The voice told her that there was no phone service to the United States. All non-essential communications had to be approved by Mr. St. Pierre. ‘We’ll arrive in Aruba on Friday,’ she was told. She hung up and realized that something wasn’t right. Carver had said the meeting in Aruba was on Thursday. She could hear a thumping sound and thought the yacht’s engines must be churning. She snuck back into the suite and noticed two things were missing — Carver and her clothes. Then she realized what the thumping sound was. A few seconds later, she ran onto the deck to see Carver St. Pierre lifting off in the black helicopter. He waved good-bye as the helicopter disappeared into the night sky. Captain Lisoni walked to her as she watched Carver fly away. ‘Mr. St. Pierre would like me and my crew to make you as comfortable as possible until we reach Aruba,’ he told her. He interlocked his strong arm with hers and walked her back to the suite. ‘We have everything you need. And more,’ he said. . Amara actually thought that HE--a Sandavan male--would worship the dancer's ass? He raged again only to fall deeper into weakness. The music stopped and so did the dancer."Just watch. Just watch Shadi," Amara said.Shadi? SHADI!?"Why did you call me that name," he asked, his insides shaking with fear."Because you are Shadi, son of the High Judge." How . . . How . . . No I'm not!" Oh but you are. For now, if you expect to have your life back or any part of it, you will watch our dancer. Do you understand?" Then . . .. then you will let me go?" Yes." How long do I watch?" Until the end of the song. About four minutes. Surely you can survive that."Four minutes? Hell, of course he could. He was strong. Four minutes to trade for a lifetime of freedom was more than enough motivation."If you don't struggle much and if you watch very well, you will be free to go."Amara clicked her fingers and the music began and the dancer began to dance. It seemed slower and more suggestive this time. .
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