Читать книгу Taming The Tabloid Heiress - Michele Dunaway - Страница 12

The long sip of cool water that slid easily down his parched throat felt good, but it did little to quench the thirst he now felt for Kit O’Brien. Joshua mentally cursed himself. He wanted privacy, not to be plastered all over tomorrow’s tabloids as Kit O’Brien’s newest Lothario. What had possessed him to dance with her? There was simply no excuse for his impulsive behavior. He knew better than to be attracted to a woman not his type, and he had stopped acting like a dog in heat when he was a teenager.

Worse, flashbulbs had popped during their dance, and Joshua knew several tabloids had reporters on board.

Play with fire, get burned. His father would tell him he still hadn’t learned.

Rumors held that Kit O’Brien had men lined up in the wings. From her flippant attitude, something about “fish in the sea,” he knew her reputation had to be true. Damn her for doing this to him. Joshua averted his gaze away from watching Kit fend off her tablemates’ questions, and he willed himself to put her behind him. Just because he wanted her didn’t mean anything. A realist knew he couldn’t have everything he wanted, and Joshua had long ago learned to give up on wishful fantasies.

Still, his body craved how hers had pressed against his, and he shifted in discomfort. He had danced with her to erase her from his mind. Again one of his ideas backfired. He grimaced and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, and stole a look at his watch. Nine-thirty. At least another hour of this farce until he could escape without incurring Bill’s wrath.

“Marilyn!”

Joshua looked up to see Tatiana Terranova, the diva of Last Frontier, greeting a reporter with an exaggerated flourish.

“Tatiana!” Marilyn Roth from Television Today breezed over and took a vacant seat next to Joshua. “I’m sorry I’m late. You look ravishing. Is that a Viscountie?”

“Absolutely. You know how much I love his clothes. He makes a woman look so beautiful.” Tatiana’s red lips widened in a broad smile that revealed all of her teeth. For some reason Joshua had always hated Tatiana’s teeth, but he didn’t know why. Still, the woman who had just sat down filled him with more revulsion than Tatiana’s teeth ever had.

“Hello, Joshua.” Marilyn pouted. Joshua’s fist clenched and he made a show of drinking from his water bottle so he couldn’t speak. Even now it was hard for him to believe he had once found Marilyn pretty. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Marilyn had taught him that women always had ulterior motives. They either used a man or wanted to drag out the old ball and chain and head for the closest chapel.

Marilyn’s blood-red nails picked at the white tablecloth. Undaunted by Joshua’s snub she continued to speak. “You’re looking well, Joshua. But the years have always been kind to you, haven’t they? Anyway, darling, when shall we do that interview Bill promised me? I’m looking so forward to the exclusive on your next career moves.”

Joshua’s head snapped up. “Surely you’ve got to be kidding.”

He fingered his bottled water and looked for an escape. He had been young and naive when he first met her, not realizing Marilyn’s true intentions until almost too late. The woman was a walking piranha, only interested in her next scoop, and there wasn’t much she wouldn’t do to obtain it. He turned to face the woman who had given him his first glimpse at what a nightmare the press could be.

“You’re always so pleasant with me, Joshua.” Marilyn didn’t seem too perturbed at Joshua’s comment. “I’m sure once you realize—”

His lips thinned in anger. “I’m sure Tatiana will be happy to give you any information you need about Last Frontier. She’s starring in the spin-off, you know.”

“Tatiana’s not you, darling.” Marilyn drew herself up and thrust her chest forward, the front of her gown gaping a little. Joshua focused on an empty glass the next table over. “Besides, Bill promised me that you would cooperate this time. This spread is important to him. He needs it to launch the spin-off. Joshua, don’t you owe it to your creation?”

“Not really. I have nothing to do with the spin-off, and that’s the way I want it.” Joshua glanced over to where he had last seen Kit. His fingers tightened on his water bottle. He didn’t see her. Had she left? Then, as some women moved past, she came into view. Joshua let his breath out slowly. Kit was holding an animated conversation with one of her tablemates and some man also standing by the table. Joshua eyed the dance floor, seeing that the other women she’d been with were dancing, quite badly he noted, to an eighties dance mix.

Joshua inhaled sharply as Kit pushed her hair back from her face. Such a simple movement, yet all of his nerve endings tingled. He watched her face. She smiled, and his chest constricted. As she laughed at something the man said, Joshua’s gut tightened. He wasn’t sure he liked the way the guy was looking at her. But it wasn’t his problem. Kit and what she did with her life wasn’t his concern.

