The Assassin's Bride Ch. 08

Carina warily cleared her throat, uneasily recalling the last time they had this conversation. "Well, I am glad you know now."

"Me, too," he sighed. "I had that room prepared for you, hoping to bring you home. But part of me never believed I would. I even put some of your clothes in the cupboard. Well," he smiled, gesturing to her outfit and Carina found herself blushing.

Thinking on his last comment, Carina's lip curled slightly as she remembered Michael also stocked a cupboard of her things. There were disturbing parallels between her situation with Carlos and captivity with Michael that were beginning to bother her.

Without a love-hazed, hedonistic relationship with Eduardo, it became clear she was always a well-kept prisoner. Gavin's relaxed manner brought out the reality of her circumstances. By comparison, he was quite a feminist. He never pressured her for his desires, he encouraged her to make her own decisions.

"I want to see Michael," Carina demanded, surprising herself.

"Absolutely not."

"Why?"

Carlos pursed his lips. "Because you might seize a gun and shoot him. Because he could say things to upset you. There are too many reasons why."

At the idea of Michael setting eyes on Carina again, Carlos' face darkened and he arched an eyebrow. "Have you not spent enough time with him?"

Carina looked disgusted. "So unlike you to mock me."

"I'm sorry, Carina," Carlos said quickly. "That was a horrible thing to say. The truth is, I hate that he had you at all. I don't want another minute of your time wasted on him, until we have our revenge."

"I'm tired," Carina muttered, restlessly smoothing her hands down her pants, and Carlos smiled affectionately.

"Very well. I'll see you at dinner."

Before she reached the door her heart leapt as he called her back.

"Is there anything about Gavin that I need to know?"

"I don't know," Carina lied, careful to look Carlos in the eye. "I am not close to him, but he saved me, so I trust him."

It was a good answer. Too much faith in a stranger would rouse suspicion, but Carlos still scrutinised her.

"I sense he has an affection for you, Carina," he said bluntly. "Just a hunch."

"He's a man." Carina rolled her eyes with a derisive sound, much like her old style.

Carlos chuckled and reached for the papers. "I have missed your conceited nature. Go rest, Carina."

She didn't need to be told twice.

*********

On the way back to her room, Gavin happened to be passing down the same narrow corridor, with a man following at a respectful six metres.

Gavin smiled politely as they awkwardly shimmied past each other.

Carina continued her way until she reached her room. Wistfully stretching her arms over her head, she felt something foreign caught under her bra strap. With a gasp she extracted a balled up piece of toilet paper. Gavin was good.

From past experience she knew there were few cameras on board, but still she kept the piece clenched in her fist and went straight to the bathroom. Carefully unfolding the soft material with eager anticipation, she read the penned message and her heart sank.

'He needs distraction. Seduce him.'

Carina paled, and quickly flushed the toilet paper. Gavin wanted her to seduce Carlos. Remembering Gavin was a one-woman man, and seemed taken with her, Carina felt mildly hurt by the instruction.

Suddenly feeling dirty enough for a second shower, Carina angrily shed her clothing and stepped into the stall. The cascading, warm water again soothed her agitation as she cried bitter, exhausted tears. Soon enough, reality kicked in.

Your lives are on the line, stupid girl.

Michael would shortly be tortured and murdered, Gavin was on thin ice, and she was descending into a life of loveless captivity. Gavin's message was motivated by pure survival, a circumstance he had likely experienced often, where she was an amateur. He'd risked his life giving her that message, and she was crying about hurt feelings.

Whether Carlos chose to release or kill Gavin made little difference to her outcome. Once Michael and Gavin were out of her life, there would be no way out. There were only two choices -- help with an uphill battle, or accept indefinite captivity. Once reburied in Carlos' world, there would be no second chances.

******

"And here she is."

When Carina was ushered into the dining room, Carlos and Gavin appeared to be having a pleasant conversation. It was hardly animated; the kind of polite chatter you would have if trapped in an elevator with a complete stranger. Gavin seemed relaxed, with the cut on his cheek patched up, he looked ruggedly handsome.

Gavin was strikingly Nordic-looking, with very blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Carlos, a swarthy, black-haired Spaniard, tended to favour his own race above all others and was unmoved by Gavin's easy charisma. To Carlos, charisma was dangerous; a mask that concealed a man's true agenda. It was the very same element that slipped Michael into Eduardo's inner circle. Eduardo had been a fan of fun banter. Carlos more favoured actions above words.

