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Authors: Isla Whitcroft

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BOOK: Trapped
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She put her phone down.

‘Put it there.' She gestured to the dressing table without even looking at Cate. ‘There, babe, there,' she said more impatiently as Cate hesitated.

Remembering what Marcus had said, Cate thought desperately of a conversation opener. ‘What are you wearing tonight?' she asked timidly.

‘Dunno, babe.' Nancy, who was sitting on the bed checking the glossy black varnish on her toenails, sounded vaguely shocked at Cate's initiative.

Cate ploughed bravely on. ‘I unpacked all your stuff today. It was – amazing.'

This time Nancy looked up. ‘Oh yeah, right, er, thanks.' She looked at Cate properly for the first time. ‘Tell you what, babe. You probably know what clothes I've brought better than I do, and I'm not sure about what Jules has chosen for tonight. So you tell me what to wear for my gorgeous fella. Something sexy but not too slinky. Definitely not tarty, blingy sexy. He can get that anytime from a Russian girl if he wants it. No, I have to look classy.'

‘You couldn't look anything else,' said Cate and this time she meant the compliment. ‘But I do think you look fab in midnight blue. It sort of sets your hair off and makes your skin glow.'

For a minute Cate thought she might have overdone the compliments. But Nancy was delighted.

‘Clever,' said the supermodel approvingly. ‘I can see we're gonna be great mates.' She leant into the pile of clothes on the bed and pulled out a dark blue sleeveless shift and held it against her slender frame. The neckline was high and demure
but to make up for that, the floaty hem wafted somewhere only just below her knicker line.

With a deft movement she slithered out one foot and then another and suddenly she was standing in the smallest sliver of silver wedged sandals which added another four inches to her already giraffe-like legginess.

‘It's gorgeous,' said Cate, gaping. ‘It's perfect. Then just a silver bracelet and some really long earrings and you're pretty much done.'

‘Blimey, babe,' Nancy sat back down on the bed. ‘Well, that's another favour you've done me today. Me and Jules usually spend hours working out what to wear. What am I going to do with myself? Read a book?'

She laughed, her wide generous mouth curving open as she threw back her head in real enjoyment and suddenly she was transformed from a sulky sophisticate to something approaching a normal young woman.

There was a sharp tap at the door and Nancy's smile faded. Without a word, Lulu bustled into the cabin, her quick efficient gaze taking in the shambolic mess and, Cate was sure, the friendly vibe between herself and Nancy.

‘Oh my God, Nancy, you're not thinking of wearing
that,
are you?' Lulu said sharply, her accent sounding stronger than ever in the small space. ‘You wore that dress two weeks ago in New York at the Museum of Fashion event. Your picture was everywhere, simply everywhere. Do you want Tass to laugh at you, to think you are a cheap woman who wears the same things again and again? This is how you compete with the daughters of billionaires? Put it down, put it down now.'

Cate was cringing with embarrassment. She waited with baited breath for Nancy to lay into Lulu. But instead the supermodel looked tired and deflated. ‘Sorry,' she mumbled. ‘I forgot. Thanks, Lulu.'

Lulu was now stalking triumphantly around the cabin, picking up clothes and shoes and taking them through to the walk-in wardrobe. As she did so, Cate spotted something very odd. There were many pictures of children – Nancy's brood Cate presumed – adorning the walls. But, on the bedside table stood a cluster of silver framed photographs featuring Nancy with various animals – rare animals: a Siberian tiger, a giant turtle, a silver-back gorilla, taken at locations ranging from what looked like a rainforest, to a mountainside, to the bluest of oceans. Cate tried to move closer to the pictures to get a better look, but as she did so Lulu came back into the cabin and let rip at her.

‘What are you still doing here?' she barked. ‘You're in the way. Go.'

Cate shot a glance at Nancy, but she had her back turned and was looking around the wardrobe. Cate realised that Nancy had forgotten all about her. As she left the room she made a mental note to find a way back in there for a thorough search as soon as possible.

As she passed the kitchen, she saw that Marcus had finally returned. He had his back to the door and was hard at work flambéing a hunk of meat over a very lively flame. She paused, uncertain as to whether she should talk to him or ignore him. She decided that the first course of action would be the most natural. ‘Hey, Marcus,' she called out. ‘How're you doing?'

