Unable to help himself, Wes allowed his gaze to travel down her petite body-breasts that were a little too large for her stature, a tiny waist, slim hips. Even dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a fifties-style sweater, she brought out every carnal instinct.

But wasn’t he supposed to be showing her that he was above this? That he could be more than just the go-to guy for amusement?

Damn, it was hard to be a gentleman sometimes, especially now, with her standing next to a bed that dominated the room.

She seemed to realize it, too, her gaze falling to the mattress, then lifting to him. She really blushed this time, and his groin tightened.

He needed her. In so many ways.

Their luggage had already been dropped off by the porter, and it was waiting on the bed for them to unpack. Hesitating, Erin’s hands hovered over her red faux alligator bag, as if she hadn’t fully committed to being here with him yet. But hadn’t he sensed this a few times before? Reluctance?

His heart sank. Was she hesitant about jumping into bed with a man she’d only known two weeks-or jumping into bed with him?

She stared at her luggage, took a breath, then unzipped her bag with a verve that seemed a little too emphatic. Her smile seemed determined, and it threw him off balance.

Not knowing what to think, Wes closed the door. “You pack pretty light. For a girl, I mean.”

“How would you know?” She playfully narrowed her eyes. “Just how many women have you traveled with?”

Enough. And they’d always gone with him on short trips that he was now regretting weren’t longer. Somehow, Wes thought that Erin had guessed this already. She had a way of seeing right into him that was uncanny. In fact, he’d never met a woman who made him feel like maybe he didn’t have to put on an act because it wouldn’t work anyway. And the thing of it was, she still wanted to be around him.

He didn’t understand any of it.

“How about we don’t talk about other women right now?” Wes said, coming closer to the bed.

She caught her breath. Knowing he had that kind of effect on her turned him on.

“How’d you fit your formal wear into one bag?” he asked.

In answer, she casually pulled out a teeny-tiny baby doll piece of fluff. Lingerie, sheer and seductive.

Imagination kicking into overdrive, Wes’s cock nudged against his fly. His throat closed up.

“Formal wear,” she said, as if musing over the very idea. “Where is my formal wear…?”

Then, she tugged a long wispy dress out of her bag-a bohemian print that was meant to retain a few wrinkles. He could tell that she’d chosen to pull out the more demure evening garb to taunt him.

Then, slowly, devilishly, she slid out another length of sinuous material.

Back to the lingerie.

Wes blew out some oxygen. It was almost like she was performing a striptease, but she was taking things out instead of off. In essence, every movement whispered, “This is what I brought for you. Are you ready for some of it?”

When she pulled out a heart-shaped red lollipop-a treat from her shop, no doubt-she gave him a wicked smile and rested the candy against her lips.

He didn’t dare ask what she had in mind. In spite of all his best intentions, he got closer, reaching for the sucker.

“Hey,” she teased, raising the candy over her head. “Not so fast.”

When he didn’t say anything-couldn’t say anything-she cocked an eyebrow.

“And if you don’t like lollipops, I’ve got more for you. What do you want? Taffy, chocolate…? I have it all.”

Yeah, she did. By now, his penis was pounding with the blood rushing to it. He wanted to feel himself inside her, surrounded by her slick heat. He didn’t want to taste sugar as much as her skin, her breasts, her sex.

Uninhibited, he reached out to run a thumb over her lower lip. Soft, warm. She closed her eyes, taking him into her mouth as she dropped her sucker-clasping hand to her side.

“Erin,” he whispered, weaving the fingers of his other hand into her hair.

She took his thumb further inside, sucking, biting. He moved his finger with her motions, entranced. His veins enlarged to accommodate the blood pumping through them, until it felt like he’d explode from the pressure.

Unable to stand it, he bent to her, removing his thumb and taking its place with his tongue, sliding her a long kiss that stretched time into slow, erotic pulses. He explored her heat, pressing her body against his so she could feel his erection, feel what she did to him.

She responded with a vicious eagerness, engaging his tongue with hers, rubbing her hips against his groin until he moaned with pleasured pain. When she slid her hand between them, testing his hard-on, he clutched at her.

