Undertow

by Jen Greyson

  Just for tonight. I had nothing to prove, no one to please.

  Tonight was just about me and this dress—a Cinderella thing.

  I closed my eyes and let the music and warm breeze swirl around me, drawing strength from the invisible sustenance. The thump of the big bass reverberated through my feet, raced along my veins, and filled me with an unfamiliar strength.

  I opened my eyes, lifted my chin, and stared at the reflection. My reflection.

  Yes I could be her—for one night, but only tonight.

  My courage faltered at the top step, but I jammed it back on like a wobbling eyelash. From this vantage I could make out each girl, tucked away in the separate foliage cozies. Mateo stood in the first one to my left, chatting with Rinnae. Her back was to me and he hadn’t spotted me yet. If I was fast, maybe I could race back down the steps.

  “I think the only thing we haven’t talked about is the weather.” Rinnae sipped from her champagne flute, then handed the empty glass to Mateo. There was a playful lilt to her voice, like they’d been chatting for a while. Another move that secured me at the bottom of the pile when it came to viewers. They always wanted fighters and contestants who showed up first, played rough, and left last. I didn’t want to be any of those.

  Even dressed like this and pretending to be someone else.

  That thought stopped me at the top. I wasn’t me tonight, I was playing a game. A game that would earn me time alone if I hung in there long enough. Straightening, I stepped onto the deck.

  “What’s your favorite season?” Rinnae asked Mateo from inside their garden.

  A waiter stopped at the entrance, and Mateo leaned forward, exchanging empty glasses for full ones. “Autumn is my... favorite... time... of baby blue.”

  He excused himself from Rinnae. She turned, caught sight of me, and gasped. Genuine admiration crossed her face and she pushed Mateo in the back, propelling him toward me faster.

  Eyes wide, his gaze traveled over me from black hair to French pedicure and back, pausing the second time at my ankles, hips, a nerve-wrackingly long time at my cleavage, then my lips. My primping hadn’t done a thing to prepare me for how I’d feel when he looked at me like that. My skin warmed like he’d used a welding torch.

  “You look unbelievable.” Still off-kilter, I let him take my hand and twirl me. My fingers tingled and a blush erupted behind my careful makeup. One good reason for bothering with that setup. But the woman in the mirror knew how beautiful she was—his reaction wouldn’t have surprised her in the least. She—I—knew the power she held over men. A waiter appeared at my elbow, and I reached for the champagne glass perched atop his tray, breaking Mateo’s embrace.

  Not to be dissuaded, he settled a warm hand in the small of my back and guided me past Rinnae’s garden and into an empty one. Another bloom of sensation exploded beneath his fingers. No one intercepted us, and this must be what they’d been doing up there. Clearly he’d been briefed on tonight’s plan, even if I hadn’t. Though Stuart probably went over this while I was getting plucked.

  Focus.

  I took three swallows of the champagne to try and calm my nerves. Bubbles rocketed up my nose and I fought a sneeze. Another thing my alter ego probably never did. More bubbles melted on my tongue and snapped against my teeth. Moving toward the railing, I drained the glass.

  Nerves, these emotions were just nerves. I knew how to handle nerves and took a deep breath. Branches of a palm reached for me, longing for this woman’s embrace. An ocean breeze feathered them against my body like a lover’s fingers. Mateo’s smoldering gaze caressed me again.

  These nerves needed more champagne.

  I leaned my hip against the railing, and settled one hand on the railing, then forced myself to release the stranglehold on the flute’s stem. The girl—woman—in the reflection would be calm. Serene. Elegant.

  She would see Mateo as quarry, not an adversary.

  The waiter appeared and I traded my glass. “Thank you.”

  He blushed and I winked at him. Oh yes, that woman was very good at this.

  Mateo wavered for another second then stepped into the inviting enclosure, warming the air and making the foliage brush against my body. For a moment, I had an image of a fly debating about whether to land on a Black Widow’s glimmering web.

  My confidence stabilized for the first time tonight. I smiled and I tipped my chin playfully. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be pursuing an unproductive chase.” I took a sip and raised my glass to the other girls hidden in their enclosures. “Especially when there are so many viable options.”