Marcus turned and grinned at her. The transformation was extraordinary. Gone was the taut-faced Marcus of just a few hours earlier and in his place was the laid-back chef. ‘Thanks for bringing the shopping back,' said Marcus. ‘Any orders for tonight from the boss?'

‘Don't think so,' said Cate. ‘But I really didn't get a chance to ask her. I think she just wants something romantic for her and Tass.'

‘Leave it to Marcus,' he said, winking at her. ‘Food and romance, they're my two favourite words in the whole of the world.'

Cate, still stunned at his ability to switch personalities so easily and convincingly, made her escape and went to look for Wendy.

‘What can I do to help, Wendy?' she asked, when she found the steward up on the top deck by the pool. The afternoon sun was finally losing its burn and the heat was pleasant and soothing. Smells of garlic and frying steaks were beginning to drift out from the other boats in the marina.

‘Mmmm. Well, Tass is due in about half an hour,' said Wendy, folding the thick towels with origami-like precision and placing them on the ends of the sun loungers. ‘He'll bring bodyguards with him – his dad insists on it – and they'll need feeding. I guess I'll do the main waiting up here and you bring the drinks then go down and look after the bodyguards. You'll be on call until Tass and Nancy go out and party or turn in for the night. Either way, I'll do the late shift this time in case they want anything in the night. Your turn next time.'

‘Fair enough,' said Cate. A thought struck her. ‘Shall I tidy
Nancy's room while she's out on deck?' she said carefully. ‘It was a bit of a shambles earlier.'

‘Thanks, Cate, if you're not too tired that'd be great.' Wendy sounded pleased and slightly touched, and for a few seconds Cate felt a pang of guilt that she was not exactly offering because she was feeling helpful. ‘But if she wants to go back into the room for any reason you have to leave it immediately. Be careful.'

Don't worry
, thought Cate, her heart racing at the thought of her first ever spying assignment.
You have no idea how careful I'll be
.

There was a clatter of footsteps on the pontoon below and the two of them rushed to peer over the polished timber handrails. Beneath them on the pontoon stood three men. Two were tall, easily topping six foot four and dwarfing the smaller man who stood between them.

‘They're early,' said Wendy through a gritted smile as she waved to them.

One of the bodyguards was very broad, his shoulders straining out from an oversized beige jacket and his thick neck almost as wide as his closely shaven blond head. As Cate looked him up and down she spotted a bulge around the left waist of his dark blue chinos, scarcely concealed by the jacket he was wearing.

Armed
, thought Cate. The other man was as dark as his companion was blond. Dark skinned, dark hair cut in a similar but slightly less severe manner than his colleague. He was dressed all in black: black T-shirt, jeans and leather ankle boots. The entire effect was one, Cate thought, of a pantomime
villain. But any urge to snigger at his appearance quickly faded when Cate spotted that he too was armed and this time there was no attempt to cover up what looked like a pistol equipped with a silencer.
An assassin's weapon
, Cate thought with a shiver, and shot a sideways glance at Wendy to see if she had noticed. But her boss seemed oblivious.

‘Good evening, Tass,' she called down to the smallest of the three men below. ‘Great to see you. Welcome aboard.'

Without waiting to witness his raised hand of acknowledgment, she moved quickly towards the spiral staircase and disappeared down them at double-quick pace with Cate following at a distance.

As they reached the boarding deck, they saw that the two bodyguards had already put on deck shoes and were striding purposefully up the gangplank. Cate took a deep breath as they came towards her.

‘Welcome aboard,' she said with her best smile. ‘I'm Cate and I will be happy to help you.'

Both men inclined their heads politely as they walked past her. ‘I'm Mikey,' said the tall blond-haired man with a distinctly Cockney accent. His pale blue eyes were expressionless and he had the sort of bland face that was hard to remember, a face that would blend easily into a crowd and be hard to describe after he had gone. ‘And my mate 'ere is Ahmed. He don't speak much English but he's good wiv a gun.'

Ahmed turned a pair of very pale green eyes on Cate and then passed over her dismissively.

