Home > Shattered by the CEO (The Payback Affairs #1)(15)

Shattered by the CEO (The Payback Affairs #1)(15)
Author: Emilie Rose

“You tell me.” She tilted her head and her new dangly gold earrings tapped the sensitive spot on her neck—the one that drove her wild when Rand grazed the skin with his teeth. She couldn’t wait for him to do it again, and if this trip went according to plan, he’d do so often.

She’d dreamed about strolling hand in hand on the beaches during the day and on the deck by moonlight, quiet dinners and sharing his bed.

They hadn’t been intimate since that night she’d pleasured him. Instead of spending quality time together this past week they’d had an endless series of meetings with the executive staff during the day, and he’d spent evenings in his bedroom working on his laptop. They probably hadn’t had two hours total of private face time since Monday morning. That didn’t mean she hadn’t been aware of his every movement both at home and work.

She was counting on the forced togetherness of the cruise making it impossible for him to keep his distance. “I’ve never cruised before. I can’t wait for you to show me the ropes.”

Cruising wouldn’t be the only first she’d shared with him, but telling a commitment-phobic man she’d been a virgin before they’d slept together that first night hadn’t seemed like a good idea at the time. She was pretty sure the revelation would have ended not only their evening but also their relationship.

His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you the one who claimed the discounted rates made cruising affordable?”

“I’ve never had anyone to go with.” Except him. “My mother was afraid of the water and Nadia wasn’t interested.” She dug in to her carry-on and pulled out the cruise materials. “We need to sign up for our shore excursions.”

His frown deepened. “I’m here to work, not play. You’re here as camouflage. You’re on your own except for the lifeboat drill and dinners where we’ll need to present ourselves as a couple. Do whatever you want. Go ashore. Use the spa. KCL will cover your expenses. Reasonable expenses. No jewelry. No designer clothing.”

Taken aback by the rapid unraveling of her plans, she struggled to regroup. If she didn’t change his mind, their romantic getaway would be a solitary vacation. She’d been alone enough since her mother died. “But…how will you find out the reasons bookings are down if you don’t do the full cruise experience?”

“I know what to look for.”

“I could help.”

“If this is your first cruise, then you won’t recognize sub-standard issues.”

He had a point. “You could teach me.”

“Tara—”

“What about the welcoming party?”

“I need to check the ship and the chaos of castoff is the best time.”

His hard gaze pinned her in place. She scrambled for a valid reason to be with him.

“Do you really want to tip your hand and let them know you’re here on our first day? I mean, I realize the check-in associate saw your name, but you had on your hat and your passport still lists a California address. I don’t think she recognized you or made the connection to KCL. We should stick together. You said yourself we’ll draw less attention as a couple.”

His lips thinned in irritation. “Fine. But don’t expect to play inseparable newlyweds throughout the cruise.”

Newlyweds. The word sent her temperature skyrocketing. Her gaze bounced to the bed, then back to Rand’s face. The banked heat in his eyes made her shiver, and the obvious fact that he wanted her kept her going.

She licked her dry lips. She would soon have him exactly where she wanted him, but could she make him happy to be there? Could she make him yearn to share her bed the way he used to?

That was the mission she intended to accomplish over the next three nights.

Seven

R and slid his key card into the lock. He’d deliberately stayed out well past midnight to avoid sharing the domesticated get-ready-for-bed routine.

As soon as he crossed the threshold a sense of confinement doubled his pulse rate, constricted his lungs and pushed sweat from his pores. He’d spent months at sea working all over KCL ships and in almost every capacity and slept in cabins barely large enough to turn around in. Three nights of sharing a balcony cabin wouldn’t be a problem.If his roommate were anyone else.

His claustrophobic reaction had nothing to do with the dimensions of the room, and everything to do with the woman he’d left in the bar hours earlier. But even though the comedian onstage had been entertaining, Rand had needed to get away from Tara’s laugh. It brought back too many memories—memories of a time when he’d let his guard down.

He eased the door closed and entered the unlit room as silently as possible. Would she be waiting up for him? Or had she gone to bed?

Bed. The heavy throb of his heart echoed a yard lower.

He searched the mattress in the darkness. The white terrycloth elephant sitting in the center of the spread was the bed’s only occupant. Rand had spent nine months between his junior and senior years of college working as a cabin steward. Back then he’d known how to form a dozen different animals from rolled and folded bath towels.

As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light he noted the empty lavatory and his suitcase sitting on the love seat. He stopped in his tracks. Empty bed. Empty chair. No Tara. Another possibility snagged him like a briar ripping along his skin.

The Rendezvous brand primarily targeted couples, but there were always singles on board. Had Tara given up on landing him and lingered in the bar to hook a more willing victim?

