Friction. Part 17

He took a step back, looking up into her face. Her skin was flushed with pa.s.sion, but her eyes were filled with sad resolve.

"You said you wanted me."

"I do want you."

"So why the chill?"

"I don't like being used." She held up a hand to his mouth, covering his lips gently as he started to object. "I know it's not how you mean it, but it's the end result. Being together, working on the case, having to set up a sting-it gives us a neat excuse to go further, but we shouldn't act on it."

"Why the h.e.l.l not? I want you, you want me-we can be relatively sure no one's watching in here, so what's the problem?"

She smiled a little, and it actually made her look even more sad, which made it hard for him to breathe. He knew almost before she spoke and sucked in a deep breath, getting control of himself. She was right. He'd totally lost his focus about why they were there. He should be thinking only of finding Mel, and hopefully the other two missing women. They had a job to do, and he had let it go completely in his pursuit of Sarah. He shook his head in disgust with himself, and then looked up to meet Sarah's eyes as she spoke.

"Where are we heading, Logan? What's next?" She bent to pick up the towel. "What is this? What am I to you? I thought we laid things out pretty clearly back at the inn-you don't respect my job, don't like what I do."

"I don't like you putting yourself in bad situations. And this is one-I'd lost track of that for a few minutes, and I have to apologize." His voice had turned stiff, and he just wanted to have this over with; it was all getting too complicated.

"But danger is part of my job. Not every day, but when I need to deal with it, I do. I don't-and can't and won't-sit behind a computer all day and let other people go take the risks. That's not how it's done. That's not who I am."

"I just can't stand the thought of you getting hurt."

"Just because your mother and sister got hurt, just because Mel got hurt, doesn't mean I will."

"You could."

"So could you-it doesn't mean I would ask you to be less than you are. If you really cared for me-wanted more than..." she sputtered, gesturing to her naked body beneath the towel, "more than this, this, then you wouldn't ask me to give up who I am, either." then you wouldn't ask me to give up who I am, either."

He sagged back against the opposite wall, desire erased, misery setting in. She was right. But it didn't necessarily matter.

"I don't know what I can do. I just don't know, Sarah." His emotions were raw in his eyes. "What I do know is I don't want to lose you. How can you blame me for that?"

She looked away, her beautiful lips set in a flat, painful line as she maintained her control. "I think we've been in here long enough for them to buy it. You can go back to your room now."

The distance she put between them with the statement was tangible, and he nodded. He wasn't about to beg her for what he wanted.

His voice was neutral. "We'll have to get wet. They need to think we were showering."

"You first. I'll follow after you leave. They can think we said our goodbyes in here."

His heart ached. Maybe they had.

AS SHE LEFT her cabin the next morning, feeling all the worse for wear and hoping it simply looked like she'd had a late night partying, she wasn't completely surprised to be detained by a yeoman. her cabin the next morning, feeling all the worse for wear and hoping it simply looked like she'd had a late night partying, she wasn't completely surprised to be detained by a yeoman.

"Ms. Jessup. If you could come this way, the owner of the s.h.i.+p requests the honor of your company at breakfast."

"The owner? What would he want with me?"

The yeoman smiled. He seemed younger and more innocent than he must surely be, Sarah thought. Did he know what was going on, or was he just another dupe?

"On each trip, certain guests are invited to join Mr. Valente for breakfast on the last day of the cruise. Such an invitation has been extended to you."

"Oh, well, I suppose that's quite an honor. I can't imagine why he would choose me. Perhaps I should change into something more suitable...." She presented a fl.u.s.tered, nervous facade, and the yeoman smiled, taking her by the arm. No, he wasn't about to let her walk away. Definitely part of the pack.

"You're perfect just as you are. Mr. Valente will not want to be kept waiting. Come this way, please."

She tried to squelch the excitement that her plan appeared to have worked. Logan was nowhere in sight, but she did have her choker on, so she wasn't alone. She stepped up into a grandly decorated room that occupied most of the s.p.a.ce under the bridge and was left alone as the yeoman closed the door behind her.

A table was set with a breakfast that smelled like heaven. Regardless of the fact that it was bait meant to draw lambs to slaughter, she was starving. There were also only two chairs-so much for the yeoman's story about the owner inviting several guests to breakfast. She was the only special one, apparently.

