Pleasure Cruise (22 page)

“Thanks, Mom.” Winter frowned, momentarily disheartened by her best friend’s mood. Then, forgetting the van like she did with so many ideas in her life, she said, “I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’re the one who froze and didn’t answer. Jock asked you to select your prize. What were you doing anyway, standing there all green and wavy? I almost screamed out for someone to toss you a bucket. That would have been something, you throwing up on national television.”

“I told you, I had a small panic attack.” Anna’s face colored slightly and Winter knew she was silently yelling at herself. Her parents had demanded perfection from her and now she demanded it from herself. It was really quite sad. “The camera was on me and I was calculating how many people were watching national TV at that moment, subtracting a reasonable number for those at work and watching other channels. I estimated it had to be at least a million viewers.”

“Um, no, it was sweeps week so I think it was like five times that and a lot of people have those digital recorders where they can record live TV to watch their shows after work. Not to mention,
Date with Destiny
is dubbed into at least twelve different languages and played worldwide. Granted, it’s not a live broadcast like here in the States and it does lag several weeks behind, but still…”

Anna paled dramatically, looking strikingly similar to the way she had on air. Wringing her hands, she wiped them on her skirt.

Winter reached over to rub small circles between her friend’s tense shoulder blades. “Hey, don’t think about it, sweetie. It’s over. It’s not like they air reruns in the States… much.”

“I know I messed up and didn’t answer but they didn’t have to give me the cruise! I can’t believe they let some heckler from the crowd pick my prize.”

“Yeah,” Winter said, absently following Anna’s gaze toward the piece of designer luggage. The pile of luggage Anna brought with them was far different from the one shoddy duffel bag and a brown paper bag stuffed with Winter’s clothes. “Sorry about that. I just got excited thinking about us taking a vacation together. You never do anything outside of work and I thought this would the perfect chance for you to finally get out of the house. Don’t you have around two years’ worth of vacation time saved up?”

Anna didn’t answer. She looked forward. “Aren’t they going to send someone down to escort us to our room? Where’s the concierge? Bellhops? Anyone?”

“Ah, I don’t think cruise ships have those. They have stewards assigned to the staterooms and a guest service desk. This ship has porters onboard too to assist the stewards. Read about it in the brochure. For the most part, we fend for ourselves.” Winter laughed. “Come on, champ, let’s get moving.”

Christian Badau listened to his twin brother’s loud singing coming from the shower. It was easy to imagine, by the constant thumps from the stall, that Andre was dancing as well. It sounded like this morning was shaping up to be another one of Andre’s one-man rock ‘n’ roll tribute to the Eighties hair bands. Lucky for him, the impromptu concert in the shower didn’t include spandex, eyeliner and hairspray—though that was one outfit he wouldn’t put past his brother. Yesterday it had been alternative music. To Christian’s listening horror, Andre had “performed” what must have been Nirvana’s entire first album before he launched into an oral dissertation on how the band single-handedly unleashed the grunge movement out of Seattle in the Nineties. How any band could have been so angry and depressed was beyond Christian’s understanding, and still Andre managed to find enough of a beat to move to it.

Christian sighed, leaning forward as he peered into the stateroom’s oval bathroom mirror. Combing his long brown hair back from his face, he pulled it into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. Not a hair was out of place when he finished. He had personal grooming down to a science.

He wore nothing but a towel wrapped neatly around his firm waist. His bare feet absently tapped on the floor as Andre started on his next Eighties tune. His twin really wasn’t a bad singer, if he’d just stop butchering the lyrics.

Suddenly the shower turned off and Andre hopped out, glistening wet as he strummed an air guitar while flicking his tongue in and out. Christian’s brow rose as he tried not to watch Andre’s one-man show. Though the event was oddly like a car crash—as much as one didn’t want to look at it, the compulsion to do so trumped all restraints.

Andre didn’t even seem to notice he had an audience,—that, or he just didn’t care. Still humming softly, he grabbed a towel off the wall and haphazardly dried his hair, then his body, not caring that he missed a few spots.

“Hey, let me get in here,” Andre said, dropping his damp towel on the floor and reaching toward the neatly organized sink. He knocked down a bottle of cologne while grabbing the mousse. Squirting some hair product on his hand, he continued humming as he dropped the can in the sink. As Andre moussed his hair, combing the messy length only with his fingers, Christian picked up the fallen bottles. Andre winked at his reflection. “Oh yeah, thanks, I need mousse.”

“You have a bathroom in your
own
cabin, Andre.”

“Oh, I know,
Christian
.” Andre mimicked his brother’s stern tone before saying lightly, “But I sort of forgot to carry my toiletry bag with me through check-in and the baggage handlers haven’t brought all of my bags to the room yet. I don’t have anything but my toothbrush next door. Well, that and some of my clothes, of course.”

“I gave you a list of what to carry on and what to check in.”

“Yeah, and when I was out the other night, I ran into this foxy gal and needed something to give her my number with.” Andre smiled. “It worked great, thanks.”

