Four Nights at Sea

by Demi Alex

  “I could really use your help,” Ford said, covering her shaking knee with his palm, his fingers aching from the contact. “Having a female partner would make my job much easier and validate my presence in the workshops.”

  “Why?” Charlie asked.

  Ford couldn’t lay it on thick or Charlie would see right through his plan. The woman wasn’t gullible. Worse, the captain was eyeing him with concern. If Ford overstepped, he’d be out of a job and off the ship in no time.

  “There is a certain level of audience participation expected, and the other guests may be suspicious of non-participating newcomers,” he explained, removing his hand from her knee and alternating a pointed finger between them. And that was the absolute truth, so he went for broke. “As an undercover employee of the cruise line, I’m still bound by the rules of my employment, so my interactions are restricted. It will only take a few close calls for others to question the authenticity and sincerity of my presence.”

  Thankfully, her hackles receded, and he saw the reporter surface as she analyzed his words. Her intense blue gaze met his, searching his eyes before dropping to his mouth. A blush crept up her throat and settled in her cheeks. Fuck, she was a tasty shade of pink. What the hell was he thinking, putting himself in such close proximity without being able to have her? He would never survive the weekend.

  “Staff and crew are not permitted in passenger cabins,” the captain elaborated. “If Keaton is expected to interact”—the man used air quotes for emphasis—“with other guests, but continuously doesn’t follow through, he will look suspicious. Possibly be outed by his actions or non-actions.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, her gaze still caressing Ford’s mouth.

  Ford needed to appeal to her good sense and make her choose him. “We’ll make a good team, Charlie. And we’ll both accomplish our goals while not compromising our principles.”

  “I’m not sure. It could backfire.” Her finger twirled, creating a perfect curl.

  “Working together will allow you to remain undercover if you’re comfortable doing so,” Ford pointed out. “It also keeps your research honest.” Score. Ford liked that one. Honest research seemed to be her game.

  Surprising him, she shrugged. “It doesn’t make a difference to me. Besides, Quinn already knows I’m a writer on assignment.”

  “Quinn?” The name left a sour taste on Ford’s tongue.

  Georgiou held up a hand to keep Ford from continuing his questioning. “I’m curious to hear what Mr. Quinn said upon learning you are writing a story.”

  Her nose scrunched in the cutest manner and the pink returned to her cheeks. “Something about not blushing so much, dressing the part, and letting loose to get the material. Otherwise . . .”

  Ford leaned closer to hear, but she didn’t continue. Rather she clapped her hands.

  “Okay. I’ll do it,” she said. “I think we could help each other.” She turned and looked into his eyes. “I’ll be your cover.” With a dainty yet firm grasp, she moved his hand off her thigh to the pleather cushion. “You’ll be a great source of information. Not only about this specific voyage, but I can pick your brain about romance and cruises in general.”

  “Perfect. I’ll leave you to figure out the details.” The captain pushed back his chair and stood. He smiled and took Charlie’s hand in his. “If I can be of any help, please let me know. And don’t forget to take advantage of all the amenities our beautiful ship offers, Charlene. She’ll certainly make you smile.” He turned to Ford and shook his hand. “Good luck, Keaton.”

  “Thank you,” Ford said, wondering if his captain truly knew how much strength he’d need not to be thrown off at the next port. He had to finish the cruise. Just sitting in the casual eatery with the woman had his groin protesting the imposed distance. He could only imagine how he’d react if she decided to participate in any scenes for the sake of research.

  “Why did you introduce yourself as Ford, when it seems like everyone who knows you calls you Keaton?” Charlie’s gaze darkened as she questioned the difference in names.

  “I prefer Ford. Keaton is my legal name, but it carries a lot of family baggage and bullshit I’d rather not deal with.” He cleared his throat. “What cabin are you in?”

  “I thought you aren’t allowed in passenger cabins.”

  “I’m not,” he replied. “I want to join your section for the muster drill. Perhaps pick you up so we could review the group’s itinerary and decide which workshops we’d like to attend?”

