Highlander's Need: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 4)

by Veronica Wilson

  Times went bad, though, and she never found out until it was too late. People ran out of spare cash and stopped buying yachts. Her dad kept it a secret that he was in trouble right up until her car was seized and towed right out of the student car park. All her friends saw, and she couldn’t even get a ride home.

  The house went too and, soon after, so did her mother. Her father never managed to recover. He explained to her that they had lost everything in a hostile takeover by a huge firm. He told her it was called RHC, and that the CEO was Bernard Ratner. Two days later, her father shot himself.

  This, at last, was her chance for revenge. Ratner Sr. had died five years ago, leaving his son Brett in charge. She had been forced to go to work instead of college after her father’s suicide so, naturally, she took jobs on yachts. When she heard that Brett had chartered a particular boat, she jumped ship and pestered Captain Samson to let her on his crew. She even pretended to be green and took a lowly position to ensure she got onboard. Then it was just a matter of waiting for Ratner’s charter to come round.

  “Miss Stephenson,” called Captain Samson. “Are you still with us?” Page jerked upright in her seat and nodded, finally putting down the paper with Brett’s face on it. “Mr. Ratner is paying for him and his friends to have a good time,” continued the captain. “He always brings his attorney Henry Osborne with him, and they said at reservation that there would also be three to five lady friends joining them.”

  “They landed in Aruba yesterday,” piped up Fiona, “and will be boarding at eleven this morning. Stewards, a last look over the guest bedrooms and facilities then into your whites for the charter’s arrival, please.”

  Page hopped to it with Lisa and Fiona as David called out instructions to his deckhands. The next three hours flew by as the stewards inspected the opulent master cabin with its huge central bed that gazed out through a panoramic ocean view, the three plush double cabins amidships, and the stern twin room. They ensured the three bars—one on deck, one in the lounge, and one in the formal dining room—were stocked with single malt scotch, good brandy, rum, and Dom Pérignon Champagne, and that the glassware shone. The deckhands scrubbed the decks and the hull and saw that the three wave runners and the speed boat were ready, while the stewards prepared the sundeck and the eight-person Jacuzzi. There was good reason that it cost upwards of $200,000 to charter this boat for a long weekend.

  The beautiful Caribbean sun shone down on the Persephone as she bobbed gently in her slip. The crew were lined up in their shining, starched white uniforms on the aft deck by order of seniority to greet the guests as they boarded. A black stretch Hummer pulled to a halt by the jetty. Page, standing in the middle of the group, watched 250lbs of dark skin covered muscle and dripping in gold step out of the back. He held out two helping hands. One was daintily taken by a tall thin blonde girl in a light summer dress that plunged to the navel, the other clasped by a dramatically made-up African-American woman with, Page decided, the most amazing boobs and butt she had ever seen, all crammed into the tightest booty shorts and t-shirt. Page noticed Graham staring open-mouthed. Mike noticed as well and kicked him, but Graham was not the only attending male paying close attention. Jay Money let each girl slip an arm through his and escorted them towards the boat.

  Next out was the bike racer. He really was quite small, probably only about five-foot-five, but perfectly proportioned. Page supposed that must be an advantage in his line of work, like a horse jockey. Giancarlo helped another slim blonde from the limo. This one was clearly a fashion model, at least six inches taller than him and dressed in a designer label shirt, shorts and sandals with those huge, round dark glasses favored by celebrities everywhere. They too linked arms and headed for the Persephone.

  Then came Henry, the plump lawyer. He seemed sweet and tried to assist a pretty Latino-looking girl out, only to lose his footing and end up with her steadying him instead. He smiled meekly at her and she seemed unimpressed. She could not have been much more than eighteen.

  Lastly, to Page’s surprise, it was another woman that climbed out of the Hummer. She was mid-height with amazing long black hair, dressed in a black jumpsuit open at the top to reveal impressive cleavage. When she took off her sunglasses the full force of her stunning Asian features—Japanese or possibly Korean—hit you with the impression of a woman who gets exactly what she wants, every time. As she stood impatiently by the car, Page could not help but wonder if this might just be the most attractive woman she had ever seen. Of course she was with him.

