Notorious in Nice

by Jianne Carlo

  From the din of voices coming from above, dinner would be under the moon and stars. Sure enough, two adjacent tables bordering the ship’s stern showcased knives, forks, and pale porcelain. A cloudless sky punctuated by slivers of winking stars and an eternal midnight Mediterranean formed the backdrop for lemon-edged china, glistening sterling cutlery, and sparkling crystal filled with a rich burgundy wine.

  His gaze gravitated to Su-Lin seated at the farthest table, and Austen at her side. Terry choked back a vicious curse when he realized only one seat stood empty. Wonderful. Three hours seated between Emma Lockheed and his sodding father, with Su-Lin a table away. Life couldn’t get worse.

  He hated being proved wrong.

  “Punctual as always, Terrence. We’ve been waiting for over ten minutes for your vaunted presence.”

  At least Father kept his voice low.

  Gritting his teeth, Terry sat, whipped a white napkin onto his lap, and said, “Sorry I’m late. Dig in. Don’t wait for me. Looks great. ”

  “Tight ship you run, Terrence. Not even a toast to welcome all aboard? Perhaps, as I hold the reins for the next few weeks, I should do the honors.”

  Another muttered aside, but it did the trick, Terry seethed. He knew that tone of voice. It heralded a scathing set-down. “You should know Geoff and I will sue your backside if anything untoward happens on your watch.”

  “And you should know Carol-Ann’s filed for divorce.”

  He couldn’t begin to think of a reply to that bald statement.

  “I don’t give a fricking damn. It’s not as if the two of you ever had a real marriage.”

  “I haven’t a clue as to why your brother has decided to forgive you.”

  “The truth wins out. What do you want from me, Father?”

  “Persuade your brother to do his duty.”

  “What makes you think Thomas would listen to me? After all these years?”

  “He’s throwing away three hundred years of heritage.”

  “Because he won’t marry and sire a son?”

  “That and because he won’t refute the rumors my wife is spreading.”

  Terry’s glance flicked to Thomas. “What rumors?”

  “You know exactly what I’m referring to.”

  “Do I? Why don’t you have this conversation with Thomas?”

  “I’ve tried.” His father’s lip curled at one corner. “Neither he nor you ever faced up to your actions. We’re all going to have to pay the price now.”

  “You won’t even consider that Carol-Ann’s lying?”

  “We both know she’s telling the truth on all counts. What I’m concerned about is proof. Does she have any?”

  “Of what Father? My perversions, yours, or Thom’s?”

  The Earl of Arran snorted, flicked his napkin, and scrunched it into a ball to the left of his plate, an unheard-of breach of earl etiquette. Shoving his chair back, he inclined his head. “Good evening.”

  Terry’s gaze followed the rigid line of his father’s retreating back. Nigel Thomas Jefferson Patrick Gore never backed down, never walked away from a fight. He hadn’t assumed his bitch of a wife had proof, but had actually asked if she did. What had happened to his father’s dogmatic certainty?

  He poured another a glass of red wine and took a deep swallow, swirling the liquor in his mouth and tasting the woodsy oak cask, which had housed the fine cabernet. Emma Lockheed’s throaty voice bristled into his somber thoughts.

  “Jennifer had been living in a run-down house. Half the lights didn’t work. No modern appliances, not even a television. The girl had never even been on a plane.” Su-Lin’s aunt flicked a finger displaying a three-carat square diamond. “She doesn’t even know how to use a cell phone, said she didn’t need one.”

  Curbing the temptation to prove her wrong and take her down a peg, Terry loaded his fork with cubed portions of the food on his plate.

  “What happened to her parents?” Thomas asked.

  “Her father died when Jennifer was nine or ten.”

  “And her mother?”

  Fine lines of exhaustion bracketed Thomas’s mouth, and his complexion appeared sallow in the soft, flickering candlelight. Terry glanced at his twin’s plate; he’d taken maybe three or four bites of the orange-glazed Cornish hen and pushed wild rice, broccoli, and carrots around the porcelain dish.

  “She died a couple of months ago. That’s when we found out about Jennifer. Her mother’s lawyer contacted us.”

