So Lola lotioned—no, she anointed—herself. Then she ate the fabulous lobster stir-fry Aric had ordered up from the galley, while he dried and arranged her hair in a sleek topknot with a riot of ringlets springing out of it. Not a style she’d ever consider in the real world, and yet…there was something very goddesslike about appearing younger and more spontaneous and—
“Very sophisticated. Yet playful.” Aric circled her, studying the overall effect of his efforts in the vanity mirror.
“That’s what you tell all the captain’s girls, right?” Lola eyed the lanky young man with a thoughtful eye, trying to figure out if his talents in cosmetology meant anything. Like, about his sexual preferences.
“So how’d you get into doing hair?” she fished as she tested the spring in those ringlets. “Or did you just write ‘miracle worker’ on your job app, so Skandalis hired you?”
There was that secretive grin again, as he peered at her from beneath his own tousled curls.
“I’m not done yet, Priestess,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. “Sit still, or Cinderella’s gonna be late for the ball.”
He worked the same sort of magic with her makeup, using the cosmetics she’d brought from home. He made her eyes grow greener and more feline with a flick of the eyeliner. Gave her a polished, classy glow she’d never achieved on her own.
Lola could only stare into the mirror, wondering who that woman was; believing the Priestess had emerged for real, and could make men kneel at her feet. A goddess like that could make the captain beg for it!
“Whatever’s on your mind right now, hold that thought!” her warden murmured. “Now let’s get you downstairs for an evening gown—”
“And what’s wrong with mine? I’ve got a black strapless number that—”
His raised eyebrow shut her up again. The kid was way too good at that move—and Lola was feeling way too good to jinx this new mood he’d created with face paints and hair spray.
By God, she’d show Captain Scandalous who he was dealing with! She’d play by his rules, all right—but this time she’d win!
Why wasn’t she surprised that Clive Kingsley, the courtly concierge, awaited them in the boutique Aric escorted her to? These guys on the Aphrodite must take as much time conferring on their walkie-talkies as teenage girls spent on their cell phones.
She didn’t complain, however. The dapper Brit had set aside three of the most exquisite dresses she’d ever seen, in colors that called out to her. And all of them were her size.
Lola tried not to gape like a clueless schoolgirl as she admired each of the gowns. “But how did you know—”
“You’re not the only one who has a practiced eye at…sizing things up,” he replied with a smug smile. “And sometimes, others have a different impression of us because they have a fresh focus. I’ve chosen colors and designs you might not try on your own, assuming they just wouldn’t be you.”
Oh, but each of these gowns spoke to something deep within her: the woman who would be Queen, but feared someone would lift the hem of her royal robe and discover her scuzzy sneakers. While she could make an ordinary businessman look like a million bucks, Lola Wright spent little time choosing her own wardrobe. Tailored suits with blouses and pumps got her through nearly every occasion.
So what a treat it was, to revel in the first gown’s diaphanous layers of pale ivory, and then to giggle at the glitzy way its iridescent beads flashed like shooting stars. When she tried it on, she felt like a fairy princess—until she stepped in front of the mirror in the main room.
Two red bull’s eyes and a patch of thatch jumped out at her.
“My God, you can see right through the—well, you can see everything,” she said with a gulp.
Clive smiled, his gaze wandering below her waist as he smoothed the shoulder seams.
“Perhaps a wax job and some nail polish remover would be the thing before you wore this one. Or not,” he added with a coy shrug. “Bait your hook for whomever you’re trying to catch, my dear.”
Right. That wild, wonderful lover I’m about to meet.
“I’m sure you’ll agree that wearing a slip would ruin the effect.”
Rolling her eyes at the concierge—a man who obviously enjoyed this part of his job—Lola took the second dress into the fitting room. Sleek and smooth, made of deep green satin, it seemed a better choice because it at least covered her uh, assets.
