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Tempted
Kimberly Van Meter


Her greatest temptation…As far as Harper Riley is concerned, attraction can't be trusted. Money, on the other hand, lasts forever. Which is why Harper's on a singles cruise for her latest target: a wealthy widower who might just need a new wife. So why can't she keep her eyes—or her dirty thoughts—off the ruggedly hot guy in the room next to hers?Of course, the charming ones are always broke, and Teagan Carmichael is both ridiculously charming and inexcusably broke. Worse still, there's some serious heat sizzling between them. But Harper has too much riding on this job to have her head turned by Mr. Deliciously-Sexy-But-Poor. She already knows that giving into a little temptation can turn into a whole lot of trouble…







Her greatest temptation...

As far as Harper Riley is concerned, attraction can’t be trusted. Money, on the other hand, lasts forever. Which is why Harper’s on a singles cruise for her latest target: a wealthy widower who might just need a new wife. So why can’t she keep her eyes—or her dirty thoughts—off the ruggedly hot guy in the room next to hers?

Of course, the charming ones are always broke, and Teagan Carmichael is both ridiculously charming and inexcusably broke. Worse still, there’s some serious heat sizzling between them. But Harper has too much riding on this trip to have her head turned by Mr. Deliciously-Sexy-But-Poor. She already knows that giving in to a little temptation can turn into a whole lot of trouble...


“You stood me up.”

“I never agreed to a date. You shouldn’t make assumptions,” Harper said.

Teagan chuckled, taking careful note of how a subtle shiver rocked her body. “Caught a chill?” he teased, knowing full well it wasn’t a chill that caused her to shake. “Lucky for you, all’s well that ends well. I have an open spot at my table for you.”

Teagan released her and moved in front, daring her to turn him down.

She met his gaze with a subtle smile playing on her lips. “Maybe I’m already meeting someone.”

“You are. Me.”

“Not you,” she said with a small laugh. “Someone else.”

“Impossible.”

“Your ego is quite healthy, isn’t it?”

“So is my libido.”

Color flushed her cheeks a pretty pink. “What makes you think I’m interested in you like that?”

Teagan reached over to lightly caress the goose bumps still rioting on her arm. “Because your body tells me so.”


Dear Reader (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1),

I love witty banter. If a scene between characters can make me laugh, I know it’s a keeper. But even better than creating winning banter is a story that can make me laugh and cry—now, that’s a real success.

I confess, I did cry at the end of this story. Hot, sexy, emotional, funny...Tempted is the entire package and I hope you agree.

I won’t lie—I struggled with this book. Not because I didn’t love the story or the characters but because I wanted to do them justice. I wanted to ensure that my readers experienced the full gamut of emotion that happens between two stubborn people who are determined to have their own way but ultimately realize that sometimes when you win, you lose.

Anyway, please enjoy and if you did, tell a friend! Or drop me a line and tell me what you thought.

I love hearing from readers. Connect with me on Facebook, Twitter or drop me an email. Or you can also write me a letter at PO BOX 2210, Oakdale, CA 95361.

Kimberly


Tempted

Kimberly Van Meter






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KIMBERLY VAN METER wrote her first book at sixteen and finally achieved publication in December 2006. She writes for the Harlequin Superromance, Blaze and Romantic Suspense lines. She and her husband of seventeen years have three children, three cats, and always a houseful of friends, family and fun.


To all those brave souls who open their hearts to the most wonderful and terrifying adventures one can have in life...I wish you the courage to try and the strength to hold on.

“Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.”

—E. E. Cummings


Contents

Cover (#u86638a6c-191c-5b09-bc2f-f5181a5f0f16)

Back Cover Text (#ubb89aa09-37a9-5cc3-91d1-a39c9a16864c)

Introduction (#udd6ab081-1ea1-56d4-aea9-bfd61a574010)

Dear Reader (#uc508577c-7346-5311-814b-a856eed11715)

Title Page (#uf7b6a04e-1fda-56bf-a061-65b564712c19)

About the Author (#u22ebae51-165d-52a4-8b75-926676bf264f)

Dedication (#uf5500ef3-9b4e-588e-ac28-729fef06971f)

Chapter 1 (#u23666f2c-a4c3-5856-aa0f-69944a826e04)

Chapter 2 (#ucba0782d-ec72-5db8-963a-cabd0dc81dba)

Chapter 3 (#u8b0a6b63-3dc1-58e0-ac4f-21927bb02750)

Chapter 4 (#ucadbc7ef-a0c5-5403-bf8c-26ad3220ef98)

Chapter 5 (#ubee4f042-7374-5b44-8cef-5098dfb01c37)

Chapter 6 (#u714608e9-bcc9-5141-939d-19a0a930bddd)

Chapter 7 (#u543a01a3-c302-58fd-8914-0154c7378e2f)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


1 (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1)

FORMER AIR FORCE pilot Teagan Carmichael didn’t do cruises.

And yet, here he was, handing his boarding pass to the attendant, about to board the Nautica cruise liner, still a little unsure as to how his brother, J.T., had convinced him this was a good idea.

Mexico of all places. Two months ago, he and his buddies were flying into South America to rescue his brother J.T. after he’d accepted a charter flight gig to Mexico that had started out simple enough, but had ended up with J.T. and his female passenger crash-landing near the Guatemalan border.

They’d ended up in Sao Paulo, and somehow, by the grace of God, they’d made it out alive with all fingers and toes still intact, but Teagan was fairly certain luck had been a factor.

Maybe their guardian angels had cashed in some chips, because there were times Teagan had been fairly certain their goose was cooked.

Against all odds, they’d managed to not only escape, but to come out on top, which was the biggest surprise of all.

J.T. had made a lot of boneheaded decisions, but hiring on with Dr. Hope Larsen had been an unexpected blessing in several different ways.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Carmichael,” the sharply dressed male attendant said as he scanned the ticket electronically. “Enjoy your stay aboard the Nautica.”

Gulls squawked a racket, screeching at one another as dirty waves lapped at the dock, the smell of brine salting the air. Los Angeles harbors weren’t known for their beauty, but then no one was flocking to LA for the beaches, either.

Teagan nodded and walked up the gangplank to board the massive liner. Like most cruise ships, it was a city on water with every amenity, every luxury.

Bright pennant flags flapped in the wind, snapping like colorful towels, signaling something festive was about to happen on this boat, but Teagan was still questioning his decision to go through with the cruise.

He probably could’ve talked his buddies Kirk Addler or Harris McGoy into taking the cruise instead, but J.T. had felt strongly about Teagan going, so he’d caved.

And thanks to the fat payment from Tessara Pharmaceuticals from J.T.’s last charter—the one that’d subsequently trashed their only plane and nearly gotten them all killed—Teagan was staying in an upgraded stateroom.

“Well, aren’t you a tall drink of water.” An older, curvy, auburn-haired goddess wearing a fancy outfit and dripping with rings, was eyeing him with open appreciation. “If you’re representing what we have to look forward to on this singles cruise, then I’m all in, sugar.”

Oh, that’s another thing. J.T. had booked him on a cruise meant for hooking up.

Like Teagan needed a relationship right now. With rebuilding Blue Yonder Charter, revamping their business plan and generally trying to start over, he didn’t have time for slap and tickle on a regular basis.

Teagan chuckled, blushing only slightly because attention from a beautiful woman, even one considered a cougar, was still flattering as hell. But he wasn’t looking for a hook-up. No matter what J.T.’s advice had been before dropping him off at the dock.

“You need to loosen up, big brother,” J.T. had said, admonishingly. “You’re wound tighter than a drum. You’d think that almost dying would’ve reminded you that life is for the living.”

“You’re giving me advice?” Teagan had joked. “Is this a sign of the coming apocalypse?”

Because, yeah, Teagan was the cool head and J.T. was the screwup.

At least, J.T. was until he’d met that saucy redhead scientist, Hope. Now his little brother was becoming responsible and thinking with his head and not his...well, you know.

And maybe Teagan had been a little bit envious of how happy J.T. was with Hope, but seeing as he wasn’t about to do anything to change his relationship status, there wasn’t much he could do about that.

The woman gave Teagan a final, bold up-down appraisal and then clucked her tongue with approval as she sashayed down the hallway to find her own room.

That was definitely a cougar sighting.

And a pretty fine one at that.

But as he found his room, his neighbor found hers and he forgot all about the cougar.

Teagan wasn’t much of a believer of insta-love but he was a big fan of insta-lust, and he’d just been hit square between the eyes with a double dose.

