Page 50 of Revenge Honeymoon

“I got some cream in my eyes and couldn’t see.” What an idiot. Only Emily Small could end up in such a situation. Another chance to make a good impression on Max, and she screwed it up. Again.

Even straight out of the shower with wet hair and no makeup, Ruby looked amazing.

“Are you okay, Em?” She sashayed forward in the white cruise bathrobe with an ever-so-slightly wrinkled brow marring her sunburned face.

Emily, self-conscious about her cream-covered, crumb-sprinkled self while her cruise crush stood within an arm’s length, said, “I’m okay. Did the shower help with the burn?”

It was as if Max only just noticed the condition of their skin. “Ouch. That looks painful.”

Ruby winced as she adjusted the belt of her robe. “Be happy you aren’t a victim, too.”

“I’d rather have spent the afternoon with the two of you, trust me.” He leaned against the small dresser near the bed.

They all stood quietly for a moment. A long, weird moment. Ruby in a bathrobe, Emily ensconced in a comforter, and Max nodding and saying nothing.

Awkward.

“Um, so, Max,” began Ruby, yanking the edges of her robe a little bit closer together. “Why did you stop by?”

He opened his mouth, glanced at both of them, and spoke. “Right. Why am I here? That is a very good question.” His beautiful face tinted pink, and he cleared his throat several times.

Why was it hard to believe such an attractive man could ever be embarrassed? He could quote lines from Star Wars or bring out the finger guns for a second shootout, and he’d still come across as hot, hot, hot.

To Emily anyway.

Ruby had wrinkled up her nose and quirked her lips. Somehow to her, Max was—judging by the look—kind of a weirdo.

Max noticed and stumbled over his words. “I, uh, took some pictures today on the pool deck, like I was telling Emily.”

“The cruise director, that Sylvia person,madehim do it, Rubes.” Emily slung the edge of the comforter over one shoulder like a toga and closed the distance between her and her best friend. “That’s why he couldn’t meet us.”

Ruby scanned red-faced Max up and down. “Well, that wasn’t nice of her. You’re supposed to be a guest some of the time and not her slave.”

“Right?” Emily replied.

Max rubbed his palms together. “Yes, right. I didn’t feel I had much choice. I admit, I didn’t read the contract my friend forwarded me. So it’s probably in the details somewhere.”

“They always get you in the fine print.” Emily punched the air for emphasis. “Bastards.”

“Anyway, the reason I stopped by is that I’m hoping you’ll sign a model release form.” Max pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.

Ruby?

Ruby.

Of course Ruby.

Hadn’t Emily always assumed someday her friend would be recruited to walk the runways of Milan, Paris, or New York? Some model scout tramping through the Valley View Mall, between the JC Penney and the Victoria’s Secret, would spy beautiful Ruby in her low-rise jeans and kitty cat tank top and whisk her away on some grand fashion career. It was inevitable. Even at twenty-nine Ruby had something special.

“Model form?” Ruby blinked rapidly. “I don’t understand.”

“Your picture. I have one of you. On the pool deck.”

Emily’s face heated.

Wait. Max had spied on them at the pool. Had he seen her in her bikini?

Oh, God.

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