All Night Long

by Melissa MacNeal

  Her feet couldn’t hold still, and she couldn’t help grinning insanely as her entire body took up the catchy beat. The kid put on quite a show for her, raising his shiny black instrument and pushing—pushing—pushing the tempo of a Dixieland jazz dance that brought everyone to their feet.

  The clapping got louder, and it egged him on. Aric would’ve been flashing her a grin from beneath his tousled curls, had he not had his mouth full—

  And Lola suddenly wanted to be his instrument. The way he was tonguing that thing, gripping it lightly as his fingers danced up and down the silver keys and his hips thrust forward like he was making love, God she wanted to be fifteen years younger!

  No you don’t. Now’s your chance.

  She blinked. Ever since he kissed her in Chez Phillipe, she’d felt a little sidetracked from her escape plan. But here where the lights were so low and everyone around her was up and dancing—and Aric was caught up in his own little world of passion—why, she wouldn’t even be missed.

  Lola looked around for the restroom. A natural thing to do, after a big meal where they’d downed two bottles of bubbly, and nearly three hours had passed since she left her room. He wouldn’t think anything of it, until she’d been gone awhile.

  She stood up, her limbs aquiver as she gripped her purse.

  But she’d waited too long. The jazz dance ended on a trill like the mating call of an exotic jungle bird, and when the wild applause died down, she got nailed.

  “This next one’s for Lola, my lady of the evening,” Aric crooned into the mike. “I have to thank her for setting aside her objections to young turks, and tell her how glad I am that she came into my life.”

  Eyes searched the smoky darkness and found her gripping the table’s edge, caught between going and…coming. Her smile wavered and she sat back down in a hurry. She couldn’t very well leave when he’d dedicated this next song to her! So she leaned back, anticipating another virtuoso performance on his clarinet.

  But no, Cabana Boy sang to her! That old Stevie Wonder classic, “You are the Sunshine of My Life,” but with his own little dips and twists.

  Damned if she didn’t have to dab the corner of her eye. He was looking at right at her, crooning about how she was the apple of his eye, and that forever she’d stay in his heart. It was like having her very own James Taylor—with Rod Stewart putting the edge on his top notes.

  “I had no idea,” she rasped when he came back after the song, between fans who clapped him on the shoulders. “You never told me—”

  “So now you know my deepest, darkest secret,” he quipped, slipping into the chair next to hers.

  A green-wigged barmaid brought him a cocktail—not to mention an up-close-and-personal view of the boobs bouncing beneath her white tank top. The serpentine around Aric’s neck shimmied as he drank greedily.

  Was it her imagination, or did the crystal at his Adam’s apple wink like a little signal light?

  The crowd was still clapping, coaxing him back up for another number, but Cabana Boy lifted her hand to his lips for a damp kiss that made her tingle all over.

  “Go on up and play some more,” she urged. Partly because she really did need to pee…

  “I’ve been enough of a show-off here for one night.”

  “But they love you!” she insisted. “Play some more, if you—”

  “I’ve got places to be and trinkets to see—with you, Lola. And besides,” he added with raised eyebrows, “the more we keep moving, the more likely we’ll stay under the radar. I play with these guys several times a week, so I’m pretty visible here.”

  Lola stiffened, glancing around to see if Skorpio or any of the security staff were here keeping track of them. He rose to go, so she took his hand and followed him out. It wasn’t every day she got to bask in the adoration of her escort’s fans—even if it waylaid her getaway for awhile.

  Just outside the door, where there was a secluded little alcove, Cabana Boy pressed her to the wall and kissed her tenderly. He tasted like liquor instead of cigarettes now, but Lola kissed him back anyway. When else was she going to be the object of such attention?

  “Thanks for being a good sport about that little musical interlude.”

  “And why wouldn’t I be? It was so cool to watch you play!” she gushed, gazing up into his smooth young face. “And it’s not like I get sung to every day, you know! And I—

  “Thank you for that,” she finished softly. “It made me feel really special.”

