Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

Abigail

E very fiber inside me is trembling, caught somewhere between righteous indignation and the lingering sparks of desire as I rush away.

How could I have let myself fall into this trap? After everything we’ve shared, he can only think of me as a thief.

The sheer audacity of this man infuriates me. How dare he draw me in so intimately one minute, only to fling an accusation like that the next?

I replay the scene in my mind. The way his hands were roaming my body, his lips leaving a scorching trail on my skin. How he looked at me with naked hunger in his eyes is unforgettable. Then that cold, insolent stare when he accused me of taking something from his mother.

All this time, I thought his attitude toward me stemmed from when he rescued me. When I took food because I was hungry. But no. Even after sleeping with me, and making me feel cherished and wanted, he still sees me as someone who would take advantage of his mother.

What kind of person does he think I am? My stomach churns, and bile rises in my throat. I can’t even defend myself because Miss Opal is so private about her medical issues and how that has affected her life. I’m not about to betray her trust and out her condition to her son if she isn’t ready to tell him.

I hold the medallion against the electronic sensor, the muted buzz releasing the first lock. A door opens somewhere behind us as I punch in the numbers to open the second lock, desperate to put some space between us.

“Barron,” a man’s voice calls out as I enter the suite.

“Not now,” he snarls with impatience.

I turn and find that pissed-off expression back in place—the one that has become all too familiar the past couple of days. God, if I never saw it again, I wouldn’t miss it. At this point, I’ve come to despise that look more than anything else in the world.

Without stopping to think twice about it, I shut the door, putting a solid barrier between us. He’ll have to work on the lock if he wants to come in after me. A petty move, but I’ll gain a few extra seconds.

“Damn it, Abigail,” he snarls from the other side.

Ignoring his curse, I scramble to my room. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to see him. And I definitely don’t want to deal with the weight of that icy stare I could feel aimed between my shoulder blades as I walked away.

Hopefully, James could find my clothes. If so, should I bother changing? Wearing this outfit all day would cut down on the clothes I’d have to buy.

I enter my room, heart pounding, and swiftly lock my door. The front door slams shut a second later. I freeze, holding my breath, straining to catch any sound that might signal he’s coming after me.

A full minute crawls by with my heart slamming against my rib cage. There are no enraged footsteps coming down the hall, no cursing at being locked out of his own suite. Just eerie silence screaming in my ears, adding to my anxiety.

I scan the room, but my clothes aren’t on the bed or dresser. Which means James didn’t find them. Or maybe he’s gone ashore. I glance out the sliding glass doors. With James leaving the curtain open, I can see the buildings right next to the ship.

With the shops this close, there should still be time for me to head down and find something else to wear.

I haul my backpack onto the bed. My nerves are on edge as I fumble with the zipper. I pull out my credit card and zip it up. The rasp of the metal teeth coming together practically fills the room as I debate my next move.

Inching to the door, I strain to hear any noise that will give Barron away. I ease it open a crack, checking the hallway before venturing out. Everything remains quiet as I tiptoe into the living area, finding it empty.

I’m halfway across the room when I have a realization. Miss Opal would call me out on my childish behavior. She’d remind me this is no way for a lady to act, no matter how upset she may be.

I take a calming breath. I’m intent on following through with my plan to go shopping, despite the man who turned my world upside down.

The last few feet to the entrance, it’s as though I have that overbearing jerk breathing down my neck. Closing the door behind me, I struggle to swallow the knot of anxiety stuck in my throat.

As I reach the mirror, flashbacks of what he was doing to me there hit me one after the other. His hands on my body, his whispers in my ear, his demanding kiss…

I had a front-row seat to all of it, including my own embarrassing reaction to every single thing he did to me. For the second time in as many days, I’m vividly recalling what that man’s fingers do to me…and regretting ever letting it happen.

How could he be touching me like that then accuse me of stealing from his mother in the same breath? The thought makes me feel dirty, awful. I smash my thumb against the button for the elevator, purposely avoiding glimpsing myself in the damn mirror.

The elevator ride down is the next hurdle. How did things go so wrong so fast? I was standing in his arms, reveling in his attention a few minutes ago. He made me feel so safe, cherished in a way I’ve never known. Tears burn behind my eyes for the rest of the ride down.

