by Tori Scott
"Hey." Sam held both hands up in surrender. "No problem. Just being friendly."
"Yeah, well Angel isn't your type. How would you like it if I went after Reggie?"
Sam went deadly still. "Try it, and I'll break your arm."
Mitch smiled. "Now you know how I feel. Go sleep it off, Sam. And a word of advice? Try treating Reggie as a woman with feelings and not just your buddy or a one night stand. You might be surprised at the result."
Sam left the casino, a little more sober and a lot more frustrated. He'd tried treating Reggie like a woman and look where it had gotten him. Alone. He'd either hurt her feelings or made her mad. Maybe both.
Beebe was a lot less complicated. If he wanted sex, she accommodated him. If he wanted to be left alone, she was fine with that, too. If he didn't call her for a week, all he had to do was send flowers. If he made her mad, he could fix things with jewelry.
He had no idea how to fix things with Reggie.
***
Reggie tried to settle down in front of the television, but she was restless and frustrated. Should she have taken Sam up on his proposition? At least she could have made love with him. Only there would have been no love involved, and she didn't want sex for sex's sake--not with Sam. She wanted her first time with him to be special, meaningful. She wasn't a virgin or a prude, but she wasn't going to be a one night stand for him, either.
He was probably used to women falling into bed with him, hoping to snare him and his millions. But she didn't want his money. She wanted his heart. She wanted what Gray and Cara had found. Best friends and lovers.
She decided a swim was what she needed to work out the kinks and tire herself out enough to sleep. She took the pins from her hair and brushed out the curls and hair spray. Then she pulled out her swimsuits, choosing the one piece over the bikini so she didn't give anyone the wrong idea. She just wanted a quiet swim, not a seduction.
When she reached the pool, she was relieved to see it was nearly empty. She stepped into the water, finding it comfortably warm and inviting. Taking a deep breath, she dove under the water and headed for the other end. With every lap, she felt the tension easing. She kept going until she reached the point of exhaustion, then headed back to where she'd started. Before she reached the edge, she bumped into a pair of muscular male legs.
She came up for air, ready to apologize, when strong arms lifted her from the water and firm lips captured hers. She knew, even without looking, that it was Sam. And she put everything she had into the kiss. If she only had one shot, she'd make it her best.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. His arms went around her and he moved them through the water, away from the other swimmers. He backed her against the edge of the pool, never releasing her mouth.
When Reggie finally had to take a breath, he moved his mouth to her neck, to that sensitive area at the base that made goose bumps break out on her arms. Reggie squirmed and he lowered her into the water, taking her head in both hands and lifting her face to his.
"What have you done to me, Reggie?" he murmured against her lips. He parted her lips with his tongue and she tasted the bourbon.
She pulled back and looked at him. He looked like hell. And he was in the pool in his tux. "Are you drunk?"
"Not anymore." He tried to kiss her again, but she turned her head.
"Damn it, Sam. Don't do this to me. I can't take it."
Now he looked confused. And hurt. "Do what? You don't want me to kiss you?" He shoved a hand through his hair. "Hell, I don't know what you want. I keep getting these signals from you, but either they're all screwed up or my perception is."
He was right. She was sending mixed signals. This was as much her fault as his. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's happening here. I thought I made myself clear earlier tonight. I'm not looking for casual sex. I believe in, and I want, the happily ever after. If we're not on the same page, then I can wait for you to catch up."
"Can't I just kiss you? Can't that be enough for now? Who knows, maybe there will be more eventually, but how will we know if we don't give it a shot?"
"I don't know. I'm so confused."
"Well, hell. If you don't know, I sure as hell don't." He set her on her feet and turned away. "This was a mistake. We never should have come on this cruise."
He turned back, his eyes tormented. "I'm sorry, Reggie. I hope you can forgive me." He sloshed his way across the pool to the steps and dragged himself out of the water. Then he walked away with all the dignity of a crown prince--soggy tux and all.
