I took myself below deck, if only to put some space between me and Hayden so I could think clearly. That man confused me like no one else I’d ever met. One moment, we were laughing and enjoying being on the ocean, and the next he ripped my moment of happiness out from under me.

My mind whirred, wondering if there might be a way I could trip him up. He wanted me to think of something only my father and I would know, but if I was smart about it, I could make up something that was nonsense, and then my father wouldn’t know where to come, even if he did break free.

But if Hayden wasn’t able to kill my father, he would never let me go.

That was what I was offered—my father’s life for my own. My father didn’t deserve to live, but, after what I’d done, I had to wonder if I had any more right to a life than he did. After all, we were both killers now.

I had a third option. I could wait until we were on dry land then try to escape. That way, I may save my father’s life, but I might also save Hayden. If he didn’t get the opportunity to kill Patrick Dorman, maybe he’d finally move on and live his life. Because I wasn’t only worried about him killing my father, I also hated the idea of Hayden spending the rest of his life behind bars. It was such a waste of what could be an incredible life. He was handsome, rich, clearly talented in business. Admittedly, he wasn’t exactly emotionally balanced, and that he could kidnap a woman and hold her captive beneath his house might not work for his future relationships, but I still hated to think of him throwing his life away.

If I escaped, I might be helping him as well as myself.

Unless he changed tactics and found a new way to kill my father.

What Hayden said about torturing me also made my stomach churn. Did Hayden really intend to torture me? I wouldn’t put it past him if it got him what he wanted. He’d knocked me unconscious with chloroform, and zipped me up in a bag, and then locked me down in the dark. He had this whole ‘not hurting women’ bizarre moralistic code, but while he hadn’t hit me, I couldn’t pretend like the things he’d done hadn’t hurt.

My body ached from where we’d had sex, but still I tingled between my thighs at the memory of what we’d done together. It was as though I couldn’t trust myself around him. I simply had no control. I desired him in a way I’d never lusted for a man before. And when he was being sweet and caring, I wanted to peel off my skin and climb into his with him. But then he reverted back to the coldhearted man who’d kidnapped me, and I couldn’t figure out which was the real Hayden—the gentle one I caught glimpses of, or the coldhearted one his mother’s murder must have created.

I lay back on the bed, one arm over my eyes, and felt the rise and fall of the boat over the waves beneath me. We had at least a couple of days on the boat, and I wasn’t going to hide down here the whole time. Aside from needing to eat, and also wanting the sun and fresh air after spending so much time locked up beneath Hayden’s house, I was also going to end up seasick down here. I didn’t notice the motion so much when I was above deck, but already my stomach started to lurch. Being on deck also meant being around Hayden, but I couldn’t do much about that. I just needed to set some boundaries.

I almost laughed at the thought. He was still my kidnapper. I wasn’t a free woman, however much it felt like I was living a life of luxury aboard this boat. How did you go about setting boundaries with a man who thought he owned you?

The boat lifted and fell, lifted and fell, and I forced myself to sit up. My queasiness only increased, and I knew I wasn’t going to get any better by staying down here. As much as I wanted to avoid Hayden, I wasn’t going to make myself ill by locking myself up.

I got to my feet and staggered over to the cabin door. The floor swelled and subsided beneath my feet, the walls closing in, and heat rushed to my face and drained away again just as quickly. I pushed my way out of the cabin, using the walls to keep my balance. I didn’t know if we’d headed into rougher waters, or if it was because I was focusing more on it now, but the waves definitely felt bigger.

I lurched my way back up on deck. The cool, fresh air hit my face, and I gulped it down. From what I could see, it didn’t look as though the conditions had changed at all.

Hayden was sitting at the helm station, looking ahead, but he must have heard or sensed me coming up, as he turned to glance over his shoulder. He caught sight of me and frowned. “Jesus, Jolie. You’re white. Are you feeling okay?” He was on his feet, heading over to me, but I put out a hand to ward him off. I didn’t trust myself around him.

“I’m fine. I just need some fresh air.”

I turned and pushed my way out to the back of the boat and perched on the seating that ran down the sides. I’d thought Hayden might have followed me out here, but when he didn’t, my stomach dipped in disappointment. I had to keep reminding myself that I was a means to an end. We might have had sex, but that didn’t mean I meant anything to him.

I kept my chin lifted, staring out to sea. I was sure I’d read somewhere that it helped seasickness to watch the horizon. I sucked in a couple of deep lungsful of fresh, salty air, and, though the nausea remained, it wasn’t as bad as it had been below deck. Damn. I’d need to get my sea legs soon. If we had a couple of days ahead of us on this boat, I couldn’t spend the entire time up here.

The sliding glass door which led onto the living area opened, and Hayden stepped through carrying something in a mug.

“Here,” he said, handing it to me. “This will help.”

I took the mug and frowned down at it. It looked like hot water with bits floating on the top. I wrinkled my nose. “What is it?”

“Ginger. It’ll help with the nausea. Trust me.”

I cocked my eyebrows. “Trust you?”

He only wore shorts, and I couldn’t help feasting on the sight of his naked torso. Even feeling sick, it seemed I was unable to help myself around him.

He shrugged. “Okay, don’t trust me. Just carry on feeling sick. But it will help.”

I took a tentative sip. The water was hot, and the spicy ginger burned its way down my throat. The smell did help a little, though, and I held the cup closer. “Thanks,” I said, though it was begrudging.

“You’ll get used to the movement,” he told me with a half-smile. “It won’t last.”

I hoped he was right.

He turned and went back to the helm, leaving me sitting out in the open, nursing my mug of hot water and ginger.

I smiled ruefully to myself. Hayden could be kind, when he wanted to be. I fully expected him to counteract that with some kind of threat or by tying me up in the next few hours, but for the moment I’d try to relax.

Sometime, in the next couple of days, we’d reach our destination, and then I’d have to figure out how I was going to play things.