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Marcus bit back a curse as he poured himself a cup. Daddy? Aw, bloody hell. The only person she could be talking about was Trevor Ross, which meant that the naked woman sitting behind him—the one he’d been drooling over—was his future business partner’s daughter, Eden Ross.
Pictures of her as a little girl hung in the master cabin. But the rest of the world knew her from her tabloid exploits. She looked different in person, without the clothes and makeup and celebrity hair. Her skin was smooth and flawless, with a tiny sprinkling of freckles across her upturned nose, and her hair was a much darker blonde when it was wet. She looked almost wholesome. No, this was not the same girl who jetted around Europe, dated princes and attended Paris fashion shows.
“You’re Eden,” he said flatly.
“And you are?”
He turned and faced her, leaning back against the edge of the counter. “The new barnacle.”
She giggled at the answer, and to Marcus’s surprise, the sound sent a rush of heat through his bloodstream. “So I should call you Barney?” she asked, holding out her hand.
He wanted to touch her. At that moment it seemed like the most important thing in the world. He took the offered greeting, grasping her fingers in his, and Marcus instantly wondered how those delicate fingers would feel wrapped around him, stroking him.
He swallowed hard. “Marcus. Marcus Quinn. I’m…” He scrambled for the words. Fighting off a serious case of lust…fantasizing about dragging you to my bed…wanting to know if you taste as good as you look. “Working for your dad,” he finished, quickly dropping her hand.
He took a quick sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his cup. Was he expected to carry on a conversation with her? She didn’t seem to be at all interested in getting dressed. The polite thing to do was to keep his gaze fixed on her face. He risked another glance at her breasts. Easier said than done.
“Doing what?” she asked.
“Your father hired me to do some wood carvings for the boat. I’m working on a new figurehead for the bowsprit and a piece for the wall in the dining area. And I’m carving some corbels for the lounge area and adding some ornamentation over the bed in the master suite.”
“Well, well,” she said, jumping down from the counter, “sounds like you’re going to be a very busy man.” She stepped toward him and lightly skimmed her palm down his chest, stopping when she reached his belly. Marcus held his breath and she sent him a provocative grin. “I’ll try to stay out of your way. It’ll be nice to have some company on board. Don’t work too hard, Barney.”
“It’s Marcus. And you can’t stay,” he protested. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on work with Eden Ross prancing around the deck naked? There was just so much a guy could take, and in ten short minutes he’d already reached his limit. All he could think about was finding a way to ease his sexual frustration. “Your father said I’d have the boat to myself. I can’t work if you’re here.”
“Why is that?”
Was she that dense or was she simply toying with him? He’d already managed to lapse into a few brief and inappropriate fantasies. Given more time, Marcus knew what his imagination would provide—full-blown erotic daydreams that would only be erased by prolonged physical contact with a beautiful woman, like Eden Ross. From the moment he’d stumbled upon her, all he’d been able to think about was how long he’d have to wait to touch her. No, there was no way she could stay! “You just can’t,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t care what you want. This is my father’s boat and I’ll stay as long as I like. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with your boss.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared down the companionway to the master suite in the aft section of the boat.
Marcus stuck his head out of the galley just in time to see her slam the door. “Oh, hell.” This was trouble just waiting to happen. Eden Ross had a reputation that was known worldwide—she was a man-eater, a woman who took what she wanted from a guy then left him a quivering mass of disappointment and regret. And if she started nibbling on him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to defend himself.
A month didn’t go by without a scandalous photo or article in the tabloids or a report on one of those Hollywood news shows. Eden went through men as if they were trendy fashion accessories, something pretty to keep on her arm and enjoy for the moment, then to toss aside once she found another boy who pleased her more.
Marcus shook his head and headed back to his cabin. So she’d hang around for the weekend. A woman like Eden would grow bored with the solitude and be off to more exciting places before she could even unpack. “Two days,” he said. “I’ll give her two days and then she’s got to go. If she doesn’t, I’ll just toss her overboard.”
Marcus chuckled softly. He wouldn’t get a whole lot of work done in the next forty-eight hours, but that really didn’t matter. If entertaining the boss’s pain-in-the-ass daughter was part of the job, then he’d do his best—short of sleeping with her and breaking the deal he’d made with his brothers.
But in such close quarters, there was no telling what might transpire. If his desire did eventually overwhelm his common sense, at least he’d have a decent tale to tell his brothers about the sexy little socialite he’d reeled in, then tossed back. And considering Eden Ross’s reputation, she might be worth a two-thousand-dollar roll in the hay.
