Pages of Passion

by Girard, Dara

  He shook his head. “No, I like it, just talk about something else.” He pointed at her and said in a stern voice, “Just try not to be funny.”

  Her lips twitched but she obliged and told him other stories about interesting people she’d met on the ship. Then she told him about her eagerness to visit the islands and what she hoped to see on her high-seas adventure. At that point Michael realized he liked listening to her talk. He liked her slight New England accent and the pictures she painted with words. “You’re a really good storyteller. Have you ever thought of writing your stories down?”

  “Oh, um…no,” she said awkwardly. “I leave the writing to my sister.”

  “You have a sister?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes, we’re twins actually.”

  “Identical?”

  “Yes.”

  He paused. “Ever switched places?”

  “A few times when we were ten,” she admitted. “But then my grandmother found out and made our lives so miserable we never did it again.”

  “Is your sister anything like you?”

  “No, she’s, um…what’s the word?”

  “Boring?”

  “No,” she said in a tight voice. “More reserved. She writes romance novels.”

  “While you live them? I bet she uses you as her inspiration.”

  She lowered her gaze. “No, she says her imagination is enough.”

  “If I had you in my life, I wouldn’t need any imagination.”

  Arlene blushed and again she baffled him. How could a woman who wore a bright bikini blush at such an ordinary compliment?

  “Tell me more about my competition.”

  “Why?” She took off her swimming cap and fluffed up her hair. She adjusted the towel wrapped around her.

  “I want to know.” Michael extended his hand and lifted her arm. “Did he give you this?” he asked, gesturing to the silver bracelet.

  “Yes.”

  “Could I at least get a name? Or are you making him up?”

  “He is not a figment of my imagination. His name is Clyde. Clyde Harris. He’s an antiques dealer.”

  “Like you?”

  “I work for him.”

  “That sounds cozy. A clever way to ensure job security.”

  She frowned. “We have a lot in common. He’s also very generous, an excellent dresser and—” she faltered and reached for her suntan lotion.

  “And?”

  “And that’s all you need to know.”

  “But I want to know more. How did you meet?”

  She shook her head. “That’s none of your business and forget about trying to get me to share anything more. You’re a man of the world and our meeting is just a moment in time. I don’t believe I am, or will be, the only woman in your life. Why should you expect to be the only man?”

  It was a fair question that Michael couldn’t answer. In an instant something in him changed. He didn’t want to be just another man in a woman’s life, the charmer, the playboy, the friend. His past relationships—both real and false—suddenly felt hollow. He craved something more. Something real and lasting. He didn’t want to be with just any woman; he wanted to be with This Woman and he wanted to be Her Man. The one and only.

  He didn’t want another man to touch her, to wake up to her smile, to taste her lips. Especially when he hadn’t had the chance to yet. The strength of his desire surprised him and he fought to keep it at bay. It had to be the medication that was fogging his brain. He was only going to take aspirin from now on.

  “Besides,” she continued. “I know more about him than I do about you.”

  Michael studied her then tilted his head to the side. “What do you want to know?”

  She stared at him for a moment then asked, “What do you do?”

  “I’m a travel writer.”

  “It must pay well.”

  “I also have various investments.”

  “How about women?”

  He grinned. “Yes, I like to invest in them too.”

  She met his grin with one of her own. “Are you investing in one now?”

  “Do you mean right now or generally?”

  She raised an eyebrow, acknowledging his interest in her. “Generally.”

  “No, I don’t have one right now, but I’m hoping to change that. Anything I invest in increases in value.”

  “I see,” she said, with a knowing look in her sharp gaze that hit him at his core. For a moment he felt exposed, as if she was a savvy game hunter recognizing the predatory nature in him, but she didn’t judge him. He knew then that Arlene may be a lot of things, but she was no ditz.

  “So you’re not going to tell me anything more about Clyde?” Michael asked, determined to stay focused on his job.