Yet when Kit shook her head, her strawberry-blond hair danced about her chin, and his throat went dry. Air. He could do with air.

Suddenly Kit stood up, whispered something to the man, grabbed her purse and left the table. After waiting a respectable minute the man followed.

“Joshua, are you okay, darling?” Marilyn’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion evident. “You haven’t heard a word I said.”

“I’m not your darling, Marilyn, and I never listen to what you say. Excuse me, I need to work the crowd.” Joshua stood up just in time to see Kit heading out the exit door, the man on her heels. That woman needed a keeper. Marilyn’s look of fury wasn’t lost on him, but he ignored her and strode off.

KIT THREADED HER WAY through the crowd, going past the exit that led to inside hallways. She stopped in the ladies’ room just long enough to convince the man that when she said good-night, she meant good-night. Upon leaving her hideout, she climbed the outside steps to the Compass Deck. A gentle breeze played havoc with her short hair, and Kit walked to one railing and looked down at the netted and empty pool. Tomorrow it would be full and active with people.

Still exploring, she turned and walked to the stern railing. From the heights of the highest deck she could see the ship’s foamy wake. Kit inhaled the fresh night air teasing her face. At least today wasn’t a total loss. She was at sea.

The ocean waves lapping against the shore of her parents’ Long Island house were one of her earliest and favorite memories. As the midnight-blue ocean churned playfully with the boat’s wake and created white foam, Kit reveled in the soothing peacefulness that reminded her of home. Night created a blanket of black and starry white, which was swallowed where it touched the horizon.

A childhood memory claimed her suddenly, and impulsively Kit looked up and focused on the first star her gaze landed on. “Starlight, star bright, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” She whispered the words aloud and then mentally added the rest. “I need to get my father off my back. I need a break.”

Kit sighed and slowly exhaled. Cinderella thought a dream was a wish your heart made, but Kit had learned those didn’t come true, either, despite her mother’s insistence to the contrary.

As a tear slid silently down her cheek, Kit impatiently pushed it away. “Mom? Did I really tell you someday I would marry my prince?” She whispered to herself with a sad smile. How far away those days seemed, and how ironic that being at sea made her think of her childhood and home.

Her mother had loved the elegant, gilded, aged house on Long Island more than any co-op or town house, and so her father had commuted daily to the city. Ever since her mother’s death three years ago the house had been shuttered, and Kit had been confined to the high-rises of New York City. She missed Summerset house and the Oyster Bay seashore.

And I miss you, Mom, she thought. A movement to her left made her start.

“Hey, you aren’t planning on jumping, are you? I’m afraid I have no desire to take off my boots.” The low, husky, already too-familiar voice made her shoulders tense. Broken from her reverie, Kit turned to face Joshua Parker.

A few feet to her left, he leaned against the rail with ease. In spite of herself Kit gave a short laugh.

“You aren’t wearing boots.”

“Ah, well maybe that’s why I didn’t write the screenplay to Titanic.” He smiled, and Kit’s eyes narrowed at his sudden change of attitude. “Too much icy cold water.”

“Really?” She parried easily. “I would have thought it was because you didn’t understand the notion of class. And, despite my having a very bad day, you won’t get rid of me that easily. I’ve got no desire to take a swim. A jerk like you isn’t worth drowning over.”

“Oui.” Joshua grinned and came to stand beside her. “The furious lady in the little black dress has a temper. By the way, that is a great dress. Definitely très séduisante. Anyway, I digress. I came up here to tell you I’ve been a cad, and therefore I humbly apologize.”

Kit peered up at him and couldn’t tell if he was serious. His brown eyes appeared as fathomless as the water churning beneath the boat. Although his gaze revealed nothing, when her eyes connected with his, a small chill of anticipation ran up and down her spine.

“What’s the catch? Let me guess. You saw me crying and now you’re trying to be nice. Don’t bother pitying me. I don’t believe it, and I don’t need it.”

“Ah, that one tear so angrily brushed away,” Joshua mused. “Such a noble yet sad gesture. You can admit your weaknesses to me, Kit. After flying with you, I’m discovering that perhaps you hide behind that bad attitude you wear like armor. In truth, you’re probably a very sensitive person beneath all those outrageous antics you do for charity.”

