All the Pretty Poses
Page 10

With one big hand, Reese reaches for my fingers, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “You look beautiful,” he says softly, his thumb rubbing rhythmically up into the web between my first and second finger. The action sends a little shiver rippling through me and I stiffen against it.
Reese smiles, a devilish smile that makes me wonder how he knows the way he affects me. Because he knows. I’m certain of it.
I tug my fingers from his and force a smile of my own. “So, why am I up here?”
“Because I want you up here.”
“To do what?” I know it’s a loaded question, but I want Reese to spell it out for me. It makes me feel better to be brazen and a bit difficult. It makes me feel strong and more in control to take the bull by the horns. So to speak.
“To keep me company.”
“It looks like you’ve got plenty of company,” I say, tipping my head to his family where they sit at the bar just over his shoulder, pretending not to watch us.
“But they’re not the company that I want.”
“Is this part of my job?”
“Your job is to entertain the people on this cruise. That includes me.”
I search his eyes. He’s enjoying this—having me at his beck and call. And although some part of me thrills at the idea, another part is shying away from him and the pain he once caused me. But I remind myself that this is the means to an end. What could be a very good end for me. With that in mind, I give him a bright smile.
“Then lead the way.”
Reese makes no comment. He simply raises one brow and sweeps one arm toward the breakfast buffet set up at the bar. I take a deep breath and precede him, focusing on maintaining my smile in the face of curious looks from Sloane and Hemi, and a pleased one from Sig. But all the while, I can feel Reese’s eyes on my back, warming me to my core.
********
All day, I’ve been treated like a princess. I’ve been waited on hand and foot, I’ve eaten some of the most amazing food imaginable, I’ve sipped some of the most delicious cocktails on the planet, all while listening to the Spencers and the Lockes tell stories about their life and their childhood. And through it all, Reese has never been far from my side.
He’s barely let me out of his sight. He has lounged beside me on the deck, played beside me in the pool, soaked beside me in the hot tub and used every excuse under the sun to touch me. And every time he does, I get a little less immune to it.
Not that I was ever really immune to it. I’m just finding it easier to see the boy that I fell in love with in the eyes of the powerful man that he’s become.
We just finished a light afternoon snack of fresh fruits and rich cheeses, accompanied by some sort of lemon and coconut drink that has my head spinning lightly. That coupled with the brightness and heat of the sun is making me feel sublimely happy and a little drowsy.
Groggily, I lift my head from the padded lounge chair when a shadow falls over me. It’s Reese. He’d excused himself to go inside for a minute. And now he’s back.
“If you’re going to lie in the sun like that, you need some sunscreen. You’re getting a little pink.”
“Oh,” I say, not too concerned. I’m dark complected, so I don’t burn easily. “I’ll put some on in a few minutes.”
Without another word, Reese turns and walks back inside, returning a few seconds later with a white tube. “Here,” he says, sitting on the edge of my chair at my waist, “let me.”
It occurs to me that I should politely decline, but it’s not a very persistent thought in the warm honey that my mind has become, so I dismiss it easily. I watch Reese flip open the cap and squeeze a glob of lotion onto his palm and then rub his hands together. When his skin makes contact with mine, I let the sigh in my chest escape in a light puff of air that the wind carries away.
I close my eyes, lulled by the deep rumble of Hemi’s voice as he talks to his girlfriend and her brother, as Reese drags his fingers from my shoulder to my wrist, coating my arm in a rich layer of cream. I feel the tickle of his side against mine as he leans over me to give equal time to my right arm. After a short pause, during which I can hear him opening and closing the lotion tube, I feel his hand touch just below my throat as he rubs the scented balm into my skin.
Reese’s palm strokes a slow path—much slower than the ones he made over my arms—from left to right across my chest. Back and forth, he inches his hand toward the top edge of my bikini. My breath hitches in my throat the closer he gets. Deliberately, he dips his fingers under the edge of the stretchy material and skims the tops of my breasts. My eyes pop open when I feel my ni**les pucker into tight nubs.