Carina knew better than to sit anywhere other than beside Carlos. As always, he gently kissed her cheek in greeting. "Well-rested?"

"Yes, thank you," Carina smiled engagingly. She'd chosen a slinky, blue-back dress that dipped down her cleavage in a low V-neck, and pricey red heels that Carlos had gifted her before Eduardo's murder. With her long, dark hair arranged in a pretty side plait, she couldn't bring herself to wear the glittering necklace.

Staring into her captivating eyes, Carlos felt a familiar longing from the old days. At least now, his feelings were no longer a shameful secret. He signalled, and a man disappeared for the kitchen.

Gavin was drinking whisky, Carlos a tall glass of water with fresh mint and lime, and Carina happily accepted a cocktail prepared at the small bar in a corner of the room.

"My favourite," she sighed, and gleefully wrapped her pink lips around the straw resting in her mojito.

Observing the display, Gavin looked slightly cynical at her good mood, but Carlos' eyes were very warm.

The evening passed quite pleasantly, despite the elephant in the room. Neither Gavin or Carina dared raise the subject of Michael. Gavin was carefully nonchalant about the future of his former associate, and Carina similarly avoided expressing concerns for Michael's welfare. Though she'd love to beat Michael with a bat, she didn't want to bring forward his demise on her account.

So the topics were leisure, not business. Whatever was said, Gavin and Carina were careful not to contradict each other. Carina opted for the ignorance stance, and she knew Gavin approved. Besides, it was quite true that she knew little of her rescuer, so it was with genuine interest she closely listened to his answers to Carlos' light probing, wondering which was truth or fiction. In a room filled with observers, not once did Gavin look at her meaningfully or attempt to convey some message.

Toward the end of dinner, Carina was startled when she caught Carlos' expression as he watched Gavin. It quickly disappeared beneath a calm demeanour, but Carina knew that look. It was a very sharp look reserved for men Carlos did not trust.

After dessert, Gavin declined coffee and left them alone. Carlos' eyes carefully followed his exit, with a warning stare at the man shadowing Gavin.

"Hey," Carina tipsily pinched Carlos' bicep. "You're scowling."

"I am not sure how much I like this Gavin."

Carina shrugged dismissively. "You don't have to. Without him, I would not be here with you."

"That does not mean I should trust him."

"Well, Carlos, he's the hero who rescued me," Carina sullenly muttered, fighting to keep her tone civil. Even if she had been blissfully happy to be back in Carlos' power, which she wasn't, his attitude would irk her. "I would have thought you'd be grateful."

"Singing his high praises?"

"Ugh, you sound like Eduardo," she pouted, loudly slurping up the remainder of her third drink. She knew her task would be much easier if she was drunk.

"Another," she demanded, and Carlos frowned disapprovingly.

"Carina-"

"I haven't had a real drink since I can remember!" she wriggled angrily in her seat in a childish way that neither Eduardo or Carlos could resist.

With a heavy sigh, Carlos ordered another potent cocktail.

"Why is everyone staring at me!" Carina snapped into her empty glass as the surrounding men quickly looked elsewhere.

"Because you were gone, and now you're back," Carlos impatiently answered.

Carina loosely shrugged. She wasn't particularly close to the henchmen; they knew better than to be friendly with her. It was the scandal with Michael that attracted their curiosity. And clearly this, the aftermath, was heavily anticipated.

"Send them away," she complained, looking slightly mollified as a fresh cocktail arrived.

"I think it's time you went to bed, Carina."

"I have a drink to finish," she said petulantly, fixing her mouth around the straw and smiling dreamily as sweet alcohol flowed across her tongue.

"You can finish it in your room."

"Maybe you should go to your room!"

Carlos rubbed his temples and glared around at their captive audience. "Leave us," he snapped, perfectly aware the watching men were enjoying the spectacle. No one spoke back to Carlos.

Oblivious to the men vacating the room, Carina threw her cocktail straw to the ground. Carlos seized her wrist as she raised the glass to her lips. "Enough, Carina."

"Ow, Carlos! You said you'd never hurt me!" she whined, leaning on him. Wresting her arm free of his grip, she grinned as some of her drink lightly spilled down the front of his shirt. "Oops!"

"You know damn well that I am not hurting you. Now, come on, enough nonsense. I shouldn't have let you have that last drink."

