“Oh, my God! It’s him!”

Oh, my God, Kit thought again, it’s the man from the plane. And he was none other than Joshua Parker, the man her roommates fawned over. Kit’s mortification flared. She’d never expected to see him again, the man she’d shared sexual innuendo with, the man whose proposition she almost accepted. Yet here he was, and worse, he was someone famous—and the man she was supposed to interview!

“Sorry, Kit,” Georgia said, “but every time I see him I can’t believe a man can be that beautiful. He looks so wonderful in black. Don’t you think so?”

He’d look much better somewhere else, Kit thought.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Harlequin American Romance, where you’re guaranteed upbeat and lively love stories set in the backyards, big cities and wide-open spaces of America.

Kick-starting the month is an AMERICAN BABY selection by Mollie Molay. The hero of The Baby in the Back Seat is one handsome single daddy who knows how to melt a woman’s guarded heart! Next, bestselling author Mindy Neff is back with more stories in her immensely popular BACHELORS OF SHOTGUN RIDGE series. In Cheyenne’s Lady, a sheriff returns home to find in his bed a pregnant woman desperate for his help. Honor demands that he offer her his name, but will he ever give his bride his heart?

In Millionaire’s Christmas Miracle, the latest book in Mary Anne Wilson’s JUST FOR KIDS miniseries, an abandoned baby brings together a sophisticated older man who’s lost his faith in love and a younger woman who challenges him to take a second chance on romance and family. Finally, don’t miss Michele Dunaway’s Taming the Tabloid Heiress, in which an alluring journalist finesses an interview with an elusive millionaire who rarely does publicity. Exactly how did the reporter get her story?

Enjoy all four books—and don’t forget to come back again in December when Judy Christenberry’s Triplet Secret Babies launches Harlequin American Romance’s continuity MAITLAND MATERNITY: TRIPLETS, QUADS & QUINTS, and Mindy Neff brings you another BACHELORS OF SHOTGUN RIDGE installment.

Wishing you happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

Taming the Tabloid Heiress

Michele Dunaway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To Ed & the DOBC

My immortal compadres

and

To Patience & Melissa

for believing in me

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In first grade Michele Dunaway knew she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and by second grade she wanted to be an author. By third grade she was determined to be both. Born, raised and currently living in St. Louis, Missouri, she’s traveled extensively, with the cities and places she’s visited often becoming settings for her stories. Michele knows all about love at first sight—after meeting her husband on a rained-out float trip in the Missouri Ozarks, they were engaged two weeks later and married six months after that.

Michele currently fulfills both her dreams of teaching and writing, and together with her happily-ever-after husband, she raises two young daughters.

Books by Michele Dunaway

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

848—A LITTLE OFFICE ROMANCE

900—TAMING THE TABLOID HEIRESS

DESTINATION: PARADISE

Don’t forget to bring:

• Your clever disguise to escape those tabloid reporters.

• Plenty of money (you are an heiress, after all) to buy:

Souvenirs for your angry father.

A sexy bikini in the hopes that Joshua Parker will see you in it.

• Your sassy attitude.

• Your best journalistic instincts.

• Your ticket!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

The Tattler, Thursday, Nov. 21

Mary Lynn’s About the Town

Kit’ten Dogs Fiancé!

Only if you were there would you believe it! (See picture page one.) New York’s most notorious heiress, the antic-loving Kit O’Brien, did it again. This time she upended a bowl of dog food, dumping it over Blaine Rourke, her father’s favorite godson and, as speculated in this column last week, her fiancé. Sources close to the family inform me that her father, Michael O’Brien, C.E.O. of the Fortune 250 company O’Brien Publications, is absolutely furious! One has to wonder how Kit’s going to pacify her father this time. Will she finally give in to his demands and tie the knot? One thing’s for sure, with Kit you never know what antic she’ll pull next.

“So, have you ever made love on a plane?”

The words rolled silkily off his tongue, and Kit O’Brien’s green eyes widened at the audacity of the handsome male passenger who had been seated next to her for the past two hours.

“Are you propositioning me?” Although she blinked, Kit held her gaze steadfast to mask her inward shock. Despite her reputation, never before had a man been so bold, or so brash. Afternoon sunlight flickered through the first-class window as he gave her a wicked grin.

“And if I am?” His full lips curled teasingly, creating a slight dimple in his right cheek.

Kit felt shivers shoot through her body, all the way down her legs to her toes, which were cramped in what masqueraded as sensible flats. The brazen answer that teased provocatively from her mouth before she had any rational thought to stop it ignited the stuffy atmosphere. “I’d have to think about it.”

“You do that and let me know.” He closed his lips slowly over the edge of the plastic cup in a gesture bordering on erotic.

Ooh, he was smooth. She could lose herself in those glittering and glistening, dangerous brown eyes.

But that would be a mistake.

He turned his gaze away, releasing Kit from his hypnotic spell. Even though the possibility of caving in to his outrageous suggestion was gone, Kit felt little relief. Clamping her mouth shut, she reached forward to return her empty plastic cup to the foldout tray. Her hand shook and the cup wobbled before she righted it. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed her body’s immediate physical response to his provocative words.

He was quite a piece of work, she thought. They had been talking on and off since leaving New York at 11 a.m., but right now since his attention was not on her, Kit tried to relax. Never before had she run across someone quite like him, someone who had sent her senses reeling with just one piercing look.

Whoever he was, he was temptation. A magazine lay across his lap, hiding legs clad in black jeans. A heated awareness prickled Kit’s skin, her equilibrium as disturbed now as when he had taken his seat two hours ago. Then she had gazed, transfixed, until he had pointed with a well-manicured finger at the empty seat next to her.

At that moment, although she had been acutely conscious of her flushed cheeks, she could not break her stare. He had looked down his pointed, perfect Roman nose, and given her the amused knowing smile of a man used to being the center of attention. And, when he stripped off his black sport coat Kit’s mouth dried to sandpaper and her throat tightened. The broadcloth button-down hinted at perfectly formed muscles. When he had moved past her to access the window seat his legs had brushed hers. Kit swore fireworks had ignited from the way her body tingled.

Kit shook from the reverie and attempted to focus. She had no time for erotic thoughts about a man she didn’t know. She had four days before facing her father and his reaction to her latest public stunt. As she attempted to tug her short knit skirt down to her knees, her seatmate shifted, his black Western boots coming briefly into view. She froze.

He was a cowboy, she decided, closing her eyes and letting herself fantasize about her seatmate. He certainly had a primitive, masculine look. Chestnut-colored hair cascaded over his collar to just above his shoulders, and Kit pictured tying his wavy tresses back with a rawhide lace.

No, she shook off that fantasy, replacing it with another. Instead she would take her fingers and tuck the strands gently up underneath a black Stetson. When she was finished with his hair, his rugged and virile hands would stroke her, yet his touch would be gentle despite being accustomed to holding fast the reins of unbroken stallions. She would trace a finger across the stubble of his jaw, and his fingers would slide lower, ready to caress her into absolute ecstasy.

Kit opened her eyes and lowered her lashes so she could venture another glance at his luminous brown eyes and heart-shaped face.

Did she really want to just slip up to the first-class lavatory with him? The illicit thought of his full lips catching hers and trailing kisses down her neck sent tremors racing down her spine. His hands would cup her buttocks, lifting her up to him, and his mouth would caress her breast. She would wind her fingers in those luscious long locks, and he would fill her body as if he were made just to please her. With knowing strokes he would take her to heights she had never imagined or experienced. Marry me, he would whisper huskily, his breath warm against her ear. Marry me….

Hold it! Mentally Kit wrenched herself from her Walter Mitty dream world and began to silently chastise herself. Except for his body’s effect on hers, she knew nothing about him, and even if she did, she didn’t do things like this! She was probably the oldest virgin in America, despite everyone’s belief to the contrary. And the last thing she needed would be any more public scandal.

The now-infamous dog food incident she was running away from was bad enough. Not only was her father furious at her previous night’s behavior, but she knew Blaine wasn’t too happy with her, either. And she was desperate to escape both of their wraths.

Hence her editor, Eleni’s, priceless expression earlier that morning. Anything had to be better than a confrontation with her father after another tabloid antic, and Kit had snatched the assignment Eleni had offered her, sight unseen and without a press packet. Who cared if she wouldn’t know until tomorrow even the name of the person she was to interview? The fact that the assignment was far away from home was all that mattered. She could wait until tomorrow morning for the press kit to arrive by overnight mail. Then she would just wing it.

