Jack & Jilted (11 page)

Now guilt hit him hard. “And you’re staying up all hours, working on this stuff,” he said. “Damn, Chloe. Ace is right. We are too lucky to have found you.”

She grinned with delight at this. He got up, stood next to her. Against his better judgment, he reached out and rubbed against her back. She made a low noise.

He stopped immediately. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No-o,” she stammered, then he could’ve sworn she was blushing. “It felt good, actually.”

“You’re probably overdue for some body work,” he said.

He didn’t mean for it to be suggestive—honestly, he really didn’t. But he immediately realized how close they were standing when he said that. And, to his horror and fascination, she leaned ever so slightly closer to him. He could smell that vanilla-laced scent of hers, and his body reacted as it always did when he got too close to her. Full steam ahead.

Her eyes were huge and golden-brown, staring into his.

Her breathing was shallow. “You’re probably right,” she murmured. “I could probably use…something.”

Oh, man, did he have a few suggestions on what that something could be.

A knock on the door interrupted them, and to his relief, she took a step back. Actually, she jumped away, which caused her to trip and tumble onto his bed. “Yes?” he said in a strangled voice as he quickly sat at his desk.

It was Inga, his new hire. She took in the scene—Chloe was sitting on the bed by this point, and he was at the desk, so everything looked proper, he assumed. Still, Inga’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Something you needed?” he asked, glad that his voice was even and that his at-attention lower body was hidden by the heavy wood desk.

“Just wanted to see if it was okay if I stayed on board until tomorrow,” Inga drawled, her blue eyes going low-lidded. She was just a kid, in her early twenties, and from what he could see, she was a classic good-time girl…that is, always looking for a good time, and never being disappointed. She’d said a few things that suggested she was angling for a good time with him specifically. He hadn’t encouraged her, but then, he hadn’t done anything to discourage her, either, he supposed. At any other point, he might’ve considered it. But now, especially with Chloe on board, and after their week together…

He shook his head. No, getting involved with someone he worked with was out of the question.

He threw a quick glance at Chloe, the way her eyes widened.

Well, getting involved with someone I work with is discouraged…not completely out of the question.

He shook his head again. He was completely losing it.

“It’s not all right?” Inga said, puzzled by his expression.

“Huh? Uh…I guess it’s okay.” He shrugged. Jose had stayed on board on occasion, and Kenneth used to stay on board all the time when he was “between housing,” as he put it, meaning temporarily homeless. Jack wondered what the deal was with Inga. “Most people would rather spend their shore time with friends, though.”

“I could use the break,” Inga said breezily, shooting a quick look at Chloe. “Are you staying overnight?”

He assumed Inga asked because she and Chloe were sharing a cabin at the moment. Both being new to the ship and women, it made sense for them to bunk together and it meant fewer cleaning duties for Chloe. Besides, he didn’t want another repeat of what had happened with Kenneth and Helen, and Ace occasionally had a wandering eye—better not to leave the women in their own cabins just yet.

Suddenly he remembered Ace’s admiration of Chloe, and his chest tightened uncomfortably.

It was definitely better that the women not have their own cabins.

Chloe shook her head, looking stern. “I’m staying onshore,” she said, and there was an edginess in her voice. “I’ve got a lot of work still to do.”

Jack felt badly about that, but Inga looked pleased for no good reason. At least none that he could discern. Maybe she liked staying up late and Chloe didn’t or vice versa.

“But I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early, ready for our charter,” Chloe added, taking Inga’s pleased expression down a notch.

“And you stay here, right, Jack?” Inga asked.

He shrugged. “Well, yeah. I live here.”

“That’s so cool,” she said, her drawl making it sound more like kew-el. “Well…I guess it’ll just be you and me, then.”

He tilted his head, putting the pieces together. Okay, he was pretty dense, but even he knew a come-on when he heard it laid out that blatantly.

“If you could just sign off on my hours—I like to keep track with my own time card. Oops!” Inga said brightly. He hadn’t noticed that she was holding a pen, but she dropped it. And then turned and very slowly and deliberately picked it up, facing away from him. Her butt was just there, perfectly rounded in her low-riding shorts. He couldn’t help it. His eyes bugged out slightly.

He turned to look at Chloe, who was also staring, her eyes wide.

“Sorry about that,” Inga said as she slowly straightened and looked over her shoulder. Then she sashayed to his desk, leaning over and giving him full view of her cleavage as he hastily scribbled a signature on her time card, which only had two patrons on it. “Okay, I’m going to just grab some stuff at the grocery store to put in the fridge. But then I’ll see you tonight,” she said, loads of promise dripping in her voice. With that, she walked out.

He sat frozen. Like my life was not complicated enough. This little girl had him in her sights like a sniper—and he wasn’t sure that a pure good time was the only thing on her agenda anymore. Anyone that determined made him uneasy.

Well…except Chloe.

He turned to Chloe, at a loss for words at Inga’s behavior. Not that he owed her anything, but, well, he had slept with Chloe. Just because they weren’t doing it now didn’t mean that he wouldn’t feel something if some guy started hitting on her right in front of him.

To his surprise, Chloe burst out into giggles. “Man, now there was an example of presentation!”

He chuckled, too, although he felt a bubble of irritation. “You’re not honestly going to leave me alone with this woman all night,” he said. “You’ve got to have mercy.”

“I don’t know,” Chloe mused. “She’s young, she’s pretty….”

He wondered if she was fishing for something, some inkling of his intentions—or if she was just making fun of him. “She’s a barracuda,” he said. “If she got me into her clutches, you wouldn’t even find my shoes in the morning. Couldn’t identify me with dental records.”

