Burn

The balcony was private, or at least gave the illusion of privacy as there were floor-to-ceiling walls between this balcony and the ones on either side. In other circumstances, she might find the view and the fresh air a real pleasure, but these circumstances didn’t leave room for even the simplest pleasure.

Her first cruise. And her last one, damn it. There was no way she’d ever willingly set foot aboard a ship again. She hated being in a position where she literally had nowhere to go.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard the door onto the balcony open, and Cael step out. He sat in the other heavy lounge, stretching out his long legs. Taking a sip of his own coffee, he gazed out at the ocean much as she did. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was relaxed. No, he was relaxed, but he was still alert. She wondered if he ever truly let his guard down, if some part of him wasn’t always on duty. Even now, on this protected balcony with nothing but the ocean in view, he was as watchful as if he thought an attack could materialize at any time.

After a moment, she realized that he did expect an attack –  from her. The thought amused her so much that her mood immediately lightened. What did he think she could do? The only way she could toss him overboard would be if he climbed on top of the railing first. She’d taken those judo classes, true, but she didn’t think Cael would just stand there while she tried to remember how to flip him, then practiced her positioning and balance. Expert, she wasn’t.

She got a great deal of pleasure imagining him tipping over the rail, though. He’d make a nice, big splash.

"Finish your coffee and come inside," he said, as if he’d read her thoughts. She wasn’t trying to guard her expression, so maybe she’d looked unexpectedly gleeful.

Obviously he didn’t trust her to even sit out here on the balcony alone, though what she could do or where she could go was a mystery.

The power between her and Cael was so out of balance – he, after all, had all the power – that it was frankly amazing she could get under his skin at all. He could crush her like a bug, and she’d have to let him. No matter what he wanted to do to her she had no way of stopping him. She couldn’t hurt him, couldn’t give him up to the shipboard authorities, couldn’t foil his mysterious plans.

She could needle him, though, and take great delight in doing so – but not out here. She didn’t know if Larkin was out on his balcony, sitting quietly, enjoying his morning coffee or his morning Ghostwater, listening to every word they said. She didn’t know how well sound carried out here on the balconies. Other than that little while the first day, right after departure, she hadn’t been out here.

She took a tiny sip of coffee. She wasn’t about to gulp it down. In fact, this cup of coffee might last until lunchtime. Sweetly she asked, "What are our plans for today? Do you have anything in particular you’re interested in?"

He put his cup down and stared at her as if she’d morphed into an alien. Jenner took great pleasure in indicating the direction of Larkin’s balcony. In the spirit of cooperation she continued, "This weather is so great, though, it’s almost tempting to stay right here all day."

Like velvet rubbing her skin, Cael said in that smooth, deep voice, "There’s something I’m always interested in, sweetheart, and the balcony is fine with me."

SYDNEY TRIED HER BEST to relax, because being in a constant state of anxiety was eating at her to the point she could barely sleep or eat. Having a heart attack at this point wouldn’t serve any purpose. In fact, it would defeat the purpose, which was to survive.

She stood at the window in her bedroom, staring out at the scenery. San Diego was a beautiful city, and she hoped she never saw it again. She was never visiting Caro again; assuming she survived, Caro could come to south Florida to visit her.

So far her captors hadn’t shown any signs of violence – well, other than shoving a pistol in her side in the limo. The weapons remained, always in evidence unless a maid or room service person was in the suite. Her kidnappers never allowed her to be alone in the same room with any of the hotel employees. When the maid came, Syd was hustled to the other side of the suite, and she was always in her bedroom with one of the kidnappers when food was delivered to the parlor.

Other than the fact that she’d been kidnapped and frightened out of her wits, the kidnappers seemed concerned that they make this as comfortable for her as possible, which was so at odds with what she’d expected that she had no idea what to think. They’d made it plain, though: So long as she didn’t give them any trouble, Jenner wouldn’t be hurt. They didn’t want money. She had no idea what the hell they did want.

Yesterday she’d talked to her father and explained that she’d missed the trip because of a particularly nasty stomach bug. After satisfying himself that she wasn’t seriously ill, he’d suggested that she fly to Hawaii and join Jenner there as the Silver Mist sailed between the islands later in the week. Syd had told him that was a good idea, if she was over the bug she’d think about it. She’d also had to assure him again that her illness wasn’t serious. It was a fine line, to convince her father that she was too sick to go on a cruise, but not so sick that she needed him to fly to San Diego, nor did she need to be in a hospital, and she didn’t need for him to send someone to take care of her. All the while she talked to him, Kim watched and listened intently to make certain Syd didn’t try to send any coded messages or something.

As if she knew how to send any coded messages.

Her lack of ability to do anything about this situation was frustrating. She knew how to put on a formal affair, how to coordinate outfits, how to juggle a thousand and one social obligations. Other than driving a car, however, she didn’t have a single skill that could be considered useful – and even if she did, she probably wouldn’t have the nerve to do anything, so the question was moot.