  Arlene leaned back in her chair. “There’s nothing you need to know.”

  “Why isn’t he here with you?”

  “I told you my reason before. We’re giving each other space.”

  “Do you like keeping secrets?”

  She turned to him. “Just some.”

  “I get a sense that you don’t trust men in general.” Michael paused. “Or is it just me in particular?”

  “It’s not you. I have a poor record.”

  “How bad?”

  Arlene put on her sunglasses and pushed them up on her head like a headband. “The men in my life have been deceivers, betrayers, adulterers and a host of other things.”

  “And you expect me to fall into one of those categories?”

  Her eyes searched his face, looking for something he couldn’t fathom. “Let’s say I hope not, but I wouldn’t be surprised,” she said and he saw a vulnerable look of hurt that touched him. But before he could say anything Arlene covered her beautiful brown eyes with the dark shade of her sunglasses, effectively shutting him out.

  Later that night, alone in his cabin, Michael remembered that moment and scowled as he stared at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He was one of the deceivers she’d tried to guard herself against and he hated himself for it, but he had no choice.

  He splashed cold water on his face. He had to pull himself together. She was just a woman. He’d never let a woman affect him like this, especially a target, and he wouldn’t start now. He could love them and leave them and usually did. He wasn’t cruel. He didn’t hurt anyone. He was a charmer, not a heartbreaker. He was a brief fling that made a woman feel good, and he was usually in and out of their lives before they could miss him and he liked it like that. He didn’t need permanency. He was a free agent.

  Michael wiped the water from his face with a towel, briefly pressing the towel against his face, remembering how Arlene had held him close. There was something different about her. Her soft warmth was like coming home. He’d never had a true place of safety. He angrily crumpled the towel into a ball and threw it at the mirror. No. He wasn’t going to fall for that crap. He wasn’t going to delude himself. A woman was a woman. That was all. He’d met prettier women, smarter women, kinder women, sexier women. Why was she having such an effect on him?

  Because she was genuine. She lived her life and made no apologies for it. That truth rang in his mind like a lost echo. She hadn’t fallen for him initially because she’d seen through his game. She took care of him because he was wounded, not to get something from him. And she talked to him without pretense—or a hidden agenda. She didn’t tell him about her history with men to get pity. She told him because that was the truth. He’d been a liar so long that her honesty lured him in like a beacon of light in darkness. She made him want to be a better man.

  A knock on the door took him out of his thoughts. Michael glanced at his watch. It was only eight. They’d agreed to meet at eight-thirty at the restaurant. He opened the door and saw Joy standing there.

  “Darren told me to check on you,” she said. “How much have you gotten?” She was dressed for dinner in a seductive red sheath dress. She crossed the room and sat down at his small table.

/>   Michael tucked in his shirt. “Not much.”

  “You will. She’ll fall for you soon enough.”

  “You think so?” he asked, with more hope than he’d realized.

  Joy sent him a curious look. “They usually do. Why do you sound so surprised?”

  Michael rubbed the back of his neck. “No reason.”

  “What’s up, Vaughn?”

  He let his hand fall. Joy only called him by that name when she was determined to uncover something. “Arlene may be more complicated than we thought. She’s done this before. It may be harder to get what we want.”

  “You always get what you want.” Joy leaned back and crossed her legs. “I saw you and Arlene by the pool and it looks like you’ve finally gotten her under your spell.” She paused and traced a circle on the table. “Or is it vice versa?” she asked while watching him as he maintained his distance.

  “It’s not like that,” he said in a gruff voice. He took his dinner jacket out of the closet. “I haven’t been myself. It’s been a crazy trip. First I was hit by a car—”

  Joy flattened her palm on the table and gaped at him. “What? When?”

  “Last night.”

  She jumped out of her chair, rushed over to him and touched his face. “Oh my God! No wonder you disappeared from the party. Why didn’t you tell me?” She measured him with dismay. “Are you sure you should be up?”

