Wooing Justin: The Cameron Family Saga, Book Two

by Shirley Larson

  “Well, you’re a fast worker. The first day on the ship and you’ve already made a conquest.”

  You know it’s a really strange thing. I took one look at Justin, and all I could think of was my designer bra and expensive silk panties. And I thought, Liz Cameron was right. It was very nice to know they were there.

  I flashed the sweetest smile I had in my repertoire at Justin. “I wouldn’t call it a conquest. I’d call it being friendly. And after all, I don’t have anything else to do since you dismissed me.”

  Justin thrust his fingers through his hair, a gesture that meant he was frustrated. I remembered it well. The Cameron men all had thick, unruly hair. Hunter and Alex had midnight black hair while Justin’s hair was that intriguing blond color that was mostly gold with pale strands threaded through. The other two brothers had curly hair. Justin’s was straight except for one perfect wave in the front that dipped nicely over his forehead. I had spent a lot of time looking at that wave in history class. I’d even drawn it on my notebook, trying to get it just right. I never did.

  “Just because I don’t want you around doesn’t mean you have to find some other poor joker to dazzle with your lethal charm.”

  Chapter 3

  Anne

  Lethal charm? I had lethal charm? This was news to me. I was the high school nerd who spouted correct answers in chemistry class. I was the poor sap who Miss I’m-So-Popular started a rumor about, saying I’d put out for any boy who asked me, me, the girl who’d never had a date. I was the woman who when I went for a Pap smear, the doctor couldn’t believe I was a thirty-one year old virgin. I know, I know, you’re thinking that in this day and age that’s not possible, but trust me, it is. I was the drab nurse in the drab uniform who spent all her spare time with her sister. At least I was until Liz Cameron became my fairy godmother.

  “Isn’t it fortunate that you are completely immune to my alleged lethal charm?” I smiled sweetly at him. We had wandered together toward the table where there were more finger foods laid out than I had ever seen in my life. Creamy dips and spicy dips and avocado dips and crusty bread that looked like it had been flown in from a bakery in France and melon and plums and grapes and…well never mind. Suffice it to say, I had immediate thoughts about having to watch what I put in my mouth. My fellow nurses had warned me that it’s easy to gain ten pounds, even on a short cruise. I didn’t need ten pounds. In fact, I needed twelve less than I had.

  Confronted with all this tempting food, I couldn’t resist. Deliberately I dipped one of those crusty bread pieces in a creamy dip and offered it to Justin. “You must try this. It’s delicious.”

  The scowl he gave me was equally delicious. But wonder of wonders, he took the tidbit into his mouth. “Wasn’t that good?” I was so sweet he’d need an insulin transfusion when I was done with him. “I’m sure you’ll want another.”

  Just as I was reaching for the second bread crust, he caught my wrist in a grip that was just tight enough to show me he meant business. I wondered if he realized that though he’d told me never to touch him again, he had no qualms about grabbing me whenever he felt like it. “That’s enough.”

  I loved it when those green eyes shone brilliant with temper. At least I was arousing some emotion in him even if it wasn’t the one I wanted.

  “I’ve been extremely tolerant with you, but I’ve reached the end of my patience.”

  How handsome he looked in a white shirt open at the throat, the expensive beige sport coat and brown pants belted round his slim waist, and those green eyes blazing hot. And how wonderful it was to know that I could have this effect on him I tugged at my wrist slightly, but he still kept me manacled with those slender fingers, whether to teach me a lesson, or whether he didn’t want to stop touching me, I couldn‘t tell. I really hoped it was the latter.

  “I’m so sorry you’re upset. I can’t imagine what I’ve done to disconcert you.” Oh, brother. I didn’t know I could do this fake solicitous act so well. I went on riling him, wondering just how far I could go. “I haven’t thrown myself at you, or even asked you to dance…”

  “Damn good thing you haven’t. I don’t dance.” As if he’d almost forgotten he had a hold of my hand, he let go of me rather too quickly, almost flinging my wrist away from him. Which was not a good thing because the tone of his voice and the way he’d taken hold of me had people looking at him as if they thought he was abusing me.

