2
“STOP RIGHT THERE.” Joe grabbed the wrist of the man trying to smear something on his eye.
The guy’s lips flattened. He shoved his free hand on his hip, threw his head back and called out, “Ms. Pendleton!” in a high voice.
Joe searched the crowded suite for his nemesis. The place was a circus this morning. Though he had to admit, the accommodations were nice. This suite was a mirror image of his.
Last night he’d slept better than he expected. The shower head was too low, but that was par for him. The king-size bed had been comfortable, there was a sofa and a table with seating for two and the cabin even had a balcony.
But he’d barely gotten himself a cup of coffee this morning before someone had knocked on his door to escort him here. He’d been dragged to a chair in front of a lighted mirror and a woman started trying to cut his hair.
There had to be at least a dozen people in this cabin. Still, he easily found Carly Pendleton. She was the type to stand out in a crowd. Tall and slim, but she had curves in all the right places. Her skirt and blouse hugged her figure as if they’d been made for her. Which, come to think of it, they probably had. And her long, thick brunette hair had not a strand out of place, even at seven in the morning.
But her best feature was her eyes. They were the color of arctic ice. A light blue so vivid they could capture a man’s gaze and freeze him where he stood, make him her prisoner until she deigned to set him free.
He shivered just thinking about being trapped in her frigid world. A man could get frostbite.
At the call of her name, Ms. Pendleton glanced over at the makeup guy, took another moment to nod and shake her head at a selection of clothing a woman held, and then walked over.
Just watching her walk riveted Joe’s attention. The way she held her shoulders back and her chin slightly lifted, as if she was noble-born. She’d probably attended one of those fancy boarding schools. Surely, her father would’ve been able to afford it.
The only thing he remembered about her father’s investment scandal was that his wife had claimed complete innocence of his scheme. The fact that the crook had a kid had barely registered.
“What is it, Christoph?”
“The gentleman won’t let me apply liner to his eyes.”
She trained those icy blues on him. “Joe, I realize it seems emasculating, but the sunlight and the camera will wash out your eyes without a little liner. Surely you’re confident enough in your masculinity to allow a tiny bit of makeup?”
Oh, well, if she was going to challenge his masculinity... He folded his arms. “No.”
Irritation sparked in her eyes. Hmm, the ice queen heated up. This could be fun.
She straightened her shoulders and folded her arms, too. His attention fixed on the outline of her lace bra through her thin silk blouse.
“Mr. Tedesco.”
He imagined her only in delicate lacy lingerie, some sheer stockings and those ridiculously high heels of hers. Barely cutting off a groan, he scanned the room for a pitcher of water. His throat was dry.
“Mr. Tedesco? I already have one diva to deal with and she hasn’t even deigned to show up yet.” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Joe! Are you listening?”
“What?” He pulled his mind back from the beginnings of a sensual daydream. Noticed the bottle of water on the table beside him and grabbed it.
“I was saying that the liner won’t be at all noticeable in the final version of the photo.”
He twisted the cap off, gulped a few swallows and dried his lips on his sleeve. “In that case...” He leaned forward and she leaned in, too. “It’s still no.”
She jerked back, her eyes flared, anger spitting. Her perfectly shaped lips pinched. Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply. Then her face relaxed and she gave him a saccharine sweet smile. “Fine. We wouldn’t want your Man Card revoked, now would we?” She trained her eyes on the makeup guy. “Christoph, just a light dusting of powder on the nose so he doesn’t shine like Rudolph.”
Her gaze zapped back to Joe. “Unless you’re too manly for that?”
He grinned. “That’s fine.” No woman had ever talked to him this way before. Was this how all Manhattan women were? He’d lived in Brooklyn all his life, and the only women he hung around had known him since elementary school. To them he was Little Joey, the high school football hero.
“Thank you so much. Is there anything else I should obtain your permission on before I resume directing my photo shoot?”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”
Her fake smile disappeared. “Tony,” she called to a young man fiddling with some photo equipment. “Make sure the lighting on our Average Joe is filtered so he doesn’t wash out.” Then she spun on her heels and stalked back to the other side of the room.