"Fine, fine." Carina turned sideways to slide the glass in front of him, her breasts innocently pressed around his bicep. "I'll go to bed if you finish it."

Carlos hesitated, unaware Carina knew his dire history with alcoholism. His last indulgence after Eduardo's murder had disastrous consequences.

"Finish it now, and go to your room," he sourly relented.

"But I'm bored!"

"And I have things to do."

"No you don't," Carina cheekily contradicted him.

Straightening in her seat, she maintained their proximity. Her face was inches away from his, and she deliberately let her mouth fall into a natural, partially-open pout. Though Carlos seemed unmoved, she could see his pulse rapidly beating, and his face was unusually flushed.

Carina rested her chin on his shoulder and stared dolefully into his eyes. "You have Michael in the basement, and me sitting beside you. Wasn't that the goal?" she slurred.

"Carina-"

"See? I am right, again!" she cheered, throwing herself back into her seat.

The movement was deliberately excessive, and she would have hit the floor with her chair, but Carlos' arm was about her waist in a flash. Carina pushed forward as he pulled her against him. As a result, he collapsed back into his seat with Carina in his lap.

"I haven't been here since that New Year's party," Carina giggled, unfazed by her sporadic behaviour.

Carlos' expression darkened as he unwillingly remembered the party she referred to. He'd been forced to intervene rather than let her have an open spat with Eduardo in front of prospective clients. On that rare occasion he'd trapped her on his knee, soothed her with a number of promises, and once he was finally alone in his hotel room, spent a good part of the early morning furiously jerking off to the memory.

"Hey!" Carina lazily wrapped her arms about his neck.

She really was quite drunk, and Carlos was familiar with her antics. But it was usually up to Eduardo or Michael to handle her. Carina never realised, because Carlos seemed so strict and parental, how easily she could wrap him around her finger. It never occurred to her to try.

"W-what?" Carlos ground out, sitting frozen with her in his arms, as though afraid to move.

Carina twisted restlessly. "Stop ignoring me."

"You're going to bed. Now," Carlos said, more savagely than he intended. Rising to his feet, he easily lifted her. "And do not dream we won't discuss this in the morning!"

"In the morning?" Carina echoed. "Are you coming to bed with me?"

Carlos groaned. "I'll never let you drink again."

"Pffft," Carina retorted and playfully reached down, but Carlos hauled her higher before she could seize her glass.

"Carlos!" she whined, lightly slapping his broad chest as she was briskly carried from the room. "Carlos! I don't want to go to bed!"

"Well, you are!" he said through grit teeth.

When he first saw Carina after their time apart, she was meek and apprehensive. He was almost suspicious of her, but once his doubts were alleviated, he felt heartbroken that the feisty girl he loved could be reduced to a broken shell of what she once was. But within hours, after rest and enough alcohol, she fell back into her personality. He had seen her in this state a hundred times. The key difference was, she now leaned on him to fill Eduardo's role.

After all, Carlos did commit to take that part in her life -- but he considered it a protective role. And if he would be honest with himself, he'd admit that he'd missed the spoiled side of her. But right now, there was another part of him that felt sorely, unfairly tested.

The man outside Carina's room didn't dare show emotion as Carlos carried the squirming, drunk girl toward him, his face dark with heated frustration.

"Leave!" Carlos snarled, and the guard abruptly fled the opposite direction at a run.

Striding into the room, Carlos dropped Carina onto the bed, and lightly pushed her back when she clumsily tried to get up again.

"Carlos!" she whined, then her mouth dropped open with outrage as he made a beeline for her mini-fridge and began to empty it of alcohol. "Carlos, that's greedy! Get your own!" she shouted, lunging at him.

"Carina!" Carlos dropped the small bottles to seize her shoulders and walk her back, forcing her to the bed. She weakly struggled in a way that inched the skirt of her dress precariously high up her thighs. Carlos kneeled forward on the mattress and held her down.

"How the fuck did Eduardo control you?" he exclaimed with exasperation, feeling both indignant and uncomfortably aroused.

"He spanked me," Carina innocently answered, barely managing to supress a grin as she saw the havoc her words wreaked on Carlos' control.

Carlos seemed to undergo some kind of inner-spasm before he felt able to respond to the very provocative reply.

"Well, I am not going to do that!" he raged, briskly releasing her to angrily fix his hands to his hips.

