Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Abigail

“ A aaah-beeeee, I’m home.”

I jolt upright in bed at hearing Miss Opal call out my name. Although the singsong tone doesn’t sound like her at all.

I throw back the covers and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, looking for shoes that are nowhere to be found. I shove my hands into the pockets of the robe, the thick terry cloth pressing against my bare skin.

Suddenly, I feel exposed and a bit self-conscious. I couldn’t change into other clothes, even if I wanted to. I have nothing else to wear at the moment.

“Here we are, Mrs. McClelland.” James’s voice carries from down the hall.

I scramble to the door, tucking the robe around me to make sure everything is properly covered. I add a second, tight knot to the belt for good measure.

I haven’t done more than wash off most of the heavy makeup from earlier. I need makeup remover, but I didn’t want to go through Miss Opal’s cosmetics case until she returned to her room.

I step out into the hallway and tiptoe toward the voices. I straighten my shoulders and take a fortifying breath before I turn the corner and walk into Miss Opal’s bedroom, pretending nothing’s wrong.

“Abby.” Miss Opal glances over her shoulder, giving me a lopsided smile. “There you are.”

“Miss Opal,” I reply cautiously, studying her flushed face. From the sound of her, she’s more than a little tipsy. “Are you okay?”

“I was bringing her to the suite after dinner,” James explains, with a pained expression. “When we passed the piano bar, she asked to go in because they were playing one of her favorite songs.”

“It was Neil Diamond.” Miss Opal starts humming the melody, her shoulders swaying from side to side.

Yes, she definitely would have stopped for Neil Diamond.

“Mr. McClelland said it was okay to stop,” he clarifies. “While we were there, she had another glass of wine or two.”

“Another?” I ask with concern. Oh, this can’t be good. Normally Miss Opal stops at two glasses of wine because she gets giggly at three. Even then, two glasses are sometimes a bit much for her petite frame, depending on the vintage and alcohol content.

“I’m not exactly sure what to do.” James’s expression falters, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his features.

“I’ve got her,” I assure him, stepping farther into the room. “Thank you for bringing her back.” I turn to Miss Opal. “Let’s get you into bed.”

“Yes, please,” she readily agrees, but she doesn’t make a move to leave the chair. Instead, she closes her eyes. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The ship is moving,” she mumbles.

“Yes, it is,” I confirm, hiding a grimace.

“But it’s moving more than it should,” Miss Opal insists, sounding distressed. The ship’s movement must be exaggerated for her with the alcohol in her system.

“We’re going through a bit of choppy water at the moment, Mrs. McClelland,” James explains in a soothing tone. “That’s why you’re feeling the ship’s motion so much.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” She opens her eyes and pouts.

“Um, I may need some help getting in bed,” she admits, as if she just realized she was supposed to move earlier.

“We should be in calmer waters by morning,” he says, trying to reassure her.

“Can you give me a hand with her?” As petite as Miss Opal is, I doubt I can manage it alone. In her current state, she won’t be offering much assistance.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, of course.”

He sets his arms around Miss Opal, bracing himself to lift her. He pauses when she doesn’t push off from the chair.

“Come on, Miss Opal,” I encourage with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. “You need to help us by standing. Just put your weight on your good foot.”

“Oh,” she says, her brow furrowing as she glances down at her legs and feet in confusion. “Which one is my good foot?”

Dear Lord, this is turning into a mess.

I tap along the side of her calf, indicating the leg she should use. “It’s this one.”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure.” She giggles. “I thought they were both good.” She furrows her brow. “Bad foot. Bad.” Then she dissolves into another fit of giggles.

James smiles, his expression a little helpless. “Can we try again?” he asks, once she calms down.

“Yes. Let’s.” This time, Miss Opal pushes herself up from the wheelchair. With her assisting, he’s able to hold her up and move her to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Let’s have you lean against the pillows so James can get going,” I suggest, heading to the dresser for her pajamas.

Obediently, she scoots back to lie against the headboard. “Oh, Abby, you should’ve come to dinner with us.” Her eyes open wide as I return with her nightclothes. “The champagne was absolutely delicious. The food too,” she adds as an afterthought.

James turns to me with concern. “Did you not go out to eat this evening, Miss Abby?”

“Um, no,” I admit, a flicker of embarrassment warming my cheeks. I was too busy reliving the moment from the mortifying photo shoot incident to even consider food.

