by Rachael Wade
“And I’d want you.”
“Good. Now that we’ve established that, there will be no more talk of you jumping ship early, understood, Miss Banks?”
I nod reluctantly.
“We’re going to deal with this and face it head on, just as you faced the ocean head on the first time on my ship. You will enjoy yourself, and I will please you as I see fit. Are we clear?”
I sigh and kiss his throat. “You’re right.”
“I know.”
“And smug. Too smug.”
“Naturally.” He gestures to himself, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I glance up and find that sly shadow of amusement coloring his lips. Damn him and his cocky self. This confidence has never impressed me before, not with other men. But Tanner knows his game, and he knows how to play it, knows what works for him and what doesn’t. It’s a fun-loving confidence. That humor, mixed with such sexy self-assurance does me in.
“That’s it,” I huff, sitting up and yanking the sheets off, “I have to go.”
“What?” He’s panicked, suddenly sitting up with me.
“I cannot lie around the rest of the night with you, or I’ll never get any work done. You’re too tempting.”
He laughs, all dry and sexy, because he knows I’m right. “I haven’t fed you yet.”
“Not hungry.”
“I’m making you a sandwich. Then I’m going for a run.” He shuffles out of bed and starts for the kitchen as I rifle through my things, searching for fresh clothes. He gives my hip a squeeze as he passes by and kisses my shoulder.
It doesn’t take me long to get dressed. I scroll through my phone for Lana’s number, praying for service. “I might need the landline again,” I call out to Tanner from the bedroom.
“Still down,” he calls back. I hear the refrigerator open and close.
I step through the bedroom sliding door and out onto the patio, sighing in relief when I hear a ring tone.
Lana’s voice sounds on the other end. “Hey! You hung up on me earlier!”
“No, Tanner’s phone isn’t working. I’m not sure how long my cell will hold up. We had a thunder storm this afternoon and my reception’s still spotty, at best.”
“Okay, I spoke to Ted.”
“And?”
“I got clearance to board the Crown Jewel this Saturday, for the next Aruba sailing. He loved my idea to feature the ship.”
“In other words, he’s eager to kiss his new business partner’s ass.”
“Pretty much. I figured it would be easy to convince him. Now the fun begins.”
“Tanner’s worried, Lan. He said you need to be careful about what you write. Make sure it’s factual.”
“Oh, honey, I’ve already done some digging. Rest assured, everything I write about Miss Hoity Toity’s ship will be one hundred percent factual. She’s no saint. As if her shady business arrangements don’t make that obvious enough.”
“Ted will be bummed when you don’t give the Crown Jewel a glowing review. What if he refuses to run the feature? There’s a good chance he’ll say no.”
“If he does, I’ll simply tell him where he can shove it and take my report elsewhere.”
“Lana, no.” My hand lands on my forehead. This is getting out of hand. It’s affecting too many people, now. Even my best friend, who has worked so hard to work her way up the ladder at Four Corners Elite. This could get messy fast. “You’ll risk breaching your contract. There’s no way in hell I’m dragging you into this. What you’re doing is already risky enough.”
“An, I’m already knee deep. I might as well dive in. If this bitch messes with you, she messes with me. I know my worth at this magazine. I’m Head Editor and one step away from owning the joint. Okay,” she sighs dramatically, “not entirely, but ya know, I got skills, yo. With my experience, not to mention a gutsy piece on the Crown Jewel, any travel publication would happily snatch me up if Ted were to kick me to the curb.”
“This seems an awful lot to put on the line over…over whatever this is.”
“Oh, Anya. Girl, you’ve been watching way too many episodes of Walking Dead. You cannot go down with the Walkers, you hear me? You’re alive. And strong. And wild. And free. And you have Tanner. Whatever Jade had with him or thinks she has with him is dying. It’s a Walker fest, right there, babe.”
“Ew.” My nose scrunches and my stomach rolls with visions of gory, flesh-eating zombies. “I don’t watch Walking Dead.”
