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A bark of drunken laughter drifting up the stairwell from the deck below forced her to pull back. To think. Not easy to do anymore when every breath she took contained a hint of his woodsy scent. His minty breath. His male heat.
“I might not be able to kiss you again without getting carried away.” His whispered words loomed close to her ear and something about a male voice cutting through the utter darkness made her crave a man—him—all the more.
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” She shivered as his thumb smoothed over the small of her back. Hadn’t she always prided herself on speaking her mind? Being blunt and direct was her forte and she’d be a hypocrite to deny she wanted to take this further so badly her whole body hummed in anticipation.
The group of late night revelers didn’t stay on the top deck for long since there were no lights to illuminate the Jupiter level and the only features were the running track, some shuffleboards and a great view. Rita knew the area was most popular with early risers, part of the reason she’d steered Harrison this way after drinks.
“I don’t want to spoil a night that’s been—” He looked out to sea for a long moment, as if his answer might be in the dark waves below. “Damn, Rita, it’s been perfect.”
“Trust me, I’m very practical, and getting carried away is the right thing to do.” Taking a deep breath, she reached out to him through the darkness. Sliding her arms around his neck she plastered herself against him. Lips, breasts, hips—every part of her sought him out to cop a feel.
She threaded her fingers through his close-cropped hair, savoring the spiky strands as she drew him close. Her breasts molded to his hard male chest, tongue tangling with his as easily as if they were long-lost lovers.
Only she didn’t have lovers. Long-lost or any other kind. She only had relationships with nice men. Nice, foolish men who didn’t realize she was content to be committed to her career and her sister since it was easier than being tied to a guy with normal dating expectations. Marriage. Picket fences. Family that didn’t include Jayne and Margie and all their combined problems.
But Harrison wasn’t a regular guy. He was fantasy material. A vacation fling. Maybe tonight she could let loose and simply enjoy the moment. And it’s not like she had to worry about setting a bad example for Jayne since Jayne wasn’t around.
Not that Jayne had ever paid attention to what kind of example Rita set, damn it all.
“What if we take this back to your place?” Rita walked her fingers down his scalp to the back of his neck, slipping just under his shirt collar. “Would that be okay?”
A low groan rumbled in his throat. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”
She smiled against his mouth, her thigh grazing the proof of his happiness. “I have a fair idea.”
She didn’t know how long it had been since her previous sexual encounter. Her last relationship had ended…almost two years ago? No wonder she was unraveling in this man’s arms faster than a spool of thread in a sewing machine.
Although that didn’t explain why him. Or why now. Questions she didn’t want to answer while her blood simmered through her veins, her skin tingling with a combination of hot flashes and sensual shivers everywhere he touched. Good God, how had she ignored her own needs for so long?
“If we do this, there are no regrets, right?” Harrison halted his kiss to cup her face between strong hands. “I’m not going to mess things up with you just because I want you. Badly.”
Her pulse fluttered at his words, the notion soothing some insecure part of her that had always lived in Jayne’s sultry, uninhibited shadow.
Despite her lifelong attempt to be the logical sister, tonight she had every intention of being a bad girl.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_d7ded50f-dcc7-5d47-b11b-6156b26f758b)
DECISION MADE, RITA tugged Harrison toward the stairs, hormones kicking up a conga line more enthusiastic than the one they’d watch snake through the pool area two decks down. His kisses had aroused all her senses, tuning her into his every movement, his every breath.
They took the stairs together, striding more quickly now than their leisurely stroll around the running track earlier. But then, they had a very definite, a very delectable goal in mind.
Turning the corner at the end of one flight of stairs, they needed to enter one of the restaurant areas to find the next flight down. But before they re-entered the closed part of the ship, Rita’s heightened senses heard a noise along the rail. A muffled cry?
“Did you hear something?” Harrison stopped short as Rita bumped into him, his suit jacket framing a set of abs any woman would drool over.
“Yes.” She strained her ears to listen while she forced her eyes to look away from rippling male muscles.
“It sounded like a whimper or a sniffle.”
At the mention of a whimper, Rita was immediately plagued with a vision of her sister returning to the boat, crying in the hallway, forsaken and forgotten by her no account boyfriend. Even as she dismissed the idea as impossible in the middle of the ocean, Rita heard a distinctively feminine sob from underneath the stairwell.
The crying female on the other side of the wall wasn’t Jayne. Even in the vacated dimness of the stairwell, Rita could see the tall blonde perched at the rail, her head buried against a pink duffel bag.
Missy.
Hurrying over, she could hear Harrison’s steps following more slowly behind her.