And she’d flaunt her success when she got back. Much to her father’s chagrin she’d have interviewed whomever and written a dynamite exposé. Then her father would have to let Eleni assign Kit to more serious stories. She was tired of the marshmallow fluff her editor gave her. Wine, art and society stories had been great to cut her teeth on, but now they were boring.

Not only that, but Kit’s father, the publishing icon, refused to let her write under her own name. Even with respectable stories, she had to hide behind the pseudonym Carol Jones. How uninventive. No, it was time her father gave her a real chance. Kit squared her jaw. She would succeed.

For a moment she wondered what the unknown person she would be interviewing looked like. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to catch her flight she might have found out. Oh, well. If it was a guy and he looked anything like the man seated next to her, well, the assignment would be a dream come true.

Succumbing to her nervous habit, she bit her bottom lip and stole another glance toward the window.

What was it about this man, anyway? Calvin Klein models couldn’t hold a candle to him. With a sigh Kit rubbed her left ear to relieve the pressure, but it didn’t help. Disturbed by the wicked thoughts still dancing in her head, she removed the last honey-roasted peanut from the foil pouch sitting on her tray and popped it into her mouth.

Anything to keep her mind off the way his firm fingers sensually rolled his laptop computer’s trackball as he played solitaire.

Kit settled back into the seat, her thoughts wistful. What would it be like to just once completely let go, to feel unbridled passion and get away without anyone recording her every move? Just slip up to the front lavatory with him….

Kit brushed aside the tempting but wicked thought.

Opening her eyes, she watched him move the ten of clubs before again studying his game.

“Move that eight. It plays on the nine of hearts,” Kit said as she pointed out a move he had missed for two draws. “Next, move that four. It plays on that five right there.”

He arched an eyebrow up expectantly at her. “Did you want a turn?”

“No.”

“Just checking. I did think this game was called solitaire for a reason. But if you change your mind and want to play I’m sure we could arrange something.” His dubious grin and innuendo should have infuriated her, but oddly it didn’t. Kit frowned as the airplane banked slightly and the Atlantic came into her view.

“There’s the ocean. We must be almost there.” She pointed directly in front of his nose. Patiently he turned to her and folded the screen down. A little chill ran down her spine. The chill avalanched at his next words.

“Pity.” Mirth laced his voice as the captain announced their impending approach to Miami. “It could have been so very interesting, ma chérie. Oui? But we now are no longer a mile high.”

Kit flushed at his French-Canadian accent. Did he use that delicious accent with the women he took to his bed? She shuddered involuntarily at the illicit thought, and then she managed to get a grip on herself.

“My loss.” Kit raised her shoulders and let them down slowly in an eloquent, dismissive shrug. Her strawberry-blond hair bobbed around her shoulders. “I shall have to go my whole life wondering what if…what if we had had one of those magical encounters of two ships passing in the night? What if we just missed the most dizzying lovemaking of our lives? Ah, but unfortunately life is just one big what if.”

Yes, she could pretend to be a vixen when she needed to. There was at least a sliver of truth in those mythical tabloid accounts of her sex life. She smiled to herself when he jerked his eyes away from her.

The plane began its final approach and Kit’s smile faded. At the captain’s orders she readjusted her seat belt, thoughts of her seatmate disappearing as the panic began. Fingers tense, she gripped the armrests. Although she had flown to all corners of the world, she still feared takeoffs and landings.

She screwed her eyes shut, missing the look of concern that crossed her seatmate’s face as she began using breathing exercises in order to remain calm. Slowly she inhaled and exhaled, letting her chest rise and fall in a rhythmic motion. Few knew the fearless Kit O’Brien had an Achilles’ heel. Few had seen the one-woman rebellion grip her seat as if the devil himself was flying.

In the numbing black Kit felt a stray hair lift away from her terrified face. Through her mindless panic Kit suddenly felt a fire as skin touched skin. His right hand covered her left one, his fingertips slowly caressing her whitened knuckles. An electric energy of desire liquefied her veins, sending warmth spreading through her. His touch made her forget herself, and Kit barely felt the beginning of the descent. Her body hummed from his touch, and she imagined him kissing her. He claimed her ruby lips, tasting and teasing them with his tongue until they were swollen with the blood of passion.

The blessed thump came, and brakes squealed in their whine to stop the speeding plane. Slowly Kit opened her eyes, blinking to shake off disorientation. Though she was finally on the ground, she wasn’t sure she was safe. In the span of less than three hours, Kit knew her life had somehow been altered, but she wasn’t sure exactly how.

Focusing on the seat back in front of her, she brought the fingers of her right hand up to touch her lips. She felt the stickiness of her lipstick and exhaled deeply. It was fantasy, although it had seemed so real.

The pressure of his fingers lifted as he abruptly withdrew his hand from hers. His voice sounded almost curt. “We’re here.”

Kit blinked twice and focused as an icy coolness descended upon her hand. Her skin still tingled, missing the heat of his fingers. “Uh, good.”

Steadying her shaking voice, Kit continued to speak as the plane came to a stop. “Thanks for nursing me through the landing. It was sweet.”

He raised an eyebrow and Kit wondered if he knew that her thoughts a moment ago had been anything but sweet.

“It was nothing.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, and Kit felt her feminine ego shatter a bit as he dismissed her. She didn’t know why she was expecting something from a total stranger, but somehow she did. Maybe she really was the fool her father insisted she was.

With new determination she stood, the moment the seat belt light went off. “Well, thanks for sharing the flight. I’m off. I’ve got a rather difficult job ahead of me.”

“Good luck.” He didn’t blink, but instead looked at her as if memorizing her features.

Kit flushed. “Thanks.”

He didn’t respond, but instead joined her in the aisle. He towered four inches over her, and Kit stepped back. He must be at least six feet tall, she mused, watching him retrieve her two carry-on pieces with an almost practiced ease.

Oh, well, Kit thought a bit wistfully as he shrugged into his black sport coat. One more look couldn’t hurt. She let her gaze travel down his shirt’s button line to where it tapered to a perfectly proportioned waist. As he turned away from her, Kit decided that whoever he was, he was definitely one fit man. His masculine aura so fully commanded the small section of first class that the gray-haired woman behind her jostled her aside for a better view.

Knocked off balance, Kit crashed forward into him. He caught her easily, and under the soft cloth of his shirt taut muscles rippled. Instinctively her fingertips splayed across his firm chest. So hard, so solid…her knees wobbled as her body immediately molded to his. Delicious delirium overcame her as she inhaled his musky, all-male scent.

His strong arms steadied her. As his deep brown eyes looked down at her, Kit felt as if she were sinking into those gold-flecked pools.

“Are you okay?”

His soft-spoken words brought reality crashing back in. Shaken, Kit stepped away, but not before she saw his eyes darken and his face cloud over.

“I’m fine,” she lied, wondering if he had felt her desire. Did he know how tempted she had been by him during the flight? His guarded expression revealed nothing, and his long brown lashes hooded his eyes. Kit knew she couldn’t leave it like this. This man was going to haunt her dreams, and she didn’t even know his name. He at least had to have a name. Panic overwhelmed her, and she knew she had to say something to him, no matter what the consequences.

“Come on, honey. I’ve got to catch a connection to San Juan. Could you get a move on?”

“What?” Kit turned in disbelief to look at the woman behind her. The carry-ons Kit held crashed into one of the seats, and she paused to readjust her grip. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The woman’s flat smile revealed her irritation and impatience.

Kit put on her most dazzling smile and turned around. “It was nice to have—”

The aisle ahead of her was empty. He was gone.

LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER Kit wondered what she had gotten herself into as she slid the pass card into the door handle of cabin 4648. The room certainly wasn’t what she was accustomed to, or what she was expecting.

“At least it’s an outside view,” Kit muttered as she slowly opened the door to the last spot available on less than twenty-four hours’ notice. Although the Island Voyager billed itself as a modern, comfortable ship, Kit decided the description didn’t apply to the bottom class of cabins.

Kit wrinkled her nose as she surveyed the dorm-size rectangular room she would be sharing with a roommate. The window was directly opposite the door, and on each side of the window were two tiny twin beds. Above them upper berths, normally hidden in the ceiling, were now lowered and locked into place.