  Even using both hands to guide his tumbler to his mouth, his twin couldn’t hide the glass’s shaky ascent. Terry stifled a wince.

  “Jimmy and I are enjoying spoiling Jennifer, but as you can see, she has a lot to learn.”

  Before Terry could utter a word, his twin jumped to Su-Lin’s defense.

  “Her table manners are perfect,” Thomas said. “She’s lovely, poised, and charming. I fail to see what she needs to learn.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? The girl has no fashion sense, she hasn’t a clue how to relate to the male gender, and her conversation is sorely lacking.”

  Listening to the discussion between Emma Lockheed and his twin, Terry gained insight into the woman destined to be his new lover. He shot a glance at Su-Lin and his trapezius muscle knotted. The opposite table’s composition had altered, and not for the better.

  When had Harrison changed seats? Lips compressed, he scowled when Harrison twirled a lock of Su-Lin’s inky hair around a forefinger.

  She laid one almond hand on Harry’s bare forearm and laughed. A saucy little smile Terry thought she reserved for him, and only him. Catching his eye, she waved, verdant eyes twinkling and sparkling, and she spun around to face Harry fully.

  They were flirting.

  Jealousy battled sheer rage, his nails bit into dry palms, Terry’s lips curled into a sneer, and he stood, intent on violence.

  At the same exact instant, Austen announced, “Ladies, gentlemen, dessert is served below deck in the entertainment area. I’ll lead the way.”

  The bosun weaved as he stood and braced on the deck rail after stumbling into Su-Lin’s chair. Frick, how much had Austen consumed? Prone to recklessness at the best of times, Austen’d been known to play Russian roulette when skunk drunk, and he seemed intent on attaining that stage sooner rather than later.

  “Terry, I’ll walk with you, shall I?”

  Every instinct went on alert, and every neck hair rose, trapping a shiver down his spine. He recognized a mother-hen tone when he heard one. “Of course, I’ll be happy to escort you there, Emma.”

  “My niece has led a very sheltered life.”

  The entry-level hook; he stifled a groan. The woman had one of those smiley bland faces, but underneath that deceptive exterior a barracuda lurked, biding her time.

  “I overheard your conversation with my twin,” he countered.

  “Jennifer’s never dated, and she’s very fragile mentally. Her mother suffered a number of nervous breakdowns, and Jennifer seems to have inherited Annika Taylor’s severe mood swings. And this conviction she qualified for the US gymnastic team,” Emma Lockheed said, and she shook her head. “It wouldn’t take much to shatter her grip on reality.”

  No one bullied Terrence O’Connor, and his civilized veneer had thinned tonight to spring-ice-cracking point. “Su-Lin’s over twenty-one, Emma. She’s an adult woman capable of making her own decisions.”

  “Jennifer,” Emma snapped, emphasizing the English name, “is fragile and too innocent for her own good. James and I would be very remiss if we didn’t guard her carefully. Quite frankly, you don’t precisely have a pristine reputation where innocent girls are concerned. And I did hear rumors while we were traveling about a woman passenger on your yacht falling overboard and drowning.”

  Fricking hell. He knuckled his right temple, which thudded with each heavy footstep, and said through gritted teeth, “That incident was ruled an accident. I was cleared of all charges.”

  “Harrumph!” Emma Lockheed sniffed
. “It’s entirely scandalous for you to put her in the room next to yours. I insist you move Jennifer to a cabin closer to ours.”

  “The cabin Su-Lin is in currently is the second largest on the Glory and the most opulent. The only other empty cabin was designed with children in mind. There are two single beds that can be converted into a bunk bed. It’s not suitable for your niece.”

  From the stiff line of Emma’s lips, his answer didn’t make her day. Tough titties; if she expected him to give up three weeks of paradise without a battle, she’d soon learn different.

  Neither Harrison nor Su-Lin had made it to the entertainment area, and they’d left first. Terry seethed for the ten minutes it took to make his excuses and hustle down to his cabin. Impatient, and suspicions on DEFCON alert, he ate up the distance to the connecting door and edged it open.

  Empty.

  He found Su-Lin on the top deck with Thomas and Harry.

  Cross-legged, five red-diamond-patterned playing cards in one hand, she looked alive, vivacious, bursting with vitality. He aged decades while looking at her. Emma was right on all counts; he didn’t deserve such champagne innocence.

