“How dare you,” she spat, having had a few seconds to regroup.
“He’s right!”
Duncan’s voice growled over her right shoulder, and spinning around she stared up into his puzzled eyes.
“I know I am,” the young man declared, happy to have received backup from such a debonaire stranger, “but thanks for saying so. Hi, I’m Edgar Burns. I guess, uh, you’re her date…uh… so…”
“Duncan Rhys-Davies,” Duncan said quickly, his manners dictating he return the introduction, “and no, I’m not her date, but I would like a private word with her, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, yes,” Edgar replied, suddenly feeling awkward. “I’ll just…uh…go away.”
“Duncan,” she breathed, “why are you so upset?”
“As I just told him, I’m not your date, I’m just someone you like to play games with.”
“That’s not true,” she replied urgently, “it’s not.”
“I didn’t know what to do about your little act, Brittany, but I-”
“Act?” she interrupted.
“I have to admit,” he continued, ignoring her interruption, “you did succeed in making me realize two very important things, and if you want to hear about them you can come back to my cabin,” he finished, and turning on his heel he moved quickly away.
“Cool, I love that guy,” the young man mumbled, strolling back up as Duncan made his exit.
“Oh, piss off,” she barked.
Grabbing her jacket she slipped off the bar stool and hurried after him, knowing he’d already disappeared out the door. Stepping into the cool night air she looked around frantically, and seeing no sign of him she walked briskly to the elevator, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for it to arrive.
“Need some company?”
Thinking it was the annoying young man she spun around, ready to bite his head off, only to discover it was the blond from the restaurant the night before.
“You look dressed to kill,” he grinned, his green eyes twinkling down at her.
The ding of the elevator announced its arrival, and much to her dismay, when she stepped inside he followed.
“I’m just, uh, no, I don’t need any company,” she stammered, pushing the button for her floor.
As the door closed she realized she shouldn’t have entered the cab, and tried to hide her nervousness.
Don’t act afraid. Keep calm, it’s only a few floors, he won’t try anything, not in here, it’s too public.
“Don’t worry, I’m not an axe murderer,” he smiled. “I understand why your boyfriend had me kicked out of The Mermaid last night. I would probably have done the same thing. I honestly didn’t mean any harm, I just thought you looked stunning and I couldn’t take eyes off you.”
“You tried to meet me when I was walking back to my table,” she said sharply.
“Yes, I did, and I’d do the same thing again,” he admitted. “A guy has to take the chance when he can.”
“Whatever,” she sighed, glad he appeared to be less threatening than she’d thought.
“I’m surprised to see you out by yourself, my name’s Dylan, by the way, Dylan Cross. I promise you, I’m a complete gentleman, and I’d be honored if you’d let me buy you a drink sometime, or just coffee if you want.”
The elevator came to a gentle stop, but before she stepped out she looked up at him.
“Your apology is accepted,” she said, her tone a little friendlier.
“I’m in Cabin 42C, if you have a mind to contact me.”
“I won’t,” she replied, “and I have to go.”
“Can you at least tell me your name?” he pleaded, sporting a puppy dog look.
“Sure,” she sighed, stepping into the hallway. “Brittany, Brittany Carter.”
She watched the doors close, then headed to Duncan’s cabin, and reaching his door she took a deep breath. Things had not gone as she’d hoped, not at all.
Expect the best, prepare for the worst. That’s what Daddy always says, so that’s what I’m going to do, and raising her hand, she knocked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He was standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, looking as if he’d just lost his best friend, and a cold shiver sent a chill down her spine.
This isn’t good. Whatever he’s going to say, it isn’t good.
“Duncan,” she stammered, “what happened was-”
“Don’t bother,” he said quietly, lifting his gaze from the floor and looking across at her. “I told you I realized two things tonight, and I’m not going to do a tap dance about them. The first…you tried to manipulate me again, just as you did when you decided to sneak into my room so I’d spank you-”
“Yes, but I-”
“Be quiet,” he barked, “stop with the constant interruptions.”