I find Reese’s eyes trained on me. He’s not watching what he’s doing or seeing how my body is reacting to him; he’s watching me. He’s observing my reaction in my face, in the tremble of my lips and the pink of my cheeks that I know is there.
Without taking his eyes off mine, Reese squeezes more lotion into his hand and sets his palm on my belly. Again, his fingers flirt with the edge of my suit, teasing the underside of my br**sts and starting a throb between my legs. We watch each other as he makes his way down my stomach, his skin moving slickly over mine as he circles my navel.
His hand skates over the curve of my waist, down toward my back on each side before crossing my belly again and heading for the skimpy band of my bottoms. My muscles tighten when Reese turns his hand, fingers pointing down, and slips the tips under the material of my suit. I want to glance to my left to see if the others are watching us, but I can’t pull my eyes away from the fiery grip of his blue-green ones. I know Reese’s body hides part of mine from the view of the others and something about that makes my belly flutter with excitement.
I lick my dry lips when I see the knowledge in Reese’s eyes. He knows that this is exciting me. He knows that he is exciting me.
“If we were alone, I’d put lotion on every silky inch of your skin,” Reese whispers. I hear it like I have super hearing, like my ears are attuned to his voice above every other sound in the world. “Unless you’d like me to do it anyway. No matter who’s watching.”
A wicked light flickers in his eyes and, for the space of a single shaky breath, I consider letting him. But then my foggy mind registers the sudden absence of other voices and I realize that all other conversation has stopped.
With sheer force of will, I drag my eyes away from Reese’s and glance at the trio sitting to my left. Hemi and Sloane are smiling and looking at one another. Sig is wide-eyed and focused on me.
“Damn, how’d I miss the sunscreen party? I’m next,” he says with comical enthusiasm as he smacks his hands together and goes to rise from his chair. Hemi and Sloane laugh.
The moment is lost, so I wind my fingers around Reese’s wide wrist and stop the movement of his hand. It’s like grabbing a shaft of iron. I know that if Reese didn’t want to stop, there’s nothing I could do about it. And the firm set of his jaw confirms it. Yet he stops anyway, a show of respect for me and my wishes. I can see the regret in his expression, though, a sentiment that is reluctantly mirrored in my own. I make a mental note to watch how much I drink around Reese. Evidently, I can’t afford to let my guard down for one second.
“You’ll never get to dance for us if you’re cooked to a crisp,” Sig adds, drawing my eyes to him.
“We can’t have that,” Reese says, his gaze still locked on me. “Especially since she’s dancing tonight.”
Sig gives an excited whoop and I smile in his direction. I sit up and scoot away from Reese so that I can regain some kind of composure and clarity of thought. Even that doesn’t completely alleviate the drugging affect he has on me.
“I didn’t think we’d get entertainment since we aren’t clients.”
Reese answers Sig, but I can still feel that his eyes are on me. “Normally that’s the case. Kennedy is the only dancer we have right now, but I’m sure she can give us a dance that will more than make up for the others.”
“Hell yeah, she can,” Sig agrees wholeheartedly.
I clear my throat. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’d better get downstairs and start getting ready.”
Reese puts out a hand to stop me. “I didn’t say you were dancing now.”
“But I need time to prepare,” I tell him, pulling away.
“Not that long.”
I move to stand, trying my best to shake off the disconcerting web he has somehow managed to weave around me. “This is my first dance here. I don’t know where anything is at.”
“I’ll give you whatever you need,” he replies softly.
“No, you stay with your guests. I’ll call Karesh.”
Before Reese can argue further, Sig interrupts. “Don’t forget who you’re dancing for tonight,” he teases with a wink.
I can feel Reese’s eyes on me as I answer him. “Oh, I won’t.”
