Michele Dunaway - Taming The Tabloid Heiress

Marilyn gave Joshua a wry smile as she lit up a cigarette and handed the lighter to Tatiana. “I just needed a smoke and the sun deck is just a little too popular. I mean, it’s just out the Topsider’s doors. And, of course, you know how fans follow Tatiana everywhere.”

Marilyn exhaled slowly and deliberately as she sized up Joshua. “Besides, Bill’s been looking for you.” With absolutely no concern or fear of Joshua’s anger at her intrusion, Marilyn flipped cigarette ashes over the rail.

“I told him that last I knew you were working the room. I would say that you were working it pretty fast. Looking for a better offer? Well, she’s an easy little thing.”

Joshua refused to dignify Marilyn with an answer. Defending Kit would be unwise. Anything he said to Marilyn would be twisted to her advantage. He shoved two fists into his pants pockets and scowled as Marilyn inhaled again.

As she blew out another stream of smoke, Joshua gazed at her mouth for a moment, wondering how she could pollute it. Then again, she always polluted something. The front-page trash she’d written about Joshua under her pseudonym Mary Lynn had cost his father his dream, but Marilyn didn’t care who she hurt. She had called Joshua a simpleton, laughed at his fury and moved on to her next victim.

He glared at Marilyn and Tatiana as they blocked his path, inwardly raging at them for destroying the kiss of a lifetime. Kit’s kiss had been fresh, tantalizing. He had explored her mouth with abandon, finding the mixture of wine and honey so delicious he had lost control. Never had he tasted such sweetness.

Ire and revulsion filled Joshua, at himself for degrading Kit, and at Marilyn for having the gall to make snide comments. He watched Marilyn flip the cigarette butt over the railing despite the signs posted indicating otherwise.

“You know, I might be wrong, but there’s something really familiar about your—” Marilyn deliberately searched for a delicate word “—companion. What did you say her name was?”

Joshua’s irritation reached a crescendo. He refused to confirm Marilyn’s fishing expedition. He’d wasted enough time. He needed to find Kit.

“I don’t think she wanted to be introduced to you. She’s got class.” Joshua purposely ignored Marilyn’s next tasteless comment as he pushed past her and headed for the stairs that led down to the club. Still he had heard her comment and it burned in his ears.

“That’s all right, darling. I’m well aware of who Kit O’Brien is. You’re right, she is classy. So classy she always rates the front page. See you in the papers.”

Joshua’s eyes blazed in fury as he threw open the door to the brightly lit interior passageway. With a final curse he set off after Kit.

ONCE IN HER ROOM, Kit threw her purse down on the neatly turned-down bed and sat down with an agitated thump. The mint carefully placed by the cabin steward on her pillow went flying. What was she thinking? What had she been doing? Two black shoes hit the floor and slid under the bed as she reached up under the black dress and hooked her fingers into her pantyhose. Kit removed the silky sheers and sent them flying under the bed with a vicious kick. Standing again, Kit assessed the damage to her face in the mirror over the sink.

Her lips looked as if they had been thoroughly kissed. Wait, who was she trying to fool? They had been thoroughly kissed. Her knees still wobbled from the way his mouth felt. She gently touched her puffy lips, remembering the way his lips had pressed down, possessing her. She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling how his tongue had searched her entire mouth, claiming it for himself. Kit’s eyelids flew open, and she stared at the reflection of her eyes in the mirror. Makeup remover. She needed makeup remover. Kit turned and found her toiletries case and brought it to the sink. With almost robotic movements she began to cleanse her face.

“Kit?” Kit heard Georgia’s voice as the door to the cabin opened a crack.

“I’m in here,” Kit called, splashing cool water on her face to remove the last of the soap.

Georgia stepped into the room. “Are you okay? Everyone’s headed to the theater, and I was worried about you. You never returned. Is it your ankle? Do I need to wrap it for you?”

“I’m just really tired. I’ve had only a few hours of sleep lately, and I’ve just hit my wall.” A small, tight smile accompanied her little white lie.

Georgia nodded sagely. “I understand, sugar. Eventually the body just drops.”

“Exactly.” Kit nodded. “So don’t worry about me. I’ll be asleep when you get back. Enjoy the show and the buffet. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to go?”

