The Wrong Gentleman(13)



Pity stretched across August’s face that she combined into a smile, then pulled me into a hug. “Great things are going to happen for you this summer. I just know it.”

August meant well, but it was her, not me, who needed a man to have a good summer.

“I mean, look how it started off. A night with Landon. Are you going to tell me how many orgasms you had last night, or am I going to have to wait ten days until I can get you drunk?”

“Three, not that I was counting.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

“Yes, he was.” He was so confident and assured. Not at all like the drifter he described himself as. “I’ve never . . .” I wasn’t sure I wanted to say the words out loud, but August and I shared most things. “I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

I glanced up at August, who was grinning at me. “You two looked really good together. Harvey says he’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, well it’s a good thing I’m never going to see him again. That man is one hundred percent pure temptation.” The memory of the way he looked at me as if I were to be cherished set off goosebumps across my skin. And the confidence with which he claimed my body? Just the thought of it made me shudder.

“He and Harvey are bound to have drinks again. We could see if we could arrange to meet up with—”

“August, no. You know Landon’s not what I want.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Because he’s so incredibly hot and great in the sack.”

I was looking for ways to explain to August or just myself that it wasn’t just him being good in bed that had made last night so memorable. Maybe it was the way he’d put me first. Or had seemed to lift some kind of weight off my shoulders when he took charge.

I shook my head. “Men like Landon aren’t where my future lies, and I have to stay focused.” Landon talked about passion and love, but I’d lived in a house full of so-called passion and love. I’d seen the misery it brought.

“I just can’t help it. I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“A man like Landon could add to your happiness with orgasms though.”

I’d been clear what would make me happy since the first night in the group home. And it wasn’t a man. It was cold, hard cash. Money of my own meant I never had to rely on a man who wasn’t worthy—a man who turned out to be a monster, not the father or the husband he pretended to be. “Landon doesn’t even know my last name. Probably doesn’t know the last name of the last ten women he took to bed. And that’s fine with me.” I was relieved that yachting made it so easy to move on—physical separation would cure me of the memories of last night. He hadn’t taken my number and I’d not taken his. Thank God. I might have been tempted to use it if I had and that would spell disaster.

“Maybe, but you could just have a summer affair until your perfect husband came along. You deserve a little fun.”

“You’re so sweet, worrying about my fun. But I’m fine. Last night was more than enough. My fun bucket is full.” August might argue that a casual fling would be good for me, but a man like Landon was dangerous. A man who still had me thinking about him? Who looked at me like he had? He was way too much of a risk. “Can we drop it?”

August shrugged. “I guess.”

“Thanks.” I needed to stop thinking about Landon and focus on the job. I drew in a deep breath and led the way down the narrow corridor. We needed to find the rooms pronto, so I could allocate them without any arguments breaking out.

“We’re rooming together, right?” August asked.

“Of course. We both know we drive each other crazy. Better the devil you know, right?” I shot her a grin over my shoulder.

“Great. That means I can borrow your fake tan without you noticing.”

I laughed and spotted a hand rail. “Stairs,” I announced and headed down.

The staff bedrooms were right at the bottom of the boat. Other than the captain, crew never had windows. Or more than a bed’s worth of personal space. Most people went into yachting for the money and the opportunity to travel. I was all about the money, but the tight space had started to get to me.

There were seven doors leading off a bright, cramped hallway.

“This light is horrendous,” August said.

“Will you check those are all bedrooms? I’ll check starboard.” I nodded at the doors on the port side of the deck. “One.” I let the door slam behind us. “Two, three, four.”

“Yes,” August said. “All three exactly the same cramped, slightly smelly crew rooms.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait to get unpacked. At least they’re all the same and no one will get their panties in a bunch because they don’t have the best room. Having said that, let’s take the one port aft so we’re away from the stairs.”

We dropped our hand luggage on the beds, and I pulled out a pad of sticky notes and a Sharpie and began to assign rooms from the crew sheet I’d been given. I kept the engineers together and the first mate with the third engineer. The bosun and the chef were the only ones who had names against the positions. The most junior deckhands together and the most junior member of my team with the senior deckhand.

“Do you know why the owner’s got a whole new crew?” August asked.

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