Home > Baby Bonanza(18)

Baby Bonanza(18)
Author: Maureen Child

Smiling, the woman found another matching shirt, dropped them both in a sack and held them out. Nick paid for the shirts before Jenna could dig in her purse. Then he took hold of her hand and, carrying the bag, led her back out onto the street.

“You didn’t have to buy them,” she told him once they were on their way to the dock again.

“Call it my first present to my sons.”

She stumbled a little and he tightened his hold on her hand, steadying her even while he felt his own balance getting shaky.

“So you believe me?”

Nick felt a cold, hard knot settle into the pit of his stomach. He looked into Jenna’s eyes and couldn’t find the slightest sign of deception. Was she too good at hiding her secrets? Or were there no secrets to hide? Soon enough, he’d know for sure. But for now “I’m starting to.”

Six

Three days later the ship docked in Acapulco.

“Oh, come on,” Mary Curran urged, “come ashore with Joe and me. He’s going scuba diving of all things, and I’d love some company while I spend all the money we saved by having this cruise comped.”

Laughing, Jenna shook her head and sat back on the sofa in the living room of Nick’s spectacular suite. “No, thanks. I think I’m going to stay aboard and relax.”

Mary sighed in defeat. “How you can relax when you’re staying in this suite with Nick Falco is beyond me. Heck, I’ve been married for twenty years and just looking at the guy gives me hot flashes.”

Jenna knew just what her friend meant. For the past few days she and Nick had been practically in each other’s pockets. They’d spent nearly every minute together, and when they were here in this suite, the spacious accommodations seemed to shrink to the size of a closet.

Jenna felt as if she were standing on a tight wire, uneasily balanced over a vat of lava. She was filled with heat constantly and knew that with the slightest wrong move, she could be immolated.

God, great imagery.

“Hello? Earth to Jenna?”

“Sorry.” Jenna smiled, pushed one hand through her hair and blew out an unsteady breath. “Guess my mind was wandering.”

“Uh-huh, and I’ve got a good idea where it wandered to.”

“What?”

“Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Mary leaned forward and squeezed Jenna’s hand briefly.

Embarrassed and just a little concerned that Mary might be right, Jenna immediately argued. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t.” Mary’s smile broadened. “I say Nick’s name and your eyes flash.”

“Oh God…”

“Hey, what’s the trouble? You’re both single. And you’re clearly attracted to each other. I mean, I saw Nick’s face last night at dinner whenever he looked at you.”

The four of them had had dinner together the night before, and though Jenna had been sure it would be an uncomfortable couple of hours—given the tension between her and Nick—they’d all had a good time. In fact, seeing Nick interacting with Joe Curran, hearing him laugh and tell stories about past cruises had really opened Jenna’s eyes.

For so long, she’d thought of him only as a player. A man only interested in getting as many women as possible into his bed. A man who wasn’t interested in anything that wasn’t about momentary pleasure.

Now she’d seen glimpses of a different man. One who could enjoy himself with people who weren’t members of the “celebrity crowd.” A guy who could buy silly T-shirts for babies he wasn’t even sure were his. A guy who could still turn her into a puddle of want with a glance.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mary asked quietly.

Jenna took a long, deep breath and looked around the room to avoid meeting Mary’s too-knowing gaze. Muted sunlight, diffused by the tinted glass, filled the room, creating shadows in the corners. It was quiet now, with Nick somewhere out on deck and the hum of the ship’s powerful engines silenced while in port.

Shifting her gaze to Mary’s, Jenna thought about spilling the whole story. Actually she could really use someone to talk to, and Mary had, in the past several days, already proven to be a good friend. But she couldn’t get into it now. Didn’t want to explain how she and Nick had come together, made two sons and then drifted apart. That was far too long a story.

“Thanks,” she said, meaning it. “But I don’t think so. Anyway, you don’t have time to listen. Joe will be waiting for you.”

Mary frowned at her, but apparently realized that Jenna didn’t feel like talking. Standing up, she said, “Okay, I’ll go. But if you decide you need someone to talk to…”

“I’ll remember. Thanks.”

Then Mary left and Jenna was alone. Alone with her thoughts, racing frantically through her mind. Alone with the desire that was a carefully banked fire deep inside. Suddenly antsy, she jumped to her feet, crossed the room and left the suite. She’d just go up on deck. Sit in the sun. Try not to think. Try to relax.

The business of running a cruise line kept Nick moving from the time he got up until late at night. People on the outside looking in probably assumed that he led a life of leisure. And sure, there was still time for that. But the truth was he had to stay on top of everything. This cruise line was his life. The one thing he had. The most important thing in the world to him. He’d worked his ass off to get this far, to make his mark. And he wasn’t about to start slowing down now.

“If the band isn’t working, contact Luis Felipe here in town,” he told Teresa, and wasn’t surprised to see her make a note on her PDA. “He knows all the local bands in Acapulco. He could hook us up with someone who could take over for the rest of the cruise.”

The band they’d hired in L.A. was proving to be more trouble than they were worth. With their rock star attitudes, they were demanding all sorts of perks that hadn’t been agreed on in their contracts. Plus, they’d been cutting short their last show of the evening because they said there weren’t enough people in attendance to make it worthwhile. Not their call, Nick thought. They’d been hired to do a job, and they’d do it or they’d get off the ship in Mexico and find their own way home.

“Got it,” Teresa said. “Want me to tell the band their days are numbered?”

“Yeah. We’ll be in port forty-eight hours. Give ’em twenty-four to clean up their act—if they don’t, tell ’em to pack their bags.”

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