Kit faced the window. The writing desk next to her right hip doubled as a dresser. Then she turned to her left. The sink and dressing table were on this wall, along with a small closet that was next to the sink. Even the door leading to the shower and toilet was small. Not a lot of space for one person, much less two. Her bathroom at home was twice as large as the entire room.

But the cabin would have to suffice for the three nights she would be on the Last Frontier theme cruise.

Kit pictured Eleni’s face, and now she knew why her editor had gotten that odd expression when Kit had accepted the assignment.

“I won’t be able to get you a press kit or an assignment sheet until tomorrow,” Eleni had said. “I’ll have a package meet the ship in Nassau.”

“Fine,” Kit had said.

“If you’re sure. They say they have one passenger spot available.” Eleni had pushed a stray brown hair out of her face. “You’d have to be willing to share a cabin.”

“A roommate?” Kit had blinked, but at that moment Eleni’s intercom had buzzed with the announcement that Michael O’Brien was on his way up. Unwilling to face her father, Kit had said, “I’ll take it.”

“Get going.” Eleni had waved at the door to the side hall. “You can pick up your tickets at LaGuardia. Just enjoy yourself until the information arrives tomorrow. And, Kit, be sensible!”

With that Kit had fled. And so here she was, sharing a cabin with someone she didn’t know, and all of this in order to do an interview she wouldn’t know anything about until tomorrow.

Kit glanced at her watch and wondered how Eleni had fared with Kit’s father, the domineering patriarch of O’Brien Publications. Knowing her father’s temper and his belief that his society daughter should not work, Kit was sure the morning meeting had not gone well. No, her father would be furious she had escaped to an out-of-town assignment. She grimaced. She owed her editor a big one.

Still, Kit needed these next four days. Not only would she prove herself a worthy journalist, she might even get to relax before going home. By that time, perhaps, her brother, Cameron, would have yet another new girlfriend. Her father loved the idea of getting Cameron married even more than he liked the idea of Kit marrying. Every time Cameron had a girlfriend it usually took the heat off Kit for a while.

She rotated her neck to stretch out the kinks left over from the flight. After the press packet and assignment sheet arrived tomorrow, she would do the interview, write the story, and get her father off of her back in the process.

The door opened and Kit waited for her roommate. More than one person entered, but Kit ignored the conundrum and smiled.

“Kit!” The woman Kit had had the misfortune of being seated next to on the bus from the airport screeched shrilly in delight and gave Kit a big, smothering bear hug. “I didn’t believe it when I saw that you were in our cabin! I’m Georgia, remember?”

“Our cabin?” Kit blinked as Georgia released Kit and another woman stepped into the cabin.

“Right, you’re rooming with me, Becca and Paula. Becca’s by the pool. Paula, this is Kit, Kit, Paula. Anyway I said, Paula, I met Kit on the bus. She’s really sweet and she thinks Last Frontier is the greatest thing since sliced bread. And since Carmen had to cancel on us, at least we’ve got Kit.” Georgia inspected the view out the window. “Look! I can see the building where we checked in!”

“Nice to meet you, Paula.” Kit offered her hand automatically to hide her shock. Oh, no. Not one, but three roommates. And they all believed she loved a television show, one she’d never even seen! Somehow she remained calm. “I’m Kit O’Brien.”

“Paula Sullivan from Sandpoint, Idaho,” Paula replied, returning the handshake. She assessed Kit for a moment, her direct gaze speculative. “You look familiar. Have you ever been on television?”

“Um, no,” Kit said quickly, ignoring the time she had been on Hard Copy for chaining herself to a fence to stop an historic building from being torn down.

Paula ran a hand through the long black hair that fell to her waist and shrugged. “Probably not.”

Kit shuddered with relief as Georgia bustled about the claustrophobic room like a mother hen. “I want a top bunk. Be sure to take one of the bottom bunks if you want, Kit.”

“Thanks.” Kit sat down on the bottom bunk opposite the bathroom as Georgia continued to open drawers and explore every inch of the tiny cabin. She hoped Georgia didn’t snore. She hadn’t thought to pack earplugs.

“It’s 3:45! Time to get moving, y’all.” Georgia remained in motion, this time heading toward the door. “I want to get registered for the events and then get a good spot to watch the boat sail. They’ve put all of us on late seating at 7:15. Since we’ll go directly to the party afterward, everybody needs to wear their dresses to dinner. Did I tell you about the last theme cruise I went on, Paula?”

Kit ignored her roommate’s conversation, her brow furrowing. She was terribly unprepared for this assignment. Normally she did tons of research, not just stuff clothes into a carry-on and wait for an assignment sheet to arrive.

“Are you ready, Kit?” Georgia was still in motion. “We sail in thirty minutes, and Paula and I want a good spot. Let’s move it, y’all.”

For the lack of having any better idea or plan, Kit decided to just let her roommates sweep her along. The way her luck was going, it couldn’t hurt.

JOSHUA PARKER LET the warm ocean breeze flow through the brown shoulder-length locks that had less than one week until shorn short. He turned his face toward the sun, inhaling the salt-tinged air deep into his lungs. Even the fact that the boat was still docked in port, with the oily port smell mixing in, did little to discourage the feeling of well-being now filling him.

He had to admit, despite his initial reservations of participating in a theme cruise, the ship was nice, the weather wonderful. And he definitely could do without the cold dreary New York City November he had left behind. He was tired of slush melting around subway vents, tired of gray skies and tired of the gloom caused by buildings that refused to let the elusive sun touch the ground.

Even winter in Upstate New York would feel freer than the city that had snared his soul and held it captive for nine years. Escape was just around the corner, almost in sight, and Joshua wanted, with a passion, to permanently claim the open skies that hovered above his apple orchards. Even under a foot of snow his land remained unmarred by progress for miles and miles on end, glistening in its infinite whiteness.

Joshua sighed and admitted the truth—the rebel inside his soul was gone. No longer a wild child, now all he wanted was to return to the life of a gentleman farmer, as his father had phrased it many times before their big fight. It was a Jeffersonian phrase Joshua had once hated, but now it meant freedom, and freedom was what he craved.

Joshua turned from the enticing view of blue-green water that his private balcony afforded and opened the sliding glass door to reenter his suite. A blast of cool, manufactured air greeted his face, and as he surveyed the sitting area of the penthouse suite, he wondered how many other people had two love seats and a coffee table in their cabin. It was more space than he needed. He walked over to the minibar. Since he wasn’t paying for this cruise he might as well indulge in luxuries like three-dollar bottled water and penthouse suites.

In fact, if the cruise hadn’t been so important to the executive producers and owners of Last Frontier, Joshua doubted he would have even bothered to attend. With the hit television show in its final season, he wanted to permanently close this chapter of his life. Sure, the fans loved the show he had created and nurtured, but the success of Last Frontier had left him oddly empty. In fact, it had burned him out and soured him on writing.

Maybe that’s why he had bought the farm, doing four years ago what his father had first wanted for his only son.

The age-old cliché fit best, Joshua thought. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. At age thirty-two he had come full circle, finding himself in the same place he would have been, anyway, only now he met his father man-to-man.

The boy who had once selfishly destroyed his father’s chance of a political career, not once but twice, had disappeared. In his place was a man who knew that parents were to be treasured, not tormented.

It was something the childish Kit O’Brien would find out in her own time, if she ever stopped running away long enough to grow up.

He took a long sip of the cold water and remembered the look of interest flickering behind Kit’s green eyes when he boarded the plane.

Joshua grinned, recalling her expression at his proposition. The words had somehow rolled easily off his tongue, the idea of seducing New York’s most notorious heiress in an airplane lavatory too irresistible to pass up.

She had almost taken him up on it, he thought with an ironic smile. She had almost consented without even knowing who he was, which had made her all the more interesting to him.

Usually people wanted something from him in return for their attentions, ever since the first Last Frontier convention, when he had become a fan idol. He hated it.

Worse, as much as he understood Bill Davies’s reasons, he still blamed Bill for forcing him into the public light. The producer had insisted Joshua make a few cameos in the show, and he’d insisted Joshua make appearances at fan conventions.

All Joshua had wanted was to fade into the background and let only the actors’ stars shine, but Bill hadn’t listened to Joshua’s arguments until the show had manifested into a cult phenomenon with a life of its own.

