Victoria's Secret Wish

by Piper Denna

  Mick relaxed back in his seat and took a deep drink. “I’m going to be honest. I definitely want to write the articles for the cruise. But I’d like to write the bio as a separate project. You fascinate me.” His eyes glittered, and he clutched his drink. “Both of you fascinate me. How you maintain your relationship with all the sex around you–how you keep yourselves separate. If you do, that is. I’d love to shadow you and learn all the intricacies.”

  The reporter crossed his legs. Bloody hell, did he have a hard-on? This fucking guy wanted Vic!

  Silence in the room as Vic swallowed, and raised her eyes to Brett again. Did she want Mick? He was certainly fit enough, and as other men went, attractive.

  Perhaps he’d be the person they were looking for.

  “Why don’t we, er…get back to you on that count, Mick?” Brett stood, indicating Mick should do the same. “Today is a big day, and we’ve got plenty on our agenda. Not the least of which is going out to greet our celebrity guests in about ten minutes.”

  Chapter 4

  “Well. Now that the beautiful people have all been coddled…” Victoria heaved a sigh. “Except Carmyn and Mark. And they won’t be here until it’s almost time to shove off.”

  “Shall we go watch the normal shmucks arrive, then?” Britt asked.

  “Yes, let’s. But from the Alto deck, over by the bridge. I’d rather not talk to anybody else for a few minutes.” They’d have a great view of passengers crossing the gangway below.

  So far, everything was going off without a hitch. This project had only taken them a year, half the time it had taken to get Fantasy Mountain up and running.

  “I don’t know,” Britt said beside her, looking down at the boarding passengers. “Looks to me like most of those are beautiful people too. And get an eyeful at all those cougars…meow. Perhaps we should spend the evening down on the cougar deck tonight?”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “Just like at the Mountain, initially we’ll attract the more confident, oversexed types. But by the third or fourth voyage, your average libidos will start showing up. And stay away from those cougars if you know what’s good for you, laddie.”

  His warm lips nibbled her ear lobe. “I keep telling you. Laddie is an Irish term. No self-respecting Londoner would use it.”

  Crowds of singles and clusters of couples filed onto the deck below, checking in with attendants for directions to their rooms.

  “Yeah, well. You’re no Londoner now, anyway. You’re mine, all American. Oh! Look who it is!”

  “Who’s that, love?”

  “He registered as Bo Davidson. See him down there in the red ball cap?”

  Britt nodded against her neck.

  “That’s David Roman, Olympic gold-medal swimmer.”

  “Incognito, is he? Why didn’t he opt for the helipad arrival, if he’s here in secret?”

  “I’m dying to know. Unlike other celebrities, he’s not traveling under his real name–”

  “Like your old pal Rafe Wyndham, who held a press conference down on the dock, to tell the world how well the ED drug he endorses is working?” If Britt had been a dog, all his hairs would’ve been on end.

  Best to make light of it and move on. “My old pal? You’re the one who attended university with him, right old chap?”

  “That wasn’t by choice, and let’s not forget you shagged him–”

  “In the old days. Before I was yours.” She patted his hand, now circled around her middle. Rafe was obnoxious, but he also provided all sorts of wonderful publicity, the type money couldn’t buy. “Anyway. Back to our swimmer. Remember all that trouble he had last year at the summer Olympics, when he got busted for underage drinking?”

  “Two days before his twenty-first, yeah?”

  “Poor kid can’t get out of the media lights for a second. They tail him no matter where he goes, and twist everything into trouble.”

  “And yet, I don’t see any paps in his wake.” Photographers followed lots of action from the dock. Several trained their cameras on her and Britt, as usual, but none seemed particularly interested in the guy with the ball cap. “How’d he manage to get on a sex cruise without them knowing?”

  “I’m dying to know that, too. But I have a notion it involves his twin brother.”

  “Twin brother. You don’t say?”

  She watched David–Bo–unfold a map of the ship and look up for signs. Damn, he was beautiful, even with that incognito stubble. Like a model for one of those Roman god statues, blond, tanned, and buff to the max.

  “Vic? How’d you know so much about this bloke?”