As I make my way back to my room, I take the route I took the first time I left the crew quarters, which is by way of the kitchen. There are four people, all in hats and aprons, bustling about, probably getting dinner preparations under way. The guy I saw yesterday, the one I assumed was the chef with his taller-than-everyone-else’s white hat perched atop his rusty-red head, glances up from some raw meat he’s inspecting and smiles in my direction.
“May I help you?” he asks politely.
“I was just hoping to get a bottle of water to take back to my room. Between the sun and the drinks…” I shake my head as I let the sentence trail off. The chef wipes his hands and comes around to where I’m standing.
“You’re Kennedy, right?” he asks, still smiling as he reaches me.
“I am,” I answer, finding his light brown eyes friendly and warm. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“We haven’t, but Brian told me all about you. I’m Lee Howard, Head Chef. It’s nice to meet you.”
He extends his hand and I clasp it for a firm handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Lee.”
He pulls me in to whisper conspiratorially from one corner of his mouth. “Technically all the crew is supposed to get their supplies from the kitchen in the bow, but those rosy cheeks are telling me you need the good stuff today.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t…I just didn’t even think about that…” Now I feel like an ass for stopping in here like I belong with the people up on deck rather than the worker bees below. I hold out my hand to stop Lee as he turns toward an enormous walk-in fridge. “I’ll get something down there. I’m so sorry.”
He waves me off, continuing on into the refrigerator. “No skin off my nose, Kennedy. Here,” he says, handing me a brilliantly blue bottle of sparkling spring water that probably costs twenty dollars rather than the fifty-cent bottles of flat water that are probably stocked for the crew.
“No, I can’t. Really. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Sweetie, enjoy it while you can.” Lee pushes the water into my hand and turns me toward the exit that will take me to my room. “Come talk to me sometime. Any friend of Brian’s is a friend of mine.”
I glance over my shoulder to see him give me a smile and a wave before he heads back across the kitchen to return to checking his meat.
Checking his meat…that sounds bad, I think, snickering to myself as I crack open my bottle of water and wind through the halls toward my room.
Once inside the cool, dim interior of my quarters, I collapse on the bed and take a few more sips of water, enjoying the light spin of my head as I think back on the day.
Reese has been charming and attentive, flirtatious and sexy. He’s treated me like precious glass all day. Just like the old Reese did.
I frown against the bitter thoughts that follow, thoughts of how that Reese was a figment of my imagination, of how that Reese up and left me without a word after all that happened. I’m teetering between the glow of pleasure and the gloom of memories when I hear a knock at my door. My heart lurches inside my chest and a little bubble tickles the pit of my stomach.
I bolt up off the bed and hurry to the door, pausing for a fraction of a second to take a deep breath and school my features before I open the door. I wouldn’t want Reese to think I’m happy to see him.
But the person on the other side of the door isn’t Reese. It’s Karesh. I have to swallow my disappointment and hide it behind a courteous smile. “Hi, Karesh.”
He nods. “Ms. Moore. May I come in?”
“Of course,” I say, stepping back to allow him to enter. For a moment, my arm twitches as I consider hiding my bottle of expensive water. But it’s too late. Karesh’s eyes have already made note of it. Or at least that’s what my prickly conscience is telling me.
“All the drinks and the sun today…” I tell him with a smile, tipping up the bottle as though I have no reason to hide it. Karesh simply smiles.
“I understand you’ll be dancing tonight. If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Oh,” I tell him, feeling stupid over the water now. “Yes, of course. I think I can find everything I need.”
“The showroom is directly below the lounge. You should be ready by nine.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“If you’ll let me know your music selection, I’ll let Armand know. He’s in charge of the sound system throughout the vessel.”
“Okay. Ummm, I guess Feelin’ Good by Michael Bublé if you have it.”
“If not, he can get it. We can procure virtually anything you want or need. If not immediately, then within a day or two, depending on where we are in the ocean.”