All Night Long. Melissa MacNeal
was one of the things you adored about him. A risk-taker, just like you, babe!
But she couldn’t sit here all night, beating herself up.
And, as Lola thought about it, the credit card rep had said she’d get right on it: stop payment on those charges, to keep her credit rating from going down the toilet with the whoosh of a cruise ship flush button. It would take some time, considering the amount of damage Dennis had done, but everyone was on her side. They weren’t blaming her for all those bills, or holding her accountable for her poor choice of financial managers.
She was a free woman.
Well, she’d been left in a very expensive predicament, but her problem was gone now, wasn’t he? And his funds had been cut off. Dennis Fletcher could sponge off that floozy from Aruba now: sweet talk her with the same pretty lines he’d used while they planned this cruise.
I’m free—unattached! And I kept my trophy diamond!
The sparkle of the rock on her left hand made Lola smile. She wouldn’t be the only patsy. She wasn’t the only fool who’d fallen for the illusion of love or for a shyster’s lies. Someday that vixen with the villa would be in a world of hurt, too.
She let out the breath she’d been holding. Automatically reached down to where she would’ve set her purse, and then rolled her eyes at this habitual gesture.
Habits! Who needed them? Maybe it was time to break a few—and pick up some new ones while she was on this trip. After all, it was paid for before they left home. It was her trip, and by God she might as well enjoy what was left of it!
After all, I’m free now! A single woman on an adults-only cruise!
Lola’s pulse picked up and she stood—tummy tucked, shoulders back, head held high! If she couldn’t enjoy a fantasy situation like this, well, she did have a problem. And it had nothing to do with money.
4
When she stepped out into Kingsley’s desk area, the concierge was talking in hushed tones with Rio DeSilva and another dashing man in dress whites. The three turned with encouraging smiles—which meant they’d been talking about her.
See there? You ARE important enough that the most gallant, handsome men aboard this ship—
Lola’s jaw dropped. The man in the uniform of blinding white, with the Mediterranean tan and laugh lines, and that raven hair laced with silver, was none other than Captain Scandalous! He was even more of a Greek god in person than on TV. And he was smiling at her. Drinking her in with obsidian eyes that sparkled with plans!
“Miss Wright, let me express my regrets for the unfortunate situation Mr. Fletcher has left you in,” he crooned, oozing with ambiance as he offered his hand. “Captain Skorpio Skandalis. Pleased to meet you, despite such unfortunate circumstances.”
Lola felt his warm hands enfolding—no, enslaving—hers. “Captain Scandalous! I mean—Skahn-DAH—it’s such a pleasure to—so not me to be this—”
His midnight eyes lit up with mirth. And why wouldn’t they? Could she turn any more shades of red or trip over her tongue any faster?
“You are understandably upset,” he assured her, still holding her hand captive between his. “But you surely realize that we must have a plan to pay for the items Mr. Fletcher charged in the ship’s shops and—”
What was wrong with this picture? With a firm tug, Lola freed her hand from the captain’s.
“Wait a minute! You think I planned to get ripped off?” she retorted. “After I finally convinced Fletcher to come on this trip—and to set a wedding date!—and I arranged to be away from my business for eight days—”
The men’s smiles were tightening, probably because guests were parading by in their finery, on the way to the Captain’s Gala Reception. Lola paused, to pull her foot from her mouth again.
“I’m sorry. I detest women who make a scene, or who whine and play helpless,” she said in a lower tone. “But dammit, I didn’t come on this cruise to get broadsided by a jerk who’s allergic to commitment—and who’s run off with a woman he just met! Not to mention a helluva lot of my money!”
“Please, Miss Wright,” the concierge said, his eyes shining like a summertime sky. “Fantasy Cruise Line understands such emergencies, and I’m sure we can work these matters out. Now that we’ve reported the theft of your credit cards—”
“If you could create the man of your fantasies, who would he be, Lola?”
She sucked air at the intensity of Rio DeSilva’s topaz gaze. His voice soothed her like warm, sweet brandy. Such a question came like a bolt from the blue—an outrageous question, from a man she’d met just today!
But he was serious. He was still focused on her, standing tall yet relaxed; just his presence suddenly settled all the conflicts about Fletch and her credit cards. Or at least she forgot all about them as her lips parted and she returned his soulful gaze.
This wasn’t idle chitchat he was making. He expected an answer! And with three handsome men in uniform watching her, Lola sensed she’d better come up with something coherent.
If you could create the man of your fantasies, who would he be, Lola?
It didn’t help that the captain and the concierge were smiling expectantly, as though they could see through their cohort’s ploy—and her silky robe, as well. As though they might decide their course of action after hearing her reply to Rio DeSilva’s loaded question.
She blinked, tugging her lapels together. She was a free woman now, so she could answer this security agent’s question any way she liked, right? So why not lay it all out? These three heroes of the high seas might as well know exactly what she expected of any male she might create!
“I want a man who’ll make a home and a family with me,” she replied in a thoughtful murmur. “A man who’ll be king of his castle and treat me like a queen. His queen.”
Rio’s sensual mouth softened with a wistful smile.
“A refreshing revelation, in this day and age,” he replied with a nod. “And what man wouldn’t want to build his world around you, Lola? To lavish his love upon you in a hundred ways each day? But surely there’s more.”
Lola’s eyes widened. Why had they gone from discussing repayment plans to writing a script for Fantasy Island? Would the floor open up and send her swooping down a chute into the open sea, if she said the wrong thing? Captain Scandalous and Mr. Kingsley looked like guys who played by Old World rules. She’d better beware of stepping on their chivalrous yet chauvinistic toes with that attitude Fletch had always ragged her about.
And why don’t you just play along? the voice in her head piped up.
It’s your vacation, remember? A girl doesn’t get many chances to make men LOOK—and here’s yours, honey!
“Well—since this is a fantasy, after all,” she went on in a bolder tone, “I want a man who respects my intelligence and business savvy! A life partner who understands that I must work very hard to maintain my accounts and my professional reputation!”
Her heart was pounding now, her need for nicotine overridden by Rio’s invitation to dream big!
“A man who enjoys my success as well as his own,” she added emphatically. “Yet he’ll cuddle me when the chips are down, and—and help me believe in myself again!”
The area behind the crescent information desk rang with a silence so profound, it blocked out the sounds of the well-dressed crowd going to the gala.
Clive Kingsley smiled, his face alight with interest. “And what is it you do, Ms. Wright?”
While he was the most reserved of the trio, in his conservative navy blue uniform and a tie that matched his eyes, Lola sensed a sincere