She sat back. “He compliments me because we’re the number one team. My fabrics sell better than any other designers’.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He leaned back and crossed his legs, looking too GQ for her to concentrate on her job.
She sighed. “I know that made me his meal ticket. He has no clue how I want to grow and not just create designs on someone’s existing computers. I want to write my own software. It will open up a whole new world for me.”
“And you can do that at another firm?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “The same thing might happen all over again, so I need to go into the next job with better technical skills. I might take some time off to enroll in more classes on software design. Get better...techniques.”
Their eyes locked and he gave her a blank expression. Her eyes dropped to the condom in his shirt’s front pocket. He could probably show her some new techniques. Powered by Durex.
She soaked Tristan in. Beyond the incalculable beauty, something else about him rang familiar. Hart. Hart. Hmmm.
“You said your last name is Hart?”
“Yeah.” He grumbled and leaned in. “I don’t tell people here my last name.”
“Are you related to Luke Hart?”
He exhaled. “My brother.”
Her eyes popped open catching the resemblance she’d missed earlier. For a man who’d seen more tail than a zoo, Luke couldn’t outshine his brother. No way in frozen hell did Tristan walk the streets of Manhattan without all eyes on him. “Your brother’s quite famous.”
“I like it that way.” Tristan sipped his drink. “Gray hates it.”
“Who’s Gray?”
“Our younger brother, Grayson. He’s an actor, so he’s a little jealous when Luke makes the tabloids and he doesn’t.”
“Grayson Hart,” she said, raising her eyes to the coffered ceiling. “Never heard of him.”
“I won’t tell him you said that.” Tristan winked when she looked back at him and her heart did a little dance.
“Do you have anything to do with Luke’s hotel?”
“You know about the hotel?” he shifted in his seat.
“Every article about your brother tags him: Owner of The Sterling.” When he grinned stupidly, she asked, “What?”
“I like how you say The Sterling.”
She sipped her drink then said, “I like that hotel.”
“I like that you like it. It was our father’s hotel.” He twisted his glass around a few times stopping at the lip print from her gloss. “I’m the COO, now. Gray is technically an owner, too. We all took a detour after my father’s death.” When he took his sip, his lush lower lip covered the shiny stain her lipstick left. Holy crap.
“I’m sorry about your dad.” She wanted to ask more questions, but her head got too fuzzy to process answers. “It’s been a long day.” She reached in her wristlet for her wallet. “I can give them my credit card.”
“No.” His fingers closed around her forearm. “I’ll take care of both drinks. Please let me.”
The pleading came out awkward and stale suggesting he didn’t have to beg very often.
“Thank you.” She snapped her wristlet shut. “It was nice to meet you.”
“No.” He shook his head as he signaled for the server.
“No, it’s not nice to meet you?”
“No. You’re not leaving here alone.” His dominance seared her body with heat.
Damn, maybe Nikki had a point about the BDSM thing. She didn’t want to hurt the woman’s movement, but a little dominance now and then turned her on.
“Okay,” she said quietly, and it drew a drilling look from him.
Tristan paid the bill and stood, his height affecting her again. Damn, he was so big, she could wear him like a blanket and he’d completely cover every inch of her body. That morning she felt nothing but pure muscle under his dress shirt.
Laney battled the confused thoughts in her head about what she really wanted to accomplish on this cruise. She came there to sleep with Jonathan. Why the hell else would she take a cruise a week before Christmas? Good lord, had she made her intentions that obvious? Is that why he’s been avoiding her this whole time?
While walking to the elevators, her heart raced from Tristan’s hand resting on the small of her back. The heat from his fingers tingled her spine and turned her gooey. What was happening?
Inside the elevator to their deck, Tristan stood on the other side of the car studying her. Like he was thinking.
What about? What to do with a woman who drank two hundred dollars’ worth of scotch and came there to seduce her boss, an idiot who miraculously forgot she had a vagina. A tight wet one from the way it’d been clenching staring at this tall gorgeous man who owned a hotel.