“Well, I do! In this one episode, this kickass character Michonne is wandering through the woods, ya know, feeling all dead and whatnot as she strolls along with the Walkers. She’s kind of given up. She’s been split up from her friends and has suffered unthinkable tragedy. It’s like she’s almost ready to throw in the towel and just become one of them, but then she realizes she still has some fight left in her. Some hope! Things get better after that…until they get worse again. But!” –she sucks in a quick breath— “The point is they get better. Because she doesn’t give up hope. And she realizes what humanity is all about!”
“Um…Lan?”
“Huh?”
“You lost me at Michonne.”
“Oh, boo. Forget it. Look, all I’m trying to say is that things might look bleak right now. They didn’t go the way you planned, and now you have this Bridezilla rubbing salt in the wound. But Tanner wants you, Anya. He’s made that perfectly clear. So buck up, claim that man as yours—because he is—and let me get my super-sneaky sleuth on, because I’m one hundred percent on board. We’re gonna bring this bitch down and save Tanner’s ship in the process, you’ll see.”
“Lan?”
“What?”
“What the hell would I do without you?”
“I don’t freaking know! Probably starve from food and sex deprivation! I got your back, chick. You will never go without when I’m around. Wait. That sounds really dirty.”
I laugh and swipe at my eyes, which are now misty with unshed tears. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now go roll around in the sand with your billionaire or whatever it is you two do, and let a girl get some work done. Brie’s staying the night, so I have to get some of this done pronto. We’re having a Food Network marathon tonight in footie PJs. We wanted a proper goodbye before I set sail Saturday.”
“Oh, sexy.”
“Don’t hate on the footies!”
“Tell Brie I said hey.”
“Okay, I will.”
We hang up and I look up at the sky, watching as a fresh wave of grey clouds floats in, hovering over the ocean’s horizon. It’s going to be a stormy night. I vaguely wonder about Tanner, if he’ll make it back to the house on time, before he gets caught running in the rain. But what my mind is really churning over is the act I’m going to have to put on when our time on Alvita is up. Until Lana begins Operation Ruin Jade’s Reputation, Tanner and I are stuck playing her game, and that means playing the roles we’ve been given by the Queen Bee herself: Tanner, adoring fiancé, and me, the cooperative mistress who obeys all orders.
I turn and head back inside the house to get ready for the storm.
THREE
“I hope you understand, Anya,” Ted tries to console me, as if I even had a say in the matter, “the decision was purely made in the best interest of the magazine, and where I believe your talents will be most useful at the moment.” I grit my teeth and bite my tongue as I wrap up my call with Ted. He’s spent the last twenty minutes droning on about how fantastic Jade Simmons is and how partnering with her is the best move he’s made for the magazine in years. At this point, I already feel nauseated, but his gushing over the wannabe Victoria Beckham is really grinding on my last nerve.
“I’m certain you’ll find this arrangement to be an exciting opportunity. You’re officially our first writer to be stationed at sea!” he continues. His voice is nails on a chalkboard.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I lie. “I do have one last question, though, Ted.”
“How long does this arrangement last, exactly?”
“Six months to a year. Jade and I are still discussing the duration of the position. It will of course depend on how pleased Jade is with the results in the coming months. We can chat some more about it when you return from this sailing. Sound good?”
God, no. “Yes, sounds good.”
“Well, then, my dear, I won’t take up any more of your time today. You have plenty of work to do. Enjoy your time in the Caribbean!”
“I will. Thanks, Ted.”
The line clicks and he’s gone. I slump back into the pillows, watching out the bedroom window at the swaying of the palm trees. The sky is a bright, spotless blue, and the endless teal horizon glimmers beneath the morning sunlight. All remnants of last night’s thunder storm are gone, replaced with blinding traces of tropical, sunny perfection.