She had the temper of a back-alley dog. And he had a feeling her bite was worse than her bark.
* * *
“NO, THAT’S NOT WORKING.” Carly heaved a sigh and shook her head. Honestly, she didn’t know which one was worse, the high maintenance supermodel or the infuriatingly bullheaded contest winner. It didn’t help that her stomach was churning and her head felt as if someone had jammed an ice pick in her temples. Didn’t everyone else feel the ship listing from side to side?
She steeled herself to approach the couple. Piper must be handled with kid gloves. And Joe, well, Carly had to fight to keep her mind on business when she went near the guy.
“Piper, you’re looking just gorgeous with the turquoise water behind you. Really brings out your eyes.” They’d positioned the deck chairs against the railing and the Caribbean Sea sparkled in the warm sun. There was a tang of salt in the humid air. Humph. Carly would take New York cab exhaust any day.
Piper merely rolled said eyes. “You need to hurry this up. I’m tired and bored. And thirsty. Someone bring me a Bloody Mary.”
Carly clenched her teeth and bit back what she wanted to say. “Yes, I’ll get that ordered right away, but if I could just ask you to try to look more interested in Joe, for just a few moments?”
Piper raised a delicate brow that got lost in the fringe of her bangs. “I am.”
“Yes, well, maybe a little more, please? And Joe.” Carly focused her attention on his right shoulder. “When you’re turned facing Piper in the deck chair, just turn from your waist, not your legs. Leave your legs facing forward please.”
“Like this?” The man spread his knees and, whether intentionally or not, he seemed to flex his thigh muscles.
Now she was staring and Carly felt her face heat. She spun away, pretending to check the position of the sun.
When she could face him once more, she studied his shoulder again. “Yes, but you have to be turned toward Piper from the waist up.” She cupped his shoulders to swivel his upper body. Her hands met rigid muscle beneath the starched cotton dress shirt. Heat radiated from him, scorching her palms. And there was that scent again. His cologne or shampoo, whatever it was made her knees weak. Or maybe that was just part of the seasickness.
“Not that I care, but you’re wrinkling the Armani here,” Joe said in a low tone.
Carly blinked, saw that her hands were gripping his arms, lifted them off and stepped away. “It’s Hilfiger,” she mumbled.
One side of his mouth crooked up in a smirk. But he laid his arm along the back of Piper’s deck chair and turned from the waist exactly as Carly had asked.
Impressed, she headed for the camera to check the frame and, as she looked through the lens, Joe lifted his other hand to cup Piper’s cheek and turn her to face him. He said something and flashed that dazzling smile and Piper actually smiled back.
Carly straightened and motioned for the photographer to step in and snap the picture. What had Joe said to Piper? As the camera snapped away, he spoke to the model again and her expression turned sultry, her eyes half-lidded. She stared at Joe as if she were about to rip his clothes off. Unbelievable.
Carly gaped as the two models
spoke in whispered tones, their heads moving toward each other, their lips almost touching. The cameraman clicked pictures from every angle, encouraging them. Piper unbuttoned Joe’s shirt and slipped a hand inside, rubbing her fingers over his chest. Then her hand dropped to his thigh, over his denim shorts, but inching her way to—
“That’s great!” Carly yelled. “Thank you, everyone.” She moved forward to stand before Piper, who’d, thankfully, removed her hand from Joe’s thigh, even if she did radiate annoyance.
Too bad. Carly’s headache had worsened and she wasn’t in the mood to indulge the diva. She bent from the waist to scrutinize Piper’s face. “We’re done for today, but be sure to get a good night’s sleep. We have an early morning shoot and there’s only so much makeup can do for dark circles.”
Piper gasped, and then narrowed those light green eyes to glare at Carly. “If I have dark circles it’s because the cabin you put me in is deplorable! I can’t sleep there. You’ll have to find me something larger. On a higher deck. And while you’re at it—”
“I’m afraid there are no other rooms larger than what you have.” Carly clenched her fists around her clipboard. “I can look into seeing if there are any cabins available on a higher deck, but—”
“Then do it!” The prima donna pushed up out of the deck chair and stomped off in a high-heeled huff.