Brittany saw his fury, but she also saw hurt and disappointment; feeling weak and small she moved quickly to the nearest chair and sat down.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“You wanted me to feel concerned and protective, you wanted me to be worried and to react, well, Brittany, you succeeded. That’s exactly what happened, and I realized I cared for you far more than I’d allowed myself to believe. In my panic that you might end up in trouble, I saw just how much you have come to mean to me. Your plan worked, Brittany, it worked brilliantly.”
“It did? You do?” she breathed.
“Unfortunately for us both, there was a second realization, and I’m afraid it voids the first.”
I sound as if I’m in courtroom, as if I’m summing up.
Because that’s what you’re doing. Because if you didn’t do it this way, if you spoke from your heart, you’d never get the words out.
“What second realization?” she breathed, terrified of what he was about to say.
“Even if I was prepared to be with you for the rest of the cruise, and see where things might go once it ended, how can I? As much as I’m drawn to you, as much as I think about you all the time, and as much as I’ve come to care for you, how can I be with someone so conniving, someone so sneaky? How can I trust a person like that? The simple answer is, I can’t.”
Brittany stared at him, a deer in headlights. There was no defense, but as his words jangled through her, she had her own epiphany, and before she could stop herself she jumped from her chair.
“So you’re judge, jury and executioner?” she demanded. “How else was I supposed to help you see how you felt about me? I know what’s in your heart, Duncan Rhys-Davies, I know you’ve fallen for me just like I’ve fallen for you! The difference is, I can admit it.”
“Now steady on-”
“No, you’ve been on the soapbox, now it’s my turn. You know what I think? I think you’re the coward, I think you’re the one whose not brave. You got hurt a long time ago, and you’re still afraid to jump back in. We all get hurt, it’s part of being alive, and none of us get guarantees on anything. You’re using my attempt to put you in touch with your feelings as an excuse to say you don’t trust me, and therefore can’t be with me,” she railed. “You know what, that’s fine. You don’t want to be with a scheming, conniving woman? A woman who uses her wits, who’s resourceful and tenacious, and won’t give up on a man she’s crazy about? Well, Mr, High and Mighty, I don’t want to be with a coward, or an idiot who can’t see the forest for the trees, so I guess that makes us even. Have a nice life!”
Spinning around she stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Stunned, Duncan stood completely still, then breaking from the trance moved to the bar and poured himself a shot of scotch.
What the hell just happened?
She just told you off, that’s what happened.
Bloody hell, is she right? Am I a coward? Is that why I stopped things? Was I using her behavior as an excuse?
Maybe you were. Maybe she’s exactly right.
What have I just done?
I think you just blew it.
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Bloody hell.
Three doors down Brittany was sitting on her couch, sobbing into a pillow, furious, angry, hurt, disappointed, and completely confused.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s the man of my dreams. He’s handsome and tall and sooo British, and he’s strong and…and…FUCK! What’s wrong with me, why did I pull that crap? He might have come to his senses all by himself. I just want to kill myself. I can’t believe it.
Charging into her bathroom she started the shower, then changed her mind, then paced, then splashed water on her face, then stared at her reflection in the mirror.
I can’t stay locked up in here, I’ll go crazy. I’m going back up to The Seven Seas.
She was about to head out the door when a thought struck her, and reaching for her phone she dialed Cabin 42C.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hi, this is Brittany Carter. I met you in the elevator a little while ago.”
“Brittany, this is a pleasant surprise. Your timing is perfect, I just popped back to my cabin for something. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
His voice was mellow, nondescript, and she guessed he was from California.
“I’m going back up to The Seven Seas for a drink. I know this is a bit weird, but…”
“You’d like some company?”
“Yes, I would, if you’re interested.”
