Straightening, she grinned at him and reached up to tug on his conservative yellow-and-gray striped tie. “Does that mean it won’t work for drinks and dancing? We’ll have to discuss what I should change into.” She let out a fluttering sigh. “Honestly, I’m just glad you don’t hate the dress.”
Hate it? How could any straight man within visual range hate a dress that hugged her curves and showed almost demure peeks at the skin beyond the leather? “Not at all. In fact, I suggest you wear it every time we’re together.” She lowered her head again and the curtain of her hair begged to be touched. He trailed his fingers along the silken waves until he came to her chin and tipped it back up. “Shall we?”
The maître d’ nodded at him and adjusted his jacket as they approached. “Welcome to the Adagio dining room, Lucas and…” he checked a list on his clipboard, “I’m sorry, miss, I don’t believe I have your name.”
Lucas frowned, hoping the maître d’s error was a mere slip and not a slight toward his dinner guest. “Mercedes Vega. Her name is right next to mine, Jean-Paul.”
“Ah yes, forgive me, Ms. Vega. Right this way.”
They wound through chairs upholstered in a rich gold brocade and tables draped in stark white linens, and Lucas could feel stares following them. So could Mercedes. “What is with these people?”
Lucas tugged her closer and whispered through her hair, “The women are glaring at you for having the nerve to look like you do and the men are checking out your ass.”
She laughed, low and throaty, and his cock threatened to jump to attention and salute. “Well, it is a pretty nice ass, if I do say so myself.”
“I’ll have to reserve judgment.”
“Excuse me?” She choked on the laughter.
They reached the long table beneath the immense chandelier and the maître d’ pulled out a chair for her. Lucas held her fingers as she sat, then leaned in close again. “I haven’t really seen you from the back tonight. Reality might not match what’s in my imagination.”
The way she tipped her head up left her lips only inches away from his. Once more, close enough to kiss and almost impossible to resist. “It might even be better.”
“I don’t know… I do have a really great imagination.”
She shrugged and turned toward the table, casting him a sideways glance around her waves of hair. “And I have a phenomenal ass.”
He sat next to her, wishing he could find out for himself right then. Soon enough Captain Roberts and the last of the dinner guests joined them though and they dove into conversation over nibbles of bread and drinks. For all the issues he’d expected Mercedes to have when dealing with the rich, given her earlier distaste for displays of wealth, she handled the table effortlessly. Small talk and laughter filled twenty or thirty minutes, and never once did she falter, listening to other people’s stories before inserting some anecdote of her own. It was a side of her Lucas hadn’t seen yet, and he was impressed. A woman like her could do a lot of good given the right opportunities. From her earlier comments, she worked with kids. Maybe she’d be interested in helping with the school he was building—assuming he could tear her away from whatever charity she was so invested in, at least for a while.
As their host pushed back from his steak, Mercedes leaned toward him. “Captain Roberts, Lucas informed me there are a few charity events during the course of the cruise.”
Roberts smoothed back his blond hair as he turned toward her. “Yes. We have a partnership with the Make-A-Wish Foundation and have a walk near the end of each sailing to benefit them. Then there’s the talent show and the wine tasting. All the proceeds from the excursion where you can swim with the dolphins actually go to the dolphin center and help fund both animal rehabilitation as well as opportunities for special needs children to have therapy sessions there.”
The way Mercedes lit up when he spoke only confirmed Lucas’s suspicions; her heart lay with those in need, specifically children. “That’s amazing. I was at a ranch once during college that did similar work with troubled teens and horses. Kids who had been kicked out of schools for fighting, even some from juvenile-detention facilities, worked with the animals in order to develop responsibility and empathy. It was incredible to watch.”
She bit her lip, but Lucas could tell by the way she ducked her head and smiled this time the move was calculated. She was far more adept at this sort of thing than he would have anticipated. He’d expected some of the tension he’d seen in the shop, and her guile was refreshing. In the wrong situation, she’d be dangerous—and probably ridiculously wealthy herself. Instead she’d dedicated herself to helping others. He could almost feel Rosie shoving him toward her and didn’t even attempt to resist.
Waiters appeared to clear away their dishes, and Mercedes pounced, ever so gently, on the opening. “I was wondering… I work for a charity in New York. Our goal is to help kids who need basics like food, clothes, and safe places to go after school. For example, we provided coats, boots, gloves, and hats to over three hundred children who otherwise would have gone without this past winter. The thing is we’re not a big organization yet and we could really use a boost in financial support for some of our more substantial projects like the playground we’re trying to build this summer. I know it’s incredibly last minute, but I was curious if there was any chance of being included in the recipient charities from this sailing.”
The captain couldn’t say no. Hell, Lucas wanted to cut her a check then and there.
“What did you say the name of the organization was?”
“Better Todays.” She pulled a card out of her tiny clutch and handed it to him. “The website, simple as it is, is listed on the card, as well as our tax ID number and contact information for my boss, Kelsey Martindale.”
Bright blue eyes twinkling, the captain stuck the card in his pocket. “I won’t promise anything but I’ll see what I can do.”