But by then the damage to Joshua’s privacy could never be repaired. Now there were Web sites where people who knew nothing about him discussed his personal life and speculated on it. Stemming from that were the women who wanted Joshua Parker, the man who could possibly make them a star, not Joshua Parker, the person. Once bitten, twice shy. Been there, done that, never again.

Joshua shook his head. From her champagne-and-caviar reputation of having careened through at least three fiancés, he knew Kit probably had men pursuing her all the time.

But except for his blatant proposition made for the heck of it, he wasn’t pursuing her. Nor would he want to. The price of being associated with Kit O’Brien would be too high, too public. His philosophy was to only read the tabloids, not be in them. No, long ago he’d learned the hard way to give tabloid reporters a wide berth, knowing now that they always printed the worst.

But after meeting the infamous Kit O’Brien, he’d decided she backed up all the press and rumors about her.

And the rumors said she wasn’t currently available, anyway, despite last night’s fiasco. The morning tabloid headlines revealed for everyone her public humiliation of Blaine Rourke, the man everyone pegged as Kit’s current fiancé. Despite Kit’s dumping Meaty Choice dog food over Blaine’s head and down his tux at a charity dog show, “her father’s favorite godson” wasn’t likely to give up on getting Kit to the altar, even if one daily paper had snidely headlined the story Kit’ten Dogs Fiancé.

Although he hated the press, he had to admit he was somewhat curious as to why the society brat had done it. At the local newsstand where he normally purchased his Times, he had instead picked up the tabloid and skimmed the entire article. Of course the article didn’t give any clues as to her motives. He had replaced the tabloid and paid for his New York Times newspaper.

She probably didn’t have an excuse, doing it only to see her face in the papers. He’d done the same thing himself, when he was young and immature. No wonder her desperate need for escape, Joshua thought wryly as he sipped his water. Her father’s wrath was bad enough that she had flown away at first light.

Still, unlike his own father, Joshua knew as well as Kit probably did that Michael O’Brien was more smoke than fire. He had tolerated Kit’s well-publicized antics each time, no matter how outrageous. Joshua particularly remembered the people at the newsstand discussing her swimming with the seals in a skin-colored bikini to focus on animal rights. If he also remembered it right, there was a time she spent the night in a cardboard box in the middle of winter with some drunk ruffian to call attention to the plight of the homeless.

The grass was always greener, Joshua mused with a tinge of bitterness. Kit didn’t realize how lucky she was. Time after time her father forgave her and bailed her out of her messes. He hadn’t been so lucky. After costing his father his dream, his father’s disappointment measured in a very long, silent period. Maybe that’s why she remained so spoiled, and had been such a temptation to him on the airplane. She clearly had a passion for life.

Joshua blinked and tossed the now empty water bottle effortlessly into the wastebasket. His calves ached, so he kicked off his shoes. Here he was, on a cruise, and despite his exhaustion he was still wired. Normally he tried to catch a nap on the plane, but sitting next to Kit had made napping absolutely impossible. As he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, he again pictured her face as he asked her if she had ever made love on a plane. Her mouth had puckered into a surprised O and her green eyes had darkened to almost an emerald. Her soft reddish hair had shimmered as she shivered.

Too bad he hadn’t discovered what the rest of her body felt like next to his. If it was anything like the sparks that erupted between them when she had tripped on the plane and he had caught her against his chest…loving her body would be phenomenal.

In fact, as a male who lately had chosen a long period of celibacy, he had needed to make a quick retreat from the plane in order to hide his body’s immediate reaction to the feel of hers.

Joshua opened his eyes and glanced at his watch. Five minutes before he had to leave for the Last Frontier staff meeting. He let his thoughts drift. Kit hadn’t mentioned where she was going. Miami was a connection to just about anywhere.

Not that it mattered at this point in his life. Kit O’Brien would never fit into his world. She was parties and fancy clothes. He was jeans and a cowboy hat, mud and muck and the farm near Syracuse, New York. Her limo probably took her everywhere. He always took the subway in the city.

In a little less than three weeks he would ride his horse every morning through the orchards, supervise the dairy operation and return full-time to his nonfiction writing, a career he had put on hold once he had begun scripting Last Frontier. She’d be deep in the party rounds of the “A” list society Christmas season.

Still, he thought with a grin as he closed his eyes and pictured the way Kit’s yellow knit skirt clung to and revealed her shapely, toned legs, she was something to behold.

Chapter Two

Four hours later Kit attempted to concentrate on figuring out the world of Last Frontier. Her roommates hadn’t sighted any of the cast members, although they’d certainly talked about one of them, a Joshua Parker, more than the others.

“Kit!”

Kit looked over at Georgia, who was waving a hand in front of Kit’s face. “Yes?”

“You’re looking a little pale. Are you okay? Do you need me to wrap your ankle? I brought an elastic bandage.”

“No thanks, Georgia, I’m fine. Really. I told you it’s nothing.” Kit smiled reassuringly. Just her luck to have twisted her ankle in front of a hypochondriac.

Georgia looked like a dubious mother hen. “If you say so. If you change your mind I’ve got the bandage right here in my purse. I never travel without an emergency kit.”

With that Georgia began watching a video on one of the Topsider Lounge’s screens. Reminding Kit of a hotel dance club, the lounge consisted of chrome rails and raised seating areas. The topmost seating was upstairs on the Compass Deck, which sounded glamorous but was really just a deck surrounding the outside of the lounge.

Kit wasn’t quite sure what to make of her roommates. Freely admitting to being a rabid fan of Last Frontier, Georgia was obviously the leader, even picking out the table on the main level.

“Here comes the waitress. What does everyone want? This round’s on me.” Georgia announced. Paula and Becca, Kit’s other roommates, offered no resistance and ordered cocktails.

Kit shook her head in refusal, but to no avail. Georgia ordered, anyway, and the waitress moved away.

“I got you some wine.” Georgia studied Kit matter-of-factly. “You only had one glass of champagne with dinner.”

“Really, I usually try to have only one.” In fact, it had been months since she had had more than one glass of wine, except for wine tasting, and then the procedure was to spit it out.

Kit’s protest fell on deaf ears as Georgia cut her off. “You’ll have one glass of wine, honey. It’s good for the arteries, and it’s not like you’re driving anywhere, sugar. Has anyone seen either Bob or Joshua yet?” Georgia turned to search the room for her idols.

Kit smiled wryly. Again Georgia had told her how life was going to be. Georgia and her father would probably get along great, but Kit just didn’t have the heart to upset Georgia the way she would her father.

The waitress returned with the drinks at the same time a cruise representative arrived on the dance floor with a microphone. Kit took a small sip of her wine, rolled it over her tongue and wrinkled her nose. Bottom-grade white zinfandel. Her father had subjected her to a wine course when she was twenty-one. While she had found the class boring, it had been the way he’d finally let her into her chosen profession. Her father didn’t want her to work, and writing about wine had been her entry into magazine features.

She snapped to attention as everyone began clapping and cheering. She had missed the introduction of the man who now took the stage. Kit craned her neck and surveyed him. He was about fifty. Could this be her subject?

“Who?” She whispered at Paula’s back.

“Bill Davies, the executive producer. His production company owns and distributes the show. He bought Joshua’s pilot.” Paula didn’t even turn around.

“Oh.” Kit leaned back in her chair. Frustrated that she wouldn’t know until tomorrow, she studied the crowd of people who called themselves LaFrofans. Second only to Trekkies in their loyalty and devotion, Kit knew that each had shelled out at least $1,000 to come on the cruise. The room was about 60 percent women, and many of them were obviously with husbands or significant others. The participants’ ages ranged from a few women Kit’s age to some appearing about seventy, with the average age somewhere around late thirties to early forties.

A confused awareness suddenly caused her spine to prickle. Someone was looking at her. Kit swiveled around in her seat to look behind her, her gaze instantly connecting with that of the man from the plane.

What in the world was he doing here? He stood watching her from the doorway, the look of surprise on his face quickly masked. He didn’t even have the decency to turn away. Instead he continued his obvious stare, a slight sardonic smile turning his full lips upward. Kit straightened her back when his raised eyebrows signaled his amusement, and then, after a haughty shake of her head, she turned forward again.

“What is it, Kit?” Georgia frowned. “Is anything wrong?”

