Seducing Her Rival (8 page)

Standing, she tried for a smile, but it faltered. “Marco.” She turned to the attendant, handed off the harness, and started walking away, her steps still unsteady.

“Polo.” When she didn’t stop, he scrambled to his feet and out of his own rigging, then raced after her. “If it’s some big secret, I’ll let it go, but I offered you a way out with the tie. Why didn’t you take it?”

Snorting a laugh, she stabbed the elevator call button and leaned against the wall. Her arms were still shaking when she moved to cross them and balled her hands into fists instead, dropping them back to her sides. “Because it’s called facing your fear for a reason. Pussing out on your fear just keeps you afraid longer. Besides, I made a promise to a kid.”

Named Marco apparently. At least that part he understood. The rest…

Screw it. If she was walking again anyway, there was no reason to be cautious. “But you mentioned something else you were afraid of…”

Stopping, she met his gaze and ran a hand tenderly against his cheek. “It’s not something I can make you understand. I wouldn’t know where to start.” The doors opened and she sidestepped inside, still looking at him. “But to keep it simple, let’s just say
you
scare me. You, Luc Bellamy, terrify me. There’s the truth you wanted to a question you asked. Guess that means we tied after all.”

The doors started to close, and he braced them with his hand. “What about my kiss?”

Without a word, she rose on her tiptoes and leaned into him, her lips crushing against his hard enough to bruise. Then she was gone and the metal slid shut, blocking her from view. But the kiss had been more than just a kiss. She’d trembled harder than she had been when she finished with the rock wall. There was more going on there, and he refused to let it go until he found out what.

Lucas Bellamy was used to getting the answers he sought from every quarter, and he’d be damned if he made an exception for Mercedes.

He watched the numbers to see where the elevator stopped. Deck four and then it started back up again. There were a limited amount of places she could go down there. Perfect.

No matter what she might think, her silence wasn’t some magical wall of protection. As he knew all too well from dealing with his father, it was how people broke you. Even though breaking Mercedes wasn’t his plan, he recognized her fear for what it was…the chink in her armor.

…

Mercedes’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking by the time she collapsed in front of the slot machine. The lights reflecting on the mirrored ceiling were enough to mak
e her head pound. Looking down wasn’t any better. The red swoops and swirls in the carpet were too bright—hyper-real. She gazed straight at the machine, hoping she could find some serenity and maybe some answers in its depths. But the trio of images staring at her gave back nothing.

Slot machines were useless.

This wasn’t working. Even if she
could
make Lucas fall in love with her, spending time with him was doing things to her brain. For Christ’s sake, she’d jumped off a rock wall! If not for the belay line, she could have died.

Stupid Lucas Bellamy and his stupid games. And what was he doing making her feel ridiculously safe dozens of feet from anything even vaguely resembling solid ground?

She tried to focus on the money he agreed to pay when he lost the bet. It was a grand Better Todays hadn’t had a little while ago. Hell, maybe if she played her cards right, she could get him to make some more stupid bets. The money would rack up and increase Better Todays’ chance of getting the land.

That would work—no getting him to fall in love with her necessary. As long as she kept her eye on the prize, she could play this game.

And as long as work didn’t turn into another round of sex-dancing. Or spontaneous kisses. Or lose-her-mind sex. Just sitting here she could still feel him. His eyes locked on hers, his hand on her waist, fingers inching the hem of her shirt up to touch bare skin. Her clit started to throb and she squeezed her legs together. Eyes closed, she tried to picture dollar signs eclipsing his face. This was about Better Todays and the playground.

Who was she trying to kid?

Everything about Lucas sucked her in and made her lose herself. It wasn’t like college, not really, but he had that same charisma Cole had. The kind of guy people wanted to hang out with just for the energy he gave off. She’d fallen for it back then, and Cole had made her into the girl who would do whatever he wanted because he gave her all the shiny things she could ask for.

Then when things had gotten tough he’d called her his Mexican whore.

Her stomach clenched just thinking about it.

She couldn’t let that history repeat itself, not with how things had turned out in the end. Even if he acted as though he liked her just the way she was, Lucas Bellamy was a drug, one far more addictive than anything she’d tried back in college.