“You okay, Missy?” She reached to touch her friend’s shoulder, instantly on alert even though a part of her still longed to be heading back to Harrison’s room. “What’s wrong?”
Lifting her head to reveal red-rimmed eyes and traces of tearstained stage makeup, Missy shook her head in sniffly despair. She swiped a hand across her face when she noticed Rita wasn’t alone.
“I got fired.” Voice breaking on the last word, Missy fell into Rita’s arms to cry harder.
“Danielle did this? Damn her for a heartless—” Anger burned away the feel-good endorphins Rita had been savoring from Harrison’s kisses. She had the sinking feeling her night to be self-indulgent was rapidly going down the tubes, but how could she walk away from her friend?
“It’s okay.” Missy hiccupped as she swiped more tears away with the sleeve of her shirt. “I’ll find something when we get back home. Sammy—the somersaulter—said he knows some club owners around Fort Lauderdale, so maybe he can help. I just wish Danielle had let me earn out the rest of the week’s paycheck. I could have been at home playing with Annabelle if I wasn’t going to be making any money this week.”
Missy had an eight-month-old daughter back home who stayed with Missy’s mother while she worked. Rita knew they barely made ends meet since the baby’s father—an international crew member Missy had met on a Fort Lauderdale beach—had returned to his Eastern European home rather than help support his family. Missy had hoped the dancing gig on the ship would lead to something more stable. Gazing blankly around the darkened stretch of deck under the stairwell, Rita willed words of encouragement into her head. Too bad her eyes couldn’t move past the abandon-ship evacuation route placard on the wall over Missy’s head, which pointed passengers in the direction of the nearest lifeboat station. The whole ship seemed to be coming apart today.
“Could you go after them for wrongful termination?” Harrison straightened his tie while he seemed to size up the situation faster than Rita. “Some companies are willing to work with you if they’re afraid you’re going to cost them a lot of time and aggravation.”
Missy smiled through her tears as she acknowledged his presence. “I’m Missy, and I’m sorry to ruin your night.” She looked back and forth between Rita and Harrison. “But I wouldn’t ever try to cause anyone aggravation.”
Rita’s gaze met Harrison’s and she felt the heat crackle between them as they both remembered what they’d been about to share. Still, he seemed to understand her growing sense that things weren’t going to progress any further tonight.
“You didn’t ruin anything.” Rita slung her arm around her friend’s shoulders, knowing Jayne could be in the same situation tomorrow if Danielle had realized she’d skipped out on her performance tonight. Gesturing toward Harrison, she introduced him. “And this is Harrison Masters. A really nice guy, but he probably has no idea how little entertainers make for this cruise line or how much power the cruise industry wields.”
“I’m in the resort business, too, remember?” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to Missy, his mussed dark hair brushing his eyebrows in a way that would make any woman’s fingers itch to brush the strands aside. “And no matter how powerful the employer, the rules remain the same for their personnel practices. They can’t fire you without just cause.”
Rita wasn’t sure how sound his advice was about pursuing wrongful termination, but she appreciated his calm insights on the situation. In her family, getting fired would be a major drama involving days of histrionics. The whole family would have to weigh in with an opinion—always a vehement, fiery stance—and then they’d argue the merits of that person’s ideas until they were all hoarse. And if ever there was a cool voice of reason in the mix, it would invariably be Rita’s. So to have Harrison preempt her with such rational logic seemed sort of…deflating.
Which was utterly stupid. She should be grateful Jayne wasn’t around to start a public brawl with Danielle.
“What reason did Danielle give for letting you go?” Rita had never heard of a dancer getting the axe in the middle of a cruise week before. They still had two more shows and a handful of smaller responsibilities like helping the Karaoke King on Open Mike Night or posing for photos with passengers around the pool.
“She said I was late on my cue again tonight.” Missy speared her hand through her long hair, sweeping aside the mass of curls from her face. “I thought I’d done a pretty good job this time but Danielle hauled me aside as the show ended. She asked me a million questions about you and Jayne, then she dropped the bomb that I wouldn’t be returning to the show.”
Her face crumpled as a new round of sobs began.
“She asked about me?” Rita drummed her fingertips on the rail.
“This Danielle is in charge of the performers?” Harrison seemed to be following the conversation better than most outsiders would. For that matter, didn’t most guys bolt at the first sign of tears?
He seemed like a nice guy. A nice, smart guy, which was doubly rare in her experience.
“Yes. She runs the floor show with an iron fist and considers it her job to inspire fear in the hearts of all her dancers. I think she suffers from the delusion this makes them dance better.” Turning back to Missy, Rita needed to get back to an important point. “You said she was asking questions about me?”
