Don't Tempt Me (16 page)

Absolutely,
she told herself.

Another part of her sighed,
I bet Adrian does temporary lust really well.

~ ~ ~

Finally, the day of the Valentine's cruise arrived. Jackie's stomach fluttered as she mounted the stairs to the quarterdeck. She assured herself her nervousness was due to the cruise. The rapid beat of her heart had nothing to do with the fact that Adrian would show up any minute.

She checked with Ti on the readiness of the ship and crew, then turned to watch passengers board. A jittery stomach was perfectly normal, considering all she had riding on this venture. She'd sunk what little savings she had left into finishing the cabins and hiring the extra hands needed to sail the ship for a four-day cruise.

Thumbing an antacid into her mouth, she surveyed the main deck where the bartender and galley hands were passing out mimosas to excited couples. The February sun played peekaboo behind the clouds, but the tropical music coming over the loudspeakers went a long way toward setting a festive mood.

The St. Claires' idea had been to provide a taste of fantasy and a trip back through time, its theme being a pirate ship sailing the Caribbean Sea. To that end, Jackie had ordered traditional sailor's garb for the galley crew: pullover tops with broad, horizontal stripes and three-quarter-length pants. Her own outfit was a big-sleeved shirt with black leggings tucked into boots. She'd cinched her waist with a bright red sash but left off the jacket due to the blessedly warm weather. For added effect, she'd thrust an antique dagger in the sash and wore two gold hoop earrings.

As for the professional sailors on board, she'd given them free rein to put together whatever old-world attire they wanted, which was the only way she could get most of them to dress up. Even though hard-core sailors frequently saw themselves as throwbacks to an age when seafaring men endured months of grueling labor, then blew off steam by indulging in liquor, prostitutes, and knife fights, they resisted catering to tourists. Despite their condescending attitude, she noticed that once they donned their costumes, they took to their roles with relish. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched the antics of two crewmen as they swung from the rigging like Errol Flynn, delighting the passengers.

The rumble of a Harley cut through the music and laughter on deck. She strode to the rail and saw Adrian half riding, half walking the motorcycle down the pier, drawing the eyes of fishermen and day sailors along the crowded wharf. He wore his hair back in its customary ponytail and his leather jacket hung open to reveal a torso-hugging turtleneck. His faded jeans stretched tautly over his thighs.

Oh man, she nearly groaned aloud at the sight of him. How could she have forgotten just how unbearably gorgeous he was? And she couldn't even gawk openly, like the women in the sailboat across the pier.

When he reached her ship, he looked first at the men in the rigging, then lowered his gaze to her. "Were you about to set sail without me?"

As if,
she thought. "Actually, we have one more van-load of passengers coming from the airport, so you're just in time to join the pre-cruise party."

"Party? I'll be right there." He grabbed the saddlebags off the back of his bike and headed up the ramp. She asked Ti to be sure the motorcycle was loaded into the hold, then went to meet Adrian at the top of the gangway. He stepped onto the crowded deck and looked around, taking in the festivities. "Boy, you weren't kidding."

Though noon had yet to arrive, several of the passengers had clearly had more than one mimosa and were dancing to the music or waving to people on the dock. A tarp provided shelter from the weather for the bar area near the foredeck. The crew had also set up a buffet of fruit and finger sandwiches.

"Great job," Adrian said. "This is perfect."

"Actually, this is the easy part. We're used to having parties on board. Things will get more interesting once we set sail."

"What do you mean? You leave port all the time."

"Not for four days at a stretch." Jackie snagged a glass from a passing tray and handed it to him. "Oh well, for better or worse, welcome aboard."

Laughing, he took the glass. "Maybe you should have one of these, to settle your nerves."

"Don't tempt me." She pressed a hand to her stomach.

Speaking of tempting ... Adrian let his gaze drift over her as he took a sip of mimosa. During the past months, he'd managed to convince himself that he could be around Jackie without wanting her naked. Wrong. Talking on the phone with a couple hundred miles between them did not compare to having her right before him looking like a vision from one of his kinkier fantasies: the one that involved her tying him to her bed in the captain's cabin. Thank God her chest was squished flat under that big-sleeved shirt, or he'd have a hard time not jumping her on the spot.

"So." She looked around. "You want me to show you to your cabin?"

I'd rather see yours.
He shook off the thought and he ordered himself to keep it friendly. "That would be great. The day's warmed up since I left the inn, and I'd like to get out of this turtleneck."

"Okay, then, follow me."

Handing his drink to a waiter, he hitched the saddlebags over his shoulder. "You have no idea how much I've looked forward to this, especially after the winter we've had."

"Oh?" she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder."I got the impression you were having a good winter."

"Good, but busy." They wove their way through the clutter of coiled lines, then around a mast toward the housing over the main hatch. "Between Galveston's annual Dickens on the Strand, Christmas, then New Year's, we've been booked solid. Things slowed down in January, but with Allison gone on her honeymoon, I've had to pitch in cleaning rooms and doing an endless amount of laundry. Do you have any idea how many sheets and towels we go through in a day?"

"I have a feeling I'm about to find out." She started down the wooden steps, bending forward slightly. The tail of her shirt rose up, giving him a perfect view of her firm, round backside. "Mind your head," she said.

He smacked into the top of the hatch. "Ouch!"

She turned and laughed up at him, the sunlight sparkling in her hazel eyes. "Now you know why men who took to the sailing life back in the old days were usually on the short side."

"Either that or hunchbacked." Rubbing his head, he ducked enough to make it down the steps.

"This is the galley, where you'll take your meals with the crew and other passengers. Just be forewarned, we do our best but the food isn't as good as what you serve at the inn."

