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“I’ll talk to my boss about the time off. If I’m able, I’ll be ready at 7:00 a.m. Monday.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Mr.—Joe. I promise you’re going to have a wonderful week in the Caribbean.”
Joe clicked off, ignored his buddies’ questions and stalked toward the chief’s office. A wonderful week? He seriously doubted that.
* * *
CARLY STOOD FUMING in Miami’s cruise terminal, slapping her clipboard against her linen skirt-covered thigh. For five long years she’d slaved away as a seamstress in the garment district learning everything she could about the fashion industry. Her interactive blog had only allowed her to quit her day job just last year. It was doing well, but this was her shot to hit the big time.
And the supermodel was late.
Unfortunately, she’d sent the same limo this morning to pick up her Average Joe. She’d had to scramble at the last minute to book them the next flight to Miami and hope they made that one. Then arrange for the Florida limo to return for them once they reached Miami International Airport.
After arriving at the cruise terminal, Carly had successfully directed the photographer and his crew, the hair and makeup teams, the Modiste liaison and the clothing handlers from the major department stores on Fifth Avenue onto the ship. All of the top stores had agreed, thanks to the editor at Modiste, to lend couture for the shoots. But the clothes would do no good if the ship took off without her models.
She pulled her cell out and called the limo service one more time. They’d already contacted the driver once and confirmed the limo was waiting for the plane to land. Piper—the supermodel with one name, had kept the limo waiting to take her to JFK airport for over three hours. She’d barely made the following flight out.
And if they didn’t get to the cruise terminal in the next thirty minutes, the ship would sail without them.
“Ms. Pendleton, the driver reported he’s five blocks from the pier.”
“Thank you!” She touched End Call on her screen, stuck her phone back in her jacket pocket, and ran as fast as her Louboutins would carry her to the terminal entrance.
Within a few minutes she saw the limo pull up and the driver get out and open the back door. Out stepped the most exotically beautiful woman Carly had ever seen. Straight black hair fell to her waist and her soft caramel complexion showed off luminous light green eyes that looked around her with distaste. The woman carried an enormous handbag and a tiny yappy dog.
Beside her was a shorter woman holding a diamond-studded leash. Piper’s assistant. Carly had spoken with her on the phone. She had the same exotic features as Piper. Beautiful, even with the left side of her face marred by a long, jagged scar.
When the assistant turned her left side away, Carly could’ve kicked herself for staring, and searched behind the two women for her Average Joe.
Where was he?
The driver was at the trunk unloading six, no, seven pieces of designer luggage. And helping him while they talked as if they’d been good friends for years was her contest winner.
Her breath caught as Joe smiled at something the driver said. Carly usually detested the scruffy, unshaved look that was popular right now, wishing she could take a razor to their jaw. But on her Average Joe, it worked, befitting his blue-collar status and accenting his white teeth.
“Hello?” The supermodel snapped her fingers in front of Carly’s face.
Annoyed at herself, Carly stepped forward and extended her right hand. “Piper, so nice to meet you.” The dog snapped at her fingers and Carly jerked her hand back just in time to prevent getting bit. The dog’s high-pitched yapping made her ears ring.
“Oh, poor Pootsie! You’ve upset him.” Piper’s low, smoky voice still managed to sound whiny, even with the British accent.
Carly bit the inside of her cheek and directed porters to rush the baggage to the ship and tipped them extra to make sure it got to the correct cabin.
Piper was still comforting her dog in a pouty baby language.
“I’m sorry. But if we don’t hurry, we won’t make it onto the ship.” Carly gestured toward the customs desk.
“Oh, but I have to say goodbye to my little Pootsie darling.” She held the dog up and nuzzled her face into the dog’s neck. “Bye-bye, baby,” she crooned. “Mommy has to go now. These mean ol’ cruise people won’t let me bring you. I’m going to miss you, yes I am.” She smooched on the dog a couple more times, and hugged it to her breasts.
“I’m sorry, Piper, but they still need to check your passport, and if we don’t hurry the ship will sail without us.”
