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Cabin Fever
Jillian Burns
Let the fever burn…Fashion blogger Carly Pendleton figured the "Sexiest Average Joe" cruise winner would be, well, sexy. But up close, fireman Joe Tedesco is insanely good-looking. Still, with exactly one chance to prove herself to the cutthroat fashion industry, not even the hottest hot dude will make this frosty fashionista break a sweat… . Until she wakes in the middle of the night to discover Joe in her bed. They have nothing in common… except for a combustible chemistry that quickly turns delectable kisses into even more wicked nights. And when the cruise ends, so does the fling. But a fireman never runs from the heat - even if it means getting burned.


Let the fever burn…
Fashion blogger Carly Pendleton figured the “Sexiest Average Joe” cruise winner would be, well, sexy. But up close, fireman Joe Tedesco is insanely good-looking. Still, with exactly one chance to prove herself to the cutthroat fashion industry, not even the hottest hot dude will make this frosty fashionista break a sweat….
Until she wakes in the middle of the night to discover Joe in her bed.
They have nothing in common…except for a combustible chemistry that quickly turns delectable kisses into even more wicked nights. And when the cruise ends, so does the fling. But a fireman never runs from the heat—even if it means getting burned.
Joe remembered he’d switched rooms….
Bleary-eyed, he shook his head to clear it, and recalled the right number. Forty-seven-eighty-two.
That was it. The key card clicked and the door opened with ease.
Wow, he was more tired than he realized.
The king-size bed awaited. He shucked his jeans and tossed his shirt to the floor, crawled onto the soft mattress and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Still, even in his dreams he couldn’t get Carly out of his mind. The piercing blue eyes, the sexy curves.
Her spicy scent filled his senses. He felt her soft breasts pushing against his back. In his dream he turned over and wrapped his arms around her hot body. It seemed so real that he could’ve sworn he could feel the silky material of her top. He nuzzled into a sweet neck, pressed a kiss to her delicate skin and heard her moan.
He stilled. Forced his heavy lids to open. And looked right into the wide-open eyes of Carly…


Dear Reader (#ulink_d93ac3bf-2895-55be-aeb2-fbc682fb5a2b),
I’ve been intrigued with the “wrong bed” concept in romance novels for a long time. And I wanted to see if I could write one that was believable. The key ingredient to making two people end up in the same bed by mistake seemed to me to be two bedrooms that looked exactly alike. I immediately thought of the cruise my family and I took. On the ship, every hallway on every deck looks exactly like the others, and every cabin, too. Perfect. And what more romantic setting could there be than the lush islands of the Caribbean?
The next ingredient for this story was getting a laid-back firefighter to melt the hardened heart of a tough, ambitious New Yorker. And, of course, the key to every great romance is always love. Love to bring together two people who appear to have nothing in common. Love to heal a lonely childhood and a broken heart. Love to give two people the courage to forgive the past and make a fresh start.
I hope this Wrong Bed story works for you! Watch for the next two books in this series coming soon, and please check my website, www.jillianburns.com (http://www.jillianburns.com), for more info and excerpts. Here’s a hint: I’m researching Navy SEALs.
Happy reading!
Jillian Burns
Cabin Fever
Jillian Burns

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#ulink_c09b2071-a6ec-5a2e-ad1c-54212f083831)
JILLIAN BURNS fell in love while reading such classics as Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice in her teens and has been reading romance novels ever since. She lives in Texas with her husband of twenty-five years and their three half-grown kids. She likes to think her emotional nature—sometimes referred to as moodiness by those closest to her—has found the perfect outlet in writing stories filled with passion and romance. She believes romance novels have the power to change lives with their message of eternal love and hope.
For my husband and partner of twenty-five years. You may not be “Mr. Romance,” but you are always there for me. And that’s true love.
A huge debt of gratitude goes to the usual suspects, without whom I could not produce even one chapter: Pam, Linda, Von, Barb and my editor, Kathryn Lye.
Contents
Cover (#u1c564006-4fb1-534b-b5a9-4ea417de70c2)
Back Cover Text (#u13074c51-ebaf-5246-96a4-ec3e3aac9b9b)
Introduction (#ud4ed5e2d-0e71-5fdf-8c76-38fed211e5b1)
Dear Reader (#u9da8bb25-8976-57f3-925f-036913d822cc)
Title Page (#u1f866f19-6cb4-500f-b0b7-c8cd523e4825)
About the Author (#u602d30a8-59f5-54d5-9842-5e6d544f8911)
Dedication (#uf21ef294-516a-5171-8454-0c6e8a2a6458)
Chapter 1 (#ue1b1a9c8-9a50-5ecc-97ab-cf9d3ece5ef4)
Chapter 2 (#u46c530dc-1b30-57ba-be0a-93f34ab471de)
Chapter 3 (#u4ca8b84d-ab74-5475-bcbe-50b1598cc4e3)
Chapter 4 (#u763dd93b-e895-5fbc-a507-f2d7c5225766)
Chapter 5 (#u3b6b448e-a1f6-50bb-af19-bcc47b583587)
Chapter 6 (#ueabac3f0-d7e2-5885-9bca-637babcddffb)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
1 (#ulink_77782d7f-f6bd-51c4-b285-8ffb6b971a29)
“YOU’RE LYING, TEDESCO.”
Joe narrowed his eyes at his accuser, brought the can of root beer to his lips and took a long sip. “You’ll have to play to find out, Wakowski.”
Wakowski snarled and studied his dwindling pile of chips on the table in the fire station’s kitchen.
Joe tapped his fingers on his thigh. With his luck they’d get a call before he could lay down his cards.
“Come on, Wakowski,” Everman urged. “In this century.” Everman had already folded, as had Miller and Stockton. Joe maintained his poker face.
Wakowski narrowed his eyes. “You’re bluffing.” He shoved all his remaining chips into the center of the table.
Joe grinned and revealed his Queen-high heart flush. “Read ’em and weep.”
The guys whooped and hollered and thudded Joe on the back. Wakowski cursed and pitched his cards down. “You’re a real scootch, you know dat?”
Joe grinned and began gathering up his winnings. His cell buzzed and he grabbed it off the table. At two on a Saturday afternoon it was probably his mother calling to make sure he was coming to the family dinner tomorrow. He checked the caller ID, but he didn’t recognize the number. He hesitated answering. If one of his sisters had set him up with one of their friends again...
Knowing he’d regret it, he punched the answer button. “Tedesco.”
“Mr. Joe Tedesco, of Brooklyn, New York?”
Great. Were telemarketers allowed to call cell phones now? “Uh...yeah?”
“This is Carly’s Couture calling about your entry in The Sexiest Average Joe contest and I’m thrilled to tell you that you are our winner!”
Joe blinked. Contest? Sexiest what? Wait a minute... He grinned at his fellow firemen sitting around the station house table. “Good one, guys.” He spoke into the phone. “So, I won, huh? What’d I win? A hot and heavy night with you, sweetheart?”
“Excuse me?”
Joe winced. The sleet falling outside was no match for the ice in this woman’s voice. If this was a prank, she was really good. “Uh, hold on a sec.” He held the phone to his chest. “Okay, you guys, you might as well fess up. I’m not falling for it.”
All four of his buddies gave him a confused look. Not good. He put the phone back to his ear. “Who’d you say you were again?”
“Carly Pendleton, with Carly’s Couture. I have a fashion blog for the average man and woman, and Modiste magazine cosponsored the national contest searching for the Sexiest Average Joe.”
Fashion blog? Wait. Modiste? Wasn’t that the fancy magazine his sisters were always reading, with all the makeover contests and quizzes on how to please a guy in bed? Alarm bells clanged and they weren’t coming from the firehouse. Joe stood and paced from the kitchen into the common area.
“Mr. Tedesco? Are you there?”
He barely heard her voice. Her previous words kept echoing in his mind. Contest. Modiste magazine. What had his sisters done now?