Unable to resist the grumbling of her stomach, she grabbed a croissant from the table and walked casually around the room, looking for anything that might lend a clue to the seedy operation they had going on here. Not that she expected anything to be just lying out in the open, but it was possible.

She turned when she heard a door open on the other side of the room, and saw a man enter. He was in his fifties, she guessed, and not bad-looking for his age. Kept himself in shape. He was dressed in a casual business suit, his salt-and-pepper hair long enough to be youthful but neatly groomed in a way appropriate for his age. His blue eyes mirrored hers, and he smiled with perfectly straight teeth.

"Ms. Jessup. So nice to see you could make it. Please, have a seat. I see you already started without me."

"Sorry. I was hungry." She offered a smile, and he returned it, waving her apologies away with a careless gesture.

"You should feel free to help yourself. You're my guest."

Or your prisoner? she wondered. How long would he bother to keep up the little play they were engaged in? She decided to string it out, get him to talk, and sat, starting on a cheese omelet. It was going to take some energy to kick this guy's b.u.t.t. They made small talk for a while, and she began to get restless. she wondered. How long would he bother to keep up the little play they were engaged in? She decided to string it out, get him to talk, and sat, starting on a cheese omelet. It was going to take some energy to kick this guy's b.u.t.t. They made small talk for a while, and she began to get restless.

"Thank you for the breakfast and conversation, but I need to go. I'd like to get some time in at the tables before we get back to sh.o.r.e."

"Please, please. Relax. You have plenty of time, several hours before the tables close. I can't possibly allow you to leave just yet."

"But I want to go."

And there it was. She noted the flicker in the eye, the mean little twitch in the cheek that belied the suave charm he'd been pouring on. She'd pressed the right b.u.t.ton-a guy like him wouldn't like a demanding or stubborn woman. She needed to tread carefully, to play him out and get him to say as much as possible, the little recorder on her neck carrying everything back to Ian and E.J.

"I don't think so. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"I want to make you an offer."

She pretended to be curious, and sat back in her chair, though she didn't touch her food.

"What kind of offer? I already have a job...."

He smiled, and it was smarmy and condescending-they'd no doubt looked into her background. She kept her own name; using a fake name was asking for trouble on such a short job, when she didn't have time to get used to a new ident.i.ty. But she'd trumped up a background as a full-time waitress in a sw.a.n.k seafood restaurant where she did fairly well. They'd also made sure she appeared to have a bit of a gambling problem.

"Yes, we know about your work. And we know about your debt-including the debt you acc.u.mulated last night. I know you don't have enough in your credit account or your bank to cover the losses, Ms. Jessup."

"How can you know these things about me? You have no right-" She was enjoying her role as the outraged woman, the nervous gambler in too deep, and played it to a tee.

"I have every right. I know everything about everyone who sets foot on this s.h.i.+p. I know everything about you."

He leveled an intimidating look in her direction, and it was all she could do not to spit in his face and tell him how stupid he really was. But, as she'd learned over the last eighteen months or so, that wasn't the best way to get the bad guys. She controlled her temper and swallowed her disgust.

Sarah let her voice quaver a little as she responded. "I promise I can pay my debts. I always do. It'll just take me a little time, maybe some payments...?" She looked at him hopefully, and watched the sick satisfaction in his smile when he thought he had her where he wanted her.

"We don't really do payments. But there are a few other arrangements we can make. If you are willing."

Yeah, sure, and probably even if I'm not.

She licked her lips and swallowed, eager to get specifics, but coming across as hesitant.

"What kind of arrangement?"

Valente stood and walked around the table, standing behind her, though he didn't touch her. She looked back over her shoulder questioningly, but didn't turn around.

"There are customers we have, wealthy clients, who come to play and are unattached. They would enjoy some female company while they are here."

"You mean, like a date?"

"Exactly. They are usually foreign businessmen, traveling abroad, and they have certain...preferences, shall we say, for American women. Especially attractive ones like you."

He actually felt he'd paid her a compliment, she thought with disgust. Valente walked to the side of the table, leaning his hip on it slightly, and reached down to push a little hair back from her forehead. She let him, while fantasizing about breaking his fingers.

"What would I have to do? Would I have to come back?"

"You could take care of your obligation immediately. Tonight."

"But I'm due back-"

"Change your plans." He bit out the phrase, and she shrunk back.

"I don't know about this. I don't like it. I just have to keep them company while they're playing?"

