Page 32 of Obsessed Heir

I bite my lip, considering her words as I push the chair around to the other side of the room. I planned to make a quick exit, but now my taste buds want to stage a mutiny.

“Unless you would prefer something else,” he offers, clearly wanting to accommodate. “The meal may not be to your taste.”

“No, that does sound wonderful,” I agree.

“I will deliver a plate to your room.” He turns to the corner, picking up a tray. “You can set the dishes on the floor outside your door once you’re done. I’ll pick everything up later, or in the morning, if you need more time.”

“Thank you, James.” I’m grateful for his thoughtfulness in accommodating me. With any luck, I can get Miss Opal settled in front of the television. Then I’ll slip away to my room, avoiding any awkward encounters.

“Let’s move you to the couch so you’ll be comfortable.” I guide her wheelchair as close as possible so she doesn’t have far to go.

After locking the wheels in place, I go around helping her transfer over. She grips my arms as she rises, then we pivot, and she eases onto the plush cushions.

“There we are,” I say once she’s situated comfortably. “Would you like to watch something while you wait?”

“That would be lovely.” She gives me a grateful look, patting my arm fondly. “They have quite the selection of television series and movies available.”

I grab the remote from the end table, power on the television, then hand it over. “Do you need any help to work it?”

“I’m sure I can manage,” she says with a wink.

“May I offer you a nice cold drink?” James proposes. “I stocked the refrigerator for Mr. McClelland.”

“Abby, why don’t you see if we have ginger ale. That might settle your stomach.”

“I’ll get it, James.” I turn toward the kitchen, shooting a concerned glance toward the entrance.

“May I help you find a show?” James offers.

“Please do.” She hands him the remote.

Opening the refrigerator, I find water bottles, sodas, and some drink brands I don’t recognize. Picking a ginger ale, I spota can of iced tea sitting behind it. Oh, Miss Opal would have a field day with that.

“Did you have any luck, dear?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am. Do you want one?”

“Please.”

I grab a second drink and a glass to pour it into. While she’s loosened up a bit, she doesn’t approve of drinking straight out of a can when we have guests.

“Here you go.” I set the drink on the nearby end table.

“Go ahead and retire for the evening. There’s still plenty of time for you to enjoy the ship’s amenities.”

“Thank you both,” I reply with a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Go. He could show up any minute.

Taking the opportunity, I do my best to keep to a normal pace as I head to my room. It feels like the front door might open. It would be Barron arriving for dinner.

The thought brings back the image of that mocking stare. The click of the door handle makes me lightheaded. Has the distance to the hall somehow increased?

Almost there. Go-go-go.

I make it to the hall and speed up. The plush carpet muffles my steps, so they won’t know I’m practically running to remove myself from the possibility of confrontation.

Chapter Twelve

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