  “Terrence,” she said. “Harry and Thomas are teaching me Texas Hold ’Em. I used to hear everyone talking about it in high school. Now I understand why everyone was obsessed with it. It’s fun.”

  Guilt torpedoed all his earlier plans, and he refused to meet her gaze. “Harry, you sober enough to take Su-Lin to her cabin?”

  When the first mate nodded, he continued, “First Engineer’s on watch tonight. Thomas, can you spare me an hour?”

  Hope blazed in Thomas’s eyes, the exact steel shade of his own, and he slowly rose to his feet.

  Chapter Five

  “Absolutely. I’ll walk with you.” Thomas Jefferson Patrick Gore, heir to the Earl of Arran, spoke the words in a soft baritone. Yet their significance hung suspended in the cooling night breeze, hovering like an anchor about to plunge to port in ambiguous harbor.

  Su-Lin noticed the stifled wince as Thomas rose, the way his complexion paled, and the brief seconds he paused before taking the first deliberate step forward. Terry adjusted his pace to match Thomas’s and they walked off the deck together.

  Twins. She wondered if Terrence knew of Thomas’s illness, if they sensed each other’s thoughts or needed words to communicate.

  “Come back to me,” Harry said. “You like him, sugar?”

  “They’re both nice, and so are you. Thomas seems gentler, less angry.”

  “But Terry is the one you want.”

  She shifted to the right on the bench to make room for him.

  Harry hooked a chair with one booted foot and shuffled it so they could both prop their feet on its seat. Su-Lin didn’t object when he settled his arm around her shoulders, as the temperature had dropped and she needed the added warmth.

  “Do you believe in fate?”

  “Nah, I believe in making your own fate.”

  “What about your dad’s will? How can you forge your fate with those conditions hanging over your head?” she asked.

  Catching a faint whiff of lemon and leather, she glanced at his pointed cowboy boots, the tan hide darker on the outside. Su-Lin dipped her chin, and sure enough, the scent grew stronger. Working shoes, she decided, noticing a black strip held a tarnished silver buckle across the front, and the image of him on a horse wearing rawhide and a Stetson caused her lips to curl.

  “You can buy anything in this age, including a temporary virgin who’ll marry me for a predetermined period.”

  Su-Lin shook her head.

  “Aw, sugar, it’s not such a bad deal. A win-win situation.” He gave her a one-sided grin and a thumbs-up. “Money and sex.”

  “It doesn’t look that way to me. It seems like bad karma. The Tao Te Ching, the book of life, teaches that every act is both good and evil, part of the natural balance of the universe. Where is the good in your plan?”

  “Sugar, you’re talking to a Texan. We don’t do that harmony stuff.”

  One by one the bright lights of the upper deck winked off, and the stars in the midnight sky sparkled and twinkled brighter, as if someone had turned the dimmer switch off. The absence of the electrical background buzzing amplified the soft swishing of the Mediterranean lapping at the Glory’s hull.

  “Okay, look at it from a different perspective. You hate your stepmother and you’ll do anything to prevent her from getting your money. Is that right?”

  “Bull’s-eye. So what’s your advice? Forgive and forget? Let that bitch get Daddy’s money?”

  “No.” She shook her head and thought, for someone so sophisticated, he seemed naive. A gentle gust washed away the last hint of their dinner, and the tang of brine mingled with the faint whiff of Harrison’s Armani aftershave.

  “Spit it out, Su-Lin, I’m listening.”

  “You have so much hate, so much that is negative, and it’s not balanced by love anywhere in your life. Who loves you, Harry? Who do you love?”

  The moon dipped behind a cloud, and she couldn’t read his expression.

  “You know how to crack a man raw,” he drawled. “I think Jack Daniels and I are going to keep each other company tonight, sugar. I’m guessing there’s no way you’ll be agreeing to my proposal.”

  “Uh-uh. Marriage is too important to treat flippantly,” she said, shaking her head. “But I’ll help you find someone you’d like.” She chewed on her lower lip and then uttered her request. “I wonder, Harrison -- would you kiss me?” So many expressions crossed his face within the space of those few words that Su-Lin couldn’t keep track of them.