“The kitchen staff can prepare something for you, if you’d like,” he offers politely.

Saliva pools along the sides of my mouth, making me feel queasy. I shake my head, setting my hand to my tummy. “The rougher water isn’t sitting well with me.” I don’t need the added humiliation of getting sick on top of everything else that’s happened today.

“The doctor left some seasickness pills in case I needed them,” Miss Opal pipes up, pointing an unsteady finger toward the dresser.

“You might consider taking some of those tonight,” I remind her as I gently pull off her slippers and set them aside.

“I didn’t use them last night,” she says in a conspiratorial whisper that’s anything but quiet. “So there should be nenough—” She cocks her head as if she’s trying to figure out what went wrong with the word. “E-nough,” she corrects with an exaggerated pronunciation, “for both of us.”

“You might want to consider taking the medication,” James agrees with a nod. “I’ll let the doctor know to bring more.”

I draw in a shaky breath, my stomach roiling. “That may not be a bad idea,” I concede.

James steps around me, striding to the dresser with purpose. He returns with the envelope containing the seasickness pills and two bottles of water.

“These will also help you relax and get some rest,” he murmurs, opening the envelope and peeking inside. “What might help is concentrating on a flat line, to mimic the horizon. Just keep it in your mind as you close your eyes.”

I hold out my hand, and he pours two small white pills. I promptly swallow them down with some water.

Meanwhile, he gives Miss Opal the remaining pills before removing the lid on her water bottle and handing it to her.

“Thank you.” Taking a couple of pills to settle my stomach and let me sleep through the rocking of the ship sounds incredible.

“Yes, thank you, James,” Miss Opal echoes, setting the bottle on the nightstand.

“Are you sure I can’t get you some dinner as well, Miss Abby?” he asks again.

“I’m fine, really,” I try to reassure him, though my voice doesn’t sound convincing even to my ears. The truth is, I’m ravenous after not eating anything substantial since breakfast. But the thought of food is still making my stomach churn in an unpleasant way.

“I stocked the suite’s refrigerator at Mr. McClelland’s request. You have fruit, cold cuts, dessert cups, and soft drinks.” He ticks off each item. “He’s keeping odd hours with managing the club. When he went last night, he didn’t return until just before seven o’clock this morning.”

“Oh,” I reply, surprised to learn that Barron had been out so late. The news he’ll be gone for several hours does more to put me at ease than any medication ever could.

“Would there be anything else?” James asks once Miss Opal is settled in bed, her eyes already drifting closed.

It occurs to me he might be able to help with my current situation. “Actually, do you know when the laundry might be delivered?”

“I can take any laundry with me and return it tomorrow morning,” he offers helpfully.

I fight to keep a blush from my face. “Well, um… Holly gave the clothes I was wearing earlier to one of the girls at the spa. She asked her to send them to the laundry and then be delivered here.”

“Likely they weren’t picked up until the spa closed for the evening,” he says, more to himself than to us. “But I’ll check into it first thing in the morning.”

“Um…” I curl my bare toes into the thick carpet. “With everything that happened earlier, I wasn’t prepared for the trip. So I don’t have a change of clothes with me,” I admit in a small voice.

“Oh, I see,” James says, while he pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket.

“Abby, I thought you went shopping with Holly,” Miss Opal cuts in.

“I didn’t have a chance to find anything for myself.” Then I turn to James. “And what I saw yesterday was way out of my price range.”

“I understand.” His eyes widen a bit. Likely, he’s also been taken aback by the exorbitant prices at the shops on board.

Miss Opal leans forward. “Can you take her shopping, James?” she suggests. “She needs proper clothes for the rest of our trip.”

“I’ll contact Mr. McClelland to see about?—”

I shake my head. Being in a different time zone is bad enough. Add to that the wine, and she’s lost track of everything. “It’s nearly midnight, so everything’s closed right now, Miss Opal.”

James hesitates, seeming to consider his words, then leans in closer. “I can bring you something of mine,” he offers in a whisper, a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. “If you’d like.”

The blush I’ve been fighting starts crawling up my neck again. “Oh, n-no, that’s okay,” I stammer, flustered at the offer to use his clothes. “I have something to sleep in, so I’ll be fine until tomorrow.”

Please, Miss Opal, don’t ask to see what I’m wearing. I’m not sure I could handle the inevitable questions and curiosity about the skimpy lingerie.

