A Harem of One [The Moreland Brothers 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (5 page)

As any smart woman knew, intriguing a man was half the battle to begin with. All men desired the unattainable, needed a mystery to maintain interest. It was how she kept Jackson ready for her all those years, even when she was aging and fast becoming yesterday’s news.

Oh, Jackson, Charlotte thought.
If only you were—
the train of thought was cut off by laughter ringing around her upstairs. Must be Deven and her newest daughter, Charli. They were full of every emotion when it came to their relationship. Either they were fucking or fighting, and every now and again, both at once. But their fire and zest for life was remarkable, and that facet of them fit the pair together. Almost as if not just puzzle pieces meshing together, but as if two halves of a puzzle were made whole. They fit like two different puzzles that somehow, miraculously coalesced in the middle and merged a dichotomy of opposites and similarities. Makenzie and Charyn were beautiful together, and they fit together like a lock and key. Made to be one whole from creation, and they fit together in all ways neatly, seamlessly, and without hiccup. The pair of them fit together so well, the bi-racial aspect of their relationship didn’t exist in their minds. Her sons had chosen well. The women they chose were much like her in spirit. Plus, they were blessed to feel the blazing passion she felt with her soul mate.

But Charlotte only shook her head as it was too early for this train of thought. She needed some alone time with Jackson and her horses. She definitely needed Zen, as Jamison called it.

By the time everyone was ready to board the yacht, the scheduling was off by at least two hours. First the ship wasn’t furnished properly, even though it appeared to be just fine to Jamie. Then some of the food was still being loaded, even though that should have taken place earlier in the morning. The wedding party boarded after three p.m. and they should have been sailing halfway to Wilmington by now.

Charlotte took the delays with equanimity, saying only, “That’s why we are doing this on the ship. Everyone is stuck on board and will attend, no matter the time.” But really the Moreland matriarch was busy with plans for the wedding of her last son. Her baby. And once he was happily wed, she could be patient and wait to be reunited with her true love, even if that meant no more than to share his plot six feet under when she was called home.

Seasick on the Love Boat

Jamie silently disagreed with Charlotte, not with her statement, but with the position it may leave her in. Without someone to cover her back with airbrush for her dress. However, by the time she walked into the opulent state room provided her, she knew that she didn’t care. She didn’t feel so well. If her last meal had of been closer to now, she would have already cast it up on the side of the ship. Deciding a nap was in order, Jamison laid down and curled into a small ball, resting in jerks and starts.

She must have slept that way for hours. When Jamie rose from her nap the sun was dropping low on the horizon. Her head felt stuffed with cotton and her stomach still bothered her, but she rolled out the bed regardless of her body’s wishes on the matter. Brushing her teeth and a shower worked a minor miracle on her perception. The rest was left as is. Her hair was plaited into a thick French braid, and she barely felt like taking the time to get dressed. Twenty minutes after she started tugging on the first sock, Jamie finally got the rest of her clothing on. A knock at the door startled her, but she called out for the person to come inside. When the door opened, Marq walked inside as if he owned the room and everything in the space. Including her. But come to think of it, he practically did. Jamie mentally laughed at her own joke.

Marq merely walked over and put one hand to her forehead.

It was the first time he really touched her, and she felt electrified as if he scraped his feet over the carpet and shocked her with static. But the discomfiting sensation was quelled with gentle way he touched her, as if she would break. No man since her dad had laid his hands on her that way. Not that she had too much to make a comparison to. But her two prior lovers were gentle, with too smooth hands and limp fingers. Conversely, Marq’s hands were masculine as the rest of him, just a shade firm and lightly callused. She knew the strength of a man was there, but no malice was carried in the brush of hands on her skin. She never imagined the way a simple caress given to another person to soothe and heal could feel this way.

“W–what are you doing?” Although, her body still cheered a chorus at his touch and she felt less queasy and more grounded now.

“Checking to see if you’re seasick or actually have a bug.”

“What’s the diff–fference? I wish I were dead, instead of just halfway there in e–either event.”