"Yes. Though if they want more, you shouldn't argue."

"You mean you want me to have s.e.x with them? For money?" She raised her pitch into an indignant squeak and pushed up from her chair.

"Sit back down, Ms. Jessup."

"I am not going to have s.e.x with some nasty old foreign guy. Forget it. I'm outta here."

"You are staying right where you are."

"I told you, forget it."

She headed toward to door, waiting to see what else he would do.

"You may want to see this before you go. It was taken last night, and would be sent to your employer, your family-and anyone else we think might be interested."

Sarah let her hand drop from the door, and turned slowly as she heard Logan's voice up close-the recording was much better than she imagined it would be, and she didn't have to feign repulsion as she watched Valente smirking as Logan pushed her dress down.

Luckily, Logan's moves had blocked most of the view of her exposed skin, but still. It was obvious what was happening between them-the s.e.x, the heat between them, jumped off the screen. You couldn't see his face, but her ident.i.ty was clear. Her stomach turned for real, her past rus.h.i.+ng back to her in a oily stretch of disgust. She pushed it down. She had to focus.

"Yes. We have the entire episode, and our video people can easily enhance it, livening it up where the action got a little...slow."

"You wouldn't! This is against the law, I'm going to tell-"

He grabbed her by her shoulders, hard. She winced, rea.s.suring herself that Valente wouldn't want to damage the goods. If he did, she could take care of herself until help arrived.

"You will not breathe a word of this to anyone, you stupid, penniless tramp. Do you understand? You will do what you're told, when you're told to do it. And if you do a good enough job, maybe your debt will be paid in full." He glared at her ominously. "If not, you will be at my disposal until I feel your debt has been worked off."

She gave in and spit at him, feeling real tears born of anger stinging behind her eyes. She struggled to get out of his grasp.

"I'll throw myself overboard to the sharks before I'll stay here with you!"

"That can be arranged as well. But not yet."

He let her go roughly and hit a b.u.t.ton on a panel near the table, never taking his eyes off of her. Sarah gulped huge breaths he would no doubt read as fear, but it was really her need to control herself and her anger so as not to rip him limb from limb.

He'd threatened to kill her, if necessary. Is that what had happened to Logan's partner? She was a cop, too-a tough woman who would never have given in easily to something like this. She listened to him call someone, and a moment later the yeoman stepped through the door.

"Take her to the lower stateroom. Make sure she doesn't get out."

"Yes, sir."

"I won't go! Get your hands off of me!" She kicked out at the yeoman and was rewarded with a fist to the gut, knocking the wind out of her. Valente nodded approvingly.

"Yes, don't bruise her. Visibly."

Sarah muttered more curses and let the yeoman drag her from the room, catching her breath as she went and hiding a slight smile. Now she really had the b.a.s.t.a.r.d exactly where she wanted him.

"CAN YOU GUYS HEAR ME? Send me a feedback signal so I know you're out there."

Sarah sighed with deep relief when the answering sound of a whining pitch made her wince. She wasn't cut off. Locked in a room and lying on the small bed, she hid her head behind a pillow, appearing to sleep while whispering into the mike still secured around her neck.

The room was actually very comfortable-she'd thought they might throw her down in the engine room, or whatever the equivalent of a bas.e.m.e.nt was on a boat. Now that she knew Ian and E.J. could hear her, she started formulating a plan.

"Okay, I'm going to need Logan on this one-you guys need to find a way to contact him here and let him know where I am, what's going on. I'm going to see what they do with me later-I'm betting they won't take me up where all the other clients are and risk me making a fuss, so I imagine whatever plans they have for me, they'll be doing something private."

She grinned for a moment, imagining Ian's frustration at only being able to listen and not talk-he must be going crazy, and the thought tickled her a little. This is what he got for sending her on vacation. But she was in the driver's seat now, and she was going to make it count.

"I know we have enough to bust them on now, but don't you dare send the cavalry in just yet, Ian. I mean it. I want to nail this guy in a big way-we need to find the missing women Logan mentioned. They could be on the boat, or we could at least find out where they are. We need to get access to their computers...."

Her mind started clicking away as she mumbled into the mike, telling them what she needed and what she was planning to do. Her heart beat a little harder in antic.i.p.ation of snagging Valente and uncovering the full extent of his activities. As long as Logan came through, they'd be all set.