Christian didn’t dignify the comment with a response. He sighed as Andre grabbed his cologne and put it on, not bothering to recap it when he was done. Picking up after Andre as his brother strode from the bathroom naked, he mumbled, “Just like home.”

Andre ignored his grumbling brother and headed to his cabin in order to dress. Christian spent too much time being perfect. Andre was just the opposite. He liked music, movies, making an artistic mess and a well-written novel, especially the ones that had loads of steamy sex poured on each page. Who wanted to have an intellectual conversation when you could lie on your back and just let your mind drift aimlessly? Or watch the latest hottie ride you as her tits bounced in your face.

Ah
,
this is the life
…
or at least it was
,
for soon I
’
ll be a married man
.

The stateroom was going to be his and his new bride’s. Christian and his future wife would share the stateroom next door to theirs. There was an adjoining door but it locked from both sides to ensure privacy. Already Andre had tried to suggest wife-swapping and his brother had nearly choked the life out of him prior to even boarding. As much as Christian disliked the idea of having a human as a mate, he apparently liked the thought of Andre sharing her even less. Christian had even lectured him on how once he met his true mate and felt the pull of his beast he’d abandon all thoughts of other women.

Not likely
!

He imagined that Christian was a little edgier than usual due to the reason they were on the cruise. It wasn’t every day the Powers That Be decreed you had to get married or face the wrath of a thousand gods… or whatever it was they’d threatened. Andre shrugged. He really hadn’t been paying attention to the details. The goddess who delivered the message had been sexy as sin.

At the time, he’d taken the news in stride with his “whatever will be, will be” attitude. Christian had been more worried, going on and on about the antiquated concept of arranged marriages and how the Elders had no right to make them get married if they didn’t want to—and most certainly not to humans. For some reason Christian had always had a low opinion of humans.

Pleasure Cruise was just one of the many “businesses” the Elders used to match up lifemates. The Badau brothers had managed to weasel out of participating since the repopulation of the supernatural movement started. The Elders were worried because the supernatural kind weren’t mating like they used to. The threat of the bloodlines dying out had caused them to take drastic measures. Both Christian and Andre seriously hoped it was just a fad. Sure, fucking human girls was fun every now and then, but being tied to one for all eternity would really suck ass.

It wasn’t like they could blame the Elders or the Powers That Be for the drastic measures they were now taking. As supernaturals, they technically lived forever and it was hard to mate with someone you remembered from the tenth century as being the jealous over-reactive bitch who nearly got you burned at the stake because you’d slept with her sister after you’d spent the morning screwing her. Oh, or the time he’d almost lost his nuts to a vampiress because she had a pain fetish and decided she wanted to pierce him while he was sleeping. Problem being, she’d used an iron fire poker as her weapon of choice. Andre unconsciously grabbed his balls and shuddered at the thought of the horrifically close call.

Nope, supernaturals had too much history among their own kind. And with their numbers dwindling over the centuries because of accidents, murders, and the all-out witch hunts that had wiped out a good deal of the female supernatural population, it wasn’t like there were a lot of options left to them.

The news that humans were now being considered as mates didn’t just bother Andre and his brother. It had sent a ripple of mixed emotions through the supernatural community. In the past, humans could be used for sex and feedings but they were never considered mating material. Their lives were just too short compared to the eternity he and his brother would live, barring any unnatural demise. Already they were well over three hundred years old. It was hard falling in love only to know it was going to be ripped away in a few short years by mortality. Not to mention your mate would look more like your grandmother after about thirty or forty years of marriage. Some people got into doing that sort of thing, he wasn’t one of them.

The Elders had solved that problem too. They convinced the Powers That Be to grant human mates immortality and the changing, so they might become like their supernatural mates. The mortals were screened by the gods to make sure they could carry supernatural children successfully and survive the change before they were recruited as unknowing mates. Only under special circumstances like divine intervention could a human be a true mate and carry a supernatural child. To mate them to a woman who would never be able to have a baby would defeat the Powers That Be’s purpose in mating them for the sake of boosting the population. He wondered how the women felt about being treated like broodmares. Hopefully they knew the plan before coming onboard. It wasn’t like he wanted to be the one to break the news.

A soft smile came over his face as he stared absently at the open dresser drawer. He’d never given much thought to children over the years, mainly because he’d never met anyone he’d want to have children with. Pulling out a pair of faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, he slipped on his clothes. It looked like they’d brought the rest of his belongings when he took a shower.

Andre would never tell Christian, but a part of him was excited. How could he not be? Today was going to be a great day.

His smile faltered. At least he hoped the Powers That Be knew what they were doing.

End Excerpt

Now for Sale!

A tropical island that’s seen better days. A downed plane. A marooned boat. And two gorgeous supernaturals who’ll stop at nothing to claim their mates.

Jurgen wants Annette in the worst—or best—way, and he intends to make her his. Finding a way to get off the island can wait until he’s shown her all the pleasures to be found with a shapeshifter mate who’ll stop at nothing to ensure she’s his—forever.