  “I’m all right.” For some reason her concern embarrassed him and he stepped away. Joy let her hand fall and composed herself. Years ago they’d had an affair. They had even flirted with the idea of marriage, but their relationship never got to that stage. Although they were now older and wiser and she was still gorgeous, Michael didn’t want to get that close again. Joy must have sensed it because instead of returning to the table, she sat on the edge of his bed, providing Michael with a fabulous view of her legs.

  “I’m lucky it was a sports car and not an SUV,” he said to fill the awkward silence. “I didn’t call because I couldn’t talk and I was drugged up until late this afternoon. Besides, Arlene brought me lunch.”

  “Really?” Joy asked, intrigued.

  “Yes, she was the one who found me. She took care of me and checked on me today too.”

  Joy lifted her brows. “I see.”

  “Look, I’m just playing my part. I’ve finally found a way to get to her and I’m going to use it.”

  “Right.” Joy folded her arms. “Ah, now everything’s becoming clear. I see your problem.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, she’s not Harris’s type.”

  Michael nodded, glad that she agreed. “Exactly. That’s what I thought.”

  “She’s yours.”

  Michael froze and blinked. “I don’t have a type,” he said flatly.

  A small smile curved her lips. “I think you do now.”

  Her superior grin annoyed him. Michael tossed his jacket on the other side of the bed and rested his hands on his hips. “You’ve got it all wrong.” He tapped his chest. “I’m here to do a job and I’m going to do it. I can get any woman I want,” he said, making a broad sweep with his hand to encompass all the women on the ship. “And I’ve gotten plenty. I don’t need to take someone else’s woman.” He lifted his jacket and started to put it on, then took it off and threw it on the bed. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t want one of the dumb, gullible women Harris uses as his carriers.” He shook his head. “No way. I’m smarter than that.”

  Joy gave him a look of pity.

  “I am,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you believe me?”

  “I thought you said the profile was wrong. That Arlene isn’t dumb or gullible.”

  “That’s right. She isn’t. She’s smart and sweet and creative. You should hear the way she tells stories. And she’s not sure how she feels about Harris. I think she’s trapped somehow. Maybe he has something over her and that ties her to him. But I don’t think she’s happy. She’s been hurt and worries a lot, but I seem to be able to make her smile.”

  Joy’s look became even more pitying.

  Michael frowned. “I’m just telling you the facts. I’m not getting personal. The medication I’ve been on has me a little off my game, that’s all. I am in control of this situation. I won’t fail.”

  Joy stood and shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Be careful, Michael.”

  He smiled. “Relax, nena. I’ve got this. You know I’m always careful.” And he would be. He would be objective and keep his distance. Darren wanted his property back and wanted Harris to pay. He couldn’t mess that up. His reputation, his loyalty and his friendship all depended on his success. He couldn’t let a woman get in the way of that. Not again. He had to be professional.

  But over a half hour later as he stood outside the restaurant, he saw Arlene and knew he was in danger of losing all he held dear.

  Chapter Seven

  The moment Noreen saw Michael she knew she’d worn the right outfit. She didn’t like Clyde, but the man had great taste. The clothes he’d bought Arlene were expensive yet subdued. The antiques business must pay very well, she’d thought when she’d opened a zippered garment bag her sister had made her promise not to open until the night of the captain’s ball. Inside was a two-piece black-and-white ensemble featuring a white silk spaghetti-strap top with lace trimming and a black ruffled suede knee-length skirt—touched off with a pair of open-toed black pumps (which, luckily, were one of the more sensible pairs of shoes her sister had packed). To finish the look, Arlene had packed large eighteen-karat gold earrings shaped like leaves, a snakelike gold bracelet that could fit around Noreen’s upper arm and a novelty handbag shaped like bright red lips, which would have looked cheesy on any other woman, but complemented her ensemble.

