“Don’t mention it.” I started to move aside, and then popped back one more time to terrorize Chip some more. “I don’t suppose you’re the judge?”
“No.”
“Perfect,” I replied, clapping my hands together and grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll wait over here until you’re ready to get started.”
“We have to wait for the judge.”
Chip tried valiantly to solicit other people to join the contest, but he wasn’t successful beyond the five names that were already on the list. He pressed the button on the walkie-talkie that he had hanging from his belt loop. “We’re ready to start the contest. Are you on your way?”
It made that sound walkie-talkies make, then, “I’ll be right up.”
That voice sounded kind of familiar. I crossed my fingers, hoping for an old friend. The Connoisseur Cruises headquarters was in Miami. A lot of people I grew up with worked for them.
I bent my knee and held my ankle up against the back of my thigh to stretch my hamstring. Then I did the other side. I heard someone snicker, but I figured they were laughing at that geek Chip.
“Oh, great. You’re here.”
I looked up and turned in the direction of approaching footsteps. Crap. The judge for the dancing contest was none other than Maria from guest relations. The same Maria who’d had little concern for my nightgown-clad body last night. My shoulders slumped in defeat.
I could feel both Chip’s and Maria’s beady gazes land on me in damning synchronicity. There was some nervous shuffling before Chip halfheartedly shielded his mouth and said, “There’s something I need to warn you about.”
I straightened my back—Grandma always said good posture inspires confidence—and marched right up to them and said, “I was joking about that whole ‘joining the contest’ thing. I have better things to do than waste my time with such triviality.”
Maria nodded. “That’s good, since no one expected an adult like you to participate in this ‘triviality.’”
“Then we’re in agreement!” With that, I stalked off deck twelve without a backwards glance.
Yes, I was being a quitter, but I knew Maria would never let me win. I wasn’t about to humiliate myself without good reason. I did that enough back home.
All I could think was that this cruise was starting to look like an expensive lesson in forethought.
Chapter Eight
A COUPLE OF hours later, I was on my way to the miniature golf course on the top deck. April was nursing a hangover in our cabin, but Sam had actually called her while I was exploring the ship. He’d wanted to know what size pants he wore so he could buy some knock-off designer jeans at the Straw Market.
Then he told her he was planning on playing a few rounds of golf when he got back on board. That he’d actually be there and that I’d be able to find him was probably too much to hope for.
I lucked out. There he was: a tall lanky man overdressed in a polo shirt and long pants. I paced casually, trying to decide if I should start playing or wait until Sam noticed me. Then I looked in Sam’s direction and, by my good luck, he was looking in mine.
“Sam Goldblum?”
He cracked a smile. “Hey! Don’t you work at—”
“Yes, I’m an attorney at Goldblum, McCarthy, and Harcourt. I’m Kate Ryan.” I held out my hand. “This is such a coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.” Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you the one who’s always hanging around my secretary?”
“Um... yeah. That’s me.”
He swung a golf club around in a circle close to the ground. “You look different, though. Did you get a nose job?”
“No, definitely not.”
“That’s okay, Kate. You can tell me the truth.”
I shook my head. “Honestly, I didn’t get a nose job.”
“A haircut?”
“Nope.”
“Boob job?”
“No!”
“No need to get worked up. I’m only asking.”
I clenched my teeth. “I don’t know why you think I look different, but I can assure you, I haven’t changed anything.”
“Oh, fine! If you don’t want to tell me...” Sam collected another club from the attendant. “Want to play?”
“Sure.” This wasn’t going too badly.
Sam handed me a golf club, then hefted his a few times as though testing the weight. “I haven’t played miniature golf since I was a kid,” he said.
“Me, neither.” I guess it wouldn’t be cool to admit that I’d taken my neighbor and a couple of her friends less than a month ago. Professional women in their twenties didn’t play mini golf at arcade centers, did they?
“Max was supposed to play with me, but he bailed. You know Max, right?”
“Sure. We’ve worked on a few cases together.”
“That’s right!” His eyes lit up. “You’re the one he wants to—”
“I ran into him yesterday,” I said quickly, my throat becoming about the size of a drinking straw. I collected a score sheet and a tiny golf pencil then stepped up to the first hole. I placed my ball on the little indentation on the mat. “He mentioned that you guys are rooming together.”
“That’s right,” he said. “It saves some money, but it adds a little difficulty when it comes to amorous adventures.”
“Not if the woman invites you to her room.” I gave the ball a medium powered tap and it sailed down the narrow path into the next area.
“Good point,” he said, carefully placing a blue golf ball on the mat. “No hole in one for you. Maybe I’ll get one.”
“I’m sure you’re much better at putting things in holes than I am.”
He preened. “You got that right, crab cake.”
I watched him carefully as he took his shot. “Oh! Is that the way you’re supposed to hold the club?”
Sam nodded confidently. “It’s all in the wrist.”
“Wow, you’re good.”
He lightly tapped the golf ball. It rolled up the small green hill, stopped before the crest, then rolled right back towards us and right off the course toward the rock-climbing wall.