I make it through the lobby, my heart racing as I approach the security checkpoint. What if they don’t let me off the ship? I wasn’t supposed to be here to begin with. And I’m not sure if Holly or James are on board. Though I’m not sure I’m ready to face him after this morning.

The line is a lot shorter now, so we move along quickly. My heart is thudding against my ribs as I reach the stern-faced security officer.

“Scan your medallion,” he says, his voice clipped and professional.

Beep.

He checks the screen on his side then glances over my features.

“Enjoy your time ashore,” the officer says, “Remember, you have one hour before we sail.”

“Thank you.” I check the time on my phone, the warning ringing in my ears.

Going across the long walkway is a challenge in itself. Don’t look down. Don’t look down, I chant to myself. I stay in the middle of the covered bridge, avoiding the worst of the drizzle and the dizzying view of the waters below.

James wasn’t exaggerating when he said the shops were located right by the ship. The long line of small souvenir shops sits along the waterfront.

The distinct sound of an engine comes from somewhere above. I glance up, spotting a small red-and-white plane approaching. It zooms by in a flash, the wings on top and bottom reminding me of bookshelves.

In seconds, it’s out of sight, past the buildings and the trees lining the mountains on both sides of the wide stretch of rich blue water. Water deep enough to hold a ship the size of the Ice Maiden .

Saliva pools along the sides of my tongue. I glance away, toward the crowd of tourists milling about the stores.

“Oh, it’s the Maiden,” the people around point me out, a few stopping me along the way.

“Barron…”

“Is it true…”

“He’s so handsome…”

Every comment leads me back to the one man I don’t want to think about. I’m finally able to escape, though my phone tells me I don’t have much time left.

The first shop I come to has everything I need. Warmups with Alaska printed down a leg in bold white letters. A T-shirt with seals across the chest. Gray socks decorated with black bears. Underwear with bear cubs pictured on the hip. Just like James said, everything here has something to do with Alaska.

I pick up a more expensive, embroidered sweatshirt and head to the cashier. Guilt piles on me with every step.

I don’t care what you’ve already taken … Barron’s accusatory words echo in my mind, taunting me.

I should be able to hand my card over at the register and get a simple change of clothes. Maybe several, given that I’d still spend less on these few items than I would for a single T-shirt on the ship.

Even as I add up the total in my head, I can’t bring myself to take those last steps to the counter.

Although I can technically afford these, the money ultimately came from Miss Opal. After Barron’s little revelation, I can’t use a single dollar of her money without feeling like I’m ready to throw up.

Hot tears burn my eyes again as I put the sweatshirt back. How could I justify needing that when it’s warm out? Then I stack the T-shirt and the warmups and hang up the package of underwear on its peg with a trembling hand.

I step outside, blinking rapidly against the fresh assault of moisture in my eyes, only to be met with a huge black bear set up as a decoration. The massive paws are positioned upright, big enough to fully cover my entire head.

If we’d met up in the Alaskan wilderness, the ferocious creature would probably crush me without a second thought. Much like the man I’d been thinking of.

“Abby,” a familiar voice calls my name.

I pause, glancing around as shoppers crowd the sidewalk.

Doctor Stein is making his way toward me from another shop. He zigzags to avoid a few people and catches up. “Are you still shopping?”

“No.” I shake my head lightly. “I think I’m done exploring.”

“Are you heading to the suite, then?”

“Yes, Doctor. Did you need something?” I ask, doing my best to hide the feelings churning inside me at the thought of entering the suite.

“I could use a travel companion on the walk back,” he replies, angling a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the direction of the ship. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I agree, producing a smile, relieved to have someone along for the return trip. A buffer, in case Barron is in the living area when we arrive. I’m not ready to come face-to-face with him yet, not after the emotional whirlwind he’s put me through.

Walking up the ramp is a little easier since I’m not alone. Though waiting in line, with each new person adding more weight to the bridge, is nerve-racking.

“Maiden,” a security guard shouts from the front. He raises a beefy arm and waves us forward. For once, I’m glad to be recognized.

“Let’s go,” Doctor Stein urges.

We cut to the right and move up, with me excusing myself every few feet.

The guard’s shrill whistle splits the air, catching everyone’s attention. “Maiden coming through.” He waves a hand forward.

Comments follow us as people move aside.

“Hey, it’s the Maiden.”

“The Maiden.”

