Wooing Justin: The Cameron Family Saga, Book Two

by Shirley Larson

  I regretted each and every one of those extra twelve pounds I carried as I reached for a hand hold and then found a foot hold. Gradually, I heaved myself upward, thinking the next time I had a lame brain idea like this, I should forget it. But with each successful pull that brought me closer to the top, I felt a sense of victory. I, who had no physical prowess at all, was conquering a rock. After this, dealing with Justin should be a walk in the park.

  Justin

  I’d gone down to my cabin and stripped off my clothes to step into my minuscule shower. I must have washed my hair three times. I told myself women paid a lot of money for an oil treatment, but I couldn’t get the blasted stuff out.

  I got out of the shower to towel myself off. I’d expected the tea in the face. I hadn’t expected the salad and I certainly hadn’t expected the oil. That woman had a temper. I never saw any of this volatility in Anne when we were in school. She got teased about her red hair and she got teased about her intelligence, and she got teased about her out-of-date clothes, but she never exhibited any of this flash and fire. She endured it all stoically, never lashing back.

  I dressed, telling myself I had no regrets. It was the only way. I had to keep her away from me. Otherwise, I’d take her to bed and there’d be no thought of her being a paid companion. I’d want to make her mine for now and for any of the time I had left. And Anne, beautiful Anne, fire-filled Anne would be stuck with a man who couldn’t dance, couldn’t fly, couldn’t bend over and pick up his kids without decorating them with fluid. I couldn’t do that to her. She deserved better. She deserved a guy who was whole and healthy.

  I went up on deck…and decided I might just kill her after all. There she was, climbing a wall. What in all hell possessed that woman? I could see it wasn’t easy for her. The guy who was climbing with her was at the top and coming back down while she was still going cautiously upward. I could see she had a safety harness on, but still…Man, I wanted to get my hands on her and shake her till her brains rattled. Who did she think she was, Wonder Woman?

  It hit me then, starting with just a little pain at first. But I knew what it was. Watching Anne climb that damn rock had given me the start of a migraine. If I didn’t go immediately to my cabin, take my damn pills and lie down with a cold cloth on my head, I was in for a big one.

  Anne

  I can’t tell you what a great feeling it gave me to make it to the top of that rock. Sure, I took twice as long. But I didn’t quit. I made it.

  I went back to my cabin for another shower, then I returned to the deck for a stroll. I heard the piano playing in the dining room and went to see who was tickling the ivories so well. The music was a Chopin composition, I think, the Raindrop Prelude. To my amazement, the talented piano player was Belinda. There were other people standing about, listening to the child play. I went over to her parents.

  “She has such a feel for Chopin.”

  Mrs. Johnson turned to me with a delighted smile on her face. “You know Chopin?”

  “I know that particular piece. She plays it beautifully. Is she one of those children who can hear something and immediately reproduce it on the piano?”

  “Yes. We have her working with a teacher now, and she is doing so well. We’re so happy that she has an outlet.”

  “That’s very important, to have something that you are good at.”

  “I’ve heard that man that you’re with…Justin, is that his name? I’ve heard that he plays guitar very well. I was wondering if he would play something for my daughter.”

  “I’m not sure Justin has his guitar with him, but I’ll ask him.”

  The afternoon waned and there was no sign of Justin. He would not retreat to his cabin and sulk, I knew that. I began to worry.

  Dinner came and went and no Justin. The evening’s dancing ended and he still hadn’t appeared. By now, I was close to frantic. I caught the steward who was in charge of the cabins on our deck. “Is Mr. Cameron in his room?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He asked not to be disturbed.”

  “He has a medical condition and I’m his nurse. I need to see him.”

  “You’re his nurse?” The steward shook his head. “Strange kind of nurse if you ask me, pouring salad on a man’s head.”

  “It’s called tough love. Steward, are you going to give me his cabin number or do I have to speak to the captain?”

  He hesitated and then said, “It’s 213. He told me I’d get no tip if I let anybody know where he was.”

