5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

FERRAGAMO

Nora

I woke to darkness.

Per usual.

Thus, I pushed the satin eye mask to my forehead, and through the bright morning sunshine, stared at the circle of gold on the cream ceiling I’d discovered last night had soft illumination coming from behind it.

I didn’t have to look at the rest of my cabin, which I knew had sweeping views, was decorated in soft grays, golds and navy blue, and was the likes only Hale Wheeler and the four men under him on the list of the world’s most wealthy could afford.

I sighed, turned to the oblong nightstand beside the bed and picked up the phone to order coffee.

I then got out of bed and began my first-thing-in-the morning routine, being interrupted in exfoliating by accepting the arrival of my coffee service with a note communicated to me from the steward, “Mr. Oakley is enjoying coffee on the aft deck, and we’ll be setting out the breakfast buffet there soon.”

Tremendous.

Another day alone with the man I loved, who did not love me.

I’d showered and was seated at the small vanity in the bathroom where, last evening, a member of the crew had arranged my cosmetics. I was sipping coffee and preparing for the day when my phone lit up.

I glared at it.

Because it was Mika.

I took the call, put it on speaker, and continued shading my eyelids, stating, “I’m not speaking to you.”

I heard her laugh even as she replied, “You answered.”

“Only because I have a reason to do so.”

“We can talk about that in a second, after I share my chagrin that you’re answering at all.”

“If you don’t wish to speak to me, why did you call?” I queried.

“I was testing the waters, because if you didn’t answer, that would mean you’re getting busy… finally …with Jamie.”

I huffed.

“Nora—”

“We are not that.”

She spoke gently when she asked, “What’s been going on with you two? Why haven’t you been spending time together?”

A morsel of news: the scene of the kiss with Jamie, particularly after it, was so painful, I’d told no one. Not even my dearest friend.

But now was the time to do that.

“He kissed me.”

There was sheer joy in her voice as she asked, “Last night?”

I put my makeup brush down and moved on to foundation. “Two weeks ago.”

“Wait. What?”

“Two weeks ago, he kissed me. It was the best kiss of my life. Then, seconds after he tore his mouth from mine, he told me the kiss was a mistake.”

“Oh God,” she groaned.

Not that I needed confirmation, but if I did, there it was.

Jamie saying that was a wound no woman needed inflicted.

“Indeed,” I clipped.

“He’s not?—”

I finished for her. Sarcastically. “Over Rosalind? You think?”

“What I was going to say is, he’s not allowing himself to move forward.”

“I’m sensing that’s not something he has in his power.”

“He’s stronger than he thinks, he just needs to be reminded of that.”

And I knew who she thought should remind him.

I simply disagreed. Vehemently.

“This is not why I answered the phone,” I informed her.

“We should talk this through, Nora. Especially now that I know about the kiss.”

Hell no, we were not doing that.

“If you utter a word about that to a single soul , Mika, I swear to God , I truly won’t speak to you again. You can’t even tell Tom.”

There was a beat of silence before she said, “I have to tell my husband. You can’t ask me to keep anything from him.”

“Fine,” I spat, only because I knew Tom would be circumspect. “But none of those other traitors can know.”

“You’re on a luxury yacht with the man you love, we’ve hardly locked you in an iron maiden.”

I put my beauty blender down so I could more fully focus on delivering a very pertinent message.

“Allow me to paint you the picture, my dearest,” I began. “Say Tom Pierce was hung up on his first love, the inestimable Imogen Swan. Yes, he had deep feelings for you, he was attracted to you, he liked spending time with you, he admitted you meant the world to him, but he would not allow himself to go there with you. Now, tell me how you’d feel being stuck on a ship with him for a week.”

“Belatedly, I’m seeing your point,” she mumbled.

“I’m sure you are,” I stated coldly.

“Maybe we can talk about this later.”

Oh, we’d talk about it later.

But only when I was ready.