Long dark hair curled in lazy loops and waves to the small of her back, shapely, tan legs that went on for days and the most pert, rounded breasts that he craved to touch—all he could do was stare like an idiot.

Deep blue eyes framed by incredibly lush black lashes met his stunned gaze and she graced him with a sly smile, as if she knew good and well just how primal her effect was on men.

This was a level ten hottie and she knew it.

A tremor of excitement rocked his spine as his insides did a weird tumble and roll. To be truthful, he’d never been so knocked on his ass by a single look.

He’d been around the world and seen plenty of gorgeous, exotic women but every single one of them paled in his memory the minute he saw her.

And then she was gone.

One coy look and she disappeared behind her door.

He didn’t know her name.

Didn’t know anything about her.

But he would.

Suddenly, this cruise was the best idea ever.

He’d have to thank J.T. for forcing him to take the trip, because he’d just stared into the eyes of his destiny.

Or at the very least, his next adventure.

He was down for either.

* * *

HARPER RILEY CLOSED the door behind her, her heart dancing a flurried tippety-tap at the enigmatic stranger with the arresting eyes and magnificent build.

With all that solid muscle and those rugged good looks, he probably knew how to make a woman forget her own name.

Probably a player.

Most beautiful people were.

Not that she held that against him.

Hell, Harper played with the best of them.

But, whoa, she’d have to steer clear of that man for the duration of her trip.

This wasn’t a pleasure cruise for her.

It was work.

Her target was Stuart Buck, recently widowed, incredibly wealthy.

And very vulnerable.

Harper had plans to become the next Mrs. Stuart Buck.

She’d been tracking the older man’s activities for months. Harper knew everything that needed to be known about him.

A self-starter, Stuart was responsible for the rubber flush valve inside toilets. Not very glamorous, but mega lucrative, because everyone used toilets, right?

And while Harper didn’t love the idea of becoming Mrs. Toilet Queen, she’d probably just have to console herself by spending all that lovely toilet money.

So why was a multimillionaire hitching a ride on a commercial liner when he probably had a handful of yachts at his disposal?

Well, Stuart liked to think of himself as an everyman’s man. As in, he liked to surround himself with people who were still hungry, made him think he was still one of them.

Even though he wasn’t.

But Harper didn’t begrudge the old man his illusions. Everyone had something they liked to hold on to.

The plan was a relatively straightforward, if not classic, old-school seduction.

Stuart was still mourning his wife, but her death wasn’t so fresh that Stuart would find Harper’s interest offensive.

In Harper’s experience, men were simple creatures. At their core, they needed to be wanted, they needed someone to coo and aww over their accomplishments and laugh at their jokes.

A man was putty in a woman’s hands if she knew how to work those basic triggers.

And Harper had honed her skills to a knife point.

Tonight was the mixer dinner where she would set the plan in motion.

Everything was planned down to the smile. Seduction was about more than just dressing the part—it was making a calculated decision to steer conversations, reacting to body language and adjusting accordingly.

She mentally went over her game plan, ticking off items on her to-do list as she usually did before going after her target.

But this time, her neighbor kept interrupting her thoughts.

Harper frowned when she couldn’t quite stay on task.

The warning tingle in the pit of her belly should’ve been enough to shut down any meandering thoughts about the alluring stranger, but there was something about that man—jeez, she’d only caught a glimpse—that wouldn’t let loose.

And it was seriously messing with her game day ritual.

He was obviously single and ready to mingle.

Even though he was hot as hell and probably a fun time in the sack, Harper wouldn’t indulge.

A pretty face was a lie she couldn’t afford.

Her mother might not have absorbed the lesson in time but Harper sure as hell had—pretty mouths spewed convenient lies.

And now her mother was in a care facility without a cent to her name, because someone had fleeced her out of her savings with promises he’d never intended to keep.

Harper shook off the distasteful memories and hardened herself to the budding attraction that’d had the gall to spring up uninvited within her.

In another life, Harper could definitely see herself pressed up against all that lovely man-meat, but not today.

One glance and she could already tell he wasn’t worth her time.

He had that blue-collar ruggedness about him. Wind-chapped cheeks meant he worked outside in some capacity, or spent a lot of time skiing or sailing, but his hands were big and strong as if he was accustomed to hard work.

The man could probably bend her into a pretzel, but he couldn’t keep her in riches.

So, sorry, Mr. Cutie-pie, not going to happen.

Harper sighed. Oh, well. Time to focus on Mr. Buck.

Thin, bearded and balding Mr. Buck.

Just think of all that wonderful money.


2 (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1)

TEAGAN CLOSED THE door to his stateroom, still thinking about the hottie with the body next door.

A cursory glance around the room confirmed it was nice—luxurious even—but he was more interested in getting to know why a woman like her was on a singles cruise, much less single.

Yeah, because let’s face it...you get a girl like that...you lock that shit down tight.

Not that he was a caveman or anything, but a woman with smoking curves like hers could turn any levelheaded man into a ground-pounding, chest-thumping gorilla.

Maybe J.T. had booked him on a...swingers cruise or something. Like that trip in Jamaica where all the people in a certain lifestyle flocked to get their groove on.

J.T. had mentioned he wanted Teagan to “whoop it up,” whatever that meant. And knowing J.T., that could mean virtually anything.

Plus J.T. would laugh his balls off sending Teagan on a swingers cruise without his knowledge.

A laugh a minute, little brother.

God, he hoped not.

He wasn’t the sharing type.

And J.T. knew that.

Okay, let’s go out on a limb and assume that J.T. is not that big of an asshole—particularly to the brother who’d saved his ass in Mexico—and safely assume that this cruise is exactly as it was booked.

Singles looking to mingle.

Ugh. He cringed at the very idea of walking around, acting like a horny dog, sniffing after eligible ladies in the hopes of a hook-up.

“J.T., you’re an ass,” he muttered, glancing around the room, wondering what his next step was. Was he supposed to do something? Go somewhere?

Was there an itinerary?

Teagan checked the nightstand, the bathroom and the small coffee table but found nothing to tell him what was in store for the next week. He sure as hell didn’t want to sit around twiddling his thumbs in his room.

It was bad enough he was going to be floating around without any work to keep him busy, but the threat of completely idle time gave him the willies.

His gaze traveled to the opposite wall, knowing Little Miss Hot Stuff was on the other side.

Either fate had one damn fine sense of humor or was a mean bitch, because that woman was going to be hard to put out of his mind.

Teagan didn’t know anything about her aside from the fact that he wanted to know her better.

But there was something cheesy about knocking on his neighbor’s door with such an obvious pickup line, right?

Well, she did board a singles cruise, so that implied she was interested in meeting up with people, he reasoned.

Or maybe she’d been roped into this gig, same as Teagan, and just wanted to get through it.

Guess there was only one way to find out.

Hell, there was no harm in being friendly.

Teagan smoothed his hair and then exited his room to knock on his neighbor’s door.

She opened it with a subtle frown until she saw him. “Yes?” A slow quizzical smile followed, and he started stuttering like a jackass who’d never been around a female in his life.

“Uh, so here’s the thing... I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. And...forgive me if I sound like a perv, but...is this by any chance a swingers cruise?”

Way to lead with something nonthreatening, dude.

Her smile faltered but she didn’t slam the door in his face—good sign—then answered, “No, it’s for singles. Why? Were you looking for a swingers cruise?”

“No, not all!” Teagan smiled with relief. “Thank God. I’m not into that swapping business. I mean, no judgment for those who are, but I’m not the type who enjoys sharing.”

“Good to know,” she said, mildly amused. “Was there anything else...?”

Well, he was batting a thousand. Had he completely forgotten how to flirt?

Apparently.

The rust was practically grinding his gears. At one time, he’d been damn near the cat’s meow. Now he couldn’t even make simple conversation. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

Time for some damage control.

“My brother booked this cruise for me and I’m...sort of flying blind,” he said by way of apology.

A spark of reluctant interest lit up her blue eyes. “Does your brother always book your vacations?”

“Hell no. I don’t usually have time to vacation, but even if I did, I wouldn’t let J.T. take on that job. He and I have different ideas of what constitutes fun.”

She crossed her arms lightly as if amused. “So why did your brother book you on a singles cruise?”

“It’s not a story you want to hear standing in a hallway. It’s more of an over-dinner conversation,” he said with a grin. “Maybe with some wine, good food, excellent company.”

“Oh, is that so?” she said, one eyebrow lifting. “And what makes it worth all that?”