  “Hmm? Mm. Google.”

  “You’re breathing fast.”

  “You’ve been nibbling my neck for ten minutes.” She was breathing fast, though. And though she should look away before Britt noticed her staring, she couldn’t. It appeared David–Bo–had found his bearing. He started off to the right, but then paused and looked right up at her. Good Lord, those blue, blue eyes. Almost as sink-into-able as Britt’s.

  His head tilted to one side. Did he recognize her? Possibly. Her picture seemed to be everywhere these days, and it was widely publicized that she’d be on this cruise.

  Where was her professional demeanor? She lifted a hand and waved.

  “Your pulse is racing.” Britt’s voice was husky. “We’re going to meet this David, straightaway.” He waved down too.

  David gave a small wave back, then hefted his pack onto his shoulder and went off toward the passenger suites.

  “You’ve got to be the most unorthodox husband ever.” How could Britt possibly want to introduce his wife to a man who turned her on with a look? Who, in all honesty–though how would Britt know?–had made her wet with a look.

  “Every man wants to see his woman aroused, Vic. Just get used to the idea that I’m going to see your fantasy fulfilled on this trip.”

  Should she ask him if he felt attracted to David too? Britt hadn’t guessed all of her fantasy. She didn’t just want to be with two men at once. She wanted the men actively participating with each other. To see Britt fondle another man. Hoo, boy. She got hot just thinking about it. But maybe she’d spring that part of the fantasy on him later.

  “Let’s go to our suite so you can change out of those wet panties, love.”

  “Funny. We’re due at the christening-launching ceremony in fifteen.”

  “Pity. I suppose you’ll have to suffer the discomfort, then. I think we should host a little dinner soiree in the suite tonight. Invite Carmyn and Mark, and young David.”

  Her pulse had just slowed; now it kicked up again. “What if he doesn’t want to come?”

  “Vic. Be serious. Who wouldn’t accept that invite? It would be tantamount to turning down an invitation to dine with the captain. Besides, I saw how he looked at you. He’ll not turn it down.”

  “Publicity wanted us visible in the dining room tonight. That damn reporter is supposed to eat with us.”

  “If your David is hiding out, he won’t want to eat with that guy.”

  “Would you stop calling him my David? He’s just a swimmer. Somebody I Googled. You may not have noticed, but I Google a lot of clients.”

  “If you say so, love. You want to invite him to dinner, or no?”

  Much as it pained her to admit… “Yes.” For one thing, she really wanted to learn his media-avoidance techniques. “We’ll send a note to the captain that we’ve changed plans and are dining in. If we don’t tell Mick, he’ll show up there as planned. Which is fine. Maybe he’ll decide to do a bio on Captain Bekyros. Who knows, maybe the captain will decide to speak more than two words.”

  * * * *

  Gil left the heliport restroom a happy man. The iPad was gone, which meant while he’d been ferrying the rich and famous, his little blogger friend had come through for him, found a reason to sneak up to the top deck and retrieved it. Well, maybe. Either that, or… No. Surely somebody else hadn’t come snooping around and found it? Shit.

  H
e should’ve had her leave him some sign so he’d know she’d been the one to pick it up. Stupidass.

  The damn ship would be sailing soon. If he didn’t take off now, he’d have that much longer to fly home tonight. Fuck it. He’d stick around to watch the christening. After all, one day this would all be partly his. After all the publicity hoopla died down, he’d find Little Miss Gossip Girl and make sure his eagle had landed–in the right nest.

  Chapter 5

  “Who’d you say this other guest is?” Carmyn ran her manicured fingers along the top of a plush settee. Her perfectly highlighted hair had probably taken her five minutes to pull back in a chignon, but of course looked glamorous. Especially paired with a slinky gold cocktail dress.

  Victoria had specifically said casual dress. She’d slipped into a comfy sundress and low-heeled sandals, and now would look like the ugly stepsister compared to Carmyn. Why hadn’t she expected that? “Bo Davidson.” She sat back on the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table. It had been such a long day for her feet.

  “Anyone we’d know?” Mark quirked a brow from over at the bar area.