She needed to immerse herself in something else—anything else—and clearly her attempt at focusing on heights had been a wash. Without another thought, she dropped a quarter into the slot machine and pushed the button. The reels spun and spun, like her damn mind, jolting to a stop on the least useful images in the world.

Nothing.

No answers, just pieces that didn’t fit together.

Dios
, she was turning into a melancholy bitch.

This time she shoved the quarter in like she was smacking the machine and yanked the handle. Buttons were for lazy-ass gamblers.

Spin, spin, spin.

Better Todays.

Playground.

Marco Belluci.

School.

Drugs.

Lucas Bellamy.

Stop!

Mercedes rubbed the heels of her hands against her temples, trying to drive the thoughts away. Damn that man for bringing memories better left buried back to life.

“Headache? I’ve heard foolhardy acrobatic stunts can do that to a person.”

She didn’t open her eyes as she leaned against the machine, her forehead hitting the button to send the reels spinning again. It was so much easier when she was allowed to just hate him. This plan to get close to him, while lucrative, was complicating everything.

Charming. She needed to be charming. Too bad every instinct told her to lash out and then run as fast and as far as she could. “What are you doing here? Not even sure Pinocchio’s conscience was this attentive.”

“Probably not, but you’re far more attractive than a wooden boy. And I hope I’m more enticing than a cricket.” He settled on the stool next to her and ran his fingers through her hair. Mercedes fought not to lean into his touch. “I know you gave me my truth and the kiss, but I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Why?”

“Because I care?”

A question, not a statement. Care didn’t equal love but maybe, if she was going to go through with this, it was a step in the right direction. “And in a few days, you’ll disappear and stop caring. It’s why you scare me.” He didn’t need to know the truth hidden inside that particular lie.

For a minute he didn’t say anything, just sat there, combing through her hair like the conversation had reached a natural conclusion. “I’m not going to spin some bullshit line and say I plan to make an honest woman of you at the end of the week.”

She snorted. “Does
anyone
actually say that anymore?”

“Probably not, but the point is, beyond the money you just won, I still owe you a hundred hours. I made a commitment and I’m going to honor it. The end of the cruise isn’t the last day we’re going to see each other.”

Somehow
we’re still going to work together
sounded less like love than
caring
did. At least she could use it though. “It’s not going to work.”

“What?”

She heard the laughter in his voice—he knew perfectly well what. “Pretending that will mean something more than it does.”

“I wasn’t doing that, but I could start if you’d prefer.”

No. She’d prefer he’d been anyone other than Luc Bellamy so this could be real. Even the risk of losing something worthwhile would be more acceptable than the risk of losing herself to New York’s biggest playboy. “Perfect. You go buy me a giant diamond ring and I’ll hold my breath until you come up with the perfect proposal.”

He laughed, the sound so full and rich she wanted to wrap herself in it. “If I was going to propose to you, I would take you to Harry Winston’s or Tiffany’s. It certainly wouldn’t be anything I’d pick up on a cruise ship.”

“Of course you would. How silly of me.”

Fingers pressed gently into her chin. She wanted to resist and stay right where she was, but just his touch had her shaking all over again. So she turned and tipped her head up to meet his eyes. “For now, we’ll forget the pretend engagement and I’m just going to promise to show you a fabulous time tonight. For the moment, I’ll leave you to your gambling—though for someone as worried about money as you it’s an odd choice of pastime.”

He had a point. But she didn’t think the ten dollars in quarters she’d burned through was going to bring down Better Todays.

“Judging by your betting nature, it’s one you indulge in on a regular basis. Isn’t it, rich boy? Nice life you’ve got there.” She stuck her tongue out, hoping it kept her words playful rather than sounding as bitter as they tasted.

Sighing, he leaned down like he would kiss her. “Money never bought me a better life. Stuff can make life easier, but easier and better are rarely the same things.” He shoved a quarter in her machine. “At the end of the day, happiness still can’t be bought. See you after dinner.”

The reels spun as he walked deeper into the casino.

He made it sound so simple, but he really didn’t understand anything about her life. She’d only told him the pretty parts—the ones fit for public consumption. Money might not buy happiness, but it bought a lot of other things. It could buy the kids safety, eventually buy them an escape from whatever bad cycle or neighborhood they were stuck in.