Teagan held up three fingers then said, “Three words—plane crash, corporate intrigue and danger.”

“I see math is not your strong suit.”

“I don’t know... I can count quite clearly how you plus me equals a cozy dinner for two. How about it? I know you want to hear this story.”

She laughed. “No doubt you’re the hero in this tale.”

“I don’t mean to brag, but I did my part.”

“Let me guess, you’re a covert operative in the CIA and you were on a super secret international mission,” she teased, clearly not buying an ounce of his story. The irony was that his story was absolutely true. Although, he wasn’t supposed to talk about it. Confidentiality and all that.

“Sorry to disappoint, but not the CIA,” Teagan said with a half grin. “Just a private pilot with a charter who got lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it.”

“Where’d you learn to fly?”

“The US Air Force.”

“Hmm.”

Usually that sentence prompted more interest. He wasn’t one to use his service to open doors or drop panties, but he was a bit surprised by her lack of reaction. “Got bad history with a flyboy?” Teagan asked.

“No. Not at all. I just don’t like people lying about time in the service. Some things should be sacred.”

Teagan lost his smile. She thought he was lying? That was a new one. He straightened, quick to set her mind at ease, because it didn’t sit right to be accused of doing something he abhorred. “You’re right,” he agreed, seeming to surprise her with his firm tone. “People who lie about serving their country are the lowest scum and I can assure you, there is no stolen valor here. I served my country willingly, as did my brother. Now we own a private charter plane business here in Los Angeles.”

“What is your name?”

“Teagan Carmichael. And yours?”

Again that enigmatic smile but no reciprocal answer.

“Not gonna share?” he asked, drinking in every bit of her. She was so pretty, looking at her nearly hurt his eyes. There was something so untouchable about her, like a queen gracing her people with a glance and a subtle wave. “Seems kinda the point of this trip, right? Getting to know people?”

At that, she answered, “Harper Riley,” and he nearly crowed with happiness. He had a name!

“Nice to meet you, Harper.”

“Likewise, Teagan.”

They were off to a decent start.

“So...about that dinner...”

But Harper wasn’t as charmed as Teagan had thought because she flat out turned him down.

And then she closed the door firmly in his face.

Well, hell, that was not a good sign at all.

* * *

HARPER CLOSED THE door with a frown.

Why were the charming ones always broke as hell?

His idea of a good time probably included a monster truck rally and convenience store hot dogs.

Definitely not to her standard.

But, he was certainly nice to look at.

Damn, when was the last time she got to choose based on chemistry?

Boohoo, life’s rough. Stop crying and start focusing.

Stuart Buck was the real prize.

Vulnerable, looking for someone to share his life with and hopefully old-fashioned when it came to prenups—as in he didn’t believe in them.

Harper pulled her phone from her purse to refresh her mind with all the research she had archived on the old billionaire.

His wife, Rachel, had been the quintessential silent partner, standing behind her man as he’d built his empire, smiling with adoration at the man who’d revolutionized the toilet industry.

Props to you, Rachel, Harper thought with derision. I could never do that.

Harper was more about the end game than the building game.

And Stuart was nicely set up.

He owned property in the Hamptons, a Manhattan apartment, a log cabin in Vail and, of course, his palatial mansion on Nob Hill in San Francisco, as well as his well-appointed beach house in Santa Barbara.

An excited tingle tickled her stomach. She loved the thrill of the hunt, especially when the prize was fat and juicy like Stuart.

Harper would do her best to help Stuart move on from the death of Perfect Wifey Number 1.

Because life was for the living.

And it wasn’t as if his wife was going to spend his millions.

A small smile found her, but, in spite of her plans to go over her research, Harper’s thoughts drifted to her cute neighbor.

She certainly knew that type. Teagan Carmichael was the kind of man her mother would’ve tripped all over herself to land. But even if Anna Riley had never learned, Harper had gotten the message loud and clear.

Charming men were the first to bail when things got tough—or when they’d taken everything there was to take.

Poor Mom. In love with being in love. Eternally hopeful that the next guy was the one.

Harper would watch as men walked in and out of Anna’s life, leaving her with less and less.

If a man had bad credit, was nearly homeless, with a string of abandoned baby mamas, but could charm her with a seemingly devoted smile, Anna was all in.

But if Anna was continually blinded by love, Harper had become jaded by it.

Especially after Rex Harrington. Or whatever his name truly was.

Just the thought of Rex and what he’d done to her mother—and by proxy, her—made Harper want to throw something.

So, it didn’t matter that Teagan was the kind of man who took her breath away. His cute face and tight behind weren’t going to pay her bills.

Tonight was the dinner and dance mixer. She’d already arranged to be seated at Stuart’s table. No doubt she’d have to fend off her share of competition, but this wasn’t her first rodeo.

She pulled up Stuart’s picture. Not bad looking. Bald but not fat—that was a plus.

Her last target had been as jolly as Santa Claus in the waistband, but not quite as pleasant in his demeanor.

She tried not to remember the times when his slobbery kisses had nearly made her retch.

Ulysses Prawner had been the worst.

A millionaire, but barely so, he’d liked to spend his money on women and toys. Harper had helped him in his endeavors.

Only, Ulysses hadn’t known when to stop. His investments couldn’t keep up with his spending and before long he’d come to Harper with a sob story.

“Baby,” he’d implored as she’d packed her bags. “I’m just in a slump. Things will get better. They always do. Don’t go.”

Harper had already been casing the next target and was eager to move on. Actually, she’d been relieved to find a reason to bail. “Ulysses, let’s not make this uncomfortable. What we had has run its course.”

“But I love you, baby,” he’d cried, grasping for her hands.

She’d tried to find an ounce of compassion for the man, but the well had run dry.

Pulling her hands free, she’d cast him a look filled with pity and walked out the door.

Not empty-handed, of course.

Every gift, every bit of cash that flowed her way had gone into a secret account, as did all her investments.

Someday she’d have enough to be solvent on her own. No more chasing after wealthy old pricks, swallowing her dignity and pride to cater to their every whim.

Someday.

That’s why Stuart Buck was so important.

That old man was going to put a ring on her finger—without the protection of a prenup.

Then, when he died, all of his assets would go to Harper.

No more scouring the society pages, frequenting country clubs and pretending to be someone she wasn’t just to make a dollar.

No more stressing about how she was going to pay her mother’s care bill.

The woman was as dependent on Harper as a child was on its parent.

Irony at its finest.

Even as much as Harper was focused on the big picture, there were times when a forlorn sadness intruded on her thoughts.

She’d stopped feeling guilty a long time ago, but now and then, she wished she had the luxury of enjoying a normal relationship.

Thankfully, that kind of wistful thinking didn’t happen often, but seeing someone like Teagan was always good for a little melancholy.

The fact was, she didn’t want to rely on anyone but herself for her well-being. In this world, either you were on the bottom or the top. And she made sure she was never on the bottom.

Harper jerked a short breath in and refocused. “Stuart, you sweet, old man. You are never going to know what hit you.”

Harper slipped her phone back into her purse and disappeared into her bathroom to get ready.

The stage was set and the players ready.

Time for the performance.


3 (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1)

TEAGAN SURVEYED THE resplendent lounge, with burgundy walls and gold filigree ornamentation spilling out over every surface, and wondered if he’d somehow stepped into a time warp.

Lounge acts always reminded him of cheesy pickup lines and boozed-out singers looking for some last-ditch effort to rekindle their dying career.

In other words, Teagan had never really considered a lounge a great place to meet people he wanted to hang with.

But as his gaze perused the room, he locked on to the one person who’d made this trip remotely interesting.

Harper.

Long dark hair curled in lazy waves down her open-back black dress, the short hem teasing the toned length of her legs perched on sassy heels. Everything about her was elegant and refined, yet pulsed with a raw sensuality that spoke his language.

For him, everyone else faded away, even the flock of men surrounding her, all vying for a smile from the beauty.

Harper knew the power she held over men. Teagan could see it in the way she played the coy and delicate lady for the decidedly older men salivating around her.

He continued to watch with interest, finding the scene telling.

Teagan knew women of all kinds.

Being a former flyboy, his education on women had taught him that they could rule the world if they wanted.

They held the power in their nimble fingers to twist men in pretzels, but only a small percentage actually knew how to wield that power with any kind of efficiency.

But watching Harper, it was easy to see that the woman knew exactly what she was doing.

Good sense told him to walk away.

Find a different lady to spend his week with—someone less complicated.

Less dangerous.

