After the Sea Sprite Ball by Rayne Forrest

A romance set in the very near future.

Eve Archer checks in for her dream vacation at the new undersea resort, The City of Amphitrite. Unfortunately, her luggage went to the Catskills. To make amends, the concierge upgrades her package to a suite in the Tower of Triton, the poshest accommodations at the resort. As a Triton guest, Eve receives an invitation to attend the nightly costume ball in the Palace of Poseidon. And since the resort transportation lost her luggage, she is offered her choice of gowns, free of charge. It will make her job a lot easier.

Actor and supermodel Alex Gerard needs a break, and the Triton package offered by the City of Amphitrite resort is just the thing for him to get a little privacy and rest. He’s been working non-stop for three years, and while he doesn’t mind suffering for his craft, enough is enough. For the next two weeks, his meals, massages, and the company of other celebrity guests can all be brought to his suite.

Alex can’t believe the woman who literally ran into him in the hall has no idea who he is – and he doesn’t enlighten her. It’s refreshing to have a woman not care about the opportunities being on his arm will provide. Intrigued, he follows her and discovers she’s been sent to spy on the resort, an activity that could get them both detained. It’s obvious, at least to him, that the best way to keep her out of mischief is to get her into his room – and his bed. 


Eve. Nice name. He had to admit she was a pretty little thing. Not beautiful, no, or even what might be called cute. She was pretty. Curly black hair swept her shoulders. Wispy bangs obscured her arched eyebrows, but he’d seen them. They were as black as her hair, and she didn’t wax them down to where she had to paint them back on. He liked that natural look, and her womanly curves. He’d had his fill of pencil-thin model-types. Eve’s round bottom would fit right into a man’s hands.

He shouldn’t think about that. She seemed to be the kind who would pummel him to a pulp if she even suspected him of looking her over like this. Alex ducked behind a potted tree.

Damn! She’d seen him. Was she telepathic or something?

Whew. He was safe. Eve had glanced this way, but she obviously hadn’t noticed him. Well, he could skulk in the plantings, or he could act like a man. He stepped from behind the foliage and joined the flow of walkers, angling his way over to her. Alex stopped in the doorway.

“Red looks really good on you.”

Eve turned, then jumped, her eyes narrowing. “What do you want? You are stalking me! I’m calling security.”

Alex grinned. “I’m shopping for something special. Can I help it you’re here?”

“You’re insufferable.”

She had brown eyes, so dark they looked black, and long, blond-tipped eyelashes. Alex grabbed the hanger and held up the red dress.

“You should get this. It really is your color. Trust me, ‘cause I know about what looks good on a woman.”

“You egotistical ass!” Eve yanked the hanger out of his hand and stomped towards the back of the store, yelling over her shoulder at him. “Go away!”

Alex hastened to follow her. “Have dinner with me, Eve.”

She whirled around, her gaze angry above her pursed lips. “How did you find out my name?”

He stopped a safe distance from her. “Well, I suppose I did the obvious, babe. I asked.”

Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. “Babe? Babe?”

Alex backed up a step. “You don’t like ‘babe’? Okay. How’s ‘honey’ work?”

Eve let out an angry growl. Her head lowered as she took a menacing step in his direction. “First, you’re totally rude to me in the hallway, even when I tried to apologize. Then you follow me here – and don’t try to deny it. I know you did. Then I find out you’ve asked about me. Just who do you think you are?”

He held his hand out to her. “I’m…”

Oh, hell. He almost blurted out his professional name, Gerry Alexander, from the force of habit when he was out in public. She’d get that look that all the women did, and start stammering and stuttering, and then blather on about how she loved his last movie or some photo in an ad, please God not the one where he was naked in the shower with just a ball cap to cover the goods.

Was it so wrong to want to be appreciated for himself, and not his looks or his star quality?

If he wanted to have a little vacation fling with her - and he suddenly did, if she was willing to walk away and not look back - shouldn’t he tell her his real name? Surely, he could make any necessary confessions later, couldn’t he? Would one little vacation deception be all that bad? He didn’t think so.

“I’m Alex. Alex Gerard. Pleased to meet you. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight, Eve?”

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