  “I’m meeting with Quinn for the lifeboat drill,” she lied, standing and giving him her back. She looked over her shoulder. “Chat after we set sail—starboard, by the pool?”

  She had no idea what she’d asked for, but he couldn’t hold back a grin. “Sure. Whatever you want.” Ford stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping her attention on him. “Be sure to check the itinerary. Later.” He brushed his lips over her hair and left.

  Chapter Six

  Charlie presented as a prim lady, but she wasn’t a stupid one. She had her own agenda, and she didn’t appreciate being saddled with a babysitter. What the men didn’t know was that she’d actually chosen to accept the handsome babysitter. Better to suffer the arrogant sex-on-legs than to be thrown over a Daddy Dom’s shoulder and be carried away. Presenting herself as part of a couple would make her job easier.

  That was her story and she was sticking to it. It didn’t matter that her chest squeezed so tight each time she was around the man it kept oxygen from reaching her brain. Nor did it matter that the ache between her legs pulsed like crazy when he looked at her with those intense eyes.

  Sighing, she closed her hand around the handle, lifted her carry-on, and started down the staircase. She knew one thing for sure. He, Ford, Keaton, or whatever he called himself, wasn’t going to get her hopes up. He’d warned as much. He wasn’t the relationship kind of man. And the intensity between them wasn’t a casual fling kind of energy. She’d end up heartbroken if she got involved. She’d steer clear.

  The flutter in her abdomen disagreed, but she knew better. She’d spend time with him to make her job easier and more efficient, but she wasn’t going to admit how much she ached to lie beneath him and have him take her completely. She fanned her face with her free hand and pulled at the golf shirt sticking to her heaving chest. Shit. He’d be the sexual experience of a lifetime.

  Whatever. She didn’t have time for fantasy. She had a job to do, and she was going to freaking enjoy doing it.

  Charlie stopped at Quinn’s door and knocked, disappointed when there was no answer. She’d reviewed the afternoon’s schedule, and she needed a cohort like Quinn to accompany her. Quinn equaled comfortable and free.

  Shuffling a few feet farther into the passageway, she found her cabin and slipped her keycard into the slot. Before she had the chance to make it inside, laughter sounded from down the hall. She looked up and saw the handsome couple wave.

  “Look at you, Miss Fancy,” Quinn called, walking right up to her and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Guess we’re meant to be. We’re even on the same deck.”

  “Practically neighbors,” she replied, giving him a big smile and waving a hand diagonally from her door to 6411.

  “Charlie, meet Luis. Luis, this is the pretty lady I told you about.” Quinn made the introductions, and Luis took her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charlie. I can see why you made quite an impression on Quinn. You’re stunning.”

  Not only was Luis as hot as Quinn had described, but charm oozed from his pores. A bit older than Quinn, but sexy as shit, Luis sent her insides into a frenzy.

  His pewter-colored short-sleeve shirt stretched over his sculpted chest and showcased the colorful tattoos on his impressive biceps. Black jeans casually hugged his trim hips, the jeans worn in all the right spots. When his dark gaze met hers, bad boy vibes wrapped around her awareness, until the corners of his full lips lift
ed into a dazzling smile and put her at ease.

  She could definitely see why Quinn was taken with him. The man exuded sex appeal. With his confident saunter and exotic Latino looks, Luis could pass for Enrique Iglesias from afar. And if his personality came close to matching his looks, it was no wonder Quinn was so in love.

  Once Quinn pointed out that her accommodations were more deluxe than theirs, she pushed on her door and the threesome moved into Charlie’s cabin to discuss a few of the events.

  “Told you it was fancy,” Quinn repeated, rounding the seating area and strolling past the large bed to the balcony. “We went for an inside cabin.”

  “So did I,” Charlie said. “I don’t get it.”

  “Maybe they upgraded you? After all, you’re a big-shot reporter,” Quinn replied.

  “Ha ha,” Charlie said. “I wish.” She placed her small suitcase in the closet and indicated the men should make themselves comfortable. “Actually, I need to ask you a favor related to my big-shot reporting.”