He straightens, adopting his usual neutral expression. “I’ll go by the laundry before I bring breakfast.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you.” This time, I offer a small, relieved smile in spite of being mortified.

“You’ll be able to find plenty of affordable options when we dock tomorrow,” he continues in a reassuring tone. “I’ve never thought to look for jeans, but the stores right off the pier have casual wear and all kinds of souvenirs.”

“Clothes?” I ask, hopefully.

“T-shirts, warmups, shorts, and pretty much anything else they can put an Alaska logo on, at reasonable prices.” He grins.

“That sounds amazing,” I admit, feeling the weight lift off my shoulders. I’m glad I thought to ask. At least I have some hope of finding regular clothes to wear without ending up broke.

“I’ll leave you both to rest, then.” He gives us a quick glance. “Good night, ladies.”

“Good night,” Miss Opal and I call out in unison.

Once James leaves the room, I get the towelettes with makeup remover and bring them to the bed.

“Are you able to handle using these on your own?” I ask Miss Opal, holding up the packet. “I’m not used to the nail tips, and I don’t want to accidentally scratch you.”

“I can do it.” She reaches for the package. “I’m not that addled,” she assures me with a slight slur.

“Mhm.” I swipe the towelette over my lash line to remove the stubborn liner. I’ve never seen Miss Opal more than slightly tipsy before. She’s always so poised and elegant. “Do you need help to change?”

She waves me off. “No, dear. I’m fine. I had more wine than I should have tonight.” She chuckles. “Goodness, the last time I had this much to drink, Barron was born nine months later.”

I stifle a surprised laugh at her unexpected admission. “It has been a while, then.”

“And now he leaves before they even serve dinner,” she adds, her cheer fading.

“He left you?” Anger twists in my stomach. How could he walk away, leaving his own mother to manage on her own? Doesn’t he realize how lucky he is to have his mother? And she’s such a lovely woman.

“He has responsibilities,” she says, covering for him again.

How I’d love to give him a piece of my mind. I tighten my hands into fists out of sheer frustration. I should have gone with her. Though she wouldn’t have allowed me to sit there in little more than a robe.

“I know you didn’t sleep well last night, dear,” she says, her tone reverting to her motherly cadence. “Would you like to stay here tonight? There’s plenty of room.”

Considering my state of near undress, I’d be embarrassed to have her see me and start asking questions.

“I’m fine,” I assure her then think better of it. “Unless you think you might need me,” I hedge.

She stifles a yawn. “No. I have a feeling I’ll sleep straight through until morning.”

“Okay, well, I’m right next door in case you do.”

“Good night, dear.”

“Good night, Miss Opal.”

Clicking the door shut behind me, I head down the hallway to my room. Once inside, I go straight to the bathroom, intent on a hot shower to remove what’s left of the makeup and hair product.

After an initial struggle with the belt, I shrug the robe off and hang it on the hook behind the door. Next, the transparent dress comes over my head, then I set it on the marble counter. I’ll have no choice but to wear it again tonight because I don’t think I could sleep without a stitch on.

The ridiculous panties are a whole other matter. I let them fall to the floor in disgust. The little pearls look up at me innocently. After all the trouble I got myself into because of their lack of coverage, I can’t stand the sight of them.

I pick up the pile of string and toss it into the waste basket. The plastic liner barely rustles with the impact.

As I’m walking away, I’m hit with a bout of concern. What if Holly wants them back? They won’t wash the outfit and put it up for sale again. Still, I shouldn’t assume it’s mine to do with as I please.

With an annoyed huff, I reach down and pull the underwear from the bag. I can’t just leave it out. I dig through the drawer, finding a disposable laundry bag and shove it in there. At least this way, I won’t have to see it.

I’m faced with a new dilemma. Can I go to bed without wearing any panties? The thought makes me squirm. I’ll end up tossing and turning. What if something happens in the middle of the night? I’d have to step out of my room completely exposed.

My mind flips to the other lingerie sets Holly had me try on earlier. Did she pick up the other outfits I wore? While still revealing, they at least covered me more than what I was just wearing. Then again, at this point, anything is better than going commando.

I wrap the belt around my fingers as I struggle with indecision. Should I go check the other bathroom, where I changed?

That means going to the bedroom on the other side of the suite. Barron’s side.