“ Much later,” I stressed.

“So why did you answer my call?” she inquired.

“I have a task for you to perform, and considering you owe me, you’re going to see to it before we return.”

“That task would be?”

“I want you to find out where Paloma Friedrichsen is the minute we make land after our excruciatingly slow tour of the Atlantic seaboard.”

Her tone was guarded when she asked, “Why would you want to know where Paloma is?”

“Because Roland called yesterday to impart his desire to discuss reconciliation.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered in a mixture of horror and wrath.

Obviously, she knew all about Roland, and she hated him slightly less than I did, and definitely less than Jamie did.

I went on like she didn’t speak, “And he shared with me, Paloma had told him that Jamie and I were through.”

“What is that woman up to?” Mika groused.

I went back to blending. “Why, fucking with me, of course.”

“Why?”

“Because she can’t get to you, and you stole her last chance at the delicious lifetime meal ticket that was Tom Pierce.”

“I knew she was bad, but I cannot wrap my head around any woman who did what she did to you having the sheer audacity to cloud your life again.”

“Your taste is far too good when it comes to the people you spend time with, case in point, me being your best friend,” I drawled.

“What a cow,” she muttered.

I had a different c-word I would use to refer to that woman, but I sadly had too much class to utter it.

“I’ll get Teddy on it,” Mika declared.

Perfect.

Indeed, with this reminder of her assistant, who I adored , I also realized I could enlist Teddy in devising and executing a flawless plan of vengeance against that silly… cow .

Once Teddy knew, he would live for that.

“I’ll let you go,” Mika finished.

“Farewell.”

“Wait. Nora?”

I picked up my tube of concealer. “I’m still here.”

“I didn’t know about the kiss.”

I sighed. “Allow me at least forty-eight hours after your traumatic betrayal before I’m forced to begin to entertain thoughts of forgiving you.”

I heard the humor in her, “Okay, I’ll allow that.”

And she would find it humorous, considering we both knew I’d forgive her.

Eventually.

“Goodbye, Mika.”

“Try to make the most of it, Nora.”

Impossible.

We rang off and I finished with my subtle, on-a-yacht makeup. With a curling iron, I then refreshed some of the waves in my hair that needed it, and did a half-up, half-down style. I spritzed on my perfume and donned my Ferragamo dress that was stark white with a pattern of a spread of oranges on the branch with leaves. It had cape sleeves, a plunging neckline and was completely backless (thank you, Dr. Fierstein, for my still perky breasts), with the added feature that the sleeves could come up to wrap around the neck to make the dress a halter and expose the arms.

I did not do this last.

I paired the dress with bronze, kitten-heeled slides, minimal gold jewelry, massive, black-framed sunglasses, and steeling myself for whatever was to come, I headed to the aft deck.

I found Jamie sitting at a table adorned with an extraordinary bouquet of fresh flowers. He was wearing khaki trousers and a blue button down I knew on sight would cause hot flashes with what it did to the color of his eyes.

Fortunately, he was wearing a handsome pair of Tom Ford sunglasses, something I saw when he heard me coming and turned my way. Unfortunately, those sunglasses swept me from top to toe to top again, and his beautiful lips formed a sexy smirk that instantly affected three very private places on my body.

“Good morning,” he rumbled.

The three affected areas were more affected at his rumble.

“It is?” I replied.

The sexy smirk turned into an even sexier bright white smile.

I stopped by the table and took in the silver coffee service, his half-full cup and opened laptop with papers strewn around, his attractive attaché that had files stuffed in it resting on one of the other chairs.

“You haven’t eaten?” I inquired.

“I was waiting for you.”

“That was unnecessary,” I remarked.

He pushed back his chair to get up. “Do you know me?”

I very much did.

He was a morning person, so he’d probably been up for hours, and further, was likely quite hungry.

But beating that, he was a down-to-his-bones gentleman.

Therefore, I didn’t reply.