Reggie slid down in the water until only her head was above the surface. Then she let the tears fall.
***
Mitch waited until Sam was out of sight before he stepped out from behind the potted palm he'd used for cover. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd followed Sam to make sure he made it back to his room okay, but he hadn't expected him to make a detour by the pool.
He knelt on the deck beside Reggie. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing. Is there anything I can do?"
She wiped her eyes with her wet hands, only succeeding in smearing her makeup. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.
She dried her face and took a deep breath. "Unless you can make Sam somehow miraculously fall in love with me, I don't think there's anything you can do."
He thought for a minute. "Maybe you and I can help each other."
Reggie looked up. "How?"
"I have an idea. Can you meet me in the Calypso bar in about half an hour? I should have the details worked out by then."
Thirty minutes later Reggie arrived at the bar dressed in form-fitting jeans and a red halter top. Several male heads turned to follow her progress across the room. Mitch stood and pulled a chair out for her, then returned to his seat. "Sam needs his head examined," he said, smiling at her.
"Don't I know it. He's carrying all kinds of outdated crap his mother taught him and using it like a shield against my unsavory influence."
"I think his shield is cracking, and he's feeling vulnerable. You're challenging all his belief systems and tempting him to throw out everything that makes him feel safe."
Reggie nodded. "I think he wants to sleep with me and it scares him to death. You said you had an idea? I'm all ears."
He ordered her a beer, then pulled out a notepad. "You and I are kind of in the same boat. I've been trying to get close to Angel for months, but she keeps me at arm's length. She's been hurt in the past--left pregnant at sixteen, giving her baby up for adoption. She doesn't think she deserves to be loved. She hates herself for what she did, and thinks the world should hate her too."
"Yeah, Cara told me what happened. Angel's always kept herself separate, never joining in with us, acting like she doesn't care about anyone But what does that have to do with Sam?"
"Well, Sam is a lot like Angel. He feels like he doesn't need or deserve love--probably because he's never really experienced it. From what Gray's told me, his mother was a cold, authoritarian woman. She never showed Sam any affection, and neither did his father. He was an heir, never a child. So he doesn't know how to deal with what he's feeling. Neither does Angel. I think she really does care about me, but…"
"But like Sam, she's afraid to. Afraid if she gives in, she'll lose you like she lost her son." Reggie drew a design in the condensation on the beer bottle, then tipped the bottle back and drank half of it. "So what is Sam afraid of?"
"I think he's afraid he'll lose the only real friends he's ever known."
"So how do we fix them, short of having them both committed for psychiatric care?" She laughed, but she was only half kidding.
Mitch leaned forward and took her hand, kissing the back of it. "We let them think they're about to lose the one thing they desperately need but don't yet know they want."
Reggie tugged her hand back and looked at him. "Is everyone around here drunk?"
He smiled. "I'm not drunk. That was for Angel's benefit. She's sitting back there in th
e corner, watching us."
When Reggie started to turn and look, he hissed, "Don't look. She doesn't know I know she's back there. I want her to think I'm giving up on her. Sam hit on her earlier, so it would be natural for her to assume I'm hitting on you."
"Sam did what?"
"He was drunk. Don't worry about it. He was trying to find a diversion, something to keep him from going after you. I set him straight pretty quick."
"I'm going to kill him."
"Listen, let's dance. It will give Angel something to get mad at me about." He tugged her up from her chair and onto the tiny dance floor.
"You want her mad at you?" Reggie shook her head. "You're crazy."
He pulled her closer and pressed her head against his chest. "Make this look good, okay? I'm not crazy. I need her to feel something, anything. Anger is a good start. If she doesn't care about me, she won't care about this."
Reggie lifted her head. "And if Sam doesn't care about me, he won't care if I'm seeing you."
"Exactly. So, do we have a deal?"
She snuggled back against his chest. "Deal. Till jealousy do we part."