“Oh, where is she?”

“Thank you.” I give him an appreciative smile, grateful to make it on board without mishap.

He gives a single nod, not breaking the hard expression. “Hold it,” he says after he lets me by.

“He’s the ship’s doctor, Doctor Stein,” I explain.

“Go ahead.” The security lets him go by.

The doctor gives a wry smile. “I guess you have the right connections.”

“I don’t know about that,” I murmur, putting my phone and card in the container before moving through the scanner.

“You didn’t buy anything?” Doctor Stein asks, as we clear the security area.

The passengers coming aboard are loaded with shopping bags, while I have nothing.

“No, I just needed to stretch my legs.” It’s the first plausible excuse I can come up with, but it seems to satisfy his curiosity.

“Can we get a selfie with the Maiden?” a guy calls out as the doctor and I navigate through the crowded walkway toward the private elevator.

I turn to find two men, who have obviously been drinking, grinning widely at me.

“Sure,” I reply, pasting on a polite smile then turn to Doctor Stein, offering an apologetic expression. “Could you spare a minute?”

“I can go on ahead if?—”

“Would you mind waiting?” I glance toward the guy and his friend. I’d rather he thinks I’m asking him to stay because of them than admit my true concern is who might be waiting upstairs. “Please?”

He catches my underlying meaning and acknowledges it with a brief look of understanding, stepping aside to let people pass. “I’ll wait here for you.”

I retrace my steps to the two fans and stand between them. One stretches his arm out and takes several selfies from different angles, pulling me snugly against his side.

The other leans in entirely too close behind me. His hot beer breath brushes my neck as he looks over my shoulder at the image being captured.

Done, he turns to me, his gaze roving my face with unadorned interest.

“Hey thanks, beautiful.” He grins, focusing on my mouth. “Can I tag you on this?”

He holds up his phone, the picture he took already showing me plastered between them, trying not to appear uncomfortable.

“You can tag the cruise line,” I suggest, untangling myself from the situation and putting some distance between us as I rejoin the doctor.

“But how about you, sweetheart?” the guy persists, undeterred. “I wanna remember that gorgeous face.”

“I’ll see it there.” Ignoring anything else, I give a curt wave as we continue on our way.

“You’ve become quite the popular fixture on this ship,” he comments mildly once we’re out of earshot. He uses his key card to call the elevator.

I’ve been killing time, trying to keep a low profile. Which, thanks to Holly’s plan, hasn’t been easy.

“A bit. Apparently, people are curious about the Maiden.”

He leans against the wall, a hand resting casually on the railing as he studies me. “I’m sure it’s more than them wanting to know about the cruise line.”

“Well, I did get a few questions that almost made me make up a fake boyfriend to discourage them.”

“You don’t say,” he replies in a tone filled with understanding.

“I tried to keep things focused on the cruise itself, and what I could about the Maiden.”

“Smart girl,” he says with approval in his voice. “The wisest thing you can do is redirect away from yourself and your private life.”

“So I’ve been told.” I look up at him through my lashes. Yes, I heard a thing or two about his own exploits while I was getting my hair done this morning.

He tilts his head down, hiding a grin. His manner of avoidance is relying on silence.

“Luckily, I read through the website before coming on board. The rest came from listening to Holly and Barron answer similar questions.” Most importantly, I avoided answering personal questions and ones dealing with Barron.

Is he single?

Several women were curious about his status. Even a particularly flamboyant man tried picking my brain.

I heard he’s married.

It took a bit, but it sounds like people may have thought Miss Opal, or Mrs. McClelland, was his wife instead of his mother. Since he doesn’t want to share about his life, I should suggest she go by Miss Opal.

Is it true Barron and Bronwyn O’Neal are hooking up?

I played dumb, but that question has been bouncing around in my head. Bronwyn’s comment from earlier left me wondering. So, this is where you went when you left me last night? Is that where he was? With her?

The elevator doors slide open. I lead the way, pointedly ignoring the table in front of the mirror. The door looms ahead. My heart’s beating harder as we get closer, not knowing what I’ll find.

I hold the medallion up to the sensor then plug in the number, letting us into the suite. “I’ll run and see if Miss Opal is here.”

“No need to run,” he replies as we walk in. “I wouldn’t mind the company of a beautiful woman for a few more minutes.”