“No fever, that means you’re sea sick. Why didn’t you ask for help, or at least use one of the remedies in the cabinet?”

“Huh? I just took a nap. Sorry if I deigned to do that.” Jamie’s words held a snippet of bite, and if she felt better, she would have never used that tone in a conversation. But his eyes showed he didn’t take offense to her waspish tone.

Marq smiled and walked to the small cabinet in the bathroom en suite to the room. When he came back, he rubbed a small vial of oil behind her ears. Next, a bracelet was fastened on the right wrist. Jamie watched him unwrap a piece of candy then felt him press the confection to her lips. She opened her mouth and let him pop the golden treat in. The taste was slightly acrid, ginger root. Even as she sucked the vestiges of sugar from the outside, Marq trailed his fingertip down the column of her throat. The contact encouraged her to swallow the essence of melting candy, praising her for a job well done. Jamie nearly forgot to breathe. The single digit stroking her skin surpassed any other sensation she had ever felt at the hands of another. Even the most intense sexual encounter she had didn’t compare to this.

Marq was silent for so long she was nearly asleep. “I used to have a stammer, when I was a kid.”

“Really? Doesn’t sound like it now.” Not at all, she thought. Maybe that was just part and parcel of the benefits of being rich.

“Believe it or not, the best trick I learned was to focus on something else and not my speech.”

“What did you focus on?” Jamie had to know. She would have never imagined he had a dreaded stutter.

“I rubbed my thumb over my index finger or the inside of my palm and focused on the way it felt. Worked like a charm.” He smiled and looked at her one last time.

* * * *

When dawn crept over the gentle froth of waves, Jamie felt good. Almost normal in fact. Good thing as the ceremony was to take place in twelve hours or so. She still had to do her hair, but even as the thought crossed her mind, she entertained the idea of going to the salon instead. When she finished freshening up, Jamie decided to see if she could leave the ship for a few hours. As there wasn’t much left to do, Charlotte waved Jamie off with a smile and suggested a few styles for her to try.

Jamie picked her way across town in a taxi and headed to Seattle’s. The shop was one of her favorites, mainly because they were quick with getting clients out of the door. There was a shampoo-conditioner station where she started at and then cycled through three people before she was done. But each station had its own specialists. The shampoo girl was great, massaging her scalp and throwing in a free deep condition on the side. By the time the last stylist finished, Jamie’s hair shone with health and vitality, which she desperately needed. When she paid the driver and walked into the hallway of her apartment, she picked the mail up from the box, looking at only the most important items, and carried Charli’s few misdelivered letters back to the car in case she wanted to read them sometime soon. By the time she arrived back aboard the ship, Jamie was preparing herself to get sick again.

But apparently there was something to the homeopathic medicines that Marq gave her. The only issue she had was a slight sensation of vertigo. Although disconcerting, the feeling was endurable. This was a good thing as the bridesmaids were wearing flats to compensate for Charlene’s small stature. Otherwise, Jamie thought, she may embarrass herself by falling down during the ceremony. Although, she was more worried about Marq seeing her doing a face-plant more so than anyone else.

No sooner than Jamie thought of the sensual male did he walk beside her and match her quickly paced stride.

“Like the hair, it fits you.”

“T–thanks, your mom suggested it.” Damn it! She was so close to having a stutter-free day. Jamison felt blindsided and nervous. She was never like that, even on her worst day. The style was a mass of small, straw set curls, hanging to just below the shoulder. The good thing about the style was the control it gave over the frizzies. Those would definitely be an issue on the yacht with the sea spray from traversing open water. Jamie found herself daydreaming, and the visions playing in her mind’s eye were of the sensual man caressing her skin and her spread over sheets brightened with moonlight.

She shook the thoughts from her mind. As it was, time was dwindling down to nothing. There was only enough time for a late lunch, and she needed to help Charli get dressed. Hopefully Deven didn’t rip the garment to shreds yesterday. Otherwise, Charlene would be walking down the aisle in a burlap sack. Although she didn’t think Deven would give a damn, as long as his fiancée showed up for the dog and pony show. Secretly, Jamie felt that was the reason for the location. Deven didn’t give a damn about the guests arriving, just the bride. She didn’t blame him. Charli had the personality to be a runaway bride with her skittishness and frigid feet. But if her friend could love any man, it was Deven.