"Then what are you going to do?" Carina cocked her head with wide eyes as he froze, poised on the mattress above her.

Noting Carlos' stark resemblance to Eduardo, Carina's heart ached. Carlos was stockier, more dangerous, and roughly attractive as opposed to classically handsome like his younger brother.

Carina vaguely concluded she was drunk and consumed with enough survival adrenaline to fuck him. Consciously it still felt wrong, and possibly bizarre. But she was ready to do it. A tiny, foreboding part of her wondered if she'd like it.

At her suggestive question, Carlos staggered back from the bed. As he vacated her personal space, Carina let her legs fall open and gave him a full view of her panties. They had shifted when he carried her, and Carlos stared directly at one side of her exposed, pink pussy.

It looked soft, and more delicious than he imagined in all his fantasies. He ached to taste her, to touch that smooth, silken flesh with his tongue and fingertips. Somehow, the lacey red gusset bordering one side made the sight obscenely erotic. As he continued to take in the shocking sight, Carina's long, slender legs edged invitingly wider.

Carlos swore, raked both hands over his head and left the room, roughly slamming the door behind him.

With a big exhale, Carina let her head fall back to the bed, dizzily satisfied that she gave it her best shot. Carlos was one of the most controlled, fearless men she knew. Strangely tonight, for the second time since she'd known him, he seemed afraid. The only other time was when he realised Eduardo was dead. It was a different kind of fear.

Carina knew she was playing with fire. But she was already in a furnace.

Tiredly rolling onto her front, Carina buried her face into the soft pillow, her drunken emotions running high. She was afraid, anxious and now very conscious of another development that filled her with grief and self-loathing. Even in her state, the truth rang clear through her mind as though she were sober. No amount of alcohol could stifle the undeniable fact that she was now the traitor.

Groaning angrily, she sat up and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. As a thought struck her, Carina's hands dropped from her face and she scampered to the door. Squinting through the peephole, she realised the man guarding the room had not returned. Carlos, in his flustered state, probably forgot to reassign him.

"Are you ready, Carina?" she asked herself, with a tone of challenge.

Squaring her shoulders, she kicked off her heels and quietly opened the door.

******

Gavin lay on his bed, still fully clothed and staring at the ceiling. From what he'd deciphered from his innocent strolls, not much of the yacht was under surveillance, which explained why he was constantly tailed.

There were no signs of bugs, but he couldn't risk speaking directly to Carina. He had counted six men so far, including Carlos, though there could be more. There was kitchen and maintenance staff. Carlos was definitely unsure about him, and Gavin determined over dinner that the brusque man would be impossible to win over.

With escort, he'd wandered about the yacht, except for forbidden areas he'd been politely diverted from. Without suspicion, quite easily managed to pinpoint the spare boats Michael mentioned. All in all, Gavin's work was certainly cut out for him, but it wasn't an impossible challenge. Just almost impossible. He needed to somehow extract Michael from the basement, retrieve Carina, and escape, without being murdered along the way.

Gavin's thoughtful gaze on the ceiling became frustrated.

Michael had to be released, but restrained. Carina had to be plucked from a very watchful group of armed men. Carlos had to be pacified, somehow. Thus far, the only weak point Gavin could discern in Carlos' character was his fondness for Carina.

Gavin grimaced at the big job ahead, and the fact he had to handle it alone. It was the sort of job he would have recruited Tate and Michael's help for. But Tate was dead, and Michael was the reason he was there. Carina had a lot to do with it, but inadvertently. If there was a true victim in all of this, it was Carina.

Remembering the way she looked at dinner, he sighed. The girl was sex on legs, and he quickly concealed how taken aback he was that Carina's natural beauty could be canvas to such a sultry contrast. Though the sight of her dolled-up to perfection took his breath away, it was the fresh-faced, mischievous girl that he wanted to take to bed.

Gavin's blue eyes burned with jealous anger when he remembered Carina could be fucking Carlos at that very minute. Gavin wasn't a possessive guy, but he hated giving Carina that message. Watching her charm Carlos at dinner convinced him she received it. Although he considered the note a necessity, part of Gavin hoped she'd fail. It was a dangerous line of thought, and out of character.

Biting his lip, Gavin squashed his unhelpful musing and accepted the inevitable. A seamless escape from the boat was implausible. Even if they managed this difficult feat, he couldn't trust Michael. On top of that, they would be avidly pursued.