  Instantly, I looped my arm through his. With the Cheshire cat smile on my face, I murmured, “Justin, for Pete’s sake, be careful. People are looking at us, wondering if you‘re getting ready to beat me.”

  “They’ve got that right,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I know you better than that. You’d never purposely hurt anyone.”

  “I might make an exception for you.”

  Now we were definitely getting looks from a woman who stood next to us at the table. “You mean that in the nicest way, don’t you, darling?”

  Oh, my. Who knew I had such courage? For good measure, I ignored his order never to touch him and slid my hand across his cheek in a lover’s caress. I don’t know what it did to him, but the feel of his smooth skin with the tiniest hint of male bristle had my stomach clenching in an old, familiar way. The way I used to feel when I’d see him across a classroom with the sun shining on his golden hair as he bent over a test tube in the chemistry lab. Back in those days, he’d look up and catch me looking at him. I’d duck down and pretend he was imagining things, but he’d grin to show me I wasn’t fooling him.

  Before he could protest, I stopped touching him and used the arm I had looped through his to propel him to the double doors that led out to the deck. To my amazement, he went along with my escape plan.

  The deck was empty and rather forlorn with its lounge chairs spread out and unoccupied. There was only the sound of the ship’s engine throbbing like my heart and the swish of water parting under the hull. In my haste to get away from curious eyes, I forget that it was November and even though we were headed for the topics, we weren’t there yet. The air was cool. A full moon hung suspended in the sky, shining brightly through a pale haze of clouds. I strolled away to the rail, trying to give the impression that I wanted to watch the sluice of the waves separating under the ship, but in reality, I wanted to show Justin that he could return to the dining room if he wished. I certainly didn’t want him to think I’d dragged him out here for a romantic kiss or something equally idiotic.

  Then the urge came over me to see just how far I could push him. I was wearing the silky blue dress with a cross-over bodice that left my arms bare. My one concession to my self-consciousness about my bust size was Liz’s filmy scarf with its ocean colors tossed casually around my neck. Anyway, I turned toward Justin and leaned back against the railing, plainly flaunting my assets, a move I have never done in my entire life. The scarf blew nicely across my throat. I felt like an actress playing a part. Which I was. Of course, my red hair was its usual wild jumble, swirling merrily around my face. I brushed it back and gave him a straight, dead on look.

  He seemed to be clenching his teeth. “Am I supposed to come stand at the rail and share a romantic moon-lit night with you?”

  I smiled and said merrily, “Well, first of all, there’s no romance here. And secondly, for all I care, you can take a flying leap into the ocean.”

  He came closer, as if he needed to get a better look because what he was seeing didn‘t match up with his conception of me. “When did you become such a spunky little number? I remember you as being shy and cautious. One time at the Lilac Festival…”

  I jumped in quickly, hoping to distract him from his thoughts. “Lilac Festival, Lilac Festival. I’m supposed to remember something. Nope. Nothing comes to mind.” Of course, it all came back vividly to my mind. A bunch of us high school kids were hanging out in Highland Park and listening to a band play hard rock with the loudest amplification on earth when Charlene, the popular cheerleader, whacked her boyfriend on th
e shoulder and said “You’re it.” Six people tore off in several different directions. One of Charlene’s groupies, Marian, came around a lilac bush and knocked me flat on the ground. Before I knew it, Justin was there giving me his hand to pull me up with enough momentum to make me body slam him. He’d done it on purpose, I could tell from the gleam in his eye. He held me for a moment and then he let me go.

  I suppose my eyes flared because he said, “You need to get out more, Annie.” He smiled as he released me. I wasn’t afraid. I was stunned because I had to resist the urge to fling my arms around him and kiss him senseless.

  I continued on with my Lilac Festival monologue, whether to distract him or me, I wasn‘t sure. “Oh, yes, I do remember the Lilac Festival. The lilacs were never in bloom during the Lilac Festival, remember? You played there with your band, didn‘t you?”

  “Yeah, my guys did a gig there one year.” Now he stepped close and caught my chin in his hands.

