A single picture sat on the narrow dresser. When I tried to pick it up, I realized it was glued to the surface ,so I leaned forward to peer closely. It was impossible to tell just how old the picture was, but I hazarded a guess that the two boys were Lucas and Jeremiah Hamilton. The shoreline looked like that of their Hamptons home, to which I’d recently been a reluctant visitor. There were no smiles on their faces, but the way they stood close to one another spoke of a bond that had apparently broken at some point between then and now.
There was a knock at the door, and I bolted upright as if I’d been caught snooping. Rolling my eyes and blowing out a quick breath, I unbolted the door and opened it to see Lucas standing in the doorway.
“Didn’t I tell you to ask before opening?” he said, irritated at my lapse as he strode past me into the room.
“Yes, Master,” I said sarcastically, getting an exasperated look from him. “What’s this?” I pointed to the bundle he set onto the bed.
“Clothing,” he replied, for the moment letting the matter of security drop. “I had them picked up before we left. And no, they are not Anya’s old clothes. I sent a man to pick up something in your size last night.”
I gave him a suspicious look. “How long were you planning on keeping me with you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, gracing me with a big smile. “So, how do you like your new room?”
He was talking to me like we were best friends, which made me even more suspicious. Then again, I thought, that’s probably how he talks to everyone. “Not bad,” I said in a guarded voice.
“Good. Because I’m going to be staying here with you.”
“Oh no you’re not.” The words poured out of my mouth, a kneejerk response to his assumption. The idea of sleeping in the same room as the man let alone the same bed… “Nope, no way.”
“Yes way.” He poked the tip of my nose before I could pull away. “And you’ll thank me for it. Besides, this is my room. You wouldn’t expect me to bunk in a cot with my men, do you?”
“Yes,” I blurted out, and Lucas rolled his eyes.
“I need to go make sure we make it away from the mainland alright. Hopefully I greased the right palms this time.” He gestured around the cabin. “Make yourself at home.”
“This time?” I echoed, but Lucas was already heading out the door. Letting out a frustrated groan, I locked it behind him, determined to keep it closed the next time he knocked. Then I went and grabbed a book, resigning myself to boredom.
An indeterminate amount of time later, there came a knock at the door. I was a quarter of the way through “Art of War”, having given up on Tolkien by the second chapter. I flipped the page, ignoring whoever was at the door. We hadn’t made any stops since leaving, and I still wasn’t in any mood to entertain visitors.
Another rap at the door, this one louder, had me rolling my eyes and putting the book down on the bed. “Who is it?” I called in a bored voice.
“Much better this time.”
I crossed my arms. “You know, sarcasm won’t get you through this door.”
“What about food?”
My stomach rumbled at the mention, and I quickly unbolted the locks. Lucas stood in the entrance, a tray in his hand. “Mind if I join you for dinner?” he asked.
The polite question startled me, and I shrugged. “Sure.” I moved aside as he brushed past. Smells reached my nose, making my mouth water, and I trailed after him as he set the tray on the dresser. “I take it I won’t be eating in whatever passes as the cafeteria here?” I peered over his shoulder to see what he brought.
“The correct term is ‘galley’, and probably not. I trust my men not to touch you, but Niall brought along a number of his own guards. I’m still not altogether certain of their intentions.”
The thought of being the only woman aboard a ship full of men hit me, and I shivered. “Did Anya ever come aboard ship?”
Lucas nodded. “Not often, but on at least two occasions. She liked the attention.” He threw me a droll gaze. “I don’t think you’d appreciate it as much.”
We ate in silence, which I was happy for. The food was decent and fairly healthy, even if the green beans were flavored with bacon fat. “Who’s your cook?”
“Alexei. Claims he went to a culinary school, but I don’t see it.”
“Oh.” The ensuing silence was awkward, but tolerable enough. Lucas seemed lost in thought, which gave me a rare moment to just watch him. Somber like this, he looked so much like his brother. I found it hard to believe Lucas was older than Jeremiah. The man before me was slimmer and shorter than his ex-Army brother, but had the same features and dark coloring. The pale scar along his face stood out against the olive skin, differentiating him from his brother more than anything else.
It amazed me how different the two men were. Jeremiah had the broody, tortured thing going for him, while Lucas… I wasn’t sure. He held a different type of mask in place, one that I found hard to pierce. There wasn’t much brooding here, at least not on the surface; his lips more often than not were locked in a Joker-like smile, as if sarcasm and pleasantries could keep people away.
As much as I enjoyed puzzles, the Hamilton men were a bit out of my league.
“So am I stuck in here until we reach wherever we’re going?” The question was matter of fact; I’d resigned myself to another bout of imprisonment by a Hamilton brother. They certainly had that in common too.
To my surprise, Lucas shook his head. “You’re safest in here, certainly, but you can explore the ship if you’d like. Provided,” he added, holding up a hand to keep me from speaking, “one of my men is with you at all times.”
I frowned at him, which he appeared to ignore. “From one prison to another,” I muttered, poking at the remains of my green beans. I’d been a “guest” at the Hamilton family’s house in the Hamptons for nearly two weeks, forced to stay inside the palatial mansion. Despite my captivity, I hadn’t fared well; I was shot at, kidnapped, and almost killed before my lover, an ex-Ranger sniper, had taken out my assailant right before my eyes.
The memory killed my appetite, and I pushed the plate of food across the bed. “What now?”
Lucas shrugged. “I don’t usually come along for the ride on this kind of trip. I’m more a ‘private charter across the sea’ kind of guy who’d rather enjoy some tropical scenery and a Mai Tai.” He winked at me. “I like the little umbrellas.”