Hooked (9 page)

Back in my stateroom, I pulled some shorts over my traitorous crotch and fetched Mrs. Dalloway from her confinement. The little devil had digs better than most people, but she still preferred to have company--specifically my company.

"C'mon, Ms. Mischief, let's go up to the bridge. I'll let you drive." She clamored up my arm and took her place on my shoulder as if to say "let's go!" Mrs. D. loved the bridge. All the multi-colored screens blinking as depths were charted and fish sightings recorded fascinated her. She didn't have the strength in her little hands to push anything hard enough to move it, so she spent her time watching the changing lights, trailing her tiny fingers over the patterns.

"You're relieved, Jackson," I told the mate. He snapped me a little salute and left me alone on the pilot deck with my thoughts. I was mulling over my dismal failure as a stud when I heard the door open behind me. Mrs. D sounded a stressed call and I turned to see Lara standing in the door to the control room. I quickly grabbed the monkey because I never knew how she'd react, especially to a female she'd only just met.

"Mr. Wolf. Oh. Richard told me to wait here for him . . . um, well then. I'm sorry to disturb you." She turned to make a flustered exit.

"You aren't disturbing me at all. Come get to know Mrs. Dalloway." Lara took a couple of tentative steps toward me and I watched the capuchin carefully. I hoped she wouldn't make a mad dash for the chef's hair or worse. Mrs. D had bitten a woman once and even without her canines it wasn't pretty. The bitch actually sued me afterwards and my little monkey cost me twenty-five grand. If it had been her perfect face instead of her ankle it could have been a lot more. Fortunately, it was only a nasty bruise that even her shark of a lawyer hadn't been able to paint as anything more serious.

Lara didn't seem the least bit afraid of the monkey, but she certainly seemed less than comfortable with me. She kept her eyes firmly averted from mine. I patted the seat beside the captain's chair and she perched on the edge of it, stiff as hell and ready to bolt. The muscles on her shapely legs were tense. I could make out the definition of her delicate, but defined muscles. Spending her days on her feet had given her an awesome set of wheels.

She smiled kindly at my monkey and looked at her through downcast eyes. It was intuitive. Lowering her head, shyly peeking at the monkey through her lashes was a naturally submissive gesture. It was also damn cute. Mrs. D read the body language and leapt from my hand onto Lara's bare knee. I knew how those cool little hands tickled on bare flesh. Lara didn't flinch, but predictably she giggled.

"Hello there, little one," she said in a sea-soft voice. Mrs. D began an inspection tour of Lara's body beginning with the edge of her denim shorts. She wiggled her hand into the pocket nearest her no doubt hoping there were bears in there.

"Mrs. D . . . be good. No more candy today." The monkey gave me one of her most disarming grins and Lara laughed out loud. Tiny simian hands plucked at the buttons on Lara's blouse and reached the swell of her breasts. Of course, capuchins don't have any manners and Mrs. D gave the two perfect small mounds her complete attention. Lara continued to be a good sport about it. I envied my monkey.

"You don't see many of those covered up, do you?" As soon as she said it, I could see the fire rise in her cheeks. "Oh . . . oh I am so, so sorry. It just came out." She stood up suddenly, causing Mrs. D. to scamper up to her shoulder. When Lara reached up to take her in her hands, the monkey bolted for the opposite shoulder. After a couple more back and forths, Mrs. D climbed to the top of the chef's head.

"Would you please get her off of me?"

I patted my shoulder but Mrs. D refused to obey.

"She doesn't seem to want to let you go." Lara still wouldn't look me in the eye. I didn't think it was possible for a person to turn such a bright shade of red without physical exertion.

"Really. I have to . . . get back to the kitchen--the galley. To work. Really."

"I wasn't aware that you had much to do tonight."

"Well no. But yes. I have to . . . several of the guys will stay on board. They'll want dinner. Please?" She leaned toward me, trying to get me to relieve her of the stubborn monkey hat. It was wicked of me, but seeing her squirm was kind of amusing. I knew she must have thought of me as a real man-whore and wanted nothing more than to get away from me. And even though man-whore is a pretty fair assessment of what I was, some niggling little voice in my head wanted to prove that I was more than what met her eye.

