Justin could imitate just about anyone under the sun. He could even imitate a parrot imitating a human. This was his best Colin Firth voice, very British, very upper class.
“You wouldn’t be trying to poach on my territory, would you?” Justin didn’t allow the man to answer. “No need for you to bother my woman. Do be a good fellow and run along now.”
Mr. Bellows took to stammering when he was confronted with intelligence. “I didn’t know…she never said anything…I wouldn’t,” then he drew himself up like a pouter pigeon. “I am not the kind of man who goes about doing that sort of thing.”
“Jolly good. So glad we understand each other.” Justin walked toward me, leaving Bellows, his face slightly red, standing in the middle of the room watching Justin go.
Oh, boy. When Justin slid onto the chair next to me, it was all I could do to keep a straight face. This was the old Justin that I once knew, poking pomposity any chance he got. Under his breath he said, “God knows why I feel compelled to save you from that jackass. I should let you suffer the consequences of your actions.”
“So very parental of you. But…thank you, Justin. I’m not sure I could have faced another minute with him, let alone another day.”
“So you were doing it just to get my goat.”
I picked up a slice of toast and offered it to him. “And is your goat gotten?”
He took the toast and put it on the plate in front of him. “It must be. Otherwise why am I sitting here?”
“Why indeed?” I took a sip of my orange juice. Darn. No alcohol. I signaled for the waiter, who came to my side at once. “I believe I ordered a mimosa.”
The waiter was solicitous but not happy about being told he’d made a mistake. “No, miss, I’m quite certain…”
“It’s a little mistake easily rectified.” I was the perfect grand lady forgiving the servant. “Just take this away and bring me a mimosa.”
“You don’t drink,” Justin said.
That flat statement made me sound like the most inexperienced woman on the planet. Which of course I was.
He went on. “You don’t drink, smoke, do drugs or have sex. At least you didn’t when you were in high school.”
I looked at him incredulously. “That was thirteen years ago. Do you think I’m locked in some kind of time warp? That I haven’t changed since we were teenagers?”
“Well, do you?” He cocked one of those beautiful blond eyebrows.
“What?” If I played the misunderstanding card long enough, I might talk myself out of this black hole.
“Do any of the above.”
Much to my chagrin, he was right. I was exactly the same boring, always-do-the-right-thing girl I’d been in high school. Only because of Natalie. After she got sick, there was no time, money or inclination to find a suitable man. I suppose my love for Justin might have played into the whole scenario, too. There wasn’t a man in the world who could measure up to him. But darn it, he sounded so sure that I was exactly the same goody-two shoes he thought me to be, I decided to disabuse him of that idea.
“Of course I do. And here comes my mimosa. I’ll admit I don’t do drugs. Not possible in my line of work. I never cared for the smell of cigarettes. But sex? Now there is the area of my expertise. Ask me anything about sex and I can tell you the answer.”
And why not? I’m a registered nurse, right?
“I’ve sworn off sex lectures before breakfast,” he said, his tone droll, his mouth lifted in a half smile. “They tend to ruin my appetite.”
I loved that he was entering into the game. If he was dismayed by my confession that I knew all there was to know about sex, he didn’t show it. I said gaily, “I’ll drink to that.”
I took a sip and did my darnedest not to choke. The waiter must have taken out his temper on me. There was way more champagne than orange juice in that drink. Probably the waiter’s revenge for coming on the grand lady with him. He knew plebian when he saw it.
“Do you like it?” Justin leaned back in his chair, watching me with those eyes that made me feel as if they could see into my soul.
“Oh, yes, the drink is quite good….”
“I wasn’t talking about the drink.” He lifted one eyebrow and looked the quintessential challenging male. And too darn beautiful with it. “I was talking about sex.”
I thought of several responses, none of your business, that’s a personal question, what are my preferences to you, but instead I said, “Oh, I quite like it. Of course, a great deal depends on the partner.”
“I should imagine so.”
