“Aaah, a little rest and relaxation, eh?”
“No. I’m checking out the operation of the liners, and I want to boost shipboard profits with a designer boutique James acquired a few months ago.”
Silence greets me, and I can almost see the shock on his face. Yeah, my friends are in for a rude awakening if they think I’m just a pretty face. I’d gone to school to study business, and even though I’ve spent a decade just pursuing my own pleasure and freedom, I’m still savvy enough not to have blown through my trust fund like a rich brat.
Most of what I have is through investing my money, and I own a few concerns in Europe that not even my father knows about. The only person I’ve allowed to see this side of me is my best friend Derek, and that guy won’t spill a word unless I give him the green light.
“Sounds like you’re settling in nicely.” Dmitri muses quietly, and I can hear the surprise in his voice.
I don’t like it. I’m arrogant, yeah, but color me green for thinking that my friends saw more in me than the party animal. No wonder Nic looks at me as if I’m a freaking bug caught on her windshield.
“I’m fine. Get me what I need.”
I’m short with him, but right now I don’t give a shit. I’ll prove to everyone that I’m more than the label they’re sticking on me, hell, a lot more than the label I hand crafted ten years ago when I ran scared from everything that meant anything to me.
It’s going to take a lot of hard work, but I swear to myself then and there that no matter what it takes, I will be the man who deserves respect from his family. And I’ll be damned if Nic doesn’t meet that man. I just have to loosen her up a bit first. Good thing I am an expert at showing a girl a good time.
Yes, sir, I’ll show Nic in these two weeks that I’m a safe bet while forcing my buttoned-up love to let loose and stop being so serious and dull.
Chapter Six
Nico
The drop off at Jack and Minnie’s goes relatively well. I’d stressed about this the entire night, and after pacing my room till five in the morning I’d come to one conclusion, things will happen as they will.
With that in mind, I’d stocked my fridge and moved Jude into my place for the next two weeks. (She needs her shows, and my absence will see the poor dear trapped in her apartment without cable.) Then I packed for Cody and me.
We took a cab all the way to the James mansion, and the closer we got, the more nervous I became. Imagine, me a thirty-year-old broad getting physically scared about things.
Minnie, of course, started crying the minute she saw Cody, and it took a lot for me not to grab my boy and make a run for it. We both held it together though, and after a ten-minute conversation, she got my reasoning.
Law ran and left me holding the bag, and I didn’t want half a father for my boy. Of course, now that he’s back, I’ll have to bite the bullet. Or so I thought.
Turns out being the gentleman he is, he went on ahead to the private airfield and left a car for me. It’s a blessing I never thought I’d have, and I am grateful.
It means I have another two weeks to plan my big reveal and get my ducks in a row before all hell reigns down on me.
At the very least I have Minnie and Jack’s promise that they’ll keep mum about Cody till I’m ready. I know that most of that is just Min’s need to keep the peace, so she can keep her grandson close, and while I feel all kinds of guilty for keeping her in the dark, I don’t regret my decision for a moment.
I’ve had ten years with my son, ten years in which to make him a strong, independent, stable little man, who won’t be slayed if he should meet his real father and see the disinterest there.
Make no mistake, I know that Lawson will be angry and that he’ll insist on claiming his heir, but I have no illusions that the guy will be father material.
I should have seen it ten years ago before I let him ride me without protection.
Oh, the rosy glasses of love. They turned me into a sappy fool.
Now I’m on a helicopter that is landing on top of a freaking ocean liner, and I’m about to spend two weeks with the world’s biggest gigolo.
Yay, freaking me.
He’s been vibrating with excitement though since we landed in Greece, and with every new sight he pointed out, he touched me to get my attention.
Call me crazy, but a flock of birds flying close to the chopper doesn’t require having every inch of his toned, awesome smelling body rubbing all over me.
Though Lord above, I still feel every lusty tingle from the small touches and constant contact. Shamed though I am to admit it, I’ve definitely gone ten years too long without sex, and I think my body is protesting that action now.
No, I never slept with Brody. Besides being his best friend and confidante, I was also one vagina too many for the poor guy since his speed was of the meaty variety.
In short, I married my very best—but very gay—friend who enjoyed a secret relationship with his secret boyfriend of five years while his family was satisfied with little old me.
He’d made the ultimate sacrifice and played the part he had to, all to no avail since his Mom and Dad died not even a month before he did, their impromptu ski vacation having turned into an avalanche nightmare that took not only the Sharps, but also three other people.
So yeah, I am totally hitting a dry spell that smells as hot and dusty as the Sahara, and maybe my body likes the soft, subtle touches and the way his eyes go all hot whenever we touch.
But I’m definitely not acting on it.
Definitely not.
“Keep your head down.”
We jump from the helicopter and shuffle run towards the deck where the captain himself greets us and directs a porter to grab our bags.
By the time we hit the main dining area, I am speechless. Good gracious, this boat is a floating palace of opulence.
“I thought we could have a quick tour and then the staff has arranged a light lunch in your private quarters. Dinner tonight will be a formal affair if you choose to join us, and we’ve arranged for you to view the space tomorrow morning.”
