“Like what?” I ease up and sit back. The sexual tension between us just up and evaporated.
“Like I stop being a person and I start being a threat. Like you did yesterday, right before you called me names and stormed out on me. Are you going to do that again?” Pulling the sheets up, she covers herself. “Because if you are, can you just skip to the part where you leave?”
If it wasn’t obvious already, playtime’s over. How did we go from soft and sexy to being at each other’s throats again in under a minute? I sigh. “Just tell me what fucking happened.”
She blows her hair out of her eyes. “Someone from your dad’s company invested in Mom’s store. She thought it was him, being all super-secret philanthropist in love.”
Shit.
“Well he wasn’t, and when he found out about the money, he was pissed. He thinks she tried to scam him, to use him to save her business. Wouldn’t listen to a word Mom said.” She looks right at me, her brown eyes darkening. “Sound like someone you know?”
Fuck. My mind’s racing. No good deed goes unpunished. Boom, right back in my face. Angie’s going to be furious.
Double fuck.
“It was me.”
She’s looking out the window, but her eyes snap to me at my words. “Excuse me?”
“I sent the money. Nobody was supposed to know.”
Her eyes go huge before they narrow, her brows furrowing angrily. “You set up my mom?”
“No! I knew her stupid flower shop was in trouble, so I had one of dad’s companies invest. I have a bit of clout in the company, even if most of the time he thinks my office is a waste of space. It wasn’t a lot. Just enough to keep her afloat for a bit. I didn’t want money to be an issue.” I shrug. “For what it’s worth, I’m impressed she figured out the connection.”
“You are...” Angie sits up on the bed and clutches the sheets, not out of modesty but anger. “...the most paranoid, egotistical...” Kneeling up on the bed, she points at the door, an image of beautiful, stark naked fury. “...manipulative prick I know.” Her heavy breathing makes her tits heave in a way that’s ridiculously distracting.
I tear my eyes away to meet her icy gaze. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, but this was supposed to be one of the good things. “I was trying to help, for Christ’s sake.”
“Giving money as a freaking test isn’t helping, dimwit. What, it wasn’t enough to screw up what we had before we even had a chance? You had to go ruin it for our parents too?” She picks up a pillow and flings it at me which I only barely bat out of the way. Arguing while naked isn’t playing fair. Not when you look like Angie.
Alright, I’m done with this. I can’t win. “You know what? Fuck this. I’m leaving. I’ll ask for another cabin for the rest of the cruise. You win. Happy?” I talk while I pull dry clothes out of my suitcase. She huffs, still naked and in full view, watching me pick up my stuff.
Does that make me hard? Of course it does, but I ignore it. I’ll get my own cabin, jerk off and I won’t even have to worry about her walking in on me. Fucking magnificent. I tug the zippers shut on my suitcase and open the door. With a last glance back, I meet her steely gaze with one of my own. “Have a nice fucking cruise.” Then I step out, closing the door behind me.
Done.
Chapter 32: Angie
I shift on the deck chair, finding a better angle for reading. A sip of sangria, then back to rippling chests and heaving bosoms. Funny how the reality of muscle bound alpha males never seems to match up with the fantasy. It’d be nice if every time I picture the hero in this story, he didn’t look like Gavin.
I haven’t talked to him in three days. The storm raged on for most of the day we fought, and then blew out overnight. Since then I’ve been living in paradise, and hating every second of it. I got what I wanted, so I should be happy. Pleased. Thrilled. I have an amazing suite to myself, a magnificent view, a huge bed, and best of all, I don’t have a hotshot asshole of a stepbrother running around cracking jokes and trying to get in my panties.
Whoopde-freakin-do.
It’s given me plenty of time to work on my tan, and while I’ll never make a serious dent in my to-be-read pile, I’ve made the best progress in months. Just me, my e-reader, the blazing sun and sangrias. Perfect.
And lonely. I spend my days in imaginary worlds and my nights ignoring how empty my bed feels. If the storm hadn’t knocked out the cell antenna it might not be so bad, but I can’t even get in touch with Cassie or Mom. It’s enough to make me miss Gavin’s paranoia and asshattery. Not really. But I do miss his smile, and the way he sometimes looked at me before it all fell apart.