Better Todays. The name teased at the edges of Lucas’s memory like he should know it. Considering how much research he’d done into Queens when looking to build the school, it could’ve been anything. Somehow it felt important though, more than just a passing hit on the Internet.
As desserts were set before them, the captain nodded, favoring Mercedes with a smile. “If you’re willing to put in some work, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
“Work is one thing I am more than willing to do.”
And people said Lucas had problems taking time off. If he had to guess, Mercedes didn’t get many chances to take vacations, and she was willing to spend this one busting her ass for the job she left behind. Her dedication to Better Todays—like his determination to build Rosie’s school—had roots in something. He wanted to know what, and if Mercedes could be calculating so could he. Time to put his effort where he hadn’t had the opportunity to put his money yet. “I’d be glad to help you, Mercedes. Two minds and all that.”
“And four hands?” Mercedes tilted her head to the side and arched a brow at him.
“Of course.” For the chance to spend more time getting to know what made her tick, he would happily get his hands dirty.
As easy as the meal had proven, she wasn’t the only one who breathed a sigh of relief when it was over. He was sick of sharing her, especially since the captain had become friendlier and friendlier with Mercedes as time went on, asking about the charity and what she did during her down time back home. Lucas stood and pulled out her chair, watching greedily as she smoothed the leather over her very-phenomenal ass.
Truth in advertising had never looked so good. The thought of palming her ass and pulling her against him would make his appreciation visible if he wasn’t careful. Time to get out of here so he could have some time alone with her.
“Thank you, Captain Roberts,” Lucas said, interrupting yet one more conversation between the two of them—this one about the damn New York Yankees. “We had a lovely time.”
Mercedes glanced his way, her lips twisted into something not quite sm
irk, not quite frown, something disapproving. “Yes, Captain, we enjoyed dinner immensely. Thank you for allowing me to join you.”
Okay. Mental note: speaking for Mercedes Vega will get you nowhere good.
The uniformed cretin took her hand, raised it, and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “The pleasure was mine, Ms. Vega. And thank you for the information on the charity you work for. I’ll let you know as soon as the cruise director and I manage to figure out a suitable option for your event.”
Lucas would happily give her several thousand dollars to just get out of there. He squashed down the impulse to buy his way out and waited as patiently as he could manage. After she shook hands with everyone he finally managed to drag her—quite literally—from the dining room.
Tripping over her feet as the ship rolled, Mercedes clutched at his arm and pulled him to a stop. “If you don’t want to know what dinner smells like again, please slow down and tell the boat to behave.”
One glance showed her grinning at him and he relaxed. “For a minute there, I thought we were going to have to go shopping again and I know you don’t want that.”
“I also don’t want to break my neck. I’m wearing heels and my sea legs haven’t fully formed yet. I’m not sure they ever will since I feel like I’m going to fall every time the ship rocks. So can we leave the dining room at some speed slower than pretending we’re on the run from the cops?”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize we were going that fast.”
They started walking again, slower this time. He punched the call button for the elevator. “Sounds like dancing might not be the best plan then.”
She tipped her head up and searched his face. He could almost feel himself being weighed and measured under her gaze. The sensation was heady, arousing, in ways he’d never felt before. He matched her appraising stare until she spoke. “No. Dancing would be bad tonight, but I do expect at least one drink to make up for the rum runner you made me spill on you earlier.”
“Made you spill on me?”
She nodded. “It’s pretty obvious you wanted to spend time with me. What easier way than making me think I’d been clumsy and run into you? You plotted this all along.”
How she managed to not even crack a smile through it all, he couldn’t tell, but he definitely wanted to learn. He had one hell of a poker face but he was pretty sure hers put his to shame.
“You caught me. I saw you coming and knew the only way you’d deign to join me for dinner was if you crashed right into my chest.”
Her lips twitched, facade fracturing. “Well, it is an awfully nice chest.” She let her fingers trail down his shirt for a second before straightening his tie. “What do you say to a couple shots of tequila and some jazz?”
“Tequila?”
“Unless you can’t handle that.” She actually batted her damn eyelashes at him; they were so long and thick they had to be fake. Or they weren’t and they were as stunning as the rest of her.
“Three shots, and then we renegotiate.”
Biting her lip and scrunching up her nose, she tightened the knot against his neck just enough so he felt it pressing on his Adam’s apple. “You do drive a hard bargain, Lucas. I accept.”
As she took his arm again, he wondered for the first time if this wasn’t a deal he’d wind up regretting. In less than a day, Mercedes had worked her way under his skin in a way no other woman had ever managed, and it felt way too good having her there.
…
The first shot of Patrón went down the instant the waiter left. Warmth seeped into her blood and loosened the knots in her shoulders just enough to make her notice how much they hurt. Dinner had been a bit more stressful than she’d let on. She would much rather do all the physical labor the charity required than have to make nice with people. Sure she could do it—her success at dinner had proven that, much to her own surprise—but Kelsey was so much more comfortable with that sort of thing. And the tightness threatening to make her shoulders curl in on themselves was proof of how much the hobnobbing took out of her. The only thing she wanted now was time with Lucas and the pain was a very unwelcome distraction.