But he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

A slow burn of a smile spread on his lips. Harper was a challenge that fired him up in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

But if he remembered the rules of this game correctly, a direct approach would end in failure.

Harper was all about strategy, cunning.

So he had to respond in kind.

Well, J.T. had wanted him to cut loose, have fun.

What better fun could there be than trying to catch a woman intent on running away?

Hell, it was a bad idea—practically reeking of disaster—but he was in.

All in.

Tonight’s event was a standard meet and greet, with a single-and-ready-to-mingle vibe. Polite laughter and the buzz of conversation floated around the room. There were plenty of fish in this fishbowl, that was for certain.

Once his buddy Kirk Addler had joked that Teagan ought to put himself on Tinder. Teagan hadn’t paid attention to the newest apps and whatnot that were out there, so he’d reluctantly checked it out, seeing as Kirk seemed keen on it.

After a few appalling swipes, Teagan was a definite no.

And Kirk deserved a kick in the ass.

And more than likely, an STD check.

Swipe right, swipe left...no thanks.

If that was the dating in the new age, he’d happily remain single.

Ignoring the urge to insert himself into her circle of admirers, Teagan made a deliberate detour to the bar but managed to make brief eye contact with the brunette hottie. However, he made sure he was the one to break contact first before continuing on, as if she were merely a blip on his ever-roving radar.

Chicks hated to be overlooked.

Especially ones who knew they were the hottest in the room.

A smartly dressed bartender politely attended to his needs and, after receiving his beer, he tipped the man well.

Teagan didn’t have to wait long before his bait caught a nibble.

But not by the right fish.

Cougar Lady was hot on his trail, eyes flashing and tail twitching. “There you are again,” she said, sliding into the seat beside him at the bar. This time she extended her hand in a seductive introduction. “Vanessa Vermuelen. And you are? Aside from tall, delicious and ready-to-eat?”

“Teagan Carmichael,” he answered, appreciating the view of her bountiful cleavage practically inviting him to lay his head on it. He flagged the bartender, and because Teagan had tipped well, the bartender was eager to serve. “My lady friend here is in need of a drink.”

“Whiskey sour,” she said with a throaty laugh that was deep and sexy. Then she gently tugged at the bartender’s sleeve and said with a wink, “And don’t go light on the whiskey, sweet thing.”

The bartender grinned and ducked his head in a nod. “You got it.”

Vanessa turned to Teagan. “The drinks are included in your package but they tend to skimp on the good stuff. I always like to let the bartender know that I like a stiff...drink.”

If Teagan hadn’t been clued in already, he would’ve caught the message loud and clear this time—he was on her meal plan.

“So tell me, Teagan... What are you here for?” she asked, going for the direct approach. “A little fun, something deeper? Because I’m open to either. I’m footloose and fancy-free and I intend to live it up.”

Teagan couldn’t help but smile at the engaging woman, even if he didn’t want to sleep with her. She had a way about her that was infectious, and he liked her company.

“I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” he answered. “My brother booked this cruise and kinda forced me to go.”

“Sounds like a fun brother,” she said, sipping her drink. “So, not married? Divorced? Widowed? What’s your story?”

“Absolutely single. Never been married. You?”

Vanessa released a breath in dramatic style and readjusted her ample cleavage. “Was married to a real son of a bitch but he did me a solid and died. His insurance payout was about the only decent thing he ever did in his life.”

“That bad, huh?”

“He wasn’t winning any humanitarian awards,” Vanessa drawled with derision, then tacked on, “Well, I stayed with the bastard too long so that’s my fault, but I was raised that you didn’t quit. So I stayed. Wasted the best parts of my life, too. But that’s over, honey. I’m here to tear things up, starting with you, sugar pot.” She squeezed his thigh, and he jumped. Her eyes lit up as she grinned. “You are a jumpy thing. All that young energy, stamina...mmm...just what I am looking for.”

Teagan didn’t want to hurt the older lady’s feelings, but he didn’t want to lead her on, either. “Vanessa, you are a smoking-hot woman, no doubt. Some man is going to be counting his lucky stars with you on his arm but I’m not sure I’m ready to take things to that level.”

Vanessa’s smile was strained around the edges but she nodded. “Sure, no problem. You’re old-fashioned. I like that. Most times men are just eager to drop their drawers if the invitation is bold enough.”

“When did your husband die?” he asked.

She exhaled before taking another drink. “Two years ago. Heart attack. Dropped dead in the middle of a steak dinner. Ruined everyone’s appetite, that’s for sure. I haven’t been back to that restaurant since.”

Even though Vanessa implied she was glad to be widowed, Teagan sensed lingering grief. Some things were hard to quit, especially if it was something like a long-term relationship.

“So, I do these cruises for fun, to pass the time. Meet people.”

“How many cruises have you done?” he asked.

“This is my fourth.”

Four singles cruises? Basically, two a year for the past two years since her husband died. That admission told a story.

“What was your husband’s name?”

She cast him an uncertain look as if surprised he was asking, then answered, “Dale. We were high school sweethearts.”

Vanessa blinked rapidly and Teagan realized she was fighting tears. Fluttering her hands to wipe away any moisture before it left a track down her heavily made-up face, she rose and excused herself before Teagan could say anything.

Maybe Dale hadn’t been as rotten as Vanessa liked to say.

Sometimes being angry was easier than accepting the pain of true grief.

So far this meet and greet was not going well.

Maybe he could find another woman and send her off in tears.

He motioned for the bartender. “Keep ’em coming.”

* * *

HARPER KNEW THE minute Teagan entered the room. It was as if her eyes were set to track and her aim was unerring.

He looked good.

Damn good.

That self-assured swagger as he surveyed the room, the way a smile flirted with his mouth...he was a bad distraction.

She knew she ought to flirt with the cluster of men corralling her, but seeing as Stuart was a no-show, the idea of wasting time with those pitiful fools was more than she could stomach.

The smart thing would be to return to her room, rest up for tomorrow.

But she wasn’t tired.

In fact, she was practically brimming with restless energy and if she went to her room right now, she’d end up pacing a hole in her tiny stateroom.

A drink would take the edge off.

Don’t do it. Don’t you dare walk over to him.

Ignoring the voice of reason, she politely extricated herself from the cluster and made her way toward Teagan.

She slid into the chair that’d been occupied by the older woman and smiled at the bartender. “Gin and tonic,” she murmured, then turned to Teagan who looked pretty relaxed.

“What happened to your lady friend?” she asked with mild interest. “She seemed into you until she hurried off. Seems your game is a little off. Would you like some pointers?”

He chuckled—the sound tickling her vertebrae like fingers dancing down her spine—and said, “Pointers from you? Hmm...not sure.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’m not really a catch-and-release kind of guy.”

Heat crawled into Harper’s cheeks, caught off guard by how easily Teagan seemed to laser in on her strategy, but she knew it was impossible for him to know. Whatever she was keying in on was her own paranoia. Harper graced Teagan with a small smile. “Why hold on to one, when there are so many to choose from?”

Teagan nodded as if ceding her point until he countered, saying, “Why continue to draw in fish you have no intention of keeping?”

“The thrill of the chase?” she suggested coyly as the bartended pushed her drink toward her. She rewarded him with a blinding smile and a modest tip.

“I don’t see you chasing anyone,” he pointed out, watching as she lifted the glass to her lips. “I see it the other way around. But something tells me, that’s your game.”

It was true. Harper rarely chased—she snared.

“Okay, Mr. Observant...what else do you see?”

The minute she threw the question out there, she knew it was a mistake. Teagan was sharp. There was something about him that cut through the haze and pushed away her carefully constructed web. He wasn’t in a rush to fall all over her and that wasn’t something she was accustomed to, either.

Teagan grinned, amused at her rash response. “You sure you want me to answer that?”

Actually, go ahead and forget I said it.

She graced him with a patronizing smile. “Darling, I can’t wait to hear what you think you see after knowing me for a total of fifteen minutes.”

Teagan swiveled on his chair to face her directly. She sucked in a tight breath as her heart rate quickened, but she held her smile. To her surprise, he reached for her hand and turned it over to observe her palm.

Was he psychic or something? Her smile turned wary. “What are you doing?”

“Shh...”

He lightly traced the faint lines in her palm, sending shivers rioting up her forearm.

“Am I going to be famous?” she teased, if only to quell the racing of her pulse at his touch. “Is this your schtick? Hey, baby, let me tell you your future?”

He graced her with a charming smile and released her hand.

“Well?”