  While Quinn sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, Luis remained standing and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked down at her, raising a dark brow in question.

  “After reviewing the cruise specifics, I’ve decided that it may be more beneficial to keep the feature on the down low. I want to get a true perspective on my subject matter, and approaching guests with a list of questions may not be the best way.”

  “True,” Quinn agreed, standing and taking a few steps to the lighted desk area. He studied the welcome basket and lifted a ribbon of condoms. “While all lifestyles are represented on this cruise, some people may shut down if they feel like you’re observing them in a petri dish environment. You should mingle.”

  “Agreed.” Charlie clasped her hands between her knees. “I can use some friendly faces to navigate the waters.”

  “Anything to do with that dark hunk of man who glowered at me on deck? I thought he was going to throw you over his shoulder and stomp out of the restaurant,” Quinn said.

  “No. Stop with me being thrown over shoulders,” Charlie said, pushing welcome thoughts of being thrown over Ford’s shoulder out of her mind. “I’ll be working with that dark hunk of a man at some of the events. He needs a partner as cover for his work.” She explained about Ford’s position and what the captain expected of him.

  “Right.” Quinn returned to her side and folded the condoms into her hand, closing his fingers over hers. “If you need us, we’re here for you. We’re willing accomplices and friendly faces.”

  “Thanks,” Charlie said, feeling the heat crawl up her neck. “I don’t want to be a buzzkill. I don’t want to get in the way—”

  “You won’t be in the way,” Quinn insisted.

  “You could be part of the way,” Luis said, his gaze smoothing over her. “If you want to be, pequeña.”

  “Um,” she breathed, shifting in her seat, her hand still enclosed in Quinn’s. She looked between the men and understanding dawned. They were inviting her to join in their sexual explorations. Shit. Shit. Triple shit. She’d messed up. “I didn’t mean to imply that I should be your third wheel.”

  “We know,” Quinn assured, pulling her hand into his lap. “We’re in the friend zone. Got it. Luis is offering an additional option, should you want to venture that way. I’ve already told you that we enjoy variety in our bed. You, as a friend with benefits, would be awesome. But, if that’s not what you want, we’re cool. Friendly faces and accomplices.”

  Quinn was sincere. No hidden plan in his words.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, releasing her breath. “I thought we could attend some of the workshops together.”

  “We will,” Luis said. “No worries, querida.”

  “Querida?” Charlie asked, looking at Quinn for clarification.

  “Sweet thing. Darling. Honey,” Quinn explained. “You’ve made a definite impression and sure connection with Luis. He doesn’t take to most people. But sweetheart, you’re hard to resist.”

  Luis wasn’t as easy to speak to as to look at. He watched Charlie and Quinn, but didn’t talk much. His dark eyes seemed to process more than she admitted. He seemed almost amused. An edge of anticipation scraped over her consciousness as the corners of his mouth formed a promising smile.

  “Luis and I have marked the workshops we’re interested in attending.” Quinn pulled the program from his back pocket and handed it to her. “You’re more than welcome to join us, Charlie. Being together should make it a little easier for you to dabble in what you’d like to explore.”

  Reviewing the schedule, she was pleasantly surprised to find that he’d marked a few of the events she’d already decided on. She nodded. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  “Pick Your Mate.” “The Dating Game.” “PDAs.” Those were a few of the titles Quinn had starred. She’d also starred them.

  “Want to start with tonight’s Sail Away party?” Quinn asked, pointing to “Erogenous Zone Happy Hour.”

  “Perfect,” she said, glad he’d invited her. “I know singles make up the majority of guests, but I appreciate the opportunity to walk into an event together. Thank you.”

  “One condition,” Luis said, raising a thick finger in the air. His dark gaze met hers, looking directly past her professional façade. “You need to agree to be honest and accept your nature. Regardless of your preconceived notions.”

  She wrinkled her forehead, unsure of what he was implying.

  “True nature, querida. Be honest. That’s all. Agree,” he cautioned.

