by J. A. Coffey
He couldn't solve her problems for her. She was better off without him, but he wasn't going to leave it like this. Mason Drury wasn't a commitment kind of guy, but then, he didn't do one-nightstands, either.
Serial monogamy, that was his game. For the rest of this cruise, he was going to be monogamous with Casey Cash. Now, to convince her to be monogamous with him.
*****
The door to the passageway banged shut behind Casey, and she leaned against it, exhausted. She wanted to escape to her room, but Tyler was probably there. He was being paid to be with her, but somehow she didn't think he would appreciate her need to talk about screwing a stranger. Especially since he was the one she was supposed to be loving for the next week.
She straightened from the door, clutched her bag tighter and headed down the corridor. Forget Tyler. She needed to get to her room and get fully dressed. She couldn't find her panties on the deck and her bra was stuffed inside her purse. She felt naked without those tiny essentials on her body.
Passing one of the large meeting rooms, she glanced inside. A crowd of people worked on balloon nets, and four more hung some kind of sign. No guests seemed to be around, at least not yet. Thank God.
They must be getting ready for a private party. She quickly slipped past the glass doors and continued down the hall. She needed to get away from the party before the guests showed up. She felt thoroughly made love to, and was sure she looked it, too.
She should email Jane.
Casey dismissed that notion from her brain. She didn't want to talk to Jane just now. Well-meaning or not, half of this problem was hers. She'd hired Tyler to help Casey forget Nate, and then a reporter got wind of the scheme. Now that she'd slept with him, Casey wanted Mason, a man who very well could end her reputation.
Except he seemed like a nice guy. Reporters were egotistical, not known for personal integrity. God, if Mason was the reporter, she had already given him more than enough ammunition against her. She couldn't tell him about Tyler, too.
One more encounter like tonight and she would tell him anything. She'd been ready to tell him why she couldn't see him again--all the details--up on deck. Not the smartest move she had made.
No. She needed to disappear from Mason Drury's radar before she told him all her secrets and fell in love with his abilities between the sheets. Sure, he knew where her room was, but she could ignore when he knocked. If she paid close attention to a room before she entered, she could probably avoid him for the rest of the cruise.
A crowd of men and women in near-formal wear exited the main ballroom, laughing and talking. Casey slunk to the side of the hall, letting them pass by. An elderly couple were the last ones out of the room.
The man paused, noticing her trying to disappear into the wall. He elbowed his wife and pointed. "Mags, it's her," he said in a loud whisper.
Mags shook her head and tried to pull him away. The old man stepped forward.
"Excuse me," he said. His voice was rough, as if he was getting over a cold. Casey couldn't tell if he was sick, or if it was just his age. "You're Cassandra Cash, aren't you?"
A blush heated her cheeks as she stepped away from the wall, running a hand through her hair. Busted. Wonderful.
Pasting a smile on her face she nodded. "Yes." She held out her hand and it disappeared in the healthy grip of the older man's.
"I knew it. I told you it was her," he said, turning to his wife. "Mags, can you believe it? Before the party and everything."
She smiled at the older woman, who looked apologetically back at her and then expelled a breath.
Here it comes.
The older man looked excitedly at her. "I'm Eddie, this is Maggie." He pointed at his wife. "I just wanted to let you know, we love your books. You saved our sex life...it was like you looked into our world. Like you knew us, or at least Mags," he gushed. "Eddie," Maggie said, drawing out his name and grabbing Eddie's hand. She tried to pull him down the passageway.
He resisted for a moment, but Maggie's grip was too strong. "But I wanted to tell her about our problems back when--"
"She doesn't need to hear about our problems. She's a nice young girl. She doesn't want to be bothered."
"It's okay," Casey said before she could stop herself. "I like meeting people. It's one of the nice things about being a writer."
"But you're not here on a book tour, other than the party tonight, I mean. You want to be left alone." Mags pulled on Eddie's arm, and he reached out with his other arm to pat Casey on the shoulder.
"Your books are great," he said. Casey felt like she'd been punched in the gut, but in a good way. Tears threatened at the corner of her eyes and she caught her breath. They liked her. Even with the baggage piling up behind her, they liked her.
"Let's leave the poor girl alone," Mags said, pulling Eddie with her down the hall.
"But I wanted to tell her before--" The rest of his words were cut off when the two got into the elevator down the hall.
Huh. That was nothing like she'd imagined. Not one question about Nate or their break-up.
Maggie and Eddie made a cute couple. They reminded Casey of her grandparents. Ewww, now she would have an image of her grandparents having sex with her book on the nightstand. She shook herself and put the thought out of her mind.
Smiling, Casey continued down the hall. She would take the next stairway down to her room. Maybe Tyler wouldn't be there. If he was, she would just ask him to leave. For a little while, at least.
Rounding the corner, Casey jogged down the steps and turned right. She stuck her keycard in the door, but nothing happened. Turning it over, she saw why.
She'd grabbed a business card from her purse instead of the plastic key. Rolling her eyes, Casey chuckled and turned it over.
Her heart stopped.