  His wistful smile made her ashamed for even thinking of ducking out on him. He smiled and clasped her hand again as they strolled toward midship where the shops were. If she pretended hard enough, she could believe Aric Petrocelli was at her side because he wanted to be.

  But thoughts like that held her captive just like Captain Scandalous was doing, right?

  “So how do you land a job like this, Aric?” she went on in a more purposeful voice. “I mean, my work looks downright boring and predictable compared to yours—and I certainly don’t have clients clapping and cheering when they pay my fee. It must be like being in the movies.”

  He snorted, glancing at the passengers thronging the hallway up ahead. “Like with most things, it’s who you know—or who you are—that gets your foot in the door.”

  “And which one worked for you?”

  “Both.” He waggled a playful eyebrow at her. “But then, it doesn’t hurt to be a natural born gigolo, either. It’s not like I can get many steady jobs playing the clarinet these days, right?”

  Lola knew a dodge when she heard one. Just like she saw the logo for the ladies room up ahead as her chance to carry out her plan.

  “See you in a minute,” she announced, dropping his hand to beeline to the door.

  Surely he wouldn’t follow her inside! And even though she knew damn well Cabana Boy would be waiting when she came out, she could at least take a few minutes to think about how to give him the slip. A girl made better plans when her bladder wasn’t full.

  Like the restrooms of a fine hotel, this one was pretty swanky—a poshly decorated powder room with overstuffed chairs, and then the toilet area with its shiny gold faucets and fixtures. The louvered stall doors went all the way to the floor and had doorknobs instead of metal slides. All the doors stood ajar, so she was alone—except for the uniformed lady who was wiping the counter beneath the powder room mirrors.

  The attendant glanced up and Lola froze.

  That face in the mirror, smiling so politely, belonged to Odette.

  16

  Lola smiled and wavered only for a moment. She would not be waylaid by a bathroom attendant! Even if it was Odette, who was now smiling pointedly at her, maintaining nerve-wracking eye contact.

  “Good evening,” Lola rasped, skittering to the nearest louvered cubicle.

  “Good evening, miss,” followed her in.

  And as she locked the door, Lola wondered what the hell she was going to do now. She’d be trapped in here all night, if Odette waited her out!

  Lola sat down on the gleaming white seat. The bowl was so fresh, little soap bubbles still rode the surface of the water.

  Now why on earth would Odette—the Captain’s own personal masseuse—be cleaning toilets at ten o’clock at night?

  Why would any of the housekeeping staff be cleaning during the ship’s busiest hours?

  So it had to be Odette, who somehow knew Lola was coming in here. She’d heard that Skorpio’s captive had evaded his command performances for the past several hours, so she’d come looking!

  But how did she know I’d be in this one?

  No, the real question was, how would she get out? And why had she ever thought she could slip out of Improvisations to get away from Aric? Skorpio’s employees were no doubt being paid very well to keep track of her, ever since she agreed to be his love slave.

  Lola reached for that pack of Camels in her purse. Reminded herself she’d be in big trouble if she lit up in here, and just held the suede case in her ha
nd to settle her nerves.

  She sighed and sat there long after she’d relieved herself. Here in this louvered, locked stall, she could get some real thinking done without anyone peering at her from under the door.

  If she was going to really get away from Aric, she’d have to make a more concrete, airtight plan. She’d have to have her ducks in a row and the means to get around—especially if she slipped off the ship tomorrow, when they docked in Grenada.

  And wouldn’t that be cool? To get away from the ship—

  You’ll need cash money. Your SeaKey won’t buy one frickin’ thing on shore.

  But it’ll still get you into your original room on the Promenade Deck, won’t it?

  Now there was a thought! Since she’d been moved to the Aphrodisia Suite after they’d set sail, it was quite possible no one else had been shifted into that room…which might make a good hideout, for awhile.