  Mateo’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’d have a hard time classifying anything with you as unproductive. Besides, Stuart asked me to spend alone time with each girl tonight. He made a point of listing you.”

  Did he expect me to believe Stuart put him up to this? My pulse fluttered. He’d been willing to pay millions if I didn’t agree to be standing right here, right now. I took a shaky sip. He paid millions for cars, too—I’d be a fool to think his decision had been anything but another purchase for something he wanted to acquire and dispose of when he tired of it. “Did he, now?”

  He cleared his throat and batted a palm branch. “And I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “Since lunch?” No trace of anger laced my words. The woman in the reflection wasn’t mad—she never let men get under her skin. She was impervious to their effect, good or bad. Which meant tonight, I was too.

  He fidgeted, like the space was too small, and if I weren’t busy being someone else, I would have been claustrophobic. His chest nearly brushed my arm and if I took a deep breath, it might. There was a wariness about him too... He’d stowed his confident swagger for the night. Just for me? Or for the girls? Not that I preferred the douchebag routine, but that made him easier to resist. This guy was almost enjoyable.

  “I still want to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t try before lunch, but I didn’t have a chance with the commotion of shipping out. Are you still upset?”

  I fingered the underside of a leaf and took another sip. It was good champagne. Clearly the studio wanted us drinking, and didn’t want to take chances on crappy bubbles. I swallowed and tossed a nonchalant glance over my shoulder. Palm fronds tickled my cheek, and I turned from the inky ocean.

  Was I still upset? I mean, not this girl I was pretending to be, but the real me? By demanding I come on this boat, he’d essentially guaranteed my job for as long as I continued to work my ass off. Not that I would ever—ever—admit that to him, but I could let go of the anger. Maybe even when I was me.

  His gaze dropped to my hip as I settled it against a low planter. He swallowed and dragged his gaze upward, over my stomach, across my cleavage, and along the cords in my neck. My skin shivered beneath his scrutiny, but I drew strength from it. When his dark chocolate eyes met mine, I drew him in, let his appreciation swirl deep in my belly. His lids lowered and he stepped closer.

  I inhaled and his spicy scent mingled with the natural scents of the plants and ocean. I tucked my nose into the glass and inhaled the crisp, fruity bouquet to cleanse my senses and regain some balance.

  If I wasn’t upset, how did I respond?

  I wasn’t about to let him off the hook, and by the way he nearly drooled on my Pradas I needed to use this to my advantage. I lifted the flute to my lips, hesitated, and stared deep into his eyes while the sparkling liquid caressed my tongue. His fingers clenched around the rail. This was kind of fun. I touched my tongue to the corner of my mouth where a drop had slipped from the glass.

  He mimicked me, wetting his own lips. I’d never flirted so overtly in my entire life. His reaction was affecting me too though—and I think the real me.

  “I was pretty pissed, but I’m over it.” I lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. His eyes jerked to my exposed skin.

  “That—that’s good.” The waiter arrived and we both drained our glasses of courage. Mateo lifted two full ones and held one for me. I made sure o
ur fingers brushed when I took it, but it backfired, sending a shiver up my arm. I held myself together while his gaze bounced between my face and our fingers. I tilted my head in what I hoped was a coy direction and lifted the corners of my lips in a playful smile. My confidence strained under the weight of Stuart’s revealing info. I wanted to ask Mateo why he’d done it, but if I’d learned anything from McComb, it was “never ask a question if you’re not one hundred percent certain of the answer.”

  No matter Mateo’s response for why he’d forced the studio to put me on the show, I wasn’t prepared to handle myself coolly.

  A breeze tugged a strand across my face and it tangled against my lipstick. Before I could adjust my glass, Mateo’s hand stretched closer. My eyes clashed with his and I inhaled sharply. Time slowed and every thump of my heart measured the distance between his fingers and my skin. A feathered brush against the corner of my mouth, then another across my cheek and behind my ear as he tucked the errant strands away.

  “God, you’re stunning,” he whispered, lowering his hand.