I hated that he sounded more and more amused. I was determined to knock that smile off his face. “A lot of women prefer to be on top, I know, but I find I get the most pleasure when I’m on my stomach and…”
His hand came down on mine, the one holding the drink. Mimosa slopped onto the table cloth. “That’s enough. I don’t need any more detail…” then as quickly as a sun coming out from the cloud, his anger changed to a sleek smile, “…no pun intended.”
Thank the saints above, because I didn’t have any more detail to give. I’d read that once in a book and it had stuck in my mind as being awkward, but both of the participants in the book seemed to enjoy it.
Suddenly, he reached for his handkerchief he had in his handy upper pocket and dabbed at his nose. “Lovely sight, isn’t it? Particularly at the breakfast table.”
He rose to leave but I caught his arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen more snotty kids than you can shake a stick at. Sit here and eat your breakfast. That leakage bothers you way more than it bothers me.”
“Funny. My family has always been kind to me, but no one ever put it quite like that.” He relaxed back. “Have you eaten?”
“No, just the mimosa.”
“You’d better have some food to soak up that alcohol.”
Why did this man bring out the devil in me?’ “I don’t want food to soak up the alcohol. I want the alcohol to soak up me.”
“I can’t deal with this at ten in the morning.” He grabbed my mimosa glass and set it as far away from me as he could.
“Never mind the mimosa,” I said. “I can act drunk. I do a good drunk.” I rolled my eyes for good measure and let my tongue loll out of my mouth. Some part of my brain told me that it was really stupid to look so unattractive in front of Justin, but I was in a crazy mood. I didn’t care what I said or did. I suppose being set free from the worrying responsibility of my sister after so many years was giving me a high that was more dangerous than a drunken state. Who knew what I might say or do?
“You don’t know zip about being drunk. A drunk person tries very hard to show he isn’t drunk. Like this.” Justin brought a piece of toast up inch by painful inch in an indirect line to his mouth. By the year he finally got it there, I would be ninety years old and covered in cobwebs.
“That’s not right.” I shook my head.
“That’s exactly right. Trust me. I’ve watched my brothers in their inebriated state too often not to know what drunk looks like.”
“How are your brothers, anyway?” Using slow deliberate motions, I slathered orange marmalade on another piece of toast, offered it to Justin and when he gave me the exasperated look, popped it in my own mouth. Over chewing, I said, “They own the world yet?”
“No, they’re smarter than that. They just own the pieces they can improve.” He took a napkin and dabbed at some marmalade on my chin. “Don’t want to drop anything on that pretty top of yours.”
At my aggravated look, he said, “I was talking about the top you’re wearing. Did it occur to you that we look like the Bobbsey Twins this morning?”
“Actually it did. What do you know about the Bobbsey Twins?”
“I know there was Nan and Bert and Freddie and Flossie. One family with two sets of fraternal twins. How unlucky is that? As for how I know about them? I used to read Mom’s old books to Lynn when she was down in bed with whatever. Lynn loved the Bobbsey Twins before she grew
into Nancy Drew. I was impatient with illness then. Didn’t want to be around anybody who was sick. Guess I’m getting my comeuppance now, huh?”
If there was anything guaranteed to burst the bubble of my euphoria, this was it. “Justin, for heaven’s sake. Do you think illness is some kind of punishment? It isn’t. For some people, it just happens. For others it’s brought on by a trick of fate…like yours.” I thought about seeing him in ER, lying there on that gurney, so white and still, as close to death as any human his age could be. Inexplicably, I got angry. I rose to my feet. “You’re darn lucky to be alive. I’ve seen people come in to ER looking a hell of a lot better than you did and an hour later they were dead. You’ve been given another chance at life. You should be thanking your lucky stars, not blaming yourself. Or anybody else for that matter.”
“My God.” He looked shocked. “I never thought about it before. You were there when they brought me in.”
“Yes, I was there. And I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. Make of that what you will.”