“Uh, no. I just saw some guy I sat next to on the plane.” Whoever the man from the plane was, she could not acknowledge him now. It was better to pretend they’d never met. She had a job to do.

“Georgia!” Paula’s whisper seemed to echo, and Kit started. “Look! There! In the doorway! Look!”

Georgia turned around, as did just about everyone else in the vicinity of Paula’s loud whisper.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! It’s him!” Georgia’s voice came out in a breathless rush, and Kit thought Georgia was about to have a major heart attack.

The buzz hummed loudly in the room, and Georgia began babbling about how good he looked in black, and as the room erupted into a thunder of cheers and clapping, the man from the plane strode easily into the room and joined Bill Davies on the dance floor. Fans jumped to their feet, but Kit stayed rooted to her chair, doomed.

Oh, my God, Kit mentally repeated Georgia’s words, but with dread instead of enthusiasm. The man from the plane was none other than Joshua Parker, the man her roommates fawned over. Kit’s mortification flared. She’d never expected to see him again, the man she’d shared sexual innuendoes with. Yet here he was, and worse, he was someone famous!

Somewhere she must have crossed a leprechaun, because she certainly didn’t have the luck of her Irish ancestors.

“Sorry, Kit,” Georgia said, breathlessly fanning herself with her hand. “Every time I see him I can’t believe a man can be that beautiful. He’s been our idol since a group of us saw him at a convention eight years ago. I just can’t believe I didn’t sense him—he looks so wonderful in black. Don’t you think so?”

He’d look much better somewhere else. “He looks great,” Kit lied with a nod, inwardly seething behind her perfect poker face. She took a long, slow swallow from her glass, letting the cheap wine burn its way like bitter medicine down her throat. She’d almost accepted this man’s proposition, and worse, he knew she’d considered it.

Now here he was in front of her! Obviously comfortable in his environment of being center stage, Joshua easily answered questions and told light jokes. Kit had to give him credit, when he was with an audience he was a true performer, and they loved him.

He had changed again. This time he wore a simple black long-sleeved shirt and black weekend trousers. Both failed to hide his well-toned, lithe, six-foot body, and Kit could see why the women in the room were absolutely crazy about him. Not only had he given them their favorite television show, but he was gorgeous to boot.

Because of the lounge’s lighting, auburn highlights shimmered and danced through his hair. And those lips. Those lips that had so sexily asked her if she had ever made love on a plane.

Despite her resolve to be nonchalant and impassive, Kit wanted to drop right through the floor. If she had known she was going to see him again she never would have answered him the way she had on the plane.

As if he had a sixth sense of her scrutiny, Joshua turned and looked directly at her. He saluted her with his eyes, sending his straight brows arching upward gently before they turned downward at the corner.

Kit returned his gaze of devilish delight with a haughty, dismissive stare. The corner of his mouth tilted upward in secret amusement, and Kit watched a grin rake across his face. Then he broke eye contact and whispered something to Bill Davies.

Kit took another long, slow sip of her wine. He still could be a cowboy, she thought, massaging her battered ego. He had the primal, all-male desperado look, despite his wearing dress shoes and not cowboy boots.

Kit idly fingered her now-empty wineglass. She wasn’t sure how that happened, and she looked up in time to catch a small, self-satisfied smile crossing Joshua’s face. For a brief moment Kit felt challenged, and she concentrated on the introductions Bill Davies was making as the Last Frontier actors began to cluster together on the stage.

“Fellow LaFrofans, now that you’ve met everyone, we’re about to get started. Tonight is simply one big happy party. Mingle with your Last Frontier family and enjoy the evening. We have only one request. There are over eight hundred fans on the cruise, and over five hundred in here tonight. Please, no autographs. We have a long autograph session scheduled tomorrow, and we promise you will get as many as you need then. Tonight let’s just dance, drink and be decadent! Joshua?”

Joshua stopped whispering to the people Kit guessed to be the various actors and took the microphone from Bill’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks, Bill.” His voice was low and seductively husky. Given the collective sigh reverberating throughout the lounge, Kit figured that half the women in the room must have believed that they had died and gone to heaven. Knots formed in her shoulders as he continued.

“Tonight we’ve decided to start the fan cruise off on the right foot.” His French-Canadian accent caused her stomach to plummet. She took a sip from the new glass of wine in front of her. Not knowing what she was up against, some liquid courage couldn’t hurt.

“Each of the members of the Last Frontier family are going to go out into the audience like this.” Joshua threaded his way past several tables and moved to stand inches from Kit. “We’re each going to dance with one of the fans to start the evening. In the middle of the song, the DJ will invite the rest of you to join us on the dance floor.”

Kit didn’t know which was worse, the fact everyone was staring at her or the fact that Georgia was fanning herself with her hand and hyperventilating simply because Joshua Parker was standing behind Kit’s chair. Kit’s stomach churned, and for the first time in her life she understood fear-induced nausea.

“May I have this dance?”

Kit froze like a deer in the headlights. Despite her shock, her mouth opened. A “no” started to form but never materialized as Joshua’s strong and demanding fingers closed over hers. His firm grip burned, sending waves of desire pulsating through her.

Kit pulled to free herself from his tenacious grip, but instead Paula and Georgia gave her a helpful shove that sent her right into his waiting arms. Joshua smiled and passed the microphone to a steward, who appeared from nowhere. The touch of his fingertips against her elbow felt like a flame as he led her to the dance floor.

The lights dimmed, and the first song was a soft, almost waltz-like wedding reception number. Her concentration evaporated when Joshua Parker expertly took her hands. Years of dance classes came in handy, and she moved automatically while he held her at a polite distance. Laughter and squeals of delight reached her ears as other cast members retrieved their dance partners. Kit gritted her teeth and reminded herself that she had been in trickier spots before and survived the experiences. Barely, but she’d survived.

“You did this deliberately.” Kit’s words sounded biting, but she made her face radiate only happiness.

“So what if I did? Imagine my surprise to see you, ma chérie. Shocking. I never would have pictured you to be a LaFrofan. But here you are, in the flesh.”

The way he said flesh made Kit shudder.

“Anyway, after our brief encounter today I wanted to feel your body close to mine again.” Joshua moved her smoothly and expertly around the floor. “And it definitely fits mine, don’t you think?”

He chuckled softly. As his deep laughter tickled her ear, Kit’s nerve endings sent illicit thoughts racing to her brain. Joshua’s fluid movements impressed her, as did the heat coming from his steely chest, a chest she longed to lean against. His next words brought her back to reality.

“Anyway, I’ve been dying to know your reaction once you discovered me onboard. Did you know on the plane that you had Joshua Parker offering to make you a member of the mile-high club? Most of the women in here would be swooning.”

He repositioned his hand slightly higher on the exposed skin of her back and pulled her closer. The simple movement of five soft fingertips shot heated tremors up and down her spine.

“I’m not most women,” Kit returned heatedly, displaying the Irish temper she was known for. “If this weren’t a public place I would—”

“What? Dump dog food on me? Or maybe a glass of wine?”

“I don’t believe you! You know who I am! You knew on the plane!”

He laughed at her outrage and twirled her, sending her away before guiding her toward him again. Kit understood his intent too late, and his twirl pressed her body directly against his. In a millisecond she felt the masculine call of every firm, tight muscle of his body and her body’s own immediate weak-kneed response to it. The instant loss of sanity she had felt on the plane returned, and even the slight pain from her injured ankle vanished. She drew a quick breath as the next move pushed her away from him.

Control, Kit, she told herself. Get control of yourself. Her eyelids fluttered and she struggled to contain her body’s response to the growing sensation from the simple act of Joshua’s hand in contact with the bare skin on her back. She lost concentration.

“Just think, you and I meeting here, again, like this.” Joshua shifted the fingertips of the hand that held Kit’s, haphazardly caressing the pads on her fingers in the process. Kit shuddered. “And of course I knew who you were. Your reputation precedes you.”

The jerk! Of all the comments he could have made. Kit fumed. “Well, I didn’t recognize you. If I had I would have known exactly how much of a jerk you are.”

Joshua laughed boldly. “I admire your spirit. Too bad we didn’t take advantage of the plane.” He shrugged ruefully. “But life is full of if-onlys, isn’t it, Kit?”

His words trailed off as he dipped her. Kit bristled. How dare he mock her? She discovered he wasn’t finished.

