Heartbreaker

by Monica Robinson

  After placing the items back in the basket, Charity lifted her carry-on onto the bed and opened it. She removed the clothing and placed them in the dresser behind her before retrieving her laptop. Releasing a long breath, she walked to the balcony doors and opened them. Despite her aversion to water, she had to admit the view of the wharf and sea was breathtaking. The clear blue sky mixed with the scent of the ocean filled her with exhilaration and promise. Not only was this her chance to prove herself in Tom’s eyes, but a chance to shed her insecurities as well.

  Turning away from the balcony, she strode over to the writing table and sank onto the cushioned bench that served as a sitting area. After booting up the machine, she opened the word-processing program. She made two columns and at the top of each, wrote Fact and Rumor. Her gaze slid to the basket on the dresser and chuckled. Under Fact, she typed: The Hedonna offers passengers a “welcome” basket filled with erotic goodies. Clever.

  Now, to explore the boat and see if there was anything worth writing under the Rumor category.

  ****

  Half way through her exploration of the Apollo deck, a bone-jarring horn blared, announcing that the safety drill was about to begin. Getting in step behind three young women, Charity followed them to the elevator, trying to ignore their excited giggles.

  “I wonder if he’ll be working tonight,” one of them, a blonde dressed in a skintight mini dress gushed before stepping through the open doors. “A friend of mine took this cruise during the Valentine’s Day weekend and said that if there’s anyone who can make my fantasies come true, it’s the Heartbreaker.”

  The Heartbreaker? Charity wedged herself into the already crowded compartment, making sure she stood near the conversing women. Though she wasn’t normally the eavesdropping type, the woman’s simple comment had been enough to pique her curiosity. Who was this Heartbreaker? A crewmember? That would put an interesting spin on her story…provided he existed.

  “I imagine he would be since we’re leaving port tonight,” another, this one a redhead, declared with a sly grin. “And your friend is right. I took this cruise a year ago and the rumors about him are totally true. He’s a sex God.”

  Oh brother. As tacky as this conversation was, the information was invaluable. It may not prove that the Hedonna was a floating orgy, but if she could confirm there was a crewmember engaging in inappropriate relations with female passengers then, well, this story could be the turning point of her career.

  “Lottie, you dirty girl. You didn’t tell me you met him. What’s he like?”

  Yeah, Lottie. What’s he like? I could use a sex God right about now. Wasn’t that a depressing thought? The man more than likely didn’t exist and, even if he did, he was probably a pig who viewed women as disposable objects.

  Lottie offered her companions a coy shrug and tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “I’m not the kind of girl to kiss and tell, but go to the meet-and-greet tonight at the Cleopatra. He’ll be the hunk behind the bar.”

  The blonde crossed her arms, the gesture causing her breasts to nearly spill out of the top of her dress. She tilted her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow. “And just how are we supposed to tell which one is him? I’m sure they have more than one bartender onboard.”

  “Well, duh, Brandi.” Lottie giggled at her companion’s pout. “Okay, okay. He’s the tall one with dark hair and the most adorable dimple you’ve ever seen. Trust me, you’ll know him when you see him.”

  “How?”

  “He’ll be the one with all the women around him.”

  The elevator doors slid open and the passengers began filing out. Charity lost track of the three women in the crowd gathered on the open deck and, though she was a bit disappointed that she wouldn’t learn anymore about this alleged Heartbreaker, the information she had was enough—for now. Looks like I’m going to the meet and greet after all. If nothing else, she’d be able to put at least one of Fantasy Cruise’s rumors to rest.

  Chapter Three

  “Hell-o-o nurse. Hot blonde at three o’clock.”

  Scott glanced up from the drink he was mixing and arched an eyebrow. “Which one? Half the women in this room are blonde.”

  Justin nodded to the dance floor. “Okay, let me rephrase that. Hot blonde with a body that won’t quit at three o’clock.”