  My lips parted, but nothing came out. Alcohol rode the tidal wave of my rapid pulse, infiltrating every sober cell I had left. Apparently my sense of reason was a cheap drunk because it was suspiciously silent. And when I needed it most. I shivered and re-tucked my hair, dropping my gaze to his hand—and those rugged fingers.

  I needed to know why he’d forced me here.

  No, I didn’t.

  An underground MMA fight broke out between my thoughts and I took another long drink, refocusing myself on playing my role. I took another drink and centered. That woman didn’t need to know men’s motivations. He’d gotten his way, and I was here. Nothing else mattered.

  Either way, I still wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep up the one-on-one act. Didn’t he need to chat up the other girls before dinner? Maybe he already had...

  I shifted in the snug surroundings. The hem of my dress brushed the cuff of his trousers, clinging to the lower half of his leg. As I straightened, the slit widened.

  Mateo gulped.

  There we go, back to normal with me in control. I fought the grin and slid my left leg forward, baring a length of leg.

  “I think—“ Mateo cleared his throat. “I think we’re having salmon for dinner. It’s probably fresh. Lunch today was good.” He shook his head. “You were there.” He was rambling, and it was the first time he’d seemed completely unsettled. Was that my doing, or was he just distracted?

  Unsure how to finish our time off, and since he was bombing our small talk, I rested my back against the top rail, intrigued at how high that move lifted my breasts. That last glass kicked in and unhooked any remaining inhibitions. Hooding my eyes, I let them rove over Mateo’s body, across his broad shoulders, down his bicep where the fabric pulled snug, across his tight abdomen. My breath hitched. I couldn’t send them any lower, but I forced them to travel the other side of his body and up to the square curve of his jaw. I gave him the tiniest smile.

  He rested one hand on the railing by my side, close enough that the air around his glass chilled my arm. He rubbed his other hand on his trousers, then jammed it in his pocket, like he’d been unsure where to set it. “You look lovely tonight.”

  “Thanks. You said that already.” Infused with bubbly confidence, a throaty chuckle escaped, and Mateo’s hand came out of his pants and tugged on a hanging string of lights. I’m making him completely uncomfortable.

  Good.

  “Maybe—“

  “Ok everybody.” Stuart interrupted Mateo’s statement and clapped his hands together. “We’re ready. Please take your seats for dinner.”

  Mateo cupped my elbow in his warm palm. His gaze slid gently across my face and he gathered himself before we stepped from the enclosure. My skin tingled where he held it and my heart pounded loud enough I could swear it was drowning out the music.

  Showtime. I’d slipped easily into this role and it was probably a good thing we were going to have a table between us for the rest of the night.

  Mateo tugged me to a stop and leaned close. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  The warmth of his breath caressed my neck, sending a spiral of tingles down my spine. I didn’t answer, but smiled and let him lead me to the table.

  Girls emerged from their cubbies and their eyes darted to Mateo’s hand. To make it worse, he dropped his other to the bare skin at the small of my back. Reactions varied. As expected, Kat narrowed her eyes and may as well have yelled “bitch” across the deck. She picked up her pace and was obviously trying to intercept a chair next to Mateo, but Kemmerie and Cassidy cut her off. Rinnae edged around us and took the chair on Mateo’s other side, leaving Kat the furthest seat. He pulled mine out, the iron legs scraping against the dock loudly. Mandy took the chair beside me.

  Water sloshed against ice cubes as the waiters filled our glasses. Everyone except Mateo and I reached for theirs at once. I smiled and accepted the reaction. Tonight, I’d come to play. Mateo lifted his champagne flute. “A toast.”

  I waited while everyone traded their water goblets for flutes and lifted them. I raised mine last and held it toward Mateo’s. Admittedly, this was fun.

  His gaze locked with mine and I held it, though the intensity made me squirm inside.

  “To an evening of unveiling mysteries.” He touched his glass to mine, then broke the gaze and clinked glasses with the rest of the table. Kat was too far away, so he lifted his glass in salute.

  She was not amused.

