Dollars (Dollar #2)(13)

Even if he wanted to kiss me again, he couldn’t. I had stitches in my tongue. I was hurt.

That never stopped other men.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. Elder was a lot of things, but the more time I spent in his presence, the more I suspected he wasn’t like other men. And if he wasn’t like the others, how could I predict what he wanted? How could I ensure my survival if I couldn’t mentally and physically prepare for whatever would come next?

The elevator doors opened, spewing us out onto a new deck. This one had rose-gold carpet with bronze accents glinting from subtle wallpaper and pretty sconces on the wall. It reeked of classical money and award-winning interior design.

Elder let me go, marching ahead, expecting me to follow.

My bare feet sank into welcoming carpet, whispering of happiness and a future so much better than my past. My pink nightgown that’d replaced the yellow from yesterday fluttered around my legs.

It was a conscious effort not to tear the material away. I didn’t find comfort in the softness, merely torture.

Elder finally stopped outside a rose-gold door and opened it. There was no key or barrier, just an ornate handle in the shape of a clamshell.

Striding into the space, my jaw fell open as I followed him.

A maid jumped as she turned around with a plump pillow in her arms. “Oh, excuse me, sir. I was just making final preparations for your guest.”

Elder crossed his arms. “The room looks fine. You may go.” His head remained high; his gaze locked on the pretty servant with blonde hair and not the exquisite room with its double doors leading onto a small balcony and cascading sunlight.

She bowed slightly, placing the pillow just so on top of a mountain of identical ones on the bed. The mattress was the biggest I’d ever seen.

“Right away, sir.” With a quick glance my way, she dashed from the room and closed the door.

Elder didn’t speak. Prowling forward, he opened the French doors and stepped into fresh sea air.

I craved to join him on the veranda and inhale freedom. To witness the rushing waves on the horizon and watch the gushing tide beneath my feet. But I didn’t know if he wanted me to follow—if it was an invitation or purely for him.

So, I lingered.

Pressing my stitched tongue against the roof of my mouth, cringing against the pain, I peered around the boudoir.

To my left was a sunken lounge where a couch big enough for eight people rested low enough to jump onto from floor level. An inbuilt coffee table had grooves for cups and racks for magazines to keep things in place regardless of how determined the ocean was at disrupting order. A large abstract painting hung on the wall, and the bed slumbered beneath a canopy of pale cream silk matching the elegant dark chocolate bedspread and ivory lace throw cushions.

Once again, the scent of money oozed from every fixture and fitting. A dining table sat beneath a window beside the French doors, and a bathroom was visible through a linking door to a full-sized Jacuzzi tub and a two-person shower in the same cream and chocolate décor.

The richness of colour was not lost on me after an eternity of white, white, white.

“Are you going to stand in the middle of the room forever or will you come here?” Elder’s voice whipped to my ears with the aid of muggy sea air.

My feet moved of their own accord. My entire body tingled as I stepped outside. I wasn’t a mute with a butchered tongue. I wasn’t sold into a new nightmare. I was just a girl standing beside a boy in the middle of the ocean.

My shoulder brushed against his bicep as we stood watching the view. Sunshine tinkled like gold on turquoise glass. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

A million questions unfolded like origami in my mind.

What is this ship?

Where are we going?

Why did you do this wondrous thing and bring me with you?

But the answers weren’t needed as much as the kiss of such warm beauty. I’d been denied the outdoors for so long that the slaps of water and the breeze as its fingers tangled in my hair was almost euphoric.

“That’s the first time you’ve looked weightless and not drowning beneath horror since we met.”

I jolted as Elder turned to face me.

“I like that look.”

I had no snarky comeback. No inner comment. His gaze and the sublime view behind him mesmerized me. Gripping the balcony rail with my unbroken hand, I risked looking directly down at the churning sea froth as the sleek silver lines of his ship cut like a sword through the water.

“I wouldn’t get any ideas of jumping overboard if I were you. I’d be pretty pissed if you killed yourself after everything I’ve done to keep you alive.”

My breathing stopped.

He knew about my desire to die? Did he plan to use that weakness against me or did he understand why I’d entertained such thoughts?

Turning on his heel, he murmured, “Come. The balcony is yours; you can stand on it whenever you want. I’ll show you around, then I have work to return to.”

I trailed behind him.

While we’d admired the ocean, a servant had entered and vanished, leaving in his or her wake a tray full of soft noodles, fluffy rice, and steaming potato soup. A carbohydrate avoider’s nightmare, but to my suddenly greedy stomach, it was an oasis of delicacies.

“You’re only allowed soft food for now, but if you have a craving for something else, let the staff know, and Michaels will approve or deny.”