It could keep them from clinging to the wrong people for an escape, for salvation, and help them find their way to a better life through their own talents and hard work.

It could do a lot of good, and maybe—just maybe—if she could find enough money, do enough good, it would buy her absolution. And that would be a lot like happiness.

When the machine finally stopped spinning, bells erupted and a light on the top flashed and danced. Mercedes blinked at the screen. Five hundred dollars.

Part of her wanted to race after Lucas and thank him. The money would more than pay for surprises to take back to the kids. But the other part of her—the part that had never left the park where she lay down with little Marco that night, unable to stop his bleeding bullet wound—wanted to hate Lucas for the simple fact that even something so stupid as a winning slot machine pull had come easy to him.

Chapter Seven

Scowling, Lucas pushed the bar up and off the rack, the muscles in his arms and chest straining already, just the way he needed. He still hadn’t figured out if Mercedes was toying with him or if she didn’t car
e that they were
after the same property. Every time they were together, it just felt
right
. Felt good enough to make him want more.

Could he really afford to think beyond the cruise? Did he want to?

She’d brought up the end of the week—pointing out their time together was limited—which reinforced that when they stepped off the ship, they’d go their separate ways. At best they’d see each other at charity events. That was how it should be—two lives intersecting and diverging again. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t stop thinking about her or that he kept hearing Rosie’s voice as his damn conscience at moments like this, urging him to chase after Mercedes no matter what.

He didn’t do that, damn it. Chasing had long-term implications, and long-term led to love. Love inevitably led to heartbreak. The one time he’d really opened his heart, death had ripped Rosie from him. Just as it had stolen away her husband. For a while he’d thought love would be worth the risk, but no more. He wasn’t willing to suffer that sort of devastation again.

Keep it light and easy; that was his motto.

Still, he chuckled, thinking about how Rosie would have liked Mercedes’s passion for helping kids. Her disdain for material possessions. Her smart mouth and biting wit.

The way she made Luc laugh and just…
be
.

He couldn’t do it though. Rosie or no Rosie, he would not lose himself. Especially when he knew damn well Mercedes was keeping secrets. There were things she didn’t want to share, which only proved they weren’t supposed to get close. What did he know about her, really? Hell, how much did she know about him? Or his company even?

His great-grandfather had started with less than nothing and built Bellamy Enterprises from the dust of the Great Depression. The next two generations of Bellamy men had made it into the monster of a company it was when Lucas took over after his dad’s death. He was pretty sure his father and grandfather were rolling over in their graves with the changes he’d been making but Lucas liked to think great-grandpa would have approved.

The company still earned money hand over fist like it always had. He just didn’t make a habit of hoarding it or funneling it right back into making the monster bigger. Instead, Lucas put much of it into the community, contributing to hospitals and research and things like Rosie’s school. He’d even funded medical and educational missions overseas to some of the places most in need. There’d been a time he’d ignored charity in favor of the world his father had shown him, embracing his wealth and notoriety. Then he’d grown up and started becoming a man Rosie would’ve been proud of.

But falling in love was completely off the table.

He pushed the bar up again with a grunt. Rosie had loved the ballet and he’d be damned if he ever stopped feeding money that way no matter how much it would’ve pissed his father off. She’d been like a mother to him for years, but he still remembered the first time he’d taken her to the theater.

He’d caught her watching
The Nutcracker
on TV the Christmas after he turned seventeen. She was supposed to be cleaning for his parents’ upcoming holiday party. The look of horror on her face made him laugh so hard that he’d barely managed to get out the words when he promised not to squeal.

Like he could ever rat out the woman who nursed him through the flu. And also taken care of him during more than one hangover—those ministrations coming with calm and quiet lectures. She’d held his hand so many damn times he was surprised they hadn’t become fused together.

The next day, he’d presented her with her ticket to see the New York City Ballet perform. Two weeks later, instead of the dancers, he’d watched as tears ran down the cheeks of the woman who had raised him while his parents had been too busy being rich.

