Page 40 of Knot for Sale

Apparently, the yacht’s captain was less than thrilled with the transfer, and she had made her feelings known.Strenuously.

Em’s pheromones were spiking, her distinctive fruity absinthe scent filling the cabin like an old-fashioned London fog. It was screwing with my brain, trying to convince my instincts that coming along for the incipient fuck-fest sounded like aspectacularidea. I had no clue how Gabriel had managed to maintain his icy calm for the last twenty-four hours.

I needed some of that same calm, though, because I was officially the person charged with making sure Emma didn’t end up hurt, traumatized, abused, or pregnant. Or, for that matter,mysteriously lost at sea after becoming a disposable sex doll for some rich bastard and his two bodyguards.

My gut said we could trust Gabriel, and by extension, Curran and the mysterious Onyx. But, again, my gut was also being influenced by proximity to Emma’s perfume, and I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t my stupid instincts whispering at me to trust the hot alphas and let them take care of everything.

Just like I couldn’t be sure Emma’s instincts hadn’t been whispering the same thing to her earlier, after Curran contacted us and baldly laid out Emma’s options. Gabriel had given us privacy afterward to talk, but all Emma had wanted to do was pace restlessly in the confined space of the cabin like a caged tiger at the zoo.

“I want the blocker,” she’d said. “That’s still my first choice.”

“But?” I’d prompted, because even then it was painfully obvious that a blocker wasn’t going to hold back the tide at this late date.

She’d hugged herself, her shoulders hunching—her jerky pacing never easing up. “But... it’s just sex, right? I’ve had lots of sex.Lots. What’s another couple of partners in the grand scheme of things?”

I wasn’t proud of the relief I felt in that moment, but I also knew that a few days of constant sex toy use wasn’t going to cut it. If she’d asked for me to help her through her heat, that just would have meant listening to her crying and begging for the real thing until her body finally gave up on the prospect of getting pregnant and her heat petered out, unfulfilled.

Not a fun time for anyone involved.

“Just so we’re crystal clear on this,” I’d said, “you’re saying if it’s too late for the blocker, you’ll accept help from the alphas?”

She’d given a tight nod, not looking at me, her restless feet finally stuttering to a stop. “Yes. But only if the blocker won’t work.”

God, I thought,if you’re out there, please,pleaselet these alphas be trustworthy.

Fast forward to the present, and Em was back in her familiar hunch on the bed, rocking back and forth with a pillow clutched to her stomach. Her face was flushed, and tears tracked steadily down her cheeks.

I crawled onto the bed and knelt in front of her, not touching. I knew all too well the way an omega’s body could swing back and forth between craving touch and being repelled by it in the run-up to heat.

“Hang on, dove,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t really help. “They’re going to be here any minute now, I’m sure of it.”

She didn’t look up, her face twisted in a grimace of discomfort. The cramps must be getting worse, which wasn’t a good sign.

A knock sounded at the door—two slow, three fast, two slow.Gabriel. The lock clicked a moment later as he used his key card. I turned in time to see him hesitate in the doorway as though he’d hit a brick wall.

Pheromones again.

He recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “They’re here. They’ve dropped anchor on the port side. Time to leave.”

I rose from the bed. Emma remained frozen, her eyes fixed on Gabriel, pupils dilated until they almost swallowed her gray irises.

“Em,” I prompted.

She blinked and rose on shaky legs, not protesting when I darted out a hand to steady her.

Gabriel seemed to be holding himself very still. Then, he, too, blinked free of his reverie. “The luggage is waiting down by the swim deck. They hired a forty-foot sailboat, so there should be enough stowage to take everything with us. Just as well—I’m not in any real hurry to leave these people a forwarding address.”

“Let’s go, then.” I was a nervous wreck at the prospect of putting Em in these alphas’ hands, but staying here on this floating snake pit in the sea wasn’t an option.

It was the middle of the night, and under other circumstances, that might have spared us some of the gawkers. Unfortunately, this was a boat full of models and rich would-be playboys, so there were still people up and partying. Emma cringed and pressed closer to me every time someone turned and stared, her instincts on high alert.

She needed to be curled up in a warm, private nest right now, not on display in front of a bunch of freaking strangers with her asshole of an uncle lurking god-knew-where.

Instead of going up to the top deck, we were headed down. Silly me, I’d assumed that two ships at sea pulled up close to each other and lowered a gangway between the decks to transfer passengers. It turned out, trying to do it that way was insanely dangerous and only really happened in emergencies.

Instead, they dropped anchor a short distance apart and ferried people back and forth in dinghies, assuming the conditions were calm enough. That feltmoredangerous to me, not less... but what did I know?

At least we could both swim. Looking good while diving into a pool was practically part of the job description for models.

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