“HEY, BARNEY.”
Eden stretched out on her towel, craning her neck around the mast and trying to catch a glimpse of Marcus Quinn. He’d been working on the bowsprit nearly all morning, dangling over the rail on a bosun’s chair, dressed only in a pair of faded surfer shorts and boat shoes.
He’d been up early, leaving her a fresh pot of coffee and glazed donuts from the local Krispy Kreme. Eden wanted to believe he’d made a thoughtful gesture, but after a surly exchange with him over her preferences for lunch, she knew he’d merely been following orders.
Frustrated, she’d gobbled up three of the donuts and washed them down with a mug of black coffee. Why was she allowing him to bother her so? He didn’t care for her, and that was fine. After all, he wasn’t that attractive, and she’d sworn off men for at least the next month or two. But that didn’t seem to stop her from wanting him. He was like…like the Mount Everest of men. She had to climb him simply because he was there—and because if his naked body and considerable assets were any indication, he’d be one incredible mountain to climb.
She watched him as he crawled back over the rail and retrieved one of the tools spread on the deck.
“Hey, Barney!”
A tiny sliver of satisfaction shot through her as he dropped the tool he was holding and strolled along the rail to the spot where she was sunbathing. “The name’s not Barney. Unless you’d like me to call you—what?—how about Princess?”
“I like that,” Eden teased, sending him her sexiest smile. “Your Highness would be even better, though.” She picked up her bottle of suntan lotion and held it out. “Do my back?”
Marcus shook his head. “No. I’ll make you coffee, I’ll fetch your damn baggage, but I’m not going to be your personal slave.”
“Please?” She watched his face flush and found the notion of his embarrassment completely charming. Most of the men she knew wouldn’t think twice about agreeing to her request. “Are you shy?”
“No,” he said.
“It’s just lotion,” she said. “And I won’t bite.”
He hesitated, cursing softly, then snatched the bottle from her fingers. Eden rolled over on her stomach and stretched out on the towel, resting her chin on her hand. She closed her eyes and waited for his touch, the anticipation making her heart beat a little faster.
A moment later his palms smoothed across her back. Eden bit back a contented sigh. She had enjoyed her share of men, though she’d slept with far fewer than the press had reported. But Marcus was different. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her on board and done his best to ignore her. And even though she sensed an attraction between them, he’d done absolutely nothing to act upon it. She’d never known a man to be able to maintain such restraint. “You aren’t gay, are you?” she asked.
His hands stilled. “What?”
Eden looked over her shoulder. “Gay. Usually I can tell, but—”
“You think because I haven’t tried to seduce you that I prefer men?”
“Do you?” she asked. “Because there’s nothing wrong with that. Or maybe you go both ways? You can be completely honest with me.”
He cleared his throat, then continued to rub the lotion onto her back. “No, I prefer women. I’m just not sure I’d be able to handle a woman like you.”
“Like me?”
“I’m afraid I might suffer by comparison,” Marcus said.
His words cut her to the quick. In an instant, Eden knew exactly what he thought of her, how he’d already pegged her as a silly socialite with a penchant for ill-advised sexual escapades. Maybe he was right. In fact, before long, the whole world would be thinking that very same thing and have the proof of it to boot.
But her real life, the one that she lived for most of the hours of the day, was nothing like the life portrayed in the press. She wasn’t a raging nymphomaniac and she didn’t engage in wild orgies and she’d only danced topless once at a nightclub, and only because she’d drunk too much champagne. “I haven’t really been with that many men,” she admitted.
Marcus chuckled. “Why do I find that so hard to believe?”
She felt her temper rise. “Because, like the rest of the idiots in this world, you think everything you read in the tabloids is true. They use me to sell papers, to make money. They don’t care if what they write is a big lie as long as people want to read it.”
“And you give them plenty of excuses to write about you,” he said.
“You sound like my father,” she muttered, her voice cold and dismissive.
“Funny, I don’t think your father would approve of what I’m doing right now. Or how you’re enjoying it.” He reached up and ran his hands along her shoulders, then came back to the center of her back. He paused to put more lotion on his hands, then began to move lower.
Eden’s anger slowly dissolved and she held her breath, losing herself in his touch. Marcus Quinn had very strong and sensuous hands, inflaming her desire. He also had the strange talent of provoking her ire at the very same time.