“Excuse me? Not only do you read about me, you follow me out here to psychoanalyze me?” She drew herself up to her full five-foot-eight-inch height. “Look, Freud, go find someone else to torture with your psychobabble.”

The light breeze caressed through his long, sexy hair and he clucked his tongue slightly. “Ah, good old Freud. We studied him in college, but let’s not bring him into the moonlight with us, shall we?”

Kit simply rolled her eyes in exasperation. The man was impossible. First he was pushing her away, and then he was following her and teasing her in the moonlight.

“By the way, my name is Joshua.” Joshua reached up and pushed his hair away from his face. “We never really did introduce ourselves.”

Kit wondered if it was the wind caressing her hair that sent the quiver down her spine, or if it was the deep, meaningful look that accompanied Joshua’s dare to use his name. “Look, Joshua—” Kit emphasized his name “—I’m not getting involved with you.”

“Ah, she speaks my name.” He grinned, ignoring her statement as he stepped towards her.

When his body invaded her space she made motion to step backward, out from under the force of his magnetism, but her feet stalled. Her body lodged itself against the deck rail, the steel oddly warming the bare skin of her back.

“After holding you close and realizing I liked it, I promised myself that you would dance with me again. Finally a lady that needs nothing from me, and I nothing from her. Only the pleasure of two consenting adults.” Joshua’s brown eyes glittered dangerously as he dangled the bait.

“Look, you don’t know me or why I’m here.”

“I know all I need to know.”

The breeze raised the hairs on her bare arms, causing her to shiver. The spaghetti-strap dress that had seemed appropriate earlier now was proving otherwise. Kit rubbed her biceps. “Sorry to disappoint you. My dance card’s full. Seems I have a bum foot, and one dance is all it could handle. I guess you’ll just have to get yourself another girl. I’m sure someone else will oblige, you being such a big celebrity and all.”

“But what if I don’t want anyone else?” His voice was liquid velvet, and Kit felt it caress her like a feather. “What if I want you?”

Ooh-la-la! Her body shouted. Control! Her conscience shouted. It won.

“Then I guess you have a problem, don’t you?”

“What about your problem? Shouldn’t you give in to your own wants?”

Was she that readable? “You can go to—” She paused before she spit out the unladylike curse words. “I have principles!”

“I was beginning to wonder.” A small, pleased smile teased the edges of his lips, erasing his cynical look. The result was sensual. “It’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, right. You’re changing your tune. Are pigs flying?” Kit’s voice let him know how much she believed his statement. She shivered and rubbed her arms again.

Joshua moved even closer, and Kit’s heart began to flutter. “You’ve intrigued me, Kit O’Brien. I want to dig beneath your surface and discover what makes you tick.”

“Now who’s bringing Freud into it? What gives you the right to analyze me?” The wind teased at the black chiffon hem, and she angrily pushed it down.

“Ah, you worry. Your hidden secrets wouldn’t be for public consumption. Just mine. Every single delicious and decadent thing would remain just between us.”

Kit could have sworn his brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight. At that moment she felt the strangest longing wash over her. The power Joshua Parker held over her froze her, enticed her. All he had to do was stand near her and she lost the control she was trying so hard to keep. Her heart raced, her legs weakened and her resistance melted. Desire flowed through her, sending another chill of wanton anticipation down her spine.

“Cold? Let’s get you warmed up.” Strong fingers found her upper arms and he rubbed his palms across her skin. The friction he created did more than simply warm. At his touch Kit felt an inferno burn through her. Her body acted on its own volition. Her back arched, and her knees folded as he pulled her to him. He crushed her to his warm, broad chest, and Kit’s body fused to it as if preordained to fit. He stood only four inches taller, and with her heels it was shortened to two. Her chin lifted as the last bit of her stubborn pride shattered.

“You’re a dangerous man, Joshua Parker.”

Joshua’s comeback failed him, and with a groan he lowered his mouth and claimed hers. The sensation of his touch sent a current through her, setting off bells of pleasure resounding in her head. His grip tightened, and he pulled her even deeper into his arms. His full lips seared hers, branding her.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he murmured, his mouth again descending to possess hers. Kit yielded to his delightful plunder, all conscious and rationale thought fleeing at his simple caress. He pressed his tongue against her teeth, inviting himself in, and Kit’s knees wobbled as her body ceded all resistance.