“You and Jayne. I don’t think she realized that you covered for Jayne tonight but apparently your stage time ran over by a couple of seconds and that might have tipped her off. You know how she prides herself on running the whole thing by the clock.”
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
Rita had purposely exited the stage on the wrong side to avoid Danielle in case she hadn’t realized she’d taken Jayne’s place. But that opposite stage exit probably took a little longer after the music died, causing the smallest ripple in Danielle’s rigid time scheme.
“By the time she tracked down the problem, I was probably already—” Rita’s gaze went automatically to Harrison “—busy somewhere else. And her frustration with the show was my fault, not yours.”
“You don’t know that.” Missy shook her head in emphatic denial, sending curls flying. “Rita, I’ve messed up a ton of times, and she knows it.”
“But you didn’t mess up tonight.” Rita could just picture Danielle in one of her snits. The obsessive manager had looked for a target for her anger and found someone totally undeserving, someone who’d been working hard at her job while Rita was drooling over a total stranger. “I’ll make sure we straighten this mess out and if there’s a way to get your job back you’ll have it back or we’ll sic Jayne on her.”
Assuming Jayne came back onboard.
Her sister was going to have hell to pay for putting them all in this position. But until Jayne came back to fulfill the position of token Frazer woman gone off the deep end, Rita wouldn’t hesitate to engage in a few histrionics of her own.
Squeezing Missy’s shoulder, she hoped she could find a way to fix this.
“Missy, would you excuse Harrison and me for a few minutes and then I’ll meet you at my room so we can come up with a game plan?” She needed to talk to him. Owed him an explanation, or a makeup date…or a quickie in the elevator to tide over her hunger for him.
“Sure.” Missy scooped up her duffel bag. “And you don’t need to meet with me. I’ve taken up enough of your time already.”
“Don’t be silly.” She nudged Missy forward with big-sister muscle she couldn’t help but flex whenever someone needed help. “I’ll catch up with you in a little bit.”
As they waited for the sound of Missy’s footsteps to disappear, Rita could already feel the heat of the man beside her. But as much as she still wanted him, she wasn’t sure how to maintain her Jayne-impulsiveness once they left the dark cocoon of intimacy the Jupiter deck offered.
“I understand you need to help your friend.” Harrison’s blue eyes saw right through her despite the shadows of the stairwell. “I just hope you’re not having second thoughts about us.”
“No second thoughts.” Although now that they’d been interrupted, Rita wondered if it wasn’t for the best anyhow since they barely knew one another. She was normally a certified chicken when it came to men, even though she liked to tell herself she was just extremely practical. “And I’m sorry tonight didn’t work out.”
“That’s okay.” He squeezed her hand and planted a kiss on the back of her fingers, an old-world gesture that stole her heart.
“Maybe another time.” She couldn’t believe she was angling for another date with him when she’d just convinced herself she didn’t know him well enough to sleep with him. But sometimes, there was no accounting for chemistry and, oh baby, did she have it for him.
“I’d like that. I want you bad, Rita Frazer, but only when you’re one hundred percent into the moment. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this, too.” He watched her with lazy eyes, reminding her how hot things could be between them. “You have no idea how sorry.”
Her body still humming with good vibrations he’d brought her, she shot him a smile and hoped she could find a way to be bold and brazen with this man again soon.
“I have a pretty good idea.”
* * *
TAKING DEEP BREATHS, Jayne steeled herself for confrontation as her long, lost lover poured her a drink. Heavy on the gin, easy on the tonic.
Thank God his bartending abilities were better than his dating skills.
“So you’re traveling incognito these days?” He passed her the drink and the question she didn’t want to answer, all the while staring at her with a lazy look that married men should be forbidden to bestow on unsuspecting females.
The rain still pounded the thatched roof over the bar, the fans whirring gently over the lounge to stir the sultry air.
“It protects my privacy to use my sister’s name now that my fame has spread throughout the Caribbean.” She toasted him with her glass before indulging in a sip, knowing damn well he’d see right through the lie and not caring a bit. “I’ve never been one to cause a stir, you know.”
“And you find the general public immune to transparent clothing?” He leaned forward to peer over the bar, his chocolate-brown eyes raking in every inch of her dripping sundress. “I’ll admit I’m surprised.”
Her heart stuttered for an instant as a shark-tooth pendant clanked against the bar when he’d leaned near, bringing his features into too-enticing focus. He’d grown a patch of hair beneath his lower lip, a close-shorn triangle that she wondered what would feel like against her chin if she…
Snap out of it. Jayne forced herself back to reality by inhaling the scent of damp bamboo. If Rita were here, she would have nudged Jayne in the calf with a sisterly kick.