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m here.” Maybe he should think positive. Maybe he’d won a big-screen TV or a year’s supply of beer.
“—and the cruise leaves on Monday. I’ll have your boarding pass and a car will pick you up at your residence at 7:00 a.m. The flight to Miami departs at ten. The ship sails at four. Now, your entry form said you already have a passport?”
“Wait a minute. I won a cruise?” That could be fun.
“Five days and four nights to the Caribbean. Of course, that’s where we’ll be doing the photo shoot.”
“Photo shoot?”
The woman mumbled a request to save her from idiots. “You did read all the details of the contest before entering, didn’t you, Mr. Tedesco?”
He clenched his teeth. “It’s Joe. Mr. Tedesco is my father.”
“Okay. In case you need reminding, Joe, the photo shoot is the reason for the cruise. My blog will feature the Sexiest Average Joe wearing Carly’s Couture clothing choices and posing with a beautiful supermodel in exotic locales. You could end up with a lucrative modeling career, Mr. Tedesco. Maybe even become famous.”
Famous? If he’d wanted money and fame he would’ve signed the contract offer his sophomore year. He sure as hell wasn’t posing for some magazine like one of those pretty boys strutting around in their underwear. No, thanks. “Look, lady, I can’t just take off work at a moment’s notice.”
“Mr. Te—Joe. I promise the shoot won’t take all your time. There’ll be excursions and nightlife and we even provide you fifty dollars’ worth of chips at the ship’s casino.”
“You could offer me a thousand dollars in chips and I still wouldn’t be posing for some women’s magazine, especially not for some sexiest-man photos.”
“Oh, ho! Sexiest man?” called Everman.
Joe swiveled to find his fellow firemen gathered around him.
“Whoa, Mr. Sexy, huh?” Miller mocked.
Wakowski locked his hands behind his head and wiggled his hips. “Oooh, Sexy Joey.”
Joe shut them down with a scowl and an obscene hand gesture.
A split second of silence on the other end of the line suggested that the lady had heard the background commotion. “Look, Mr. Tedesco. When you signed the entry form you agreed to all the terms and conditions of the contest.”
Joe balled his free hand into a fist. “I didn’t sign anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Then, whoever did sign your name on the entry forms could be prosecuted for forgery.”
“Now hold on a minute.” His sisters were going to pay for this. The entry had to be their doing. He couldn’t see any of the guys here at the station risking his wrath. Or ever reading Modiste magazine for that matter. But he couldn’t let Donna-Marie and Rosalie be brought up on charges. He sighed. The chief had been nagging him to take some of his vacation....
“I’ll talk to my boss about the time off. If I’m able, I’ll be ready at 7:00 a.m. Monday.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Mr.—Joe. I promise you’re going to have a wonderful week in the Caribbean.”
Joe clicked off, ignored his buddies’ questions and stalked toward the chief’s office. A wonderful week? He seriously doubted that.
* * *
CARLY STOOD FUMING in Miami’s cruise terminal, slapping her clipboard against her linen skirt-covered thigh. For five long years she’d slaved away as a seamstress in the garment district learning everything she could about the fashion industry. Her interactive blog had only allowed her to quit her day job just last year. It was doing well, but this was her shot to hit the big time.
And the supermodel was late.
Unfortunately, she’d sent the same limo this morning to pick up her Average Joe. She’d had to scramble at the last minute to book them the next flight to Miami and hope they made that one. Then arrange for the Florida limo to return for them once they reached Miami International Airport.
After arriving at the cruise terminal, Carly had successfully directed the photographer and his crew, the hair and makeup teams, the Modiste liaison and the clothing handlers from the major department stores on Fifth Avenue onto the ship. All of the top stores had agreed, thanks to the editor at Modiste, to lend couture for the shoots. But the clothes would do no good if the ship took off without her models.
She pulled her cell out and called the limo service one more time. They’d already contacted the driver once and confirmed the limo was waiting for the plane to land. Piper—the supermodel with one name, had kept the limo waiting to take her to JFK airport for over three hours. She’d barely made the following flight out.
And if they didn’t get to the cruise terminal in the next thirty minutes, the ship would sail without them.
“Ms. Pendleton, the driver reported he’s five blocks from the pier.”
“Thank you!” She touched End Call on her screen, stuck her phone back in her jacket pocket, and ran as fast as her Louboutins would carry her to the terminal entrance.
Within a few minutes she saw the limo pull up and the driver get out and open the back door. Out stepped the most exotically beautiful woman Carly had ever seen. Straight black hair fell to her waist and her soft caramel complexion showed off luminous light green eyes that looked around her with distaste. The woman carried an enormous handbag and a tiny yappy dog.
Beside her was a shorter woman holding a diamond-studded leash. Piper’s assistant. Carly had spoken with her on the phone. She had the same exotic features as Piper. Beautiful, even with the left side of her face marred by a long, jagged scar.
When the assistant turned her left side away, Carly could’ve kicked herself for staring, and searched behind the two women for her Average Joe.
Where was he?
The driver was at the trunk unloading six, no, seven pieces of designer luggage. And helping him while they talked as if they’d been good friends for years was her contest winner.
Her breath caught as Joe smiled at something the driver said. Carly usually detested the scruffy, unshaved look that was popular right now, wishing she could take a razor to their jaw. But on her Average Joe, it worked, befitting his blue-collar status and accenting his white teeth.
“Hello?” The supermodel snapped her fingers in front of Carly’s face.
Annoyed at herself, Carly stepped forward and extended her right hand. “Piper, so nice to meet you.” The dog snapped at her fingers and Carly jerked her hand back just in time to prevent getting bit. The dog’s high-pitched yapping made her ears ring.
“Oh, poor Pootsie! You’ve upset him.” Piper’s low, smoky voice still managed to sound whiny, even with the British accent.
Carly bit the inside of her cheek and directed porters to rush the baggage to the ship and tipped them extra to make sure it got to the correct cabin.
Piper was still comforting her dog in a pouty baby language.
“I’m sorry. But if we don’t hurry, we won’t make it onto the ship.” Carly gestured toward the customs desk.
“Oh, but I have to say goodbye to my little Pootsie darling.” She held the dog up and nuzzled her face into the dog’s neck. “Bye-bye, baby,” she crooned. “Mommy has to go now. These mean ol’ cruise people won’t let me bring you. I’m going to miss you, yes I am.” She smooched on the dog a couple more times, and hugged it to her breasts.
“I’m sorry, Piper, but they still need to check your passport, and if we don’t hurry the ship will sail without us.”
The tall, slim model gave a disgusted huff, gently handed the yapping dog to the assistant and stalked away.
With a barely aborted eye roll, Carly turned to greet her Average Joe. She blinked at the impossibly sculpted chest and massive biceps outlined by a tight black T-shirt. Average? There was nothing average about this man. His entry photo should’ve prepared her. But a five-by-seven glossy was no match for the living, breathing man in front of her.
In her stocking feet she was five-nine. With her heels, she reached six feet. And she still had to look up to meet his gaze. Warm brown eyes and shaggy black hair and that scruffy beard. She detested facial hair on a man. But standing this close to all that heat and muscle brought out something in her so raw, so primal that she had to catch her breath.
He cleared his throat and hefted a duffel bag higher on his broad shoulder. “Hiya.”
“Mr. Te—Joe, I’m Carly Pendleton.” She offered her right hand and he grabbed it hard, as if he didn’t realize his own strength. “We spoke on the phone Saturday.”
He nodded, stilled, and frowned. “Pendleton?”
“Yes.” Resentment smoldered in her veins as it always did at this point in an introduction. “I’m his daughter. Does it matter?”
Holding on to her hand, his gaze scanned her body—down her legs and back up to meet her eyes. Then he flashed white teeth in a salacious smile. “Not a bit.”
The smile hit her like a gale-force wind. His palm was rough and hot. Yes, she’d been right about the heat.
