Not having known his true identity didn’t make her feel any better.
God, she wanted to throw up.
No. She wanted a shower more. She could still feel him on her. In her.
Maybe throwing up would come first after all.
In the bathroom, she splashed icy water on her face and rinsed her mouth half-a-dozen times. While the last of the water swirled down the drain, she fought against the thoughts threatening to spiral out of control. She raised her head and glared at herself in the mirror. “Get a grip. You are Mercedes Vega, and you have been through far worse than anything Lucas Bellamy can dish out. This isn’t even the road to Hell, much less the exit for your fiery pit. You have a job to do, and now you have a time line—a short one. Focus on that.”
But she didn’t know how.
One step at a time, Mercedes. She stepped into the shower and lathered up, letting the spray wash away all traces of Lucas.
Unfortunately, the reprimand she’d given herself brought back to mind the Hell she was trying to earn her exit pass from. The one she’d spent seven years trying to forget and, when that hadn’t worked, trying to forgive herself for.
She fought to blink back the tears, but the shower blurred around her and her mind refused to let go of the memory.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“The boy is crying. I mean, he’s bleeding…kind of a lot, and no one’s coming. Uh…should I do something?”
“Where are you, ma’am?”
Trees loomed and branches stretched toward where she lay huddled around the boy. This wasn’t fun anymore. “At the park…”
A stupid drug deal gone wrong had almost killed little Marco. She’d invaded a park and almost killed him.
Mercedes’s path in life had been decided that day. She needed this playground. Marco, who wasn’t so little anymore, and kids like him needed the playground. She and Kelsey had planned it so carefully. It was small enough they could have video surveillance over the most dodgy areas, and local parents had volunteered to help patrol it to keep it safe. It was out of the way, but they could make it work and they wouldn’t have to rely on the city to keep trouble out.
Small enough to protect and big enough to offer her redemption.
Kelsey had thought using a playground to absolve her guilt was ridiculous. Maybe it was. Even Mercedes recognized that building a place that would keep innocent kids safe—and fucked up troublemakers like herself out—wouldn’t change the past. But nothing else she’d done had helped her find any peace. She only prayed this could somehow atone a little for her sins and ease the shame she’d been carrying for too many years.
She swiped away tears with the backs of her hands and twisted off the shower, certain of one thing: she’d be damned if she was going to let Lucas Bellamy build anything else on that lot. Which meant she needed a plan. And she needed a partner in crime to figure things out.
With the towel wrapped tightly around her, Mercedes climbed onto the little balcony outside. She sucked in a deep breath of ocean air and—staying away from the railing—called up Kelsey’s number. Even if the rest of Mercedes’s brain wasn’t functioning at the moment, she knew for certain Kels could help. She’d know what to do.
“Hey. If you’re looking for Kelsey, she’s not here right now, but she left her phone behind, so… Hi. How’s the cruise?”
Mercedes nearly choked on her frustration. Eva most definitely wasn’t Kelsey. “The joys of caller ID. When will she be home, Eva?”
“That good, huh? My darling sister probably won’t be home until after work, which means at least eight to ten hours. What’s going on, Mercedes? I know you wouldn’t spend the money to call if there wasn’t a damn good reason.”
The money. Dios. This call was going to cost a fortune. “It’s nothing. Never mind. I—”
“You need help, and help answered the phone. I can play Miss Fix-it just as well as my big sis, sometimes even better. Now spill.”
Mercedes pondered hanging up. “I slept with a man last night, and it was a mistake.”
“That last part’s rarely true, but carry on.”
There was no way around it. If Mercedes wanted help, she was going to have to admit to everything. And she needed help. “First you must swear on everything you hold dear you will not tell your sister any of this.”
“Ooooh, I do so love secrets. I’m in. Kelsey knows nothing.”
“I slept with Lucas Bellamy.”