Good God, she could still feel the heat of his fingertips sliding across her skin. Harper absently rubbed at her palm to stop the sensation.

“You, Harper Riley, are a man-eater.”

“And what makes you say that?” she asked, trying to play off his observation as if humoring him.

“Because your hands are soft as a baby’s behind, which means you rarely lift a finger to do much work. Your manicure is perfect, not a single hangnail in sight. Your hair is gorgeous, which means you take the time to have it styled regularly, and your body... Well, you and I both know your body is toned, taut and flawless, which tells me you take care of yourself religiously. Why else would a woman put so much effort into being perfect? Unless she was on the hunt. We men may be stupid but some clichés are true.”

Harper scoffed at his assessment. “Or it could mean I have good genes and I like to work out because it feels good. Besides, who said I was perfect?”

“I’m not finished,” he said, gesturing to her heels. “Expensive designer shoes, a dress that fits like it was made for you, diamond earrings and a Louis Vuitton bag that probably cost more than a small car. Now tell me you’re not on the prowl.”

He was not only right, he was shockingly eagle-eyed for a man.

Was he gay? “How do you know anything about women’s clothing?” she asked. “Do you have a thing for expensive bags and shoes?”

He leaned in, his voice tickling her ear. “I’ve had a few girlfriends with expensive tastes...and I pay attention.”

Danger, Harper, a voice whispered.

The last thing she needed was a man who knew how to pick up on subtle cues. What if he caught on to her plan with Stuart?

She couldn’t afford to mess around. Harper needed that payday.

But their gazes locked as if tethered. Her will to cut the contact faltered in the pull of those gorgeous eyes. The man had won the genetic lottery. Handsome without being pretty, rugged without being ill-mannered. Yes, Teagan was dangerous, indeed.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” she announced, rising from her seat.

“You haven’t finished your drink.”

Finally breaking their gaze, Harper said, “I think I’ve had enough. Good night, Mr. Carmichael.”

And then, with the effort it took to walk calmly from the room, Harper thought her heart might explode from her chest.

Only when she was safely in her room did she release the shaky breath caught in her lungs.

Teagan was everything she didn’t want—so why had it been so hard to ignore him?


4 (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1)

THAT WENT SMASHINGLY TERRIBLE, he mused with a wry twist of his lips.

Not only had he chased away two women, he was left with the crazy impulse to follow Harper to her room like a damn stalker.

Clearly she wasn’t interested, right?

No, Teagan didn’t buy that act. Harper was into him, but for some reason she didn’t want to be.

He didn’t like drama or baggage. Hell, he had enough of his own to bother with without dragging someone else’s aboard.

So if Harper wanted to run, he wasn’t about to chase her.

Sounded good in theory.

Sounded damn good.

Except, he was already formulating what he might say to her when he showed up at her door.

Maybe words were the problem. Maybe he ought to just kiss her senseless.

Harper looked as if she needed a little something in her life to muss up that perfectly styled hair.

She was gorgeous, no doubt about that, but he wanted to see her, no makeup, bed head, and in shorts and a T-shirt.

Preferably over breakfast.

That’s the liquor talking, bud. Slow your roll.

Probably true.

He had just enough alcohol in his system to lower his inhibitions, but this whole thing was outside of his comfort zone.

Remember the good old days when you just hooked up with someone at the bar and if things worked out you started the dialogue?

Now he was on a singles cruise. If that didn’t feel like geriatric dating, he didn’t know what did.

He didn’t have the same kind of luck as J.T., meeting the love of his life when she walked into the hangar to hire him.

Forget the part where she almost got them killed. Hey, no one’s perfect.

And maybe if he wasn’t in a bit of a drought, he wouldn’t be fixating on Harper.

Yeah, that was it. It was the drought’s fault.

For the past year and a half, his life had been consumed by Blue Yonder. Trying to keep the business afloat had been harder than either he or J.T. had anticipated.

You know it’s bad when you have to choose between buying toilet paper or food because if you buy both, bills weren’t going to get paid.

Hell, he’d even considered reenlisting.

Thankfully, J.T. had talked him out of that temporary insanity. He had no interest in the soldier life anymore. That was a young man’s game.

And although J.T. liked to remind him that they were neither old nor unfit for duty, both Teagan and J.T. had become accustomed to the luxuries of civilian life.

So, about that drought.

Teagan tried to think of the last time he’d dated.

It took a minute—probably longer than it should have—but his last date had been disappointing. Not because she hadn’t been hot, not because she hadn’t had a great personality, just because his mind had been elsewhere.

Owning your own business had a tendency to suck the energy from every possible outlet.

Including his mojo.

The woman, Clara, had been more than willing to take it to the next level. But his conscience stopped him when things became heated.

Although in hindsight, telling a woman you have to go, after making out for a good solid hour, clothes nearly in a pile, was probably not the best.

But Teagan had known that if he had slept with her, it would have been worse.

Score one for a conscience; zero for his blue balls.

He ought to forget about Harper completely. The whole point of this cruise was to meet up with someone. Maybe he didn’t have to find Mrs. Right, maybe she could just be Mrs. Right Now.

He wasn’t above enjoying himself if the moment was right. But even as he scanned the room, looking for someone who might interest him for the evening, all he could think about was Harper, in her room.

Alone.

It was almost as if he didn’t have a choice. His brain wasn’t going to let anyone else upstairs. Perhaps if he went to Harper, got firmly rejected, he could get the closure he needed and move on.

Just as he was about to make good on his idea, the bar stool was occupied again, only this time, it was with one of the men who’d been clustered around Harper like a drone bee around the queen.

The man didn’t waste time and got right to it. “Hello, friend, whatcha drinking?” he asked.

Curious, Teagan answered, “Beer.”

“Ahh, down-to-earth man,” he said, after ordering a glass of wine. “Look, I’m just going to get down to brass tacks because that’s the kind of man I am, which I’m sure you can appreciate.”

Teagan couldn’t wait to see where this was going.

“You see, I’m the kind of man who sees what he wants and goes after it—no matter the obstacles. That’s how I am in business and how I am in life.”

“Good for you,” Teagan replied, tipping back his beer.

“Yeah, so I think you’ll understand what I mean when I say that I got dibs on the hot brunette.”

Teagan made a point to peer around the room as if looking for said brunette. “Can you be more specific?”

“The one who was sitting right here a few minutes ago. Hot bod, long dark hair and a rack to die for. Ring a bell?”

Teagan didn’t much like Harper being reduced to such simple attributes but what could he say? He’d been pretty much snagged by those very visual cues himself. Still...he didn’t like when this douche did it.

“I’d say it’s probably a good idea to let the lady decide who she wants to spend time with,” Teagan said, finishing his beer. “Don’t you think? I mean, she is an adult, capable of making her own decisions and something tells me, that Harper is the kind of woman who would take offense to hearing someone talk about her like you just did.”

“You gonna tattle on me?” the man joked, but Teagan wasn’t laughing. He was pretty much done with this conversation and the only thing keeping him from punching this guy’s lights out was that he didn’t want to be put in the brig. Or whatever served as a holding cell for unruly passengers. “So you’re saying you’re not going to back off?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I called dibs.”

He called dibs. Good God, give me strength.

Teagan smirked as he rose from his seat. “Well, I’m not twelve and I don’t recognize the dibs game any longer. She’s not a piece of candy, she’s a woman. If you can’t interest her squarely on your own, then that’s not my problem. Good luck with your dibs.”

Teagan pushed past the man, leaving him to burn hot coals into his back but Teagan didn’t care. The man was an asshole.

But even so, the man had served one unexpected purpose—he’d given Teagan a much-needed splash of cold water on his overheated brain.

The purpose of this trip was to loosen up and have fun, not beat down every Tom, Dick and Harry who hoped to snag the “hot brunette with the smoking body,” and if Mr. Swagger was any indication of what chasing after Harper Riley would be like, then Teagan was out.

As if the universe was listening, a sassy redhead cast a flirty smile his way and he responded in kind.

J.T. was a vocal proponent of redheads now.

And this one wasn’t bringing gun-toting maniacs in her wake.

This trip may be salvageable, after all.

* * *

HER GAME FELT OFF. With Stuart being a no-show and then Teagan getting in her head, Harper felt tilted, which wasn’t a good sign.

She needed to be on target to snag Stuart.

Harper changed into her pajamas, removed her makeup and then crawled into bed, phone in hand.

More research.

Stuart. Buck.

She stared at the most recent picture, taken at some toilet seminar where he’d been the lead speaker, and chewed her lip as she frowned.