  “Um. Probably not. His registration intrigued me.”

  Britt smirked.

  Carmyn and Mark shared a look, then shrugged.

  Time for a subject change, before she started stressing about whether David would show. “Cute, how you two both shrugged. You know, you’re both starting to have the same mannerisms. How many years is your next anniversary?”

  “Fifteen,” Mark replied. “And just wait ’til you see what I’m getting Carmyn.”

  Carmyn’s eyes lit and she fluttered her lashes at Mark. Amazing, how they still flirted after all this time.

  “Fifteen years,” Britt muttered. “That’s a lot of bloody luggage handling.”

  “Oh, do shut up.” Carmyn laughed and flipped Britt the bird. “Why don’t you hire yourself a personal assistant to do that for you, if you’re so burdened?”

  Britt only grinned and saluted her with his drink. A knock at the door caused him to pause midway to his mouth.

  Oh God. Showtime. Maybe David had backed out and it was only their dinner servers? Hopefully. No, that would suck. Or would it? She rose to her feet and smoothed her dress, while Britt got the door.

  “Well, hello there, Mr. uh…” Britt paused with his hand extended. Oh, good grief. Britt was terrible with names in the first place. No way would he be able to keep track of the different identities. “David.”

  “Son.” The other man hesitated, but stepped forward and shook Britt’s hand. “Davidson. Bo.” He wore a snug black shirt, new-looking jeans and bright white sneakers.

  “Er, yes. Brett Grant. Yes, of course.” Britt regained his composure and when David’s back was turned, mopped his brow in mock fashion. “Introductions, then. You know this is my wife, Victoria.”

  She stepped forward, hoping she wouldn’t twist an ankle in that infernally deep carpeting. David’s handshake was warm, firm, and his eyes…impossibly blue, and perfect with such a bright smile.

  “It’s, um, great to meet you,” he said.

  Did she really have to let go of his hand? Probably. “Likewise. Thanks for coming.”

  Britt cleared his throat. Crap. Was he jealous? No, smiling. And a real smile, not the Negotiation Smirk. “And these are our friends, Mark and Carmyn Fenton.”

  David’s mouth fell open. “Oh wow. I loved you in that last Bond movie as the villainess.” He rushed forward to shake hands with Mark–briefly–and then Carmyn. “You’re my mother’s favorite actress.”

  Carmyn laughed. “Ah, that wasn’t acting, hon. Ask my kids–that’s how I really am. Evil.”

  Clearly starstruck, David beamed. “Wow. Just…wow. Thanks for inviting me.” He turned to Britt. “It’s amazing in here.”

  “A bit decadent, but we wanted it to be vacation-y,” Britt answered. “Here, how ’bout a look around? Of course this is the bar, and living area. Then we’ve an extra bedroom over there behind that door, with its own loo, a guest loo here, and here– Come on, this is the master suite.”

  David followed Britt, and Victoria’s gaze followed David.

  “Killer ass,” Carmyn said.

  She should chide Carmyn and tell her to lower her voice, but… “God.” Killer ass was right.

  “Now who is he really?” Carmyn put on the demanding mom-face.

  No way was she giving him up. “He registered as Bo Davidson. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

  “Great. Now I’ll spend the entire dinner trying to guess his identity. My digestion will suffer, and it’s your fault.”

  Victoria laughed. Silly theatrics. “Whatever. I think I can live with causing you that sort of distress.” Britt and David seemed to be spending an awful lot of time in the bedroom. Surely Britt wouldn’t try to talk him into anything so soon?

  “…and now we’ll head out to the veranda,” Britt said, entering the living room. “We’ve our own hot tub, and a private pool. Disappearing edge–or infinity, I believe it’s called. Quite ingenious, no? Of course, pools probably don’t excite you in the least. Bit like taking work home with you, eh?”

  Silence.

  Victoria stepped outside, with Carmyn and Mark right behind her.

  “Er, right.” Britt picked up where he’d left off. “Here’s a changing room, another bar, and a nice outdoor seating area for dinners and the like.”

  “It’s, uh…nice.” David coughed. “And very private.”