Eva let out a long whistle. “I stand corrected, that might have been a mistake. Did he suck in bed? I have this theory about the rich and famous…”
God protect her from horny people for the rest of her trip. “Your theory is wrong, but that’s not the point. I was supposed to arrange a fund-raiser, and he lied and said he’d help me. Then, before I knew who he was”— better to clarify that point up front— “I fell for his smile and pretty lies and had sex with him. I don’t know what to do about the fund-raiser now.”
“That’s easy. And you are so lucky you got me and not my sister, because she’d give you stupid advice.” Eva gave a long, dramatic pause that had Mercedes counting the seconds of wasted roaming charges. “He used you. You use him right back.”
Mercedes shook her head; this was the worst advice ever. “I am not sleeping with him again.”
“Screw him or don’t. Personally, I would, but do what you think is right on that account. What I mean is he said he’d help you. I’m guessing that part was fairly public. You call his ass on it and make him help. He runs a zillion dollar company and the man knows a thing or twenty about making cash. While you’re at it, see if you can’t get a little payback for last night. Turnabout’s fair play and all that. Make the jerk fall in love with you and then walk the hell away from him. It might even be enough for him to give you anything—even a crappy piece of overpriced land.”
Fall in love? Was she crazy?
A little ways out from the ship, a pod of dolphins started jumping from the water. Mercedes turned her eyes skyward, thanking God silently for the sign, because she sure as hell wouldn’t have seriously considered Eva’s advice otherwise. “You’re insane, and if this goes south, I am blaming you.”
“You know south is down on a map, right?” Eva paused, but this time only for a second before she burst into laughter. “If he goes down before this is over, I expect a thank-you card and flowers.” She hung up before Mercedes could respond.
And damn it if she wasn’t already thinking about Lucas Bellamy’s tongue in all the right places. No. Wrong. Very, very wrong.
Right?
Chapter Five
“Thank you again, Captain Roberts. I really appreciate the opportunity you’re giving me, and so do the children of Queens.” Mercedes shook his hand and fought the urge to pull away when he didn’t release her fingers. As friendly and attractive as the captain was, if she planned to pull this off, flirting with him was the last thing she should be doing—whether or not Lucas was in sight. And the ridiculous scheme working was an iffy proposition at best.
“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Vega. If I don’t get the chance before, I’ll see you Thursday night.” The captain brushed a kiss across her knuckles. When he’d done it at dinner, it had been charming. Now? It was too damn cultured. She didn’t want polite and gentle. She wanted the kind of guy to throw her up against a wall and break a piano by slamming her on top of it.
Wait. No she didn’t. She didn’t want that at all considering the package it came in. She needed to keep her head and play the game Eva had laid out for her. Get Lucas’s help and make him feel like an idiot when the dust settled. As long as she remembered that this was about the kids, she’d be fine. Really.
She didn’t need anyone trying to sweep her off her feet. Literally or figuratively. Especially Lucas Bellamy. Since she’d finally found her sea legs, she planned to keep them under her at all times for the remainder of the trip. Now she just needed to find Lucas and put Eva’s crazy plan into action—which mi
ght mean wrapping those same legs around his waist again. But only in the name of revenge sex.
She managed a polite smile at the captain before disentangling herself and winding her way toward the pools. The sports deck was as logical a place as any to start her search, especially on their first full day at sea. Strolling along the deck, she scanned the heavy activity zones. No Lucas.
She’d really hoped to stumble across him at one of the pools where she could make nice with him and soak up some sun at the same time. But there was still no sign of Lucas when Mercedes reached the beach pool. The ship was just too big and she didn’t know it well enough yet. With a thousand places he could be tucked away, she might never find him.
A lounge chair in the water opened up and she bee lined for it. Considering at the moment she was debating slipping a note under his door, she needed to figure out a better plan, and there was no harm in letting the water lap at her toes while she did it. Mercedes untied her sarong, draped it over the lounge chair, and eased her still-aching muscles onto it.