The call of his tongue caressing the roof of her mouth robbed her of any remaining sanity. With an ardor she didn’t know she possessed, Kit responded to his kiss as she had to no other. Her arms snaked around his neck and into the long, silky locks that tantalized her fingers. Her tongue ventured forth to mate and dance with his in the ritual as old as time.

Joshua’s right hand slid under her chin as he deepened their kiss, and a wanton moan escaped her as he slid his left forefinger under the spaghetti strap of her dress and playfully stroked her shoulder. Kit now understood what someone meant when she said the earth shook and the world exploded.

Fireworks detonated inside her head, and lights flashed around her as Joshua’s kiss deepened even further.

“Well, well, well. I’d say you’re certainly working on fan relations.”

The high-pitched voice shattered the beauty of the moment, and Kit pulled away, the back of her hand automatically wiping her swollen lips.

Joshua’s grip tightened on her arm, and she jerked free. One woman Kit recognized as being a cast member of Last Frontier, but the other woman discreetly slipping a digital camera into her cavernous bag caused Kit to worry. Press. Instinctively she knew it. Her father was going to kill her if that photo was published.

“You’ll pay for this, Marilyn.”

“I,” Kit began, but the words escaped her so she simply snatched her purse and walked off in the direction of the stairs.

Joshua’s fury knew no bounds as he watched Kit disappear down the outside stairs, her black scarf trailing like a kite. Neck muscles bulged as he checked his rage.

Marilyn gave Joshua a wry smile as she lit up a cigarette and handed the lighter to Tatiana. “I just needed a smoke and the sun deck is just a little too popular. I mean, it’s just out the Topsider’s doors. And, of course, you know how fans follow Tatiana everywhere.”

Marilyn exhaled slowly and deliberately as she sized up Joshua. “Besides, Bill’s been looking for you.” With absolutely no concern or fear of Joshua’s anger at her intrusion, Marilyn flipped cigarette ashes over the rail.

“I told him that last I knew you were working the room. I would say that you were working it pretty fast. Looking for a better offer? Well, she’s an easy little thing.”

Joshua refused to dignify Marilyn with an answer. Defending Kit would be unwise. Anything he said to Marilyn would be twisted to her advantage. He shoved two fists into his pants pockets and scowled as Marilyn inhaled again.

As she blew out another stream of smoke, Joshua gazed at her mouth for a moment, wondering how she could pollute it. Then again, she always polluted something. The front-page trash she’d written about Joshua under her pseudonym Mary Lynn had cost his father his dream, but Marilyn didn’t care who she hurt. She had called Joshua a simpleton, laughed at his fury and moved on to her next victim.

He glared at Marilyn and Tatiana as they blocked his path, inwardly raging at them for destroying the kiss of a lifetime. Kit’s kiss had been fresh, tantalizing. He had explored her mouth with abandon, finding the mixture of wine and honey so delicious he had lost control. Never had he tasted such sweetness.

Ire and revulsion filled Joshua, at himself for degrading Kit, and at Marilyn for having the gall to make snide comments. He watched Marilyn flip the cigarette butt over the railing despite the signs posted indicating otherwise.

“You know, I might be wrong, but there’s something really familiar about your—” Marilyn deliberately searched for a delicate word “—companion. What did you say her name was?”

Joshua’s irritation reached a crescendo. He refused to confirm Marilyn’s fishing expedition. He’d wasted enough time. He needed to find Kit.

“I don’t think she wanted to be introduced to you. She’s got class.” Joshua purposely ignored Marilyn’s next tasteless comment as he pushed past her and headed for the stairs that led down to the club. Still he had heard her comment and it burned in his ears.

“That’s all right, darling. I’m well aware of who Kit O’Brien is. You’re right, she is classy. So classy she always rates the front page. See you in the papers.”

Joshua’s eyes blazed in fury as he threw open the door to the brightly lit interior passageway. With a final curse he set off after Kit.

ONCE IN HER ROOM, Kit threw her purse down on the neatly turned-down bed and sat down with an agitated thump. The mint carefully placed by the cabin steward on her pillow went flying. What was she thinking? What had she been doing? Two black shoes hit the floor and slid under the bed as she reached up under the black dress and hooked her fingers into her pantyhose. Kit removed the silky sheers and sent them flying under the bed with a vicious kick. Standing again, Kit assessed the damage to her face in the mirror over the sink.

