“You’ll never get to dance for us if you’re cooked to a crisp,” Sig adds, drawing my eyes to him.
“We can’t have that,” Reese says, his gaze still locked on me. “Especially since she’s dancing tonight.”
Sig gives an excited whoop and I smile in his direction. I sit up and scoot away from Reese so that I can regain some kind of composure and clarity of thought. Even that doesn’t completely alleviate the drugging affect he has on me.
“I didn’t think we’d get entertainment since we aren’t clients.”
Reese answers Sig, but I can still feel that his eyes are on me. “Normally that’s the case. Kennedy is the only dancer we have right now, but I’m sure she can give us a dance that will more than make up for the others.”
“Hell yeah, she can,” Sig agrees wholeheartedly.
I clear my throat. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’d better get downstairs and start getting ready.”
Reese puts out a hand to stop me. “I didn’t say you were dancing now.”
“But I need time to prepare,” I tell him, pulling away.
“Not that long.”
I move to stand, trying my best to shake off the disconcerting web he has somehow managed to weave around me. “This is my first dance here. I don’t know where anything is at.”
“I’ll give you whatever you need,” he replies softly.
“No, you stay with your guests. I’ll call Karesh.”
Before Reese can argue further, Sig interrupts. “Don’t forget who you’re dancing for tonight,” he teases with a wink.
I can feel Reese’s eyes on me as I answer him. “Oh, I won’t.”
As I make my way back to my room, I take the route I took the first time I left the crew quarters, which is by way of the kitchen. There are four people, all in hats and aprons, bustling about, probably getting dinner preparations under way. The guy I saw yesterday, the one I assumed was the chef with his taller-than-everyone-else’s white hat perched atop his rusty-red head, glances up from some raw meat he’s inspecting and smiles in my direction.
“May I help you?” he asks politely.
“I was just hoping to get a bottle of water to take back to my room. Between the sun and the drinks…” I shake my head as I let the sentence trail off. The chef wipes his hands and comes around to where I’m standing.
“You’re Kennedy, right?” he asks, still smiling as he reaches me.
“I am,” I answer, finding his light brown eyes friendly and warm. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“We haven’t, but Brian told me all about you. I’m Lee Howard, Head Chef. It’s nice to meet you.”
He extends his hand and I clasp it for a firm handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Lee.”
He pulls me in to whisper conspiratorially from one corner of his mouth. “Technically all the crew is supposed to get their supplies from the kitchen in the bow, but those rosy cheeks are telling me you need the good stuff today.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t…I just didn’t even think about that…” Now I feel like an ass for stopping in here like I belong with the people up on deck rather than the worker bees below. I hold out my hand to stop Lee as he turns toward an enormous walk-in fridge. “I’ll get something down there. I’m so sorry.”
He waves me off, continuing on into the refrigerator. “No skin off my nose, Kennedy. Here,” he says, handing me a brilliantly blue bottle of sparkling spring water that probably costs twenty dollars rather than the fifty-cent bottles of flat water that are probably stocked for the crew.
“No, I can’t. Really. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Sweetie, enjoy it while you can.” Lee pushes the water into my hand and turns me toward the exit that will take me to my room. “Come talk to me sometime. Any friend of Brian’s is a friend of mine.”
I glance over my shoulder to see him give me a smile and a wave before he heads back across the kitchen to return to checking his meat.
Checking his meat…that sounds bad, I think, snickering to myself as I crack open my bottle of water and wind through the halls toward my room.
Once inside the cool, dim interior of my quarters, I collapse on the bed and take a few more sips of water, enjoying the light spin of my head as I think back on the day.
Reese has been charming and attentive, flirtatious and sexy. He’s treated me like precious glass all day. Just like the old Reese did.
I frown against the bitter thoughts that follow, thoughts of how that Reese was a figment of my imagination, of how that Reese up and left me without a word after all that happened. I’m teetering between the glow of pleasure and the gloom of memories when I hear a knock at my door. My heart lurches inside my chest and a little bubble tickles the pit of my stomach.
I bolt up off the bed and hurry to the door, pausing for a fraction of a second to take a deep breath and school my features before I open the door. I wouldn’t want Reese to think I’m happy to see him.
But the person on the other side of the door isn’t Reese. It’s Karesh. I have to swallow my disappointment and hide it behind a courteous smile. “Hi, Karesh.”
He nods. “Ms. Moore. May I come in?”
“Of course,” I say, stepping back to allow him to enter. For a moment, my arm twitches as I consider hiding my bottle of expensive water. But it’s too late. Karesh’s eyes have already made note of it. Or at least that’s what my prickly conscience is telling me.
“All the drinks and the sun today…” I tell him with a smile, tipping up the bottle as though I have no reason to hide it. Karesh simply smiles.
“I understand you’ll be dancing tonight. If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Oh,” I tell him, feeling stupid over the water now. “Yes, of course. I think I can find everything I need.”
“The showroom is directly below the lounge. You should be ready by nine.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“If you’ll let me know your music selection, I’ll let Armand know. He’s in charge of the sound system throughout the vessel.”
“Okay. Ummm, I guess Feelin’ Good by Michael Bublé if you have it.”
“If not, he can get it. We can procure virtually anything you want or need. If not immediately, then within a day or two, depending on where we are in the ocean.”