The Toilet King.

Harper wrinkled her nose with distaste. That was a tall order, but Harper didn’t care what other people said about her as long as the checks cleared.

Louis Vuitton bag.

Chanel dress.

Louboutin heels.

Teagan had been spot-on.

And the religious workouts—Pilates, CrossFit, Zumba, yoga—anything and everything to keep her body fit and toned.

It was exhausting.

She had no social life.

Friends were a luxury she couldn’t afford.

And God only knew she never confided in her lovers about anything, because she wasn’t the person they thought she was.

She played a part, for which she accepted payment in the form of expensive gifts and luxury vacations.

But she wouldn’t be young forever.

Sooner or later, time would catch up to her and no amount of Pilates would keep her ass from succumbing to gravity.

Harper winced at the cruelty awaiting her and that fear renewed her purpose.

That’s why Stuart was so important.

This one was going to marry her.

No more playing the mistress or girlfriend with nothing legally binding.

She couldn’t live on gifts alone.

And that meant she had to be smart.

Stuart wasn’t a stupid playboy with a trust fund.

He was a successful businessman who’d been loyal to his wife until the day she died.

Stuart held old-fashioned values and believed in hard work and fair play.

Honestly, Stuart was the kind of man Harper would have liked for a father or grandfather.

Except instead of going to Stuart for fatherly advice, she was going to seduce the man.

Harper groaned when a tiny bubble of bile rose in her throat.

What was wrong with her?

Stuart was not the worst she’d slept with.

He seemed kind, generous...and incredibly old.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t the Crypt Keeper, but compared to Teagan, Stuart was a fossil.

She closed her eyes and immediately Teagan was there.

Hard muscles covering a solid, manly frame.

Sensual lips that played with a flirty smile and begged to be kissed.

How was a guy like Teagan single, anyway?

Either the women in his circles were incredibly stupid or he had some heinous defect.

Maybe he chewed his toenails.

Maybe he picked his nose and ate his boogers.

Or maybe he had some weird sexual fetish like armpit licking or he liked to dress up like a baby and be breast-fed.

Yes, keep thinking of Teagan as a deviant, a voice encouraged, otherwise, you’re going to find yourself pressed up against him before you know it.

How long had it been since Harper had enjoyed a real relationship? Been with someone because she wanted to be, not because he was a target.

Just as she started to mourn her lack of true intimacy, the specter of the past rose to slap her.

It was hard to forget her mother’s tears. The horrible sadness that clawed the personality out of Anna Riley, and Harper was sure that the subsequent drag on her immune system had eventually led to MS.

Whereas Anna had once been sweet, kind and way too trusting, time and repeated heartache had left the woman a shell.

The disease had robbed her of everything else.

Harper had been twelve when Rex had conned her mother out of their savings, leaving them with nothing but bad credit, crippling debt and no way out.

And her mom had gotten pregnant, too.

Harper blinked furiously at the unwanted tears that threatened to fall.

Some say that things happened for a reason.

Losing Rex’s baby had been a blessing in disguise but it’d taken the final toll on Anna.

Harper’s childhood had disintegrated, leaving behind nothing but cold, hard adulthood.

And she had vowed to never let a man do to her what had been done to Anna.

If anyone was going to suffer scars, it wouldn’t be Harper from that moment forward.

She stilled for a moment to gather her focus.

That’s it, remember the pain. Remember the reason men like Teagan are bad news.

Releasing a long breath, Harper felt a renewed sense of purpose and returned to her research.

Tomorrow...Stuart Buck.


5 (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1)

VANESSA THOUGHT TO escape to her room, but when she was midway, she stopped. The point of this trip was to liberate herself from her past. To stop mourning a life she didn’t miss.

Her and Dale’s relationship had been complicated, like most romantic relationships. They’d married young, and although there were too many bad times to count, there were good times, too.

A lifetime together had seamed a jagged stitch but it had bound them just the same.

One kid.

A daughter.

She’d done her due diligence as a wife and mother. Sabrina was off living her life as she should, but it’d left Vanessa alone to deal with Dale and their shortcomings.

Just as things had become unbearable, Dale had done the honorable thing and died of a heart attack.

Boom. No flash and bang. No long, drawn-out illness...just gone.

Sometimes Vanessa still thought she could smell his Old Spice cologne.

As much as Dale had been an overbearing, pigheaded jerk at times, he’d also been her best friend.

What she’d thought was going to be a grand dating adventure after he’d passed, had turned into a sad realization that she’d never truly mourned the man who’d been her constant companion for thirty years.

And somehow that young cutie at the bar had managed to activate that button that she’d been trying to hide for a year.

Her best friend, Lola, said the best way to get over a man was to get under another.

So far that had only worked temporarily.

But since Vanessa didn’t have any other advice to follow, she’d booked her first cruise, and followed it with another.

Right about now, she was thinking it all might’ve been a waste of money.

She didn’t have the right mind-set to jump into another fling.

She wanted...something more.

So was it time to change her game plan? Look for something a little less transient? Maybe admit that Lola had been completely bonkers to suggest a series of one-night stands to heal her bleeding heart?

Vanessa found herself on the upper deck gazing at the stars. The balmy air kissed her cheek as the dark waves lapped at the side of the massive ship.

Being a cougar was fun for a time but stargazing alone was really unsatisfying.

“Oh, pardon me.”

Vanessa startled at the apology and turned to see an older gentleman turning to leave her to her solitude but she stopped him. “It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind a little company.”

The man smiled and returned. “Are you certain? I don’t want to intrude.”

“Being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

He nodded. “Man is not meant to walk alone.”

“Or woman,” she added with a tiny chuckle. “Being with someone is a hard habit to break when you’ve been married for thirty years.”

“My wife passed a year ago,” he said quietly. “She was my best friend. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing without her.”

Vanessa nodded, the tears threatening to return. She laughed ruefully. “Now, don’t get the waterworks started or they’ll never stop.”

“Okay, I promise, no more talk of sad things. I’m not sure why I came out here. I thought about going to the meet and greet but changed my mind at the last minute. I couldn’t bring myself to walk into the meat market.”

“It does feel like that sometimes, doesn’t it?”

He sighed. “Things are so different from when I was young. Dating was much more civilized. But listen to me, waxing nostalgic over times gone by. That’s what old people do, right?”

The man’s self-deprecating laugh was very soothing. There was something about him that relaxed Vanessa in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Are you here to meet your soul mate?” she teased lightly.

“I doubt fate would be so kind as to grace me with two soul mates but I’m open to meeting someone I can share my life with. How about you?”

Vanessa considered her answer for a moment. “I don’t know if soul mates exist, honestly. I want to believe in the idea but I don’t know... I’m just unsure if it’s truly possible. But I’m envious of those who come close to having that.”

“You were married to a terrible man?” he inquired with a frown.

“No, not really. He was just...Dale. Hardheaded, stubborn, pigheaded, my-way-or-the-highway kind of man. But he was a good provider,” Vanessa added when it seemed all she could focus on were Dale’s negative traits. “And a good father. I guess that’s more than what some women get.”

The man regarded her with a smile in his eyes and she realized he had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. “And your wife? What was she like?”

“She was smart, stubborn, sassy...all the things I like in a woman. She didn’t take any garbage from anyone, least of all me. But she was also an amazing cook and homemaker. Anywhere with her in it was home.”

Vanessa couldn’t help but feel a little inadequate in light of the man’s superwife, but it wasn’t fair or attractive to put her insecurities on his memory so she simply smiled and murmured, “Sounds like you were a lucky man.”

“I was,” he agreed. “But it’s easy to remember the good times when someone is gone, right? It wasn’t always perfect, but it was good.”

“Yeah,” Vanessa agreed, realizing that was also true of her relationship with Dale. Grief had made her bitter and reckless, but she was finally coming out of that place. “It was good.”

“Well, I think I’ll turn in,” he announced with a charming smile. “Thank you for the company.”

Vanessa returned the smile and truly meant it when she said, “I hope you find your next soul mate.”

“I wish the same for you.”

And then he left, leaving her to the quiet, abandoned deck.

Vanessa exhaled and realized too late, she hadn’t gotten his name.

Nor had she given hers.

* * *

TEAGAN AWOKE ALONE in his bed and for that he was very grateful.

Last night’s details had gotten hazy after a few more drinks and, while he remembered dancing with a hot redhead, he didn’t quite recall getting to his room.

His head ached and his mouth tasted as if a gnome had shit in it.