An uncomfortable burn settled in his stomach. He scanned the deserted cabin once more. The fluttering bottom corner of the curtain caught his eye and pulled him forward. He pushed back the panel and found Tara sitting on the balcony. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the light.

That wasn’t relief filling his lungs. The sea air simply made it easier to breathe. He shoved the sliding glass door open the rest of the way. “Seasick?”

She lifted her face. Moonlight washed her cheeks. She’d removed her makeup, but not her dress. From his vantage point above her, the strapless bodice revealed a tempting shadow of cl**vage, and then the ocean breeze caught her zigzag hem, drawing his gaze from her sexy sandals to an arousing length of sleek thighs. “No.”

“Then why aren’t you in bed?”

“I forgot my nightgown.”

Her reply hit him like a kick in the crotch, propelling the air from his lungs. Did she think he was stupid enough to fall for that? “How convenient.”

She winced at his sarcasm. “Our luggage wasn’t delivered until almost nine. By the time I unpacked and realized I’d left my nightie in the dryer, the gift shop had closed. Can I borrow a T-shirt tonight? Unless you don’t mind if I sleep nak*d.”

The lower half of his anatomy responded with resounding approval. Luckily, his brain kicked in. Tara had always been good at making her lies sound believable. Too bad he hadn’t known that then. But he made a mental note that the luggage had been delivered late. “I’ll get a shirt.”

She rose. “Thank you.”

He backed inside and headed for his luggage. Two flicks later it opened. He withdrew a white T-shirt and handed it over.

“Thanks. I’ll only be a minute.” Tara crossed the shadowy cabin quickly and disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed.

Something about watching her pad across a bedroom hit him like a double shot of espresso. Sleep would be a long time coming.

Rand eyed the bed and debated stripping to his boxers and getting under the covers before she returned. Stripping…the way Tara was currently on the other side of that wall. He gritted his teeth against another below-the-belt pulse of arousal.

Moments later the door opened. Tara returned, leaving the lavatory light on. Despite the extra-tall size, his shirt only covered her to the tops of her thighs, leaving a mouthwatering amount of leg bare. Even in the moonlight he could make out the shape and jiggle of her br**sts beneath the loose white fabric as she hung her dress in the closet. When she turned toward the bed he saw the raised texture of her erect n**ples and silently swore.

Was she wearing anything at all under there? Or would he be able to slide his hand beneath the cotton and cup her bare bottom?

You’re not cupping anything.

“Which side?” she asked.

It took a few seconds for his brain to engage and figure out she meant which side of the bed. “I don’t care.”

She picked up the elephant and smiled. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“The more creative the animals, the better you’ll tip your steward at the end of the voyage.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Spoilsport.”

The childish gesture reminded him how much fun he’d had with her before she’d betrayed him. Few Florida residents hadn’t visited the proliferation of theme parks and tourist traps dotting the state like mushrooms. But oddly enough neither she nor he had. They’d spent a lot of their time visiting amusement parks and acting like kids during the day and igniting the sheets like very naughty adults at night. Screaming on roller-coaster rides or in passion made it easy to avoid personal topics, and playing tourist with Tara had been like having the childhood he and his siblings hadn’t had.

She’d been one of the few people he’d been able to relax with.

More fool him.

She carefully set the towel creature on the shelf before lifting the covers on the far side of the bed and climbing between the sheets. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

Her comment jarred him into action. He retrieved his shaving kit and the essentials and retreated to the head. After brushing his teeth he donned clean boxers and sat on the closed toilet lid. How long would it take her to fall asleep? He gave her ten additional minutes before snapping off the light and easing open the door.

She must have gotten up and closed the curtains. He wanted them open, but didn’t want to wake her with the noise. He couldn’t see anything in the pitch-black room, but he could hear Tara’s breathing coming slow, even and deep as he approached the bed. He slid between the sheets and lay stiffly, flat on his back. He folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling he could barely make out, dreading the sleepless night ahead. Dreaded lying beside Tara. Wanting her. His sex thickened and ached—a problem any sane man would have handled in the shower.

No, a sane man would take the sex she offered without second thoughts.

But Rand knew how skillfully she’d cast her net last time, how easily she’d suckered him into wanting more than a casual fling despite his vow to never marry, have children or let a woman depend on him.

Tara’s breathing altered. She rolled over and snuggled up to him. One silky smooth leg bent and rested on his thigh. Her hand splayed over his sternum. He ground his teeth until his jaw hurt. And then her hand shifted. Downward. Her burning touch skimmed over his bare skin and came to rest just above his navel. His heart slammed against his ribs. Another half inch and she’d encounter the evidence of his horniness, which even now stretched toward her hand.

Was she asleep or playing him? He’d bet his Porsche 911 Carrera S Cabriolet it was the latter.

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