  “Sugar, you have no idea what my heart’s doing right now, or my son-of-a-gun fortunate prick.” That one-sided grin appeared again, and it blossomed into a Red Riding Hood’s wolf’s smile as desire darkened his eyes to molasses. “First, tell me why.”

  “I like you. You’re very nice and kind, but my heart doesn’t race at the sight of you,” she replied. “You’re very handsome, and the way you say sugar gives me the shivers, but you don’t make me all tingly.”

  “You mean the way Terry makes you feel?” He outlined the corner of her mouth with a forefinger.

  “Yes. Do kisses all taste the same?” Su-Lin puzzled through her reactions aloud. “Is it the kissing or the person? What do you think?”

  “I think you’re more dangerous than any of us realizes. But I’m not about to pass up the chance to taste you. Here,” he said, his voice gruff and enticing, and he settled her sideways across his thighs and scooted against the deck rail. “Comfy?”

  “I know you won’t hurt me.”

  Su-Lin closed her eyes at the first brush of his lips against hers, a soft, gentle skirmish, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. Harry’s mouth parted and he sipped at her, and the tenderness of his touch stirred a bittersweet ache in her chest. He deepened the kiss, caressing her tongue with long, slow strokes, and she sighed.

  Easing their lips apart, he leaned against her forehead and asked, his hot breath smelling of chocolate and wine, “How was that, sugar?”

  “Nice,” Su-Lin replied. She touched their lips together. “Not like Terrence at all.”

  “Bloody fricking hell and damnation,” Terrence roared.

  Su-Lin shot to her feet, and an inferno flamed across her cheeks, her arms, her neck, making her a touch light-headed.

  “I like your kisses better,” she blurted.

  “As my sodding traitor of a friend would say, well, whoopee do.” The feral quality of each carefully enunciated word had Su-Lin flinching. She hugged her arms.

  Standing in front of Terry, she met his gaze and stumbled back a step at the fury and the contempt blazing from thundercloud irises.

  “You’re angry,” she muttered. “But why? You have had many women. You said so yourself. It was an experiment, that’s all.”

  “Harry, get out of here.”

  She couldn’t hear but for the pounding in her eardrums and
the pulsing of the blood at her temples. Su-Lin knew from the flare of his nostrils, the bulging veins on his crossed forearms, and his wide-legged stance, Terrence’s control balanced on the point of a spinning top about to collapse.

  “I think maybe we should all sit down,” she countered, and her glance flicked behind him to where Thomas stood, shaking his head.

  “Sodding get out of here, Harrison. And you, you’re no fricking innocent, Su-Lin Taylor. I turn my back for a couple of hours and he’s deep throating you? And I’ve been so fricking careful to take it easy with you. Gloves are off, little aphrodisiac.”

  With those words, his shoulder contacted with her midriff, and he had her in a fireman’s hold, one arm clamped around her thighs. Hanging over his back, nose connecting midspine, his musky aroma distracted her, and she inhaled. The curve of his glutes had her mouth watering, and the memory of those rigid cheeks in profile sent a series of hot flashes from crown to little toes.

  Su-Lin wondered if Terrence had forgotten her gymnastic abilities, but she sighed and decided to go with the flow. Best not to resist until he’d calmed down.

  “What the hell are you doing, Ter? Don’t…don’t do this. You’ll regret it.” Thomas stalked forward until he blocked their path.

  “She’s a fricking slut, Thom. Women betray. That’s it in a nutshell. One hole’s just as good as another. I’ll toss her out when I’m done.”

  “Now that was offensive, and your gold chain’s scraping my right thigh,” Su-Lin complained and wriggled in his hold so she could clasp his belt and catch his attention.

  Grunting, Terry glared at her, but he adjusted his grip and slipped one hand under the cotton lapel, easing the metal away.

  “Thank you, much better. Um, except now the medal’s tickling that sensitive spot on the top of my thigh.”

  “Jaysus. Are we going to stand here all night finding the correct position?”

  Pleased since his tone sounded more baffled than angry, she replied, “Since that happens to be either standing on the floor, or in your bed, probably.”

  Harry sniggered and tried to disguise the sound with a strangled cough.