“I chose this one to accent your lovely hair and eyes, of course,” Kingsley crooned. “But don’t let that limit you! A gorgeous girl like yourself can wear a kaleidoscope of colors well! And your figure is so suited to styles most women can’t carry off. You should celebrate that.”
Celebrating herself! Now there was a novel concept!
Yet it impressed Lola anew as she slipped into a gown of eggplant and claret stripes: it left one shoulder bare and set the other off with a pleated sleeve cap that rose boldly into the air like a butterfly wing. Wayyyy too out-there and Parisian for a girl who grew up in Oregon! She only kept it on to humor the kind concierge, yet she was amazed by what she saw when she stepped in front of the triple mirror outside the dressing room.
“I look like someone from a different galaxy or—”
The hisssssss that escaped as Clive exhaled shut her up. And when he met her gaze in the mirror, over her bare shoulder, Lola swore she saw smoke from the fire in those blue eyes.
“Guess I’d better take this one, huh?”
“No one else can even try it on, now that I’ve seen you in it.”
She felt a glow inside, yet habit made her reach for the price tag. Kingsley, however, grabbed it first and deftly tore the paper from its string.
“We’re charging these to the captain’s account,” he murmured. “And since you’re working off debts Mr. Fletcher left you, you might as well have something to show for it. Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, remember.”
“But I couldn’t dream of—”
“Why not?”
Clive kissed her hand, challenging her with the glint in his eye. “If you can’t dream here, on Fantasy Cruise Lines, then where? After all, you’re appearing in the ballroom at Skorpio’s command. If he’s going to play, he’s going to pay.”
Finally! A man who’s not kissing the captain’s ass!
Lola grinned at the concierge, feeling grand and giddy. And very high-maintenance!
“Right you are! I’ll take all three!” she crowed. “Now tell me which gown will wow Captain Scandalous tonight. And I’m betting you have just the right little trinkets to wear with it.”
“Indeed, I do, my dear,” he purred, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “For this evening, I suggest the deep green sheath. I’ll have the others sent to your suite.”
Was this really happening? Lola quickly changed into the elegant dress that made her eyes look large and mysterious and…provocative. Lord, she’d never felt provocative in her life—not this way! The gown fit like a glove that was custom cut for her body. In the back of her mind, her mother was telling her to ask for the proper underthings—a slip, at least—to wear beneath this sleeveless creation that dipped low to show the tops of her unfettered breasts. It also had an open side seam that revealed most of her thigh.
But of course, underwear didn’t exist that would do this dress justice! Why would she want a bra line? Or a slip that would flutter through that daring slit on the side?
And isn’t YOUR slit feeling sleazy and free? Without even a thong to cover it!
Lola chuckled, hearing sex and cigarettes in her inner voice. A killer combination, when the captain took her into his arms to dance tonight!
When she emerged from the changing room, Kingsley awaited her with the perfect accessories.
“Your magic slippers,” he said, handing her a pair that were little more than clear straps with heels like icicles. “Fuck-me shoes at their finest, don’t you agree?”
Lola’s jaw dropped. Had this proper Brit really said that?
Yet
the grin twitching at his lips made her giggle. And when Kingsley deftly fastened a strand of black pearls around her neck, she didn’t have to ask if they were real. Not to mention terribly pricey.
“How can I ever repay—”
“Ah-ah!” He shushed her with a gentle finger, his face alight with sensual pleasure. “Wear it all and be wonderful, dear Lola. Wear it, and believe.”
She returned his gaze, feeling like the princess in a fairy tale—thinking miracles just might happen, and she could indeed win some private time with Captain Scandalous. Maybe upstairs in that Aphrodisia Suite.
Was that why he’d put her there in the first place?
The phone rang and Kingsley went behind the counter to answer it. As Lola turned in front of the mirror, it struck her as odd that the concierge on a ship this size would be managing such a boutique. Surely he’d have full-time duties dealing with passengers, since a well-versed saleslady could’ve assisted her with these gowns.
