Chapter 134
Chapter 134:
“It was the only one available on short notice,” Gaston said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes suggested he might have purchased the vessel that very morning. He placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward. His touch burned through the thin fabric of her blouse.
“Welcome aboard, Mrs. Collins,” the Captain said, snapping a salute. He was a stern-looking man with a gray beard and the bearing of someone who had weathered worse things than billionaires.
Jocelyn flushed at the title. It sounded too real. Too permanent. “Thank you,” she managed.
They walked up the gangway. The teak deck was polished to a mirror shine. Jocelyn’s first tentative step nearly sent her sliding, and she instinctively gripped Gaston’s arm for balance. He stiffened immediately, his muscle contracting beneath her fingers — but he didn’t pull away.
“Set course for Montauk. The secluded cove,” Gaston told the Captain.
“Aye, sir p>
The engines engaged. A deep, powerful vibration rolled up through the soles of Jocelyn’s shoes, like the heartbeat of something vast waking beneath her feet.
A stewardess with a precise bun and a professional smile stepped forward. “Right this way, Ma’am. I’ll show you to the Master Suite p>
Jocelyn followed her down a staircase wider than the hallway of her old apartment. The interior smelled of expensive leather and sea salt.
The Master Suite was unreasonable. A king-sized bed dominated the room, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows. There was a walk-in closet, a soaking tub, and a private balcony that looked out over open water.
Jocelyn turned to Gaston, who was leaning against the doorframe watching her. “Where is your room p>
𝗬𝗈𝗎𝘳 d𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗒 d𝗼𝘴𝘦 o𝖿 𝗻𝘰v𝗲𝗅𝘀 𝗈𝗻
He gestured vaguely toward the corridor. “This is the only suite with good lighting for the makeup shots. I’ll take the p>
The stewardess blinked. “Sir? There are six VIP guest cabins on the lower deck. The Gold Room has been prepared for p>
Gaston shot her a look that could have frozen magma. “Right. I’ll take the cabin next door p>
“Yes, sir. Of course.” The stewardess disappeared with impressive speed.
Jocelyn set her bag on the bed. Sitting on the duvet was a white gift box tied with a black satin ribbon.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Wardrobe,” Gaston said. “For the casual shots. Open it p>
Jocelyn pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid. Nestled in layers of tissue paper was a white bikini. Small. Very small. Triangles of fabric connected by thin strings.
She held the top up by one strap. It dangled in the air between them, looking wholly inadequate for its stated purpose.
“This?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “This isn’t a swimsuit, Gaston. It’s dental floss p>
“It photographs well,” he replied, his expression perfectly composed. “Put it on later. We have a few hours before open water p>
He turned and left, closing the door with a soft click.
Jocelyn sat on the edge of the bed and turned the fabric over in her fingers. It was soft, and expensive, and she resented both facts.
She looked out the window. The Manhattan skyline was already beginning to shrink, the skyscrapers receding into toy blocks on the horizon. A sharp, sudden pang of isolation moved through her. They were leaving the world behind. The rules that kept her safe didn’t apply out here.