Rolling to his side, he rose from the bed and guzzled a bottled water from the minifridge, then, with the final swallow, tossed back a few aspirin.

The best way he knew to work off a hangover was to sweat it out. Sliding on some workout gear and slipping on his tennis shoes, he made his way to the onboard gym.

J.T. had assured him that the gym on the ship was top-notch and that had been the saving grace. Military habits died hard and he couldn’t start his day without getting his sweat on.

Also helped to keep the love handles at bay.

Teagan walked into the gym and grinned with approval. Yes, this was going to work.

The workout facility was bigger than most gyms in the city, with state-of-the-art equipment. Everything was shiny and clean, sanitized and ready for anything.

Surprisingly, it was nearly empty.

Guess not many people enjoyed working out when they were on vacation.

He made his way to an open treadmill and realized the woman punishing herself two treadmills over was none other than Harper.

She was pounding the track at a fast clip, earbuds firmly in her ears as she zoned out. Everything about Harper was toned and tight. His initial decision to steer clear of the drama-magnet evaporated the minute he saw her again.

He loved women who didn’t play around at the gym. Harper was working up a sweat, hair tied in a messy ponytail, wearing simple, no-nonsense running shorts and sports bra.

She wasn’t there to impress—she was there to work.

God, that was a turn-on.

Instead of choosing the treadmill closest to her, Teagan climbed on the original one he’d picked, looping his towel over the handle and putting his water in the holder.

His head was still pounding but he would just have to power through. Once he was in the zone, the pain would fade.

After about ten minutes, he upped the pace and started running at a good clip. It felt great to move with the pent-up tension bunching his muscles.

Maybe afterward he’d find the masseuse and really live it up with a good rubdown.

Before too long, he realized he and Harper were running at the same tempo. Their steps were synced even though neither had timed it purposefully. Harper would be a good running partner.

J.T. always bitched that Teagan was trying to leave him behind. J.T. preferred a more leisurely pace whereas Teagan liked to move.

Apparently, Harper liked to move, too.

He glanced over at the exact time that Harper did. Their eyes locked. Sweat trickling down their faces, arms and legs pumping. She’d been running longer than him and yet her pace was as strong.

Fatigue started to eat at his stamina but he didn’t want to slow before her.

Harper dragged her gaze away and returned to her focal point, ignoring him.

But it was an act. If he could sense the energy between them, then she could, too.

Like it or not, they had something between them that wouldn’t go away.

And while Teagan had never considered running some kind of aphrodisiac, he was fighting an inappropriate arousal as they ran in tandem.

He couldn’t stop wondering how well they’d sync up if they were pressed skin against skin.

Working up a sweat in a different way.

Ah, hell. Now is not the time to get a stiff one.

As much as Teagan wanted to win this endurance race, he knew Harper had beat him.

Dialing down the pace, he caught a minute twitch of her lips and he could practically hear her crowing in victory.

Teagan smothered his laugh and, after a cooldown, moved to the weight machines.

Only this time, he purposefully selected a machine in Harper’s direct eye line.

Clearly having won that round, Harper slowed her pace and started her cooldown.

But Teagan wanted to keep her heated.

Pushing the weight bar overhead, he started his reps, knowing full well that his muscles were glistening and swelling as he worked.

He bit back his own victory crow when she couldn’t keep her focus. Her gaze kept darting to his arms and away again, as if she couldn’t quite help herself from taking a peek even though she didn’t want to.

Yeah, she could try and deny the attraction all she wanted.

Proof is in the pudding, darlin’.

Finished her workout, Harper wiped her face and stepped off the treadmill, risking a glance at Teagan one last time before she left the gym, practically running away in her haste.

He chuckled. Maybe the chase was worth the aggravation he would encounter.

Harper was fast becoming his favorite part about this trip.

Now, the question was...how did he get Harper to feel the same about him?


6 (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1)

HARPER WIPED THE sweat from her face and hurried to her room to shower.

Her pulse raced even as she closed her door and stripped.

The nerve of that guy, to insert himself into her workout.

As if all that sweaty muscle would impress her.

Like she’d never seen a well-built male.

Harper barked a short laugh as if that alone would bolster her argument with herself.

But she was still shaking.

Her fingers were trembling and her insides felt twisted into knots.

She had too much restless energy and no outlet.

Get in the shower, start the day, just as you would have if Teagan hadn’t shown up.

Sound advice.

Eventually, she’d settle down and everything would go back to normal.

Harper turned on the water and stepped into the spray, gasping when the cold water hit her skin.

Yesss! A cold shower was exactly what she needed to cool down.

Why was Teagan so... She didn’t have the word for what Teagan was.

A distraction, that’s what he was.

She closed her eyes and drifted into the spray, letting the water pelt some sense into her head.

But Teagan was right there in her thoughts, refusing to leave.

That smile, that dimple. What was a grown-ass adult doing with a dimple in his cheek, anyway?

Dimples were for boy bands and babies.

Except there was nothing boyish about Teagan.

She groaned. All that hard, firm flesh...her fingers itched to touch.

Stop it.

Just stop.

She was tangled in knots, her thoughts couldn’t travel a straight line. It was the backup of sexual energy that had nowhere to go.

Harper looked at the showerhead and a thought came to her.

It’d been a fleeting spark of a thought but once it caught, a fire followed.

Leaning against the wall, she placed her foot on the tiny ledge that masqueraded as a seat and brought down the showerhead from its cradle. The water pressure was strong enough but not too strong.

Dare she say, just right?

Only one way to find out.

Closing her eyes, Harper brought the showerhead to her aching sex, nestling the pulsating jets against the swollen and ready nub between her folds.

Immediate pleasure flushed through her body as awareness flooded her senses. Harper gasped as she adjusted position, allowing for a better pulse, and squeezed her eyes shut when the violent threat of an immediate orgasm nearly stole the strength from her legs.

She was so close. Tantalizing close.

But she didn’t want to come just yet.

Harper wanted to savor the sweetness a little bit more.

Teagan.

His name floated from her thoughts and escaped through her parted lips as the pleasure mounted.

She ground the pulsing jets against her harder, relishing the pressure as her body began to shake.

Her thoughts were unruly, going unerringly straight to Teagan. Imagining what it would feel like to be pressed against him, his tongue inside her mouth, demanding everything from her, pushing her ever closer to that beautiful shattering moment.

Oh, God. She gasped, her free hand gripping the side of the shower as her knees wobbled.

Teagan...yesss!

Harper came hard. So hard that her toes curled into tight buds as her muscles clenched so violently that she might never wear heels again.

But it was worth it.

Dropping the showerhead from nerveless fingers, she sank to the floor, breathing hard.

The spray swung wildly and smacked her in the face, sending a wash of water straight up her nose as she struggled to get it under control.

Coughing, she rose on unsteady feet and replaced the showerhead in its cradle.

She’d made herself stupid with that orgasm.

Just thinking about Teagan had made her come.

So what would happen if she actually found herself skin to skin with the gorgeous man?

She might just spontaneously combust.

Harper chuckled weakly at her own joke and exhaled a long breath.

Well, at least she was relaxed now.

She eyed the showerhead as if it were a conspirator and said, “This is between me and you. No one else needs to know. Got it?”

Of course, the showerhead said nothing.

But somehow Harper felt better just saying the words out loud if only to pound the sentiment home to her stubborn subconscious.

She didn’t want Teagan.

She wanted...what was his name? Oh, that’s right, Teagan...no!

Stuart.

Stuart Money Bucks.

Think of those lovely millions and all the lovely ways you are going to spend it, she reminded herself, lathering up the body wash. So what if Stuart was old enough to be her grandfather and Teagan looked like sex on a stick. Money was the great equalizer.

That’s all she needed to remember.

* * *

THE ITINERARY FOR today was relaxed. A full day at sea as the Nautica sliced through the waters toward Mexico. There were a number of activities on the schedule if you were so inclined but mostly it was about relaxation and fun.

There were casinos and restaurants, spas, shopping and more food.

So much food! If Teagan came back with love handles, despite punishing himself at the gym, J.T. would never let him live it down.

His cell rang and he saw—speak of the devil—J.T. was calling.

“Hey,” Teagan answered. “You know this is going to cost me an arm and a leg.”

“I told you to get the international plan but you didn’t want to spring for the temporary cost. That’s on you.”

“I didn’t think I was going to get a check-up call from my little brother,” he returned drily. “What’s up?”

“Just wondering how the trip is going. You know, seeing if my money was well spent.”

