“You’ve made your feelings about me pretty clear, Stella.” His jaw tenses as he speaks. “I was just trying to give you your space.”
“Space?” I seethe. “Are you serious right now? I have been nothing but nice to you since the day we met, and youstilltreat me like a second-class citizen. Am I not rich enough for you, Caleb? Not well-groomed? Does it bother you to have my filthy peasant feet traipsing all over your precious deck?”
“No!” His voice cracks. He’s clearly flustered, his body visibly itching to get out of this cramped elevator. “How could you—it has nothing to do with that!“
“Then what?!” But he still doesn’t answer. How dare he try to make meout to be the crazy one? How dare he make me feel like I don’t belong here? I want to throttle him. I want to feed him to the sharks. The muscles of his arms strain, and it only bolsters my determination. I’ve spent too long watching my schedule and hiding behind plants to avoid running into Doctor Voldemort. I’m not about to let another man make me feel like I’m the one who needs to disappear.
“I’m having enough trouble fitting in here with the Warrens as it is,” I snarl, shoving my face towards his in a show of intimidation. I’m so close to him I can see the veins on his temples; canfeelthe heat of his body against my still-wet skin. But I don’t back down. I may have to play nice with Matthew and Patricia, but Caleb’s gone too far.
“I don’t need some stuck-up, second-rate lifeguard to make me feel like I don’t belong. So if you’re somehow incapable of treating me like a human, Caleb, if my existence is so offensive to you, then do me a favor and?—“
Caleb’s hands close around the sides of my face, and suddenly, the two inches between us become obsolete. His lips find mine like some migrating bird, honing in as if they’ve been here before. As if both of us knowexactlywhat to do. My mind screams for me to smack him, but my body, traitor that she is, melts so quickly and deeply into him that I might as well be a beach-side ice cream cone. It takes precious, glorious seconds for my rational mind to kick in, but when it does, I push him back. Only instead of actually moving him, I stumble back and crash right into the elevator buttons.
“What the hell?” I gasp, trying to regain my footing. Even pressed against the wall like this, he’s still barely a foot from me. This elevator really wasn’t built for two.
“Oh my god,” Caleb looks away, his cheeks turning red as the lifejackets hanging in my cabin closet.
“I’m so sorry,” he chokes out. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
As someone who is always acutely aware of what I’m thinking, this is hard for me to believe.
“Wh…” I start to ask him, but I find I can’t form the words. It’s as though that kiss siphoned out any ounce of brain power I have left. What’s worse, I don’t even know what I want to tell him. I can’t decide if I’m furious, horrified, or maybe a secret third option that’s worse than both.
So, instead of saying anything, I do the absolute dumbest thing I can possibly think of.
I lean forward and kiss him back.
For a moment, Caleb stays stock still, as if he’s unsure if I really mean it. That makes two of us. But my body’s in the driver’s seat now, and unfortunately, it’s no longer listening to directions. I coax his lips open, grabbing at his the waist of his shorts with one hand, and something in him snaps. Caleb goes from statue to savage in an instant, pulling me by the waist until I’m pressed up against wall with the gold rail digging into my ass. In response, my hands snake around his neck, grabbing the warm skin of his tanned shoulders.
I feel like I’m outside myself, watching as some wild-hearted stranger wraps herself around an Adonis-bodied water god. Only the gentle tug of his teeth against my bottom lip pulls me back to reality, sending a shiver through me that wakes up parts of me I’d forgotten even existed. Captain Caleb, asshole extraordinaire, is kissing me.Or worse, I’m kissinghim.And oh, is it glorious.
We tangle ourselves in each other’s bodies, grasping at each other like life rafts in a storm. Heat rushes through my spine as his fingers trail down it, coming to rest on the small of my back. I arch into him, anchoring my fingers in his hair as a soft moan melts from his mouth into mine.
Until the elevator dings. It might as well be a fire alarm. Both of our bodies go absolutely rigid at the same time, and I push him away from me so hard that I’m worried he might crack the mirrored wall behind him. What have I done? We share a single mortified look as the doors open, our breaths ragged and tense, but as soon as the gap is Stella-sized, I bolt into the (thankfully empty) salon.
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,I’m practically screaming, but I won’t allow my mouth to open until I’m safely out of Caleb’s sight. I dart a glance back to watch the doorsclosing over him, his face still stricken with the kind of panic I’d expect him to reserve for tsunamis and submerged icebergs.
Cabin, cabin, cabin,I chant to myself as I tear down the stairs. I lock the door behind me and slam shut the doors to the bathroom, just to make sure, before I brace my hands against the counter top and give myself a good, hard look in the mirror. My face is flushed, my hair a wet and tangled mess around it. What in the hell just happened? Calebhatesme. A few minutes ago he was looking at me like drowned rat on the back deck. Is he having a stroke? Did one of those foam noodle blows give him a concussion?
I step into the shower, stripping off my wet bikini and cranking the water up as hot as it will go. I need to wash every trace of him off me as quickly as possible.
I lean my back against the black marble, my skin breaking out in goosebumps at the temperature change. Did Caleb really just kiss me back there? Did I actuallylikeit? And, perhaps most importantly, am I clinically insane? I can feel the warmth of his hands on my hips as if they were still there, so I grab a bar of soap from the caddy and begin to scrub.
What was he thinking? Caleb’s treated me with nothing but disdain since I set foot on the Vela Bianca. How dare he try and make me forget about all his BS with a stupid kiss?
The groan of water through pipes sounds behind me. Someone else has turned their shower on. But my cabin backs up to the crew quarters—not Matthew’s or Steven’s. Could Caleb’s cabin be back-to-back with mine?
I shiver as the water ripples against my neck and down my spine. I think of Caleb, soaking wet, without any clothes on. I think of him scrubbing his hands with the same guava-scented soap to try and wash off the feeling of me, too. Behind the marble wall, is he thinking about me? Is he wondering what it would be like in here, with me, and nothing but water between us? Imagining his mouth on my neck? Picturing his handstrailing over my hard nipples, across my sun-pink stomach and down to my?—
Cold water races through the shower head as my hip bumps the temperature dial, snapping me from my fantasy. I squeak in surprise, slapping my hand over my mouth to make sure I don’t scream. Serves me right for letting my thoughts run away with me. Caleb is employed by my sister’s soon-to-be family. And let’s not forget—he’s treated me like human garbage ever since I arrived on board.
Whatever his game is, I amnothere for it. And if Caleb thinks I’m the kind of girl he can charm into complacency, he’s in for a rude awakening.
14
After what feels like an hour of pacing around my cabin and trying to get ahold of Marianne (you’d think the Hyatt would have better cell service), I hear Jules yelling to me for dinner.You’ve got this, Stella,I tell myself as I pull on sundress number two of two. It’s not weird unless I make it weird, right?
When I reach the luxurious salon, the whole family is already seated at the dining table, instead of wearing shorts and polos like normal boat enthusiasts, each of them looks like they’ve just stepped outside for a break between auction items at some annual gala. I feel like I’ve stepped onto the set of an Agatha Christie remake. And looking at Patricia’s pointed expression, I know exactly who the killer is going to be.
