straps with heels like icicles. “Fuck-me shoes at their finest, don’t you agree?”
Lola’s jaw dropped. Had this proper Brit really said that?
Yet the grin twitching at his lips made her giggle. And when Kingsley deftly fastened a strand of black pearls around her neck, she didn’t have to ask if they were real. Not to mention terribly pricey.
“How can I ever repay—”
“Ah-ah!” He shushed her with a gentle finger, his face alight with sensual pleasure. “Wear it all and be wonderful, dear Lola. Wear it, and believe.”
She returned his gaze, feeling like the princess in a fairy tale—thinking miracles just might happen, and she could indeed win some private time with Captain Scandalous. Maybe upstairs in that Aphrodisia Suite.
Was that why he’d put her there in the first place?
The phone rang and Kingsley went behind the counter to answer it. As Lola turned in front of the mirror, it struck her as odd that the concierge on a ship this size would be managing such a boutique. Surely he’d have full-time duties dealing with passengers, since a well-versed saleslady could’ve assisted her with these gowns.
Or perhaps Clive Kingsley had taken her on as his personal mission. An intriguing thought, as she sneaked a peek at his face in her mirror. Brits had always fascinated her with their wry humor and impeccable etiquette and—
He held her gaze in the glass with sexy blue eyes that then wandered along her profile.
Lola melted. He did have intentions, and they went beyond seeing that Skorpio Skandalis treated her like a queen rather than a captive! Perhaps Clive intended to challenge the captain for the pleasure of her company!
“I see, sir…yes, of course, captain. I’m sure she’ll understand,” he spoke stiffly into the phone.
But she bloody well won’t like it, was what he didn’t say.
Lola frosted over. “I suppose he’s come up with some excuse—”
“Actually, our captain has been called away to an emergency. So he sends his regrets—and me,” came a voice from the doorway.
In strolled Aric, looking young and wonderful in a close-cut tux of navy blue with a cravat and cummerbund of bright lime and silver stripes. On anyone else such a combination would look outrageous, yet Lola couldn’t help gaping at him. His hair hung in loose, gleaming curls that made her fingers itch to get lost in them.
He offered her an elbow. “I guess you’re stuck with me, Priestess. Shall we dance?”
8
All right, so it really wasn’t such a sacrifice, walking into the grand ballroom with the stud muffin who’d given her this miracle make-over. Aric eased her out of the doorway to pause for a moment—either so he could read the room, or to give her a chance to make a grand entrance. Lola wasn’t pleased that Skandalis had stood her up, but she wasn’t surprised, either. Of course he’d get called away, just when she’d turned from a caterpillar into a butterfly! Wasn’t that how her luck was running on this trip?
But here in this ballroom aglow with crystal chandeliers and champagne punch, where more than a hundred gloriously dressed guests swayed to the beat of a small orchestra, Lola decided to shine on. In the past hour she’d gone from feeling utterly exhausted and peeved to feeling like the High Exalted Ruler of the Universe. Way beyond a mere Priestess.
Not a sensation to be wasted. No matter whom she’d planned to be dancing with.
So as Aric led her to the parquet dance floor, she didn’t balk at being shown off. Didn’t protest when he extended his arm like a dancer in a competition, gripping only her fingertips as he held her in his dramatic gaze. And then they walked—no, they were gliding—to the center of the floor. On cue, the trumpets announced them with a fanfare, and the orchestra seguéd into the high style of a Viennese waltz.
It was no time to tell him she was a little rusty; that she’d forgotten all but the ONE-two-three of the beat she’d learned in a college ballroom dance class.
Not a problem, his silvery eyes said, and he cut the theatrics to lead her in a very basic waltz pattern. Soon they were surrounded by other couples, some who’d spent many hours on the dance floor, and Lola relaxed. Simply enjoyed feeling like she was in one of those scenes from a grand old movie, where the entire roomful of dancers turned and dipped gracefully.
“Thank you for this, Aric.”
He blinked. Either thinking of something else, or totally immersed in Strauss.
“For this wonderful evening,” she explained. “For the way you made my hair and face look like some swanky model’s, and the way you’ve escorted me here at the last minute, and—”
“Not a problem.”
Lola stifled her sigh. Any fantasy this Cabana Boy costarred in would have its limitations, right?
But it’s still a pretty wonderful feeling, isn’t it? To be dancing like I know what I’m doing—like I deserve to be the belle of the ball just this once?
Her lithe partner stepped back to raise her arm, leading her into a showy spin. With a grin she obliged him—until the squeeze of his hand at the top of the turn made her grimace. Her diamond had turned, and was now being driven into the flesh between her fingers.
Aric’s pouty lips parted in confusion. “Did I step on—”
“No, this thing’s rubbing me the wrong way!”
Stepping out of the other dancers’ path, Lola yanked the ring from her finger and stuffed it into his tux pocket, behind his lime-striped kerchief.
“Fletch will not ruin the rest of this day!” Lola whispered with a triumphant grin. Her finger looked naked without the rock she’d sported these past several weeks, yet the sense of freedom she now felt made her grin giddily at Cabana Boy.
“Dance on, sir! I think I’m getting the hang of this Priestess thing!”
With a sly smile her warden complied, easing them gracefully into the flow of the waltz. He really was a treat, all tricked out and squiring her around this way—not that she’d swell his head any more by telling him so. It was enough to float from one downbeat to the next with his hand on her back, telling herself he’d left duty behind to join her in this grand fantasy. Wondering if Aric had any inclination to take it farther….
It was then Lola spotted him: a figure in dazzling dress whites that set off his olive face and raven hair. He was whirling and gliding with an innate grace no mere Arthur Murray graduate could attain, because his supreme confidence carried him across the floor with a silver-haired lady who dripped in diamonds. Tall and slender, she, too, wore a sophisticated white—
Sophisticated, maybe, but she looks like a cigarette with tits.
Lola nearly choked when Captain Skandalis caught her eye. Winked at her, no less!
“By God, if he thinks he can—”
Aric twirled her expertly under his raised arm, so she had to