“Next time you want to blow money, just give me the cash.”

“That good, huh?”

“It’s not bad, just not really my scene.”

“Teagan, you’ve been out of the scene so long I doubt you’d remember what your scene looks like,” J.T. joked. Teagan had to admit his little brother was right, but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it out loud. “Look, you’re being a good sport about it, so have some fun. Be a tourist. Buy funny hats and drink too many margaritas. Make some memories you can regret later. Every old man needs some questionable life choices to reminisce about in the old folks home, so get to it.”

“I can always borrow a few of yours,” Teagan reminded his brother. “I think you made enough bad choices to last us both a lifetime.”

“Hey, not all bad choices turn out to be bad in the end. We’re getting a new plane and revitalizing our business from my last bad decision and I happen to sleep next to the most beautiful woman in the world because of it. So, in the end, my choice wasn’t bad at all.”

“You’re burning dollars with your philosophical bullshit,” Teagan said, rolling his eyes. “Was there anything else you needed to tell me? Any news on the plane delivery?”

“Yeah, been pushed back a few weeks. So really there’s nothing stopping you from letting your hair down and going crazy. I got things here.”

Teagan grunted an answer and said his goodbye. Then he turned his phone off. He didn’t want any more calls from his little brother.

Knowing J.T., the little shit was probably purposefully calling him just to jack up the phone bill. Brothers were funny that way.

Teagan knew he could trust J.T. to hold down the fort, but it wasn’t exactly in his nature to hand over the keys to the castle while he rode off into the sunset for a while.

That’d always been J.T.’s MO.

But maybe J.T. had a small point.

Hell, the money was spent already.

Maybe he ought to go buck wild and just whoop it up.

Maybe he ought to make it his mission to catch the lovely Harper Riley.

An instant smile threatened even as he thought of her.

Yeah, that could make the trip bearable.

Teagan spent his adult life making sure that J.T. stayed out of trouble. Maybe it was his turn to do something reckless.

Harper was playing it cool.

Guess it was time to turn up the heat.

Oh, Harper, you’re about to experience a little Carmichael charm.

He gave the mirror a cheesy grin and wagged his eyebrows.

Okay, so he was a little rusty.

Let’s start with the basics.

Teagan wrapped the towel around his midsection and flexed, popping out the muscles in his abs and pecs.

Respectable, he noted with pride.

Damn respectable.

He flexed a little more, some poses nonchalant, others obvious.

Then, because all men were essentially kids at heart, he whipped off his towel and swiveled his hips so that his cock started to sway.

Ding dong, baby.

He did that a few times until it started to become painful.

Okay, that’s enough, his inner adult chastised and he returned the towel to his hips.

He knew Harper was attracted to him physically, but she resisted him anyway. So it had to be a mental game.

He had to interest Harper on a different level if he wanted her guard to come down.

So it was time to figure out just what made Harper tick.

Time for a little recon.


7 (#u09b05772-6b88-5bd3-a31e-7c25db34b4c1)

HARPER SMOOTHED HER hair and pulled it off to the side so the dark curls draped over her shoulder, then placed her wide-brimmed hat on her head. A final look in the mirror confirmed she looked casually well put together, yet refined at the same time. Stuart wasn’t going to be wowed by a woman who seemed classless. If Harper wanted a ring on her finger, she had to play things right.

Exiting her room, she accidentally bit her tongue as Teagan’s door opened and there he was in all his muscled, hot-bodied glory.

Of all the terrible timing.

And wearing a shirt that molded to his biceps as if it was painted on. Like anyone needed to see that!

Well, she didn’t.

She had no interest whatsoever in running her tongue down that ridged stomach to find what lay at the end of his happy trail.

Nope. Not at all.

Sure you don’t.

So she certainly didn’t want a quick reminder of how Teagan had unwittingly helped her to “relax” in the shower.

Her cheeks flared with heat but she managed a brief smile, betraying nothing.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” she asked as they began to walk to the elevator. “Close any deals?”

Teagan laughed and shook his head as if he wasn’t one to share secrets and said, “How about you? Did you sleep alone?”

“A lady never shares such tawdry details,” she returned with a coy look. Let him think that she’d been doing anything aside from sitting in her pajamas, doing what was the equivalent of homework. “Well, at any rate, I doubt you’ll be lonely this trip. You have that look some women find appealing.”

“Some?”

“Well, you can’t be everyone’s cup of tea. It doesn’t work that way,” she said, laughing at the sudden arch of his brow. “My, someone’s ego is quite healthy, isn’t it?”

“Haven’t had many complaints,” he said, pushing the elevator button. “So what’s on your agenda today? Shopping?”

“I might check out some of the shops. I do love boutiques.” Total lie. She hated shopping. It also felt like homework. To be honest, she was much more comfortable with her hair in a bun, watching a movie in her yoga pants than being all dressed up. “And you? What’s on your plan?”

“I think I might check out the giant slide.”

Harper laughed as if that were an absurd idea but secretly she wished she could do the same. She’d seen the slide and been instantly wowed by how fun it must be to zip down that slippery thing. But it wasn’t as if she was about to do it. “Well, have fun,” she said, stepping into the elevator.

“I will,” he said, following.

The awkward ensuing silence did nothing to quell the jittery flutter in her stomach. Why were elevators so small? She could barely breathe.

And whatever cologne he was wearing...it was...heavenly.

But she wasn’t about to say that. Harper rubbed her nose with a delicate sniff. “My goodness, whatever you’re wearing is activating my sinuses.”

“Hmm...nothing but my skin, darlin’.”

He smelled like that naturally?

Good Lord.

The doors opened and they both exited, going in separate directions.

The fact that Teagan so easily left her in the dust gave her pause. Had she misread the signals? She thought for sure he was into her. Not that it mattered. But maybe her ego was a little bruised because he’d so easily brushed her off.

Did she want him to chase her just so she could turn him down?

Maybe a little.

Deliberately shoving any thought of Teagan far from her mind, Harper prepared to put Phase One into effect. Stuart was supposed to be on the upper deck, enjoying breakfast—his usual poached eggs and dry toast—and so that’s where she was heading, too.

She’d paid handsomely to be seated with Stuart, which, with enough careful flirting, should open the door to more private time together.

Ah! Right as rain. The man was nothing if not habitual. Stuart, his bald head covered with a jaunty hat—that was oddly endearing on him, but on anyone else would’ve looked like a flat pancake perched on his dome—was enjoying his eggs, chatting with the others at his table.

Harper made a point of pretending to look for her table and then approached the open seat with a small smile. “I believe I’m seated with you,” she said, and Stuart immediately rose to pull out her chair like a gentleman. Murmuring a “Thank you,” she slid into the seat and nodded a hello to the others, as well. She made a show of noticing Stuart’s eggs and asked, “How are the eggs? Done properly? I do so enjoy a perfectly poached egg.”

“Very good,” Stuart answered with a gleam in his eye as if he appreciated someone who also enjoyed his particular tastes. As expected, Stuart introduced himself. “Stuart Buck, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He gestured around the table. “This is Marv, Genevieve, Stella and Patrick.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Harper said, allowing Stuart to press a gallant kiss to the back of her hand. “Harper Riley.”

“Harper, may I order you a plate?” he asked solicitously, and Harper nodded with a smile.

“That would be lovely,” she said, playing the part of the demure lady for his benefit. Stuart was old-fashioned to his core. It was sweet in a way, but she needed to stop looking at him as a “sweet” man and start seeing him as a potential lover.

Ugh. Why is this so hard?

The waiter appeared and Stuart placed her order. He returned to Harper, interest in his eyes. “You are a lovely young lady,” he remarked and the rest of the table concurred. They were all middle-aged or older. In comparison, she looked like she could be their granddaughter, or daughter at the very least. “And you are not attached?”

“I could say the same for you,” she teased, turning the tables. “How is it that a handsome, stylish devil such as yourself is not already taken?”

Stuart chuckled and said, “Well, my beloved wife is recently deceased and I’m still acclimating to the single life, but to be honest, it’s not really my style. I don’t think I was cut out for the bachelor life.”

Marv agreed with a hearty laugh. “I hear ya, Stewie. I’m happiest with a nice, soft woman cuddled up beside me. It’s just not the same without a female around the house to make it a home.”

Harper wanted to be offended for Stuart for that atrocious familiarity but he took it in stride. He seemed to really enjoy hanging out with the eclectic group. Maybe it was true that Stuart did seek out the company of those in the trenches rather than those in his own tax bracket.




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