Page 18 of As You Crave It

“I’m sure someone would have if they weren’t all trying to clean up glass,” Quin pointed out. When Jared glared at him, Quin was about to say something else, but one of the stewards came and handed him a glass.

“You came alone, Rexford? I said you should bring a girl. This yacht’s a real pussy magnet. You would have had some guaranteed action.”

Quin thought about the invite he’d given to Celia. There was no one else he would have invited, but he realized he wouldn’t want her anywhere in the company of Jared Foster. “Well, you know, down here in St. Martin I figure I’d be able to find plenty of action.”

“That’s my guy!” Jared laughed, and the sound was loud and crass. Then he slapped Quin hard on the back in a classic move to assert his dominance. But Quin didn’t move under the force of the blow and sent Jared a look that said he wouldn’t be intimidated. If that put the deal in jeopardy, then so be it. He still had his dignity and self-respect. He wouldn’t put that on the line for any distribution deal.

He and Jared connected eyes for a moment before Jared looked away, again turning his attention to the stewards. “Girls, give Mr. Rexford a tour. Quin, go get freshened up. We’ll have dinner.”

Quin nodded and looked at the women. He wondered how they could possibly work for a man who barked at them, demeaned them. “Lead the way, ladies.”

The women led him through the boat. He knew Jared had told them to guide him around to show off his boat. Even though he knew Jared was an asshole—that hadn’t been a surprise—Quin was thoroughly impressed with the mega-yacht. He caught sight of the bar and pictured the entire fleet of Seacoast Prestige’s yachts—not to mention their private jets and everything else they owned—stocking Rexford Rum.

Another champagne flute was placed in his hand and they walked up a spiral staircase to the top of the boat. “This is the sundeck,” the chief steward told him. She pointed to the hot tub, another bar and the padded area for hanging out and sunbathing.

“This is incredible,” Quin said. Again, his thoughts turned to Celia. He’d asked her to join him on a whim. And he could almost picture her lying on the sundeck in a minuscule bikini, her dark hair spread over the cushion. In his fantasy, Celia rolled over onto her front, and he was treated to a view of her round ass, her bikini bottom disappearing between her cheeks.

Consumed by his thoughts, Quin was barely paying attention when the crew finished the tour by leading him to his quarters. “The crew quarters are just down these stairs,” the steward went on. “So if you need anything, just let us know and we’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you. Everything looks fantastic.”

He went inside and saw that his bag had already been neatly unpacked. His clothes were hanging in the closet, his toiletries were in the bathroom and his laptop was sitting on top of the desk. It was one hell of a way to spend three days—aboard a luxurious yacht, his every need catered to. Even if he was going to be spending the time with someone like Jared Foster. He looked at the king-size bed. If only he had a little company. Immediately, he again thought of Celia. So much for being only friends. Especially since all he could think about was seeing her naked again. He thought he’d scratched the itch, but the sting remained, and there was no doubt that he wanted her again. Just being friends would be harder than he realized.

He had to focus on the business. This whole deal with Seacoast Prestige was his chance to be more like his older brother. To think like Reid, act like Reid, be Reid. WWRD? What would Reid do? Hell, the world must be ending. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed his brother’s number. It rang a couple of times before Reid answered.

“Hey, Quin,” Reid said, sounding relaxed. “How’s it going in Paradise?”

“Oh, man,” Quin said, shaking his head. “It might have been easier to smooth over the guy whose wife I slept with.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I’ve been here for thirty minutes so far and I already hate the guy. I’ve been around assholes before, but I’m not sure how I’ll last three days on this boat.”

“I’ve heard about Jared Foster, but you’re doing a good job, Quin. Having our rum on those boats would be priceless, right?”

“Yeah, I get it. I just want to get this done without having to talk to the guy any more than I have to.”

“I’m glad it’s you down there. You’re the best one to spend three days partying on a yacht in the Caribbean.”

“You mean I’m the one who screwed up the most.”

There was a pause on Reid’s end. “Quin, you know we don’t hold that against you, right?”

“Sure,” he said, not convinced.

“Listen, I was mad at the time, but shit happens, you know? In the grand scheme of things, it’s not a big deal.”

Quin nodded but said nothing. Reid had said that before, but Quin knew how his brother had really felt. He’d called it “another event in the long line of Quin Rexford fuckups.” The words had been spoken in anger, and even though Reid had told him later he hadn’t meant it, Quin couldn’t help but think there must be some truth behind them. He had to admit he was a bit of a fuckup. Also, having thought about it, Reid was right. Quin was probably the better of them to schmooze Jared Foster. He’d dealt with high-maintenance clients before, and he’d do it again. He was the face, the charismatic one. He just had to put aside his distaste for the man, and to make a deal that would be good for the business. The mainstream success they enjoyed had come as a surprise, but Reid insisted that they remain a luxury brand. Being offered on Seacoast Prestige’s fleet would do that. Quin would make it happen for his siblings.

“All right. I’m going to go get ready for dinner. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Have fun—but not too much fun.” Reid’s voice held an edge of warning. Quin knew his brother trusted him, but he had something to prove. He would remain on his best behavior for the entire trip.

“Don’t worry about any of that, Reid. I know how important this is. This won’t exactly be fun for me.”

“If you can’t have fun on a multimillion-dollar yacht, you’re not the brother I know and love. Whether or not you hate the guy, just try to think of this as a vacation. Hit a beach, find a sexy woman.”

“Who is this?” Quin asked, pulling the phone away from his face. “Are you, Reid Rexford, telling me, Quin, your brother, to blow off work to go screw around on a beach with a strange woman?” Reid laughed, and Quin knew that before his brother had met his live-in girlfriend, he would not have told Quin to forget about work. Hell, he probably would have come along just to supervise. “Lila is such a bad influence on you.”

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