His fingers slipped beneath the strap of her thong as he began to massage lotion onto her backside. When his hand slipped between her legs, she fought the temptation to turn over and pull him down on top of her. Why couldn’t he just kiss her and be done with it? Why did he insist on taunting her like this?
“That’s fine,” she murmured.
“You don’t want me to do your other—”
“No. Thanks. You—you can go now.”
“Great,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Princess?”
“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I can survive on donuts and coffee. Unless we tie up at the dock, the market in town won’t deliver. If you could pick up some fresh fruit for me—some melon, kiwi, papaya, some really good grapes—I’d appreciate it. Make sure it’s all organic, though. And there’s a really good fish market in town. I don’t care what you get as long as you cook it properly. The housekeeper has accounts at all the shops in town. Just charge whatever you buy.”
He stood up beside her, casting a shadow over her body. For a long time he didn’t move, and she wondered what he was thinking. In truth, he was probably thinking about turning her into shark bait. But if he persisted in provoking her, then she had no choice but to stand up for herself. “That’s all,” Eden said. “You can go now. I’ll call you if I need you again, Barney.”
A few seconds later she heard his footsteps on the deck. Eden couldn’t help but watch his retreat, curious to see whether he bothered to look back. All of this wouldn’t be half as frustrating if Marcus Quinn wasn’t so damn gorgeous.
Was it the dark hair or the deep blue eyes that she liked so much? Or was it the crooked smile that he so rarely used? He couldn’t be called charming or even friendly. But he possessed an undeniable masculinity, a way of commanding her attention that made him irresistible.
Perhaps she shouldn’t test him so, but sooner or later, he’d have to waver. Eden sighed. She was accustomed to getting what she wanted. But this time she didn’t really know what that was. Did she simply need Marcus to acknowledge the attraction, to make her feel better about herself? Or was she looking for something to distract her from the troubles looming just over the horizon?
Eden had often tried to understand her warped view of relationships. She suspected it had to do with her parents’ divorce when she was seven. It had been called the divorce of the decade, acrimonious at best, downright vicious at its worst. She’d been used as a pawn in a settlement and custody fight between her grasping mother and her controlling father. When the courts had finally put an end to the fight, Eden had realized neither one of her parents really wanted her. All they had cared about was winning.
So she’d spent the school year in Malibu with her mother and summers in Newport with her father. She rarely saw Trevor Ross, but he made up for his absences by indulging her every whim. At first, she cared nothing for his gifts, preferring his company instead. But after a time, Eden realized that the only thing she would ever have of her father was what he bought for her.
Her problems with her father extended to other men. After five or six years of dating, she knew her chances at ever making a normal relationship work were slim at best. She’d never been able to trust a man enough to let him inside her life…or inside her heart. For a long time, that hadn’t made a difference. But lately she’d wanted to believe she could have a grand romance, an affair that would last longer than a few months.
There had to be something more to life than what she’d experienced so far. Something deeper, something real. And though hiding out on her father’s yacht might provide the solitude she needed to sort out her life, playing games with Marcus Quinn wasn’t the best use of her time.
“Just let the man do his job,” she murmured. “And stay out of his way.” She repeated the words again, but she still couldn’t convince herself. Every time he was near, she felt compelled to look, to say something that might provoke him into conversation. And if she thought the suntan-lotion ploy would satisfy her desire for his touch, Eden was fooling herself.
Maybe he was right. Maybe it would be best for both of them if she just packed her bags and left. Eden took a deep breath and shook her head. No, she’d stay. But she’d try her best to get along with Marcus, to make him see that, at heart, she really was a good girl.
2
MARCUS sat in the cockpit of the boat, the canvas sunshade stretched across the boom providing a welcome relief from the midafternoon heat. He stared down at a sketch he’d been working on for the past hour, then tossed the sketchbook aside. It was no use. Since Eden Ross had come on board two days ago, his thoughts had been occupied with everything but work.
Every time he tried to concentrate, he’d find his mind drifting, conjuring up crazy scenarios that always seemed to end with the two of them naked and in each other’s arms. It was obvious she wouldn’t object to his advances. He wasn’t always an expert at reading women, but Eden was like an open book—a book with really big print for those with bad eyesight. She wanted him—probably a helluva lot more than he wanted her. So why not take advantage?
With any other woman, he might not think twice. But Eden Ross was seriously out of his league. With her, it would be all about sex and nothing more. For him, it would be about badly needed relief. And though Marcus had always been a believer in no-strings sex, he was nearly twenty-seven, too damn old to feel good about it anymore. There had to be more to life than just finding physical gratification in a stranger’s bed.