That one night led to conversations about her past and her husband. The man had been the love of her life.
Perfection in skin
she’d called him, always with a dreamy look in her eyes, like she could still see him to that day. Their relationship had become his gold standard upon which all others were measured. He wanted a woman who looked at him the way Rosie did when she talked about her husband.

Lucas left for college and set out on an absurd quest to find
perfection in skin
. Girl after girl, woman after woman, none of them measured up and he became jaded enough to think that kind of perfection didn’t exist.

His parents hadn’t really understood why he’d been so inconsolable when Rosie died. How could he tell them that she’d been the parent they’d never been—that it was Rosie who had taught him about love and understanding?

That with her gone, he had no direction anymore.

And damn it to hell and back if he hadn’t heard Rosie laughing every time he and Mercedes poked at each other. It was like her ghost knew how much more relaxed he was with Mercedes—how life had become
fun
again. All those years searching among high society and celebrities and his first glimpse of
perfection in skin
came in the guise of a charity worker from Queens.

Could Mercedes really be something worth holding onto?

Snap out of it, Bellamy. Just because she’s the most intriguing woman you’ve ever met doesn’t mean anything. Different doesn’t equate to special. The only difference between her and the others is this one’s not after your money. Don’t let your guard down or she’ll end up sneaking in and stealing the one thing you can’t replace.

The weights clanged as he dropped the bar back onto the rack. Damn it. He’d never get her out of his system as long as she remained such a mystery. Whether he liked it or not, he wanted to know Mercedes Vega. He just needed to figure out how to convince her to let him in.

…

Eight hours. Mercedes hadn’t seen or heard from Lucas in over eight hours. She’d wanted time to think but hadn’t really expected him to pay attention to the note she’d slid under his door.

Lucas,

Have to book my Malfini excursion and then take care of some other stuff. I’ll meet yo
u at your suite after dinner.

xoxo

Mercedes

She’d thought the hugs and kisses might have been overkill, but then…no Lucas when she hid out with the older people to play shuffleboard. No Lucas at dinner—at least not anywhere near the empty seat at her table. No Lucas at the Rising Tide Bar. Or when she sat down to watch
Chicago
in the ship’s theater. Though she did have fleeting thoughts of him during “Cell Block Tango.” And then she left with lingering guilt.

She got exactly what she wanted. No Lucas until long after dinner.

So why did she feel so damned empty? Like there was supposed to be someone in that seat next to her every time she sat down?

It was stupid. Beyond stupid.

Wasn’t playing hard to get supposed to work on men? After all, he’d practically stalked her earlier when she’d tried to put some space between them. Certainly an official “leave me alone” should have sent him over the edge.

Then again, Mercedes had always been too straightforward for games like this. And the way the day was unfolding made her feel like she was back in Junior High rather than a grown woman with an important goal. Time to remember who she was and get back on track.

Determined to move forward with her plan—but in a more direct way—she marched to his suite. She didn’t want to avoid him, and she sure as hell didn’t want to wait around for him to make the next move.

It’s for the sake of the kids and everything I promised them
.
It’s for my redemption.

But deep down she knew it was more than that. She wanted to spend every waking and sleeping moment with him. She wanted to exhaust herself in him. By the time she knocked on the door to his suite, every nerve ending tingled with need.

When he opened the door and immediately shoved her against the wall to capture her mouth, she instinctively wrapped a leg around him. Revenge. This was just revenge sex. Nothing more. According to Eva, she was even allowed to enjoy it. She just needed to remember her end game. Of course with the way he smelled and felt and tasted…
Dios.
She couldn’t quite remember the game at all for a minute.

“A note? I come back from the pool to find a note? And then you make me wait until almost midnight.” His lips blazed heat down her throat between words, and Mercedes’s eyes rolled back in her head. If he kept this up, there’d be no control left for her to cling to. “
Midnight
, Mercedes. Are you trying to drive me insane?”

“Only with want,
amado
.”

He growled against her skin and she almost came on the spot. “I’ve spent the entire day wanting you.”

That was enough. For the first day, it had to be. She couldn’t hold out for more. “Then take me so I won’t ever be able to forget you.”

…

She woke in the morning to a piece of paper on the pillow next to her.