  But she’d seen how many cameras and monitors the security crew had in operation. She’d be so easy to spot in every public area on the ship—

  Unless you’re wearing a disguise. Or a costume.

  Lola thought back to those girls in the tank tops and colored wigs, and to Odette in her French maid’s uniform—who, now that she’d settled down, and thought about it—may or may not be Odette.

  She’d spoken politely. She’d shown no particular sign of recognition, or any indication of being on the prowl. With all the different nationalities on the ship’s staff—so many young women with olive complexions and their dark hair pulled neatly back—there might be dozens who resembled Odette at a passing glance.

  Lola thought hard, which was getting more difficult as the hours went by. Her champagne buzz was going flat now, replaced by the need for some real sleep.

  And how likely was that? Cabana Boy might not consider snuggling in bed a legitimate way to fly under the radar, if he had a more exciting type of flight in mind.

  If she could just figure out how to get ahold of—

  Rap-rap-rap. “Miss, are you all right? Your young man, he is asking about you. About why it is you are taking so long.”

  Lola narrowed her eyes, wishing she could see through the door. “I’m fine thanks,” she insisted. “Tell him I’ll just be another minute.”

  “I’m here to help you if you need me.”

  Now that sounded like an Odette trick! What bona fide bathroom attendant would offer to help her that way?

  Maybe someone who saw the startled look on my face when I came in her. Someone who has no clue I’m hiding out.

  Lola held her breath to listen. Was the maid still outside her stall?

  Was it Odette, or just an attractive look-alike?

  Does it really matter? You can’t spend the rest of the night in here!

  Lola stood to smooth her sun dress. She turned to push the flush button, and then waited for the forceful whoosh to die away before turning the doorknob.

  If Odette was waiting for her, she’d just have to take whatever that vengeful woman dished out.

  When she stepped out of the stall, however, she was alone. All that lingered as evidence of her frightening encounter was the cloying scent of the attendant’s disinfectant, masked by floral air freshener.

  Lola glanced quickly around the other stalls and in the mirror above the sinks, but saw no one. She washed her hands and scurried out the doorless archway, back into the corridor where the night owls were getting really geared up. Most folks had put on clothes now, but a few die-hards were still partying naked.

  “Trouble?” Cabana Boy quizzed her. He was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

  Lola gazed up at him, wondering if he already knew who she’d met up with. After all, the cleaning lady had to come out this way, right past him. And since he, too, was connected to Captain Scandalous, it could well be he was still in touch—was making covert contact while she did things like…shower and use the ladies’ room, without him.

  And what if that wasn’t Odette? What if her mind was playing tricks on her?

  Then you’re in a world of hurt, baby. You’ll need to pull your act together in a hurry if you think you’ll get away from this wily crew.

  “Just a little case of mistaken identity,” she murmured, testing the waters. “I thought for sure that was Odette cleaning the can, but that makes no sense at all. Odette wouldn’t be caught dead swishing a toilet unless Skorpio was going to bend her over it to take her from behind.”

  Aric laughed. “Appearances can be deceiving,” he quipped, slipping his hand into her bent elbow.

  See there? You really do need a disguise.

  So after Aric bought her a box of those truffles with the messages, she latched onto two airy, elegant scarves, a pair of dark sunglasses, and a lime green canvas hat with a flowery band tied above its broad, dipping brim. What a deal, in a shop where almost everything was ten dollars!

  “That’s all you want?” her escort quizzed. “We’re charging this to the captain’s account, you know.”

  Lola smiled—but then wondered if these high-tech computers would track her transactions, so the captain could keep track of her according to the purchases she made. A paranoid thought, but a possibility.

  “Let’s keep shopping,” she suggested when she saw the sign for the ship’s high-end jewelry shop. “Gee, if Skorpio’s buying, maybe I need a new diamond. A real one this time.”