  Scott looked in the direction his friend was gesturing and his eyes landed on the derriere of a woman in a tight-fitting red dress. She wasn’t facing him, but that gave him the opportunity to admire the curve of her mostly exposed back and gently rounded hips. His heart rate spiked at the way she swayed to the music, a glass of what appeared to be white wine in her hand. With her dress reaching her ankles, he couldn’t get a clear look at her legs, but he could certainly imagine—and he liked what his mind was conjuring up.

  “Nice.” He shifted his attention to her waist and then up to the mop of loose, sandy blond curls cascading over her shoulders. “Very nice. Why don’t you go over and introduce yourself?”

  He laughed at the look of horror on Justin’s face.

  “What and have Kathy rip my head off? I can’t get away with talking to the passengers while on duty like you do.”

  “And herein lies your problem. You don’t think Kathy gives me hell?”

  Justin remained silent as Scott continued, “Trust me. She yells at me, I simply don’t care. Here, let me show you.” Ignoring Justin’s protest that he was insane, Scott slipped out from behind the bar and wound his way through the crowd toward the dance floor.

  He wasn’t sure what he would say to this woman once he reached her, since she already had a drink, but he was sure he would think of something. After all, he hadn’t earned his nickname for being a wallflower.

  “Bonsoir Scott.”

  Scott halted upon hearing the sultry French accent. Images of two, identically gorgeous women sprang to his mind and a slow smile curved the corners of his mouth. He turned his head to find one of the twins he’d met the night before smiling up at him. Which one was she again? Brigitte or Marie?

  Ah hell. “Bonsoir mademoiselle.” That’s it. Play it safe. “How do you and your sister like your cabins?”

  “C’est très petit, but that is fine. Marie and I knew the cabin would be small.” She laughed and waved her slender hand in a dismissive manner. “We’re more interested in meeting people anyway. You think about our offer, non?”

  Was she kidding? Half the reason he hadn’t slept the night before was because of the proposition the sisters had presented to him. “Be our fantasy man and we will make you very happy in return.”

  “I have. I work, too, so I can’t promise when I’ll be able to see you.”

  Brigitte pouted. “Okay. We’ll be patient…for a while. Au revoir.” With that, she turned toward a cluster of passengers mingling near the DJ booth.

  Scott echoed her goodbye in his mind and shook his head. Where was he? Oh yeah. The knockout in the red dress. He scanned the dance floor where he’d last seen her and frowned. She was nowhere to be seen. Wouldn’t it be just his luck that the one time he had the opportunity to show off for Justin, the woman in question would disappear and leave him looking like a friggin’ mor—

  The sound of a woman’s laugh interrupted his thoughts. Correction, the sound of a vaguely familiar laugh interrupted his thoughts.

  He twisted his head in the direction of the sound and spotted the woman in the red dress less than ten feet away. She was accompanied by four men, each of them looking as though they’d just found their dinner. Disgusting. He may be a player, but at least he had the sense God gave a guppy not to ogle the object of his desire like a juicy steak waiting to be devoured.

  He tossed a look in the direction of the bar and found Justin propped against the counter, watching him in amusement. His friend’s expression couldn’t be more obvious. Now what, big shot? Humph. Not a problem. All he had to do was walk up to her, gently tap her on the shoulder, and say—

  “You’ve g
ot to be shitting me.”

  He stared into the woman’s startled green eyes in amazement, his heart slamming in his ribs. He was imagining things. Yeah, that’s it. Between a lack of sleep and that morning’s trip down memory lane, he was now conjuring up the image of…

  “Cherry?”

  Her eyes widened in recognition and he could have sworn he saw the color drain from her face. It was true. Standing before him, looking more beautiful than he could have imagined, was his childhood best friend.

  Charity Kendrick.

  Cherry Berry.

  She swallowed and stole a glance at the men around her before returning her attention to him. The corners of her lips twitched with an incredulous smile. “Scott?”

