text.skipToContent text.skipToNavigation

The Cayman Caper von Hall, Danelle (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 18.07.2016
  • Verlag: BookBaby
eBook (ePUB)
4,75 €
inkl. gesetzl. MwSt.
Sofort per Download lieferbar

Online verfügbar

The Cayman Caper

R. J. Behr needs a fake fiancee. Loxie Llewellyn needs rent money. From Queens, New York to the Cayman Islands, the repercussions from this masquerade leaves R. J.'s father missing from a cruise ship and Loxie adrift in a leaky boat in the middle of a large ocean. Wanted: One shining knight to fix things. Height not important.


    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: none
    Seitenzahl: 200
    Erscheinungsdatum: 18.07.2016
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9781483576305
    Verlag: BookBaby
    Größe: 332kBytes
Weiterlesen weniger lesen

The Cayman Caper

Chapter 1 Water, water everywhere and not a drop... At first, Loxie Llewellyn thought she was in the middle of one of her odd dreams. But her dreams happened at night and she could feel the sun directly above her, scorching her eyes, turning her lips to cracked leather. Her skin burned and stung. Shading her eyes, she carefully sat up, surprised at how sore she was. Every muscle felt as if someone had tenderized it with a meat hammer. She made it to her knees and glimpsed an endless expanse of water before a wave tilted the deck and set her back on her butt. An approaching cloud bank shut out the sun. She felt the ribbed decking beneath her hand. She smelled the wet faintly fishy scent. She licked her lips. Her tongue was almost as dry as her lips. Water all around and she was thirsty. Brutally thirsty. At that thought, she turned a full three sixty. No land anywhere. Sullen, shifting ocean. Overcast sky. Shades of gray in every direction. At least her skin felt better with the savage UV rays blocked by the clouds. Her brain felt like mush so panic was slow to build inside her chest but twitches and tremors began to ease toward her fingertips. How could she be on a boat in the middle of the ocean with no memory of what had happened? Adam planned to go out and say goodbye to Charles and she'd planned to go with him. That much she remembered, but it was shadowy insubstantial knowledge. Oh, god, Adam hadn't gone overboard, had he? Had there been a storm? The boat rocked gently and the ocean didn't seem disturbed. No sense of terror remained in her mind. Probably no storm or the waves would still be thrashing about. So where was Adam? She spotted the stairs leading down to the galley. Crawled to the stairs and called, "Adam? Are you down there?" Silence. She sucked in one shallow breath after another. R. J. had come to tell her goodbye. She remembered him by the guest house elevator. He'd seemed embarrassed and grieving but happy too. He and Christine were returning to the states on the morning flight. That memory crept from the cobwebs. She and Adam were staying. Why? Charles. R. J.'s father was missing. They were in George Town in the Caymans because Charles had vanished from a cruise ship. So thirsty. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. The motion of the deck beneath her unsettled her stomach. Another quick look around hadn't changed the clouded sky, produced Adam or brought help. She licked her lips and listened to the waves slapping against the side of the boat. A small shuddering breath escaped her dry throat. Okay. She'd returned to her room, started to remove her clothes for bed. Then a knock. Someone had knocked on her door. An image of a slender woman with auburn hair and a charming bell-like laugh slid into her mind. Christine. Charles' wife. R. J.'s stepmother. The reason she had been in a hotel room in the Cayman Islands. Probably the reason she was on a becalmed boat in the middle of the Caribbean Ocean. Christine had breezed in holding up the bottle of wine. She'd moved to the TV stand and without waiting for Loxie's agreement, poured them a nightcap. "A goodbye toast," she'd said. Loxie remembered the cool breeze that had whipped the white curtains and brought in the scent of flowers. The sound of the surf had been gentle. Overhead a ceiling fan had moved the moist air. Right. They were on Grand Cayman, on the outskirts of George Town. Pastel houses. Impossibly blue skies. Whipped cream clouds sometimes. Oh, Drat. Christine. The last image Loxie had was of Christine smiling that smile of hers as the drugged wine sent her to the rug in her room. Somebody else had come into her room then. A

Weiterlesen weniger lesen