Page 24 of In the Heir (Westerly Billionaire 1)
After hunting through her purse for her phone, Alisha texted Brett: Thank you, but I want to drive myself.
His answer came a few seconds later. Poor Todd. I hired him to drive you around. What will he tell his wife and eight hungry children?
Alisha looked over Todd with a critical eye. He’s twenty-five at best.
Maybe he started early.
No wedding ring.
He couldn’t afford one.
“You’re not married, are you, Todd?” Alisha asked across the driveway.
The uncomfortable expression that entered Todd’s eyes was the first emotion she’d seen there. “I’m sorry?”
Suddenly aware of how her question could come across, Alisha was slightly embarrassed but found herself laughing. You’re making me crazy. I just asked him if he’s married.
And?
He thinks I was coming on to him.
He’s fired.
You’re not serious. When Brett didn’t respond, Alisha texted, You would never do that.
Depends on what he said to you.
He said nothing. That was my guess at what he thought.
Good. Then he still has a job.
Alisha lowered her hands and took a deep breath. As usual, talking to Brett only confused her more. Although some of what he’d said was a joke, the last part hadn’t been. He would have fired Todd for offending her.
She struggled with how conflicted that made her feel. He should have sounded like a pompous, entitled ass, but he didn’t. There was an edge of possessiveness to how he spoke to her. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t his to protect even as a part of her wanted to be protected.
Seriously, Todd has been nothing but completely professional.
Prove it and accept the ride to the port.
One has nothing to do with the other.
I want to do this for you.
You have a problem with the word no.
So do you.
She laughed at his quick wit. Just when she thought he’d gone too far, he threw out a funny comment that softened his arrogance—made him likable.
He was a man no woman would ever control.
That should have made him less attractive, but Alisha closed her eyes briefly as flashes of what it would be like to be taken by him assaulted her imagination. Would he give as much pleasure as he took? Could any man live up to the fantasies he inspired? She’d always told herself she preferred gentle men who took their time, but her body quivered as she imagined being ravished against a wall. She saw herself clinging to him, still partially dressed, kissing him desperately as he thrust so deeply into her that she cried out into his mouth.
She bit her bottom lip, forced her eyes to open, and gave herself an inner smack. Todd looked even more uncomfortable, which made her decision easier. I’d stay and debate this with you, but I have a cruise to catch.
Tell me something.
His request was unexpected. Curious, she texted back: What?
Are you tempted?
Her fingers hovered over her cell phone as she took in his question. He wasn’t asking about the limo, and she knew it. If she said no maybe he’d move on to another woman.
No.
Doesn’t he at least deserve an honest answer?
Yes.
As she waited for his answer, she called herself all kinds of an idiot. Why am I encouraging him? Because I want him to want me even if I know I can’t have him?
I really do need to get out of here.
Good.
He didn’t say more, and she didn’t, either. She threw her phone back in her purse, placed her luggage in the trunk of her car, and waved to Todd as she backed down her driveway. Sorry, Todd, you’ll have to find another way to feed your eight imaginary children.
As she merged into traffic, she thought about his response to her admission.
Good? What is that supposed to mean?
Brett shook hands with the captain of the cruise ship and feigned interest in the tour of the bridge he’d agreed to out of politeness. Brett wasn’t one to do anything he didn’t want to, but he had contacted an old friend, who was the CEO of the cruise line, and was relying on the captain to ensure his requests were implemented seamlessly. The least he could do was listen to the man gush about their level of technical sophistication matching or surpassing those of naval warships. Electronic charts. Wind speed. Traffic. Navigators with overhead monitors. Thrusters.
Brett’s thoughts were thrown back to Alisha when he heard the captain say thrusters. There was only one thing on his mind, and it had very little to do with accurately maneuvering the ship. He had his own ideas about maneuvering and maintaining his position . . .
Brett shook his head and followed the captain to his chair in the dead center of the bridge. Locating the helmsman in front, where he could see better while steering the ship, was interesting. The computerized maneuvering system allowed for precision within decimeters, which was impressive considering the size of the craft, but no amount of joysticks or knobs could take the edge off the anticipation bubbling within Brett.
Alisha had been tempted.
Her admission had removed all doubt from Brett that he’d made the right decision. He’d never been a big fan of vacations, but the idea of having seven nights of uninterrupted time with Alisha was enough to sell him on the merits of cruising.
Would she fall into his bed that night or make him wait a day more? The uncertainty was novel and thrilling. With her, he didn’t feel like a man carrying the weight of his family’s fortune on his shoulders. Alisha made the present more vibrant. He wanted to embrace that feeling, lose himself in the pleasure of her presence and her body, even if only for a week.
There wasn’t a part of Alisha that he didn’t crave to explore more. He’d make an hour-long feast of her luscious lips. Remembering the light scent of her, the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips, he wanted to taste, claim, and pleasure every inch of her. Alisha, lying naked across his bed, offering herself to him, brought him to an uncomfortable level of excitement—all while he pretended to listen to the tour of the bridge.
When the captain’s monologue about the ship’s remarkable updated equipment finally ended, Brett forced himself back to the present. He asked for a maneuverability comparison between his yacht’s propulsion system and the cruise ship’s. The captain’s face lit up as he described the similarities and differences in painstaking detail.
“Everything is as I requested?” Brett asked when the captain finally asked if he had another question.
“I made sure of it myself. It’s an honor to have you aboard.”
“Thank you.” His friend must have said something to the captain. It was nice to know he hadn’t forgotten the boost Brett had given his career early on. “I’ll retire to my suite, then. Thank you for the tour.”
“My pleasure. I’ll have First Mate Anderson show you the way. Unless, of course, you’d like to help navigate the ship out of port.”
Some offers were too good to pass up, and he didn’t want to run into Alisha before dinner. He’d planned their meeting to unfold in what he’d hoped was an impressively romantic way. Bumping into her in the hallway would ruin the effect.
Besides, steering a thousand-foot ship was something he’d never done. It was frivolous entertainment he normally wouldn’t waste time on. It fit, though, with how he felt just then. He wanted to step away from his chronically serious, often cutthroat, business. For once, he wanted to see how the other half lived and simply have fun.
Does everything have to make sense? I want this.
For now, that’s enough.
Chapter Fourteen
After waiting in a long line to board the ship, Alisha did a quick, self-guided tour, then decided to get something to eat. Balancing a plate of food on one hand, she adjusted her purse on her shoulder and searched the busy lido deck restaurant for an empty table. She’d already checked the tables near the pool area. They were full as well. A man bumped into her, mumbling a
n excuse as he went. A group of teenage girls jostled her from the other side as they passed, one of them shooting her a glare as if Alisha had thrown herself intentionally in their way. Everything she’d read about cruises said that the first day was busy, but she was feeling overwhelmed and anxious for her room to be ready.
A blond-haired toddler ran straight into her and wrapped himself around her leg. A woman, with the same wild blond curls, rushed toward them. Clutching two plates in one hand and a large backpack in the other, she said, “Ethan, let go of that woman this instant.”
Ethan clung to Alisha tighter. “Ice meme. Ice meme.”
“No ice cream until after you eat your lunch. Come on.”
He shook his head. “Ice meme.”
Seeming as frazzled as Alisha felt, the woman looked up and said, “I’m so sorry. Could you follow us to our table? We’re right there. I’ll just put this down and grab him.”
Considering the octopus hold Ethan had on her thigh, Alisha didn’t see she had much of a choice. “Sure.”
As Alisha moved to follow her, Ethan almost fell off. She looked around for a place to put her plate so she would have a free hand to help him, but he righted himself and smiled. “Go. Go. Go. Pony. Go.”