I went to the buffet and made myself a plate that included lots of fruit, a spoonful of scrambled eggs, two rashers of bacon, and an almond croissant.

I liked food, and I partook of it at will.

Mother had instilled in me that you should always have whatever you wanted when you wanted it, “The key, dear, is careful moderation.”

My careful moderation differed from hers, which was why she had been a size six, and I was a size twelve, and would happily go up a size, if most of the designers I wore made clothes in it.

Since they did not, I reined my version of moderation in a notch.

I began to seat myself at the table across from the space Jamie had claimed but froze when his voice came from the buffet.

“If you sit there, I’ll pick you up and put you in the chair beside mine that has a damned view.”

I looked to him and noted, “Every seat has a view.”

“Not that one.”

He was right.

That one had a direct view into the aft lounge, which was smaller, more intimate, but no less well-appointed than the forward lounge.

Even so, it wasn’t the peaceful vision of sun glinting off the sea with land in the distance lazily floating by.

I shifted so I would be seated right next to Jamie (damn him).

I poured my coffee, and due to habit, therefore, without thinking, refreshed his (he liked his coffee) as he filled his plate and folded down beside me.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured.

It hit me why he was expressing gratitude, and I could have kicked myself for personally delivering the hit that we shared many intimacies, even if we weren’t ever actually going to be intimate .

I forked into a sliver of cantaloupe and remarked, “You do know what ‘vacation’ means?”

“I’ll shut it down now that you’re up,” he replied.

I put the melon in my mouth and said no more on the subject of his work, something he enjoyed, so, frankly, I wasn’t surprised he’d brought some on vacation.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

I did.

Sumptuous fare, good wine and Jamie being charming as he always was, and last night was no exception, did that to me.

“I’m refreshed,” I said by way of answer.

“Good,” he murmured. Then he shared, “I spoke with the captain, and I was correct. There are no stops scheduled for this tour.”

I looked to him. “Don’t they have to refuel?”

Jamie speared some scrambled eggs. “Apparently, they’re stocked up. Though, my guess is, if they have to stop to do anything, they’ve planned to do it when we’re asleep, on order of my devious, and annoyingly brilliant, daughter-in-law.”

“Marvelous,” I drawled.

The tines of his fork pierced a strawberry as he stated, “I took a tour of the ship. There’s a small screening room, and they have a great library of films and Internet access, so we can watch anything we want.”

At least there was that.

Jamie carried on. “The captain also said, whenever we wish, he can drop anchor, and we can swim in the ocean.”

It was mid-July. But considering, at the pace we were going, the shoreline sliding by us was probably still New Jersey (slight exaggeration, but maybe not), I was Nora Ellington. And as such, I was not about to entertain swimming along the Jersey shore.

Or any shore for that matter.

Swimming was to be done in swimming pools.

Oceans were about beaches where you could sit atop a lounger under a cabana, sip a fruity cocktail and read a book. Not swim .

Fighting a delicate shiver at the very thought, I glanced into the beyond, where there were some plush couches under the overhang where we were seated, and beyond that, there was a small, zero-edge pool that looked more like a jacuzzi.

“When we’re not in the jacuzzi, which is heated, that is.” Jamie read the direction of my gaze. “The captain told me that in case we wanted to get into the sea.”

“Ah,” I said, my eyes still trained to the waters even as I placed a bite of eggs in my mouth, not about to share my thoughts on getting into the sea. Because I knew if I did, Jamie would tease me, and I loved it when he teased me, so I wasn’t ready to suffer that so early in our enforced holiday.

“Also talked to the steward.”

I turned to my busy-morning companion.

“Probably not a surprise,” he started, “but they feature daily housekeeping service of the cabins, nightly turn downs, and they can launder or press clothes if needed.”

“Of course they can.”

His lips tipped up before he went on, “They also have anything we might have forgotten, toothpaste, shampoo, sunscreen, charging cables.”