Nikki said she needed practice. Tristan wouldn’t take money for the drink. Perhaps when they got to her cabin, she’d offer him a goodnight kiss.
Thank you, handsome. Want a taste of me? She quickly looked down to make sure there was nothing she could stumble over. When the elevator stopped and the door slid open, he gestured for her to step out, just like that afternoon.
In the narrow corridor, Tristan felt bigger and his super-polished appearance stood out against the beige walls.
“This is me.” She stopped and fingered the embossed number plate on the door. She breathed heavily taking him in, but the moisture in her mouth from wanting to devour this man started a little coughing fit.
“Laney, are you okay?”
Clearing her throat, she leaned against the door. “You tell me.”
Tristan’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Slowly, he leaned in and laid one palm next to her head. In that head, she replayed how it’d felt when he picked her up. Twice. The feel of his body shattered through her again and the back of her throat vibrated.
Breathing out a little moan, she tilted her head up to meet those golden eyes. No dubious consent here. She wanted him to kiss her. She licked her lips, inviting him in.
Tristan’s mouth was on hers. Fast and hot. A groan escaped him when she peeked her tongue out to meet his. It was soft and tasted like the scotch they shared, stronger on him since he’d had more. He pulled her in by the waist, the delicious friction of their bodies caught fire as he deepened the kiss. Then all ten of his long fingers threaded through her hair, urging her in closer by the base of her neck. Demanding. Possessing.
Every breath she took was his, and she dragged it deep in her lungs to fill herself up. She pulled away in little jaunts nipping at his lips, teasing him. A growl deep in his chest and a tightening hand suggested he liked to be played with it.
Her arms slid across his shoulders and her wrists locked around his neck. The way she held him in place, told him to keep going. The world slipped away and she felt lost. The small space around them became the whole world. The whole universe. It was just her. And Tristan.
On a cruise ship. She could be anyone she wanted. Anyone he wanted.
“You feel so good,” he breathed into her cheek as his tongue flicked her earlobe. After a long sigh mixed with a low muted curse, he pulled away and brought their foreheads together. “But I should say goodnight. You were drinking. I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding.”
She felt crushed, thinking she hadn’t affected him. Yet, a fantastic erection pressed against her stomach. Long and wide.
Just once, Laney, do the wrong thing.
Except it wasn’t up to her. He wanted out. He was doing the right thing.
“If you say so.” Her body softened and he let her go. “Thank you. That was an amazing kiss.”
“Yeah, it was.” He stroked the rim of his mouth, his wild eyes offering her a glimpse of the war possibly going on in his head. “Goodnight.” He lowered his lips once more for a closed-mouth kiss.
“See you around, handsome.” Laney winked and inserted her key card. She pushed her door open and thanked the cruise gods, she didn’t fall on her face this time.
Tristan
/>
TRISTAN STOOD IN THE corridor with his dick screaming at him. Go in her room, you stupid motherfucker, and get what you came here for! He gawked at her door for an extra minute, but ended up banging his head against the wall in a smash he’d probably feel tomorrow.
He wanted her to think the kiss not going any further was for her benefit, but it was for his, too. He had no idea what he was doing. The steps he pounded to his cabin were short, but harsh. The whoosh from his long legs reminded him of the panting woman he just had in his arms. Inside his cabin, he caught sight of himself in the mirror by the door and let out a pissed-off breath. In the bathroom, he roughly took out those damn contact lenses. He squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the burning to stop. When he slid dark-rimmed glasses on his nose, the real Tristan returned.
That guy, the real him had kissed Laney. And the same guy stopped, realizing she was a little drunk. Tris...jeez, he didn’t know what Tris would do with a drunk woman this week. He was glad he never had to find out. Laney was there for a fling, but not with the likes of him. She was there for someone she cared about. Her boss.
Anger sizzled in his veins imagining someone else having her.