“No, go and have a great time.” Kit reassured Georgia again and reached for her dental floss. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Georgia reached for the door handle. “You know, I can’t believe how good Joshua Parker looked tonight! I know you think I’m crazy to like the writer better than the actors, but, ooh, sugar, in most cases the fantasies are better than the reality, y’know? But not with Joshua Parker. The reality is definitely much better. Wouldn’t you agree? Anyway, they’re showing the two-part series finale in the theater tonight, so, if you’re sure you don’t want to go…” Georgia’s voice trailed off, her desire to leave evident. Kit gave Georgia a resigned smile.

“Good night, Georgia. I’m sure I don’t want to go. I’ll catch the shows when they finally air on TV.” Kit wrapped the floss around her fingers. As the door clicked, Kit faced herself in the mirror again. A half smile teased at her cheek. She didn’t have any fantasies where Joshua Parker was concerned. But the reality…Kit’s green eyes suddenly tormented her from the mirror.

He had ravaged her with just one kiss, a kiss she had been powerless to stop. Fireworks had exploded in her brain, sending her catapulting out of control. Wine, sea air, a starry sky, and Kit had been putty in his hands. Joshua Parker had possessed her with just a kiss. Where was her New York City aloofness and disdain? Such a foreign feeling—no one had ever evoked the level of passion that Joshua drew from Kit in one dynamic kiss. In fact, she had dumped dog food over Blaine for a lesser sin—announcing their engagement—which was why she was hiding on the cruise in the first place.

Makeup removed and teeth brushed, Kit slipped out of the black dress and dropped it into a heap on top of her bunk. Frustrated, she flipped on the television set. The ship was running Last Frontier reruns non-stop, and she sat down to watch an episode. Kit didn’t understand the premise of the show, that man had conquered dimensional space and time travel, yet man had still not bettered his primeval ways. Throw in a couple of aliens and outer planetary beings, and the whole show somehow came together into a fast-paced, special-effects wonderland that had quickly become a cult sci-fi classic.

Kit turned off the television set. All she had learned was that the drifters were a group of people who wandered through time and other dimensions doing good deeds until their lives expired, whatever that meant. She still didn’t know which actor she was interviewing, either. Kit stared around the cabin and turned on the TV again. For a moment she thought she saw Joshua in a Hitchcock-like cameo.

He was wearing black, and the color suited him, giving him the sleekness of a panther. Watching his body move for just the few seconds he was on screen only heightened her awareness of how his body had felt under her touch. With a resigned shudder Kit turned off the TV and glanced at her watch. It was just now eleven, and Kit knew that all the LaFrofans were in the theater one deck below watching the screening of the last two episodes.

Like a caged tiger Kit paced the room in her silken pajamas, too on edge to sleep. Finally she yanked off her pajamas and, with a determined fierceness, dressed in a pair of flowing black pants, a white silk top and a matching black jacket.

She was not going to hide in her cabin. She was Kit O’Brien, by God, and she had weathered much worse unsavory press than being caught kissing someone. She pushed the thought of her father’s reaction out of her head. She could deal with him later. Compared to Joshua Parker and the illicit thoughts she had of him, her father would probably be the easier of the two. With newfound determination to get Joshua Parker out of her head, Kit slipped her feet into plain black skimmers, ran a brush through her hair, grabbed her purse and headed toward the casino.

Earlier the casino had been dark and empty, but now it hummed with life. While the casino was nowhere as large as the casinos she had experienced in Las Vegas, Nice or Monte Carlo, Kit immediately liked the intimate atmosphere.

Despite being two decks high, the casino was cozy. Steps led to an upper level, but Kit decided to remain where most of the gaming tables were. She surveyed the lower level room for a moment before heading over to the cashier to purchase some chips.

“Give me twenty red chips.” Kit watched as the girl swiped the credit card for $100, counted Kit’s chips out onto a tray and shoved both through the hole. Kit took the tray expertly and headed for the blackjack table with the red placard she had chosen upon her arrival.

She slid into the second open spot near the left edge of the semicircular table, and gave the young dealer a warm smile as she placed her tray on the table. The dealer was playing against three other players.

“Good evening,” he greeted her, and Kit guessed he was about twenty-three. “Are you in?”

“I’m in.” Kit slid a five-dollar chip onto the table. She gazed at her three tablemates. If the rings on their fingers were an indication, they were married. It was a perfect situation, even though with no one to her left she would be playing the blackjack position of third base. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”

“Breaking even.” The man to her right laughed, his slightly double chin bobbing as he slid some chips forward. “I’ve been sitting here with Connor for a while now, right, Connor?”

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