“I think I’m covered.”

“Just in case.”

I tipped my head to the side to confirm I heard him.

He kept going. “I further confirmed that breakfast is whenever you swan onto the deck.”

I put my fork down in affront. “I do not swan .”

He chuckled even as he said, “Nora, you totally swan.”

Okay.

I swanned.

And we were getting into Jamie Teasing Territory.

Moving on.

“We’ll let them know when we’re ready for lunch,” he continued. “She told me they ask for an hour’s notice, if we can give them that heads up. Also, if we want snacks, just let them know, though the screening room is equipped with a full-service snack bar.”

Again, I was unsurprised.

Jamie kept going. “And I shared we’re fine with dinner being at seven. She gave me a menu of what they have planned, and it seems they’ve been informed I don’t like bell peppers and you don’t like scallops.”

“Chloe is thorough,” I stated with peeved admiration.

“She is that,” Jamie said before he took a bite of toast.

I quickly moved my attention from his lovely white teeth biting into the bread and returned it to my plate.

“They have boardgames, a game console, playing cards and a small library that has a number of books,” Jamie said.

“It seems we’re all set,” I murmured irritably.

“I thought we could watch a movie after breakfast, then after lunch, sit in the hot tub until we need to get out to prepare for dinner.”

I had never seen Jamie’s bare chest.

I desperately wanted to see if his body was what was promised through his clothes.

An aside: the promise was promising .

What I equally desperately didn’t want was for him to know—since it would forever be look, but don’t touch—I needed to avoid any view of him bare anywhere . Therefore, I’d have to sit with him in that dratted jacuzzi, so he didn’t guess why I refused to do so.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“But now, over breakfast, we’re going to finish our conversation from last night.”

My head whipped his way at the surprise attack.

He waved his fork side to side at the same time he shook his head. “Not that. Roland.”

My eyes narrowed behind my shades. “What about Roland?”

“Why were you speaking to him before you boarded?”

“Because I was in a bad mood, considering I knew I’d be imminently dealing with you. So, after he texted me, I called him because he seemed like an excellent candidate to use to expend my bad mood.”

“I would normally not disagree,” Jamie noted.

“And why do you disagree now?”

“Because he called again only two hours later.”

I shrugged, picked up a rasher of bacon and said, “I essentially hung up on him after our brief chat.”

“Did he know you were about to board a yacht?”

I swallowed my bite of bacon and replied, “I did share that information.”

“Did he know I would be on said yacht?”

I turned fully to him. “Would you grace me with the knowledge of why you’re interrogating me about this?”

Even with his sunglasses, I could read his expression was dumbfounded.

His next word was dripping with it. “Why?”

“Yes, why?”

“The man has no reason to contact you, so he should not be contacting you.”

“I can’t argue that fact.”

“And yet, he’s contacting you.”

“Jamie—”

Jamie returned his attention to his breakfast, stating, “He needs to be informed in no uncertain terms that his communication is unwelcome, and it must cease immediately.” His chin tilted my way slightly, but I knew he was pinning me with his eyes through his shades when he finished, “And if it’s me who has to drive that point home, I’ll gladly accept that task.”

Visions of Jamie pressing Roland against a wall using a hand full of his shirt and tie, “driving that point home” assailed me, and I cared very little what it said about me, I found it titillating.

Even so, I said, “You need to stop worrying about Roland.”

His fork clattered on his plate, the sudden sound surprising me so much, I gave a slight jump as Jamie turned fully to me.

“Right, we’re here.”

Oh dear.

I wasn’t sure what “here” meant.

But I was sure I didn’t want to be there.

He carried on. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I’ll give you more time, but I do want to talk about it. However, for now I’ll just say, I can have you as I’ll allow myself to have you.”

As he’ll allow himself to have me?

What on earth did that mean?