Pushing away the thought, she dropped her hand and stepped back, half turning away from him. “If you’ll follow Piper to the customs desk, please?” She gestured toward the uniformed guards and the metal detector.
“Yes, ma’am.” As he moved past her, a subtle scent wafted by. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Mmm. She had a nose for colognes and his was not by any designer she recognized. The fragrance was something old-fashioned. Uniquely masculine. And incredibly attractive.
“You all right?”
Joe’s deep rumble startled her. Carly opened her eyes and met his gaze. He stared at her, the intensity in his dark brown eyes making her flinch. Her face warmed. Her throat tightened.
Great. Did she have no control over her body? She pasted on a smile and nodded. “Just dandy.” She brought her clipboard up and pretended to scrutinize page after page until Average Joe stepped up to hand his passport to the customs agent.
Dandy? She could kick herself. She’d graduated summa cum laude, for Pete’s sake. And all she could come up with was dandy? Geez. This was going to be a long five days.
2 (#ulink_2b358630-c301-5fe2-a1ff-d8b2838372a8)
“STOP RIGHT THERE.” Joe grabbed the wrist of the man trying to smear something on his eye.
The guy’s lips flattened. He shoved his free hand on his hip, threw his head back and called out, “Ms. Pendleton!” in a high voice.
Joe searched the crowded suite for his nemesis. The place was a circus this morning. Though he had to admit, the accommodations were nice. This suite was a mirror image of his.
Last night he’d slept better than he expected. The shower head was too low, but that was par for him. The king-size bed had been comfortable, there was a sofa and a table with seating for two and the cabin even had a balcony.
But he’d barely gotten himself a cup of coffee this morning before someone had knocked on his door to escort him here. He’d been dragged to a chair in front of a lighted mirror and a woman started trying to cut his hair.
There had to be at least a dozen people in this cabin. Still, he easily found Carly Pendleton. She was the type to stand out in a crowd. Tall and slim, but she had curves in all the right places. Her skirt and blouse hugged her figure as if they’d been made for her. Which, come to think of it, they probably had. And her long, thick brunette hair had not a strand out of place, even at seven in the morning.
But her best feature was her eyes. They were the color of arctic ice. A light blue so vivid they could capture a man’s gaze and freeze him where he stood, make him her prisoner until she deigned to set him free.
He shivered just thinking about being trapped in her frigid world. A man could get frostbite.
At the call of her name, Ms. Pendleton glanced over at the makeup guy, took another moment to nod and shake her head at a selection of clothing a woman held, and then walked over.
Just watching her walk riveted Joe’s attention. The way she held her shoulders back and her chin slightly lifted, as if she was noble-born. She’d probably attended one of those fancy boarding schools. Surely, her father would’ve been able to afford it.
The only thing he remembered about her father’s investment scandal was that his wife had claimed complete innocence of his scheme. The fact that the crook had a kid had barely registered.
“What is it, Christoph?”
“The gentleman won’t let me apply liner to his eyes.”
She trained those icy blues on him. “Joe, I realize it seems emasculating, but the sunlight and the camera will wash out your eyes without a little liner. Surely you’re confident enough in your masculinity to allow a tiny bit of makeup?”
Oh, well, if she was going to challenge his masculinity... He folded his arms. “No.”
Irritation sparked in her eyes. Hmm, the ice queen heated up. This could be fun.
She straightened her shoulders and folded her arms, too. His attention fixed on the outline of her lace bra through her thin silk blouse.
“Mr. Tedesco.”
He imagined her only in delicate lacy lingerie, some sheer stockings and those ridiculously high heels of hers. Barely cutting off a groan, he scanned the room for a pitcher of water. His throat was dry.
“Mr. Tedesco? I already have one diva to deal with and she hasn’t even deigned to show up yet.” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Joe! Are you listening?”
“What?” He pulled his mind back from the beginnings of a sensual daydream. Noticed the bottle of water on the table beside him and grabbed it.
“I was saying that the liner won’t be at all noticeable in the final version of the photo.”
He twisted the cap off, gulped a few swallows and dried his lips on his sleeve. “In that case...” He leaned forward and she leaned in, too. “It’s still no.”
She jerked back, her eyes flared, anger spitting. Her perfectly shaped lips pinched. Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply. Then her face relaxed and she gave him a saccharine sweet smile. “Fine. We wouldn’t want your Man Card revoked, now would we?” She trained her eyes on the makeup guy. “Christoph, just a light dusting of powder on the nose so he doesn’t shine like Rudolph.”
Her gaze zapped back to Joe. “Unless you’re too manly for that?”
He grinned. “That’s fine.” No woman had ever talked to him this way before. Was this how all Manhattan women were? He’d lived in Brooklyn all his life, and the only women he hung around had known him since elementary school. To them he was Little Joey, the high school football hero.
“Thank you so much. Is there anything else I should obtain your permission on before I resume directing my photo shoot?”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”
Her fake smile disappeared. “Tony,” she called to a young man fiddling with some photo equipment. “Make sure the lighting on our Average Joe is filtered so he doesn’t wash out.” Then she spun on her heels and stalked back to the other side of the room.
She had the temper of a back-alley dog. And he had a feeling her bite was worse than her bark.
* * *
“NO, THAT’S NOT WORKING.” Carly heaved a sigh and shook her head. Honestly, she didn’t know which one was worse, the high maintenance supermodel or the infuriatingly bullheaded contest winner. It didn’t help that her stomach was churning and her head felt as if someone had jammed an ice pick in her temples. Didn’t everyone else feel the ship listing from side to side?
She steeled herself to approach the couple. Piper must be handled with kid gloves. And Joe, well, Carly had to fight to keep her mind on business when she went near the guy.
“Piper, you’re looking just gorgeous with the turquoise water behind you. Really brings out your eyes.” They’d positioned the deck chairs against the railing and the Caribbean Sea sparkled in the warm sun. There was a tang of salt in the humid air. Humph. Carly would take New York cab exhaust any day.
Piper merely rolled said eyes. “You need to hurry this up. I’m tired and bored. And thirsty. Someone bring me a Bloody Mary.”
Carly clenched her teeth and bit back what she wanted to say. “Yes, I’ll get that ordered right away, but if I could just ask you to try to look more interested in Joe, for just a few moments?”
Piper raised a delicate brow that got lost in the fringe of her bangs. “I am.”
“Yes, well, maybe a little more, please? And Joe.” Carly focused her attention on his right shoulder. “When you’re turned facing Piper in the deck chair, just turn from your waist, not your legs. Leave your legs facing forward please.”
“Like this?” The man spread his knees and, whether intentionally or not, he seemed to flex his thigh muscles.
Now she was staring and Carly felt her face heat. She spun away, pretending to check the position of the sun.
When she could face him once more, she studied his shoulder again. “Yes, but you have to be turned toward Piper from the waist up.” She cupped his shoulders to swivel his upper body. Her hands met rigid muscle beneath the starched cotton dress shirt. Heat radiated from him, scorching her palms. And there was that scent again. His cologne or shampoo, whatever it was made her knees weak. Or maybe that was just part of the seasickness.
“Not that I care, but you’re wrinkling the Armani here,” Joe said in a low tone.
Carly blinked, saw that her hands were gripping his arms, lifted them off and stepped away. “It’s Hilfiger,” she mumbled.
One side of his mouth crooked up in a smirk. But he laid his arm along the back of Piper’s deck chair and turned from the waist exactly as Carly had asked.
Impressed, she headed for the camera to check the frame and, as she looked through the lens, Joe lifted his other hand to cup Piper’s cheek and turn her to face him. He said something and flashed that dazzling smile and Piper actually smiled back.
Carly straightened and motioned for the photographer to step in and snap the picture. What had Joe said to Piper? As the camera snapped away, he spoke to the model again and her expression turned sultry, her eyes half-lidded. She stared at Joe as if she were about to rip his clothes off. Unbelievable.