“I had an unexpected run-in with bad weather.” The gin burned her throat before hitting her veins in a sizzling jolt. No, damn it. That was Emmett’s eyes on her body giving her the sizzling jolt. The gin couldn’t begin to dull senses so sharply attuned to this man’s presence. “Perhaps you could just hand over the telephone and I’ll remove myself and my transparent clothing from your fine establishment?”
She heard the bristly tone in her voice and refused to care that he’d gotten under her skin. He was married, after all. Completely out of her jurisdiction. What did it matter if he thought she was a washed-up has-been in her soggy clothes? He had another woman—a gorgeous, dry woman—waiting for him as soon as Jayne placed her call.
“Technically, it’s no longer my establishment.” He reached under the bar and came up with a telephone. “But feel free to call long distance. I hear the new owner has deep pockets.”
“You sold the bar?” Jayne ignored the phone, her problems of ten minutes ago suddenly less significant. “I thought you were going to stay in St. Kitts forever?”
He’d told her as much when he’d been trying to convince her to give marriage a shot. She’d panicked at the idea of settling down in one place—a fate almost as scary as settling down with just one man—and promptly accused him of loving St. Kitts more than her.
In retrospect, she’d realized it hadn’t exactly been a rational argument. But then, she’d never tried to be the world’s most rational woman. That was Rita’s niche. Up until Emmett, Jayne simply hadn’t been used to men taking her too seriously.
“I guess forever didn’t turn out to be as long as I’d hoped.” He picked up the bottle of tonic and poured himself a glass. “Mind if I join you?”
Without waiting for her answer, he walked around the bar to join her on the other side. Her side.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea considering you’re married and I’m in a transparent dress, remember?” She tossed out the most obvious obstacles, knowing she didn’t dare let Emmett within five feet of her when she was feeling more than a little vulnerable. “In fact, I promised your wife I’d just make my call and be on my way.”
She meant to reach for the phone. Really, she did. But the visual of Emmett swinging his thigh around one side of a bar stool kept her gaze fastened to him with super-glue sticking power.
“Ex-wife.” Emmett’s eyes remained fixed on a manila envelope at the end of the bar for a long moment, as if totally oblivious to Jayne’s presence. “She’s officially no longer mine as of today.”
The hollow hurt of his words was unmistakable.
If Jayne had been a more sensitive woman, maybe she could have murmured something sympathetic and comforting. Hell, even a total stranger would offer up condolences on his failed marriage. But as his ex-lover, Jayne couldn’t help but ask the question burning through her brain with all the insistence of a migraine.
“How long were you married?” The question would shatter any illusion she might have created of aloofness, but the answer seemed too important to overlook. He’d asked Jayne to marry him nine short months ago.
“Seven months.” Tearing his gaze away from the envelope she could only assume carried his divorce papers, Emmett grinned over the rim of his glass. “A hell of a track record in married life, isn’t it?”
“You bastard.” Hurt reeled through her as her brain computed the proximity of his proposal to her with his proposal to another woman. “What did you do, ask the first woman you saw after I got back onboard the Venus last spring to marry you?”
“You said no.” He shrugged a shoulder the same way he must have shrugged off his so-called love for her. “And I respect that when a woman says no, she means it.”
“I said I wasn’t ready.” As he no doubt damn well remembered since she’d explained to him in detail all the reasons she needed more time. “Last I checked, ‘I’m not ready’ doesn’t mean no.”
“It didn’t mean yes, either, did it?” He swiveled on his bar stool to face her, his long legs almost touching her hip. “And you can take all the haughty feminine satisfaction you want from knowing I made a dumb-ass mistake by getting married in a hurry since I’m now divorced and I lost my bar in the bargain. So why not just make your phone call and you can high-kick your way back to the S.S. Good Times or wherever it is you make your home these days and we’ll forget this little encounter ever happened?”
Jayne felt her mouth drooping open at his unexpectedly heated words and promptly snapped it shut. Reaching for the phone she realized she didn’t have a phone number handy to call for a ride and she didn’t personally know a soul on St. Kitts. Present company excluded.
Settling the handset back in the cradle in the rather awkward silence, she was about to request a phone book when Emmett slammed his glass on the bar.
“And for crying out loud, would you put some damn clothes on?” He reached over the counter and dug blindly around until he came up with a bright orange T-shirt. Even at six foot two he didn’t exactly tower over her, but his strong arms and lean, surfer’s physique gave him a solid power that…communicated itself to her so clearly that it was all she could do not to lick her lips. “Wear this. Or drape yourself in cocktail napkins. But Jesus, woman, put on something.”