  “Well, if he’s lying there dying, you won’t get a tip anyway, will you?” I said tartly. “You did the right thing. I’ll make up for his lack of tip. Now come along with me and use your master key to unlock his door.”

  Inside Justin’s cabin, it was pitch black but I got a glimpse of the layout when the door opened. It was the reverse of mine with the chair to the left. I went cautiously toward it, waiting for my eyes to adjust to no light. After a bit, I could make out his still form on the bed, a cloth over his eyes. Automatically I reached for his wrist and looked at my watch. His pulse was a slow and steady sixty-six. Extremely relieved, I replaced his hand on his chest. Silly as I was over Justin, my relief made tears come to my eyes.

  “I’m going to kill that steward.” His voice was husky and held pain.

  “No, you’re not. You’re going to lie there and be very still and quiet.” I checked the cloth on his head. It was too warm. I rang for the steward and ordered two ice packs which he brought very quickly. I wrapped the one ice pack in the cloth he’d had on his head and by using the little light in the bathroom, found a small towel for the other pack.

  “Lift,” I said, cupping his head with my hand and sliding the other pack under the nape of his neck.

  “Well, isn’t this jolly. You get to play nursemaid after all. How about finding something for me to drink so I can take another dose of pills?”

  The water in the tap wasn’t drinkable, of course. I rang for the steward again and asked for ginger ale.

  “Pills are in the top drawer of the night stand.”

  After he’d taken the meds, he lay back down and said, “You’ve done your duty, Nurse Ratchet. You can go now. Your aged swain is probably missing you.”

  “Oh, absolutely, that‘s what I‘ll do. Waltz right out of here and go tango with Mr. Bellows. Sounds exactly my kind of thing.”

  He caught the pack on his head with one hand and half raised up, reaching over to catch my wrist with the other. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here.”

  “Oh, I get it all right. And I say tough. What makes you think you should always get what you want? So. What are you going to do? Get up and throw me out?”

  “If I could, I would. I’m not going to have this migraine forever, you know.”

  “Of course you’re not. Justin, please. Do us both a favor and shut up.”

  He sank down on the bed and was quiet. Good heavens. Did I actually win this one?

  Then came the husky whisper. “When I wake up, you better be gone.”

  Exasperated I said, “Do you always have to have the last word?”

  “Yes.”

  I let him have his little victory but I wasn’t leaving. I sighed and settled down in the lounge chair, thinking it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 7

  Justin

  The damn migraines always left me disorientated. When I woke, I wasn’t sure where I was. Then I looked over at the empty chair and remembered. God, what did I say to her last night? It can’t have been good. By my bed sat a tray with tea and a scone. I sat up and decided I was both hungry and thirsty.

  The tea was lukewarm, but drinkable. The scone was cranberry, not my favorite but I wasn’t in a position to be picky. I wasn’t in much of a position to be anything. I showered and dressed, feeling as if I were a hundred years old. I looked at the clock. Six a.m. Another hour and we’d be debarking. I decided it might be a good idea to pack.

  I was throwing things in my suitcase when the knock came at my
door. I went, thinking it was probably the steward.

  It was Anne.

  “I just came to see if you’d surfaced. You know we’re debarking in an hour.”

  Anne at her most formal. Anne at her most polite. Anne at her coolest, most distant. Not the Anne I wanted to see. But she was the Anne I deserved.

  I tried to match her formality. “Should I thank you for my tea?”

  “The steward brought it at my suggestion. He’s still worried about his tip.”

  She looked showered, rested, completely self-contained, and utterly beautiful. “What time did you leave last night?” I asked her.

  “About an hour ago. I felt sure by then that you would live through the night.”

  “Unfortunately,” I added, hoping to get just a small smile from her.

  No such luck. “Unfortunately,” she agreed, her face smooth, her tone cool. “When you finish packing, I’ll meet you up on deck.”

  I tried for cheerful bonhomie. “Sounds like a plan.”