  “I insisted on that,” Britt answered. “No one on the ship can see into this deck area, and from what I can tell, it’s damn hard to see from the air as well.” Another knock at the door sent Britt back to answer it.

  “So, Bo.” Carmyn moved close to him. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

  David did a cute little wiggle thing where he looked like he’d crawl out of his skin if he could. He took a deep breath and said, “I’m a semipro surfer. We’re based out of Hawaii, but we do travel the circuit.”

  Carmyn narrowed her eyes at him.

  “A few guys I met earlier down on the Lido deck said they’ve seen me on the Surf Network.” A small smile tugged the corners of his mouth up. God, he looked even cuter when he was up to no good.

  “Thank God you’re going to tell us the truth though, right?” Carmyn coaxed.

  David chewed his lip and looked sideways at Mark.

  Well, at least she could reassure him. “No need to worry about Carmyn and Mark,” Victoria said. “They’ve introduced many a celebrity to me who wanted to be clients of Fantasy Mountain.”

  “My real name is David Roman.”

  Mark snapped his fingers. “The swimmer! You took gold in the 400-meter freestyle. That was my event in college!”

  Carmyn shook her head. “You’ve had one hellish time with the ’razzi. No wonder you’re traveling under an alias.”

  “Dinner has arrived,” Britt called from inside. “Surf and turf.”

  They filed into the dining area, where the servers had already set out condiments and were busy filling wine glasses. Each place setting included a silver-domed platter. Fast and efficient, the servers finished, left the wine bottle near the head of the table and rolled their cart out the door.

  When the door had shut, Mark said, “Top-notch service. On the payroll, or volunteers?”

  “Mia and Ron are employees who transferred here from the Mountain,” Victoria answered. “They serve five first-class suites and ours. They also head the wait staff. The temporary crew members were all assigned to berths where the passengers had crew fantasies.” She took a seat to the right of Britt, who’d taken the spot at the head of the table. Mark settled next to her. Carmyn sat across from Mark–knowing Carmyn, there’d be a foot job before dinner was over–and next to David, who pushed her chair in and then eased into the chair to Britt’s left.

  “Oh, yum. God, lobster.” Carmyn had lifted the lid from her food and looked all but orgasmic. “Your chefs always know how t
o prepare it best. They’ve ruined me for eating it anywhere else.”

  Knowing it was Carmyn’s favorite, Victoria had ordered it specially for her. She’d be forever indebted to Carmyn for all the help getting her business off the ground. Or rather, out of the basement. “Only the best for you, dahlink.” She smiled across the table and lifted her glass. “To smooth sailing and beautiful sunsets.”

  Crystal clinked, and they drank.

  “To my lovely Vic, for dreaming all this up.” Britt raised his glass; they clinked and drank again.

  “To my lovely Britt, for making it all worth dreaming up.” She leaned toward him for a quick, soft kiss, while the others toasted.

  “To hell with all this toasting, let’s eat!” Mark said.

  * * * *

  Ah, there she was. “Hey, baby.” Gil tapped his little gossip fiend on the shoulder and blew in her ear.

  She didn’t turn around, just arched into him. “Hey.”

  “I saw you paying close attention up at the christening ceremony.” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Get something good for your first blog?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She reached her hands behind her, up to his neck. “I promised you won’t be disappointed.”

  She had a firm little ass to go with those big knockers. He figured she’d be giving as much fun as she’d get on this cruise. Not with him, though. All he needed from her was a nice, biased blog. “See that I’m not, if you want that bonus. I take it you’re in possession of the equipment?”

  She nodded and bumped her ass crack tighter against his crotch. One hot, slutty little number. And in that thong, she didn’t keep much secret.

  He threw her a bone and gave the ass a good squeeze. “Okay. Gotta fly, but I’ll check in with you next time I’m around. Probably Friday.”

  Lowering her head to the left, she gave him access to a nice length of neck. “Sure you don’t wanna stick around and help me get warmed up?”

  He laughed and nibbled her neck. She wasn’t quite his type. “I’d love to, but I might ruin you for the passengers. And that just wouldn’t do, would it?”