“Tender, juicy, moist,” I mumble and then feel my cheeks burn. It’s not like I’m describing any of my body parts. “It’s a duck’s breast, you know.”
“Yes, that’s what I asked.” He smirks, and his penetrating gaze strips me naked.
Admit it. I do want to have sex with him. It would be the ultimate Christmas gift, and a big F U to Stephen.
I’m not tough and callous enough to come out unscathed. My face broils hot, and I take a quick swallow of wine to gather my composure.
“Jordan, may I ask you a question?”
“You’ve never been shy before. What gives?”
I feel as if high wattage spotlights are shining over me, and I can’t understand where all the jitters are coming from.
For goodness sake, this is Jordan Reed, the brat from Miss Vidovich’s class.
I gin up my courage and ask, “Where did you go and what did you do after you left third grade?”
He grins cheekily at me. “Do you have all night?”
I nod eagerly. I do have all night, and I want to keep him talking so I don’t melt down and make out with him at the table or find myself underneath him on my bunk.
“I grew up and got wiser,” he says. “Bounced around foster homes, then hitchhiked across the country. Washed dishes, was a roadie for a country-western singer, worked on ranches, dairy farms, fixed motorcycles, baked pies, washed windows, whatever I could do to keep moving and not stay in one place.”
“What about family?”
“Always getting kicked out,” Jordan says. “I cut school, got into trouble, or said things no one wanted to hear.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I live off rich women.” He spears a piece of asparagus from his plate and sucks it into his mouth.
I gulp and avert my gaze. Is it possible Jordan is a gigolo? Since I’m not wealthy, someone must have paid him.
“You say Jade didn’t pay you. Who did?” I point my fork at him. “And don’t deny it. I heard you arguing with someone about payment.”
His glare goes stony, and he sets his silverware down on the plate. “Since you were eavesdropping, at least get it straight. I asked not to be paid. As to who I was speaking to, it’s really not your business. I’m on holiday right now.”
“Hmmm.” I’m unsure of a suitable comeback. What do I want out of this cruise? If it’s revenge for being dumped, then what does it matter if my companion is paid or not? As long as Stephen thinks I’m having fun. “Okay, fair enough. You’re determined to hang around and pretend you’re my husband. Give me a good time. What’s not to like?”
“Exactly.” He reaches across the table and traps my hand. “As long as we’re on this cruise, I’ll offer you whatever your heart desires. Look into my eyes and tell me what you really, truly want.”
Can I trust him? Let my guard down? Do I even know what I want?
“I’m not sure.” I’m enjoying the sensation of holding hands and gazing into Jordan’s deep, chocolate-brown eyes. Then again, he’s a trickster. He could be trying to trap me.
For what purpose?
“You’re right now in the middle of an ocean amongst strangers, as you say. Let it go. What do you want?”
“Meaning.” The word pops into my mind, surprising me.
“Meaning?” He quirks an eyebrow. “Do you not believe you mean anything?”
“I want to matter. Do things that matter. Be someone who matters. I want to be noticed or missed. To be important.” Words break through like a rush of water through floodgates. “I want to be the world to at least one other person. Not as an ornament or accessory, but a real woman.”
“The center of a man’s heart.” His earnest gaze shows we’re on the same wavelength.
“Yes.” I can feel tears glisten at the corners of my eyes. “Is that so hard of a thing to ask for?”
