Jinxed!

At the name, anger reared up again. She didn’t want the ex to enter into this weekend, into her idyll with a man who’d so often made her forget what she’d left behind.

“Aren’t exes a taboo subject on romantic cruises?” she asked, trying to inject some levity into the conversation again.

“Taboo then.”

A beat passed, the clank of silverware covering discussions from the other tables. The almost imperceptible roll of the boat brought Erin back to the moment. Cruise. An affair. An escape.

Her stomach turned because, now, she couldn’t shake William’s memory. It pressed down on her shoulders, and she shrugged, trying to jar him off.

“Erin, are you okay?”

“Not used to the motion of the ocean, I think.” Before he could say anything else, she added, “I should get going to my spa appointment.”

She stood, hoping to leave her ire behind. God, this was what her one and only big relationship in life had left her with? And that was just another reason she didn’t want to get involved with anyone right now. The negativity, the disappointment.

But she couldn’t leave Wes like this. It wasn’t fair. Not to either of them.

Summoning a smile-which was always so easy around this man-she leaned down, resting her lips against his ear. Wow, he smelled so good-rugged, like surf and clean air.

“I’ll see you back in the room in an hour?” she asked, pulse picking up speed.

He turned his face so that his mouth touched her jawline. Softly, he kissed her in answer, his hand skimming her hip as she moved away.

When she left, she didn’t look back.

Just like she planned to do when her time with Wes was over.

4

ERIN TOOK AN ELEVATOR TO the spa on the twelfth deck, her head more clouded than she’d ever thought possible on a party weekend. Wasn’t she supposed to be relaxing by now? Wasn’t she supposed to have become the Cosmo girl at this point?

Well, she was going to start, dammit.

She checked in at the front desk, filled out a health and waiver form and then greeted her masseur. He was a slender man named Justin with dark skin and a soft voice, but he snapped his gum as if creating punctuation marks. He guided her to the private room where she’d strip and indulge in her first massage ever-a hot-stone treatment.

Before leaving, he went over the health form with her then slammed the door on his way out. Wow, weren’t masseurs usually more gentle? But she didn’t let that matter. Nope. Instead, she took in the small, dim room, candlelight flickering amid the smell of herb-laced oils and the sound of ethereal music. In the corner, a minifountain burbled water over rocks.

When was the last time she’d pampered herself? The candy shop had consumed so much of her and Cheryl’s attention for the past few years that she hadn’t taken the time. Also, William had thought massages were a waste of money, so she’d abstained, even though he never would have known what she spent her money on: though engaged, they hadn’t gotten to the point of combining their bank accounts, much less picking out china patterns.

Frustration sneaked up on her again, so she redirected her energy, taking off her jeans, sweater, shirt and underthings. She’d always been modest about her body, but now, with her newfound freedom, the idea of being buck naked in front of another person seemed liberating.

She slipped under the sheet, lying on her belly and resting her face on the doughnut cushion, where she could see the tiled floor. Her breasts pressed against the table, making her ultra-aware of them.

Eyes closed, relaxing, relaxing. The music swept over her, and she allowed herself to wallow in bare-skinned joy at being away from work, being with Wes.

She imagined him naked, too, ready to slide under the sheet with her, ready to press his skin against hers. The nebulous friction of her fantasy made her damp, her clitoris thudding.

Justin took a while to return, but when he did she’d gotten herself so mentally worked up that she had a hard time coming down.

Chill out, she told herself. Save yourself for the cabin.

As the door eased shut, the sound of waves frothed from the music speakers. The sheet slithered down her back, her masseur resting it just at the curve of her butt. She felt a little naughty doing this, as if she was were an artist’s model seductively flashing a room. She could hear him stepping away to rub oil over his hands, then approach the table again, silent.

But that was fine. A chatty massage didn’t sound appealing. All she wanted to do was wilt, free her mind.

When he skimmed the warm oil over her back, she sighed. His hands were big, strong, slightly callused. He worked the slickness in, spreading it over her like cream to be licked off later.

Over her shoulder blades, up to her neck, down, down, near her waist, over the small of her back, to the top of her butt…

With the power of his downward stroke, he pushed away the sheet, palms molding her butt, his thumbs sweeping lower, down inside her inner thighs.

Whoa…

Erin jerked her head off the cushion, looking over her shoulder. And there, with an arrogant grin, stood the anti-Justin. Wes.

Automatically, she reached for the sheet and covered most of her body. It was different with Wes-she didn’t know why-but she felt exposed now. “You’ve taken up massage in your spare time?”

Wes, who’d shed his leather jacket somewhere along the line, stood back and folded his arms across a wide, T-shirted chest. A dark lock of hair covered his brow, making him a nasty boy.

“I followed you up here and…struck a deal with little Justin, that’s all.”

“A deal.”

“I’m a regular wheeler dealer.” He grinned. “It’s my talent in life.”

Wes didn’t add that it was also the bane of his existence. He’d always been blessed with a silver tongue, but that was part of the reason people never took him seriously. With as few words as possible, he’d always created his own reputation before anyone else could label him to their satisfaction. Problem was, at some point, he’d started to believe all the things he’d made himself out to be, and he’d dreaded the day when someone would call him on it.

Yet that was the thing about Erin. She’d probably be the one to do it. He both looked forward to it and feared it. Just wanted it to be over and know that she didn’t think any less of him for the truth-that his polish would wear off all too easily if tested.

As he drank in the sight of her on the table, candlelight licking her skin, he thought she definitely was worth risking his ego. The sheet didn’t cover much: most of one ripe breast was exposed, as well as her ass. Damn, the curves of those bared cheeks, smooth and firm, had felt so good. He was dying to get back to work again.

“You’re gonna get Justin fired,” Erin said, but she didn’t seem displeased.

“That’s not what he said when I handed him that wad of cash and told him to take a break.” Wes cocked his head. “Well, okay, he did say something about getting into big trouble if his boss ever found out, but he was convinced once I added a bit more incentive to the pile.”

Erin shook her head. “You devil.”

Wes unfolded his arms from across his chest. Lust was spearing his gut, thrusting with every passing second. “Turn back over, Erin. Give me my money’s worth.”

“Hey, you say that like I’m a-”

“You’re not.” He hadn’t meant to put it in those terms. He would never treat her that way; it stung that she thought he might, mostly because he knew his previous encounters with women were no better than meaningless