"It's still early. Why don't you keep me company for a while?" Mrs. D was sorting through Lara's hair, plucking strand after strand out of the loose twist at the back of her neck. It was grooming behavior that the monkey reserved for only her favorite people. I was surprised and rather pleased that my little pet had taken a shine to our new chef.

"What about
your
company? Won't you be missed?"

"The girls can amuse themselves. I'm sure you could see that when you were spying on us."

"I didn't . . . I wasn't . . ." She looked around the control room like she wanted a place to hide.

"Oh but you were. I saw the curtain rustle. Did you enjoy the show?"

"I didn't stay for the climax."

"There were several." She shot me a look that was a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. I was baiting her but I had this intense desire to . . . I don't know . . . start something. Or maybe I just didn't want her to leave.

"Look, Mr. Wolf. I'm a big girl. You haven't shocked me."

"But you didn't stay for the grand finale, did you?"

"I'm not into watching other people have sex. Okay?"

"Actions speak louder than . . ."

"I heard noises. You were only a few feet from my window."

"I'm sorry we disturbed you."

"You didn't. It's your boat and you can do whatever you want on it."

"You're quite right, I can. And what I want to do right now is have a civil conversation with you." I couldn't suppress a smile at how silly she looked with my monkey on her head. Lara rewarded my smile with a scowl. "Sit," I ordered.

She parked her little ass as before, on the edge of her seat. Her body language said "I'm here, but it's not where I want to be." Mrs. D moved back onto her shoulder and began examining Lara's ear.  Those minute fingertips explored Lara's sensitive ear and she involuntarily rolled her head onto her shoulder and laughed.

"That tickles." She reached up and this time Mrs. D allowed her to catch her in her hands. Lara held the monkey out in front of her face. "You're full of it, aren't you?" The monkey-charm smile was magic.

"She likes you."

"She's sweet. I like her, too."

"But her master's another story?"

Lara stood up again, this time handing my pet back to me. "I don't think that how I feel about you is important."

"Sit down." This time, the cat's eyed stare defiantly met my eyes. The thin line of her lips was white at the pursed edges. "We're going to spend a lot of time together on this journey. I think it would help if I knew where I stood."

"You're my boss. That's where you stand. Isn't that enough of an opinion for you?"

"No, it's not." I saw her hands clench at her sides and the flicker of something real close to anger crossed her face. "And, technically, I'm not your boss."

"Richard calls you 'the Boss'."

"Richard is both kind and wrong. It's a harmless illusion and there's no reason for me to argue with him. He doesn't know the whole story. He knows this barge belongs to my father. That's all. I'm more or less a perpetual guest--even a caretaker might be a better description. So, in the chain of command, you work for Richard who works for my father." I never admitted my real circumstance to a woman. Never. The women I dated wanted to believe El Lobo and all she represented belonged to me.  With Lara, I had this totally unfamiliar urge to spill my guts. I reasoned she'd like the real thing better than a façade. That was kind of a scary thought, too.

"I still think you're a very lucky man."

"Nice dodge. I'm not as lucky as you think."

"I don't think you've had much experience with hardship."

"And you have?"

"Not at all. I'm totally grateful for what I've had. It's not quite the same as the way you grew up"

"You don't know squat about the way I grew up."

"I have a pretty good idea."

It was so tempting. I wanted to tell her exactly how I did grow up. I wanted to tell her something that no one knew about me--at least not anyone in my present day world.. It was too intimate, too vulnerable. Clari knew. But Clari was gone. Nurse Kelly knew, but my mother sent her away.

I'd hinted at my mother's madness to Richard one night when we were both stinking drunk after a big tournament win. I'm not sure exactly what I told him, but it wasn't enough to make much of an impression on him. He'd never mentioned it again and it was just as well. Richard was a friend but in a very superficial way. He wasn't someone I could trust with . . . with all that pain. His world was simple, honest and straightforward. There was no way he could understand the perverse complexities of my childhood.

The time wasn't right. It was way too soon. I was overreacting to the uncanny likeness she had to a ghost from my past. I wanted to spill out all the things I never got to say to Nurse Kelly so she could save me. My mind was jerking me around.

