wrapped my arms around me. “I went to an all-girls boarding school. Private, of course. Hugo was at the boys’ side of the school. Ollie went there for sixth form as a day student. I’ve only known him a couple of years. We have mutual friends.”
“Hugo,” Arthur said. “Hugo Harrington. Your boyfriend.”
I hated hearing the word “boyfriend” from Arthur’s lips in relation to Hugo.
“Yes,” I said. Arthur drank the rest of his gin in one go. He stubbed his cigarette out on an ashtray and immediately lit up another one.
“Let’s get you home, princess,” he said, and my stomach fell to the floor. I had bought us some more time with my friends. I wanted to stay with Arthur a while longer. But mostly, I didn’t want to go home. I’d been attacked. I wasn’t safe on my own. I knew I’d be safe with him.
“What if they find me again tonight?” I said, my frayed nerves seeping into my words.
“I’ve already got men watching your yacht. They’ve been on board and done a search. No one is there, and no one is getting to you. I can guarantee you that.”
I blinked in surprise. “Thank you,” I said, taken aback by his generosity.
Arthur walked back to the sofa and picked up my clutch, then passed me and opened the doors that led to the back deck.
Disappointment accompanying my every step, I followed Arthur off the boat and to mine. I turned to face him. “Thank you, again,” I said. He handed me back my clutch.
A cloud of tobacco washed over my face as Arthur exhaled. “Night, princess.” He walked back to his yacht without another glance. I jumped on seeing a couple of men in black suits move close by. My heart kicked into a heady, nervous beat, until they nodded at me in greeting and I realised they were Arthur’s men who he had ordered to protect me.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I climbed onto my boat and made my way to my bedroom. As I curled up on my bed, I smelled Arthur’s aftershave on my borrowed clothes and closed my eyes, letting it wrap around me. My stomach rolled when I thought back over the events of the night, at the attackers, but more at Arthur killing them so efficiently, so coldly, so brutally.
I didn’t know what kind of person it made me, but as I replayed the scene over and over in my head, all I could think was that he’d saved me. He’d killed to save me, not a single ounce of remorse in his dark soul.
I stared down at my hands, the hands that had run over his pecs, his abs and his hips. Despite knowing it was fucked up and wrong, I wanted to feel him like that again. Only this time I didn’t want him to hold back. I didn’t want him to keep his distance. I wanted him smothering me and making me forget my name. Maybe then I could shake myself of this obsession with him once and for all.
Maybe.
The music sailed through the yacht’s speakers, and the few glasses of sangria I’d had made me feel loose and free. My eyes travelled to the people dancing on the sun deck, the sun setting on the horizon casting a warm, orange glow. Arabella and Freya came over to me as I leaned against the rail of the yacht.
“Are you feeling okay?” Arabella asked.
I touched my face, letting my fingers graze down my neck. The swelling had reduced a little, but the bruising left an ugly shadow of purple on my cheek and red finger marks around my throat. My foundation and concealer covered them well enough that people couldn’t tell. I’d told Arabella and Freya that I had taken a bad fall in my room. I wasn’t sure if they believed me, but neither of them had questioned me further. In our circles, lots of questions remained unasked. No one wanted to taint our seemingly perfect lives with a trivial thing like the truth.
I glanced across to the Adley yacht beside us. I hadn’t seen Arthur last night or today at all. Hugo returned tomorrow, and we were scheduled to set sail for Ibiza. I looked at the people dancing on the sun deck. Mainly acquaintances of Arabella and Freya, some we knew from our social circles in Chelsea. Although some of our acquaintances were absent.
Ollie Lawson had come to see me yesterday as promised. I had made sure it