“I am most definitely interested,” he smiled through the phone. “I’ll meet you there. You can cry on my shoulder, or dance on the tabletop, either way I’m good.”
“Thanks, Dylan, I’ll see you soon,” and I’ll bet you’re good for just about anything. I’ll bet you can be the quiet, sweet guy, or the life of the party.
Moving back into her bedroom she took another look at herself, pondered changing, then throwing up her hands, no longer caring, she headed back up to the bar.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“That drink really helped,” Brittany smiled, “you were right, I do feel better. In fact, feel better than better.”
“See, Uncle Dylan knows how to take care of you. Just leave everything to me. I’ll make sure you forget about that joker in no time.”
“Thanks for all this,” she sighed. “It’s nice to have a new friend.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to have a new friend too,” he replied, placing an arm around her shoulder.
“I suddenly feel a burst of energy. Do you want to kick up your heels a bit?”
“I’d love it,” he grinned, and grabbing her hand, he led her on to the dance floor.
Watching from across the room, Edgar Burns shook his head, then grimacing, made a profound decision.
When Brittany had first reappeared he’d been delighted, but when he’d seen her hurry across the room to join Dylan Cross, Edgar’s heart had sank.
Dylan Cross was bad news, and even though Brittany had been rude to him, Edgar certainly didn’t want her to become another one of Dylan’s victims, but he was powerless to intercede.
Dylan was tough, and Edgar knew he was no match for the tall, athletic, powerfully built jock. As he’d watched Dylan charm her, and continue to buy her drinks, he was afraid if he didn’t act soon it would be too late, and there was only one person he could think of to call for help.
At loose ends, Duncan was reading through his manuscript again, hoping it would take his mind off Brittany and the accusations she had leveled at him. When his phone rang he almost didn’t answer it, but reaching across he found himself hoping it was her, and hoping it wasn’t.
“Hi, is this Duncan? Duncan Rhys-Davies?” Edgar asked.
“It is?” Duncan frowned, not recognizing the voice.
“Hi, this is Edgar, we met at The Seven Seas bar a while ago.”
“Yes, I remember,” Duncan replied, curious why the young man was calling him.
“I know this is none of my business, and maybe you don’t even want to know about this, but, your friend, Brittany, I think she might be in a bad situation.”
Duncan’s immediate thought was that Brittany was pulling another stunt, and that she’d somehow persuaded Edgar to play along, but before he could respond, Edgar continued speaking.
“There’s a guy on the ship called Dylan Cross. You might have seen him around, he’s blond, good-looking, kind of smooth.”
“What about him?” Duncan frowned, beginning to feel that something might, indeed, be wrong.
“Well, uh, I’ve heard that Dylan’s kind of a shady character. He takes these cruises all the time, for uh, various reasons. Anyway, he’s bought her a lot of alcohol. She’s really out of it.”
“What do you mean, out of it?” Duncan asked.
“She’s carrying on a bit, acting weird. I wouldn’t have bothered you except…Brittany seemed like a nice person…even if she was rude to me, and you seemed to care about her, and I can’t tackle Dylan, not in a million years,” he admitted. “Sorry, I didn’t know what else to do. Probably shouldn’t have called, probably none of my business, probably should just hang up and go back to my cabin,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling completely embarrassed.
“Edgar, no, wait, you did the right thing,” Duncan said quickly. “Do me a favor, go back in, and if they leave please follow them, then let me know where they end up. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Oh, that’s great, thanks, Duncan, thanks. I thought you’d come through.”
Duncan hung up the phone and shook his head. His need to help her overwhelmed him, just as it had earlier, but this wasn’t Brittany manipulating him, this was Brittany truly in trouble. She needed him and he wasn’t going to let her down.
He stood up and paced, trying to determine the best course of action. Mr. Smooth wouldn’t give her up so easily, and he didn’t want a big scene, and he also wanted to teach Brittany a lesson.