"So, that's all you have to say?" I continued for lack of anything more coherent. "Lucky? I'd be willing to bet you've got a few more adjectives you could throw my way."

"You insist?"

"Consider it an order from the 'Boss'."

"Which you just told me you're not."

"Let's pretend."

"Okay . . . I think you are a spoiled brat who's never had to work for anything. I think you're a shallow player who's smitten with his own good looks. I think you float around the world on this fancy boat catching  fancy fish and fucking anything in a skirt to make up for the fact that you've never accomplished anything. I think you take it for granted that every woman you meet is dying to jump your perfect bones just because you're rich and hot as hell."

I let a slow grin spread over my face. It probably looked insolent to her, but it wasn't meant to be. I heard every word, but 'hot as hell' bubbled up to the top of the list. Hot was good. I could build on hot.

Chapter 9--Lara

"
Oh God, I did not just say that. WTF, Lara? You're going to be tossed off El Lobo the second she hits the island. Shit."
Dad always said I didn't know when to shut up and this was only the latest proof of that.

He had this half grin on his face. I couldn't tell what it meant. When he stood up, he placed Mrs. Dalloway carefully on the captain's chair and took one long step toward me. Having him stand so close to me sent every inch of me into sensory overload. The man had been naked or almost so at least half the time I'd spent with him so far. His height and my lack of it meant that I was staring right at his chest. Right at that fish hook tat that I wanted to trace with my tongue.

He tilted my chin up with the knuckle of his bent index finger. A square inch of his skin against a square inch of mine. The arc was so strong I thought it might weld his hand to my face.

"Most of what you say is true. But I'd like the chance to prove you wrong on a couple of the details."

The knuckle traced the line of my jaw; one side and then the other sending a shiver through me that made me need a deeper breath. He sensed my instinctive reaction. He could hear the silent crackle of sparks flying. He could see the hidden tightening of places I wanted him to touch.

My eyes closed involuntarily when he extended his elegant forefinger and slid the tip of it down my chest to the top button of my blouse. Barely touched, my flesh radiated along the path of his small caress.

Player he may have been, spoiled rich guy he certainly was but when I opened my eyes to meet his, there was an unexpected reality there. I wanted it to feel more practiced. I wanted him to look less sincere. I wanted to like him less. Maybe it was the monkey. She made it hard for Morgan to hide his humanity.

I waited for him to kiss me. I didn't care if it was a bad idea.

He might have leaned toward me, but Mrs. D caught us both by surprise and dashed through Morgan's legs and vaulted onto Richard's knee, climbing him in seconds and grabbing the hat off the surprised Captain's head.

I hadn't heard Richard enter because I was in that bubble that forms when your world narrows to the smallest space that two bodies can occupy. The bubble locks everything out but the notion of
two
in a place that seconds before had been reserved for
one
.

The monkey scampered as high as she could get above one of the windows and put the hat on her tiny head. The distraction gave me time to compose myself and I did a pretty good job at appearing nonchalant by the time the cap was retrieved. Morgan turned back to the ship's wheel. I wondered if his composure had been rattled too. I sure hoped it had.

"Lara, sorry about taking so long to get back here." Richard looked over at Morgan behind the wheel. Mrs. D was back in her co-pilot perch on his shoulder. "You decided to drive?"

"I needed a distraction." Morgan slid out of the captain's chair and motioned for Richard to take it.

"I'd have thought there was ample distraction for you on deck."

Morgan just cleared his throat in response. I felt newly uncomfortable and well reminded of what the
actual
reality of the whole scene was. The one I wanted to rationalize into existence just because he stood close to me sputtered and died. Richard had interrupted in time to save me certain and painful embarrassment.

"Boss, if you want to stay behind the wheel, I can continue Lara's tour," Richard offered. "We were on our way to the sea deck when they asked me to take a look at the right bilge pump."

"Actually, no, you can take over. I'm going to take Mrs. D back to her room and grab something to eat. As good as your salad was at lunch, Lara, it didn't exactly stick with me. Can you rustle up a sandwich for me?"