“Have you eaten?” Marq asked as she walked toward her cabin. She was hungry, but she didn’t want to ask him for anything or spend too much time in his company. “I’m all right.” Jamison heard the crisp enunciation of letters and sounds as she tersely clenched her jaw to control her speech.

“Liar.” She had no idea how he knew she was lying, but he seemed serious, as if her next meal was of the utmost importance. “Come with me.”

No sooner had he spoke the words than Marques tugged one hand below deck, forcing the rest of her along for the ride. They went somewhere midship, and Marq opened the fridge located in the belly of the ship’s kitchen. He pulled out a loaf of French bread and several bags of chips. Sitting the armful on the counter, he unwrapped the yeasty loaf, slicing then filling the split halves. Before Jamie knew it, she was watching him finish off the sandwich with an olive on a toothpick. He sat the sandwich halves and chip options between them.

“Ladies first.”

“What is it?”

“Just taste it. Its vegetarian approved, so you should be all right.”

Summoning up the courage to eat the unknown food took a moment. But when Jamie took the first bite, the flavors left her punch drunk. The bread was amazing, light and dense at the same time. She could taste corn and spice, followed by alfalfa and vinaigrette. “It’s a corn and black-bean salsa with southwest faux “tuna” salad on French beer bread.”

“It’s—” The words were cut off as she could only smile and take another huge bite.

“I’m glad you like it.”

She didn’t respond as her mouth was still full. Marq watched her eat one half and then eye the other. He slid the plate closer and let a healthy smirk play around his lips.

“Have some more.”

“I shouldn’t.” The words were guilty, and Jamie opened a bag of kettle chips. She ate a few and mentally calculated how much time she had left until she needed to be in Charli’s room. Mak should be on board in a few minutes, and then they could have a gossip session first. Usually they talked, and she listened. It was what she was good at.

After she put away a few more crispy chips in her belly, Jamie took a bottle of water offered by her handsome host. She drained half then made her excuses.

“T–thanks for lunch.”

“No thanks needed, Jamison. Feel free to ask me for anything. No matter how big or small. I’m going to wrap the rest for you to have later. If you don’t eat it by the evening, I can make you another one later.” Marq stood and took the half sandwich, wrapping it up and placing it back in the fridge.

Jamie left the kitchen and found herself wandering in circles. The ship was huge, nearly the size of a cruise ship, and when she found herself passing the same picture for the third time, knew she needed help. But instead of asking, Jamie walked the circuit again and found a door leading above ship. When she met the light of day, Jamie blinked scratchy eyes, once again wishing she had her glasses on. The contacts would work in a pinch, but her eyes always felt dry and slightly itchy when using them.

By the time Jamie wandered back to her cabin, she was tired and sorely wished for another nap. But there wasn’t time at this point really. The wedding was scheduled for sunset, and the reception was opening the event. Kind of backward, but Charli decided participants would have more fun on the yacht by day than at night. Plus with the event finished earlier, the honeymoon could begin immediately. Some guests had already milled aboard and were dipping toes in the pools or Jacuzzi tubs sprinkled throughout the deck. Several of the waitstaff already mingled with the handful of guests, offering champagne and canapés.

Jamie walked on. She wanted to avoid the random conversations that tended to occur at these types of functions. As she was a listener, strangers tended to take advantage of her nonjudgmental ear. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up conversing about someone’s last bout with gout or eyeing photos of children and grandkids she would never meet. Let alone the one time she had a random conversation with a guy she thought was cute. “Was cute” being the operative words, as the conversation took a weird turn, and Jamie found out Mr. Right had a nasty case of syphilis he was battling with the aid of modern medicine.
Ugh.
Definitely not the man for her in any shape, form, or fashion, Jamison thought. The next turn led her to the interior of the yacht where the bridal party and immediate family were to sleep and change clothes.