Page 95 of No One Aboard
Lila inhaled and calmed. She rarely, if ever, snapped at him.
“Anyways...” She took another deep breath to clear her head. “Alejandro just put the meat loaf in the fridge to defrost it for tomorrow. And I was hoping you would help me slap together some decorations so the twins can at least get the sense of a normal birthday.”
Best to keep everyone busy and the momentum moving forward until midnight.
“That’s a great idea.” Francis let his arms drop. He stepped toward her. Alarm bells went off in Lila’s head. What was this about the bilges? Had he caught that comment? What exactly did Tia know? “How about a poster with their names on it?”
“Well, we don’t really have poster board...”
“We could cut out little fish and hang them around the salon. Have Rylan pretend he’s living underwater.”
It wasn’t a bad plan, albeit a rather juvenile one for a pair of teenagers, but Lila didn’t say so. She couldn’t find her voice.
Francis backed her into the couch until her knees buckled and she fell onto the cushions. “Or—I know—how about another tea party? We can set out sugar cubes and teacups.”
“Francis—”
“We can tell our children how brilliant and beautiful and strong they both are.”
Lila’s hands twisted her silk robe, which pooled in her lap. “Francis, don’t—”
“We can ask them what drives them, what burns in them, what makes themCamerons.” He leered at her. “What makes us Camerons, Lil?”
He knew.
She didn’t know how, but she knew he did. He knew about her and Alejandro. He had been monitoring her; the matching jewelry gift to Tia at the beginning of the trip had been evidence of that, had been his way of sending a message that he was watching. But she could have sworn they’d been careful...
“Well?” he asked, and she reached up for his face. It seemed to surprise him.
“We take,” she answered simply. She couldn’t reach his cheek without standing, and she couldn’t stand unless he backed away. So she waited, arm outstretched.
Francis regarded her, shoulders rife with tension. Then he took her hand. Pulled her to her feet as daintily as if she were a ballerina or a cherry blossom. She leaned her weight into him.
He wanted to be the one taking, that’s all. He couldn’t stand being taken from. It was disloyalty that upset him most.
“You’re right.” The fight seemed to drain from him. Or perhaps his anger repositioned itself.
He trailed a finger through her hair, caught a small knot, broke it loose. The finger found Lila’s jawbone and ran down the line of her face, snagged on her chin. He tilted her head up.
“We take,” he echoed.
Then he climbed up the companionway of the salon. Lila followed. Wind hummed on deck, a requiem. Or maybe the beginnings of a hymn. Lila wore nothing but silk panties beneath her robe, and the wind found its way underneath, nipping at the softer parts of her skin. She shouldn’t have been cold on this part of the Atlantic in June, but clouds bruised the southern sky.
They were sailing into a storm.
“Nico, you’re relieved of watch duty early,” Francis snapped at Nico, who was at the helm with Alejandro.
Alejandro’s eyes met Lila’s. She wondered what she looked like to him. Frightened and fragile? Desperate to warn him? She commanded herself to do so, but her body didn’t listen.
“Relieved? I thought you wanted me to take your whole shift tonight,” Nico said.
“Storm’s brewing. I want to take charge. Go on.”
They traded places. Nico nodded to his uncle and disappeared belowdecks.
“How bad’s the storm?” Alejandro asked.
But he wasn’t looking at Francis. He kept his gaze trained on Lila. How could she answer him? She had been crossing her fingers for a tranquil night. Her plan would be smoother that way.