Carly gaped as the two models spoke in whispered tones, their heads moving toward each other, their lips almost touching. The cameraman clicked pictures from every angle, encouraging them. Piper unbuttoned Joe’s shirt and slipped a hand inside, rubbing her fingers over his chest. Then her hand dropped to his thigh, over his denim shorts, but inching her way to—
“That’s great!” Carly yelled. “Thank you, everyone.” She moved forward to stand before Piper, who’d, thankfully, removed her hand from Joe’s thigh, even if she did radiate annoyance.
Too bad. Carly’s headache had worsened and she wasn’t in the mood to indulge the diva. She bent from the waist to scrutinize Piper’s face. “We’re done for today, but be sure to get a good night’s sleep. We have an early morning shoot and there’s only so much makeup can do for dark circles.”
Piper gasped, and then narrowed those light green eyes to glare at Carly. “If I have dark circles it’s because the cabin you put me in is deplorable! I can’t sleep there. You’ll have to find me something larger. On a higher deck. And while you’re at it—”
“I’m afraid there are no other rooms larger than what you have.” Carly clenched her fists around her clipboard. “I can look into seeing if there are any cabins available on a higher deck, but—”
“Then do it!” The prima donna pushed up out of the deck chair and stomped off in a high-heeled huff.
Joe got to his feet. A smitten half grin quirked his lips as he watched Piper walk away, her pert little butt perfectly displayed in the white designer short-shorts. Of course Joe would be attracted to Ms. Exotic.
Carly spun to face her lighting and camera crew. “Tomorrow we dock in Grand Turk at 7:00 a.m. Be ready to disembark at 6:45. I’ve reserved a chartered plane and want to head to the Caicos Islands. Take whatever special equipment you might need for shooting outdoors, and inside a cave. We have to be back on the ship by 7:00 p.m., and Thursday we disembark at Half Moon Cay. I want shots on the white sandy beaches there, Friday we’ll only shoot for a few hours in Nassau. It’s all on your itinerary I handed out yesterday after the safety drill. Any questions?”
In the silence of shaking heads she turned back around and saw Joe was fingering a tiny slip of paper. Was that Piper’s room number? Was he going to meet her there tonight? Or...had they slept together already?
Ignoring the sharp pinch in her stomach, she gave her attention to the crew disassembling the photo equipment. But she felt Joe’s presence behind her. She turned to face him. “My recommendation pertains to you, too, Mr. Tedesco.”
“Recommendation?” His grin had disappeared and his brows rose. His chest exposed by the unbuttoned shirt was taut and tanned with a light dusting of hair.
Carly diverted her gaze to his face. “Yes. To get a good night’s sleep. I can’t have my Sexiest Average Joe showing up tomorrow looking haggard and unkempt.”
He scowled and took a step closer to her. “Unkempt?”
His bronze skin gleamed in the sunlight that also played in his breeze-ruffled black hair. She remembered he was a fireman and probably worked out to maintain his muscular physique. His shoulders blocked her view of anything but him, and her knees wanted to buckle. Her knees? Weak? Over a man she barely knew? What was she, some pathetic romance-novel heroine? It was just that she hadn’t eaten today yet. She probably had low blood sugar. And with her height, she was unaccustomed to men looming over her. He was invading her personal space. So, naturally his overwhelming frame felt...well, overwhelming.
“Unkempt. It means disheveled, messy, slovenly.”
He folded his arms and his biceps bulged. “I know what it means.” His mouth was a grim line. He looked irritated.
“Good. Then perhaps whatever you’re planning for tonight can be postponed until I’ve finished my photo shoot.”
His face crinkled up in a confused expression. “What do you think I have planned for tonight?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. I realize she’s beautiful and glamorous. What guy could resist that? But until—”
“Look, lady.” He dropped his arms to place his hands low on his hips and half turned away. Then he leaned toward her. “First of all, if I wanted her, I wouldn’t be deterred by an uptight, bossy, arrogant—” he clamped his mouth shut “—woman,” he finished between his teeth.
Carly’s temper flared. “Uptight? Just because I don’t lose control and crawl all over you like Ms. Supermodel?”
He raised his brows and smiled. “So, you want to crawl all over me?”
All that raw sex appeal wrapped in a killer grin. Despite her irritation, she pictured herself in his lap, their mouths exploring one another, her hands all over his six feet four inches of gleaming muscles. The air whooshed from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She was horrified. Mortified. “No!” She dragged in a breath. “I mean, that is not at all what I was saying.” She clamped her mouth shut and folded her arms in front of her. “Just...” She waved a hand in his direction. “Be on time tomorrow.” She stalked away. And heard him chuckle behind her.
The thought of him in Piper’s bed, rolling around in the sheets with her, naked, made Carly’s chest feel hollow. But...maybe she’d get the best photos of them if they were sleeping together? Just like a few moments ago, they’d been cooing at each other like lovebirds and the results had been fantastic.
So, let them have at it, what did she care? Besides, Joe was practically an employee. How awkward would a one-night stand be with him when they had to work together the next few days?
And maybe if she kept repeating all those excuses to herself, she could keep from throwing herself at him and ripping his clothes off....
She knew what her problem was. It’d been a long time since Reese had moved out. She just missed being touched. Missed a warm body beside her at night.
But losing Reese had been inevitable. She should never have moved in with him. And she didn’t blame him for leaving. He hadn’t understood her drive to succeed. He’d complained about her long hours at the apparel factory, and then coming home at night to work on her blog.
Now, her years of sacrifice had paid off with this remarkable opportunity from Modiste. And she wasn’t going to let anything ruin it. The success of her blog depended on this photo shoot. And the success of this photo shoot depended on making her troublesome supermodel happy.
She’d thought that when Modiste hired Piper to pose with her contest winner, the controversial model might draw more entries and consequently more followers, but now she wasn’t sure Piper was worth it. The woman was petulant, whiny and demanding. She’d shown up over an hour late this morning with no excuse or apology.
But the photos they’d taken of her and Joe were golden. Carly could picture them on the cover of Modiste magazine. If everything worked out as she hoped, maybe she could get the editor at Modiste to agree to sponsor a Sexiest Average Jane contest next season. And with her Carly’s Couture blog linked to the bestselling magazine she was insured success. Then, maybe the Pendleton name would come to be associated with something other than heartless greed.
But first she had to see the captain about a vacant cabin on a higher deck.
3 (#ulink_b8c5f4af-6435-5e21-aead-83d1014df59b)
PIPER SPUN ON the dance floor, gyrating her hips to the beat of the deafening rock music. With her eyes closed, she lost herself in the thumping bass and flashing lights. The crowds of young, carefree people dancing all around her were her sanctuary.
She loved nightclubs. She loved champagne and loud music and having men fall all over themselves to be with her. And the freedom to tell them to get lost. Ahhh, the freedom. She’d missed that in rehab.
Thank the gods her agent had gotten her out of that place! Her counselor had wanted to discuss the past. But Piper the Supermodel had no past. Anju Rajaraman was dead. She’d died eight years ago in the slums of Calcutta. She was Piper now. And Piper would never go back to being that starving, powerless little girl.
Why was she thinking of those days? She was here to have fun.
She lifted her arms above her head and spun again, checking out the men in the cruise ship’s nightclub.
Her gaze strayed to the adjoining piano bar and landed on the tall, dark and sexy hunk of man she’d posed with all day. He’d told her that Carly was wrong. That her eyes made the turquoise water seem dull in comparison. Mmm, yes, he was interesting.
Running her hands through her hair, she danced her way over to the glass door and entered the quieter room. A few passengers were scattered around intimate little tables. Joe sat at one of them, nursing a tumbler of amber-colored liquid.
“Come dance with me?”
He looked up from his glass into her eyes, glanced over at the nightclub dance floor, and then met her gaze again with a grimace. “Not really my thing.”
Piper pouted, but took the other chair, crossing her legs and leaning her elbows on the table. The skimpy, sparkly dress had a draped bodice that showed off her cleavage when she bent over. She watched his gaze take in the view. “Buy me a drink?”