Tristan smacked his laptop alive to do some work before he went to bed. Calm down and will his hard-on to go away. It felt too empty to jerk off to a fantasy that would never happen.
CHAPTER FOUR
Laney
Laney woke up, face down on a bed she never bothered to turn down last night. “Ouch,” she said, pressing her left temple.
When speaking sent a rush of saliva into her throat, she propelled off the bed and dove into the bathroom.
After twenty minutes of stomach misery in her bedroom’s private closet masquerading as a bathroom, she took a quick shower and got dressed. Figuring the weather had to have warmed up, she dug out tan linen pants and a floral print blouse. Wet strands of her dark hair swung in her face as she ran to find coffee. And Nikki. What the hell happened the night before? She slinked through the winding passageways, shameful of the time, and hoped they were still serving breakfast.
On the deck that smelled like coffee and the ocean, she passed a DJ under a large Mexican hat shimmying behind his booth. Top forty songs bellowed out of the ship’s speaker system. A little loud for breakfast.
But spotting the elegant bar from last night, it all came rushing back. The images of Tristan kissing her smacked around the inside of her head.
Unable to wait until she reached one of the restaurants, she stopped at the first java cart in her path. She had only taken one sip of her coffee to gauge the temperature when Nikki appeared next to her.
“Good morning, Miss Hathaway,” Nikki cooed, all polished and shiny. Her pristine appearance stung like a jellyfish. Youth.
Laney felt like the one who’d been peed on. “Maybe for you.” She began her rigorous routine of converting the bitter steaming liquid into the sweet, creamy unrecognizable molten elixir she needed every morning.
“How was your nightcap?” Nikki asked.
Nerves bubbled in her stomach. “Oh my God, brace yourself for what I have to tell you.”
Laney slowly revealed the taunting memory of the mysterious, handsome man kissing her outside their cabin. She had to tell someone, or she’d explode.
Nikki’s mouth hung open during the details, and then she said, “How could you?”
Laney lowered her sunglasses to glare at her. “Excuse me?”
“How could you do something so amazing and not wake me up to tell me!”
“I didn’t plan it. It just happened which made it...exciting.” For all the maneuvering she’d been doing to get with Jonathan, that natural, organic moment with Tristan was a blessed relief.
Nikki ordered coffee from the same cart and took a moment to stare at Laney with her thinking face. After a stretchy minute, she asked, “Why haven’t you made a move on Jonathan before now?” Nikki’s chin followed every shift and wiggle of the hot scruffy barista’s ass making her macchiato. “You’ve been single since I met you.”
“I’ve been waiting for the right moment,” Laney gave her practiced answer. “This is very sensitive, us working together.”
“Do you think this might be an overwhelming way to tell a guy you just want sex?”
“Nikki, please lower your voice.” Laney found it amusing that without alcohol, Nikki’s opinion on her confessing to Jonathan had changed.
Was her assistant preparing her for failure? Something Laney didn’t have much experience with. She was Westmore’s top designer and Jonathan impressively sold her fabrics in mass quantities ensuring a piece of Laney was everywhere. Had she mixed up his drive to get her work out there as something other than his greed and not his respect and caring about her?
Uh-oh, had she been wrong about him all these years?
The thought of Jonathan turning her down and the embarrassment sent shivers up her spine.
“Unless you’re in love with him,” Nikki whispered—that she whispered. “Then this would be an incredibly romantic gesture.”
“Are you saying to tell a man I only want sex will scare him off? But to confess my undying love will make him delete his Tinder app?” Laney rolled her eyes. “Because if that’s the case, I’ve got this whole thing backward.”
“I’m glad I’m not single,” Nikki said, paying for her coffee.
Me too. Laney’s lack of dates had nothing to do with her looks. She knew she had it going on, but had been too fixated on getting Jonathan.