“You know, Kit, it’s a shame. We could’ve had such an interesting time together. I know you want me, Kit, your body can’t lie.”

“C’est la vie,” Kit replied, using one of the few French phrases she knew. She gave an eloquent shrug. “I’m sure I’ll survive the pain. The horror.”

Joshua’s laughter insulted her ears. “Touché, my darling Kit. You’re truly a firebrand. You’ve pierced my heart with your sarcasm and insensitivity for my male ego.”

Only the fact she needed an interview from one of the cast members he worked with kept Kit from spiking her heel into his foot. “Somehow I can’t picture you dying over it.”

Joshua led her through some complicated steps with ease. “No, I doubt I will. After all, a cruise is a cruise. Still, I’m sure you’ll manage to get some publicity out of it somehow. You wouldn’t want Daddy to think you’ve turned over a new leaf. There are plenty of men onboard to dazzle.”

Kit somehow checked her rising fury. The nerve of the man! The arrogance! How dare he speak to her like that. Fine, she thought. Two could play this game. She gave him a saccharine smile, and her tongue dripped syrup.

“You know, that’s oh, so true. I didn’t think you were the only fish in this sea.”

Joshua’s eyes darkened dangerously, and Kit drew herself up and raised her eyebrows at him. He shifted his fingers, his face becoming a mask. “Well said. I almost feel sorry for your fiancé. No wonder he cannot control you.”

Joshua’s gaze held hers until Kit looked away. Strange, foreign feelings coursed through her. What was wrong with her? One glass of wine and her guard dropped.

Kit blinked to focus. She hoped the lights blinding her were from the disco ball hanging from the ceiling and not from someone’s flash. But how could someone born on Friday the thirteenth ever be lucky?

And no man had ever overwhelmed her like Joshua Parker. Over the years she had lost count of the number of men her father tried to match her with. Even good old Pete, her one and only ex-fiancé, had never moved her like this, which was why he was now happily married to someone else. Rallying her defenses, Kit readied her arsenal but the song ended.

Joshua pulled her next to him, and Kit gazed up at him, willing her features to take on a look of pure defiance.

“You were just great.” His voice was husky and slightly hoarse. “I knew you’d be just great.”

Kit almost didn’t hear his next words, they were spoken so softly. “We’d be just great. It will be one of life’s greatest disappointments that we won’t get to find out.”

As the length of her body pressed against his for what seemed to be an indeterminable second, Kit felt her mutinous body fully respond. Her knees undermined and weakened, she clung to him. Way too much bad wine, Kit thought, as she looked away from him, desperately trying to extinguish the fires of desire blazing in every pore.

Joshua pushed her away from him, as if somehow she had singed him too, although Kit knew that wasn’t possible. He didn’t look charred, in fact, he looked relieved. Clapping began all around them.

“Bravo. Again we part.”

“Let’s make it for good this time,” Kit murmured softly under her breath. Tense from their encounter, she was barely aware of the continued clapping as Joshua guided her to the edge of the dance floor.

As he left her, Kit rubbed her elbow and tried to erase his touch. No good. She could still feel the way her wanton skin had trembled beneath his fingertips. From across the room, Kit watched as a look of sheer satisfaction and masculine amusement crossed his face. Catching her gaze, he mockingly saluted her with his bottle of mineral water. Irritated at his insolence, Kit turned away, only to face her rabid roommates, who were now descending on her for all the details of her dance-floor encounter.

Chapter Three

The long sip of cool water that slid easily down his parched throat felt good, but it did little to quench the thirst he now felt for Kit O’Brien. Joshua mentally cursed himself. He wanted privacy, not to be plastered all over tomorrow’s tabloids as Kit O’Brien’s newest Lothario. What had possessed him to dance with her? There was simply no excuse for his impulsive behavior. He knew better than to be attracted to a woman not his type, and he had stopped acting like a dog in heat when he was a teenager.

Worse, flashbulbs had popped during their dance, and Joshua knew several tabloids had reporters on board.

Play with fire, get burned. His father would tell him he still hadn’t learned.

Rumors held that Kit O’Brien had men lined up in the wings. From her flippant attitude, something about “fish in the sea,” he knew her reputation had to be true. Damn her for doing this to him. Joshua averted his gaze away from watching Kit fend off her tablemates’ questions, and he willed himself to put her behind him. Just because he wanted her didn’t mean anything. A realist knew he couldn’t have everything he wanted, and Joshua had long ago learned to give up on wishful fantasies.

Still, his body craved how hers had pressed against his, and he shifted in discomfort. He had danced with her to erase her from his mind. Again one of his ideas backfired. He grimaced and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, and stole a look at his watch. Nine-thirty. At least another hour of this farce until he could escape without incurring Bill’s wrath.

“Marilyn!”

Joshua looked up to see Tatiana Terranova, the diva of Last Frontier, greeting a reporter with an exaggerated flourish.

“Tatiana!” Marilyn Roth from Television Today breezed over and took a vacant seat next to Joshua. “I’m sorry I’m late. You look ravishing. Is that a Viscountie?”

“Absolutely. You know how much I love his clothes. He makes a woman look so beautiful.” Tatiana’s red lips widened in a broad smile that revealed all of her teeth. For some reason Joshua had always hated Tatiana’s teeth, but he didn’t know why. Still, the woman who had just sat down filled him with more revulsion than Tatiana’s teeth ever had.

“Hello, Joshua.” Marilyn pouted. Joshua’s fist clenched and he made a show of drinking from his water bottle so he couldn’t speak. Even now it was hard for him to believe he had once found Marilyn pretty. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Marilyn had taught him that women always had ulterior motives. They either used a man or wanted to drag out the old ball and chain and head for the closest chapel.

Marilyn’s blood-red nails picked at the white tablecloth. Undaunted by Joshua’s snub she continued to speak. “You’re looking well, Joshua. But the years have always been kind to you, haven’t they? Anyway, darling, when shall we do that interview Bill promised me? I’m looking so forward to the exclusive on your next career moves.”

Joshua’s head snapped up. “Surely you’ve got to be kidding.”

He fingered his bottled water and looked for an escape. He had been young and naive when he first met her, not realizing Marilyn’s true intentions until almost too late. The woman was a walking piranha, only interested in her next scoop, and there wasn’t much she wouldn’t do to obtain it. He turned to face the woman who had given him his first glimpse at what a nightmare the press could be.

“You’re always so pleasant with me, Joshua.” Marilyn didn’t seem too perturbed at Joshua’s comment. “I’m sure once you realize—”

His lips thinned in anger. “I’m sure Tatiana will be happy to give you any information you need about Last Frontier. She’s starring in the spin-off, you know.”

“Tatiana’s not you, darling.” Marilyn drew herself up and thrust her chest forward, the front of her gown gaping a little. Joshua focused on an empty glass the next table over. “Besides, Bill promised me that you would cooperate this time. This spread is important to him. He needs it to launch the spin-off. Joshua, don’t you owe it to your creation?”

“Not really. I have nothing to do with the spin-off, and that’s the way I want it.” Joshua glanced over to where he had last seen Kit. His fingers tightened on his water bottle. He didn’t see her. Had she left? Then, as some women moved past, she came into view. Joshua let his breath out slowly. Kit was holding an animated conversation with one of her tablemates and some man also standing by the table. Joshua eyed the dance floor, seeing that the other women she’d been with were dancing, quite badly he noted, to an eighties dance mix.

Joshua inhaled sharply as Kit pushed her hair back from her face. Such a simple movement, yet all of his nerve endings tingled. He watched her face. She smiled, and his chest constricted. As she laughed at something the man said, Joshua’s gut tightened. He wasn’t sure he liked the way the guy was looking at her. But it wasn’t his problem. Kit and what she did with her life wasn’t his concern.

Yet when Kit shook her head, her strawberry-blond hair danced about her chin, and his throat went dry. Air. He could do with air.

Suddenly Kit stood up, whispered something to the man, grabbed her purse and left the table. After waiting a respectable minute the man followed.

“Joshua, are you okay, darling?” Marilyn’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion evident. “You haven’t heard a word I said.”

“I’m not your darling, Marilyn, and I never listen to what you say. Excuse me, I need to work the crowd.” Joshua stood up just in time to see Kit heading out the exit door, the man on her heels. That woman needed a keeper. Marilyn’s look of fury wasn’t lost on him, but he ignored her and strode off.

