Nerds Like It Hot (Nerds, #6)(34)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Lex’s face came close, and then he lifted her out of the water. She couldn’t get her breath, and the blue sky above her seemed to shimmer and pop. Pretty colors, but she was afraid she might pass out, and that would be embarrassing. She began to shiver. And then she couldn’t breathe at all.

Someone stuck a finger down her throat. How icky. She tried to pull it back out, but her arms and hands wouldn’t work right. Then she threw up. That was not what she’d been going for. Someone had made her do that, and they’d pay the consequences.

Throughout it all she heard Lex’s voice, soothing her, telling her it was okay. She would be fine. He was right there, and he would protect her. Yeah, but he hadn’t stopped that maniac from putting a finger down her throat and making her throw up.

Finally, the haze cleared a little bit and she looked up to find Lex, Dante, Cora, BJ, and Little Ben leaning over her. There was bustling in the background, and soon someone in an official-looking uniform shouldered his way into the group and leaned over her, too. She felt like the camera person inside a football huddle.

"I’m Mr. Stern," the man said. "Maybe we should have the ship’s doctor take a look at her."

Don’t talk about me in the third person, like I’m dying! She wanted to shout that, but she couldn’t seem to say anything, let alone shout.

"I don’t think that will be necessary," Lex said. "Gillian, are you feeling better?"

She drew on what little energy she had and managed to nod. No matter what, she didn’t want to lose contact with Lex, and going to see the ship’s doctor could threaten her contact with her bodyguard.

"Sun and alcohol can be a wicked combination," said Mr. Stern.

"True." Lex’s jaw was tight. "We’ll be careful about that from now on."

"Keep an eye on her." Mr. Stern moved back. "Let me know immediately if her condition gets worse."

"Let’s get her to her stateroom," Dante said.

Cora looked grim. "Good idea."

Gillian didn’t remember a whole lot about the trip. There was some comment about the mattress that was still lying on the floor, and then she was laid carefully on her bed. Conversation went on above her, and she only caught snatches. It was all about the drinks and who had access.

She figured out the general content. Someone had tried to poison her by putting something in her drink. Someone else, probably Lex, had stuck his finger down her throat and made her throw it all up again. So he was the maniac she’d planned to settle a score with.

A person couldn’t very well be upset if another person made her throw up in order to get poison out of her stomach. But the total effect must have been less than lovely. Not exactly a sexual turn-on.

One statement came through loud and clear. Lex’s voice, filled with fury, said quite clearly, "I’m not letting her out of this room again."

She tried to protest, but she was still too weak to talk. She’d planned to wear the silver dress to dinner tonight. The dress would go back to L.A. with Cora tomorrow, so this was Gillian’s last chance to appear in Marilyn’s gown.

"I don’t care what she thinks," Lex said, as if he’d tuned in to her thoughts. "If she feels like eating, one of you can bring food in after you’ve made absolutely sure no one has tampered with it. We have our walkie-talkies. We’ll communicate that way."

"I’ll go into the kitchen and stand over them while they dish it out," Cora said.

"And I’ll go with you," Little Ben said. "I feel awful, thinking that someone used the drink I bought her to do this thing."

"It wasn’t your fault," Lex said. "If anything, I blame myself."

"Don’t," Dante said. "We all kept an eye on Hector, and he didn’t get anywhere near that drink."

"Which means it’s someone else," Lex said. "Or maybe there’s more than one of them. In any case, she’s not leaving this room."

So that was that, Gillian thought. It seemed that she was a prisoner, but at least she was on intimate terms with the jailor. That was her last conscious thought before she drifted off to sleep.

Twenty-six

AFTER EVERYONE LEFT, LEX CLOSED THE DRAPES AND turned on one lamp across the room from the bed, so Gillian wouldn’t wake up in the dark and be scared and disoriented. Then he settled down on the desk chair and got his own adrenaline rush under control.

He probably should have taken off her bathing suit, which was still damp, but that might wake her up, and he thought she needed to sleep. Picking up the spread lying on the floor, he shook it out and covered her. Hesitating by her bed, he gave in to the urge to lean down and place a soft kiss on her cheek. Then he closed his eyes and said a little prayer of thanks that she was okay.