She and Nikki strolled down a dimly lit corridor of shops that hadn’t opened yet. Lots of sparkle. Lots of posh goodies for sale. The yoga studio with its free classes was all she could afford in that part of the ship.
The dark passageway opened up to an outdoor seating area. With a bright blue sky overhead and snapping waves below, Laney plopped down at a two-top table against the railing and pondered breakfast.
With Nikki seated directly in front of her, she said, “All I want is a chance to say to Jonathan, How about some hot, dirty, and completely meaningless sex.” Laney held her hands in prayer. “I’ve wanted to say that to him for so long. Please let me have this one time where I can do that?”
“You want him to think you’re a slut?” Nikki asked.
“Only sluts want meaningless sex?” Laney glanced up at a man staring at her with parted lips, holding a breakfast tray.
After scanning her collarbone and tugging at his wonky-buttoned shirt, he shrugged and walked off. Watching him amble away, she noticed a group of women at a nearby table gawking at her, too.
“That’s his seat,” one said, pointing.
“Someone was sitting here?” Laney asked, confused.
“He always sits there. It’s his seat.” The woman shook her head and dove back into her breakfast plate.
Frowning, Laney told Nikki, “I’ll stay here and hold the table. Just get me a hardboiled egg.”
Her assistant huffed and took off. The air still held some of that December chill and according to the digital maps all over the ship, they’d only gotten as far as the Virginia coast.
Nikki returned with a heaping plate for herself and a sad bowl containing one cold egg with a side of cut strawberries for Laney.
While her assistant plowed through pancakes, a mountain of bacon, two mini muffins, and a large helping of home fries, Laney sneered unlovingly at her one hardboiled egg. Managing her weight usually called for skipping meals.
While eating her carbs and fat, Nikki yammered on about an issue her fiancé had at work. Laney happily listened and concentrated on her egg. When Nikki clammed up, Laney glanced her way. Her assistant looked like a chipmunk with a mouthful of nuts.
“What’s the matter?” Laney asked.
Nikki resumed chewing, and said, “Your gorgeous new friend just made landfall.”
Laney put down the cold egg and twisted her curious body. With her innocent face on, she peered behind her.
Tristan stared at her with a confused
expression.
“Holy crap.” Laney zipped her body back around and held her head, embarrassed for kissing him the way she had. Surely, he’d intended to avoid her for the remainder of the cruise.
“I need more syrup.” Nikki gathered her plate and scampered away from the table, utensils clanging together, some dropping to the floor.
“Don’t leave me,” Laney ground out, but it was no use because Nikki took off like the lifeboats were being deployed.
The sun left her shoulders when a shadow darkened her bowl of strawberries. Laney froze, figuring it had to be Tristan based on his height.
A surge of bravery drove Laney to spin in her seat and face him, head-on. “Hi. You look like the man whose drink I stole last night, right?”
“That was me.” Tristan’s eyes were soft and his hand lay across his heart.
A shot of heat roared through her body and her palms had gone all damp. “I think between your Balvenie and my Cosmo, I got a little forward. I’m sorry about that.”
A rosy glow bloomed across his cheeks. His full pink lips pursed suggesting he struggled for something to say. She doubted a woman had ever apologized for kissing him.
Silence filled the space between them. When they didn’t have a drink to fight over, or lips itching to taste each other, maybe there wasn’t much to say. Perhaps he came by to be riveted and she’d let him down.
When a female called out to him from a nearby table and the others cooed at him, he swore under his breath.
Laney appreciated the save by a group of women who were unable to control themselves around this guy. “I have to see where my assistant disappeared to. Then I’m gonna try a yoga class. See you around, Tristan.” She scooted away from the table, leaving behind her pathetic excuse for a breakfast.
Walking through the buffet area, she breathed in erratic pants. Tristan Hart’s penetrating stare screwed with her equilibrium. Her blood sugar had dropped, so Laney cut the line to grab the last blueberry muffin. Starving, she ate and unwrapped the thing, wishing she’d done so in the right order.
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