I didn’t run out of the dining hall, but I walked very fast. I had to get out of there before I did what I wanted to do, shake him till his teeth rattled. Didn’t he know how much his family must love him to do this for him? Didn’t he know how much I must love him to deep six every bit of pride I had to be here on this darned boat?
I was so mad I scanned the deck looking for shuffleboard or anything else I could do to work out my anger. And what to my wondering eye should appear but an aerobics class. From the sweat on these people, it looked as if it could only last ten more minutes, which was probably all I could do.
Chapter 6
Anne
The sweat the class wore must have come from the weather. The torture was endless. As you can imagine, my workouts consisted of hauling gurneys around and climbing hospital stairs. Not exactly good preparation for a class like this. I was about ready to creep away when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Justin come and lean casually against the railing. Oh, swell. I clenched my teeth and forced myself to continue, thinking I would never understand why people put themselves through this torture, when the leader, who weighed less than an Ormolu candlestick signaled it was time for a break. “Remember everyone, you need to run to cool down.”
I was going to run, all right, directly to my cabin and collapse on the bed.
Justin’s fingers grabbed my sweaty arm. “A little out of shape, are we?”
“Speak for yourself, John. I’m in great shape.”
“Yes, you are…just not aerobically speaking.”
“Good heavens. Was that just a compliment I detected coming out of your mouth?” Dramatically, I held the backside of my sweaty hand to his forehead. “Nope, no temperature. Must be the sea air.”
“Must be. How about you take a shower and meet me on the upper deck for lunch?”
“Is it lunch time already?”
“Not exactly, but you didn’t eat any breakfast and after that little display, you have to be hungry. They start serving in an hour and if you’re like most women I know that might be enough time for you to get ready.”
If he hadn’t turned me around and pushed me in the right direction, I might not have known which way to go. My head pounded, my knees shook. I wasn’t sure whether it was from the exercise or because Justin had made a date with me.
Inside my tiny shower, I let the water sluice over me and it did feel good. I came out and toweled off, thinking I should be devising some kind of strategy for the next hour and a half or however long it took for lunch, but my mind was a blank. All I could think of was that Justin had sought me out, and for some reason, he wanted to be with me.
To add to my good mood, the steward knocked on my door and handed me an email message. It was from Liz. Natalie had the transplant and it had gone very well. She was in recovery and her two nurses were there with her.
Feeling more buoyant than I had in a very long time, I dressed in white shorts and a turquoise top with tasteful sequins on it. As I came out of my cabin and climbed up to the Lido deck, I could feel that the air temperature was warmer now, a clear sign that we were closer to the tropics. The steward had said we would be at our destination tomorrow morning around seven o’clock.
Justin sat alone waiting for me at a round table under an umbrella, nursing a cup of coffee. His condition precluded any kind of alcohol. He rose when I approached and pulled out a chair for me. I didn’t know how to deal with his courtly manners. Especially when an undercurrent of challenge lay beneath them. He relaxed into his own chair and angled his body to stretch out those endless legs clad in white flannel, looking casual and at ease. Then he flashed a Cheshire cat smile at me.
My sixth sense told me to brace myself.
“Feeling ten pounds thinner?”
“Feeling twenty years older. My knees are still shaking.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“Thanks for the sympathy.”
“You don’t want my sympathy.”
The way he said those words in that dark voice with that direct look made a shiver go down my spine. I was in for it. I just didn’t know what ‘it’ was.
The waiter came. Without glancing at the menu, Justin ordered a cheeseburger with fries. By now, I was on high alert and could hardly concentrate on food, but out of habit, I ordered a spinach salad and iced tea. Determined to keep my cool, I reached for a roll and began to butter it.
What the heck. I would launch the first salvo. “Was there a special reason for this invitation to lunch?” I asked, trying for insouciance as I popped a bit of roll in my mouth.
“I was thinking I might as well have sex with you.”