  She left without another word. Damn. She had on a white dress, plain, short length in a style that suited her body. Its stark whiteness only made those vivid blue eyes and red hair stand out, showcasing her beauty. What I wouldn’t give to be a whole man for her.

  I didn’t have a hell of a lot of hope for these treatments. I’d been told there was only a thirty-percent chance they would work. I think in the back of my mind I knew I was going through this little exercise just to make my family feel better. Which wouldn’t have been such a sacrifice if they hadn’t thrown Anne into the mix.

  I grabbed my suitcase and my guitar and headed down the hall for the stairs that would take me up on the deck.

  Anne

  Justin hailed the taxi that would take us to our hotel. I slid in the back seat and then scooted as far over from him as I could and looked out the window. What a contrast Puerto Rico was to winterized Rochester. Palm trees and high rise hotels and condos and people in the street carrying baskets of bananas and wearing colorful clothes, reds, blues, and yellows. There is an air of relaxation in the tropics. Did it come from the fact that people did not worry about freezing to death? Women walked with a confident rhythm, men looked healthy, tanned and lean.

  I glanced over at Justin. He, too, was taking in the sights. With his blond hair and fair skin, he was a complete contrast to the dark haired, dark eyed men on the street. In his beige slacks and a turquoise button down the front shirt open at the throat and worn loose over his pants, he looked very posh, very upscale island, and very edible.

  At the hotel, which was modern and included views of the ocean, we registered. I was handed a message that came over the motel’s internet from Liz Cameron. Natalie was doing very well. She would be confined in rehab to be kept out of the sun, but her spirits were good. She’d charmed everyone she’d come in contact with.

  I was very glad to receive this news. I sent a message back telling Liz to give Natalie my love and to say that we’d arrived at our hotel and Justin would be going into the clinic tomorrow.

  A young bell hop showed us to our rooms. Well, not a room. More like a luxury suite stocked with the requisite fruit and wine basket. We were, of course, right next to each other. I had a spacious sitting room which looked out on the ocean complete with luxurious white wicker furniture and a print on the wall of a huge cerise flower. I think it was a hibiscus blown up to ten times its size. The print reminded me a little bit of Georgia O’Keeffe’s paintings. It seemed to me that this print, like her art, was attempting to see into the heart of the flower. I suppose that’s what I was trying to do, see into Justin’s heart. Which was impossible. I would go along, being pretty cock sure that I understood him and wham! He’d hit me with something like he did yesterday. I guess my formal act would continue until we returned home…if I could keep it up.

  I suspected Justin would spend the day resting, getting ready for his entrance into the clinic and the start of the procedure tomorrow. It was my understanding that as far as Justin’s part in it, he’d simply be injected with the stem cells that the doctor hoped would help him grow new brain tissue and stop the leaking. He would get an injection every day for the five days we were here. He had to stay at the clinic for those days. The down side was, he was not to go out into the hot sun, or in any way exert himself. So even just to go out and walk around the grounds of the clinic was not possible. He’d be stuck lying in bed in a dark room in the middle of a Caribbean paradise.

  Since we checked into the hotel, I’d heard nothing from Justin. I decided to go out that afternoon and catch the sights. I stayed in my white cotton dress and donned the rope wedge heels. I was ready to explore.

  I left the hotel, and found a local band playing music and a man and woman dancing in the street. Spectators ringed the couple. The woman had on a long, beautiful dress, with my best guess about ten yards of yellow material over a white underskirt. The man wore a yellow shirt and white pants. I was wishing Justin were here. He would have been able to pick up that melody and play it on his guitar in perfect imitation.

  Justin

  I paced the hotel room, knowing I’d probably pay the price for my anxiety in a minute or two with a drippy nose. Where the hell was she? I shouldn’t have let her go meander about the streets looking like she does. She’d be a prime candidate for any kind of scam…or any Lothario. I knew I had to stay here out of the sun and I didn’t want her trapped here with me, but damn it. Why didn’t I think of buying a sun shade umbrella and going out with her?