***
Sam wasn't ready to go back to his room, but he stopped at his suite long enough to change out of the wet tux and put on a pair of the blue jeans Reggie had insisted he buy. He was surprised at how comfortable they were. Much better than the starched and pressed ones he had at home. He pulled a T-shirt over his head. It felt strange not to cover it with a dress shirt. Then he slipped his feet into a pair of tennis shoes and looked in the mirror.
He looked like a regular guy. Not a hotshot rich kid or the head of a foundation. Just Sam.
And he liked it.
He didn't like the direction his thoughts were taking, though. All he could think about was getting Reggie out of that wet swimsuit and into his bed. The alcohol fog was fading fast, replaced by lust like he'd never felt before. She's your friend, your pal. Not a one night stand. Remember that! But his body paid no attention to what his mind kept repeating. Friend or not, he wanted her.
Really, really wanted her.
He slammed the cabin door behind him and headed back to the pool. But when he got there, she was no where to be found. He went to her cabin and knocked on the door, but she didn't answer. She wouldn't be with Cara. Maybe with Angel? No, they didn't seem too chummy. So where would she be?
Maybe she'd gotten hungry and went looking for a late night snack. He headed toward the grill, and saw her as he rounded the corner. She wasn't alone.
Mitch. That sneaky bastard. He'd warned Sam away from Angel, then he'd gone after Reggie. And it looked like she didn't mind at all. They were strolling hand in hand in the moonlight, stopping occasionally to look up at the stars, laughing with their heads close together.
Sam's hands balled into fists and he took a step toward them. Then he stopped. What was he doing? Reggie wasn't his. She was free to hang out with whoever she wanted to. But what did Mitch have to offer her that he didn't? Mitch was a nice guy, but so was he.
So why was she out here in the moonlight with Mitch after refusing his advances? He'd never figure women out if he lived to be an old man. Well, some women were easy enough. Beebe wanted his money, a good match, and the resultant increase in social standing. No more, no less. No talk of happily ever after, whatever that was. No sending out come here signals, then pulling back and demanding some emotional involvement. She was beautiful, smart, accomplished, well-bred--everything his mother had told him to look for in a wife.
So why was he out here lusting after Reggie when he already had what he was looking for back home?
And why did he want to smash his fist into Mitch's face for stealing his girl?
***
Reggie woke up early the next morning, excitement and nervousness making sleep impossible. They were going ashore this morning, to Paris. She'd dreamed of seeing Paris someday, but it had never seemed like a real possibility. She was torn, though. Mitch wanted her to continue the charade and go ashore with him. She wanted to visit the city of lovers with Sam. And she'd promised Sam she'd teach him to have fun on this trip, and it didn't seem right to abandon him.
She'd finally gotten Mitch to agree to go as part of the group and let things work themselves out. It could turn out to be an interesting day.
She dressed carefully in a breezy sundress with spaghetti straps that showed just enough cleavage to be enticing without looking trashy, slipped a pair of comfortable, strappy sandals on her feet, then put on makeup--something she rarely did but was beginning to like. She liked how the shadow and mascara made her eyes look bigger and sexier. She liked how the blush emphasized her high cheekbones. And she liked how Sam couldn't seem to stop looking at her when she wore it.
She added a glossy layer of lipstick, brushed her hair until it shone and then caught it up in a sleek ponytail, and squirted her cologne into the air and walked through it. Cara had taught her that trick. It left just a hint of scent rather than overpowering. When she finished, she felt sexy.
Imagine that. She'd never thought of herself as sexy.
They met for breakfast, the entire group including Cara's mother, Angel, and Mitch. Mitch smiled at Reggie, then sat beside her before Sam could. Reggie smothered a grin at the look on Sam's face. He was furious with Mitch. All through breakfast he glared at him, in between trying to get Reggie's attention and trying--and failing miserably--to flirt with Angel. Angel kept looking back and forth between Reggie and Mitch as though trying to figure out what was going on between the two of them.