The tall, slim model gave a disgusted huff, gently handed the yapping dog to the assistant and stalked away.
With a barely aborted eye roll, Carly turned to greet her Average Joe. She blinked at the impossibly sculpted chest and massive biceps outlined by a tight black T-shirt. Average? There was nothing average about this man. His entry photo should’ve prepared her. But a five-by-seven glossy was no match for the living, breathing man in front of her.
In her stocking feet she was five-nine. With her heels, she reached six feet. And she still had to look up to meet his gaze. Warm brown eyes and shaggy black hair and that scruffy beard. She detested facial hair on a man. But standing this close to all that heat and muscle brought out something in her so raw, so primal that she had to catch her breath.
He cleared his throat and hefted a duffel bag higher on his broad shoulder. “Hiya.”
“Mr. Te—Joe, I’m Carly Pendleton.” She offered her right hand and he grabbed it hard, as if he didn’t realize his own strength. “We spoke on the phone Saturday.”
He nodded, stilled, and frowned. “Pendleton?”
“Yes.” Resentment smoldered in her veins as it always did at this point in an introduction. “I’m his daughter. Does it matter?”
Holding on to her hand, his gaze scanned her body—down her legs and back up to meet her eyes. Then he flashed white teeth in a salacious smile. “Not a bit.”
The smile hit her like a gale-force wind. His palm was rough and hot. Yes, she’d been right about the heat.
Pushing away the thought, she dropped her hand and stepped back, half turning away from him. “If you’ll follow Piper to the customs desk, please?” She gestured toward the uniformed guards and the metal detector.
“Yes, ma’am.” As he moved past her, a subtle scent wafted by. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Mmm. She had a nose for colognes and his was not by any designer she recognized. The fragrance was something old-fashioned. Uniquely masculine. And incredibly attractive.
“You all right?”
Joe’s deep rumble startled her. Carly opened her eyes and met his gaze. He stared at her, the intensity in his dark brown eyes making her flinch. Her face warmed. Her throat tightened.
Great. Did she have no control over her body? She pasted on a smile and nodded. “Just dandy.” She brought her clipboard up and pretended to scrutinize page after page until Average Joe stepped up to hand his passport to the customs agent.
Dandy? She could kick herself. She’d graduated summa cum laude, for Pete’s sake. And all she could come up with was dandy? Geez. This was going to be a long five days.
2 (#ulink_2b358630-c301-5fe2-a1ff-d8b2838372a8)
“STOP RIGHT THERE.” Joe grabbed the wrist of the man trying to smear something on his eye.
The guy’s lips flattened. He shoved his free hand on his hip, threw his head back and called out, “Ms. Pendleton!” in a high voice.
Joe searched the crowded suite for his nemesis. The place was a circus this morning. Though he had to admit, the accommodations were nice. This suite was a mirror image of his.
Last night he’d slept better than he expected. The shower head was too low, but that was par for him. The king-size bed had been comfortable, there was a sofa and a table with seating for two and the cabin even had a balcony.
But he’d barely gotten himself a cup of coffee this morning before someone had knocked on his door to escort him here. He’d been dragged to a chair in front of a lighted mirror and a woman started trying to cut his hair.
There had to be at least a dozen people in this cabin. Still, he easily found Carly Pendleton. She was the type to stand out in a crowd. Tall and slim, but she had curves in all the right places. Her skirt and blouse hugged her figure as if they’d been made for her. Which, come to think of it, they probably had. And her long, thick brunette hair had not a strand out of place, even at seven in the morning.
But her best feature was her eyes. They were the color of arctic ice. A light blue so vivid they could capture a man’s gaze and freeze him where he stood, make him her prisoner until she deigned to set him free.
He shivered just thinking about being trapped in her frigid world. A man could get frostbite.
At the call of her name, Ms. Pendleton glanced over at the makeup guy, took another moment to nod and shake her head at a selection of clothing a woman held, and then walked over.
Just watching her walk riveted Joe’s attention. The way she held her shoulders back and her chin slightly lifted, as if she was noble-born. She’d probably attended one of those fancy boarding schools. Surely, her father would’ve been able to afford it.