Tanner’s white, fluffy sheets are piled on top of me. I haven’t moved all morning, with the exception of making a cup of coffee to give myself a boost for my phone call with Ted. As I lounge here, looking out, all I want is to match the blissful beauty outside. Tanner will be back from his jog soon, and nothing would be more glorious than to take him into the shower and show him exactly how I feel about him. How possessive I’ve become in the span of a few days, since meeting his faux fiancée.
I suddenly understand Tanner’s jealously around Jonah and his crazy need to display ownership.
I yank the sheets up and over my head, settling deeper into the mattress. The front door squeaks on its hinges and I hear him, tugging off his running shoes, moving toward the bedroom. My fingers curl around the top of the sheet and I peek out from the white cloud I’m buried in, gaze falling on a very amused, cocky smirk. Tanner’s standing in the doorway, dripping in sweat, the band of his running shorts revealing those delectable dips in his hips.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Do you plan on getting up any time soon?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
I sit up and let the sheet drop to my waist, a slow smirk inching up. “Whether or not you want me to.”
He begins an easy stroll toward me, taking in my bare breasts before locking on my coy smile. “What a dilemma. To keep my work of art in bed, or not to keep my work of art in bed.”
“If you have to ponder the answer to that, you’re not the man I thought you were.”
His brow rises. He stops at the edge of the bed, glaring down at me. His eyes caress every part of me, raking across my skin like sharp nails. The burn is delicious and slow building, simmering from the inside out. “And who is this man?”
“The man whose priority is to always satisfy his work of art.” I shift onto my knees and crawl forward, bringing my hands to his chest, sliding them up the sweaty, carved slope until they part and land on his shoulders. “The one who owns the sea. Who owns me, now, too.”
A fleck of dark navy glints in the sapphire of his gaze, churning with rich intensity. He slowly reaches out and commands the back of my neck with one firm hand, his thumb massaging my hairline. “Does this mean you won’t be calling Junior when you return to shore?”
“Jonah?”
“Junior. His name’s Junior.”
“Because he’s a boy, not a man?”
“Very good, Miss Banks.”
“Do you want me to call Junior when I return to shore?”
His fingers tighten on the nape of my neck, pulling the little hairs until they sting my skin. “Is that a serious question?”
“Of course it is. I need to know what you’re looking for. Where do you want this to go?”
“This is as much your decision as it is mine. I may be a man, but that doesn’t make me a good one. Not for you.”
A spark of hurt fizzles, and I know it shows in my eyes, but I don’t waver, don’t back down. Now isn’t the time to back down, just like it wasn’t time when Zoe needed me. When her head went under the crashing waves and the sea tried to claim her. In that moment of undeniable risk, it’s time to stand tall. “That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is.” He bends slightly, pressing his lips lightly on mine. He cups my jaw. “I’ll be whatever you let me be. What can you live with, baby?”
I blink, not letting go of his stormy baby blues. He’s asking me a million questions with that one, single sentence, and I cannot deny the truth behind the words. Whatever is happening with me and Tanner, whatever will come of this, it’s all up to me. The ball is in my court, not his. He’s made his position clear. There is a good chance he will choose to marry Jade, regardless of what happens. That he will yield to her demands in order to save his ship and all it represents.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “Don’t give up on me yet, Miss Banks.”
A sad smile paints my face and I tilt my lips to meet his, pressing them together firmly. My arms encase his neck and he moves forward, crawling over me, pushing us back onto the bed. I want to stay here. Right here, where none of what awaits us on the Trident Voyager can touch us. I want him to tell me Lana will come through. That he won’t marry Jade, no matter what happens.
But he doesn’t, because he can’t.
He can’t promise me that. He can’t promise me anything. All he can give me right now is this expression. His touch, his affection.
And I accept it greedily.
“Promise me something.” He breathes into my hair as he moves the sheets to climb over me, flattening his body against mine, palming my breast with his hot hand.
“Find a man, not a boy?”
“That, too. But I have another request.”
“What is it?”
“After I spoil your body rotten, which I’m about to, come for a swim with me.”
“That’s it?”
“And let me make you a sandwich.”
“It’s not lunchtime yet.”
“It will be soon.”