That roll caught in my throat and I coughed, trying desperately not to choke to death. “Excuse me?”
“After all,” he looked quite at ease, as if he were discussing the weather, “wasn’t that what that aerobic session was all about? Giving me a glimpse of your lovely body in motion?”
“That aerobic session was to keep me from tossing you overboard.”
“Ah, yes, that’s right. I should be grateful to be alive. Well, I was thinking that since you are my paid…companion, why shouldn’t I have all the benefits your companionship can offer? You might as well be spending your time in bed with me, showing me all those new positions you know so much about…”
As if on cue, the waiter came with my salad and his burger. Without thinking, I stood up and threw my glass of iced tea in his face. For good measure, I caught up my salad and dumped it on his head. Then I grabbed the oil cruet and emptied it over the spinach leaves adorning his beautiful golden hair.
He just sat there, as if he knew he deserved every spinach leaf and every drop of oil.
In my iciest voice, I said, “Consider my companionship cancelled.”
Around us, there was silence. Then there were titters of laughter. Belinda in particular thought the whole thing very funny. I marched away, wondering how I ever could have fallen for such a crass man.
Later, when I reappeared on deck with a book in hand, determined not to let Justin or anyone else confine me to my cabin, there were whispers. My champion, Mrs. Rosenbloom, appeared at my side and settled into the chair next to me. Bubbles was resplendent in yellow bows today.
“You’re having quite a time with your young man, aren’t you, my dear?”
I closed my book very carefully. “He isn’t my young man. He isn’t even close to being my young man.”
“Oh, my dear. They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but let me tell you something. This old dog knows love when she sees it. And he loves you every bit as much as you love him.”
“You did see him at the lunch table wearing my salad, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. I don’t know what he said to you, but it must have been good. I have to admit I’m dying of curiosity. I’d love to know what it was.”
“It was about the worst thing a man could say to a woman.”
“Ah. Well, then yo
u did the right thing.” She heaved herself up out of the deck chair. “I’ve got to keep walking. I indulged in a forbidden muffin this morning. I don’t suppose a little stroll around the deck will keep it from landing on my backside, but I’ll give it a try. Don’t despair, dear. He’s worth fighting for.”
Easy for you to say, I thought as she ambled off, Bubbles trotting two to a minute beside her, her tail making that yellow ribbon waggle from side to side.
I read for a while, but the book didn’t hold my interest. Small wonder. I simply couldn’t get the horrible words Justin had said to me out of my mind. How could he be so cruel? Was it retaliation for the things I’d said to him?
I walked to the railing, hoping that the swish of the foaming water and the heat of the sun would calm me. Had he expected me to say yes and come chummily along to his cabin?
Then it came to me. He expected me to do exactly what I did. Well, maybe he didn’t expect the oil on top of the salad. But he knew, he knew, what my reaction would be. He knew he’d make me angry. I was getting too close and he was desperate to drive me away.
Tears came to the back of my eyes. Did he think himself so much less of a man that he didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone? Or had his bitch of a fiancée convinced him he couldn’t trust a woman again? Probably a combination of both.
Where did that leave me? What alternative did I have?
I only had one choice. I had to stick with him and at the same time, try like the devil to keep from showing him that he had my heart in his hand. If he chose to stomp on it, I’d stomp right back. But he wasn’t getting shed of me. Not till the end of this trip, anyway.
I stayed on the deck but I was tired of reading. A huge rock, probably not as high as one in a health club, but still a respectable ten feet up from the deck, had been set up as a rock climbing exercise. There were two men tackling that straight-up crawl at the moment. The queue of people waiting to participate in the exercise was fairly short. Idiot that I was, I decided to join them. When my turn came, I was strapped in to a safety device, given instructions and advised that if at any time I felt sick, I was to use the safety device to rappel quickly to the deck. Which of course made me feel instantly sick.
Wooing Justin: The Cameron Family Saga, Book Two Page 4