Chapter 13 Nina
NINA
Iknelt down in front of Noah to straighten his collar.
“You look very handsome,” I whispered to him. “Don’t worry, this silly meeting is going to be very quick. All we have to do is smile. That’s easy, right?”
Logan had accidentally gone a little too hard in talking up how important the post-voyage press conference was going to be, and Noah was nervous.
Of course, Logan didn’t state outright that the world was going to be scrutinizing our surprise relationship, but I got the subtext.
Unfortunately, all Noah heard was that there were going to be lots of people and cameras waiting for us when we docked in port.
He’d experienced a ton of positive changes during the voyage, but I could tell that the post-vacation hangover was right around the corner. I hoped it wouldn’t rear its ugly head until after the cameras were turned off.
Once the guests had all disembarked, we would make our grand exit as a picture-perfect family.
I’d borrowed a pretty tangerine sundress from Ashley that was a little shorter than I would’ve liked, and Noah was decked out in an adorable little blazer and golf shirt, a mini version of his bossman father.
Logan defied description, as usual. The handsomeness was almost ridiculous. I was happy I had the pretense of our fake relationship to cover for the fact that I couldn’t stop staring at him.
At least it seemed sort of mutual. The way he’d looked me up and down when we met up felt like an invitation. Of course, I knew better—but still. The man didn’t hide his appreciation of my body.
Logan strode back into the waiting room and clapped his hands to amp us up. “Are we ready, people?”
“Hey, Noah, are we ready?” I asked him playfully, poking him in the belly.
He nodded silently and reached for my hand, looking like he was headed for the dentist.
Uh-oh. Not the “happy, well-adjusted new family” vibe Logan was hoping to project.
I’d need to be Noah’s moat, providing a buffer between him and the journalists. Logan would be rightfully focused on fielding all of the questions, leaving me to worry about Noah’s state of mind.
Based on how pale he looked, it was going to be a tall order.
“Logan, have we, uh, ever experienced this sort of meeting before?” I hoped that he could understand that I was speaking in code. I did an exaggerated glance at Noah. “S-c-r-u-t-i-n-y by the p-r-e-s-s?”
As he picked up on what I meant, his face went pinched. “Yeah, now that you mention it, we have in a way. At an a-i-r-p-o-r-t, after the stuff with my brother Harrison. There was, uh, an attempt to get a statement from me while we were doing a v-i-s-i-t-a-t-i-o-n swap. A very persistent attempt.”
Got it. So, Noah had been hounded by the press at his father’s side, which explained why he seemed to have a not-at-all-positive understanding about what we were about to go through.
“Understood.”
I was going to have to work extra hard to keep Noah from retreating into the lost boy he’d been at the beginning of the voyage.
We’d made so much progress, but it was during the high adventure of vacation.
I think he could sense that the fun was speeding to an end, and he was going back to the real world.
A staffer peeked in to let us know they were ready for us, which meant I needed to step into my role as temporary court jester. I made up silly songs as we headed for the press area on the sunny dock and managed to coax a couple of smiles out of Noah.
I gulped when I saw how many reporters were waiting, and Noah slowed down.
“All good,” I sing-songed to him. “Just a couple of silly pictures, then we’re done!”
I think we both knew it was a lie.
We took our position in front of the Ashford-branded step-and-repeat as Logan stepped up to the podium.
“Welcome everyone,” he boomed into the mic. “What a voyage that was!”
The crowd cheered, and he launched into the rest of the opening remarks. I kept my eyes on Noah. Thankfully, he relaxed once he figured out that I’d been telling the truth, and all we had to do was smile.
Until it came time for Q he was my husband. At least that’s what the world had to believe. I glanced down at the gold band on my finger. When I’d said yes to working with Noah, I’d never anticipated how things would spiral out of control.
I’d been zoning out when Logan turned back to me and held out his hand, beckoning me to join him at the podium. I plastered a smile on my face and gave Noah’s hand a little squeeze.
“Almost done,” I said quietly as we joined Logan.
Noah wiggled out of my grip so he could hide between the two of us while we addressed the press as a united front.
“Thank you for being here,” Logan was saying to the audience. “This was a special voyage, for a bunch of reasons.”
He turned to me and gave me a hopeful smile, and I realized we’d somehow developed a secret nonverbal language. I could tell that he was looking for some sort of physical affection, a photo op closing moment to the presser, but he was leaving it up to me.
I mean, super bad idea, Mr. Ashford, because all I want to do is jump your bones twenty-four seven. But I understood that the press would eat up anything we gave them. I bumped closer to him, resting the side of my body against his. Logan squeezed my waist and raised an eyebrow at me.
May I?
My tiny nod signaled yes. Please.
And don’t stop.
His eyes scanned my face for a moment, then he leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine.
In that instant, I remembered every second of our magical drunken wedding night.
The kiss unlocked the memories that were probably being repressed to keep me from turning into a sex-starved lunatic.
I could feel Logan’s hands all over my body and remember how easy it was for him to pull me over the edge. How many orgasms had I had?
It was a totally inappropriate reaction I was powerless to resist. I forgot that we were in front of an audience recording every second of our make-out session and focused on what the man was doing to me.
The kiss lasted a second or two longer than it should’ve.
I wasn’t going to be the first one to pull away, especially since I wasn’t sure it was ever going to happen again.
At the very least, there’d be photographic evidence of the heat between us.
Someday, when I was old and gray, I could look back on the pictures from the press conference and remember how I’d nearly burned down the dock with my billionaire temporary husband.
We finally pulled apart to wild applause.
Logan raised a hand to wave at the crowd. “Thanks again, everyone! Can’t wait to see you on Ashford Cruise Lines!”
The three of us walked to the waiting black-windowed SUV. Noah scrambled into it like he was being chased by zombies.
“Let’s get the hell out of here and go home,” Logan muttered.
Home.
What exactly was that?