Scowling, Sam chased the ball through a group of giggling teenagers. Finally, he came back and wordlessly set up his second shot. “That was a test I like to do at the beginning of the game.”
“Right.”
“So it doesn’t count?”
I smiled benevolently. “Of course not. I knew that was a test shot.”
When he hit the ball for a second time, it made it over the hill. “There. You see?”
“Uh-huh.”
We continued to play through the course, Sam occasionally claiming all sorts of things to get out of playing fairly. Sometimes it was another test shot and therefore didn’t count. Other times, it was that his putting wrist was suffering a sudden carpal tunnel flare up. And, most memorably, there was the time he sent his ball flying into the ocean and claimed it was a pity killing for the sick dolphin he saw swim by.
None of his excuses mattered to me. I was there to get close to him, not to beat him at miniature golf. Though it got to the point where even he must have been wondering how it was so easy to trick me. After the mercy killing excuse, he stared at me for a few moments, waiting for me to crack.
When I didn’t, he picked up his ball and said, “I’m tired of this. Not challenging enough. Hot tub?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“Do you want to meet me at a solarium hot tub in a half-hour? We can soak our troubles away. Do you have troubles, Kate?”
“You might say that.” I retrieved my ball and placed both it and my club in the receptacle near the gold course entrance. “I’d be happy to join you.”
“Excellent. See you then.” He hurried off without another word in the direction of the bar.
And I hopped, skipped, and jumped back to my cabin to get changed. This was going even better than I had hoped.
Once I was in my biki
ni, I made my way to the solarium where the whirlpools were located.
I held a sarong tightly around my body as I navigated the large, steamy hot tub area. I looked for Sam in the hot tub farthest away from the rest of the crowd. And there he was, lounging in the Jacuzzi with a six-inch Cuban cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth.
And there was Max.
Max wasn’t smoking a cigar, and when he saw me, he didn’t have the same look of welcome that I could already see springing onto Sam’s face.
“Hi, guys,” I said throatily. “Is there room for one more?”
Sam gave a hearty laugh. “We’d always make room for you, sweet cheeks.”
Max didn’t say a word.
I quickly untied my sarong and let it float down to the wooden deck. With both men’s eyes following me, I stepped down into the hot tub. And gasped.
“What the hell! What’s the temperature of this thing?”
Sam shrugged. “I turned it up.”
I hopped up and down on one foot, feeling like I was in one of those horror movies where the cruel stepmother forces the young heroine to bathe in scalding water as punishment for getting her period. Now that I was closer to Max, I could see the sweat beading on his brow. Well, that was one reason for his bad mood.
Sam puffed on his cigar, a heap of ashes floating down onto the surface of the water. “Sit down, crab cake. There’s nothing like a hot woman in a hot tub.”
Max made a grumbling sound in the back of his throat.
I glared at him, hoping he didn’t think that would pass for conversation. Then again, he wasn’t my problem. I only had one reason for being in that hot tub.
I rested my arms above the water, across the top of the Jacuzzi, and allowed my breasts to rise up above the bubbles. “This is nice. Thanks for the invitation, Sam.”
“No. Thank you.”
I glanced at Max. “And are you having a good time, as well?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
I quickly turned back to Sam. “That’s quite the cigar you’re smoking. I’ve never seen one so big.”
He smiled. “I’ve never seen a bikini like that. It’s like retro, right? I like it.”
“I have one in my room that’s even more retro.” Yeah, like as in my mother could have worn it. I scooted closer to him. “Maybe I’ll wear it tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a date.”
I heard Max make another odd sound, but this time I refused to look at him.
“Sam,” I said, lightly grazing his shoulder with my fingertips. “Are you sure you’re allowed to smoke in here?”
He stretched his long legs out, knees disappearing under the water. “Rules are made for peasants. Right, Max?”
Max stared at him, looking more than a little annoyed. “Don’t forget the serfs.”
I did my best seductive laugh while leaning toward Sam, giving him a bird’s eye view of my breasts. “Mind if I have a puff?”
“Please do.” Sam’s eyes narrowed as he pointed the wet tip of his cigar toward my mouth.
I took the cigar between two fingers, licked my lips, and took a slow drag. “Spicy.”
Sam licked his own lips. “You like that, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Nothing like a good cigar.”
He leaned closer. “And that, my friend, is a good cigar.”
Max cleared his throat.
“Now you want one?” Sam reached out of the hot tub toward a pair of khakis. “Fine, I’ve got more than enough to go around. You want one, Kate?”
“I’ll share with you,” I said in what I hoped was a suitably husky voice.
“I don’t want a cigar, Sam.”
“Are you going to share, too, Max? Because I’m not sure how I would feel about that.” Sam leaned back, watching me. “Of course, there are some things I wouldn’t mind sharing.”
I giggled suggestively.
Max stood up. “Kate, can I talk to you?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Privately?”
Sam tilted his head toward me. “Did I say something naughty? Do I need to be spanked?”
“You wish,” I whispered back.
“Now, Kate?”
