Kimberly Meter - Tempted

“Teagan Carmichael,” he answered, appreciating the view of her bountiful cleavage practically inviting him to lay his head on it. He flagged the bartender, and because Teagan had tipped well, the bartender was eager to serve. “My lady friend here is in need of a drink.”

“Whiskey sour,” she said with a throaty laugh that was deep and sexy. Then she gently tugged at the bartender’s sleeve and said with a wink, “And don’t go light on the whiskey, sweet thing.”

The bartender grinned and ducked his head in a nod. “You got it.”

Vanessa turned to Teagan. “The drinks are included in your package but they tend to skimp on the good stuff. I always like to let the bartender know that I like a stiff...drink.”

If Teagan hadn’t been clued in already, he would’ve caught the message loud and clear this time—he was on her meal plan.

“So tell me, Teagan... What are you here for?” she asked, going for the direct approach. “A little fun, something deeper? Because I’m open to either. I’m footloose and fancy-free and I intend to live it up.”

Teagan couldn’t help but smile at the engaging woman, even if he didn’t want to sleep with her. She had a way about her that was infectious, and he liked her company.

“I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” he answered. “My brother booked this cruise and kinda forced me to go.”

“Sounds like a fun brother,” she said, sipping her drink. “So, not married? Divorced? Widowed? What’s your story?”

“Absolutely single. Never been married. You?”

Vanessa released a breath in dramatic style and readjusted her ample cleavage. “Was married to a real son of a bitch but he did me a solid and died. His insurance payout was about the only decent thing he ever did in his life.”

“That bad, huh?”

“He wasn’t winning any humanitarian awards,” Vanessa drawled with derision, then tacked on, “Well, I stayed with the bastard too long so that’s my fault, but I was raised that you didn’t quit. So I stayed. Wasted the best parts of my life, too. But that’s over, honey. I’m here to tear things up, starting with you, sugar pot.” She squeezed his thigh, and he jumped. Her eyes lit up as she grinned. “You are a jumpy thing. All that young energy, stamina...mmm...just what I am looking for.”

Teagan didn’t want to hurt the older lady’s feelings, but he didn’t want to lead her on, either. “Vanessa, you are a smoking-hot woman, no doubt. Some man is going to be counting his lucky stars with you on his arm but I’m not sure I’m ready to take things to that level.”

Vanessa’s smile was strained around the edges but she nodded. “Sure, no problem. You’re old-fashioned. I like that. Most times men are just eager to drop their drawers if the invitation is bold enough.”

“When did your husband die?” he asked.

She exhaled before taking another drink. “Two years ago. Heart attack. Dropped dead in the middle of a steak dinner. Ruined everyone’s appetite, that’s for sure. I haven’t been back to that restaurant since.”

Even though Vanessa implied she was glad to be widowed, Teagan sensed lingering grief. Some things were hard to quit, especially if it was something like a long-term relationship.

“So, I do these cruises for fun, to pass the time. Meet people.”

“How many cruises have you done?” he asked.

“This is my fourth.”

Four singles cruises? Basically, two a year for the past two years since her husband died. That admission told a story.

“What was your husband’s name?”

She cast him an uncertain look as if surprised he was asking, then answered, “Dale. We were high school sweethearts.”

Vanessa blinked rapidly and Teagan realized she was fighting tears. Fluttering her hands to wipe away any moisture before it left a track down her heavily made-up face, she rose and excused herself before Teagan could say anything.

Maybe Dale hadn’t been as rotten as Vanessa liked to say.

Sometimes being angry was easier than accepting the pain of true grief.

So far this meet and greet was not going well.

Maybe he could find another woman and send her off in tears.

He motioned for the bartender. “Keep ’em coming.”

* * *

HARPER KNEW THE minute Teagan entered the room. It was as if her eyes were set to track and her aim was unerring.

He looked good.

Damn good.

That self-assured swagger as he surveyed the room, the way a smile flirted with his mouth...he was a bad distraction.

She knew she ought to flirt with the cluster of men corralling her, but seeing as Stuart was a no-show, the idea of wasting time with those pitiful fools was more than she could stomach.

The smart thing would be to return to her room, rest up for tomorrow.

But she wasn’t tired.

In fact, she was practically brimming with restless energy and if she went to her room right now, she’d end up pacing a hole in her tiny stateroom.

A drink would take the edge off.

Don’t do it. Don’t you dare walk over to him.

Ignoring the voice of reason, she politely extricated herself from the cluster and made her way toward Teagan.

She slid into the chair that’d been occupied by the older woman and smiled at the bartender. “Gin and tonic,” she murmured, then turned to Teagan who looked pretty relaxed.

“What happened to your lady friend?” she asked with mild interest. “She seemed into you until she hurried off. Seems your game is a little off. Would you like some pointers?”

He chuckled—the sound tickling her vertebrae like fingers dancing down her spine—and said, “Pointers from you? Hmm...not sure.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’m not really a catch-and-release kind of guy.”

Heat crawled into Harper’s cheeks, caught off guard by how easily Teagan seemed to laser in on her strategy, but she knew it was impossible for him to know. Whatever she was keying in on was her own paranoia. Harper graced Teagan with a small smile. “Why hold on to one, when there are so many to choose from?”

Teagan nodded as if ceding her point until he countered, saying, “Why continue to draw in fish you have no intention of keeping?”

“The thrill of the chase?” she suggested coyly as the bartended pushed her drink toward her. She rewarded him with a blinding smile and a modest tip.

“I don’t see you chasing anyone,” he pointed out, watching as she lifted the glass to her lips. “I see it the other way around. But something tells me, that’s your game.”

It was true. Harper rarely chased—she snared.

“Okay, Mr. Observant...what else do you see?”

The minute she threw the question out there, she knew it was a mistake. Teagan was sharp. There was something about him that cut through the haze and pushed away her carefully constructed web. He wasn’t in a rush to fall all over her and that wasn’t something she was accustomed to, either.

Teagan grinned, amused at her rash response. “You sure you want me to answer that?”

Actually, go ahead and forget I said it.

She graced him with a patronizing smile. “Darling, I can’t wait to hear what you think you see after knowing me for a total of fifteen minutes.”

Teagan swiveled on his chair to face her directly. She sucked in a tight breath as her heart rate quickened, but she held her smile. To her surprise, he reached for her hand and turned it over to observe her palm.

Was he psychic or something? Her smile turned wary. “What are you doing?”

“Shh...”

He lightly traced the faint lines in her palm, sending shivers rioting up her forearm.

“Am I going to be famous?” she teased, if only to quell the racing of her pulse at his touch. “Is this your schtick? Hey, baby, let me tell you your future?”