KIT THREADED HER WAY through the crowd, going past the exit that led to inside hallways. She stopped in the ladies’ room just long enough to convince the man that when she said good-night, she meant good-night. Upon leaving her hideout, she climbed the outside steps to the Compass Deck. A gentle breeze played havoc with her short hair, and Kit walked to one railing and looked down at the netted and empty pool. Tomorrow it would be full and active with people.

Still exploring, she turned and walked to the stern railing. From the heights of the highest deck she could see the ship’s foamy wake. Kit inhaled the fresh night air teasing her face. At least today wasn’t a total loss. She was at sea.

The ocean waves lapping against the shore of her parents’ Long Island house were one of her earliest and favorite memories. As the midnight-blue ocean churned playfully with the boat’s wake and created white foam, Kit reveled in the soothing peacefulness that reminded her of home. Night created a blanket of black and starry white, which was swallowed where it touched the horizon.

A childhood memory claimed her suddenly, and impulsively Kit looked up and focused on the first star her gaze landed on. “Starlight, star bright, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” She whispered the words aloud and then mentally added the rest. “I need to get my father off my back. I need a break.”

Kit sighed and slowly exhaled. Cinderella thought a dream was a wish your heart made, but Kit had learned those didn’t come true, either, despite her mother’s insistence to the contrary.

As a tear slid silently down her cheek, Kit impatiently pushed it away. “Mom? Did I really tell you someday I would marry my prince?” She whispered to herself with a sad smile. How far away those days seemed, and how ironic that being at sea made her think of her childhood and home.

Her mother had loved the elegant, gilded, aged house on Long Island more than any co-op or town house, and so her father had commuted daily to the city. Ever since her mother’s death three years ago the house had been shuttered, and Kit had been confined to the high-rises of New York City. She missed Summerset house and the Oyster Bay seashore.

And I miss you, Mom, she thought. A movement to her left made her start.

“Hey, you aren’t planning on jumping, are you? I’m afraid I have no desire to take off my boots.” The low, husky, already too-familiar voice made her shoulders tense. Broken from her reverie, Kit turned to face Joshua Parker.

A few feet to her left, he leaned against the rail with ease. In spite of herself Kit gave a short laugh.

“You aren’t wearing boots.”

“Ah, well maybe that’s why I didn’t write the screenplay to Titanic.” He smiled, and Kit’s eyes narrowed at his sudden change of attitude. “Too much icy cold water.”

“Really?” She parried easily. “I would have thought it was because you didn’t understand the notion of class. And, despite my having a very bad day, you won’t get rid of me that easily. I’ve got no desire to take a swim. A jerk like you isn’t worth drowning over.”

“Oui.” Joshua grinned and came to stand beside her. “The furious lady in the little black dress has a temper. By the way, that is a great dress. Definitely très séduisante. Anyway, I digress. I came up here to tell you I’ve been a cad, and therefore I humbly apologize.”

Kit peered up at him and couldn’t tell if he was serious. His brown eyes appeared as fathomless as the water churning beneath the boat. Although his gaze revealed nothing, when her eyes connected with his, a small chill of anticipation ran up and down her spine.

“What’s the catch? Let me guess. You saw me crying and now you’re trying to be nice. Don’t bother pitying me. I don’t believe it, and I don’t need it.”

“Ah, that one tear so angrily brushed away,” Joshua mused. “Such a noble yet sad gesture. You can admit your weaknesses to me, Kit. After flying with you, I’m discovering that perhaps you hide behind that bad attitude you wear like armor. In truth, you’re probably a very sensitive person beneath all those outrageous antics you do for charity.”

“Excuse me? Not only do you read about me, you follow me out here to psychoanalyze me?” She drew herself up to her full five-foot-eight-inch height. “Look, Freud, go find someone else to torture with your psychobabble.”

The light breeze caressed through his long, sexy hair and he clucked his tongue slightly. “Ah, good old Freud. We studied him in college, but let’s not bring him into the moonlight with us, shall we?”

Kit simply rolled her eyes in exasperation. The man was impossible. First he was pushing her away, and then he was following her and teasing her in the moonlight.

“By the way, my name is Joshua.” Joshua reached up and pushed his hair away from his face. “We never really did introduce ourselves.”

Kit wondered if it was the wind caressing her hair that sent the quiver down her spine, or if it was the deep, meaningful look that accompanied Joshua’s dare to use his name. “Look, Joshua—” Kit emphasized his name “—I’m not getting involved with you.”

“Ah, she speaks my name.” He grinned, ignoring her statement as he stepped towards her.

When his body invaded her space she made motion to step backward, out from under the force of his magnetism, but her feet stalled. Her body lodged itself against the deck rail, the steel oddly warming the bare skin of her back.

“After holding you close and realizing I liked it, I promised myself that you would dance with me again. Finally a lady that needs nothing from me, and I nothing from her. Only the pleasure of two consenting adults.” Joshua’s brown eyes glittered dangerously as he dangled the bait.

“Look, you don’t know me or why I’m here.”

“I know all I need to know.”

The breeze raised the hairs on her bare arms, causing her to shiver. The spaghetti-strap dress that had seemed appropriate earlier now was proving otherwise. Kit rubbed her biceps. “Sorry to disappoint you. My dance card’s full. Seems I have a bum foot, and one dance is all it could handle. I guess you’ll just have to get yourself another girl. I’m sure someone else will oblige, you being such a big celebrity and all.”

“But what if I don’t want anyone else?” His voice was liquid velvet, and Kit felt it caress her like a feather. “What if I want you?”

Ooh-la-la! Her body shouted. Control! Her conscience shouted. It won.

“Then I guess you have a problem, don’t you?”

“What about your problem? Shouldn’t you give in to your own wants?”

Was she that readable? “You can go to—” She paused before she spit out the unladylike curse words. “I have principles!”

“I was beginning to wonder.” A small, pleased smile teased the edges of his lips, erasing his cynical look. The result was sensual. “It’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, right. You’re changing your tune. Are pigs flying?” Kit’s voice let him know how much she believed his statement. She shivered and rubbed her arms again.

Joshua moved even closer, and Kit’s heart began to flutter. “You’ve intrigued me, Kit O’Brien. I want to dig beneath your surface and discover what makes you tick.”

“Now who’s bringing Freud into it? What gives you the right to analyze me?” The wind teased at the black chiffon hem, and she angrily pushed it down.

“Ah, you worry. Your hidden secrets wouldn’t be for public consumption. Just mine. Every single delicious and decadent thing would remain just between us.”

Kit could have sworn his brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight. At that moment she felt the strangest longing wash over her. The power Joshua Parker held over her froze her, enticed her. All he had to do was stand near her and she lost the control she was trying so hard to keep. Her heart raced, her legs weakened and her resistance melted. Desire flowed through her, sending another chill of wanton anticipation down her spine.

“Cold? Let’s get you warmed up.” Strong fingers found her upper arms and he rubbed his palms across her skin. The friction he created did more than simply warm. At his touch Kit felt an inferno burn through her. Her body acted on its own volition. Her back arched, and her knees folded as he pulled her to him. He crushed her to his warm, broad chest, and Kit’s body fused to it as if preordained to fit. He stood only four inches taller, and with her heels it was shortened to two. Her chin lifted as the last bit of her stubborn pride shattered.

“You’re a dangerous man, Joshua Parker.”

Joshua’s comeback failed him, and with a groan he lowered his mouth and claimed hers. The sensation of his touch sent a current through her, setting off bells of pleasure resounding in her head. His grip tightened, and he pulled her even deeper into his arms. His full lips seared hers, branding her.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he murmured, his mouth again descending to possess hers. Kit yielded to his delightful plunder, all conscious and rationale thought fleeing at his simple caress. He pressed his tongue against her teeth, inviting himself in, and Kit’s knees wobbled as her body ceded all resistance.

The call of his tongue caressing the roof of her mouth robbed her of any remaining sanity. With an ardor she didn’t know she possessed, Kit responded to his kiss as she had to no other. Her arms snaked around his neck and into the long, silky locks that tantalized her fingers. Her tongue ventured forth to mate and dance with his in the ritual as old as time.

Joshua’s right hand slid under her chin as he deepened their kiss, and a wanton moan escaped her as he slid his left forefinger under the spaghetti strap of her dress and playfully stroked her shoulder. Kit now understood what someone meant when she said the earth shook and the world exploded.