Or perhaps Clive Kingsley had taken her on as his personal mission. An intriguing thought, as she sneaked a peek at his face in her mirror. Brits had always fascinated her with their wry humor and impeccable etiquette and—
He held her gaze in the glass with sexy blue eyes that then wandered along her profile.
Lola melted. He did have intentions, and they went beyond seeing that Skorpio Skandalis treated her like a queen rather than a captive! Perhaps Clive intended to challenge the captain for the pleasure of her company!
“I see, sir…yes, of course, captain. I’m sure she’ll understand,” he spoke stiffly into the phone.
But she bloody well won’t like it, was what he didn’t say.
Lola frosted over. “I suppose he’s come up with some excuse—”
“Actually, our captain has been called away to an emergency. So he sends his regrets—and me,” came a voice from the doorway.
In strolled Aric, looking young and wonderful in a close-cut tux of navy blue with a cravat and cummerbund of bright lime and silver stripes. On anyone else such a combination would look outrageous, yet Lola couldn’t help gaping at him. His hair hung in loose, gleaming curls that made her fingers itch to get lost in them.
He offered her an elbow. “I guess you’re stuck with me, Priestess. Shall we dance?”
8
All right, so it really wasn’t such a sacrifice, walking into the grand ballroom with the stud muffin who’d given her this miracle make-over. Aric eased her out of the doorway to pause for a moment—either so he could read the room, or to give her a chance to make a grand entrance. Lola wasn’t pleased that Skandalis had stood her up, but she wasn’t surprised, either. Of course he’d get called away, just when she’d turned from a caterpillar into a butterfly! Wasn’t that how her luck was running on this trip?
But here in this ballroom aglow with crystal chandeliers and champagne punch, where more than a hundred gloriously dressed guests swayed to the beat of a small orchestra, Lola decided to shine on. In the past hour she’d gone from feeling utterly exhausted and peeved to feeling like the High Exalted Ruler of the Universe. Way beyond a mere Priestess.
Not a sensation to be wasted. No matter whom she’d planned to be dancing with.
So as Aric led her to the parquet dance floor, she didn’t balk at being shown off. Didn’t protest when he extended his arm like a dancer in a competition, gripping only her fingertips as he held her in his dramatic gaze. And then they walked—no, they were gliding—to the center of the floor. On cue, the trumpets announced them with a fanfare, and the orchestra seguéd into the high style of a Viennese waltz.
It was no time to tell him she was a little rusty; that she’d forgotten all but the ONE-two-three of the beat she’d learned in a college ballroom dance class.
Not a problem, his silvery eyes said, and he cut the theatrics to lead her in a very basic waltz pattern. Soon they were surrounded by other couples, some who’d spent many hours on the dance floor, and Lola relaxed. Simply enjoyed feeling like she was in one of those scenes from a grand old movie, where the entire roomful of dancers turned and dipped gracefully.
“Thank you for this, Aric.”
He blinked. Either thinking of something else, or totally immersed in Strauss.
“For this wonderful evening,” she explained. “For the way you made my hair and face look like some swanky model’s, and the way you’ve escorted me here at the last minute, and—”
“Not a problem.”
Lola stifled her sigh. Any fantasy this Cabana Boy costarred in would have its limitations, right?
But it’s still a pretty wonderful feeling, isn’t it? To be dancing like I know what I’m doing—like I deserve to be the belle of the ball just this once?
Her lithe partner stepped back to raise her arm, leading her into a showy spin. With a grin she obliged him—until the squeeze of his hand at the top of the turn made her grimace. Her diamond had turned, and was now being driven into the flesh between her fingers.
Aric’s pouty lips parted in confusion. “Did I step on—”
“No, this thing’s rubbing me the wrong way!”
Stepping out of the other dancers’ path, Lola yanked the ring from her finger and stuffed it into his tux pocket, behind his lime-striped kerchief.
“Fletch will not ruin the rest of this day!” Lola whispered with a triumphant grin. Her finger looked naked without the rock she’d sported these past several weeks, yet the sense of freedom she now felt made her grin giddily at Cabana Boy.