His eyes rose to her face again. “Sure.” He motioned to the waitress. “What’ll you have?”
“Appletini,” she ordered when the waitress appeared. After she left, Piper sat back and lifted her hair off the back of her neck. “So, a New York firefighter, huh?”
He nodded. “Brooklyn.”
“And you go around saving lives?”
He shrugged. “A few.”
Humility? It must be an act. Men were never what they seemed. Eventually, he’d show his true stripes. Then she would shut him down. She leaned forward again and slid a finger up his sleeve. “Don’t be so modest.”
His gaze followed her fingers and then looked up into her eyes. “Uh...”
“Don’t you want—”
He took her hand and moved it back to the table. “You’re a beautiful woman, Piper, but—”
“Never mind. You think I would actually be with a fireman from...Brooklyn?” Grabbing her Appletini, she scooted her chair back, stood and returned to the nightclub. After she downed the drink in one swallow, she ordered another from the bar and then joined the crowd on the dance floor.
He’d turned her down? Then why had he flirted with her all day during the photo shoot? She hadn’t noticed a wedding ring—as if that ever stopped a man.
Forget him. There were plenty more where he came from. It wasn’t as if she ever enjoyed it anyway. Sometimes, it was simply a way to forget, if just for a little while....
And here she was thinking of the past again. That was the counselor’s fault. Think only of this moment, Piper.
This moment was all she had.
* * *
JOE WATCHED PIPER flounce off in her high heels and short dress, her hips swaying dramatically. Everyone in the bar had their cell phones out snapping her picture.
Yeah, that woman was Drama with a capital D. Between his job and family, he had enough of that in his life. Bad enough he had to have his photo taken with her splashed all over a national magazine. If he became her boy toy for the cruise’s duration and someone snapped a picture on their cell...
The guys would rib him endlessly over that, but Joe could do without the fifteen minutes of fame. What he wanted was quiet. Calm. Normal.
“There you are.” Carly appeared at his table. “Christoph said he saw you in here.”
Whoa. She wore a slinky, strapless navy gown that looked as though it would be right at home sauntering down the red carpet. Cleavage peeking out and all. He swallowed. “Wow.”
Carly looked down, examining herself with a perplexed expression on her face. “Oh, I dined with the captain tonight. You received an invitation.”
“Yeah, I don’t do monkey suits.” Although if he’d known Carly would be there looking like this...
“Listen, Joe. I need...a favor.”
Joe straightened in his chair, pulled the empty one out for her. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” She sat, closed her eyes and massaged her temples.
Joe took the opportunity to study her. She was the one who looked haggard. Dark circles under her eyes were prominent, and she seemed weighted by exhaustion. She was more fun when she was biting his head off. This more vulnerable Carly threw him off balance, made him want to protect her.
When the waitress came over, Carly ordered water and then pulled a tiny golden pill case from a little purse that matched the dress.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She opened the case and shook out two pills. “I think I spent too much time in my cabin staring at my laptop this afternoon. It’s just a bit of mal de mer.”
Joe recognized the pills to combat motion sickness. Had she not had time to relax since the photo shoot this morning? That was no way to live.
“That’s seasickness.”
This assuming he was ignorant was getting annoying. “Yeah, I gathered that. What can I do for you?”
“I—” The waitress set a cold bottle of water down along with an empty glass and Carly popped the pills into her mouth and chased them down with the water. Her shoulders sagged and she released a breath. Then, as if gathering her strength, she drew in a deep breath, sat up straight, and met his gaze. “I need you to switch cabins with Piper.”
Joe blinked. That was it? “No problem.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Really? You don’t mind? It’s just that your cabin is on a higher deck than mine and there aren’t any other suites avail—”
“It’s fine.”
She slumped against the back of the chair. “Thank you. You have no idea...I talked to the cruise director at dinner and he said he could have the stewards move your things. If you’ll give me your key card, I’ll go get Piper’s.” She frowned and finally looked at him again.
Pulling his card from his pocket, he nodded toward the nightclub. “She’s next door dancing.”
Carly’s gaze followed his. “I’ll be right back.” Her mouth pursed in grim determination as she took his key card.
Joe watched her walk away, appreciating the curve of her figure outlined by the fitted gown. When she approached the supermodel in the middle of the dance floor, he could practically read the conversation from their gestures and facial expressions.
Piper pulled a card from her tiny shoulder-strapped purse and exchanged it for the one Carly gave her, but not before making some snarky remark. Carly stiffened, but kept her mouth closed. She dropped the card in her purse, spun and headed back toward him.
Joe knocked back the rest of his whiskey and got to his feet as she returned. “Okay, all I need to do now is call the cruise director. At dinner, he said he could change the cabins’ occupancy information and all the key cards have Modiste’s credit information, so that doesn’t change.” She pulled the key card from her purse and dropped it in his waiting hand. Her brows were knitted in pain and she actually swayed.
He caught her, straightened her. “How about I walk you back to your cabin.”
She leaned into him, clutching his shoulder. So soft in his arms. Heat and need flared inside him. He closed his eyes as blood surged southward, leaving him light-headed, and hard. She shivered, inhaled a ragged breath, her pale blue eyes peering at him with...fear? Confusion? Then they iced over. She pulled out of his grip, stepped back. “No. I’ll be fine.”
He stuck his hands in his pants pockets, shoving the key card deep. “Suit yourself.”
“But.” She reached out and grasped his arm. “Thank you.” Then she dropped her hand and left, her tough, no-nonsense stride contradicting the claim of seasickness.
“Hey.” He strode after her.
She stopped and turned.
“What’s my new cabin number?”
“Forty-eight seventy-t— No!” She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. Piper’s is—” She bit her bottom lip, then her face cleared and she smiled. “Forty-two seventy-eight.” With a wave of her hand she was striding out the door again.
Joe stood there giving himself a moment to recover from the whiplash to his libido. He could’ve sworn she’d felt whatever had sparked between them, too. But, it was just as well. Even if she was the most interesting woman he’d met in too long to remember. And more challenging than any woman he ever dealt with. She was too uptight. Too bossy. Too...whatever.
Forget about it! He was on a cruise ship with round the clock entertainment. When would he ever get this kind of chance again? He made his way to the casino, found a stool in front of a one-armed bandit and ordered a couple more drinks while he fed it quarters.
Bleary-eyed and out of coins, he checked his cell. 1:37 a.m. He’d better head to bed. Feeling just buzzed enough to take the edge off his sexual frustrations, he stood and made his way to the elevator. But once he got in the elevator and punched his old deck number he remembered he’d switched rooms with the diva and—he couldn’t remember what his new room number was. If he hadn’t been so distracted by sexy Carly and her sweet sexy curves and those ice-blue eyes...
He shook his head to clear it and remembered. Forty-seven eighty-two. He punched the button for the fourth deck and when the elevator let him out he walked down the long hall suddenly exhausted and dizzy. Perhaps he had a bit of mal de mer, too.
Ahh, here was forty-eight seventy-two. The key card clicked and the door opened with ease. He let out a relieved breath he wouldn’t have to call someone for help and look like an idiot.
The room was pitch-dark, but he didn’t want to bother to switch on the big overhead light. Man, he was more tired than he’d realized. He flipped on the tiny light in the closet.
The cabin didn’t have a balcony as he’d expected Piper’s would have, but he didn’t care. The king-size bed awaited. He shucked his jeans, crawled onto the soft mattress, and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Still, even in his dreams he couldn’t get Carly out of his mind. Her spicy scent filled his senses and he felt her soft breasts pushing against his back. In his dream he turned over and wrapped his arms around her hot body. It seemed so real that he could’ve sworn he could feel the silky material of her nightgown catch on the calluses of his palms. He nuzzled into a sweetly soft neck, pushed his rigid erection against her stomach and heard her moan.