Her lips looked as if they had been thoroughly kissed. Wait, who was she trying to fool? They had been thoroughly kissed. Her knees still wobbled from the way his mouth felt. She gently touched her puffy lips, remembering the way his lips had pressed down, possessing her. She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling how his tongue had searched her entire mouth, claiming it for himself. Kit’s eyelids flew open, and she stared at the reflection of her eyes in the mirror. Makeup remover. She needed makeup remover. Kit turned and found her toiletries case and brought it to the sink. With almost robotic movements she began to cleanse her face.

“Kit?” Kit heard Georgia’s voice as the door to the cabin opened a crack.

“I’m in here,” Kit called, splashing cool water on her face to remove the last of the soap.

Georgia stepped into the room. “Are you okay? Everyone’s headed to the theater, and I was worried about you. You never returned. Is it your ankle? Do I need to wrap it for you?”

“I’m just really tired. I’ve had only a few hours of sleep lately, and I’ve just hit my wall.” A small, tight smile accompanied her little white lie.

Georgia nodded sagely. “I understand, sugar. Eventually the body just drops.”

“Exactly.” Kit nodded. “So don’t worry about me. I’ll be asleep when you get back. Enjoy the show and the buffet. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to go?”

“No, go and have a great time.” Kit reassured Georgia again and reached for her dental floss. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Georgia reached for the door handle. “You know, I can’t believe how good Joshua Parker looked tonight! I know you think I’m crazy to like the writer better than the actors, but, ooh, sugar, in most cases the fantasies are better than the reality, y’know? But not with Joshua Parker. The reality is definitely much better. Wouldn’t you agree? Anyway, they’re showing the two-part series finale in the theater tonight, so, if you’re sure you don’t want to go…” Georgia’s voice trailed off, her desire to leave evident. Kit gave Georgia a resigned smile.

“Good night, Georgia. I’m sure I don’t want to go. I’ll catch the shows when they finally air on TV.” Kit wrapped the floss around her fingers. As the door clicked, Kit faced herself in the mirror again. A half smile teased at her cheek. She didn’t have any fantasies where Joshua Parker was concerned. But the reality…Kit’s green eyes suddenly tormented her from the mirror.

He had ravaged her with just one kiss, a kiss she had been powerless to stop. Fireworks had exploded in her brain, sending her catapulting out of control. Wine, sea air, a starry sky, and Kit had been putty in his hands. Joshua Parker had possessed her with just a kiss. Where was her New York City aloofness and disdain? Such a foreign feeling—no one had ever evoked the level of passion that Joshua drew from Kit in one dynamic kiss. In fact, she had dumped dog food over Blaine for a lesser sin—announcing their engagement—which was why she was hiding on the cruise in the first place.

Makeup removed and teeth brushed, Kit slipped out of the black dress and dropped it into a heap on top of her bunk. Frustrated, she flipped on the television set. The ship was running Last Frontier reruns non-stop, and she sat down to watch an episode. Kit didn’t understand the premise of the show, that man had conquered dimensional space and time travel, yet man had still not bettered his primeval ways. Throw in a couple of aliens and outer planetary beings, and the whole show somehow came together into a fast-paced, special-effects wonderland that had quickly become a cult sci-fi classic.

Kit turned off the television set. All she had learned was that the drifters were a group of people who wandered through time and other dimensions doing good deeds until their lives expired, whatever that meant. She still didn’t know which actor she was interviewing, either. Kit stared around the cabin and turned on the TV again. For a moment she thought she saw Joshua in a Hitchcock-like cameo.

He was wearing black, and the color suited him, giving him the sleekness of a panther. Watching his body move for just the few seconds he was on screen only heightened her awareness of how his body had felt under her touch. With a resigned shudder Kit turned off the TV and glanced at her watch. It was just now eleven, and Kit knew that all the LaFrofans were in the theater one deck below watching the screening of the last two episodes.

Like a caged tiger Kit paced the room in her silken pajamas, too on edge to sleep. Finally she yanked off her pajamas and, with a determined fierceness, dressed in a pair of flowing black pants, a white silk top and a matching black jacket.

She was not going to hide in her cabin. She was Kit O’Brien, by God, and she had weathered much worse unsavory press than being caught kissing someone. She pushed the thought of her father’s reaction out of her head. She could deal with him later. Compared to Joshua Parker and the illicit thoughts she had of him, her father would probably be the easier of the two. With newfound determination to get Joshua Parker out of her head, Kit slipped her feet into plain black skimmers, ran a brush through her hair, grabbed her purse and headed toward the casino.