  Finally, Brett stepped out into the sun.

  Sliding his smartphone into the inside pocket of his linen jacket, Brett smiled his apologies at Anna as she tapped her foot on the wooden dock.

  “Business, darling,” he said. “God knows, if I didn’t take care of it, where would that leave us, eh?” He was being arrogant, and he knew he would be made to suffer later. But Anna only gave a quick smile and linked her arm through his. They had been dating three weeks. She was successful in her own right, devastatingly intelligent and beautiful, yet he felt very little for her. He had hoped his physical attraction to her would blossom into something more permanent, but it just did not seem to be going that way. This trip was supposed to be the setting for their first time together, but while certain aspects of the coming night appealed to him he just could not see anything real developing from it, and that saddened him.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered to him for what seemed like the twelfth time today.

  “I’m fine, darling,” he lied, also for the twelfth time. “I’m just a bit taken aback by the boat and this magnificent setting.” That last was no lie. The sparkling blue water, the golden sun beating down, the rows of different-sized white boats all bobbing in time against the antique wooden dock, and the sleek modern design of the Persephone, easily the biggest in the harbor, took his breath away.

  As they stepped up onto the yacht, Captain Samson introduced himself to Brett and Anna with a firm handshake and then passed them on down the line. Brett’s friends had all shaken hands with each crew member by the time they met the stewards. Fiona introduced herself by handing Brett and Anna each a glass of Champagne before presenting first fit and long-legged Lisa, who subtly fluttered her long eyelashes at Brett, and then Page. For a microsecond, he thought the blonde third steward was eyeing him up and down with pure contempt, only for her eyes to light up and a dazzling smile that he swore made his heart skip a beat to appear a second later.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ratner,” Page nodded her head to him, bowing her torso ever so slightly. Despite himself, Brett sneaked a peek down the front of her shirt when she bent forward. Anna sharply tugged his hand, pulling him to her.

  Fiona led them off on a tour of the boat, but Brett could not take his eyes off of Page. She stood with the other staff, smiling warmly at him every time she saw him staring at her, until he was pulled out of sight. Got him, she thought to herself.

  The Persephone had been underway for an hour, the guests were settling into their quarters, and Fiona and Page were helping Paul prep for lunch. Lisa stumbled into the galley, giggling.

  “Oh my God, I just passed by Jay Money’s room. All three of them are fucking like mad!” she squealed. “You can hear that black girl moaning and that skinny blonde screaming right up on the sundeck.”

  “Well, they’re paying guests. No harm in them enjoying themselves,” said Fiona absently, concentrating on paring a cucumber for the salads.

  “Speak for yourself, Fiona,” cried Lisa. “If I have to listen to any more, I’m either joining them or I’m gonna need that cucumber and a ten-minute break in my bunk!”

  “Oh, how crass! You are a filthy bitch, Lisa!” teased Paul.

  “Look who’s talking!” she teased him back.

  Here we go again, thought Page, having seen this scene play out before.

  “Can’t you just stop being gay for a second and do me a favor?” Lisa cornered the chef against the walk-in freezer, where he mime
d shock and panic. “Please, Paul, me so horny!” She flipped around, lifted her skirt and exposed her thong-wearing behind. “Pleeease...” she whined, “just for a second... It won’t hurt a bit, I promise!”

  “Do you see this, Fiona? This is sexual misconduct of the highest order!” wailed Paul, as Lisa ground her butt against his crotch, “Vile temptress! Get thee to a nunnery!”

  “That’s enough, Lisa,” scolded Fiona, though she was smiling.

  Lisa pouted and made herself decent. “It’s still not fair, though, is it?” she pouted. “We slave away for them, no booze, no sex, while they get to have the time of their lives.”

  “Just think about that fat tip waiting at the end, darling,” reassured Paul, before rushing over and diving into one of his ovens. “Dozy cow, you nearly made me burn my meat!” he pulled out a lightly smoldering tray of pork cutlets.