‘Nice to meet you, Cate, and fanks for the welcome,' continued Mikey. ‘But don't worry, luv, we've been 'ere before.
We know where everyfing is and we'll make ourselves comfortable. Now if you don't mind, we'll just check out the boat for anything untoward. In our own time.'

Cate looked uncertainly towards Wendy who was at the bottom of the gangplank exchanging kisses with Tass then nodded at her. ‘Whatever, Cate,' she said. ‘Just let them get on with it. They've got a job to do protecting their boss.'

Suddenly Cate felt a lurch of panic. The gun was still tucked carefully under her bed, a place that no doubt the men would look first. She had a sickening feeling that she had been terribly, stupidly, careless not to have dealt with this problem before.

Cate turned to the men and in desperation she watched them as they set off to the top deck.

Cate had to get to her cabin now, but as she tried to make her escape she heard Wendy calling her back.

‘Cate. Cate, this is Tass Taplinski.'

Reluctantly, Cate turned back and then had to stop her jaw from dropping. She had seen pictures of Tass over the years, coming out of nightclubs with a gorgeous woman on his arm, at Ascot, Wimbledon and the Stowe Ball, and of course the latest shots of him at various social events with Nancy Kyle. But, Cate realised, those pictures which had shown him to be a good-looking guy had hardly done him justice. Standing in front of her, gazing into her face with his extraordinary almond-shaped blue-black eyes was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen in her life.

Strong wavy hair curled over olive-tinted skin and, despite the fact that he had not played on the tennis circuit for almost
five years, he still had the physical tautness and toned hardness of a professional athlete. He was around five foot ten, Cate guessed, but his broad shoulders and narrow hips made him look much taller.

There was, thought Cate, something almost fake in his perfection, as if he had been airbrushed into looking that good. He belonged on the pages of magazines and in the movies – not here standing in front of her. She sighed inwardly.

To her annoyance, Cate felt almost breathless as she shook his hand and she guessed he knew the effect he was having on her.

‘Well hello, Cate,' he drawled in an accent that was an attractive mix between his native Russian and North American. ‘It's very good to meet you. It's always great to have new people around and if Wendy recommends you – well, any friend of hers is a friend of mine!'

He turned to Wendy and anyone could see the effect his words were having on her – she smiled adoringly at him. That made Cate want to giggle.

Get a grip girl
, she thought.
He's a smug poser who loves himself far too much
.

‘I know where to come if I need anything,' said Tass, turning back to Cate. ‘And now, if you two ladies will excuse me, I must go to see the gorgeous Nancy.
Ciao, ciao
for now.'

He headed through the glass doors and towards the master suite. But before he could take more than a few steps, there was a huge scream as a whirl of energy flung herself into his arms.

‘Darling, Tass!' It was Nancy, immaculately dishevelled and
smelling of Chanel No 5. ‘What kept you so long, you naughty boy?'

Taking his hand she led him back into the salon of the boat. Wendy heaved an audible sigh and Cate shot her a sympathetic glance.

But she had more pressing concerns on her mind. The gun had to be hidden and hidden quickly.

‘Wendy,' she said. ‘Now everyone's on board do you mind if I have a quick break to freshen up and have something to eat before we start serving dinner. Is that OK?'

Wendy, still in a dreamlike state, waved her hand vaguely and Cate shot off down below decks. To her relief, the bodyguards had not yet made their way to the crew quarters. She thought fast. It was way too late to hand the gun into the police and she didn't want to just pitch it overboard in case it somehow got washed ashore.

She had to be honest with herself. The events of the last two days meant that she actually liked the thought of having a gun around. It was her protection if the worst came to the worst. She shook her head, amazed at how much her world – and her attitudes – had changed in just a few days.

Cate suddenly had a brainwave. She headed to the mess room and opened the small chest freezer in the kitchenette. A few seconds of rummaging around and she had what she was looking for – a packet of frozen vegetables. Her heart racing, she double checked that the corridor was still empty and nipped back into her room, fished the gun from under the bed and slipped it inside her T-shirt.

No one ever eats brussels sprouts
, she thought to herself as she
slid the pistol inside the packet of stubby vegetables. She pushed it right down to the bottom of the freezer. ‘And no one ever looks more than three quarters of the way down a freezer.'

BOOK: Trapped
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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