Victoria’s Secret Wish(45)

I report, you decide.

G-G-Girl



“Shit.” Vic pushed the laptop away. “I was afraid she’d mention the prince. Using Rafe’s name was bad enough–”

“That bugger went on late night TV the day before we left port and announced he was coming.”

“Still. The name-dropping. She could ruin us.”

It all came back to confidentiality. “The prince could hardly expect once we returned to San Diego, none of the passengers would mention him being here.” Of course he’d known. In his own backward way, the kid was as publicity-hungry as Rafe. Besides, having the world know the prince was aboard could only bring more popularity.

“And God. What is this chick’s problem with you? Who have you pissed off?”

Damned if he knew. “First a philanderer, possibly with herpes, now a terrorist.” Oil off his back, but clearly Vic felt more strongly. “At this rate, I’ll be a serial killer by cruise end.”

“She’s clearly not concerned with reporting truth,” Vic mused. “We have no members of Congress on this cruise.” Government officials in the States knew better–they visited Fantasy Mountain, where anonymity could be guaranteed. “And you know what else? She didn’t report on the cougar dirty dance-off.” Her hands began waving about. “Which means she wasn’t there. We could get security footage, make a list of who all was there–”

“Except we’re closeted in our suite with the flu.” Whoa, Nellie. Time to stop the manhunt. “And Vic.” He took her hands, held them still in his own. “I plan to make you feel much better.”





Chapter 17



“Hmm. Not much happening on the Lido deck this morning,” Victoria mused, remote in hand. Onscreen, one lone couple in the pool, who might or might not be engaged in intercourse. “Still early, though.” The couple was probably a little shy, though a few stragglers had wandered over to the water’s edge for a better view.

“How’s the casino doing?” Britt asked as he scraped up the last fruit from his crepes.

She switched channels, and got a four-way split screen of different angles in the casino. “A little early there too. I hear the money pit has been a big hit, though.” God, talk about dirty sex–she still couldn’t believe how many people wanted to get laid in a pile of money. “And the blackjack dealers are all leaving their shifts happy.”

“I’ll bet,” Britt answered. “Pun intended.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes. “I think the blokes who work that table where they can’t see who’s giving them head–what do you call it?”

“Glory hole roulette.”

“Yes, those chaps. Brave souls. Although they do seem to get off on the anonymity. I’ve heard reports it’s hard to tell whether a male or female is doing the sucking.” He shook his head and grimaced. “Takes all types though, I suspect.”

All types, indeed. Maybe she should remind him that he’d once told her about the “bit of experimenting” he’d done while in theater group at university. Nah. She’d find a better way to remind him before the cruise was over.

“Kinda gives literal meaning to the term boob tube, doesn’t it?” David had returned, wearing only his swim trunks.

“Whoa. You shaved!”

He grinned. “Looks like those two did too.” He pointed at the TV, where two girls with enormous chests had put it all on sixty-nine, on the roulette table.

“Christ, their knockers are bound to break the table if the pit master doesn’t get them off there,” Britt muttered.

“Yeah.” David didn’t sound too worried about the table. “You think those are real?”

Please. “Probably. Not!” She couldn’t help laughing at him.

David stuck his tongue out at her. Man, he looked good without the facial hair. Cute with it, but gorgeous-hot without.

“So, why?” She rubbed her fingers along her own face. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll be discovered?”

He shrugged. “We’ll be in here all day, and by tomorrow I’ll have shadow again. Besides, everybody believes my surfer story so far.”

Which still didn’t answer her question. Maybe it had itched? No complaints from her, though. Sometimes that stubble got a little rough. Was that why?

He hadn’t looked back at the TV. She gazed into those blue eyes. Was he also thinking all the places he could put that smooth face? Crazy how extended eye contact with him could make her wet. She looked people in the eye every day for interviews, and they didn’t turn her on like David did.