I giggle beneath my breath at the image of this wealthy cruise ship owner delighting in such simple pleasures. “Fine. Whatever floats your boat, Mr. Christensen.”
“You.” He bites my earlobe. “You do. Now roll over and let me see that beautiful ass.” Heat cascades down my thighs and I flip onto my stomach to obey him, stretching my arms up above my head, letting him run his hands down my body. He explores the sides of my breasts, the flare of my hips, and finally, the curves of my ass. My lashes flutter shut and a hum resonates, floating up, up, and away, to the clouds. Tanner begins working my shoulder muscles, massaging at first, sliding his hot, hard length between my thighs as he goes, melting me into the mattress.
As I drift into the dreamy haze he’s creating with his hands and his heat, my brain rejects the rattle of a doorknob. It dismisses it entirely at first, as if the sound couldn’t possibly be here, intruding on my present, perfect reality. A creak and then a slam causes Tanner’s hands to still.
My eyes snap wide.
“Hold on, baby.” Tanner lunges from the bed and adjusts his running shorts, but there’s no concealing the hard-on he’s sporting. I roll over and sit up, bringing the sheet high, up to my chin, preparing for yet another run-in with Margaret Christensen. Heels clack across the floor, and a silhouette appears in the bedroom doorway, meeting Tanner head on.
I should’ve known.
“Well, well,” Jade’s voice sing-songs, “so sorry to interrupt.” Her pointy chin tilts to the side as she places her hands on her svelte hips, assessing Tanner from head to toe, eyeing me over his shoulder.
“What are you doing here, Jade?” Tanner glares at her, nostrils flaring.
“What an idiotic question.” She sighs, raising her left hand to eye the massive rock on her finger, examining it under the natural light. “This is our home, Tanner. We decorated it together, remember? Where we spent numerous, sweaty, delicious nights together, in this very bed, where your little whore currently lies.” Her head snaps to the side and her eyes spit daggers at me. “I doubt the sheets have been changed si
nce.”
Tanner steps in front of her, fists clenching. “You hate this house. You haven’t been here in God knows how long. And yes—” he sends me a glance over his shoulder, “the sheets have most definitely been changed.”
A lump forms in my throat, thick and hard. I don’t know why, but up until now, I’ve just assumed Tanner hasn’t actually slept with her. Their relationship has been just for show, after all. But as the reality dawns on me, I instantly feel like a fool.
Again.
Of course, he’s slept with her. Faux fiancée or not, she’s beautiful, rich, and powerful, just like him, and he plays. How naïve could I be? He’s been with countless women, and she’s just another checkmark on his list of conquests.
“Hate is such a strong word,” Jade says breezily. She casually steps past him into the bedroom, sizing it up from ceiling to floor. “It still has such potential. If only you would have put aside your senseless sentiment and updated it when your father died, it could have been fabulous.”
“Jade, you need to leave. Now.”
“Tanner, give it a rest, will you?” Jade sways her hips as she wanders toward the bathroom, slowly unzipping the back of her dress. When she reaches the doorway, she lazily slides it down her waist, until it rests on her hips. I gawk at her perfectly round, perky breasts, and the lean, firm slope of her back. Her smooth, bronze skin glows as she turns to glance at Tanner over her shoulder with a knowing smirk. “I’d like to take a shower before my afternoon meetings. You should join me.”
Tanner’s jaw pops and he looks away, eyes landing on mine. They’re full of so many things: anger, pleading, and desperation, to name a few. “You can shower on the ship,” he says sternly, still refusing to meet her gaze.
“Why would I, when I have this cute little home on the island?” She bats her eyes and glances at me. “We’ve never been opposed to threesomes, Anya. You’re welcome to join too, if you’d like.” She winks and slinks through the bathroom door. Running water echoes, the sound scratching at my nerve endings. I swiftly get out of bed and begin rifling for my clothes. They’re heaped onto the bedroom floor, tangled with a pair of Tanner’s jeans and boxer shorts.
