Читать книгу Hot For It - Melissa MacNeal - Страница 11

RUhot4it?

Got the villa on the private island, the 100’ yacht, offshore accounts out the wazoo, but nobody to play with? Me, too! Your privacy and pleasure are my top priorities! Cat@hot4it.com for pix, details.

Jack Spankevopoulos rubbed his eyes to reread the ad. It had jumped out at him with a power all its own—an energy that zinged through his system, even though it was four in the morning and he was dog tired from last night’s madness. Here in his crow’s-nest office, high above the decks of the Captive Fantasy, all was finally quiet after three female passengers got too drunk and too mouthy. He’d nearly had a mutiny! Even though it was his damn ship!

He blamed it on the full moon, still riding high, just as he blamed his restlessness on that fickle princess of the night. All the nut cases signed on around this time of the month. Should he call a halt to these pirate abduction vacations? A man could only stand so much. A captain shouldn’t have to endure such foul language and manners, not to mention the stench that lingered on the decks after his passengers yarked up their rum punch. Then they blamed him that they weren’t having a good time!

But this Cat woman must be a breed apart, to flaunt her financial status and still be looking for a man. Or was she just butt ugly? And where in the world was she? Those who knew about the Escape Artist sites might hail from anywhere—and then relocate to somewhere else very quickly, depending on who they were hiding from and why. Jack clicked her URL to take a look at her.

“Sweeeeet baby,” he breathed, stunned by her windblown blond hair and arched eyebrows and that soft, sexy smile. “If this is really you, dear lady, it’s time Captain Jack jumped ship. I could vacation in the paradise of your sea-green eyes for a loooooong time.”

He clicked the e-mail link and then realized he needed a response as alluring as her come-on. No doubt he’d land in her box—and wasn’t that a titillating thought!?—with hundreds of other famished men looking to ravish a tidbit like this one.

As Jack pondered potential witticisms, a techno-tinny version of “Sixteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest” made him reach for his phone. When he saw the name in the ID window, he set the infernal thing aside. Studied that ad again…your privacy and pleasure are my top priorities!

And when had that ever happened? Certainly not with the whiny-ass bitch who’d called him just now. Jack collected his thoughts, fingers poised over his laptop keyboard to—

The phone rang again, and he nearly tossed it out his window. Of course Maria Palaveras would call him in the wee hours during the full moon—which she’d no doubt been howling at naked from her lot in the trailer court. He thumbed the button to let her talk: he often set the phone aside while she ranted, and she never knew the difference.

“Jack! Answer me, damn it! I knew you were there, and you didn’t pick up!”

He rubbed his eyes wearily.

“I was calling to see how you were, but no!” her shrill voice escalated, “you couldn’t spare a few moments of your precious time playing pirate to talk to an old friend in her hour of need.”

Sighing, Jack took the bait. To get rid of her faster. “And hello to you, too, Maria,” he replied, caressing the words to irritate her. “What can your old whipping boy Jack do for you at four in the morning, my pretty?”

“Oh, stop it right there! Is it any wonder I walked out on you? All you ever thought about was—”

A woman who could have a good time. And who talked like she had a brain in her head.

“—business! As though I would ever consider those pirate ships and your stupid love-slave vacation a way to make a decent living! Why, I—”

I have manacles and a gag in your size, honey. Should’ve used them while I had the chance.

“—was hoping you’d seen the light,” she said, stopping to gulp air, “and would consider coming home soon. I promised you’d always have a place with me. And while I might be a little scattered, I am a woman of my word!”

Jack stared at his phone as though it were an alien life form. He considered his answer: if he set his ex live-in straight about why they’d parted ways, she’d pitch another fit. And he sure as hell wouldn’t consider moving in with her. He’d learned that lesson the hard way during the months she’d spent aboard the Captive Fantasy. Big mistake, letting her do that.

“While I appreciate your offer—and your integrity,” he added with the merest edge of sarcasm, “I’m still the captain of my own ship, dear heart. I own a fleet of party boats along with the Captive Fantasy, so I couldn’t possibly come to—”

“See there? I asked you nicely and you didn’t consider my invitation for the blink of an eye! Jack!” she whined.

He closed his eyes, anticipating Maria’s change of tactic. First came the lower, slyer, more suggestive undertones; the begging and pleading. Then she’d cry and threaten to do herself harm—the red flags that told him she’d gone off her meds again. He would never wish bipolar disorder on anyone, but damn! It left him in a helluva fix, feeling responsible for her even though he was sailing the Caribbean as a pretend pirate. Not the kind who’d intentionally ruin anyone’s life.