There were also two other huge impediments to a sexual liaison with Eden Ross. Her father—a potential business investor he couldn’t afford to lose—and his brothers. Two thousand dollars was a lot of cash. But it wasn’t just the money that kept Marcus from following his instincts. His pride was at stake. As the youngest, he’d always been on the losing end of most of the challenges between the three. This was one he could actually win.
“I’m going for a swim,” Eden said.
He glanced up, shading his eyes against the sun. She stood on the deck above the cockpit, a towel draped around her neck, her hair tucked up beneath her wide-brimmed sun hat. He watched as she walked past him, the towel slipping from its place as she moved, offering a tempting view of her breasts.
They’d managed to avoid each other for nearly an entire day, and Marcus considered that a small victory. Eden had graciously stayed out of his way and spent her time sunning on the opposite end of the boat from where he was working. Last night she’d turned in early and this morning she had slept late. They’d managed a polite “hello” at lunchtime and nothing more.
“Would you like to join me?” she asked, turning back to face him. She tossed her hat aside, and her pale hair tumbled down around her shoulders.
Hell, he’d love nothing more than to strip off his clothes and jump into the water with her. His mind quickly summoned an image of him swimming up behind her and pulling her naked body against his, their limbs tangling together as they played in the clear water. “I think I’ll pass,” he muttered.
“Suit yourself.”
A few seconds later he heard a splash and then a tiny scream. Marcus scrambled out of the cockpit to the stern and stared down into the water. She broke the surface and then frowned when she saw him watching her. “Are you all right?”
Eden nodded, droplets of water glittering on the tips of her eyelashes. “It was just colder than I expected.”
Marcus leaned over the rail and watched her swim away from the boat and back again. She’d discarded the thong she’d been wearing earlier, preferring complete nudity while in the water. He was almost growing accustomed to seeing her naked, although he would never become immune to the effect it had on his body. Even now, he felt himself growing hard as he imagined their naked bodies pressed against each other.
“Come in,” she said. “The water is wonderful.”
“I should be working,” Marcus replied.
“It’s almost five. My father can’t expect you to work twenty-four hours a day.”
“It’s two-thirty,” Marcus countered. “That’s not almost five.”
“You need a new watch,” Eden said with a grin. She flipped over on her back and kicked away from him. “Besides, I’m not a very strong swimmer and I’d feel better if you were in the water with me. For safety’s sake.”
Marcus laughed out loud at the absurdity of her request. Yes, Eden Ross was spoiled and manipulative. But she didn’t try to hide it. In fact, she seemed to delight in her flaws. Maybe he ought to answer her playful challenge—just once.
“Cover your eyes,” he said.
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m not getting in the water unless you cover your eyes.”
“Aren’t you a prude?” Eden teased. “I’ve seen it all before and it wasn’t that impressive.”
True, Marcus mused, there were no secrets between them. But from the moment she’d jumped in, he’d fought the warm rush of desire that had raced through his bloodstream and pooled in his lap. Now the result of that desire was pressing hard against the front of his shorts. Did he really want Eden to know the power she held over him? “Turn around and cover your eyes or I don’t come in the water.”
Eden groaned, then did as she was told.
But Marcus didn’t bother to strip off his shorts. He jumped off the side of the boat, slipping into the water with barely a sound. He swam beneath the surface, his eyes open, searching for Eden. When he came up, he was right behind her. “You can open your eyes now,” he said.
She spun around and splashed water in his face. Marcus grabbed her waist and pulled her under, dragging her down beneath the surface before letting her go. When she came up for air, she spit a mouthful of water in his face, then easily swam away from him.
“I don’t think you’re in any danger of drowning,” he said.
“I just ate a donut. I could get a cramp. Or a shark could attack me. Or I could accidentally swallow water and begin to sink.” With that, she twirled around in the water, slowly sinking until she disappeared. A few moments later she popped up a few yards away.
“That was a pretty slick move,” he said.
“Synchronized swimming. My mother made me take lessons. I took all sorts of lessons. Ballet, gymnastics, piano, painting, violin, ballroom dancing, horseback riding. There are more—I just can’t remember them all.”
“You must be quite accomplished.”
She shrugged, brushing the damp hair out of her eyes. “I was never really good at any of them. The lessons were just an excuse so my mother didn’t have to spend time with me. She had other things to do and I just got in the way.”
