LaClaire Night

by Dori Lavelle

  “You’re right. I did lie. There’s something you don’t know about me.” He takes a breath. “I’m neither a guest nor a member of staff. Not really.”

  I cock my head to the side, confused. “Well, what is it? Who are you?”

  “Bryant LaClaire. This ship is mine.”

  “No.” My eyes widen and my cheeks flush with heat. “You can’t be.”

  His eyes glint with mischief. “I swear to you, this time I’m not playing games.”

  I clutch my knees with my hands. “If what you’re saying is true, if you’re really Bryant LaClaire, that means you’re my employer.” Hot acid spreads through my stomach as I think of the times we spent together, searching for moments where I acted inappropriately. But why should I feel guilty? The way I look at it, I didn’t do anything wrong, did I? He was the one to speak to me first at the gym, the one who bought me clothes, and the one to invite me up to his place. If anyone acted inappropriately, it was him. But, then again, he’s also the boss.

  Our eyes meet and disappointment expands in my belly.

  He’s my boss, nothing can happen between us. I shouldn’t have come. Why didn’t I trust my instincts and stay away? The pain of losing him even before having the chance to get closer rips through me like an unforgiving tornado.

  No matter which way I look at it, this isn’t a good idea. Despite being annoyed at being lied to, I wish he’d carried on the lie for a little longer. But of course things would’ve been much worse. It’s best this way.

  I shift away from him, so he’s no longer close enough to touch. There’s only one way this relationship can go, nowhere.

  I reluctantly pull my gaze from his and push myself up from the couch. “This is a mistake. I should go.”

  “Don’t.” He rises and moves closer to me, so close his breath strokes my face.

  “What are you doing?” My heart rises to my throat.

  He places a hand on my cheek. It takes all my willpower not to lean against it, to close my eyes and give in to his touch. “When I invited you up here, I was afraid of this. I was afraid that once you found out the truth, you’d walk away. I’d like it if you could prove me wrong.” He drops his hand from my cheek and lays both on my shoulders. His eyes reaching deep into my soul. “I didn’t tell you, because I wanted you to like me for me. Believe me, there’s more to me than my name.”

  “You should still have told me.” My heart clenches. “Now I feel like a complete idiot.”

  “Don’t you dare feel that way.” He tightens his grip on my shoulders. “You’re far from an idiot. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

  My chin hits my chest as I hide the smile. “Don’t be silly.” No man has ever said those words to me before, not even Dustin.

  “I may have lied to you about my identity, or at least withheld the information, but I’m not lying about this.” He places a finger under my chin and forces me to look back into his eyes. “How do you not see how stunning you are?”

  I don’t respond but I also don’t move away from his touch. “What do you want?”

  “I don’t want you to go,” he whispers, removing his hands from me, leaving me with an emptiness I haven’t felt before. “Have dinner with me. I hate eating alone.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is, dinner?” I can’t help grinning up at him.

  He smiles back. “I might have an ulterior motive, but I don’t want to scare you away just yet.”

  “Careful. You’re still my boss.”

  “That’s right. Now say yes, or I might be forced to fire you.” He reaches for my hand. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

  He lied again. If this were only dinner between friends, there wouldn’t be as many candles and flowers on the dining table, that’s set out on the balcony. And he certainly wouldn’t be looking at me the way he is right now, undressing me with his eyes.

  Dustin had looked at me several times over the past year, but I never felt as if he was seeing me. Not for the first time, I regret marrying him. What had I been thinking, marrying someone who didn’t make me feel the way Bryant makes me feel? So this is why some women risk their hearts even for one night of passion? I get it now.

  “Is the food to your satisfaction?” He brings his glass of water to his lips. “Or would you rather go eat in the canteen?”

  I glance at the delicious pecan chicken. “No, sir. This is perfectly all right.”

  “I admire your politeness, yoga girl.”