  “I thought that was what she was begging you for,” quipped Page, and the other three burst out laughing again.

  “Well, someone’s got an admirer,” said Azure from the galley doorway. They all jumped a little.

  “Christ!” breathed Paul, indicating desperate heart palpitations. “How long have you been there? I hate when she does that.”

  “Who?” Page asked Azure, ignoring Paul’s theatrics. “Lisa found another heart to break?”

  “No, silly,” said Paul. “We all saw the way the primary was looking at you.”

  “Yeah, he didn’t even see me,” complained Lisa. “Which is a pity. He’s hot. I’d jump him in a second.”

  “Of course you would, darling,” Paul teased again. “Right, this is too much! I see I’m going to have to take one for the team. C’mon, Lisa, you’re disturbing everyone. We are going into the freezer to sort you out. Back in five, Fiona darling, just make sure there’s a hot towel and a fresh Appletini ready for me when I emerge.” He grabbed Lisa’s wrist and made to drag her off as she fanned herself and made “oh my!” noises.

  Page appeared to be watching her shipmates mess around and laughing with them but, inside, she was thinking hard. He really did seem to like me as soon as he saw me; no one’s ever done that before. He is very good-looking... Come on, Page! Stop it! Him, his family, and all his greedy, arrogant kind are the reason you lost your father, lost everything.

  But what was she going to do for this revenge? She had never quite planned that far. She’d dismissed hurting him in any physical way. Even though she was angry enough, she was not that kind of person. Maybe she could ruin him, like he ruined her life? Get close with him, tear her clothes and cry assault? Sleep with him and cry rape? Technically, neither of these scenarios seemed that difficult to set up, but she was pretty sure she would not be able to go through with actually having sex with him. Besides, he probably had an army of high-priced lawyers that could make issues like that disappear. The untouchable rich.

  So she settled for honesty. She would make him see exactly what misery he had inflicted on her. Make him feel responsible for the death of her father, for her mother abandoning her. If he really was in love with her, she could leave him with a broken heart. If he was so cold inside that he couldn’t care less about her or her plight, at least she would have confronted him. He would have to add it to his pile of other dirty deeds until he was judged by his maker.

  Brett undid the buttons on his shirt but lay down on the enormous bed without taking it off, the material of the shirt spreading around him as he lay looking up at the finely carved wooden ceiling. Anna was in the bathroom, the ocean gently was gently rocking him, and he almost managed to name the tune that was being hammered out by Jay and his two companions’ rhythmic grunting and moaning in the cabin to the stern. And he could not get her face out of his head. The way the sun danced through her golden hair, the way her big blue eyes burned deep into his soul, the way she softly chewed her bottom lip while she listened to other people talk, all of it intoxicated him.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Anna from the doorway of the en-suite. Brett sat up on his elbows and looked at her. She wore a long, sheer black beach gown, open to reveal a tiny black bikini. He felt a distinct tingling sensation in his loins as his eyes traveled up her toned leg, over the pathetic scrap of cloth that barely hid her sex from the world, across her flat yet supple stomach, lingering on her full rounded breasts—also just hidden by a narrow strip of material that covered her nipples and left nothing else to the imagination—up to her determined yet beautiful face.

  “Just you, babe,” he lied again. She smiled and walked slowly towards the bed, each movement smooth and drawn out, until she climbed up and crawled onto his lap, never losing eye contact. She straddled him and pulled his mouth up to meet hers. Brett felt the softness of her pushing against the hardness of him. Anna broke off her kiss with a sharp intake of breath as she ground herself intimately against him.

  “I’ve been waiting for this,” she whispered breathlessly in his ear. From the other room, the ecstatic cries of Jay’s blonde girlfriend seemed to reach a crescendo, and then it went quiet. Anna smiled down at Brett as sudden, urgent and loud moans from Jay’s other playmate rang out with renewed vigor. “Mmmm, don’t you wish you could be in there? Aren’t they turning you on?” she asked him softly. For a second, Brett pictured Jay’s big black butt bouncing up and down in front of him.

