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  Gently, Bridget reached out and took the phone from Jenner’s nerveless fingers, slipping it inside her own jacket. “There’s no need to panic,” she said. “We don’t want to harm either of you, but we’ll do whatever’s necessary. As the man said, do what you’re told, and you’ll be all right.”

  Chapter Ten

  IF THERE WAS ONE THING JENNER DISLIKED, IT WAS someone telling her to do what she was told. Anger began to boil in her veins. She’d been away from the tough streets of Chicago for a long time, but the old instincts remained. Her eyes narrowed and her chin lowered even as she took a step back to better assess her enemy.

  “Don’t try it,” Bridget gently advised. “I can take you without breaking a sweat.”

  Now that she had a good look at her, Jenner had to admit that was probably true. She herself was in good shape, but Bridget’s solid muscles showed under her trim uniform. Jenner had often wished for bigger boobs, but right now she didn’t give a damn about boobs, she wanted big muscles to go with those judo classes she’d taken.

  The bad thing was, Bridget probably had more training than some classes that taught basic self-defense. And even more than muscles, she had something else: Sydney. Just the thought of her friend being held by people, whoever they were, was enough to squelch Jenner’s almost overwhelming urge to fight fast, fight dirty, and scream her head off at the same time.

  Nevertheless, she was compelled to say, “If Syd is hurt in any way, I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth.” Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to say to someone who held all the cards, but she meant it, and the absolute truth of that glittered in her eyes—for all the good it did.

  “Whether or not she’s hurt is completely up to you, and how good an actress you are,” Bridget returned, unperturbed.

  Actress? They thought she was an actress? What was going on? She’d fallen down the rabbit hole, Jenner thought, looking around the room for clarification, because, once again, what she’d heard didn’t make sense. “I’m not an actress,” she said, bewildered. “Do you have me mixed up with someone else?” That was far-fetched, but actresses did tend to be blond and skinny, and she was both permanently skinny and temporarily blond, so at least the possibility existed. “I’m Jenner Redwine. I’ve never acted in anything in my life!”

  “Then you’ll need to learn fast,” said Bridget. “And there’s no mix-up. I wish we didn’t have to do this, but circumstances changed”—she shrugged, as if to say what can you do?—“and here we are. So have a seat, Ms. Redwine, and I’ll tell you what we want from you.”

  Jenner didn’t see that she had a choice, but it still galled her to have to do as directed, which was proof that she never had been and never would be any kind of actress, good or bad. She sat down on the curved gold damask sofa, her expression mutinous and her eyes still flashing a promise of retribution.

  Bridget sighed. “Better Cael than me,” she murmured, half under her breath.

  “What? Who?” Jenner demanded, having caught only half of that.

  Bridget sat, also, which Jenner thought was probably against all sorts of steward rules, but hell, she obviously wasn’t a real steward, she was involved in a kidnapping, so why would she care about a little rule like not sitting down in one of the staterooms? “First,” she began, “there are several of us onboard, and, no, I’m not going to tell you who everyone is. You’ll meet a few of us, but there are more. You’ll be watched at all times.”

  Clever, Jenner thought. She had no way of knowing if that were true or not, if she was being watched by unknown people, or if Bridget was saying that just to keep her in line. Either way, she’d have to assume the statement was true, because Syd’s life hung in the balance.

  Her doubt and frustration must have shown on her face, because Bridget sighed again. “Don’t overthink it, just go with what I tell you.”

  “Yeah,” Jenner said with heavy irony. “Because you’re so trustworthy.”

  Bridget’s lips tightened a little, but her tone remained calm. “Whether or not I’m trustworthy has nothing to do with the situation.”

  That was interesting, Jenner thought. A kidnapper who cared what the victim thought about her? She mentally filed that little tidbit away. Right now, Bridget and whoever was helping her had the upper hand, but every bit of information Jenner could glean might eventually come in handy. She might be able to play one of them against the other. But so what if she did? How would that change Sydney’s situation, except for the worse? It wouldn’t. She had to remember that, not let her anger and natural resistance lead her to do something rash. She had to remember Sydney.

  “The phone in here has been disabled,” said Bridget, indicating the phone on the wall. “Likewise the phone in the bedroom. Feel free to check them if you don’t believe me.”

  Believe her? Hah! Thinking how stupid she’d feel if she didn’t check the phones and later found out Bridget had lied, Jenner promptly got to her feet and checked them both. They were corded phones, or they were supposed to have been, but both cords were gone, so, yes, the phones had definitely been disabled.

  Bridget had silently followed her into the bedroom, watching her. “You’re right,” Jenner agreed, stating the obvious. “No phones.” They were going to a lot of trouble to make certain she didn’t contact anyone, despite holding Syd’s safety over her head. Either they thought she might be stupid enough to do something that would endanger Syd, or they took no chances, period.

  Bridget inclined her head in acknowledgment, then said, “Here’s what’s going to happen. The first night at sea, there’s no formal dinner because everyone is too busy getting settled, but the casual restaurants and bars are open. You’ll go out to eat alone. If anyone asks, Ms. Hazlett had to cancel at the last minute because of a stomach virus. In a day or so, she’ll be allowed to call her father and tell him the same thing, in case someone here onboard sends an e-mail or text message to her father, asking if she’s okay.”

  That meant they planned on Syd still being alive a couple of days from now, Jenner thought, and went cold at the realization that the exact opposite could so easily have been true.

  “After you eat, go out to the Fog Bank, which is the aft bar on the Lido deck—”

  “Where’s aft?”

  Bridget paused, as if she wasn’t certain whether or not Jenner was pulling her leg.

  “Look,” Jenner said testily, “I’ve never been on a ship before. I intended to rely on Syd to lead me around until I got things figured out, but you screwed that up, so if you want me in a particular place at a particular time, it’s up to you to get me there.”

  “Aft is the rear of the ship,” replied Bridget with grim patience. “This suite is on the left side, the port side, of the ship. When you leave the room, turn right, and you’ll be heading aft.”

  “Okay. Aft bar, Lido deck. Where’s the Lido deck?”

  “The elevator buttons are named instead of numbered, as I’m sure you noticed when you took the elevator up to this deck. The Lido deck is the fun deck. The top deck is usually the sports deck, and the second deck is the Lido. The Lido is where games are played—”

  “How appropriate,” Jenner murmured.

  Bridget’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. Her calm was beginning to show a few cracks. Still, she ignored Jenner’s interruption and continued, “A couple will get into an argument. Their names are Cael and Tiffany. They’re sharing a stateroom, but they’ll break up, very publicly. Then he’ll approach you, and it’ll be love at first sight.”

  “Unlikely. I’m not the impulsive type. And I’m not known for picking up sleazoids.”

  “Pretend,” Bridget said briefly, through clenched teeth.

  “That I’ve suddenly lost all my common sense and taste? Ooookay.”

  “Oh, jeez,” Bridget said under her breath. Then, more loudly, “Cael’s a good-looking guy, so your taste won’t come into question. He’ll hit on you, and all you have to do is act smitten. He’ll finesse the details, come back