  He nodded wordlessly, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything except gape at her like a fool. She’d changed so much since the day he left her standing at the bus station. She’d lost weight—a lot of weight by the looks of it—but it was her eyes that held his interest. Eyes, which were once guarded and somewhat sad, now bright with a fire he couldn’t describe but found altogether alluring. His mouth went dry when she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.

  “Wh—what are you doing here?”

  He swallowed. “I work here. What are you doing here?”

  “She’s here for the same reason we are,” one of the men standing beside her said with annoyance. “To meet new people. Now run along so she can get back to doing that.”

  Scott shot the man a dark look that quieted him immediately. He turned his attention to Charity and found her smile had broadened.

  “I needed a vacation.” She shrugged. “The chance to live out a few of my fantasies was just an added perk.”

  Her what? His eyes bulged and this time she did laugh. The sound wrapped around him like a comfortable blanket and, in an instant, all of his childhood memories came rushing back to him. The days of catching sand crabs, riding bikes, and the camping trips their families took together. He’d always looked forward to those camping trips. That is until the summer Charity nearly drowned. She would have if he hadn’t pulled her to shore—

  “Your fear.”

  Her smile faltered. “Is under control.”

  From the corner of his eye, he could see the other four men getting impatient, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he nodded to her empty wine glass.

  “Would the lady like a refill?” And get away from these vultures?

  She looked at her glass and shook her head. “No, I think I’ve had my limit.” She met his gaze and his pulse spiked at the playfulness reflecting back at him. “I’d like to dance though. Are you allowed to dance while on duty?”

  Technically, if Kathy caught him, she could have him written up for fraternizing, but at the moment he couldn’t be bothered to care. It would be well worth the hassle if he could find out what she’d been up to after all these years. Maybe he would find out if she’d been the woman mentioned on that morning’s “Ask the Expert” segment on KORK. Irritation rippled through him at the thought.

  “The better question to ask is if I care.”

  She laughed. “Do you care?”

  He shook his head, taking her glass and setting it on a passing waitress’s tray.

  “Nope. Let’s dance.”

  ****

  Coincidence. Running into Scott Nolan on the Hedonna was nothing more than a coincidence. Albeit a creepy one considering she’d caught herself reminiscing about him earlier in the afternoon. You don’t believe in coincidences remember? Not the point. There was no other logical explanation for his presence.

  Could Scott be the Heartbreaker she’d heard the other women talking about? She hadn’t thought of that, but in a way it made sense. The description had certainly fit. He was a bartender for the Cleopatra, he was gorgeous, and she’d seen at least a dozen women ogling him as though he were Adonis personified. Should this surprise her? No, not really. Not when he’d broken her heart so long ago.

  “So tell me, how’s Joe doing? I heard him on the radio this morning.”

  Scott’s comment snapped her out of her musings and she caught herself before she could stumble. Crimeny, did everybody listen to KORK? The last thing she wanted was to think about Nick’s betrayal while in the arms of the man who starred in her adolescent fantasies.

  “He, um, he’s doing good. He’s a doctor now. A psychiatrist to be precise.” I’d like to hear his thoughts on this one.

  “That’s what I heard.” He slid his hands to the base of her spine and gently rubbed the vertebrae with his thumbs. “Was it you they were discussing on ‘Ask the Expert’?”

  She stiffened, but tried to cover her embarrassment with a weak laugh. “That’s awful presumptuous of you. Is that how you win over all of your dates?”

  “This is a date? Hell, if I’d known that I would have worn something more appropriate.”

  He grinned at her surprise, continuing to rub her back with his thumbs. His fingers felt so good and she hadn’t had a massage in so long she bit her lip to stifle the sigh of pleasure.

  Hello. Earth to Charity. You’re supposed to be mad at him. He left without so much as a backward glance, remember? Huh? Oh. Right. Mad. It was rather difficult to hold a grudge against someone who could turn your muscles to putty with just two fingers.

  “Very funny,” she managed. “I see you haven’t changed in the last twelve years.”