  His face, so well-known and so dear to me, had an expression that I couldn’t read. It was as if he had a tough math problem he wanted to solve and couldn’t.

  He released my chin from his hand and I was sorry to lose that warm touch. Then, as if to tell me my thoughts were spot on, he said, “I can’t figure you out.”

  My only thought was, Thank God. I flung my scarf across my throat and said in my best Marlene Dietrich voice with a terrible German accent, “I am not surprised. I am a woman of mystery, no?” And next I thought…. what the heck are you doing?

  He looked amused, just as I wanted him to be. “I think you’re a little crazy. Are you sure the sea air hasn’t gone to your head?”

  Clearly he wasn’t buying my act. He knew me too well as the studious, shy little mouse. Well, heck. No more mouse for me. I turned and looked out at the sea. It was a beautiful night, one that would never come again in my lifetime. “Did you know that Marlene Dietrich only ate every third day? Think how inconvenient that would be if Clark Gable called on the second day and said, (here was my best Clark Gable voice which wasn’t that great) ‘Marlena, honey, let’s go out to dinner tonight.’ And she’d have to say, (here was my Marlene Dietrich voice which sounded very much like my Clark Gable voice, except with a German accent) ‘Clark, my dearest man, I regret to say this isn’t my night to eat.’”

  Then to completely spoil my little dramatic scene, the wind took my scarf and whisked it over the rail and into the sea. I watched in horror as the waves swallowed up that priceless piece of silk. Priceless because it was the bond between me and the most gracious woman I’d ever met.

  “Damn it!” I paused to catch my breath and then went at it again. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.” I rammed my fist against the rail. I had to swallow back the emotion that rose in my throat and there were tears in my eyes. It was as if Liz Cameron had given me two things to take care of and I’d gone down in flames on both of them. Her beautiful scarf just went sailing into the ocean and I was doing my best to irritate Justin.

  Before I knew it, Justin stepped close to me and put his arm around my shoulders. Oh, how good the warm heavy weight felt against my cold body and colder heart.

  “Annie, Annie.” That sweet name of old. No one ever called me Annie but him. The sound of his voice, so deeply male and so consoling made me struggle harder to keep back the tears. “It’s just a scarf, sweets.”

  “It didn’t belong to me,” I said, still unable to look at him. “It belonged to a dear friend.”

  He took my chin again and turned me to look at him. “If, as I think, that dear friend is Liz Cameron, I happen to know for a fact that she can well afford to buy a new one.”

  “Not like that. It was a piece of art, one of a kind. It’s just that I never seem to be able to take care of anything properly. I couldn’t take care of my sister and I can’t take care of you and I can’t take care of a darn silk scarf.”

  “You do carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, don’t you? How old is your sister?”

  I thought that an extremely odd question, but I said, “She’s fourteen.”

  He caught my shoulders in his hands. “I’m sure with you as a role model she’ll grow up to be a wonderful woman.”

  It hit me then. He knew I’d accepted money to be with him, but he didn’t know the reason why. And at this moment, I saw no advantage to telling him. Why should I? We were two people caught in a bizarre situation. When his treatment was over and we sailed back home, we would never see each other, unless, God forbid, he ended up in the emergency room again.

  “You must think I’m a complete idiot.” I was recovering now, regaining my poise. The last thing in the world I wanted from Justin Cameron was sympathy.

  “I think you’re very…interesting.” He stood back and made a frame with his hands. “Will the real Anne Wentworth step forward please?”

  I took a step forward, feeling very vulnerable. I had no scarf and nothing to hide my feeling for him. I knew it was all there in my eyes.

  He got that expression on his face again. And then he said, “Now it’s my turn. Damn it.”

  I felt instant alarm. Was he feeling ill? “What’s wrong?” I took another step toward him.

  “You…stay right where you are. Because if you take one more step, I will give in to this violent urge I have to gather you up in my arms and kiss the life out of you.”

  “I don’t want your sympathy.”

  “Oh, trust me, Annie. Sympathy has nothing to do with it.”