The only thing he remembered about her father’s investment scandal was that his wife had claimed complete innocence of his scheme. The fact that the crook had a kid had barely registered.
“What is it, Christoph?”
“The gentleman won’t let me apply liner to his eyes.”
She trained those icy blues on him. “Joe, I realize it seems emasculating, but the sunlight and the camera will wash out your eyes without a little liner. Surely you’re confident enough in your masculinity to allow a tiny bit of makeup?”
Oh, well, if she was going to challenge his masculinity... He folded his arms. “No.”
Irritation sparked in her eyes. Hmm, the ice queen heated up. This could be fun.
She straightened her shoulders and folded her arms, too. His attention fixed on the outline of her lace bra through her thin silk blouse.
“Mr. Tedesco.”
He imagined her only in delicate lacy lingerie, some sheer stockings and those ridiculously high heels of hers. Barely cutting off a groan, he scanned the room for a pitcher of water. His throat was dry.
“Mr. Tedesco? I already have one diva to deal with and she hasn’t even deigned to show up yet.” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Joe! Are you listening?”
“What?” He pulled his mind back from the beginnings of a sensual daydream. Noticed the bottle of water on the table beside him and grabbed it.
“I was saying that the liner won’t be at all noticeable in the final version of the photo.”
He twisted the cap off, gulped a few swallows and dried his lips on his sleeve. “In that case...” He leaned forward and she leaned in, too. “It’s still no.”
She jerked back, her eyes flared, anger spitting. Her perfectly shaped lips pinched. Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply. Then her face relaxed and she gave him a saccharine sweet smile. “Fine. We wouldn’t want your Man Card revoked, now would we?” She trained her eyes on the makeup guy. “Christoph, just a light dusting of powder on the nose so he doesn’t shine like Rudolph.”
Her gaze zapped back to Joe. “Unless you’re too manly for that?”
He grinned. “That’s fine.” No woman had ever talked to him this way before. Was this how all Manhattan women were? He’d lived in Brooklyn all his life, and the only women he hung around had known him since elementary school. To them he was Little Joey, the high school football hero.
“Thank you so much. Is there anything else I should obtain your permission on before I resume directing my photo shoot?”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”
Her fake smile disappeared. “Tony,” she called to a young man fiddling with some photo equipment. “Make sure the lighting on our Average Joe is filtered so he doesn’t wash out.” Then she spun on her heels and stalked back to the other side of the room.
She had the temper of a back-alley dog. And he had a feeling her bite was worse than her bark.
* * *
“NO, THAT’S NOT WORKING.” Carly heaved a sigh and shook her head. Honestly, she didn’t know which one was worse, the high maintenance supermodel or the infuriatingly bullheaded contest winner. It didn’t help that her stomach was churning and her head felt as if someone had jammed an ice pick in her temples. Didn’t everyone else feel the ship listing from side to side?
She steeled herself to approach the couple. Piper must be handled with kid gloves. And Joe, well, Carly had to fight to keep her mind on business when she went near the guy.
“Piper, you’re looking just gorgeous with the turquoise water behind you. Really brings out your eyes.” They’d positioned the deck chairs against the railing and the Caribbean Sea sparkled in the warm sun. There was a tang of salt in the humid air. Humph. Carly would take New York cab exhaust any day.
Piper merely rolled said eyes. “You need to hurry this up. I’m tired and bored. And thirsty. Someone bring me a Bloody Mary.”
Carly clenched her teeth and bit back what she wanted to say. “Yes, I’ll get that ordered right away, but if I could just ask you to try to look more interested in Joe, for just a few moments?”
Piper raised a delicate brow that got lost in the fringe of her bangs. “I am.”
“Yes, well, maybe a little more, please? And Joe.” Carly focused her attention on his right shoulder. “When you’re turned facing Piper in the deck chair, just turn from your waist, not your legs. Leave your legs facing forward please.”
“Like this?” The man spread his knees and, whether intentionally or not, he seemed to flex his thigh muscles.