  If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself. And why in hell do I keep pushing her away? A tropical island, a beautiful woman. What am I, crazy? Here in this setting she’d know it was nothing serious. She’d know it was a bit of fun, answering the siren call of the tropics.

  Anne

  How could I feel so desolate in such a vibrant place? The sun was full on, the tropical zephyrs wafting over the red hibiscus trees. The sweet breeze lifted my hair and danced it around my head giving me a sense of being wild and free.

  But I wasn’t wild and free. I was here for Justin. I needed to get back to the hotel.

  Outside my room door, I slid my key in its slot and wondered for the thousandth time what Justin was doing. I opened the door and didn’t have to wonder any more. He lounged on my couch, the one that faced the art work, playing his guitar, doing intricate runs that sounded like music written by the gods. Then he launched into a melody that was totally haunting. It was as if I already knew that song, and yet I’d never heard it before. I stood utterly still, listening. It invaded my soul.

  He stopped playing and brought those bright green eyes up to me.

  I couldn‘t stop myself from saying, “That music is beautiful.”

  “I call it…Annie.”

  That jolted me out of my determination to keep calm. “Is that in the way of an apology?”

  “Probably the best way I know to say I’m sorry. Did it work?”

  “Yes,” I said, crossing to the drinks table and pouring myself a finger out of the vodka bottle and adding lime juice.

  “You don’t drink.”

  “So you keep reminding me.” I needed alcohol, a strong dose of it to keep from snatching that guitar out of Justin’s hands and dragging him in the bedroom. I turned around and leaned back against the table, drink in hand, doing my best to imitate a sultry Lauren Bacall. “Are you quite comfortable here in my room?” To my surprise, my voice came out sounding cool and formal.

  “Quite,” he said, matching my formality and putting his guitar aside to balance carefully on the end of the sofa.

  “Can I offer you a drink? There’s a well-stocked bar here, or I can call room service if there’s nothing to your taste.”

  “Oh, there’s something here to my taste, all right. But it isn’t a drink.”

  I knew what he meant of course. Those dark eyes told me exactly what was to his taste. “Justin, don‘t.”

  “Don’t what,” he said, easing up off the co
uch and moving that lean body toward me in the graceful way he had.

  “Don’t say something you don’t mean.” I was still improvising wildly with him, just as I had done on the ship. It wasn’t so easy here. There was an intimacy of having him a foot away from me in a hotel room that my nervous system could not ignore. Still holding my drink, I turned around to avoid the sight of Justin’s hungry eyes and studied the ocean view. The Cameron family paid a pretty penny for it, I should at least try to enjoy it. Justin came up behind me and took the drink from my hand. I faced him then. “I’m not finished with that.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  From that low tone in his voice, I knew I was in trouble. In an attempt to calm myself, I turned back to the window. “I love the ocean. I guess most people do. It’s a source of endless fascination.”

  “Much like yourself.” He slipped an arm around my waist and brought me back against his chest. Then I felt the brush of his lips on my neck…and the hardness of his erection.

  I had sat up all night watching over him and now I was tired. Most of all I was tired of playing games. Still looking out at the ocean I said, ““I don’t know what you want from me, Justin. You don’t want to be friends, or anything more than friends.” I was warming up to it now. All the anxiety I’d felt sitting with him through the night, not knowing whether I was making a mistake by not calling in the ship’s doctor, not knowing if I dozed off I might wake up and find him dead suddenly came to fore. “What do you want from me?”

  “Just this.” He turned me around in his arms and found my mouth with his. At first the kiss was a sweet meeting of lips. But when I pressed closer and wrapped my arms around his neck, he sought the entrance to my mouth with his tongue. I opened for him and played my tongue against his. Soon he’d settled in to a lover’s rhythm and certain cells in my lower body started tingling in anticipation. He grasped my buttocks and lifted me into him, letting me feel his erection.