  Noreen had spent nearly ten minutes staring at the outfit, debating whether she should wear it or not. Now she knew everything was perfect. His gaze slowly and seductively slid downward, taking in every aspect of her, lingering on her bare shoulders and exposed cleavage. The piratelike air had returned to him with a vengeance that no formal attire could hide. There was something inherently male and dominating in his gaze that exhilarated her.

  Was it only last night that she’d stared at him from across a ballroom, wondering if he was a hero or a villain? She still couldn’t be sure, but now she didn’t care.

  Noreen had left his cabin that afternoon feeling giddy. She went swimming just to burn up energy. He made her feel as if she could run laps around the ship, swim the ocean, dance until dawn and do two hundred cartwheels. She was falling in love with him but the thought didn’t frighten her. For several days she got to be Arlene and she was going to relish being a little reckless with her emotions. For the duration of the cruise she was going to let herself believe in happy endings and finding Mr. Right.

  For her, Michael was Mr. Right Now and that was enough. She couldn’t have imagined a better diversion from some of the mundane activities on board. She’d cared for him, dined with him, laughed with him, been quiet with him and felt closer to him than any man she’d ever known. What amazed her was how his hazel eyes could easily twinkle with merriment, but just as quickly sharpen with an intellect that continued to surprise her. He smiled easily because he enjoyed life, not because he was shallow.

  Noreen admired his easygoing ways and with him she felt free to toss her cares aside and not worry. She wondered how long she’d be able to hold his attention. She’d never held a man’s interest like this. Being Arlene definitely had its perks. Their relationship—or whatever they could call it—was a dream, except when he mentioned Clyde, but she knew he couldn’t help being curious. It didn’t matter, because in a few days it would all be over and she was going to enjoy the now.

  Only minutes before, Noreen had come down the elevator wondering if Michael would show up for dinner. Nervous, she’d come up with several excuses for him. Perhaps they’d stayed on the deck too long or he’d grown tired of her fuss
ing over him. He’d been brusque when she’d offered to help him back to his cabin. Maybe he’d taken pain medication and fallen asleep. She sensed an attraction, but wasn’t exactly sure what it meant.

  At times he looked at her like an indulgent uncle and she half expected him to pat her on the head like an adult would a child. But then there were the moments when his eyes burned and she felt as if he were melting her clothes away. The second she saw him waiting outside the restaurant, Noreen knew it was going to be one of those latter moments and her heart pounded from relief and anticipation. She was a little late because Arlene would be. She smoothed her hair to appear more composed than she felt.

  “You look like a man who wants to skip dinner and go straight to dessert,” she said then stared at him, surprised by her own boldness.

  “Are you a mind reader?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Then I’d better guard my thoughts.”

  “Don’t.” She grinned, looping her arm through his. “I like them.”

  They walked inside and waited to be seated. “Then you know I think you look sensational,” he said.

  “I like to hear you say it. The outfit was a gift.”

  “From a male friend.”

  Noreen looked up at him. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because no female would give her friend that outfit.”

  “Why not?”

  “She couldn’t stand the competition,” he said then followed the maître d’ to a table.

  The dinner that evening consisted of grilled turkey with a glazed honey-mustard sauce served over rice pilaf; on the side were a generous helping of seasoned green beans with pineapple bits and freshly baked wheat rolls. While they ate, they watched several couples dancing on the dance floor.

  Michael caught her glance. “Sorry, I can’t dance. I don’t think I’m up to it yet.”

  “That’s okay,” Noreen said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

  Once dinner was over, Noreen excused herself and went to the restroom. She touched up her lipstick then stared at her reflection in the mirror. Arlene stared back. She wore an extravagant headband, dangling earrings and glittering eye shadow. “Okay, what do I do now?” The evening was still young and she’d never discussed what would happen next. Did she let him walk her to her cabin or did she go to his? You worry too much, she could hear her sister say. Just play it by ear.