A waiter stopped by a few seconds later with an empty tray and flashed her a smile. “Good to see the extra drink yesterday didn’t do you in.”
Mercedes shielded her eyes as she tipped her head up. The waiter, Wilhelm by his nametag, was the same one she’d met upon boarding…and possibly the key to solving her problem. “Hello again. Please don’t regret giving it to me, but I ended up spilling the drink all over someone after I went inside.”
He laughed and squatted down next to her chair. “Ten minutes on board and someone deserved to have a drink thrown at him already? That has to be a record.”
She flinched, recalling the way Lucas had joked about how refreshing it was that she hadn’t thrown it. “No. He didn’t deserve that until today. Sadly, I had no booze in hand at the time. And I actually need to find him again. Any chance you can help?”
“Probably not. Too many people on board for me to be much more than an extra set of eyes, but I can get you a drink at least.”
Not the level of help she wanted, but at least it would dull her nerves a little. “Something fruity and intoxicating would be fabulous then.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be right back.” He pushed off from the chair and disappeared into the crowd.
Too bad Lucas wasn’t as good about popping in at the right moment as Wilhelm the waiter. At least he showed up with booze whenever she needed it.
Then again, the last guy who made a point of getting her what she “needed” hadn’t exactly been a knight in shining armor. The night after Marco’s shooting in the park, she’d had to deal with her boyfriend screaming at her for giving the police his name after he ran. The stupid deal had been Cole’s idea—see how the other half lived and buy there instead of having the drugs delivered. She’d been such a fool, falling for his money and sweet-talking only to have him turn around and badmouth the neighborhood. Only to have him shatter two lives into a million pieces with his idea of “slumming it.”
Cole had spent his tirade acting like she’d done something wrong when he’d been the one who took them to the park. He’d been the one who left Marco there to bleed to death. He told her he’d already lawyered up and in the next breath he’d said, “You’re on your own. I’m over my cheap Mexican whore phase. The only reason I stayed as long as I did was how much I liked to fuck your fine little ass. Until you figure out whose boots you lick to get ahead, you’re never getting out of that shithole you grew up in.” Then he’d hung up.
She shuddered at the memory, forcing a smile as Wilhelm brought her drink. He waved off her card. “Consider this a replacement for the one you spilled.”
“Thanks.” This time the smile was real. Why was it so much easier for her to accept Wilhelm at face value than someone like Lucas? Even if she ignored the property thing—which she could manage for all of about ten seconds if she tried really hard—she still found herself questioning what kind of person he was. Did he toss his money around and treat people as if they were disposable once he’d gotten what he wanted from them? What little she’d heard about him from Kelsey’s stalking of the competition for the property said yes, but other than the T-shirt and his ridiculous suite she hadn’t seen that side of him. And the only fact those things proved was that he had money to throw around. It didn’t tell her a damn thing about how he was with people. Was he show or substance?
Of course, there was the line of women he’d left in his wake. Now that she realized who he was, she remembered the stories from Page Six—the models, the socialites, the celebrities. She didn’t want to be another number he may or may not bother to keep in his little black book. And she sure as hell didn’t want to be one more rich guy’s punch line when telling sex stories to his equally rich buddies. There was no way she’d let Lucas break her heart and toss her to the curb.
But he hadn’t acted like that guy last night either.
Who the hell was Lucas Bellamy at his core? And what kind of wrench would it throw in her plans if she ended up finding out?
…
After a brief stop in the casino, all was once more right in Lucas’s world. He’d left the blackjack table a thousand dollars richer. Then he’d toured the upper decks to get a feel for the other suites. He needed to pitch them in the documentation for the fund-raiser and he wouldn’t do them justice sight unseen. While he preferred his suite on deck twelve to most of the others, there was more than enough room for a few dozen of the rich and semi famous to join him and raise money for the new hospital’s cancer ward.