Joe got to his feet. A smitten half grin quirked his lips as he watched Piper walk away, her pert little butt perfectly displayed in the white designer short-shorts. Of course Joe would be attracted to Ms. Exotic.
Carly spun to face her lighting and camera crew. “Tomorrow we dock in Grand Turk at 7:00 a.m. Be ready to disembark at 6:45. I’ve reserved a chartered plane and want to head to the Caicos Islands. Take whatever special equipment you might need for shooting outdoors, and inside a cave. We have to be back on the ship by 7:00 p.m., and Thursday we disembark at Half Moon Cay. I want shots on the white sandy beaches there, Friday we’ll only shoot for a few hours in Nassau. It’s all on your itinerary I handed out yesterday after the safety drill. Any questions?”
In the silence of shaking heads she turned back around and saw Joe was fingering a tiny slip of paper. Was that Piper’s room number? Was he going to meet her there tonight? Or...had they slept together already?
Ignoring the sharp pinch in her stomach, she gave her attention to the crew disassembling the photo equipment. But she felt Joe’s presence behind her. She turned to face him. “My recommendation pertains to you, too, Mr. Tedesco.”
“Recommendation?” His grin had disappeared and his brows rose. His chest exposed by the unbuttoned shirt was taut and tanned with a light dusting of hair.
Carly diverted her gaze to his face. “Yes. To get a good night’s sleep. I can’t have my Sexiest Average Joe showing up tomorrow looking haggard and unkempt.”
He scowled and took a step closer to her. “Unkempt?”
His bronze skin gleamed in the sunlight that also played in his breeze-ruffled black hair. She remembered he was a fireman and probably worked out to maintain his muscular physique. His shoulders blocked her view of anything but him, and her knees wanted to buckle. Her knees? Weak? Over a man she barely knew? What was she, some pathetic romance-novel heroine? It was just that she hadn’t eaten today yet. She probably had low blood sugar. And with her height, she was unaccustomed to men looming over her. He was invading her personal space. So, naturally his overwhelming frame felt...well, overwhelming.
“Unkempt. It means disheveled, messy, slovenly.”
He folded his arms and his biceps bulged. “I know what it means.” His mouth was a grim line. He looked irritated.
“Good. Then perhaps whatever you’re planning for tonight can be postponed until I’ve finished my photo shoot.”
His face crinkled up in a confused expression. “What do you think I have planned for tonight?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. I realize she’s beautiful and glamorous. What guy could resist that? But until—”
“Look, lady.” He dropped his arms to place his hands low on his hips and half turned away. Then he leaned toward her. “First of all, if I wanted her, I wouldn’t be deterred by an uptight, bossy, arrogant—” he clamped his mouth shut “—woman,” he finished between his teeth.
Carly’s temper flared. “Uptight? Just because I don’t lose control and crawl all over you like Ms. Supermodel?”
He raised his brows and smiled. “So, you want to crawl all over me?”
All that raw sex appeal wrapped in a killer grin. Despite her irritation, she pictured herself in his lap, their mouths exploring one another, her hands all over his six feet four inches of gleaming muscles. The air whooshed from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She was horrified. Mortified. “No!” She dragged in a breath. “I mean, that is not at all what I was saying.” She clamped her mouth shut and folded her arms in front of her. “Just...” She waved a hand in his direction. “Be on time tomorrow.” She stalked away. And heard him chuckle behind her.
The thought of him in Piper’s bed, rolling around in the sheets with her, naked, made Carly’s chest feel hollow. But...maybe she’d get the best photos of them if they were sleeping together? Just like a few moments ago, they’d been cooing at each other like lovebirds and the results had been fantastic.
So, let them have at it, what did she care? Besides, Joe was practically an employee. How awkward would a one-night stand be with him when they had to work together the next few days?