Lawson thanks the captain, declines the tour by saying we’re beat from all the traveling, and takes my elbow to steer me away. His steps are sure, and we reach the elevator a few minutes later without a problem.
“You seem to know your way around this bucket.”
He grins and leans against the wall, his chinos pulling tight across his muscular thighs.
“I took a look at the blueprints Dad keeps at home. Never know when we might need to get to a life boat,” he teases, and I feel an answering smile twitch at my mouth before I can call it back.
“True. So we’re here. I didn’t know these buckets were this luxurious.”
He smiles again and leads me out of the elevator with a hand at the small of my back, his heat wrapping around me and seeping through the soft cotton of the pale yellow sundress I’m wearing.
“This is nothing, you should see the Aphrodite. Now she’s a grand old dame if ever I saw one,” he muses, opening a huge set of double doors leading into…holy Moses on a stick.
The quarters that Captain Stein had spoken about are big, really big. There’s a sitting area, dining room, kitchen, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms.
The place is bigger than my apartment back home, and so state of the art perfect I’m almost afraid to touch anything.
Lawson has no such qualms though as he kicks his shoes off and pads to the dining room table where a feast of fruit, cheeses, and breads awaits.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I’d been too wound up to eat breakfast, and Lawson grins over at me, pulling out a chair and waiting.
“Let’s feed the beast, huh. It sounds like that roaring monster’s about to claw through your stomach.”
Blushing because the sound really was quite horrendous, I scoot into the chair and flinch at the feel of his smooth hands grazing my shoulders.
No, vagina! Remember the last time you let him fool you? Yo
u ended up with a beach ball for a stomach and morning sickness that didn’t quit till month five.
Down girl!
We tuck into the spread and stay silent till our hunger is filled. And then I get awkward because as much as I despise Lawson James, I cannot deny how smoking hot the guy still is at thirty-two.
He’s got a few laugh lines around his eyes that I don’t remember and a quiet stillness that is so at odds with the always-moving boy I loved all those years ago.
And that’s when it hits me and things get super awkward. Lawson has changed through the years. Where before he was quick to laugh and fill the silence, this man seems to be okay just sitting back and enjoying the peace.
I don’t like it one bit because, instead of looking at him like the bug he is, my mind is trying to force me into seeing him as he is now. And Goddammit, it’s hard to see those blue eyes and hate him, especially when all I see is my son and what he’ll look like when he becomes a man.
It’s hard to hate someone who gave me the very best part of my life.
“So, you still pissed at me, Nic?” he asks finally when the minutes have ticked by with nothing but a staring competition and inner ramblings.
The question surprises me, and I narrow my eyes at him, hating like hell that the answer is yes—but not as emphatic as it would have been only hours ago.
“No.”
His eyes widen in surprise, and then narrow when I take a slow sip of water before continuing.
“I stopped caring one way or the other a long time ago. You aren’t worth bogging myself down with negative emotions.”
The statement—while very harsh—is mostly true. I haven’t allowed myself to hate Lawson all these years because, quite frankly, I haven’t allowed myself to dwell on him and what he did to me.
Now, is another story though, because we’re basically in each other’s pockets for the next few weeks—and yeah, familiarity and close quarters are re-stoking the anger. Truth told, I kind of hate him for being such a disappointment, but then it’s not as if he promised me forever.
Nope. Lawson was always honest. He told me he loved me but wasn’t into heavy commitment, and me being a starry-eyed fool, I’d convinced myself that he’d eventually love me enough to settle down.
Dumb.
“That’s, uh, honest,” he says eventually, and I just shrug and toy with my glass.
“I value honesty. Makes thing easier in the long run. No heartache or disappointment that way.”
Law winces, and I tick off a win on my battle card, feeling a hollow sense of victory for hitting my mark.
“True enough. So, you have a son?”
Chapter Seven
Law
Nic tenses the moment the words are out of my mouth, and I feel my chest tighten. She hates me, fucking hates me so much that she won’t even trust me with a few snippets about her son. Makes sense, since he’s probably the most important thing in her life, but hell, I need to know a few things about the kid if I’m gonna be his new dad in the future.
“Come on, Nic. I get that you hate my guts after…but we have to work together. Surely, we can find better footing and learn about each other. I’d at least like us to be friends.”
She chokes on her water and gives me a bath in the process. I grin and wipe the spitty water from my face, licking my lips for just a taste of her. Oh yeah, I have every intention of having a lot more of her in my mouth by the time this cruise ends, but this is good enough. For now.
“Sorry.”
“No worries. Been a long time since I had your spit in my mouth.”
I thoroughly enjoy the blush that my words inspire. Nic is the quintessential good girl. Sure, she’s got the mouth of a trucker on a good day, but the woman is all innocent blushes and skittish movements around men.
“Control yourself, James. Your brand of come-ons don’t work with me.”
Aaah, but me thinks they do, sunshine. Why else would you be blushing or staring at my mouth like it’s a bar of chocolate to your chocoholic?
“That’s too bad. No, but seriously. Tell me about your life. You were married and had a kid?”