Her sigh slithered out of the phone. “Jaaaaack,” she cooed, “Spank, honey, you knoooooow how good we were together. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy every soft, sultry inch of this fine body—”

She had that part right, but he wasn’t buying in this time. Footsteps made him swivel his chair, to be sure one of those mouthy passengers hadn’t climbed to his crow’s-nest hideaway. When Stavros, his cousin and first mate, stepped in, he rolled his eyes and pointed to the phone. Then he held it out with his hand over the mouthpiece so the wheedling filled the small office.

“Mad Maria?” Stavros muttered. He raked his sun-bleached sorrel hair into rough spikes. “What the hell does she want?”

“I’m guessing her latest boyfriend moved out, and she has no one else to rag on,” Jack replied quietly.

“—and you know how good it was when we spent all night fucking and all day sleeping in each other’s arms,” she reminded him urgently. “We could have that again, Jackie. You could be my captain again, and—”

“You’re not considering that, surely?” Stavros asked.

Jack scowled. “One of us is insane, but it’s not me!”

“Then tell her you’ve got a life! Another woman! Hey—sometimes a little white lie’s the loving thing to do.”

“Jack? Jack! You’ve not listened to a thing I’ve said for—”

He ogled the photo he’d enlarged to fill his laptop screen, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that plan! “Maria, honey, I know how you miss me—how you miss us,” he added softly, “but there’s someone else in my life now. We both agreed to move on, remember?”

When she sucked air he thought his ear might go through the phone. “Another woman?” she whined, shifting into her pathetic mode.

“Well, certainly not another man,” he replied, even if it was overkill.

“So why didn’t you tell me? But no! You had to let me humiliate myself by groveling—”

“And when have I had a chance to get a word in edgewise?” He pulsed with purpose now: his cousin’s plan was the lifeline he needed! No lies, white or otherwise. “I’m going to hang up now, Maria. I wish you all the best—and if you’re off your meds, I sincerely hope you’ll get back on them,” he advised in the fatherly tone he reserved for such times. “Not a man on this earth can resist your charms when you’re in control of your game plan, Maria. But don’t call me again, all right? I’m not your Jackie Spank anymore.”

“But I—”

Snap. He folded his phone and let out a relieved sigh. “You’re a genius, Stavros. I can’t think straight once Maria gets going on—”

“And you can with that magnificent blonde gazing out from your computer?” The slender Greek studied the image, a sly smile stealing across his angular features. “So, you gonna introduce me, cuz, or do I have to—”

“Haven’t met her yet, but I’m about to.” Jack’s gut fluttered as he said this. “Her name’s Cat—”

“Yeah, right. Let’s just call her Pussy Galore.”

“—and she owns an island, a villa, a yacht—and is looking for a playmate on that same level,” he continued, reviewing these facts to spark his own creative response.

“She paid a model to pose for that photo, then! Don’t tell me you’re resorting to matchmaking ads for—” Stavros stared him down, incredulous. “Jack, those things are for losers! If this chick’s got all the stuff she claims, why’s she hunting for a guy? There’s a problem we can’t see here! Maybe something as serious—or just plain annoying—as finding out about Mad Maria’s mental disorders.”

“She’s bipolar, Stav. She can’t help it that—”

“She’s using it to keep you on the string. She’s that smart, anyway.”

Jack gave his cousin a pointed look. “And she’s behind me now. The longer it takes to get my reply e-mailed, the more fishes will be snapping at Cat’s bait. Get it?”

Stavros muttered something and turned to go.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “That was rude and uncalled for. Why’d you come up?”

The man whose features resembled his, but in a skinnier size, smiled with that European sense of sexy women flocked to. “Saw your light on. Wondered why you weren’t sleeping, after our catastrophe last night.”

“Thank you. But if I have my way about it, I won’t be getting much sleep once I meet Miss Kitty here, either.” He grinned despite eyes that were stinging with fatigue and a head that still throbbed from Maria’s call. “But we must all make our sacrifices, right?”

“Whatever it takes to get laid, Captain. Let me know how I can help.”

When the door closed and the crow’s nest was his again, Jack drew in a deep breath. He tried to imagine the scent of this luscious woman…how those glossed lips would taste and then feel…as they closed around his cock. God, he hoped she was the kind who’d do that for him.

He was rock hard. Closed his eyes and coaxed his brain cells north again. Summoned some bravado and then let the words pour onto the screen.

Best not to ramble or get his hopes up. Best to answer to her lead, far as why he met her prerequisites, and hope to hell he didn’t sound like some desperate braggart of a weenie looking for a fire to roast himself in.