  When is he going to stop calling me that? It’s so inaccurate. I suck at yoga and he knows it. But on the other hand, it makes me feel special that he has found a nickname for me.

  We eat in silence for a few moments, watching the inky sea below.

  I lift the last piece of chicken to my lips, and close my eyes to better enjoy the burst of flavors flirting with my taste buds. Compliments to the chef, for sure. The canteen food has nothing on this.

  “Wow . . .” I lower my fork to my empty plate. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything more delicious. Whoever prepared this meal is a keeper.”

  He dabs his lips with an embroidered napkin. “I like to think I am.” That irresistible grin again, those dimples.

  “No.” I shake my head. “You didn’t.”

  “I did. I’d cook more if I had the time. It’s a hobby of mine.”

  I glance at my plate in amazement. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “That was the plan.” He reaches across the table and tucks a strand of hair—the night sea breeze had blown it into my eyes—back behind my ear.

  I swallow hard but I don’t move away. “I like a man who can cook.” My eyes widen. I had not planned on saying those words out loud. How could my mouth betray me like that? My face grows hot as he watches me with an intensity which makes me want to run and stay at the same time. Since when do I play the flirting game? I have to remember that Bryant is not just any man. He’s the man that pays my wages. How long do I intend on sitting here, pretending this is all right?

  “Oh yeah?” There’s a sexy lilt to his voice. “I have more skills where that came from. But if you want me to show you the rest, you’d better ask nicely.”

  Sudden and immediate lust makes me dizzy.

  I’m pretty sure he’s referring to his skills in bed. Sleeping with him or any man would be so scary after my last experience, so wrong because he’s my boss, but why does my body crave him so much?

  “Are you done?” He gestures toward my plate.

  I lay a hand on my stomach and nod. “Yes, thanks again.”

  “Great, why don’t we go for a quick walk?”

  I look at him in horror. “I can’t. I can’t be seen with you.”

  He dips his head to the side. “You are aware that this balcony is big enough for a walk, right? We don’t need to leave this place.”

  I marvel at how large the balcony is, so much bigger than most people’s bedrooms. “In that case, sure.”

  No. I should go. I’m getting dangerously close to crossing the line. But he’s not asking me to follow him to his bedroom, just a quick walk together. What’s the harm in that? And besides, it would be nice to stretch my legs after sitting rigid for so long.

  We don’t get far. After only a few step he gestures to a bench decorated in fairy lights.

  “Let’s sit.” Instead of waiting for my response, he lowers himself onto the bench and I follow suit. Side-by-side, we watch the water sparkling in the night. No place has ever been more romantic than this. And my heart has never felt lighter. I want to be here for more than a few seconds, more than a few minutes, or even hours. I long to be here for as long as he wants me beside him, embracing the warmth of his body.

  He twists to face me, his expression suddenly serious. “I’d like to be honest with you because I’m not the kind of guy who beats around the bush.” He waits until I turn to look at him. “I’m extremely attracted to you. So much that it blows my mind. And if my instincts are correct, you feel the same way about
me.”

  I clasp my hands tight in my lap. “I . . .”

  “Denying it won’t do either of us any good. I know you left behind a complicated relationship. Whoever you were involved with broke something inside you.” He pauses. “But that doesn’t scare me. If anything, I want you even more. I want to spend time with you, to explore the body you keep hidden under those massive T-shirts you like to wear. Maybe I can heal you in my own special way.” He touches my cheek, sending my senses spinning out of control, making my head swim. “I’m not asking for more than you can give, just a little sexual fun between two people who are attracted to each other. No strings attached.”

  He must be out of his mind. How the hell does one do that? How am I supposed to have no-strings-attached sex with a man who drives me so crazy with longing? On the other hand, how could I say no to the offer he is making me? What if this man can boost my sexual self-esteem and teach me things Dustin was unable to? It feels damn good to be wanted, to be desired even for a short time. But what if I fail miserably and he ends up as disappointed as Dustin had been? I don’t know how I would be able to recover from that.