He stilled. Forced his heavy lids to open. And looked right into Carly’s wide-open eyes.
And then she screamed.
4 (#ulink_8a2be1b8-2012-5a69-98d7-abe753018321)
CARLY SHOVED OUT of Joe’s arms and scrambled off the bed. “What are you doing here? How’d you get in my room?”
“Your room?” Joe rose up on one elbow and ran a hand through his hair, all the while his gaze fixated on her...
She followed where he was staring. She wore only her thong underwear and a cami. And the underwear didn’t hide much. She snatched the comforter off the bed and draped it around her. “Yes, my room. Do you honestly think I’d sneak into your room and crawl into your bed?”
He sat up, looking around the room. The sheet fell down to his waist and Carly didn’t even try not to gape. Taut, defined muscles and dark hair that tapered to a line down past his belly button. Wow, even his belly button was sexy. He threw back the sheet and Carly spun to avert her gaze. From the corner of her eye she saw him swing his legs over the edge of the mattress on his side, his back to her. “If this is your room, then why did my key work?”
Her mind couldn’t focus. This was her room, wasn’t it? She didn’t remember using her key... The medication must have really knocked her out. She hadn’t slept so deeply in ages. But now her memory seemed to be missing parts of last night. She recalled getting Joe and Piper to switch cabins. Feeling dizzy again in the elevator and barely making it to her room, and—Oh!
She spun back to face him and snapped her fingers. “The steward!” Aha. “I didn’t have to use my key because the steward was in here turning down my bed when I—”
Joe had stood and moved around the bed, searching the floor, wearing black boxer briefs that hugged him nice and snug.
She swallowed. Out of breath all of a sudden. “—got here,” she finished lamely.
Shaking his head, he bent over and grabbed his pants off the floor. “I used the key you gave me to get in. This is the room number you told me was mine. So, if this isn’t my cabin, then it’s your fault I’m in here.” He shoved his legs—very long, very brawny legs—into the pants and yanked them up.
Carly blinked, trying to remember. Could she have given him her key?
Holding the bottom of the comforter up like the train of a long gown, she marched to the table, grabbed her bag and dug around for her key. By the time she found it and got to the door, Joe was already there, his key pulled from his pocket. He was so close his dark brown eyes looked like pools of rich, molten fudge. He smelled of sleepy linen and the faintest hint of masculine sweat. Oh, why hadn’t he put on his shirt? She realized she was staring at him.
“If my key works you’re going to owe me,” he said.
She snapped back. “Owe you what?” She didn’t owe him a thing. If he thought he could—
“Well, I was going for an apology, but if you had something else in mind...” He raised a brow and gave her a slow, suggestive smile.
Ignoring the bare chest in front of her, Carly pursed her lips. “Just try your key.”
“And if it doesn’t work are you going to leave me standing out in the hall the rest of the night?”
“Not so sure about your key, now, huh?”
His smile dropped and his eyes narrowed. “Fine.” He opened the door, stepped outside and Carly closed the door in his face.
A second later she heard the click of a key swiping, the handle turned and the door shoved open. Joe stepped inside wearing a smug expression. “So, what do you bet your key opens Piper’s room?”
Oh, no. What had she done? She stared at the key in her hand. He probably thought she’d purposely given him her key and room number. That this was all a ploy to get him. Did he think that she was so desperate for sex, or for him in particular? She’d never. She squeezed her eyes closed, too embarrassed to look at him.
“Hey, everybody makes mistakes.” His rough fingers cupped her chin and lifted her face.
She made herself open her eyes and meet his gaze. “I swear, I didn’t—”
“I know.” The fingers of his other hand caressed her cheek. He lowered his head and gently touched his lips to hers.
And that was all it took. She opened her mouth and took the kiss deep, her lips as desperate and as needy as she’d convinced herself she wasn’t minutes ago. She pressed him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck, running her hands over his taut shoulders and fingering the curls at the base of his neck.
With a low growl he took control of the kiss, teasing her with his tongue. His arms tightened around her waist. He lifted her, and she hooked a leg around his hip as he walked them to the bed. The comforter slipped down to her hips and he broke the kiss, grinned and laid her on the mattress.
Joe’s eyes flared as he stared at her body. Feeling her feminine power, Carly lay back on her elbows and raised one knee, then let it drop.
She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. He raised a brow, unzipped his pants and got rid of them, along with his underwear.
Her breath caught. He was magnificent. How was this guy still single? Wait. Maybe he had a girlfriend.
He lowered himself over her, bracing himself with his hands. With one knee bent between her thighs, he nuzzled into her neck, nibbling the sensitive skin from below her ear to her shoulder.
Carly closed her eyes, shivering at the feel of his lips exploring, moving down her collarbone... What had she been about to ask him? Something about too good to be true... A girlfriend. She snapped her eyes open and flattened her palms on his chest.
He raised his head and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“You have a fiancée?”
“Hell, no.”
“A girlfriend?”
His face contorted in disgust. “I wouldn’t be here, doing this with you if I did.” He shoved off the bed and bent to pull up his pants.
Carly scooted forward to the edge and covered his hands as he was about to zip up. “Wait.”
“I think the mood has passed, don’t you?”
“It’s just that generally when something seems too good to be true, it’s because it is.”
He scoffed. “And what about me seems too good?”
“Well, you did just win Modiste’s sexiest Average Joe.” She let go of his hands and ran her palms over his chest, reveling in the wall of muscle, and large flat nipples. “You have to admit you’re exceptionally attractive.”
Now he caught her hands. “I know I don’t exactly scare women away.”
“Come on!” She looked up into his eyes, saw the disbelief there. “You really didn’t enter our contest yourself, did you?”
“Does it matter as long as I’m here?”
She shook her head. “Not a bit.”
He cupped her face, his fingers combing back her hair. “Then, where were we?” He bent and captured her mouth and Carly assumed it was a rhetorical question.
She couldn’t get enough of his mouth moving over hers, his tongue playing with hers. She writhed beneath him when he caught her breast in his palm, kneading and caressing it until the nipple became a sensitive peak. His lips deserted her mouth and left a hot, moist trail down her jaw and neck to the top of her breast. He tugged the thin strap of her cami down until he could capture her nipple and draw on it deeply.
Shifting his weight to her side, he teased her nipple as the fingers of his other hand slid down her hip and slipped under her thong.
She moaned, bucking in time to his intimate touch. The exquisite pressure was building inside her.
The orgasm hit her hard and fast and she cried out. A fog of pleasure enveloped her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t quite believe this was happening. That she’d let this happen. She was vaguely aware he was pressing tiny kisses around her breast, still stroking her sensitized core. He was skilled, all right. But it was more than that. More than just his unbelievable physique and charming smile. She’d met plenty of good-looking guys. But Joe seemed—the word sounded silly—but...he seemed sincere.
“Well, my job is done here.” Joe started to remove his hand and sit up.
Her eyes snapped open and she caught his wrist. “What?”
He grinned and chuckled. “Just wanted to see if you were still with me.”
With a growl, she shoved his chest until he lay on his back. She climbed over him, straddling his knees, unzipped his pants and encircled his cock. “Oh, I’m with you, all right.” She bent and took him in her mouth.
Behaving like this was so unlike her. She didn’t usually do playful in bed. This wild, intense response to Joe was mad. She’d probably regret it.
But not tonight.
He moaned and whispered her name. Thus encouraged, she put all her effort into driving him crazy. She took him deep and then teased him with her tongue, then deep again. He cursed and lifted his hips, tangling his fingers in her hair.
When she raised her gaze to watch him, his eyes were squeezed closed, his head thrown back and she could see a vein or two enlarged in his neck. She grinned. Turnabout was fair play. She swirled her tongue around the head once more before he urged her to stop.
“Okay, I give.” His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, but his mouth was turned up in a lopsided smile. “Uncle. You win.”