Even Gray and Cara looked confused. She'd have to find a private moment to fill them in on what was happening so they didn't try to intervene.
The city wasn't quite what she'd expected. There were familiar sights from home--the coffee shop you found on nearly every corner in Austin, the golden arches of hamburger joints. But it didn't lessen the excitement of seeing the Eiffel tower in person, or of roaming through the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa.
All thoughts of tempting Sam were forgotten. He was in his element, able to speak the language fluently, knowledgeable about the city and the people. He entertained them with lessons on the do's and don'ts of being a tourist in the city. Don't smile at anyone (they'll think you're flirting), don't apologize unless you've truly done something wrong, always hold the door for people, try not to drink enough that you'll need to use the restroom. Her first experience with that was enough to make her never want to use a public facility again.
At lunch, she was more than happy to let Sam order for all of them after he explained what some of the Americanized names for the French dishes meant. It was nothing remotely close to what she actually wanted. Though some of the people they encountered spoke English, most did not and those that did, didn't speak it well.
By force of habit, she fell in beside Sam as they toured the city, leaving Mitch to walk with Angel and her mother. A glance back reassured her when she saw that Mitch and Angel were in animated conversation as they pointed out various sights. Gray and Cara lingered farther back, hand in hand, oblivious to anyone but each other.
"I'm so glad you're here with me. Paris would be too intimidating without you," she told him as they strolled the Champs-Élysées, taking a few moments to shop for things to take back home.
"Paris is a beautiful city, but there's much more to see than you can fit into a day. You'll have to come with me next time I return for business. There are a number of tours you can take while I'm in meetings, then I can show you the night life."
He said it so casually, as though they were a couple. Reggie didn't quite know what to think. And then he took her hand, tucking it close to his side as they walked along.
"I don't usually spend a lot of time sightseeing, but I've been here so many times it feels like a second home. I want to show you the rest of it."
"I'd like that," she said. She really wanted to squeal and shout "Yes!" But she held on to the small measure of decorum she possessed.
As t
hey walked and talked, she finally began to see the real Sam. The Sam who cared about the children who didn't have enough to eat, both at home and abroad. The Sam who cared about people who didn't have access to clean water and health care. Maybe he didn't get in the trenches and see the reality, but he was aware it existed and did what he could to help.
She shared more of herself with him, too. More than she ever had before. Her hopes and dreams, her joys and her sorrows. They laughed until they cried over stories he told her about his first trips to Paris and the mistakes he'd made. And once, without warning, he'd hugged her and spun her around in circles.
If she hadn't already been in love with him, she would have been by the end of the most perfect day of her life.
Until they ran into Beebe.
They were browsing the outrageously-priced bags at Gucci when she called his name. A feeling of dread rushed through Reggie when she turned and saw her. Impeccably dressed, perfectly coiffed, and showing perfect teeth in a somewhat twisted version of a smile, Beebe crossed quickly to Sam's side, insinuating herself between Sam and Reggie. She kissed the air near his cheek, then held him at arm's length as though to be sure being in Reggie's presence hadn't soiled him somehow.
"What a surprise to see you here, Samuel. I wish you'd told me you were going to be in Paris today. We could have spent the day together." She looked at Reggie. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your little friend? She's darling. Wherever did you find her? Is she one of your clients' daughters?"
Sam winced and gave Reggie an apologetic look. "Beebe, I'd like you to meet Reggie…uh, Regina. She's an old friend of mine."
Beebe held out one hand, as though to shake Reggie's, but pulled it back quickly when she realized Reggie was about to actually touch her. "How sweet. Are you about finished? Maybe we could meet for dinner." She looked back at Sam, obviously not including Reggie in the invitation. "I'm staying at the Ritz, of course. How about nine o'clock?"
Sam looked at Reggie, then back at Beebe. "I can't. Reggie and I are with a group of friends and we're due back at the ship in an hour. In fact, we were just about to head back."