My turn. Woke early and wanted to get in a run before excursions. See you tonight if not sooner. Malfini, you said? Why on earth would you want to go there?

Luc

No hugs or kisses from him. No sign he felt anything but lust. And lust definitely wasn’t love. Damn. Considering the way he’d rocked her world last night, Mercedes should’ve been relieved that she had time to pull herself together before they had to get back to work tonight.

Which was the reason she couldn’t figure out why her heart fluttered when he climbed on the little boat after the cruise ship landed in Haiti. What was he doing here? As he’d pointed out, there were other, more exclusive excursions at this port of call. More importantly, why was she reacting to him like a teenager with a crush? She needed to get her head on straight.
He
was supposed to fall for
her
, not the other way around. No matter what else, not that.

“Uh…sir?” She wasn’t sure if the guy piloting the boat was normally called captain or not, but sir felt safe. “This boat goes to a couple different excursions, right?”
Please say yes.

The man grinned at her, his teeth startlingly bright against his dark skin. When he spoke, his English carried more than a hint of the native French accent. “No, ma’am. We’re all going to the beautiful beach of Malfini. I’ll maroon us there for two hours of the most amazing water and sand you’ve ever seen.”

Marooned. Stranded. On a secluded beach. Sure there were other people with them, but whenever she and Lucas were anywhere near each other, magnetic attraction increased until they were pulled together. Already, she couldn’t resist looking at him.

Lucas leaned against the edge of the boat, his feet kicked out, sunglasses hiding his eyes as he tipped his head back to soak in the sun. Like most of the men, he’d already taken off his shirt. Unlike most of them, he owned it. While they were either showing off, flexing muscles and trying to posture, or caving in on themselves like they wanted to hide, Lucas had a relaxed air none of them could match. Clearly he didn’t feel the need to prove how delicious he was, all muscles and tan and…

She tore her gaze away the instant she realized she wanted to lick him and see if he tasted as good as she remembered. Nothing good could come of that, only a whole lot of bad.

Stupid addict. She hadn’t touched drugs—or ridiculously wealthy men—in years, but a couple nights spent imbibing in Lucas Bellamy and she couldn’t stop jonesing for her next fix. And then he was next to her, invading her space as well as her thoughts.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Call me crazy, but shouldn’t you have one of those overpriced beach cabanas or something? After all, ‘why on earth would you want to go to Malfini?’” She adjusted her hat as the boat picked up speed and the wind threatened to tear it off.

“Because I wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to spend the day lying next to you? Yeah. That’s it. Never happen.”

Never. If she’d had a way to pummel her heart so it stayed grounded, she would have. “If I hadn’t told you my plans, what would you have done? Stalked me? Dug through my things to find my ticket?”

“It sounds so creepy when you say it like that.” Someone bumped him as they moved past, and Lucas braced his arms against the edge of the boat, pinning her in place. The way his gaze raked over her was predatory and hungry again. Either he couldn’t get enough of her or he was trying to make sure he had his fill by the time they disembarked at the end of the week. “Besides, I would never have to snoop, not with how much you talk in your sleep.”

She talked in her sleep? Since when? She tamped down her rising panic and tried to play off the revelation as unimportant. “Really? And what else did I have to say?”

His shrug drew her gaze to the muscles of his shoulders and the teeth marks she’d left there last night. “It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but I am really curious who Eva is and why you’d need a plan B. You were pretty insistent about it.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. Eva’s name wasn’t associated with Better Todays yet—at least not publicly. So he wasn’t lying. What the hell conversation had her subconscious been having? She could barely handle plan A; a second one might be her undoing.

“Hey.” Lucas tucked her hair behind her ear. “I swear you didn’t spill any company secrets or anything. I thought it was cute.”

Of course he did. He wasn’t the one trying to make
her
miserable—she hoped. “Sorry. I just didn’t realize I did that. It’s kind of uncomfortable to think about.”

“Ah. Then let’s hit the beach and I’ll ply you with alcohol until you tell me everything voluntarily. It won’t matter what you mutter about in your sleep then.” He winked, but Mercedes had to force her smile.

Some secrets were only for those closest to her, and no amount of booze would pry them loose. But if she didn’t drink with him, it’d seem like she had something to hide.