And maybe if she kept repeating all those excuses to herself, she could keep from throwing herself at him and ripping his clothes off....
She knew what her problem was. It’d been a long time since Reese had moved out. She just missed being touched. Missed a warm body beside her at night.
But losing Reese had been inevitable. She should never have moved in with him. And she didn’t blame him for leaving. He hadn’t understood her drive to succeed. He’d complained about her long hours at the apparel factory, and then coming home at night to work on her blog.
Now, her years of sacrifice had paid off with this remarkable opportunity from Modiste. And she wasn’t going to let anything ruin it. The success of her blog depended on this photo shoot. And the success of this photo shoot depended on making her troublesome supermodel happy.
She’d thought that when Modiste hired Piper to pose with her contest winner, the controversial model might draw more entries and consequently more followers, but now she wasn’t sure Piper was worth it. The woman was petulant, whiny and demanding. She’d shown up over an hour late this morning with no excuse or apology.
But the photos they’d taken of her and Joe were golden. Carly could picture them on the cover of Modiste magazine. If everything worked out as she hoped, maybe she could get the editor at Modiste to agree to sponsor a Sexiest Average Jane contest next season. And with her Carly’s Couture blog linked to the bestselling magazine she was insured success. Then, maybe the Pendleton name would come to be associated with something other than heartless greed.
But first she had to see the captain about a vacant cabin on a higher deck.
3
PIPER SPUN ON the dance floor, gyrating her hips to the beat of the deafening rock music. With her eyes closed, she lost herself in the thumping bass and flashing lights. The crowds of young, carefree people dancing all around her were her sanctuary.
She loved nightclubs. She loved champagne and loud music and having men fall all over themselves to be with her. And the freedom to tell them to get lost. Ahhh, the freedom. She’d missed that in rehab.
Thank the gods her agent had gotten her out of that place! Her counselor had wanted to discuss the past. But Piper the Supermodel had no past. Anju Rajaraman was dead. She’d died eight years ago in the slums of Calcutta. She was Piper now. And Piper would never go back to being that starving, powerless little girl.
Why was she thinking of those days? She was here to have fun.
She lifted her arms above he
r head and spun again, checking out the men in the cruise ship’s nightclub.
Her gaze strayed to the adjoining piano bar and landed on the tall, dark and sexy hunk of man she’d posed with all day. He’d told her that Carly was wrong. That her eyes made the turquoise water seem dull in comparison. Mmm, yes, he was interesting.
Running her hands through her hair, she danced her way over to the glass door and entered the quieter room. A few passengers were scattered around intimate little tables. Joe sat at one of them, nursing a tumbler of amber-colored liquid.
“Come dance with me?”
He looked up from his glass into her eyes, glanced over at the nightclub dance floor, and then met her gaze again with a grimace. “Not really my thing.”
Piper pouted, but took the other chair, crossing her legs and leaning her elbows on the table. The skimpy, sparkly dress had a draped bodice that showed off her cleavage when she bent over. She watched his gaze take in the view. “Buy me a drink?”
His eyes rose to her face again. “Sure.” He motioned to the waitress. “What’ll you have?”
“Appletini,” she ordered when the waitress appeared. After she left, Piper sat back and lifted her hair off the back of her neck. “So, a New York firefighter, huh?”
He nodded. “Brooklyn.”
“And you go around saving lives?”
He shrugged. “A few.”
Humility? It must be an act. Men were never what they seemed. Eventually, he’d show his true stripes. Then she would shut him down. She leaned forward again and slid a finger up his sleeve. “Don’t be so modest.”
His gaze followed her fingers and then looked up into her eyes. “Uh...”
“Don’t you want—”
He took her hand and moved it back to the table. “You’re a beautiful woman, Piper, but—”
“Never mind. You think I would actually be with a fireman from...Brooklyn?” Grabbing her Appletini, she scooted her chair back, stood and returned to the nightclub. After she downed the drink in one swallow, she ordered another from the bar and then joined the crowd on the dance floor.
Cabin Fever Page 2
