Twenty One

Erin opened the door of the stateroom and peered down the narrow corridor that ended in a flight of stairs leading to the deck above.

Still smarting from Ethan's desertion, she walked towards the stairs, mentally retracing the path Ethan had led them through when they'd boarded. The polished wood floor echoed her footsteps in a rather unsettling way and Erin wondered if she was the only one on the boat.

She wouldn't put it past that arrogant bastard to leave her marooned in the middle of the ocean. It was the sort of petty, ridiculous thing he seemed to enjoy.

Another cringe ran through her as she remembered how easily she had given in to him. Granted the man could kiss like it was a talent, but that was no excuse.

Christ Lord Almighty! She'd acted like a hormonal sex starved teenager, letting him make love to her not just once or twice in the space of one evening. And now she had muscles aching in places she hadn't been aware of existing.