“Dance on, sir! I think I’m getting the hang of this Priestess thing!”
With a sly smile her warden complied, easing them gracefully into the flow of the waltz. He really was a treat, all tricked out and squiring her around this way—not that she’d swell his head any more by telling him so. It was enough to float from one downbeat to the next with his hand on her back, telling herself he’d left duty behind to join her in this grand fantasy. Wondering if Aric had any inclination to take it farther….
It was then Lola spotted him: a figure in dazzling dress whites that set off his olive face and raven hair. He was whirling and gliding with an innate grace no mere Arthur Murray graduate could attain, because his supreme confidence carried him across the floor with a silver-haired lady who dripped in diamonds. Tall and slender, she, too, wore a sophisticated white—
Sophisticated, maybe, but she looks like a cigarette with tits.
Lola nearly choked when Captain Skandalis caught her eye. Winked at her, no less!
“By God, if he thinks he can—”
Aric twirled her expertly under his raised arm, so she had to shut up and concentrate. Good for him, sensing she was about to make an ugly scene.
But damned if, the next time she spotted him, Skorpio Skandalis wasn’t dancing with a different partner! This gal’s hair was bottle-black and her strapless, red sequined gown gaped open above wrinkly boobs that didn’t do it justice.
He must’ve felt her temper flaring, because this time Aric guided her to the edge of the dance floor and then twirled her into the crook of his arm. So she couldn’t run up and claw out the captain’s laughing eyes, obviously.
“It’s Skorpio’s obligation,” her escort spoke soothingly into her ear. Still holding her in that clinch, he lifted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. “Those ladies have paid extra for the privilege of the captain’s company tonight. Most of them are longtime friends. Rich widows who cruise just for something to do.”
“Which he knew about before he stood me up, right?”
Lola tossed back half her champagne, nearly choking on its intense fizz. She didn’t ask if any of those bejeweled beauties were once the captain’s love slaves. Didn’t such a harem speak for itself—and for Skorpio’s priorities?
And here he came now, sauntering up to the dessert buffet—but of course taking time to squeeze and kiss the ladies who fawned over him along the way. Served him right to have three different colors of lip prints on his cheek.
“This is quite the emergency you’re tending to!” she rasped.
Captain Scandalous chuckled seductively. “I got called to a fire, my dear. You see how it is with me? So many flames—so little time to fan them all!”
And before she could reply, the arrogant Greek quaffed his bubbly, grinned devilishly—and strode to the end of the table with his arms open wide, to where the next flame was wagging her finger at him.
“Fire, my ass!” she muttered at his retreating backside. “Those old broads could start a weenie roast with their hot flashes! And I hope yours gets torched!”
Aric let out a loud laugh, but squelched it when some of the people around him turned to stare. “I can see now why the captain requested a companion for you, Miss Wright. He really wanted a bodyguard for himself.”
“Yeah, well, if he’d behave like a gentleman—follow through on his promise—I’d mind my manners, too.”
Lola realized then that her fist was planted in her hip and she was tapping her foot: Skandalis had taken his new partner in a clinch and was cheek-to-cheek in a tango position so close they were making love through their clothes. He was obviously going to bait her all evening; had no intention of dancing the night—or even part of a song—away with her, by the looks of the glittering, silver-haired entourage that cheered him on from the punch fountain.
She snagged another glass of champagne and downed half of it in a gulp. It was getting easier to do that.
“I appreciate your being such an understanding escort, Aric,” she said. Her voice was getting as slurred as her thoughts, but what did that matter? “I’m gonna sit the rest of them out. I don’t exactly feel like dancing anymore.”
“But Miss Wright, you’re the—”
“And knock it off with the ‘Miss Wright’ thing, OK?” she muttered. “Bad enough that Captain Scandalous is making me feel like such a wall flower, without feeling old enough to be your mother, as well.”
All Night Long Page 6