The business card read Drury and Sons Plumbing and had several New York prefixes listed. It must have fallen from Mason's wallet when he dropped it on the chair.
He wasn't the reporter? Great judgment strikes again, Casey. You just ran from an average guy who could have been something more. The thought made it harder to stick with the original plan.
She had felt safe in his arms tonight.
Sheltered, almost.
But if Mason wasn't the reporter, then who was? At least thinking it was Mason gave her someone to avoid. Now it could be anyone on board the ship. Even Mags and Eddie could be reporters in disguise.
She opened the door just as a firm hand gripped her elbow.
"I normally go with the flow on these assignments," Tyler said, fire shooting from his bloodshot eyes. Where had the nice, comfortable, nosebleeding Tyler gone? He continued, "But being left to deal with your fans is not in my contract. You've got to fix this."
Casey's brain tried desperately to catch up with Tyler's. What was he talking about, her fans? They didn't know him from Adam.
Did they?
"What are you talking about?"
He grabbed her bag and, tossing it into the room, grabbed Casey's elbow and pulled her down the hall.
"I'm talking about everyone on board wishing me happiness and asking about your next book. Dinner was bad enough, but then some of the staff cornered me and asked me to make sure you showed up in the meeting room tonight because the ship was throwing us a party. I don't know anything about you. Do you know how hard it is to make up stuff about someone I don't know, but everyone else seems to?" Tyler came to a screeching halt outside the meeting room.
Casey could hear hushed talking inside.
"Now, I've got you here. Thank God because I can't pretend to know enough about you to scam all these people. Get me through this, and then when we get back to the room give me the crash course in Cassandra Cash," he said, pulling Casey into the room beside him.
"Surprise!" A hundred voices called out the wish, and Casey wanted to sink to the floor. Happy faces smiled at her from across the room, and a few people tossed confetti into the air.
Tyler pressed his hand to the
small of Casey's back, plastered a smile on his face and muttered, "I did not sign on for this."
Casey wanted to agree with him. She didn't need a surprise party to celebrate whatever these people were celebrating. Just that she was on board the ship with them? Somehow Casey didn't think so.
She caught sight of Mags and Eddie sitting in the front row. Eddie tipped his champagne glass in a silent toast and then sipped. Mags nodded her head and smiled. Casey felt like she had fallen down Alice's rabbit hole.
Turning, she caught sight of the banner over the head table, and froze. In big letters, with colorful pictures of balloons and ribbons emblazoned on a white background it read, Congratulations, Honeymooners!
Chapter Five
Jane was so freaking fired.
Casey wanted the boat to open so she could sink to the bottom of the ocean floor. Had she been transported to some alternate universe where the object was to ruin her life?
She glanced up at Tyler and saw a thin trickle of blood seeping from his nose.
Crap. What more could go wrong?
She squeezed Tyler's hand and pulled him to the head table. Tilting his head back like January had back in the stateroom, she placed a large napkin over his nose. This wasn't just affecting her life. If she couldn't lower his stress level, he was going to need one of those blood transfusions he joked about.
This whole thing was crazy. If he was this super-escort, why did he keep getting stress-induced nosebleeds? It didn't make sense. Escorts were supposed to be suave and debonair, not nerds with tissue habits.
Tyler's angry green eyes flashed at her. "I'b nod kiddin'. You'b godda stob dis."
Casey nodded. She needed to stop a lot of things, but how to tell these people she wasn't a newlywed, that this man in her room was basically a stranger, without ruining her image. Or the reporter ruining her image once they were off the ship and he could twist this innocent situation into something dirty.
A sigh escaped Casey's lips, and then another set of female hands appeared to add a layer of napkins to Tyler's nose. January. From the way she'd acted in the stateroom and now here, she would probably be only too happy to play house with Tyler. Homewrecker.
January's up-do was gone, replaced by a curly mass of hair that had been hot-rolled to within an inch of its life. Dark brown eyeshadow, black eyeliner and a gallon of mascara made her eyes pop out of her head, and a thin trickle of sweat rolled down her face along her hairline. Her lips were pulled tight, making a thin edge of her lip without liner or lipstick.
"I'm sorry," January said. The words were barely a whisper. Her ship uniform had been replaced by a glittering black halterstyle gown and black spike-heeled shoes. The polish on her thumbs was chipped, as if she had been worrying the area with her other fingers. She looked more frazzled than she had in the suite earlier, but what was she sorry about?
She finished dealing with Tyler's nosebleed, and said, "I had nothing to do with this. I just want you to know that." She pushed her hands through her hair, calming a few curls.
Well, that was a relief, but Casey didn't much care who was responsible. She just wanted the insanity to stop. She shouldn't have left the deck. Should have hidden out there with Mason for a few more minutes. Maybe then she could have avoided Tyler and this stupid party.
Turning to January, she asked, "What is this?"