I’m pushing, but I can’t wait two more days for that dossier to get a glimpse of my Nic. I want to know now. I want to figure out the competition and make myself so fucking perfect for her that she won’t have a choice but to let me back in.
I don’t deserve her trust, and I know it, but I don’t care. If that makes me an ass, that’s fine by me, as long as I get what I want in the end.
Nic swallows and looks off into the distance her eyes unfocused, and I know not seeing any part of the deep blue ocean beyond the windows.
“My husband…he was my best friend. He came into my life when I needed him the most, and I…I adored him. When Cody came along, we were really happy. Uh, he died when Cody was just over a year old. Brain aneurism. He just…died—and that was that.”
She looks so sad that I can’t help but feel bad about her husband dying like that. Sure, I don’t know the guy, and frankly, I could do without hearing about his superhuman feats and how great of a screw he was, but for some reason I hate that she lost something that important to her.
“So, uh, your son?” I press, not knowing how to react to her sadness.
Her light blue eyes shutter for a second before she takes a deep breath and looks back out into the distance.
“Cody. My light. The kid has a genius IQ. They bumped him up to ninth grade just last month, and it looks like he’s gaining momentum,” she says, though her smile seems just as strained as it is proud and loving.
“You don’t seem too happy about that.”
Fuck, who wouldn’t be thrilled that their kid is a genius who’s likely to be in college before he really becomes a man.
“No, I am; it’s just…I wanted more for him than constantly striving for more, you know? And the tuition, God, you have no idea how much schools for gifted children cost.”
While I appreciate that she’s talking, something about the way she’s skirting around anything personal has my hackles rising. Sure, I love the fact that her son is just as genius as his mom, and damn, do I appreciate that he must take more after her than his father, but I was hoping for something more than general talk.
Maybe a photo? Something that’s more…personal.
“He must be quite a kid. I remember how quirky you were when we were younger.”
She smiles a little, and I feel as if the sun has started shining again.
“Yeah. Cody is nothing like that; he’s a typical boy. He loves soccer and baseball and hockey, and I still read to him. Not little kid books, but it’s great that he still wants me to do those things for him.”
That gives me hope. I’m no dunce, but I can safely say I’m no genius. Maybe the kid and I can get along fine with sports because, God knows, I am more of a jock than a bookworm.
“We should set up a friendly game at Mom and Dad’s place. Invite some of his friends and play some ball. Or we could rent out a rink and play some hockey.”
Nic’s face pales, and she shakes her head once before meeting my gaze.
“Cody is at a really vulnerable age right now. I don’t want you flitting in and out of his life only to disappoint him, Lawson. He takes male relationships very seriously, and I know you, you’ll be all in till you lose interest.”
“Nic.”
“No! If I thought you were at all interested in him, that would be fine, but I’m not letting you use him to get in my pants, and then when you lose interest, which you always do, you’ll be gone again. Leave my kid alone, Law. He’s not a fucking tool.”
“I know that! Come on, Nic. We’re friends—”
“No, we aren’t. You’re my boss, and that is the way that shit will stay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired; I think I’ll take a nap.”
I’m left speechless when she storms off and a door slams somewhere down the hall. Seems Nico is wiser to my ways than I originally thought. No matter. If she
won’t let me in, I’ll just have to find another door.
Of course, I’ll do whatever I have to do to get her, including using her kid. I don’t feel a scrap of guilt, because while she thinks I’m my usual fly-by-night self, I have something a lot more permanent in mind.
Nico Sharp is still my girl; she always has been and always will be. Now I just have to get the kid on board.
Chapter Eight
Nico
The space for the boutique is a dream of modern art. Situated slap bang in the middle of the retail deck, a veritable shoppers’ paradise, the little store is all white and sleek and boasts art that I can’t afford but would probably sell a kidney to own for a day.
And the clothes…why Fox’s isn’t making money is beyond me because they boast a few lines from some of the world’s best designers—and even an eclectic mix of African apparel.
I love everything about this place, and while it’s not yet up and running, thanks to the million changes Law wants to make, I have to grudgingly admit that the place is definitely going to be a success. Already I’ve had to field inquiries from a host of women who’ve walked by and want to come in to see the collections.
The clothes are great, really they are, but I suspect a lot of those women spotted Law and wanted a closer look at his fine ass. Like Miss Big Boobs over yonder, who’d managed to slip by me earlier and is currently shaking her tarty ass at him.
I hear another juvenile giggle and roll my eyes heavenward, trying to keep myself busy by cataloguing and pricing shoes to put into the system later.
A lot of this work is actual hands-on stuff, but I don’t mind, and really, if it stops me from having to watch Law slaver all over the bleached-blonde, brainless twit currently piercing my eardrums, that’s fine.
Keep telling yourself that Sharp.
The blonde keeps giggling—and I risk a peek over, almost snarling when she leans closer, her boobs almost popping out of her neon pink halter top—and proceeds to start pawing him.
The sight is enough to make an already sleepless night and the iffy temper I have from guilt spiral into what I refuse to believe is the green-eyed monster of jealousy, and it takes a monumental effort not to walk over, pick her head bald, and kick Law where it will hurt.
LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) Page 68