"As long as I don't have to cook, it'll be great."

"Officers' quarters are aft." She pointed to a passageway across from them. "The crew sleeps on the level below us, and passengers' cabins are this way." She started down the passageway that led toward the bow. "I'm afraid your cabin isn't our best, but the trip sold so well, it's the biggest one I could spare."

"I'm hardly going to complain about the response being so good."

"Me, either. It's just ..." Her hands moved in a restless gesture, as she stopped at the first door on the right. "After you gave me your best room, I know I should have done the same, but ... truth be told, my expenses are through the roof, and I flat-out couldn't afford to give my nicest cabin to a nonpaying passenger."

"Jackie" ---he grinned at her ---"it's not a problem."

"Yes, well, here we are." She opened the door and stepped back so he could enter.

He had to turn his shoulders to get through the opening, but the room itself wasn't that bad. He dropped his bags on the narrow bunk and noted the storage drawers underneath, a miniature desk and mirror along one wall, a small closet. Everywhere he looked, varnished wood and brass gleamed.

"The head's through here." She closed the cabin door, then maneuvered past him, filling his nostrils with the tropical scent of her shampoo as she opened a door that was even narrower than the first.

He came up behind her to peek at the sink, flush toilet, and a shower that was basically a drain in the floor with a curtain to pull around it.

"It's small, I know." She turned to give him room, but bumped into him. Their chests and thighs connected for one electrifying instant before she jumped back and came up against the doorjamb. "S-sorry." Her voice turned breathy. "It's kind of tight in here."

He looked down at her flushed face. "It'll be fine."

She stared up at him, her eyes dilated, their bodies almost touching. "I'll, um ... find a way to make it up to you."

His gaze dropped to her full mouth, the lips that had fascinated him from the first.
Step away,
his common sense shouted, but the scent of her was filling his head.

One taste,
he thought.
Just one small nibble to make up for not paying attention the last time.

Propping a hand on the wall above her head, he leaned close, breathing her in as he gave her a chance to decide. Her eyes widened, but no knee came toward his groin. He lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips touched, and he stopped for a heartbeat. Then the plush feel of her mouth registered, and he closed his eyes to savor.

A moan rumbled in her throat, vibrating through his body. She surged against him, catching him off guard. He adjusted quickly, deciding a big bite was even better than a nibble. And God, she tasted good. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers in his hair. Heat flooded him with startling speed.

Pulling her close, he moved his hands over her torso, marveling at the feel of her firm, slender body. If only she weren't wearing a blasted sports bra.

Her hands moved to his back, clutching at his leather jacket as if trying to feel him through it, and he cursed his own clothing as well, especially when her pelvis rubbed his arousal through his jeans. Hunger turned urgent. He moved a thigh between hers. She gasped at the contact, and he hardened even more.

Cupping her bottom through the leggings, he hoisted her against the cabin wall. Her legs went around his waist as he pinned her there with his body.

"Oh yes!" Her head fell back as he pressed into her core, and the pleasure on her face nearly shot him over the edge. He buried his mouth against her exposed neck and her pulse pounded against his lips. The one brain cell he had still working registered that the bunk was barely two steps away. He could have her on the mattress, her body naked, and be thrusting inside her in a minute and a half. Two minutes, tops.

"Cap'n Taylor?" a deep voice called out in the passageway.

They both froze.

"Cap'n? Are you down here? Mr. Ti needs you on the bridge."

"Shit!" she whispered, then knocked her head back against the wall a couple of times as if to engage her brain. "I'm coming!"

"No, but close," Adrian murmured near her ear.

"Aye, sir! Er, ma'am." Footsteps receded.

Adrian rested his forehead on the wall and laughed in frustration as he let her legs slide back down.

"This is not funny, you ... jerk!" She shoved hard against his chest.

He stumbled back, only to have his calves collide with the bunk. He let himself fall, deciding it was easier than standing in his current condition.

"I can't believe this," she ranted. "What the hell has gotten into you ---kissing me like that?"

Propping himself up on his elbows, he stared down at the obvious bulge in his blue jeans. "Gee, I can't imagine."

"Jerk!" She threw something at him and it landed on his chest. He glanced down and saw the rubber band that had been holding his hair.
When had she pulled that free?

"This was not supposed to happen." She managed to pace in the small cabin. "What about us being friends? I thought you really meant it. You haven't even flirted with me in forever!"

"Yeah, well, that's easier to do when I'm not looking at you."

"Then don't look at me!" She pressed shaking hands to her forehead, shielding her eyes. "And fix your hair, would ya?"

So she liked how he looked with his hair down, eh? Sitting up, he finger-combed his hair back from his face and fastened it at the nape. "Okay, it's safe. You can look now."

He nearly laughed when she peeked through her fingers before dropping her hands.

She stood before him, looking every inch the lady pirate in her billowing white shirt. "Okay, here's the deal, and the rules. I realize that in some warped way, you enjoy getting me flustered, which, okay, I can handle away from here, but I will not have you treating me with disrespect on my ship!"

"Disrespect?" His amusement vanished. "I have never treated you with disrespect."

"What do you call ... that?" She gestured toward the wall where their bodies had been pressed.

He stood and towered over her. "Spontaneous combustion."

"Well, I won't have it!" she raged up at him. "Not on board my ship. I may not be twenty years old and struggling to start my own business anymore, but I am still a woman trying to make a living in a world dominated by men. Do you know how hard I've had to work to win the respect of my crew? Every time I hire a new sailor, I have to prove myself all over again. Half the men on board this trip are new, and I will not let you come along and undermine my authority by treating me like ---like ---"