  I wanted desperately to step forward and call his bluff. But if he kissed me, then what? A quick rough and tumble in his cabin only to have him look at me with disgust in his eyes the next morning? A kiss that would seal Justin in my heart forever but would merely launch a shipboard affair for him?

  Chapter 4

  Justin

  She stayed right where she was. Smart girl, I thought. No need to get involved with a sick man who might be sporting a drippy nose and migraine headaches the rest of his life.

  “Good,” I said. “Much better that way.” I looked at her standing there with that dress blowing around her knees and her hair every which way looking like a Christmas package any man would want to open and keep opening for the rest of his life. I turned away because my nose needed attention. I’d learned the hard way that getting riled tended to bring on the weeping nostrils.

  I grabbed the ever ready handkerchief out of my pocket and dabbed. If I stayed around Miss Anne Wentworth, I’d be dabbing at my nose every minute. I thought it quite possible I was losing brain cells along with brain fluid. What would a beautiful, funny, adorable, capable woman want with a wreck like me? I went to the rail, so I wouldn’t have to look at her face as I sent her away and said, “You’d better go in. It’s getting chillier by the minute and I’m not going to be a gentlemen and offer you my jacket.”

  Even with my back turned to her, I could feel her hurt and disappointment. But then I heard the sound of the dance music from inside, and I knew she had given up on me. Feeling shittier than I had any right to, I turned around just in time to see the swirl of her dress slide through the door as she disappeared.

  I tried to tell myself it was all for the best. She was a scheming woman who’d come on this trip with me because she’d been bought off. Alex brought me the glad tidings. Alex was our accountant, both for the business and personal expenses. I couldn’t tell you right this minute how much money I had, but Alex could. When Alex saw the gigantic check that had been drawn on Hunter’s private account, almost a half a million dollars, and Liz Cameron had signed it, Alex asked me if I knew anything about it. Of course when I saw Anne’s name, I told Alex I knew the woman, but neither of us could fathom why Liz would give her so much money. I couldn’t see how Liz even knew of Anne. Neither of us wanted to tackle Hunter about it. His standard answer to any question about Liz’s funds was, “my money is her money. Do not ask me this question again.” When I saw Anne on the deck before we departed, it all made terrible sense. Liz had paid Anne to be my bab
ysitter. And for a half million dollars, she’d agreed.

  I smashed my fist against the rail. I’d thought better of Anne. I thought she was one of the few women I knew who was honest. It was hard to believe she was so materialistic.

  I brought out the box with the three carat solitaire diamond ring. I’m surprised Anne didn’t take it when I offered it to her. It wasn’t a half a million, but hey, twenty-five thousand dollars is a lot of money in my book. The ring was perfect in all four C’s, color, cut, clarity and carat. I’d even taken Andrea to the jewelry store to get her approval. She’d swooned over it and told me it was perfect. And then while I was in the hospital the second time, she’d given it back to me. She’d wanted the freedom my money would give her, but she wanted it attached to a whole man. What Andrea enjoyed was going out, dancing, dining, and having “fun.” Being engaged to me was like having a stone in her shoe. It interfered with her dance nights.

  I held the box over the rail. I intended to drop it into Davy Jones’ locker and send all thoughts of Andrea and any other lying woman along with it.

  But I wasn’t Hunter Cameron’s brother for nothing. “Don’t be a fool,” he’d said, when I’d told him what I was going to do. “Return the ring and use the money to buy that handmade guitar you saw on line.”

  Another guitar. This ring would pay for the custom twelve string baby I had my eye on. I took one last look at the ring, snapped the box shut and slid it in my pocket. “I’ll turn you into a guitar. You’ll be much prettier then.”

  Chapter 5

  Anne

  I sat in the dining room the next morning, hoping to see Justin. Even catching a glimpse of him ignoring me would ease my heart. I’d worn my sea-going outfit, my white cutoffs and my navy and white striped shirt, thinking what the heck. I might as well play shuffleboard with the Rosenblooms after breakfast.

  Then Justin strolled into the dining room rather nicely turned out himself in navy button down the front shirt and white pants. Bellows followed him in. When Justin saw him making a bee line toward me, he caught the man by the arm. “Say, listen, old man.”