LITMIR.BIZ

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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

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