He’d had enough close calls to last him forever. Glancing at the door, he thought about the key access someone on board had. Might as well drag the mattress over there and at least lean it sideways in the entry area. That way the bathroom was available but no one could get in the door without banging against the mattress.

Once he’d accomplished that, he sat on the desk chair again. His brain kept playing with what had happened and trying to come up with some answers. He couldn’t believe that anyone had wandered by and tossed something in her drink while it was sitting on the table with Cora and Little Ben right there. That meant it had been doctored before it arrived at the table.

That didn’t help much, though. Several people had been over there, and then there was the bartender, himself. Hector could have bribed him. But how would anyone have known which drink was Gillian’s?

Then he knew exactly how. Picking up his walkie-talkie, he stepped into the entryway, hoping that would muffle the conversation enough so he wouldn’t disturb Gillian.

Dante answered immediately. "What’s up? Over." "I figured out how someone knew which drink to poison. Are Little Ben and Cora right there with you?" "Negative. Over."

"Good. I don’t want Little Ben to get upset, but remember how he recited our orders before he left the table? I’ll bet he recited them again when he got to the bar, just to make sure he got them straight Anybody listening would have known the mai tai was Gillian’s. Over."

"I’m sure you’re right, buddy. Damn. And there were a bunch of people at the bar, too. Over."

"I know. And we have no idea if someone’s been bribed to be a part of this operation. I’ve been thinking about dinner, and I’ll bet Gillian will want something to eat by then. So will I. But we can’t have Cora or Little Ben making the same mistake of saying who the meal is for. Over."

"BJ and I will handle the food. We’ll give Cora and Little Ben something else to do. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Over."

"Thanks. Over and out." Lex gazed at the walkie-talkie. Dante was a good guy, and Lex hadn’t warned him yet that he’d be leaving with Gillian in the morning. He needed to do that, but he couldn’t picture saying it to his best friend over a damned walkie-talkie.

So much had changed so fast. Originally he’d been hired to protect Gillian during the cruise. Now he intended to protect her for the rest of her life, if she’d have him. He had no idea where they’d live or how they’d live, but they would be together.

He thought about that for some time, daydreaming about how it would be living with Gillian. The daydream was going along fine until he remembered her chief complaint, that he was the wrong astrological sign for her. He wasn’t romantic enough.

After stewing about that for another long while, he began to come up with some ideas that might impress her right now. For starters, the lamp he’d turned on could be decorated with some of her Victoria’s Secret underwear. He headed for the drawer. Handling the underwear got him hot and bothered, but he forced himself to settle down. This was about romance, not sex.

His major problem was trying to separate the two. In his mind, sex and romance went together. He couldn’t envision one without the other. When he was enjoying sex, he was also feeling romantic, or what he thought of as romantic. Wasn’t it all about wanting to spend more time with that person? Like a lifetime? With lots of sex thrown in?

In any case, the room now glowed pink from the bra and panties he’d arranged over the lampshade. He’d never been in a brothel, but he imagined the lighting would be like this, and brothels were about sex, not romance. It was all so confusing.

What else? Romantic music would be nice. He tried the intercom music, but it was currently broadcasting mariachi tunes. He tried turning it down low, and that was a little better. Maybe some music, even trumpets, was a step up from no music at all.

Flowers would be good, but he couldn’t figure out any way to add flowers to this scene. There was a complimentary magazine, a tourist’s guide to Mexico, on the desk. He flipped through it and found a picture of a Mexican woman holding a basket of flowers. Close enough. Tearing out the picture, he propped it up on the nightstand next to Gillian’s bed.

Then he settled down on the desk chair and started going through the rest of the magazine. He found a few more pictures that included flowers, so he tore those out, too, and placed them in various spots around the room. The area was looking quite festive and romantic, if he did say so himself.

He was reading an article about sport fishing in Mexico and wondering if he should consider getting into that when Gillian moaned softly. Putting down the magazine, he got up and walked over to her bed.