Now she was staring and Carly felt her face heat. She spun away, pretending to check the position of the sun.
When she could face him once more, she studied his shoulder again. “Yes, but you have to be turned toward Piper from the waist up.” She cupped his shoulders to swivel his upper body. Her hands met rigid muscle beneath the starched cotton dress shirt. Heat radiated from him, scorching her palms. And there was that scent again. His cologne or shampoo, whatever it was made her knees weak. Or maybe that was just part of the seasickness.
“Not that I care, but you’re wrinkling the Armani here,” Joe said in a low tone.
Carly blinked, saw that her hands were gripping his arms, lifted them off and stepped away. “It’s Hilfiger,” she mumbled.
One side of his mouth crooked up in a smirk. But he laid his arm along the back of Piper’s deck chair and turned from the waist exactly as Carly had asked.
Impressed, she headed for the camera to check the frame and, as she looked through the lens, Joe lifted his other hand to cup Piper’s cheek and turn her to face him. He said something and flashed that dazzling smile and Piper actually smiled back.
Carly straightened and motioned for the photographer to step in and snap the picture. What had Joe said to Piper? As the camera snapped away, he spoke to the model again and her expression turned sultry, her eyes half-lidded. She stared at Joe as if she were about to rip his clothes off. Unbelievable.
Carly gaped as the two models spoke in whispered tones, their heads moving toward each other, their lips almost touching. The cameraman clicked pictures from every angle, encouraging them. Piper unbuttoned Joe’s shirt and slipped a hand inside, rubbing her fingers over his chest. Then her hand dropped to his thigh, over his denim shorts, but inching her way to—
“That’s great!” Carly yelled. “Thank you, everyone.” She moved forward to stand before Piper, who’d, thankfully, removed her hand from Joe’s thigh, even if she did radiate annoyance.
Too bad. Carly’s headache had worsened and she wasn’t in the mood to indulge the diva. She bent from the waist to scrutinize Piper’s face. “We’re done for today, but be sure to get a good night’s sleep. We have an early morning shoot and there’s only so much makeup can do for dark circles.”
Piper gasped, and then narrowed those light green eyes to glare at Carly. “If I have dark circles it’s because the cabin you put me in is deplorable! I can’t sleep there. You’ll have to find me something larger. On a higher deck. And while you’re at it—”
“I’m afraid there are no other rooms larger than what you have.” Carly clenched her fists around her clipboard. “I can look into seeing if there are any cabins available on a higher deck, but—”
“Then do it!” The prima donna pushed up out of the deck chair and stomped off in a high-heeled huff.
Joe got to his feet. A smitten half grin quirked his lips as he watched Piper walk away, her pert little butt perfectly displayed in the white designer short-shorts. Of course Joe would be attracted to Ms. Exotic.
Carly spun to face her lighting and camera crew. “Tomorrow we dock in Grand Turk at 7:00 a.m. Be ready to disembark at 6:45. I’ve reserved a chartered plane and want to head to the Caicos Islands. Take whatever special equipment you might need for shooting outdoors, and inside a cave. We have to be back on the ship by 7:00 p.m., and Thursday we disembark at Half Moon Cay. I want shots on the white sandy beaches there, Friday we’ll only shoot for a few hours in Nassau. It’s all on your itinerary I handed out yesterday after the safety drill. Any questions?”
In the silence of shaking heads she turned back around and saw Joe was fingering a tiny slip of paper. Was that Piper’s room number? Was he going to meet her there tonight? Or...had they slept together already?
Ignoring the sharp pinch in her stomach, she gave her attention to the crew disassembling the photo equipment. But she felt Joe’s presence behind her. She turned to face him. “My recommendation pertains to you, too, Mr. Tedesco.”
“Recommendation?” His grin had disappeared and his brows rose. His chest exposed by the unbuttoned shirt was taut and tanned with a light dusting of hair.
Carly diverted her gaze to his face. “Yes. To get a good night’s sleep. I can’t have my Sexiest Average Joe showing up tomorrow looking haggard and unkempt.”