  “I’d have to be blind not to see that you have. You look beautiful.”

  A blush crept into her cheeks and she diverted her gaze. She’d never been good at receiving compliments. She always felt awkward, unsure of what to say. Maybe it was because she hadn’t received many while growing up or maybe—and this was more likely—the times she had received them, they were always accompanied with a “but.”

  “Thanks.” She sighed. “Yes, it was me they were discussing. If it’s all the same, I’d rather not talk about it. Part of the reason why I’m here is to forget it ever happened.”

  “The show or the jackass who called in?”

  She looked at him in amazement. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him it wasn’t any of his business, but stopped before the words escaped. She supposed it couldn’t hurt to answer the question. It wasn’t as if he’d asked for details or anything. For all she knew, he might not have heard the whole thing. She really hoped he hadn’t heard the whole show.

  “Both.” She took a deep, cleansing breath and smiled. “So, how does a person who suffers from claustrophobia end up working on a cruise ship? I mean, I have one of the larger suites and the cabin is still tiny.”

  “I like being on the water. I can roam the decks for hours, just admiring the vastness of the ocean and the openness of the sky. Not to mention, I have a hammock on the sundeck, so I’m rarely in my cabin other than to shower and change.” His palms spanned her back and he drew her against him. “So what would possess a woman who is deathly afraid of water to take a cruise?”

  She resisted the urge to shiver. “I already told you, I needed—”

  “You needed a vacation,” he interrupted. “I get that. What I don’t get is why you would willingly torment yourself.”

  She wouldn’t necessarily say she was doing it willingly. If she wanted her shot at a real story, then she didn’t have much of a choice. She needed to either suck it up or end up writing about penguins and groping pirates her whole career. Since she’d sooner have her fingernails ripped out than do the latter, she’d done the only thing she could. She’d sucked it up.

  “Maybe I’ve become a masochist since you left.”

  He stuck out his lower lip and nodded. “Maybe, but I doubt it. You’re not that type of person.”

  “How would you know what type of person I am? I bet until this morning, you hadn’t thought of me in years.”

  A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes and he tightened his hold around her. “You’d lose that one, Cherry Berry. I may not have thought of you recently, but I’d wager a month’s salary you
haven’t thought of me either.”

  Touché.

  She hadn’t. Not until she’d boarded the Hedonna that afternoon and read Fantasy Cruise’s motto. Even still, that didn’t explain why the phrase had reminded her of him. Except maybe on a subconscious level she hadn’t gotten over him. God, how pathetic. Here she was, a grown woman, still pining for a man who hadn’t been able to get away from her fast enough when they were teenagers.

  He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry now. True, and perhaps she could use this to her advantage. If Scott was, in fact, the notorious Heartbreaker, then maybe she could kill two birds with one stone. He could be the focus of her story and help with her sexual dilemma. If he was as good as the rumors said, then he should have no trouble making her come.

  “Not recently, no,” she admitted with a bit of reluctance. “We have four days to remedy the situation, if you’d like.” For added effect, she dragged her nails up the nape of his neck. “I’ll understand if you’re too busy though.”

  He closed his eyes, the faintest of shivers rippling through his shoulders. When he looked at her a second later, his expression had darkened with desire. Her pulse raced and she held her breath when he leaned forward, his lips grazing her ear.

  “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” He pulled back a few inches and looked her over lazily. “Well, I can, but it would seem vastly inappropriate given our history.”

  Oh. My. Was it her imagination or had the room gotten hot all of a sudden? She released the breath she’d been holding and focused on not stuttering. Damn if he still didn’t have the power to render her tongue-tied.

  “It might indeed.” She tilted her head, steeling herself to ask him the question that had been niggling at the back of her mind since they stepped onto the dance floor. “I was wondering if you could help me with something. I heard some of the female passengers talking about a crewmember who makes women’s fantasies a reality. Would you happen to know who they’re talking about?”