  A peculiar heaviness filled her stomach. There was obviously a purpose for Luis’s bold request, but whatever his reason, it unsettled her. “I’m honest.”

  “You need to accept that honesty,” he pressed.

  Nodding, she reached for her vapor stick and took a needed drag. She exhaled and waved a hand through the scented cloud, considering what it would entail to accept her honest nature. Nothing too difficult. She knew what she wanted. Sort of. “I agree.”

  “Good girl.” Luis smiled, leaned over, and stroked his thumb down her cheek. He extended his other hand to Quinn, who accepted it and stood. “Change into something a little more comfortable. We’ll pick you up when they call for the muster drill.”

  Relieved that he’d answered her unasked question on the dress code, she sighed and followed them to the door. “Thank you.”

  Once she was alone, she face-planted onto a pillow, punching her fists into the other pillow. “Shit! Shit! Triple shit!”

  This cruise was everything she’d ever dreamed of and then some. It was a chance to take her career to a higher level with her very own byline. It was also a chance to have the sex she’d always wanted. Plenty of opportunities.

  “Why can’t you indulge in what Quinn and Luis offered?” Charlie cried to the empty room, flipped over, and sat up to look into the mirror. “Why can’t you just do casual?”

  Because she was a romantic fool and wanted tingles dancing on her skin when she was with her lover. No matter how good-looking Quinn and Luis were, they were, as Quinn had pointed out, in the friend zone. She wanted them as friends.

  “They’re not like Ford,” she cautioned her reflection. “He’ll break your heart.” She dropped her arms in an exasperated gesture and shook her head. “Just stick with the research, Charlie. Have fun, and if you can’t find the right guy for a casual affair, you’ll make do.” Done speaking to her reflection, she glanced at the goodie basket and the rubber penis that was displayed in the center. “Whatever.”

  She turned away and walked to the closet.

  * * *

  The horn sounded as Ford made his way to the lifeboat drill. He hadn’t needed to ask her for her cabin number to know which muster station to attend. He already knew. But there was something about the woman that had him wanting to keep her to himself. Did he want her to need him? Or did he want to claim every inch of her as soon as possible? This infatuation made no sense. He needed to
figure out more specifically what he wanted.

  Passengers crowded the assigned spots, forming tight should-have-been rows of boisterous and rowdy people in the afternoon sun. Between the bodies moving to a salsa beat and umbrella topped drinks and beer bottles lined up along the railing, the guests in his particular station looked to have started their vacation well ahead of setting sail.

  Ford scanned the group and spotted his petite blonde. She wasn’t alone and she wasn’t distressed. That Quinn guy had his hand on her hip and was shaking his jock ass to the music as they swayed to the beat. The jock held an oversized piña colada to her lips and urged her to drink. And with his arm wrapped so intimately around her, his forearm rested on the skin above her breasts.

  “No way,” Ford muttered. If anyone’s forearm was going to brush her tits, it would be his. He’d seen her first. They had an agreement. He moved forward, pushing through the party, but stopped in his tracks when a second guy grinned at her and touched a finger to her chin. The second guy winked at Charlie and licked his fingertip.

  What the fuck? Ford thought, unable to look away. She’s sandwiched between All-American and Latin Lover. He groaned, holding his fists against his thighs. Charlie didn’t need his protection. She didn’t need his help. She had it all under control, and she blended in just fine.

  Charlie caught him watching and raised her hand. Her fingers fluttered a hello.

  As he restarted toward her, Ford knew he was screwed. Maybe she didn’t need him, but he wanted her. He’d never been the kind of man to turn his back on a challenge. And Charlene Stanton was definitely a challenge. He was going to spend the whole cruise in purgatory: looking, craving, tasting, but not having.

  Admittedly more than a little drawn to Charlie, he wasn’t about to ignore the ache in his groin completely. For some fucked-up reason, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, leave her alone. Once he’d had his fill of that delectable softness, he would then move on to business as usual. It was Lust 101—homework required.

  Quinn finished the drink and stepped away, placing the empty glass by the railing. Ford moved to the spot he’d vacated.