Chloe’s laughter rose. “What, does that little girl scare you?”

He grinned. “Right down to my socks. Come on, you can’t just ditch me here with little miss Daisy Dukes,” he pleaded.

She sighed. “If you’re that frightened, I can just hit an Internet café and come back.”

He leaned back with a huge sigh of relief, which, he realized, he was only half joking with. “Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s only because I need you hale and hearty to make this business work,” she said, standing up. “Otherwise, I’d let you fend for yourself.”

“You’re a hard woman,” he said.

She paused at the doorway, her joking smile melting into something more hesitant. “Jack?”

He was already thinking about the charter and still in a jovial mood. “Yeah?”

“You know, if you decided you wanted to…be alone on the boat…with anyone,” she said slowly, “you could just tell me. That’d be all right.”

At first, he wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Then, abruptly, he did realize what she was saying.

If you want to sleep with Inga, I’d be all right with it.

He supposed she thought he’d appreciate it. For no good reason whatsoever, it made him mad.

“If I decide to,” he said, his voice cold, “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

She didn’t flinch, but he still got that impression—and felt like even more of a jerk.

“You do that,” she said and fled.

He sighed, putting his head down on his desk with an audible thump.

“Smooth move,” he chided himself. But, damn it, he knew he had the right to have sex with other people if he wanted. They weren’t involved. They hadn’t had a relationship. It was just business.

But the bottom line was he didn’t want to have sex with anyone else. He still wanted to have sex with Chloe.

And, damn it, whether they could or not, he wanted her to feel the same way. If that wasn’t stupid, he didn’t know what was.

CHLOE SAT AT THE Internet café, not too far from the Coronado docks, checking her e-mail. She’d already told her parents she’d be staying on the Rascal that evening instead of staying with them. She felt relieved, actually. She’d much rather stay on board, even if she was sharing a room with Inga, than go back to her parents’ house. Her parents had not been as pleased when she’d called.

“When will you be able to stop with all this?” her mother had asked plaintively. “It just seems so…well, so frivolous.”

“I’m not getting any responses to my résumé,” Chloe had answered. “And even if I did, the admin jobs that are coming up wouldn’t be enough to cover my mortgage. This is somewhat crazy, but you know the adage—desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Your father and I could take out a loan….”

“No, Mom,” Chloe had said sharply. And that had been the end of that. Still, Chloe had done the calculations. She was earning a percentage from Jack, and it was pretax. She was going to have a hell of a time when taxes finally came due, but for now she was preserving her credit rating. Gerald was still avoiding her calls and insisting that she only converse through his family lawyers. Well, she now had their phone numbers and was trading e-mails with them on a regular basis.

As she typed in her password and waited for her mail to come up, the scene she’d just been through with Jack and Inga played through her mind inexplicably. She’d never really been the jealous type. Of course, with Gerald cheating on her, maybe she should have been, she admitted to herself with some bitterness. But it had never occurred to her that she ought to be jealous. If Gerald or any of her other boyfriends had felt the need to be with someone else, then she wasn’t going to stop them. She was understanding, if nothing else. Some of her girlfriends had mentioned that she was too accommodating.

When Inga had made such a flagrant flirt of herself, it was all Chloe could do not to stand up and plant a foot right on that ostentatious denim-covered derriere of hers. The nerve! To just…just throw herself at Jack when Chloe was sitting right there!

It was tacky was what it was.

And Jack had reacted like a typical male, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

Although, what made all of this worse was Chloe had absolutely no right to be angry with Jack over his reaction. It wasn’t as if they were in a relationship. For that matter, it wasn’t as if they were in a fling. He’d insisted on no sex, and if he hadn’t, she would have. So they were business associates, all the more reason why Inga wouldn’t necessarily assume they were anything more personal. And Inga was twenty-four, a young twenty-four at that, and obviously used to getting her way with sexual wiles. So if she wanted to pull some ploys on her captain and boss, why was Chloe taking it so personally?

Because he’s mine.

Chloe sighed. The thought was completely irrational and stupid besides. She’d been engaged, been on the very doorstep of being married a month ago. Maybe she hadn’t loved Gerald as much as she could have, but she’d been loyal and committed, and in a way, she was still heartbroken—if not for him, then for the dream of a loyal and committed relationship. One that she knew she’d never have with someone like Jack. So what was she doing? Mooning over him? Was the sex so incredible that now she was fantasizing about a white picket fence and forever with this man?

She closed her eyes. Admittedly, the sex was incredible. But that wasn’t the point of all this.

She glanced over her e-mail. Several “thanks, but no thanks” responses to her applications for executive secretary positions and office manager positions, employers who felt she wasn’t qualified enough or that she lacked references. Thanks, Gerald. Then an e-mail from Gerald’s family lawyers.

Miss Winton, the e-mail said, regarding the sale of the house. We are in the process of selling it, but current offers are not up to what we feel the house is worth. Mr. Sutton feels quite sure that a more significant profit could be made. We remind you that you are still responsible for your half of the mortgage, since you are in fifty-fifty ownership of the deed. If you fail to pay, then we will have no choice but to give full remuneration to Mr. Sutton once the house finally sells.

Chloe reread the e-mail twice just to be sure she understood what they were saying. Then she was so angry that her hands shook.

Gerald knew that she didn’t have a job. It had been his idea, hadn’t it? The thought was bitter. And now Gerald and his mother and his lawyers all thought that if they waited her out, she’d be so financially desperate that she’d agree to signing away her portion of the down payment and any money that might be made on the resale of the house, just so she wouldn’t drown under the mortgage payments. They were making sure that not only was she financially destitute, she wouldn’t be getting out of the hole they presumed she was digging for herself anytime soon.