Fireworks detonated inside her head, and lights flashed around her as Joshua’s kiss deepened even further.

“Well, well, well. I’d say you’re certainly working on fan relations.”

The high-pitched voice shattered the beauty of the moment, and Kit pulled away, the back of her hand automatically wiping her swollen lips.

Joshua’s grip tightened on her arm, and she jerked free. One woman Kit recognized as being a cast member of Last Frontier, but the other woman discreetly slipping a digital camera into her cavernous bag caused Kit to worry. Press. Instinctively she knew it. Her father was going to kill her if that photo was published.

“You’ll pay for this, Marilyn.”

“I,” Kit began, but the words escaped her so she simply snatched her purse and walked off in the direction of the stairs.

Joshua’s fury knew no bounds as he watched Kit disappear down the outside stairs, her black scarf trailing like a kite. Neck muscles bulged as he checked his rage.

Marilyn gave Joshua a wry smile as she lit up a cigarette and handed the lighter to Tatiana. “I just needed a smoke and the sun deck is just a little too popular. I mean, it’s just out the Topsider’s doors. And, of course, you know how fans follow Tatiana everywhere.”

Marilyn exhaled slowly and deliberately as she sized up Joshua. “Besides, Bill’s been looking for you.” With absolutely no concern or fear of Joshua’s anger at her intrusion, Marilyn flipped cigarette ashes over the rail.

“I told him that last I knew you were working the room. I would say that you were working it pretty fast. Looking for a better offer? Well, she’s an easy little thing.”

Joshua refused to dignify Marilyn with an answer. Defending Kit would be unwise. Anything he said to Marilyn would be twisted to her advantage. He shoved two fists into his pants pockets and scowled as Marilyn inhaled again.

As she blew out another stream of smoke, Joshua gazed at her mouth for a moment, wondering how she could pollute it. Then again, she always polluted something. The front-page trash she’d written about Joshua under her pseudonym Mary Lynn had cost his father his dream, but Marilyn didn’t care who she hurt. She had called Joshua a simpleton, laughed at his fury and moved on to her next victim.

He glared at Marilyn and Tatiana as they blocked his path, inwardly raging at them for destroying the kiss of a lifetime. Kit’s kiss had been fresh, tantalizing. He had explored her mouth with abandon, finding the mixture of wine and honey so delicious he had lost control. Never had he tasted such sweetness.

Ire and revulsion filled Joshua, at himself for degrading Kit, and at Marilyn for having the gall to make snide comments. He watched Marilyn flip the cigarette butt over the railing despite the signs posted indicating otherwise.

“You know, I might be wrong, but there’s something really familiar about your—” Marilyn deliberately searched for a delicate word “—companion. What did you say her name was?”

Joshua’s irritation reached a crescendo. He refused to confirm Marilyn’s fishing expedition. He’d wasted enough time. He needed to find Kit.

“I don’t think she wanted to be introduced to you. She’s got class.” Joshua purposely ignored Marilyn’s next tasteless comment as he pushed past her and headed for the stairs that led down to the club. Still he had heard her comment and it burned in his ears.

“That’s all right, darling. I’m well aware of who Kit O’Brien is. You’re right, she is classy. So classy she always rates the front page. See you in the papers.”

Joshua’s eyes blazed in fury as he threw open the door to the brightly lit interior passageway. With a final curse he set off after Kit.

ONCE IN HER ROOM, Kit threw her purse down on the neatly turned-down bed and sat down with an agitated thump. The mint carefully placed by the cabin steward on her pillow went flying. What was she thinking? What had she been doing? Two black shoes hit the floor and slid under the bed as she reached up under the black dress and hooked her fingers into her pantyhose. Kit removed the silky sheers and sent them flying under the bed with a vicious kick. Standing again, Kit assessed the damage to her face in the mirror over the sink.

Her lips looked as if they had been thoroughly kissed. Wait, who was she trying to fool? They had been thoroughly kissed. Her knees still wobbled from the way his mouth felt. She gently touched her puffy lips, remembering the way his lips had pressed down, possessing her. She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling how his tongue had searched her entire mouth, claiming it for himself. Kit’s eyelids flew open, and she stared at the reflection of her eyes in the mirror. Makeup remover. She needed makeup remover. Kit turned and found her toiletries case and brought it to the sink. With almost robotic movements she began to cleanse her face.

“Kit?” Kit heard Georgia’s voice as the door to the cabin opened a crack.

“I’m in here,” Kit called, splashing cool water on her face to remove the last of the soap.

Georgia stepped into the room. “Are you okay? Everyone’s headed to the theater, and I was worried about you. You never returned. Is it your ankle? Do I need to wrap it for you?”

“I’m just really tired. I’ve had only a few hours of sleep lately, and I’ve just hit my wall.” A small, tight smile accompanied her little white lie.

Georgia nodded sagely. “I understand, sugar. Eventually the body just drops.”

“Exactly.” Kit nodded. “So don’t worry about me. I’ll be asleep when you get back. Enjoy the show and the buffet. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to go?”

“No, go and have a great time.” Kit reassured Georgia again and reached for her dental floss. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Georgia reached for the door handle. “You know, I can’t believe how good Joshua Parker looked tonight! I know you think I’m crazy to like the writer better than the actors, but, ooh, sugar, in most cases the fantasies are better than the reality, y’know? But not with Joshua Parker. The reality is definitely much better. Wouldn’t you agree? Anyway, they’re showing the two-part series finale in the theater tonight, so, if you’re sure you don’t want to go…” Georgia’s voice trailed off, her desire to leave evident. Kit gave Georgia a resigned smile.

“Good night, Georgia. I’m sure I don’t want to go. I’ll catch the shows when they finally air on TV.” Kit wrapped the floss around her fingers. As the door clicked, Kit faced herself in the mirror again. A half smile teased at her cheek. She didn’t have any fantasies where Joshua Parker was concerned. But the reality…Kit’s green eyes suddenly tormented her from the mirror.

He had ravaged her with just one kiss, a kiss she had been powerless to stop. Fireworks had exploded in her brain, sending her catapulting out of control. Wine, sea air, a starry sky, and Kit had been putty in his hands. Joshua Parker had possessed her with just a kiss. Where was her New York City aloofness and disdain? Such a foreign feeling—no one had ever evoked the level of passion that Joshua drew from Kit in one dynamic kiss. In fact, she had dumped dog food over Blaine for a lesser sin—announcing their engagement—which was why she was hiding on the cruise in the first place.

Makeup removed and teeth brushed, Kit slipped out of the black dress and dropped it into a heap on top of her bunk. Frustrated, she flipped on the television set. The ship was running Last Frontier reruns non-stop, and she sat down to watch an episode. Kit didn’t understand the premise of the show, that man had conquered dimensional space and time travel, yet man had still not bettered his primeval ways. Throw in a couple of aliens and outer planetary beings, and the whole show somehow came together into a fast-paced, special-effects wonderland that had quickly become a cult sci-fi classic.

Kit turned off the television set. All she had learned was that the drifters were a group of people who wandered through time and other dimensions doing good deeds until their lives expired, whatever that meant. She still didn’t know which actor she was interviewing, either. Kit stared around the cabin and turned on the TV again. For a moment she thought she saw Joshua in a Hitchcock-like cameo.

He was wearing black, and the color suited him, giving him the sleekness of a panther. Watching his body move for just the few seconds he was on screen only heightened her awareness of how his body had felt under her touch. With a resigned shudder Kit turned off the TV and glanced at her watch. It was just now eleven, and Kit knew that all the LaFrofans were in the theater one deck below watching the screening of the last two episodes.

Like a caged tiger Kit paced the room in her silken pajamas, too on edge to sleep. Finally she yanked off her pajamas and, with a determined fierceness, dressed in a pair of flowing black pants, a white silk top and a matching black jacket.

She was not going to hide in her cabin. She was Kit O’Brien, by God, and she had weathered much worse unsavory press than being caught kissing someone. She pushed the thought of her father’s reaction out of her head. She could deal with him later. Compared to Joshua Parker and the illicit thoughts she had of him, her father would probably be the easier of the two. With newfound determination to get Joshua Parker out of her head, Kit slipped her feet into plain black skimmers, ran a brush through her hair, grabbed her purse and headed toward the casino.

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