“And what?”
All these sensations—the food, the view, the scent of the sea—seemed to open her up, and she found herself admitting things she hadn’t ever before, even to Meg. For some reason, maybe because of what they’d done that first night, she felt like she could tell him anything about this part of herself.
She shifted in her seat. “I felt sexy posing that way. Like I was being decorated, celebrated.”
“You should be celebrated, Ruby.”
“No—”
“Don’t argue with me.” His tone was firm, but he was smiling and waved a shrimp in her direction as he spoke.
He glanced out the window to the endless ocean and then at her. “You grow up around here?”
She nodded. “Actually, about one mile from this very spot. Of course, there wasn’t a Ritz-Carlton here then. In fact, I spent many hours on this beach that’s been so neatly tamed. When I was a girl, you took your life in your hands just to get to the water.”
“So, you were a risk-taker, then?”
“No, not really. But my parents loved the ocean, and we spent a lot of time here and at the marina. We were always in the water, always sandy and salty. My mom always said my sister and I were part mermaid.” But Mom had been the one to disappear into that liquid sunset, not Ruby or Claire. While their folks had been off sailing the world, the girls had been landlocked.
“Where are your parents now?”
She sipped another few drops of champagne. “Being a mechanic was just something Dad did to pay the bills. He was really an artist himself, a free spirit; he painted, played music, wrote. Our house was always full of artists. But Dad could never stay in one place very long. He was always going on sailing trips.” She shrugged. “One day he never came back. Mom waited an entire year before going after him.”
“Did she find him?”
“Yeah. But Dad was never happy in one place. The sea was in his blood. So even if they came back, they never stayed long. I think they felt more at home on their boat than anywhere.”
“How old were you when your dad left?”
“Sixteen. Claire was thirteen.”
“Your parents left you to fend for yourselves when you and your sister were teenagers.” He said it as a statement, not a question, and his tone was rough.
“It wasn’t that bad. We were mature for our ages, and we knew how to take care of ourselves.”
“How did you afford to live?”
“Luckily the house was paid off. And they sent checks sporadically. I also had a grandmother in Florida who did what she could.”
“Did you work?”
She nodded. “I got a job assisting an event planner after school.” She tried to smile casually. “And the rest, as they say, is history.”
“You never thought about doing anything else? For a living?”
“Yes, I went to college and studied photography. But even at school I found I was always planning parties, mainly keggers,” she said with a laugh. “I guess it’s in my blood. I came back to this because I love organizing things, watching a series of plans come together. And it’s always a party; who doesn’t love a party?” She looked away, thinking she’d revealed way too much about herself. “Anyway, enough of that. So, you’ll really do the show for Boxware?”
He paused, and she wondered if he’d ask more personal questions, or say no. But then he smiled. “You took off your panties, even if you did lock them in a loaner car. But a deal’s a deal. We’ll do it.”
“That’s wonderful. Thank you, Mark, really.” She gave him her very best flirty look. “So, what would I have to do to get you to agree to a little preparty with James and some other high rollers?”
“I’m sure I’ll think of something, baby.” He took her hand and softly rubbed the pad of his thumbs over her knuckles. A lovely quiver of anticipation rushed through her. “After all,” he said, “we have all night.”
Ruby licked the last bit of butter off her fingertips. Mark had broken open a stack of crab legs and lobster tails and fed them to her in small, butter-dipped bites; she hadn’t been allowed any silverware during the entire meal. Now she was partway through a delicious plate of strawberries and melted chocolate. Thank God it was Sunday, the only day she cheated on her diet.
Mark watched her eat. “You enjoying yourself tonight, Ruby?”
“It’s been tolerable,” she joked, licking a drop of chocolate off her finger.
His eyes were dark, dilated behind his glasses. He liked it, liked watching her eat like this.
Leaning over the table, he handed her a strawberry. The look in his eyes caused an aching throb between her thighs. He said in a low voice, “I want you to dip this in the chocolate sauce and then pretend it’s my cock, Ruby. Lick it like you mean it. Show me what you’d do if it were my own flesh in your mouth.”