And the entertainment options were amazing. As much as he thought he’d need the whole week to scope out the ship and make a decision, when he saw the ice rink on the lowest public level, he was sold. It would be the perfect venue to call in some favors from a few professional skaters he knew. They could join the cruise and stage a demonstration and lessons for the passengers as an extra fund-raiser. He tapped notes into his iPad as the elevator carried him to the sports deck.
With work done, it was time to forget about everything. He had a drink in hand as he wandered toward the beach pool to dip his toes in some saltwater, enjoy his beer, and relax in peace.
He’d managed step one but, as the warm water licked his ankles, the sound of a deep, throaty laugh chilled him all over. As if drawn by some irresistible force, he turned toward the sound.
Mercedes reclined in a lounge chair in a crimson bikini. The top put those glorious breasts on display in a way that had him salivating. A tiny curve of pale blue edged the deep red, only highlighting her olive skin even more. That was bad enough, but the bottoms were so tiny that they showed off the entirety of the rose tattoo he’d never managed to ask her about.
No. Damn it. He wasn’t going to wonder why one of the roses had thorns and the other didn’t. Nor would he think about the fact that she stood and started wandering toward him, with what appeared to be a strawberry margarita in hand.
“Lucas. Sorry about taking off this morning. I had an emergency vibration from Better Todays.” She tucked a cell phone into the bag slung over her shoulder. “Though I now understand the reasoning behind what you said during our very first conversation. So many women; so many drinks.” She raised her glass as if to throw it. He braced himself for the icy red concoction to hit, but Mercedes curled her lips around the straw and drew in a slow drink. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not one to waste liquor on purpose. Not even on the likes of Luc Bellamy. Besides, I’m not so afraid of you that I feel the need to publicly embarrass my only competition for the land in Queens. Not very sportsmanlike.”
So she had discovered who he was.
Mercedes might not be throwing the drink at him yet but he wasn’t about to antagonize her by opening his mouth. He knew how passionate she was about her charity—last night’s conversations had established that. And the wrong thing would likely spill out without him even trying.
Besides, he wasn’t following up on last night—no matter how much Rosie would have encouraged it. The last
thing Lucas wanted was a messy entanglement and, with the land in Queens standing between them, things with Mercedes had gotten more than messy.
“No pretty words this time? Huh. I was kind of hoping you had an opinion of me after the test-drive.” She shrugged and took another slow drink, watching him from under those ridiculously thick eyelashes.
Test-drive? But what about…?
“Either way,” she continued, “Captain Roberts was good enough to give us the use of Dazzles Thursday evening for the fund-raiser.”
The…fund-raiser? “Wait. What?”
“As I recall, you volunteered to help me out with organizing things. I assumed that was irrespective of how you felt after kicking the tires. Please don’t say that bit was just a line.”
Was she kidding? She had to be. With his eyes still glued to the drink in her hand, Lucas nodded, wondering when this day took a left turn into the surreal. He was walking away from Mercedes, wasn’t he? Putting their one night fling behind him. So why couldn’t he seem to move his feet at all? “That I did. And last night only cemented my desire…to help.”
She gave a dazzling smile and her fingers skated up his arm, further tipping him off-center. “Wonderful. Then I suggest you toss on your sandals and a T-shirt and we head down to check out the venue.” She turned and picked up her things from the lounger.
Her words started to sink in. She still wanted his help? Had she really gotten a call this morning and just bolted? He had a hard time believing it, but if she’d freaked out about who he was, why would she be back? “Now?”
She wrapped the bright floral sarong around her body and tied it behind her neck. “There isn’t a ton of time between now and Thursday, and considering we’ll spend a lot of hours off the ship for two of those days, we should probably get started. And I’d hate to keep you occupied with work all evening.” She dried her feet on a towel then tucked her toes into a pair of sandals the same red as her bathing suit. As she stood at the booth to turn in her towel, she glanced back at him. “Are you coming?”
Seducing Her Rival Page 6