She turned on her back, dislodging the covers, and her eyes fluttered open. "Am I dying?"

"I hope not."

"I was dreaming that I heard trumpets, and I think they have trumpets in heaven."

"I wouldn’t know about that." But she looked like an angel to him, with her hair all fluffy around her head, like a halo. He’d never seen a picture of an angel in a red bathing suit, though.

"I can still hear the trumpets."

"Oh." He’d been so involved in looking at her that he’d forgotten about the music. "It’s the intercom. Mariachis. I kept it low, hoping that it might be …" He couldn’t bring himself to say romantic, because he was afraid he might have goofed that up.

"Why is it so pink in here?"

Yep, he’d definitely goofed it up. "I, uh, thought pink lighting would be more soothing to your eyes."

She sat up slowly and looked around.

"Are you feeling okay? Maybe you shouldn’t sit up yet."

"I’m feeling a little weird, but mostly I feel normal." She gazed at the pictures propped up around the room. "Nice pictures. They’re a little blurry, but I can tell they have good color. Where’d they come from?"

"A magazine I found on the desk."

She glanced up at him. "You tore them out?"

"It was a complimentary issue. I don’t think anybody will care."

"I didn’t mean that. I just…" She focused on the lamp across the room. "So that’s how come it’s so pink in here." She squinted at it. "What’s that hanging on the lampshade?"

"Your underwear." He braced himself for her to start laughing. He was a washout at this romantic stuff, and he might as well face it. If she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with him, he’d convince her to spend a few months, until she was settled and safe in South America.

Instead of laughter, he heard a sniff. Then another one. Then a gulp. He crouched beside the bed. "Gillian, are you crying?’ That was so not what he’d been going for.

"Y-yes."

Oh, God. He’d done such a bad job of it that he’d made her cry. "I’m sorry." He felt a little like crying himself, except that guys didn’t do that. They punched things, instead. "I probably shouldn’t have tried, considering that I don’t have a romantic bone in my body, but I thought that—"

"Lex, come here." She held out her arms.

He climbed into bed with her, because that was the only option, and he held her while she cried. "I’m sorry," he murmured about a hundred times.

"No, no!" She shook her head so hard she bashed him in the chin. "Don’t be sorry. I love what you did. It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." She continued to sob.

"Yeah, but it’s not romantic."

"Yes it is," she wailed. "It’s romantic, and crazy, and creative, and you still can’t go to South America!" He held her tight. "Just try and stop me."

GILLIAN KNEW SHE WOULD STOP HIM, AND SHE’D Figured out exactly how to do it. She’d figured out something else, too, and now she had to decide what to do about that.

As she’d hovered between sleep and consciousness, images had danced through her head, images of Theo and Neil. And then, interspersed with those images had been flashes of someone else . .. Nancy Roth. Gillian’s subconscious had been wrestling with the question of Nancy, and who she looked like.

Gillian woke up knowing the answer. Now she needed a plan. But she couldn’t think with Lex holding her close. When he did that, she wanted to have sex, especially after his endearing attempts to be romantic.

Knowing how hard he’d tried had opened the floodgates, but she was getting control of her tears. And if she didn’t put a little distance between them right now. he’d soon have control of her. She couldn’t think and have orgasms at the same time.

"Lex." She pushed gently at his chest. "I need… to go into the…."

"Oh. Sure." He let her up immediately. "Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?"

"No. In fact, I’m sort of hungry." She started toward the bathroom.

"I don’t think you should leave the room until tomorrow morning. If you want something to eat, I’ll have Dante get it."

She turned back to him. "I thought I remembered a dinner plan being discussed before I went to sleep. You’re keeping me locked up here all night, aren’t you?"

He looked wary, as if he expected an argument. "It’s the best way to keep you safe. I realize that means you can’t take advantage of the couples massage, but—"

"That’s okay."

"I’m glad to hear you say that. I can’t control the whole ship, but I can control what happens in this room."

She arched her eyebrows. "Is that right?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking." He flushed. "I meant safety-wise, not sexually."