She reached back and dug her fingers in, pulling on the muscles as she pushed her head back to double the pressure. Please stop hurting. There is a beautiful man here and I want to hang on his every word. I can’t do that if…
“You’re killing me.” Lucas’s hands brushed the skin of her arms, sending electricity through her entire body. “May I?”
The look in his eyes sent that surge of energy straight to her most sensitive areas and Mercedes almost forgot what he was talking about. Then a muscle twitched in her neck and, giving a wince, she remembered. “If you do, I might have to go home with you.”
“Then by all means turn that delicious ass around and come a little closer.” He leaned back in his chair and wiggled his fingers.
It was like the devil himself was offering her candy. Who cared about heaven when this was what eternal damnation had to offer? Her abuela rolled over in her grave at the blasphemy as Mercedes slid in between Lucas’s thighs. A perfect fit.
Then he set to work on her aching muscles and she melted into him. “That feels amazing. The things a guy learns in boarding school.” He stiffened behind her. “Bad experiences at school?”
“Just wondering what made you assume I went to boarding school.”
“I only answer if you keep rubbing.” A three-second delay and then he started kneading her muscles once more. Better.
Mercedes sighed against him. “It was a guess based on the T-shirt, the captain’s table on the first night, and the fact that you knew exactly what every piece of flatware on the table was for at dinner. That, and ‘boarding school’ sounded better than ‘The things a guy learns in the locker room.’”
Lucas chuckled quietly and she felt the tension drain from the body behind her. “No bad experiences per se, but it was a boys-only school, so it might as well have been the locker room. I did, however, have a girlfriend in college who was studying to be a massage therapist.”
“Tell her I said thank you.” She sank into him further and Lucas’s fingers dipped lower on the lace of her dress, his movements crushing it against the skin over her breasts. Why hadn’t she worn the strapless tonight? She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, sliding lower…teasing her nipples. Lower… “So what else did you learn to do with your hands at college?”
Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, just loud enough to be heard over the music, “Nothing, but I learned a whole lot of things to do with my tongue if you’d like to know more about that.”
At the thought, Mercedes’s insides tightened. The man was going to undo her right here in the club if she wasn’t careful—and without touching anything other than her damn shoulders. And her ass, if the erection pressing against it counted. Between its presence, his whispered innuendo, and his hands trailing down her arms to twine his fingers in hers, she wanted to turn around and mount him right here. “Yes. I want to know everything.”
He leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around another shot glass. “There is nothing I want more than to take you to my suite tonight and teach you every last thing I learned in college, but I know how much you hate the idea of me wasting money, so drink up.”
That. She wanted that very much, but Lucas wasn’t throwing back his shot like a man desperate for sex—regardless of the screaming erection—so Mercedes forced her breathing to slow down as she sipped the tequila.
Lucas ran his fingers through her hair to cup the back of her head and draw her closer. “Let’s play a game, shall we?”
His breath feathered over the shell of her ear, making her shiver as she asked, “What did you have in mind?”
“Unless I miss my mark, we’re both dying to get out of here. But, in my experience, anticipation only makes things more fun.” He brushed her hair back from her shoulder, his fingers trailing heat down the side of her neck. “Whoever breaks first and finishes their last shot
has to make the first move once we’re alone.”
“Is that all?” She reached for one of the glasses still on the table.
“And has to work a hundred hours for a charity of the other person’s choosing.”
Mercedes froze with her fingers on the glass, then let it go and reclined into Lucas’s arms again. She barely had time to sleep. As much as she appreciated the need for charity workers, she couldn’t take more time away from Better Todays to fulfill her own selfish needs—no matter how much she wanted to.
And damn, did she want to.
“But you already promised to help me with whatever the captain comes up with,” she argued. “Hardly seems fair.” She tried to calculate how many hours that would knock off what he suggested. Maybe it’d be enough that she could give his charity an hour a week for a while instead of a lump of time.
“In that case,” Lucas amended, “a hundred hours after we get off the ship. Fair?”
No. Not by half. Then again…with the connections he undoubtedly had in the city, Lucas could help a lot. Maybe enough that they’d be able to outbid Bellamy Enterprises on the property for the playground. Okay, not outbid, but at least make a solid bid first.
“Deal.”
Mercedes couldn’t believe how her nervousness built with every second. She stared at the shot glasses on the table in front of them while Lucas shifted behind her, his cock rubbing against her ass until her eyes practically rolled back into her head from want. He was torturing her, and it hadn’t even been that long since she’d gone to a guy’s place. She mentally ticked off months in her head. Okay, maybe it had been that long. But it only meant she was picky.
And dear God, Lucas was worth waiting for—just maybe not through this stupid bet.
Two could play his game though. Mercedes brought their twined fingers to her mouth and kissed the back of his hand. Forcing his hand open with hers, she trailed her lips along his index finger to gently kiss the tip. Then she ran her tongue out and, as he inhaled sharply, she took the digit in her mouth, sucking on it.
Seducing Her Rival Page 3