  I winked at her and her upper lip curled in a snarl. This was probably not how Stuart wanted me making friends, but Kat wasn’t a typical girl. She didn’t have friends, she had rivals. If I was lucky, she’d consider me a worthy opponent and we’d try to best each other. That might make the next six weeks tolerable. Law school prepared me to win—I just had no interest in winning this debasing contest that held Mateo aloft as the prize. But a game of wits against a her? Bring it.

  Dinner was another treat of delicious salad and I was ravenous. The other girls pushed their food around, but I cleaned my plate. The raspberry vinaigrette was so insane I nearly licked my fork. The Spanx pinched a little, and I assumed that reminder was enough to keep the other girls from gorging, but not me. Seemed like my clothes were always pinching these days, at least these Spanx things worked like magic underwear and nothing folded over my panties like normal... Or would have, if I’d been wearing any.

  Mandy ate half her salad and laid her fork across the plate. “So Mateo, tell us about your childhood.”

  I swallowed, and my eyes flew to his startled gaze. His glass paused at his lips, and his fingers whitened around the stem. Surely she didn’t know who he was. No matter what happened between us, I still held his deepest secret.

  “Yeah,” Rinnae said, jumping in. “What’s the craziest childhood prank you ever pulled?”

  His lips curved upward and his next breath relaxed his shoulders. Without knowing it, Rinnae diffused what could have been an uncomfortable situation while he scrambled for a childhood to match his secret identity.

  His quick recovery proved him a great storyteller, regaling the girls into laughter through dinner. My childhood was mellow in comparison to the stories tossed on the table. Instead of including myself, I listened intently, watching the girls interact with Mateo. As they flirted and giggled, I read their body language and recalled tidbits of prior conversations. Nothing stood out as a reason for concern, but maybe that was the champagne... or Mateo’s laughter... or my own enjoyment from playing someone else tonight.

  Champagne poured into my half-empty glass and I sipped it. What would tomorrow bring now I’d opened this Pandora’s Box? Not only had I enticed Mateo with heady promises, but I’d agreed to a deal with the devil, and he was bound to collect.

  Bubbles flowed down my throat. Was I in over my head? I’d never in my life attempted to entice a man—It was too much work avoiding them.

  Stuart arrived as the staff cleared our dinner
plates. He winked and stood behind Mateo’s chair, his hands on the back. “As you know, our first stop is Key West. We’ll arrive tomorrow night, and dinner will be on land. We’ll also be revealing the first piece of the treasure hunt.”

  Gasps split the still night air and I choked on my champagne.

  CHAPTER

  WHY DID THE sun have to be so bright? After breakfast—by myself because those other drunk hung-over bastards skipped—I’d put on the only swimsuit Wardrobe saw fit to give me—a ridiculously tiny green bikini—and retreated to the bow of the boat with my Bloody Mary and a book I’d pilfered out of the library.

  My head pounded. Going back to sleep should have been my priority, but that had never worked for me. Once I was up, I was up, even after a night that ended just before dawn and Champagne bottles that numbered in the double digits. The boat lurched over another wave and I groaned. I hoped those drunk bitches were puking their brains out below deck. Had I known breakfast was optional, I wouldn’t have left my room before noon.

  This morning I’d pulled my hair up in my usual bun, and managed to scrub most of my makeup off, but my eyelashes were apparently permanent and I didn’t mind them. A warm wind tugged strands of my hair free and they tickled my back.

  After struggling for a few minutes with the blurry words, I adjusted my shades, made it through another paragraph, and turned the page. A pair of boat shoes and crossed ankles popped into the corner of my vision. My heart sped up. Those ankles were too sexy to be Stuart’s.

  Of course Mateo would come looking for me—especially after last night. Not sure how that hadn’t occurred to me. That I’d picked the most obscure, out-of-the way space wasn’t lost on me either though. This had been a deliberate search to find me, which was nice compliment. Waves crashed against the bow while I tried to calm my racing heart and decide which me I wanted to be today—the sexy sultry tease from last night, or my boring self.

  The real me wanted to jump overboard, so maybe I could be a little of both.