Acting out and putting yourself in a compromising situation needs to have consequences, and…wait…what am I saying?
Give it up. She’s back in your life. She probably never left. You would have found a way to get back together before this boat docked and you know it.
Shaking his head he picked up the phone and called Joe, grateful that his steward answered immediately.
“Good evening, Mr. Rhys-Davies. How may I be of assistance?”
“I need you to call the manager up at The Seven Seas,” he said slowly, thinking on his feet as he spoke. “Brittany Carter is there, and apparently she’s with a man by the name of Dylan Cross. Are you familiar with him?”
There was a pause on the end of the phone, and Duncan could sense Joe wasn’t sure how to respond.
“He is another first class passenger, but not one of my guests,” Joe replied diplomatically.
“The thing is, he was making Brittany uncomfortable when we had dinner at The Mermaid last night. You can call over there and they can fill you in, but I’m heading up to The Seven Seas to get Brittany and bring her back.”
“I see,” Joe said slowly.
“I don’t want any trouble, so the manager there needs to know what’s about to happen. Sadly we had a bit of a tiff and she left here upset. Apparently she ran into this Dylan fellow, and he’s been buying her drinks. I am concerned she may be in a spot of bother with this chap.”
“Yes, I have heard rumors about Mr. Cross” Joe said carefully “and if Miss Carter is particularly vulnerable…we’re not supposed to get involved in personal situations like this, but in this instance I will make an exception. I’ll call the manager right away. His name is Peter Abrams.”
“Thank you, Joe. Please tell him I will be taking her out of there in a rather unceremonious way.”
“Unceremonious?” Joe repeated.
“Yes, it will be very determined, and it should prevent this Dylan fellow from attempting to get in my way.”
“I’ll call Peter right now, and I’ll swing by myself in case you need me.”
“Thank you, Joe, I appreciate that,” Duncan replied, surprised by the offer.
“If
Miss Carter were my sister, I would prefer she not be spending time with Mr. Cross, so I’m happy to help.”
Hanging up the phone, Duncan hurried out the door and up the stairs.
I can’t believe I’m doing this for the second time tonight, and how the hell did she end up with him?
Reaching the lounge he paused, took a deep breath, and pushing open the door he slowly entered, spotting them immediately; they were cavorting on the dance floor, impossible to miss.
Brittany was clearly strung out, lounging all over Dylan, then she suddenly jumped back and provocatively wiggled her hips. To Duncan’s fury Dylan grabbed her bottom and pulled her back, then began grinding himself against her. Duncan watched, his anger building, as she burst into fits of laughter before pulling away and spinning around.
Good grief, this is so much worse than I thought.
“Really glad to see you.”
The voice startled him, and turning around he found Edgar standing behind him, and over Edgar’s shoulder he spotted Joe walking through the door.
“Mr. Rhys-Davies,” Joe frowned as he approached, “I see things are a bit out of control. Peter will be joining us…ah, here is now,” he remarked, nodding towards a well-dressed man moving towards them from the bar.
“Peter Abrams,” the man said, extending his hand and shaking Duncan’s. “I was about to do something about this myself when Joe called.”
“I’ll take care of the young lady, if you would keep Dylan Cross at bay,” Duncan requested.
“Shouldn’t be an issue,” the managed assured him. “Mr. Cross and I are acquainted. I’m sure he wants to continue to be welcome in this lounge.”
“Good to hear,” Duncan replied, and taking a deep breath he headed on to the dance floor, Joe and Peter following closely behind.
Dylan, fully in control of his faculties, saw the trio approaching, and immediately sizing up the situation he stopped dancing and stepped back.
“Hey, no trouble,” he declared, raising his palms, “take her back, she’s all yours.”
Joe and Peter escorted him to his table, leaving Duncan to deal with Brittany, who, lost in her drunken state, continued to gyrate furiously to the loud music, wiggling and laughing, blissfully unaware that Dylan had left.
THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE Page 12