It seemed like he’d been waiting months for this, not weeks. He was ready to rip off their clothes and enter her, but he didn’t want that. It couldn’t be that fast and anonymous, not this time.

“Hey,” he said against her mouth, thinking that she was different now that they were on this trip alone. Less inhibited?

She drew away, laughed, her breath warming his lips. “I’m trying to beat a curse here, ’kay? Play along, please.”

A curse. Again, he wondered exactly what that old fortune-teller had told her-what Erin had left out earlier when she’d related her story. What did a curse have to do with what was happening right now?

“You’re not cursed with me,” he said, smoothing his hands below her jaw to frame her face. Such a beautiful face.

Something within her eyes shifted, white flecks among the gray clicking into a different position, like lenses changing focus.

Then, with even more determination, she undid the top button of his fly.

He stopped her, confused not only by her, but by his own refusal to accept the sex and move on.

“You don’t want this?” she asked.

“Hell, yeah, but…” He sucked in a breath.

She’d cupped him in her hand again, her fingers brushing over his balls. His cock strained to burst out of the denims.

“I’ve wanted this, too, Wes. And now’s finally the time for it.”

He couldn’t get any air into his lungs, yet he tried to talk, anyway. Why was she acting like this was some sort of mission? This wasn’t like the Erin he knew-not that he was complaining. He just hadn’t expected this strong of a come-on.

But it was working all the same. Was it ever.

She was moving one finger back and forth, as if experimenting with how much he could take. On the fringe of losing it, he pulled her back against him, kissing her roughly.

Then, outside of his kidnapped brain, he heard something like a voice amplifying around him, a physical thing pressing in and trying to force him apart from Erin. Something on the loudspeaker? Hell, it wasn’t registering…

Abruptly, Erin pulled away. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Dizzy, he tried to haul her back against him, but she shook her head, pointing to the ceiling. Eventually, the loudspeaker voice filtered through the haze of his animal need.

“…mandatory emergency drill. Please secure your life jackets-”

“Shit,” Wes said, his erection at full rev now. “I don’t suppose we can ignore that.”

“Mandatory.”

Flushed, Erin laughed in frustration, but he sensed something else in the gesture. Relief?

What the hell?

Backing away from him, she straightened her sweater, her smile shaky. “Cursed. Didn’t I tell you the negative stuff was on its way? You’re onboard with a cursed being, Wes. You’d better bail now.”

His nethers were killing him, but cool as rain, Erin went to a corner table and lifted off the top to find the life jackets.

Using a wall for balance, one hand holding himself up while the other pressed against his crotch, he attempted to contain the ache.

And she thought she was cursed?

3

AFTER THE DRILL, THEY decided to grab something to eat since Erin’s massage appointment was in only a half hour. Fortifying themselves had been her suggestion because, based on what’d happened before their playus interuptus, she had the sneaking suspicion they would need to store up on energy for when she returned to the cabin.

She’d surprised herself with her attempt at seducing Wes. Heh, yeah, attempt. That was an understatement. She’d gone at him with all guns blazing, and he’d been just as open to the attack as she’d hoped. But then they’d been forced to do that drill and…bye-bye bedroom Babylon. Hello, fortune-teller curse.

Of course, it could’ve just been a coincidence that their intimate activities had been thwarted at a most awkward time. In the heat of the moment, after she’d disengaged from Wes, she’d forgotten herself and actually joked about a damned jinx being the reason for the interruption. She’d only been letting off steam, but she couldn’t help wondering if Madame Karma was on to something…

Nah. She and Wes had the whole cruise to get it on and, in effect, allow her to get on with life as she wanted it. The farther she inched away from the disappointment of William, the better. One setback was no biggie. Sure, Wes had been forced to carry his life jacket in front of his jeans en route to their drill-meeting station on the ninth deck, and Erin herself had been flushed with such lingering desire that the color was like a scarlet letter on her skin, but they had hours, days to make up for the temporary inconvenience.

They walked to the Lido restaurant after having dropped off their jackets in the cabin, Erin linking onto Wes’s muscle-corded arm.

A curse. Ri-ight. Nothing to fret about.

It was just the sense of supreme relief she’d felt when the purser had called them for the drill that was worrying her more…