With a seductive smile Carly pulled the cami over her head and tossed it to the floor. His gaze dropped to her breasts and he reached up to cup them in his large callused hands. His touch was so sensual, the look in his eyes admiring. She hadn’t felt desirable in so long.
She wanted him inside her.
She kneeled in order to drag her thong down and off, but she lost her balance, flailed awkwardly and fell onto him.
“Whoa!” He caught her and rolled her to her back, smiling. “You aren’t as graceful as you pretend.”
Carly clamped a hand over her eyes. This was ridiculous. What was wrong with her? She was twenty-eight, not eighteen. And even at eighteen she hadn’t fumbled sex as badly as she was tonight. First she’d insulted his fidelity, now this. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
The aggravating man chuckled more. “If it helps, I like you better this way.” She felt him tug her thong down to her ankles and off. Then, as she lifted her fingers away from her eyes, his hand traced a path up her leg, sending shivers along her skin.
Wait. She rose to her elbows and gripped his wrist. “So, you’re saying you didn’t like me before?”
“I didn’t say that. But maybe I like you a little more this way.”
“What way?”
“Relaxed. With your guard down.”
She let out a relieved breath. Relieved? Since when had she ever worried about being liked? Oh, who cared? He was caressing her hip, her stomach, and he’d leaned over to close his lips around one nipple, then moved his hand slowly down.
Her breathing faltered as he delved between her thighs with the exact right amount of pressure and an exquisite sense of timing. Much more of this and she’d be a goner for a second time. But she wanted him inside her when she came again. “Joe.” Was that her voice all husky and trembling?
“Hmm?” he answered around nibbling her other nipple, his unshaven jaw tickling her breast.
She gripped his shoulders. “Stop teasing me.”
He narrowed his eyes, but he was smiling. “Really? You have to boss me around even now?”
Boss him around? Is that how he saw her? She wasn’t demanding. She was begging. She was coming apart in his arms.
With a sigh, he rolled above her, pushed his erection against her hip and took possession of her mouth. She made approving noises, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hooked a leg over his thigh. “I’m not bossy I just know what I like.”
He chuckled against her lips and then pulled back long enough to grab a condom from his pocket before getting rid of his pants completely. “And this is what you like?”
She quirked a brow. “Yes, please.”
The way he looked at her, it was as if he knew how lonely she was, how scared she was to admit she needed someone. His gaze seemed to penetrate the layer of bravado she’d built around herself. As if he could see the real Carly.
“All right.” In a fluid motion he rolled on protection and fitted himself to her entrance. Then, with a satisfied groan he was where she wanted him. Needed him.
She gasped at the feel of him inside her. His head dropped to her neck as he began moving, thrusting at an angle and in a rhythm that made her say wicked things. She wasn’t usually verbal in her lovemaking, but she found herself murmuring, “Yes. Oh, yes. Oh, Joe,” over and over again.
The more she encouraged him, the faster and harder he thrust, building to a frenzy of pleasure. “Please.” Winding her fingers into his silky black hair, she nipped at his ear, as everything spun out of control. She cried out, clutching his back at the same time he froze above her. His muscles contracted beneath her hands as he made a low growling sound deep in his throat and pumped his hips one last time.
Neither of them moved for several minutes. She was still reveling in the best sex of her life. He was breathing heavily above her, but careful to keep his weight on his elbows. She almost wanted to pull him down and tell him it was okay, to relax, to touch his skin to hers, but that seemed too intimate. Too...emotional. And yet, she felt a niggling sense of happiness. As if things weren’t as dire as she’d always believed they were. She smiled and rubbed his back and he moaned and moved to her side. Air blew over her sweat-moistened skin and cooled her.
He rolled to his back and ran a hand through his hair. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” There. That sounded okay, didn’t it? Not too enthusiastic. She wasn’t gushing any more than he was.
But she wanted to. She wanted to roll over and press kisses all over his sexy, strong chest. How silly was that? She needed to get herself back under control. She should get up and head to the bathroom and tell him to find his own room now. And not to expect that this was going to happen again. Because it wasn’t. It couldn’t.
She had a photo shoot to supervise. This was the most important career opportunity of her life. If she blew this there wouldn’t be another. And Joe was as vital to her success. Not to mention she needed to maintain a professional relationship with him. Which meant she needed to make sure he understood tonight had been a one-off. Never again.
He rolled to face her, cupped her face in his hands and planted a kiss that promised he wasn’t anywhere near done. “Let’s do that again.”
She blinked and looked into his eyes, glinting with anticipation. “Okay.”
5 (#ulink_14cf7e4b-0759-5e68-ba98-e986c142344f)
AND TO THINK he hadn’t wanted to come on this cruise.
Joe stepped out of the taxi and scanned the scene before him. Whoa. No wonder the magazine had gone to so much trouble to get them to North Caicos Island. From Grand Turk they’d had to take a chartered plane to Providenciales and from there they’d had to hire half a dozen taxis to drive to this island.
But Joe had to admit it was worth it. This was paradise. They were on a high bluff overlooking a deserted beach. The palm trees and foliage lining the crescent-shaped beach looked like CGI for a movie. Turquoise water, gentle waves and smooth white sand. Give him a cold beer and he’d be in heaven.
Then Joe saw Carly emerge from a taxi pulling up behind his and revised that thought. Carly in his arms again would be his version of heaven.
She was wearing white capris and a brightly colored shirt cinched by a wide white belt. She wore strappy heels, of course, and all the perfect accessories. Her hair was up, with wispy tendrils falling loose around her face and down her neck. She should be posing for the magazine herself, she was always so perfectly put together.
Well, not always. Joe smiled, remembering her, just a few hours earlier, lying beside him gloriously naked, her arm bent holding her head in one hand, her knee bent in a provocative pose. Her skin had been damp with perspiration, her lips red and swollen from his kisses, and her eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. And despite the sated laziness his body had felt, he could’ve kept going if they hadn’t had to be ready to disembark in less than an hour.
But there was always tonight.
He grinned as he caught her eye. So much for getting a good night’s sleep, right? And if he had shown up “unkempt,” whose fault was that?
Carly didn’t return his smile. Her lips thinned and she spun to direct the lighting and camera crews to set up in front of the ruins of the main house up the path. Joe chuckled. She could pretend icy indifference all she wanted. He knew there was a fire burning in that woman that could scorch a guy if he didn’t know how to handle the flames. Luckily, he was a trained professional. Although maybe with Carly, he’d need some extra practice....
“This heat is unbearable.” Joe turned to see Piper stumble awkwardly from another taxi. She wore dark shades and a large floppy hat, and she started swatting madly at the mosquitoes buzzing about. “If I get bitten I’m going to sue someone.”
Carly had warned everyone on the plane about the mosquitoes and handed out a supply of bug repellant. Piper ordered her makeup assistant to apply it on her while she’d been waiting for the taxis. “Oh, this heat is intolerable!” Piper fanned herself with her hand. “Where are we? It looks like the middle of nowhere. Where’s the hotel? Is there not even a restroom? You!” She snapped her fingers at a poor assistant carrying cables and tripods down a dirt path. “Direct me to the nearest facilities.”
“Uh...” The unlucky gofer looked at Joe with pleading eyes.
Joe sighed. “Maybe you can think of this as an adventure.” He reached out to take her arm and lead her down the path. “The intrepid supermodel braving a primitive environment.”
“What rubbish.” Piper’s scowl remained as she snatched her sunglasses off and gazed around her. For the first time, he really examined the woman. Or girl, really. She couldn’t be more than twenty-two, twenty-three. She wore red short-shorts with a hot pink halter top. Her body was perfection. Full breasts and tiny waist, thin to the point of skeletal, taller than Carly. Her caramel skin and thick, straight black hair hinted at her exotic heritage.
“Piper. Joe.” Carly strode toward them, a pile of clothes draped over one arm. “These are your outfits for the shoot.” She led them down a worn path through dense foliage to a cornerstone with a two-story-tall chimney still standing. “There’s a mostly intact stone building this way where you can change, Piper.” She gestured to the right for Piper, and Joe to the left. “And another building this way for you, Joe.”