  Aric let out a little laugh, but they entered the shop anyway—a place where the display case spotlights made the fine gold and precious gemstones sparkle enticingly. She instinctively knew that the young man behind the counter was Aric’s friend, Joel—a nice-looking guy of maybe thirty who was picking a variety of rings out of his main display cabinet for a man who seemed intent on something really showy.

  “Let me see that one—the diamond with the tanzanite clusters,” he was saying. He was balding from the forehead back and probably thirty pounds overweight, with the air of a computer geek or a scholarly type who didn’t see the sun much.

  “See, I met this really foxy lady at the speed dating this afternoon—”

  Naked, Lola mused, trying not to imagine how this marshmallow of a man must’ve looked to the fox he was talking about.

  “—and we hit it off immediately! I—I could see she had a lot of guys hanging at her table, probably fixating on her uh, fine attributes. But she’s with me now!” he rhapsodized. “It’s like we’ve known each other for years! So if I impress her with a ring—”

  “This one should make a definite impression,” Joel agreed, fighting a smile. “Total carat weight of three point five for that diamond, plus the six tanzanites of a quarter carat apiece.”

  “Holy cow, this is gonna cost me—but dammit, life’s too short not to take risks!” the guy replied. He was all aquiver, drumming the edge of the glass case with the pudgy fingers of both hands.

  “If I may see your SeaKey, the ring’s yours,” Joel said smoothly. “And if for any reason your lady doesn’t like this one, or needs it resized—”

  “My SeaKey! Gretchen has my SeaKey because she—well, she’s up in my room, getting ready to surprise me—”

  Lola groaned inwardly. Caught the same dubious expression flickering across Cabana Boy’s brow.

  “—so I’ll have to give you cash,” the guy said, reaching for his back pocket. “That’s better anyway, because Gretchen won’t know what I paid for it.”

  “Sorry, sir. The ship’s shops only accept your SeaKey. We’re not set up to handle cash.”

  Marshmallow Man got that deer-in-the-headlights look. “Then I’ll have to figure out a way to finesse it back—without her guessing that I’m buying her a surprise!”

  “I’ll keep the ring right here for you, sir.” Joel called after him as he hurried out the door.

  And Lola was hot on his heels.

  “Sir! Sir, I might have an answer to your predicament!” she called after him. “If it’s cash you’ve got—and a really flashy rock you wa
nt—let’s talk!”

  He turned, eyeing her and Aric warily. Pushing a bad comb-over back into place with jittery fingers. “How’d you know—”

  “We were standing right behind you,” she said, looking into his watery gray eyes, “and I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about wanting a really nice ring for Gretchen.”

  Lola flashed her left hand—and her finest smile.

  “Now, I’m going to be straight with you, because Joel back there knows this is a high-dollar chunk of CZ that passes for a diamond to the average, untrained eye,” she said in a confidential tone. “But I’m thinking maybe it’s a better solution to your gift idea, because if Gretchen turns out to be as wonderful as you’re hoping, you can always replace this with a genuine stone when you get married. And if it doesn’t work out, well—you didn’t blow so much of a wad on somebody who might just, uh—present herself well during speed dating.”

  Naked.

  He blinked, and glanced toward Cabana Boy. “Let me take a look at this,” he said cautiously. “You might have a point about—”

  “Frankly, sir, it’s been my experience that giving someone else access to your account isn’t such a hot idea,” she went on ruefully. “That’s exactly why this ring’s for sale. If Gretchen’s not really up in your room—or if she made a few detours through the shops first—you might be amazed at how quickly your tab can tote up.”

  “Naw, she’s not the type to—”

  “Then you could go upstairs right now and slip this baby on her finger. Take up where your speed date left off.”

  “How much do you want?” he asked in a breathy voice. His forehead beaded with sweat, but he was fishing out his wallet.

  “Well, the gold is eighteen carat, so I’d have to have at least—”

  “I’ve got eleven c-notes in my stash—”

  “—nine hundred bucks.”

  “Sold!”