Burn (Page 39)

Now she had to look up at him again, though she really, really didn’t want to. She aimed her gaze at his nose, because those blue eyes were too unsettling. "Thank you." She kept her tone as neutral as possible.

"You’re welcome," he said, reaching past her to accept his card back from the bartender. Just then the ship rolled slightly to the left, the first real movement she’d felt, but even as slight as it was that was still too much for a few people who had already had too much to drink. There was a commotion to the right, a yelp, then the man beside her was suddenly moving, both arms coming around her to brace against the bar as he shielded her with his body. He made a soft "oof" as someone landed against him, and for a moment he was crushed against her, his chest to her back, her head against his shoulder.

"Sorry," someone said, just as the man also said "Sorry," and straightened away from her.

"Damn you." It was a woman’s voice, dripping with inebriated scorn and fury. "I saw that! You can’t even get a drink without putting your hands on another woman."

Uncomfortably Jenner looked around. A curvy brunette with exotic sloe eyes was standing just behind them. She was overdressed in a skintight red cocktail dress that ended just a few inches below her ass, and she teetered precariously on five-inch heels, though whether that was because of the ship’s movement or the amount of alcohol in her blood was anyone’s guess. She was glaring at them, her chandelier earrings glittering as she tossed her head.

Jenner felt him sigh, felt the rise and fall of his chest. "You’re drunk and you’re making a scene," he said quietly. "Let’s go back to the table."

The man who had initially stumbled looked around, blinking as he tried to make sense of the situation. He was sober enough to say, "No, that was my fault – "

"I know what I saw!" she said shrilly, dismissing him as she advanced closer to the man who had just saved Jenner from being knocked off her stool. "I don’t know why you asked me along – "

"Neither do I." His tone was hard and grim. "But I regret it more every minute."

"That’s easy to fix! Get your clothes and get out, you bastard." Her voice rose to a shriek of outrage, and tears began to melt her mascara into black rivulets running down her cheeks. More and more people were falling silent, turning to watch the scene, and Jenner began to feel as if she were caught in the middle of a train wreck with no way of escaping. She looked desperately around, hoping she could slip away.

He tilted his head, his expression turning hard. "I don’t believe you can kick me out of my own stateroom, Tiffany, but I’ll tell you what: I’ll let you have the room, because I’d rather sleep in the laundry than spend another minute with you."

Tiffany!

Oh my God. Horrified awareness swept over Jenner like ice water. This was Cael.

Chapter Eleven

THE SCENE GOT UGLIER AND UGLIER. TIFFANY’S FACE turned an unbecoming red as she began shrieking and sputtering incoherent insults. Cael didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. He let his expression say it all for him; he might as well have been looking at an insect. Beside him, Jenner Redwine was frozen on the barstool, her expression both stunned and horrified.

Before he’d called Tiffany by name, she’d been merely uncomfortable, and a little embarrassed at inadvertently being sucked into a scene. He’d been paying close attention to her, though, and he knew the exact instant she’d made the connection and realized who he was. She really hadn’t suspected. He’d made the call not to coach her on the changes they’d made to the scenario, because he’d thought her reaction would be more believable if she was caught by surprise. He’d been right.

Redwine hadn’t been the only one caught by surprise, though.

Funny how seeing her in person could give him a completely different reaction from what he’d expected looking at her photograph. Seeing her picture, he’d thought she might be trouble, but then he’d dismissed her. Seeing her in person, he knew she was trouble, but there was no dismissing her.

She wasn’t a tall person, a little under average height, and she was thin, but on her it looked normal and not like she had starved herself. For one thing, even though she had small breasts, she had a nice, round ass. It wasn’t big, just … round. He liked round. In this case, he liked it too much.

She hadn’t dressed up. Faith had reported that she hadn’t changed clothes at all. But even in simple oatmeal-colored pants and a sleeveless emerald-green blouse, she stood out from the crowd around her. Yeah, that could be because he’d been watching for her, but even looked at objectively she was different: the erect way she carried herself, the reserve, the way she had of looking at people that made them start surreptitiously checking to see if they’d spilled something on themselves. There was a subtle, underlying aggression in everything she did, in her very posture, that said Jenner Redwine would fight for what she wanted and God help anyone who got in her way.

He’d have to watch her every minute, because she wouldn’t be intimidated into quietly going along with what she was told to do. No sooner had that realization flashed through his brain than she was slipping off the stool and edging away, looking for all the world as if she was just trying to escape an unpleasant scene.

Tiffany, bless her, also saw what was happening and shrieked, "Don’t try to run off like you’re Little Miss Innocent! I saw you flirting – "

"I don’t know you," Jenner interrupted. Cael took the opportunity to shift his position, subtly blocking her avenue of escape. She shot him a bladed look from narrowed green eyes. She looked as if she would gladly have brained both of them. "And I don’t know him, so leave me out of your nasty little scene." Then she evidently caught the eye of someone she knew because she gave a sort of what-can-you-do shrug. Good girl; that looked completely genuine. Maybe she was a better actress than she’d let on to Bridget.