“Oh, fine!” I stood up and waded toward the edge, the balmy Caribbean breeze feeling chilly compared to the one hundred and four degree hot tub. “I don’t see what’s so important that you can’t say it here. A little while ago, you couldn’t even say hello and now you’re—“
Max grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the hot tub and into one of the dark shadows clustered near the railings of the ship.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I was being sociable.” I looked at him innocently, my brow creased with confusion. “What’s wrong with that?”
He shook his head. “That was more than sociable. Besides, I’ve never seen you befriend anyone. Why start now?”
My mouth fell open. “I befriend people all the time!”
“Do you even know what the word means?”
“Whatever.”
“Kate,” he said, still shaking his head. “You never search people out, make the first move—that sort of thing. In the office, you’re pretty much a loner.”
“I talk to you.”
“No, you don’t. I talk to you.”
“What’s the difference?”
“There’s a big difference. The difference is I make all the effort.”
I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t you full of yourself.”
“So why the sudden change? Why are you hanging on Sam’s every word? You don’t even know him.”
I trembled under his fierce gaze, feeling naked in my bathing suit. “I know him enough to say hello.”
Max squeezed my arm, pulling me even closer. “More importantly, you know that he’s standing between you and a partnership.”
I tried to look shocked. “What are you insinuating?”
“You’re trying to sleep your way to the top,” Max replied. “Is that clear enough for you?”
I cringed and pulled away. “You’re wrong, Max. I should have known you’d jump to the worst conclusion.”
“What’s the right conclusion, then? There could only be one other reason for your behavior. You’re attracted to him.”
“Oh, yes. He’s quite the charmer.”
Max’s hand slipped off my arm. “Sam Goldblum?”
“It was a joke. Listen, I’m not attracted to him, and I’m not trying to sleep my way to the top. The only thing I’m doing is attempting to be friendlier. You’re right about me being a loner. I’m trying to change.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said, but his shoulders relaxed and he finally stopped glaring at me.
I wrapped my arms around my damp body. “It’s not very nice of you to accuse me of being some sleep-her-way-to-the-top slut.”
I could see the typical grin return to his chiseled face. “I didn’t call you that.”
“It’s what you meant.” I put my hands on my hips and thrust out my breasts. “If I’d wanted to use my feminine wiles to get ahead, I would be CEO by now.”
He smiled, letting his gaze roam my body. “I don’t doubt that you would be.”
I felt my nipples harden under his careful inspection and realized my bikini wasn’t the only thing that was wet.
Max was breathing heavily, his chest visibly rising and falling with each breath. “A woman like you shouldn’t be allowed to wear a bathing suit. Your body is too...”
I followed the curves of the muscles in his chest with hungry eyes. “Thanks.”
He took a step forward. “Now that I know what you think of Sam, I’m even more curious about how you feel about me.”
It was a good question. I met his dark gaze and tried to formulate an answer that wasn’t too near the truth. “I think—”
“Hey, you guys!”
My entire body was jolted at the sound of Sam’s voice, the words I’d been planning to say to Max float
ing away like inconsequential wisps of smoke.
“Hello?” Sam called again, yelling in the hot tub, his voice carrying across the moist sea air. “Am I going to have to send out a search party?”
“Forget it, Kate. I know what you’re going to say,” Max said, glaring in Sam’s general direction. He turned away from the hot tub area. “I think I’ve stewed enough for one day.”
I took a deep breath. “It’s a little too hot in the hot tub.”
He laughed. “You could say that.”
“I’m actually in the mood for a nice, cold Johnny Rocket’s ice cream shake.”
“That does sound pretty good.” He looked over my shoulder. “What about Sam?”
“We’ll invite him.”
“And what if he doesn’t want to come?”
I shrugged. “I’m really craving ice cream right now, and when I want ice cream...”
“Understood.” Max led the way, grabbing a towel on the way there. He wrapped it around his waist, making him look like that was all he was wearing.
Sam was languishing in the hot tub, still smoking his cigar. “Fellow countrymen, lend me your ears.”
I waited, tying on my sarong like a strapless dress. “Were you going to say something?” I asked after a few silent moments had passed.
Sam shook his head.
“We’re going to get some ice cream shakes,” Max said, then looked at me.
“Do you want to come?” I asked, mentally crossing my fingers that I would get the right answer, even though I wasn’t quite sure what that was.
Sam placed two of his fingers against his mouth and looked up at the night sky. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Oh, are you sure?” I hoped I wasn’t pushing it, but I didn’t want Max thinking I gave up too easily.
Sam gave us both a wide smile. “It’s such a lovely night. The darkness illuminates my lost thoughts.”
“Great. I’m happy for you.”
Max quickly pulled a t-shirt over his head. “See you tomorrow, Sam.”
I slipped on my sandals. “Bye.”
Sam nodded and inserted his cigar back into his mouth. At the other end of the Jacuzzi, I could see his large toes peeking out of the water.
We started to walk away and I tamped down any thought that suggested I was doing the wrong thing. I’d see Sam tomorrow, so there was plenty of time to execute my plan. There was only so much of him I could take in one day.
Going Nowhere Page 6