  “Honestly, no,” he smiled. “But I know what you mean.” They kissed again, her tongue urgently exploring the inside of his mouth. She reached down to open his fly, but he grabbed her wrist. She broke off the kiss and gave him a concerned look.

  “Are you okay, Brett?” asked Anna, feeling insecure for probably the first time in her life.

  He gave her a quick kiss, “I’m fine, babe, I promise. I’m just... it’s just... I wanted our first time to be perfect. You know, champagne.” Anna started to smile again. “Rose petals, massage oils, that sort of thing. Not screwing while we listen to Jay constantly banging his hoes.”

  “That’s sweet,” replied Anna, before putting her mouth by his ear again and hissing gently, “It just makes me want to do even more naughty things with you than ever.”

  “Awesome,” stammered Brett, and scrambled out from under her. “I’ll get changed and we can spend the afternoon drinking and lying in the sun, kissing and building the tension until tonight.”

  Anna grabbed his still hard penis through his slacks. “I think we’ve built up enough tension, personally, but I like your thinking.” She let him go, picked up her shades and swept out of the room in one fluid movement.

  Brett collapsed back on the bed, the vision of Page filling his head once more. The fuck am I doing...?

  Captain Samson dropped anchor far enough out to sea that there was no land in sight. The sun beat down on the yacht as the guests had lunch. Page served salmon mousse and lobster tails with a quinoa, mango, and truffle oil salad, while Fiona kept them topped up with white wine and champagne. Lisa took her lunch break at this time so she could cover after lunch while the other stewards ate.

  Jay Money and his girls sat together. The blonde, who turned out to be Jessica from Santa Monica, and the African-American girl, who called herself Coco and was from Long Beach, never sat together, Page noticed. They always kept Jay between them. She wondered if they had sex that way too.

  Brett sat next to Jessica, beside Anna who, unlike Jay’s girls, felt it decent to throw a wrap over her skimpy bikini for the meal. Although she was well-formed and her sky-blue bikini top and thong were tiny, Jessica did not have an overabundance of T and A to flaunt. On the other hand, Coco’s purple thong disappeared completely in her full but firm derriere, while the tiny twin triangles up top were not even large enough to hide her nipples, and edges of dark-skinned areola clearly peeked out. Page was thankful that all the deckhands were working below-deck and preparing the water toys. Otherwise the men would have been likely to embarrass themselves.

  Across from Jay sat Giancarlo and, like a gentleman, he was managing to not stare at Coco’s boobs t
oo much. His fashion model girlfriend, Antonia (also from Italy) was seated beside him in her big sunglasses, tastefully covered like Anna by a dark green, sheer wrap.

  Next to her was Henry, laughing along with Brett and totally failing to make his companion, the young and pretty Valentina, feel like one of the gang. She pouted and played with her food.

  After a long afternoon of playing with the jet-skis, water-skiing and lounging in the sun, the guests were served their evening meal up on the sundeck by Lisa and Fiona. Meanwhile, Page ate chicken and rice in the crew lounge. She had pulled the evening shift and was to sit up with the guests, serving drinks and nibbles as required, until the last one went to bed. Paul was busy and the deckhands had already eaten, so she sat and chewed by herself. It was bound to be a long night, but it could be an ideal opportunity to at least start reeling Brett in. If she could get him away from that Asian goddess he was with, that is.

  After dinner was over and she was left by herself with the guests, it looked as though it might not be such a long night at all. Henry was doing shots of tequila with Jay Money and Coco and had to retire before long. Valentina helped him to his cabin but did not look happy about it. Giancarlo now had Antonia and Jessica leaning against the ship’s rail, posing for his camera in front of the glorious sunset. They had Page pose with them for a few shots, and Giancarlo was over the moon, rabbiting in his Italian accent about his three gorgeous blondes. As the shutter kept clicking Antonia and Jessica began kissing each other passionately and Page, not wanting to get caught up in this, excused herself back to the bar.

  Jay and Coco soon slinked off together, while the blonde-on-blonde makeout session was getting so heated that Page had to politely suggest they retire for more privacy. Giancarlo was more than happy to escort them below deck.