  “You think this is a good idea? I mean, you’re right, I do feel something for you. But—”

  “Don’t make things more complicated than they need to be. Have you ever done something just because?”

  I swallow hard and shake my head. I’ve always done what I was told was the right thing. And some of it turned out to be the wrong thing.

  “That’s what I thought.” He grins at me. “Look, it doesn’t have to be tonight. I want you to think about it. Think of all the fun we’ll have.” He pauses and returns his attention to the water. “One of these days, I’ll be dropping by for a massage, anyway. I’ve heard you’re talented at it. You can give me my answer then.”

  I nod slowly, lost for words. I’m pretty sure after this conversation, I’ll think of nothing else. My mind is already going wild thinking about the pros and cons of his proposal. I’ve followed rules all my life, now may be the time to bend some of them and act out of character. If I choose to have sex with him, I might regret it.

  If I don’t, I might regret it all the same.

  7

  Bryant

  By the time we hit Cartagena, I’ve made a decision. It’s not my first time in town and I have a lot of memories stored away inside my dirty mind. Memories of thrilling sexual encounters. This time is different. This time I’m deviating from my usual plans.

  Unable to wipe the grin off my face, I grab my wallet and leave the suite, leaving my phone behind. I’m not seeing any of my Spanish lovers, and I don’t want anyone to reach me.

  The only woman on my mind today is Grace Anderson. Since our dinner, a few nights ago, we haven’t seen each other much but talked over the phone. The woman had found a way to get under my skin and it pisses me off that I kind of like it.

  Since I’m familiar with Cartagena, I made a promise to show her one of my favorite parts of town. Maybe a couple of hours spent with her will open her up a bit, so she tells me about her childhood and the man who sent her running to my ship for refuge. Before now, her childhood aches and pains never interested me. But something about Grace makes me desperate to peel back her layers, something out of my control. She looks so fragile, so broken that I want to take her under my wing as much as I want her in my bed. She still hasn’t given me an answer, but I intend on getting it before we leave Cartagena.

  It’s out of character for me to spend as much time with women as I plan on spending with Grace, but there’s a wonderment in her eyes when she discovers new things, a sparkle that hypnotizes me. I hunger to see her eyes glint when I show her new places and encourage her to experience different things. She hasn’t seen much of the world, that much is clear, and I want her to see this part of the world with me, need her to help me rediscover the joy in things I’ve come to take for granted.

  When I told Neal about her last night over the phone, he told me I’m falling for her. He’s wrong. I like to think of her as a friend with benefits. It’s only a matter of time before I get the benefits. But today is about her. Though I’m wary of women finding out about my wealth, I do enjoy spoiling the ones I trust, the ones who aren’t addicted to the smell of my cash. Women like Grace.

  Since Grace insisted she doesn’t want to be seen with me in public, which I appreciate, I told her to meet me at the Luxe Mobile Car Rental next to the post office, not far from where the ship is docked.

  She’s ten minutes early when I get there, looking nervous in a white oversized T-shirt and shorts that reach her knees. She has no idea what she’s depriving the world of.

  I don’t approach her immediately, but spend some minutes in front of a flower shop on the opposite side of the road, hidden by a potted plant with curled-up leaves. The dominant smells of car exhaust fumes and fast foods bury the gentle scent of the flowers waiting to be sold.

  As I watch Grace, I ignore the curious stare of the owner, who is people-watching from a bench in front of her shop. She doesn’t ask me to buy something or leave. I appreciate that.

  Grace is searching the sweaty faces of tourists and locals for mine.

  Is she wondering if I stood her up? I’ve always found confidence in women to be irresistible, but her innocence and fragility definitely turns me on. I love the challenge of building her up to a point where she’s unrecognizable to herself. I’m not one to shy away from a challenge.

  After a while, I hand the woman a hundred bucks and leave without any flowers.