January shifted from foot to foot, wringing her hands together like dishrags. "It's kind of a wedding reception." She held up her hands when Casey would have interrupted. "I didn't do it. There's an entertainment director who talked to your agent about a book signing. We're supposed to work together, but apparently he is a complete idiot and decided that a fan reception would get more attention from our guests. Before I could tell him that you two sharing a room was a mistake, he'd already planned this whole thing. Sent invitations to most of the rooms and the reservations were coming in."
"Planning is one thing, but inviting half the ship is another." Casey motioned to the crowd. The guests talked quietly, stealing glances at the head table. Probably trying to figure out what was going on. She saw Mags and Eddie holding hands at their table, two halffilled champagne glasses between them.
They were going to be crushed.
"All of these people were invited?"
January wrung her hands, glanced from Tyler's napkin-covered face to Casey and the crowded hall. "The entertainment director sent invitations to every room, but would have only allowed the first two hundred to make reservations. If it's any consolation, I cut him off after about seventy-five called in. The rest are either in the casino or the dance club." No. The thought wasn't the least bit consoling. The reporter was probably hiding in the crowd, cackling with glee at getting the scoop on Cassandra Cash's non-existent newlywed status.
At least Mason wasn't here.
He'd been up on deck with her when the invitations went out. Besides, a plumber probably wouldn't be interested in a honeymoon party. Especially for a couple he didn't even know. A knife clinked against someone's glass and Casey and January turned to the sound. A middle-aged man in the back stood. "I propose a toast," he said. The fringe of salt-and-pepper hair over his ears didn't quite match the deep brown of his toupee. He was dressed in a black suit, blue shirt and tie. He was probably wearing High Karate aftershave. "To the newlyweds. May your life together be rich in love and happiness."
The knife clinked again, signaling the end of his toast. Several partygoers catcalled and whistled, obviously wanting the newlyweds to kiss.
Casey looked at Tyler, head lolled back, napkins covering his face. The napkins puffed up and he said, "Dod eben ting abou'did."
"Do something." January hissed the words through her tight lips, trying to hold her glued-on smile in place. Casey did the only thing she could. She told the truth. "I, um, am not quite sure what to say. Thank you all for coming tonight, but I'm afraid there's been a slight misunderstanding." January inhaled loudly.
"Tyler and I aren't married." A collective gasp filled the room. "We have the same last name, and sometimes people get a little ahead of themselves," she said, sending a killing look to January. Really, this cruise line had to be run by imbeciles. "Tyler and I...uh...recently met. I guess you could say we're seeing each other regularly--" Like each time they stepped into the stateroom. "But we aren't married."
A few faces frowned at the news. The wait staff stopped moving between the tables to stare at Casey, and the band set up at the back of the room stopped tuning their instruments. From somewhere in the back came, "So does that mean the party's over?"
Casey couldn't tell which guest asked the question, but everyone in the room looked interested in the answer. She looked at January, who shrugged, and then Tyler made a no-way motion with his free hand. A bright red splotch of blood seeped through the napkins. She needed to get him out of here.
"The party isn't over. You can stay and enjoy the food and dancing as long as you want, but I need to take Tyler back to our room. He's a little...under the weather."
Grabbing a clean napkin, Casey raised the mass of paper from Tyler's face. The trickle of blood had turned into a steady stream. Was the man sick? How could a person bleed this much over stress? She replaced the mass with another stack of the soft paper and put her hands under his arms.
Tyler took the hint, stood, threw his head back and let Casey lead him from the head table.
Mags stopped her before she could leave the room. "A cold compress on the back of his neck might help that," she said, motioning to Tyler's napkinclad face. "One of our boys used to get nose-bleeds all the time. Usually from fighting. You might try that."
Eddie interrupted, "And come back to the party. You should have some fun."
Casey felt Tyler stiffen beside her. He was probably afraid everyone would follow them to the stateroom if she didn't come back.
"I'll try, Eddie. But I have to take care of Tyler first," she said, pulling Tyler along with her.
She wanted out of this room, and if s
he could get away with it, she would leave Tyler behind and just run. Except there was nowhere to run. Surrounded on all sides by water, the most she could hope for was the harsh ocean sun ruining her complexion.
"We think it's just wonderful that you've found your hero. Just like you say in your books--having it all can be easy." The words drawled out a syllable at a time. Two older ladies, wearing flowered hats, black dresses and sensible shoes stepped forward from the crowd. The ladies smiled, patted Casey and then Tyler on the arm. "Everyone deserves the happiness that true love can bring." Patting their chests, the ladies nodded their heads. The only thing missing was the waving white handkerchief to complete the Southern Belle picture.
"True love," one said, sighing. "A truly wonderful thing," the other said.
"Ting you, ladies," Tyler mumbled through the napkins. "We should get back to the room," Casey said.
The ladies giggled, probably thinking about what would happen once the new couple was alone and no longer bleeding. Wouldn't they be surprised? The closest she planned on getting to Tyler was getting this nosebleed stopped.
*****
Mason entered the hall just in time to see Casey hustling a tall man with brown hair and a wad of napkins pressed to his face from the room. Everything went red.
He opened the crumpled invitation he found under his door and frowned. An invitation to celebrate the marriage of Cassandra and Tyler Cash.