Joe took the clothes she handed him and winced. Tall black boots. Tight black jeans. And a crisp white shirt with gold cuff links. All with famous labels.
What was he supposed to be? A designer-wearing pirate? All he needed was the eye patch and parrot. He gritted his teeth and remembered his agreement. Mumbling a curse under his breath he yanked his T-shirt off and began unbuttoning his shorts. Just get this over with.
When he’d finished dressing he headed for the sound of Carly’s voice directing the crew. She’d set up the shoot at a half wall with the beach behind it. The stunning view behind these old ruins made for a great location. Carly really knew what she was doing. Joe paused to admire her.
Directing the cameraman and lighting crew, she wiped her temple with the back of her hand. She wasn’t complaining about the heat or the bugs. She had ambition and wasn’t afraid to work hard to get what she wanted.
He made his way to her side. “Where do you want me?” Though he’d meant the double entendre, he hadn’t meant to startle her.
She jumped and swiveled to face him, glaring. Then her gaze lowered down his body, slowly. She made a funny little sound, not quite a whimper, and swallowed as her gaze traveled back up and stopped at his chest. She licked her lips and then reached up and began unbuttoning the shirt. All the way down to the waistband of the jeans. “There.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She licked her lips and finally met his eyes. “Women are going to go crazy for this one.”
Disappointment thudded in his chest. Was that all he was to her? A commodity to sell magazines? Wait. Of course he was. Why had he begun to think otherwise? Just because he’d felt a connection with her last night? She was tough, but feminine. Assertive, disciplined, goal-oriented. And he wanted to get to know her better. She obviously didn’t share the sentiment. Hadn’t he learned anything from the break up with Lydia?
“Where’s Piper?” Carly sidestepped past him, heading in the direction of the ruins where she’d sent Piper to change. “Joe, go to Christoph for a little makeup, please?” she called over her shoulder.
Makeup. Great. But, hey. It beat having to deal with the diva. Joe didn’t envy Carly tha—
“Joe!” Carly’s terrified shriek had him racing toward her before he knew exactly where he was going. Was it a snake? Had she fallen down the cliff? His heart pounded double time picturing her injured, scared. He followed the path, rounded a corner and found her hunched over Piper, who was curled up in the corner of two crumbling walls, shaking, gasping for breath.
“She says she can’t breathe,” Carly offered.
He squatted and checked Piper’s pulse. Rapid, erratic. Her pupils were dilated. Not good.
“Any other symptoms?”
Carly shook her head, shrugging.
Joe cupped Piper’s face in his hands and spoke firmly. “Piper, look at me.”
The girl flinched, but her eyes met his.
“Does anything hurt?”
“M-my chest hurts.”
“Are you dizzy? Nauseated?”
She nodded.
“Were you bitten by anything?”
She shook her head. “I...don’t know. Don’t think so.”
“Have you eaten today? Taken any drugs?”
She turned her head, closed her eyes.
He glanced at Carly. “We have a first-aid kit?”
She nodded.
“Get it. And some water. Hurry.”
Carly got to her feet and took off at a sprint.
He turned his attention back to Piper. “Has this happened before?”
Between gasping for breaths she shook her head.
“Piper. Look at me.” He put a finger beneath her chin. “I want you to raise your arms above your head and take as deep a breath as you can, slowly, and then let it out slowly. Can you do that?”
Her panicked eyes stared into his a moment, then she blinked and nodded. Her breathing was already slowing.
He shifted his weight to one knee and gently lifted her arms. “Breathe in.”
She obeyed.
“Now breathe out.”
She followed his instructions and he repeated the breathing commands. Then Carly returned with the kit and the water. After several gulps Piper seemed back to normal.
“Is she going to be all right?” Carly asked Joe.
“I’m fine now. It’s this bloody heat.”
He checked Piper’s pulse again. Steady, only slightly fast. If his diagnosis was correct, she needed more than to cool off. “You should eat something.”
Piper shoved him away and got to her feet. “If you really want to help, find me an air-conditioned building.” She brushed dirt from her outfit, then grabbed her hat and sunglasses from the ground.
Joe took that as his cue to leave and headed back for the bluff. The witch was back to normal all right. Just because he was a trained paramedic didn’t mean she had to listen to him.
“Joe,” Carly called from behind him. He stopped and turned as she jogged up.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” He nodded. “She going to continue the shoot?”
“I asked her to see how she feels after she rests for a while.” She gestured down the path and he noticed she was carrying her high heels by the straps. “Piper insists it’s the heat.”
He raised his brows, highly doubting that was the problem. He remembered the way she’d gone all ashy-faced when he mentioned the word drugs and asked if she’d been drinking. With her reputation, who knew?
“What’s that look about?” Carly scrutinized his face. “You don’t believe her?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
She grabbed his arm before he could turn to go. “Wait. If there’s something going on that will affect my photo shoot, I need to know.”
Carly had a point. And her hand on his arm was like a cushioned vise. There was no tight grip, but it held him captive just the same. “Look, I’m not a medical doctor. This isn’t an official diagnosis. But, you might want to talk to Piper about panic attacks.”
“Panic attacks?” Hands on her hips, she spun from the waist to glance behind them, then faced front again. “I thought you were going to say something about drugs.”
“Could be stress-induced from a busy schedule, combined with the heat. Find out if she’s ever had an attack or received treatment for them before.”
“Wow.” She nodded, her expression still confused. “Okay, I’ll talk to her and try to keep a closer eye on her.” She pulled her sunglasses off, met his gaze and lifted her hand to his shoulder. “Really. Thank you.”
Joe gazed at her hand, then into her eyes. She licked her lips and swallowed and Joe studied the movements. Without stopping to think, he cupped her cheek and lowered his head. She stepped closer and raised her chin. Their lips almost touched.
“I cannot do this now,” Piper called, coming along the path. “I want to return to the ship.”
Carly jumped back and gave her attention to placating her supermodel.
It was going to be a long day.
* * *
PIPER BARELY MANAGED to keep her mask of indifference in place until she reached the line of taxis waiting in the road. She ordered the taxi driver to go away, and then climbed into the backseat and slowly drew her knees up to her chin.
Nandan. He should be with her. If only she hadn’t left him. Her brother had only been ten the last time she saw him.
Squeezing her eyes tight, she dug her nails into her palms. She heard her manager’s—Mrs. Henderson’s—clipped voice in her head. Stop crying!
She let out her breath on one last gulp. Then silence.
Mrs. Henderson had been right. Allowing herself to wallow in her emotions did not make her feel better. She felt worse. Weak. Foolish. And it solved nothing. She’d had private detectives searching for Nandan for more than five years. But it was as if he’d vanished from the earth.
The wind gusted in from the sea across the high bluff, blowing through the palm fronds. Seagulls squawked and other birds sang happy chirping songs. She wished she were a little bird and could fly away.
She set her jaw. If she let it, the guilt would swallow her whole like a boa swallowed a mouse. Then how would she help Nandan once she found him?
Sitting up, she wiped her cheeks and reached into her purse for the bottle of meds the doctor had prescribed for her. Back of the throat, easy swallow. She substituted the medicine bottle for her makeup bag.
A little repair work and she’d be as good as new.
She only hoped they’d believed her story about the heat.
6 (#ulink_6c66d6fc-aaaf-50bb-993a-a330982a5c39)
“YES. THOSE SHOULD work great. Let’s stop for the day.” Carly called to the crew, her voice echoing inside the large cavern. “Thank you, everyone.” She approached Piper. “I realize the cave terrain was rough, but you were fabulous.”
Piper shrugged. “I’m just glad we’re done. I need a drink. Where’s the nearest cantina?” She exited the cave with a swish of her flowing sheer orange cover-up. Her makeup and hair people followed in her wake like courtiers of a queen.

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