  I wave at her and step onto the cracked pavement, almost knocking over a garbage can painted by local artists. A Volkswagen Beetle with an ugly scratch on the side honks when I cross the street. Paying it no attention, I call Grace’s name.

  She catches the sound of my voice over that of a baby screaming and spins around, hugging a big, faux leather bag to her body. Her face breaks out in a smile that knocks the wind out of my lungs.

  My face doesn’t reflect the turmoil inside my chest.

  “You’re early.” I move to kiss her on the cheek but she steps back, scanning the crowds. “Someone might see us.”

  “So what?”

  “Well, I have a job and a reputation to protect.” She blinks at me. She has the longest lashes I’ve seen on a woman, giving an air of mystery. “Are you sure you don’t have better things to do today than show me around?”

  I sling an arm around her shoulders, enjoying the way she squirms.

  “There’s nothing I’d rather do. And you wouldn’t want to miss out on this chance. I happen to know the best places around here. This is one of my favorite haunts.” I pause. “And by the way, you don’t have to be nervous that someone will see us, we’re renting a car for the day. Let’s go inside.”

  Her shoulders visibly sink with relief as we enter the rental agency’s cool interior. The owner comes waddling over, eyes dancing.

  “Mr. LaClaire, our favorite customer.” He has a thick Spanish accent. “Welcome back to Cartagena. So lovely to see you again.”

  “It’s always a pleasure to be back. How have you been, Daniel?” I tap the old man on the shoulder and he beams with joy, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling.

  “Who is this lovely lady?” He turns to Grace, who blushes under his appreciative glance.

  “Hands off, Daniel.” I chuckle. “She’s mine.” I’m sure Daniel knows I’m a commitment-phobe. Over the last couple of months he has heard me say the same thing about several other ladies.

  “Just a little kiss, no?” Daniel reaches for Grace’s hand and she blushes even more as he presses a kiss on her hand. She is clearly not used to being admired and it’s damn cute to watch.

  “So, Mr. LaClaire, how may I help you today?”

  “Give me your best car. I’m sure you’ll agree that this lady deserves nothing less than the best.”

  As we enjoy the scenic drive along the streets of Cartagena in the rented Porsche 911 Convertible, I can’t help watchi
ng her from the corner of my eye. Her hair is like spun gold as it floats on the wind and when she looks at me, laughing, her eyes glint like the Cognac Tourmaline ring my mother wore all the time while she was alive. Cartagena is a beautiful place, but I’ve never experienced it this way, as though I’m seeing it for the first time.

  “Having fun?” My words are muffled by the rush of the wind. We just got back on the road after I treated her to a delicious seafood lunch at my favorite restaurant in Manga.

  She throws her hands in the air and closes her eyes. “Of course I’m having fun. I’ve never felt this free in my life.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” A horn blares from behind us and I pull my gaze away from her, returning my eyes to the road.

  I won’t allow myself to be distracted by Grace Anderson. If only I knew how to stop my damn heart from going all soft around her. This is not me. I’ll never be the man she needs and deserves. Not that I want to be that guy.

  During lunch, I had opened up much more than I had intended to, told her bits and pieces of my childhood and asked about hers. As I fix my gaze on the BMW in front of us with a broken taillight, I’m struggling with the decision of whether to stop the date early. But I can’t. Today she’s got me under her spell and I want to enjoy her presence a while longer.

  I’m taking her to Cartagena’s Old Town, where I intend on treating her to some nice things. I need to see that fire of excitement lights up her eyes once more.

  Once we leave Cartagena, I’ll push the pause button and go back to seeing her as the girl I want to fuck, not the one whose company I enjoy more than I want to admit.

  For the first time, the needle of guilt stabs me between the ribs at the thought of screwing a girl and dropping her. I comfort myself with the thought that I won’t be leaving her with nothing. The confidence I’m building in her is worth more than an unpredictable relationship. There’s no way I can let it become something more than it is.