up with mirth. And why wouldn’t they? Could she turn any more shades of red or trip over her tongue any faster?
“You are understandably upset,” he assured her, still holding her hand captive between his. “But you surely realize that we must have a plan to pay for the items Mr. Fletcher charged in the ship’s shops and—”
What was wrong with this picture? With a firm tug, Lola freed her hand from the captain’s.
“Wait a minute! You think I planned to get ripped off?” she retorted. “After I finally convinced Fletcher to come on this trip—and to set a wedding date!—and I arranged to be away from my business for eight days—”
The men’s smiles were tightening, probably because guests were parading by in their finery, on the way to the Captain’s Gala Reception. Lola paused, to pull her foot from her mouth again.
“I’m sorry. I detest women who make a scene, or who whine and play helpless,” she said in a lower tone. “But dammit, I didn’t come on this cruise to get broadsided by a jerk who’s allergic to commitment—and who’s run off with a woman he just met! Not to mention a helluva lot of my money!”
“Please, Miss Wright,” the concierge said, his eyes shining like a summertime sky. “Fantasy Cruise Line understands such emergencies, and I’m sure we can work these matters out. Now that we’ve reported the theft of your credit cards—”
“If you could create the man of your fantasies, who would he be, Lola?”
She sucked air at the intensity of Rio DeSilva’s topaz gaze. His voice soothed her like warm, sweet brandy. Such a question came like a bolt from the blue—an outrageous question, from a man she’d met just today!
But he was serious. He was still focused on her, standing tall yet relaxed; just his presence suddenly settled all the conflicts about Fletch and her credit cards. Or at least she forgot all about them as her lips parted and she returned his soulful gaze.
This wasn’t idle chitchat he was making. He expected an answer! And with three handsome men in uniform watching her, Lola sensed she’d better come up with something coherent.
If you could create the man of your fantasies, who would he be, Lola?
It didn’t help that the captain and the concierge were smiling expectantly, as though they could see through their cohort’s ploy—and her silky robe, as well. As though they might decide their course of action after hearing her reply to Rio DeSilva’s loaded question.
She blinked, tugging her lapels together. She was a free woman now, so she could answer this security agent’s question any way she liked, right? So why not lay it all out? These three heroes of the high seas might as well know exactly what she expected of any male she might create!
“I want a man who’ll make a home and a family with me,” she replied in a thoughtful murmur. “A man who’ll be king of his castle and treat me like a queen. His queen.”
Rio’s sensual mouth softened with a wistful smile.
“A refreshing revelation, in this day and age,” he replied with a nod. “And what man wouldn’t want to build his world around you, Lola? To lavish his love upon you in a hundred ways each day? But surely there’s more.”
Lola’s eyes widened. Why had they gone from discussing repayment plans to writing a script for Fantasy Island? Would the floor open up and send her swooping down a chute into the open sea, if she said the wrong thing? Captain Scandalous and Mr. Kingsley looked like guys who played by Old World rules. She’d better beware of stepping on their chivalrous yet chauvinistic toes with that attitude Fletch had always ragged her about.
And why don’t you just play along? the voice in her head piped up.
It’s your vacation, remember? A girl doesn’t get many chances to make men LOOK—and here’s yours, honey!
“Well—since this is a fantasy, after all,” she went on in a bolder tone, “I want a man who respects my intelligence and business savvy! A life partner who understands that I must work very hard to maintain my accounts and my professional reputation!”
Her heart was pounding now, her need for nicotine overridden by Rio’s invitation to dream big!
“A man who enjoys my success as well as his own,” she added emphatically. “Yet he’ll cuddle me when the chips are down, and—and help me believe in myself again!”
The area behind the crescent information desk rang with a silence so profound, it blocked out the sounds of the well-dressed crowd going to the gala.
Clive Kingsley smiled, his face alight with interest. “And what is it you do, Ms. Wright?”
While he was the most reserved of the trio, in his conservative navy blue uniform and a tie that matched his eyes, Lola sensed a sincere interest in her professional accomplishments. And perhaps her personal attributes, as well.
“I’ve created a chain of menswear stores called Well Suited,” she replied, standing taller. “I operate on the premise that men on any level rise higher faster if they’re better dressed—not just designer suits and high-end Italian shoes,” she added fervently, “but advice, from my specially trained staff, about which styles play up their bodies to their best advantage. How to present themselves well for any occasion, whether it be corporate interviews or class reunions.”
“The classic ‘clothes make the man’ concept, eh?” Clive’s grin held a delicious secret: he was choosing his words as carefully as he’d select truffles from the high-end chocolatier on the ship. “Not an easy sell, in this era where khakis and polo shirts are considered acceptable business attire.”
Lola beamed her appreciation at the insightful Brit. Then she let her gaze linger on his imperial physique.
“You wear slacks with a thirty-four inch waist and take the same measure at the inseam, don’t you, Mr. Kingsley?”
He stood taller, his interest—and his zipper—more piqued than before.
Lola’s voice lowered into that seductive tone she reserved for closing deals with tightwad tycoons, selling them three suits rather than two. “And you’ve wisely chosen pleated pants, because that jock sock you call underwear holsters an eight-inch pistol, I’m guessing. And it’s half-cocked right now.”
DeSilva and the captain snickered, but the way Kingsley shifted, his eyes widening with admiration, made Lola feel bolder. After all, this was an adult cruise and these three men were here to ensure her pleasure, despite the havoc Fletch had wreaked upon her finances. It was their place to serve, which implied she was their mistress.
Lola liked that idea!
“While I’m on a roll, I’m going to press for the ultimate fantasy,” she continued with a shimmy that made her nipples whisper against her robe. “I want a man who’ll drive me over the edge with passion, until I come—and come again, dammit! A lover who’ll spend the time I need to—who’ll take control until I lose it! A man who’ll keep me coming all night long!”
Skorpio Skandalis stuffed his hands in his pockets, his nostrils flaring like a stallion’s as his eyes lit up with a wicked awareness of her. The temperature of the little alcove rose with his body heat.
“Well,