“And in so doing, I have you ,” Jamie continued. “You mean something to me. You’re mine. You’re a part of my life. You’re a member of my family. And I think you know I take care of those I love, Nora. That being the man I am, I cannot countenance this jackass annoying you or taking your time or infiltrating your life in any way that does not involve the children you share. Am I being clear?”

You’re mine .

I take care of those I love .

You’re…

Mine .

Those…

I…

Love .

“Nora,” he called. “Am I being clear?”

“Jamie,” I said quietly, “I can handle Roland.”

“Then handle him, or I will,” he threatened.

I noted he was agitated. Significantly.

And someone shoot me, I couldn’t abide that.

“You need to calm down, honey,” I whispered.

“I will, when your ex is handled.”

I reached out and curled my fingers around his forearm.

“I’m not your mother, darling,” I reminded him carefully.

“I know you’re not,” he retorted tersely.

“Maybe we should talk about your depth of reaction to this,” I suggested. “Roland did not treat me right, but he’s not your father.”

“It isn’t about my father.”

My brows shot up so far, he had to see them over my marvelous, and large, sunglass frames.

“Right, it’s not entirely about my father,” he allowed.

“Then perhaps whatever the rest of it is, is what we should discuss.”

“The first time I met you, you were pouring water down the throat of my drunk and very stoned wife.”

I took my hand from his arm and withdrew into my chair.

“You wanna talk?” he asked, his Texas twang becoming more pronounced, “We’re talkin’.”

“You don’t have to go through that again.”

Evidently, he did, because he kept talking about it.

“In order to deal with her confidence issues in that kind of environment, oh…and the fact she was already well on her way to becoming a junkie, she snorted a good deal of coke, got so high, it freaked her, so she’d already downed a bottle of wine before we even left for the event.”

“Jamie—”

“The next morning, it took a fight the decibel level of which meant our neighbors called the police for her to admit that to me.”

Good God.

My poor Jamie.

I put my hand in my lap and decided just to listen to him.

It was a mistake.

“You don’t want to discuss this now?” he taunted.

“I’m giving you the chance to say what you need to say.”

“No, Nora. I’m saying what you need to hear. You were stunning that night.”

I sucked in an unladylike breath in an effort to cool the warmth that created in me.

“Belinda was covered in vomit, and you looked like Vogue styled the candid shot they took that evening that made it to the society pages.”

“All right,” I said hesitantly when he didn’t go on.

“And he cheated on you?” Jamie demanded. “ Repeatedly? ”

“I’m not going to defend Roland, but there’s more to a woman than being photogenic and having stylish taste in evening gowns.”

“I know, and I met that ‘more’ that night in all you did for Belinda and me.”

Lord.

“And again, when you got Dru her roses when she was forced to say goodbye to her mother.”

This had to end.

I was going to start weeping.

“And again, when you came to my house and got my head straight about the gifts my dead wife left me and how I needed to stop thinking like an ass and get on with it.”

I had to put a stop to this.

“I don’t?—”

That was as far as I got.

“So no. Fuck no, baby,” he growled. “He doesn’t get to shit all over you and then take a goddamned second more of your time unless it has to do with your children .”

I pressed my lips together.

“Now, am I clear?” he asked.

“You’re clear, darling,” I whispered.

“Good,” he bit off. “So what movie are we watching?”

I had the insane desire to burst out laughing.

Mercifully, I did not.

“You pick today. I’ll pick tomorrow,” I proposed.

He turned back to his plate and muttered, “ Barbie . I’ve been meaning to see it, but I haven’t had the opportunity yet. And I know you want to see it too.”

I’d been waiting for him, so, no. I hadn’t seen it yet either.

“Dru loves it,” he kept muttering before he put more eggs in his mouth.

I knew she did. She’d rhapsodized about it for half an hour the first time I saw her after she’d gone to a showing.

I knew from what I’d heard, I’d love it too.

And the killer of it all, one of the many things that destroyed me when it came to Jamie, was that I knew Jamie was the kind of man who was going to love it too.