| Ending One | Ending Two | Ending Three |
"I do declare, Alfred, we're on the Love Boat!" Dixie Merriweather, now officially Mrs. Alfred Willis, took inventory of the linen-draped tables for eight, the sparkling table settings and the passengers in evening dress gathering in the main dining room of the cruise ship Beyond.
"I trust that meets with your approval, my love." Alfred kept a light but possessive hand on her elbow as the head waiter directed them to their table.
"You bet it meets with my approval, sugar. I never missed that show." Dixie glanced up at her new husband, silver-haired and endearingly British. Quite a catch for an old broad of fifty-six, although she had to admit she was looking mighty fine these days herself. This lighter shade of blonde suited her, and she'd managed to lose a few pounds before the wedding.
Two young people were already seated at their table when Alfred and Dixie arrived. They seemed so delighted with each other's company that Dixie wondered if they were newlyweds, too.
Near Valentine's Day, you would expect that on a Caribbean cruise. They made a striking couple with his Latino good looks and her fair hair and skin, although Dixie could give the woman a few pointers on hair and makeup. She wasn't making the most of her assets.
Dixie smiled at them across the table as Alfred held her chair. "We're Dixie and Alfred Willis, from Chicago," she said.
The blond woman returned her smile. "I'll bet you weren't born there, though."
"Are you referring to this little ol' accent? No, I picked that up south of the Mason-Dixon line. Where are y'all from?"
"I'm from St. Louis," the blonde said. "Jake's from Denver."
"Oh!" Dixie's matchmaking instincts kicked in. "I thought for sure you knew each other."
"We've known each other since we were five," Jake said. "And we —" He paused to glance at his dinner partner. "Samantha, you explain."
Samantha grinned at him. "Chicken." Then she turned to Dixie and Alfred. "The truth is, we're both spouse-hunting on this cruise."
"We're here for the vacation, too." Jake looked uncomfortable with the spouse-hunter label. "I mean, if it happens, it happens, but if not, we both got out of the cold weather for a week."
"True," Samantha said. "But this is really about the deal we made." She glanced at Dixie and Alfred. "We promised that if neither of us was married by age thirty, we'd book a cruise and do some serious looking."
"What a novel idea," Alfred murmured, just as another couple, obviously in the middle of an argument, approached the table.
"I'm not the least bit hungry, Jack." The woman tucked her dark hair behind her ears. "In fact, I think maybe I'll go back —"
"Bad idea, Mackenzie," Jack muttered under his breath. He pulled out a chair for her next to Alfred and held it, as if daring her to leave the table.
Dixie thought Mackenzie could use a good meal. She was tall and so slender that a good wind would blow her right off the deck. Dixie decided to encourage her to stay. "I hear the food on this cruise is fabulous," she said.
"Now that's a fact," their red-haired waiter circled the table, filling water glasses. "My name is Ski, and I'll be in charge of serving you many gastronomic delights on this cruise." He swept a bow in Mackenzie's direction. "Prepare to be delighted, madam."
Mackenzie didn't crack a smile. "I'm sure the food is wonderful." She shot a look at Jack. "Unfortunately, I don't have an appetite right now." She fiddled with her wedding ring.
"Might as well eat, Mackenzie." Jack, a sandy-haired, all-American type, tapped the back of the chair impatiently.
"Well...all right." Mackenzie sighed as she took the chair Jack offered. Then she glanced around the table. "Please excuse us. I'm Mackenzie, uh, Berber, and this is my husband, Jack."
She doesn't even like having his name, Dixie thought as she quickly made the introductions for herself, Alfred, Samantha and Jake. All the while she wondered what had brought these two to the altar. With his height and athletic build, he might be the kind of guy who liked protecting delicate women like Mackenzie. Maybe she liked being protected. But whatever the attraction, they weren't thinking about that tonight.
Dixie smiled at the waiter to let him know his good cheer was appreciated. She was relieved for the distraction as the last couple hurried in and grabbed the two remaining chairs, the man sitting next to her and the woman beside Jake.
"Sorry we're late." The guy addressed the table in general. "Leanne had to coach me on what to wear to this shindig."
"You're a fine coach, Leanne." Dixie cast an approving eye over the man's suede dinner jacket, which complimented the tall, rugged look he had going on. Nice shoulders on that one.
Leanne was a brunette with the kind of understated attractiveness that Dixie sensed could become stunning under the right circumstances, like being in love. Whatever the relationship here, Dixie didn't think it involved love.
About that time the ship's female photographer showed up on the other side of the table from the new arrivals. "Mr. and Mrs. Whittaker, give us that winning smile!"
So they were married, Dixie thought with some surprise as Leanne and her hubby leaned awkwardly together, flinching when the camera flashed.
"Great!" said the photographer. "Later on we'll get some of you beside the rail in the moonlight and maybe one of you kissing, okay? I'll let you know when. Leanne, still have your pager?"
"Right here." Leanne, blinking from the flash, pulled the pager out of her small evening bag.
"Great! See you later."
After the photographer left, Dixie glanced at their new dinner companions. "What's with the candid camera? Are you two celebrities?"
"I won the cruise for...our honeymoon," Leanne said. "At the time, I didn't think about all the publicity shots they'd need to take."
"Congratulations, though," Samantha said. "On winning the cruise, and your marriage. So we have two newlywed couples at this table. You two and Dixie and Alfred."
"We're newlyweds, too," Mackenzie said abruptly.
Dixie's eyebrows lifted, but she managed to add her congratulations to everyone else's. She didn't have much hope for that union.
"Wonderful," Samantha said, beaming. "How about each of you telling us how you met?"
Leanne looked startled. "Oh, let someone else go first. I'm no good at telling stories."
Dixie glanced fondly at Alfred. "I'll be glad to start. Alfred and I work together at a new shop in downtown Chicago called The Red Doors. We have three boutiques upstairs selling fragrance, jewelry and lingerie, and a coffee shop downstairs. Alfred runs the coffee shop and I help manage the boutiques."
Alfred covered her hand with his. "And they couldn't survive without you."
"Why, thank you for saying so." Dixie felt like adding that she couldn't survive without him, but she knew he'd be embarrassed, so she didn't. "Anyway, Alfred started sending me secret admirer notes, and eventually this locket arrived." She automatically put a hand to her chest. Then she looked down in amazement. "Alfred, did I forget to put on my locket? I never forget it."
Alfred cleared his throat. "Perhaps you forgot this time, my love."
Dixie noticed Alfred's pink cheeks and remembered what they'd been doing right before dinner and why she might have forgotten the locket. "I'm going to the cabin to get it. The story's not complete unless I can show everyone the locket you gave me."
Alfred pushed back his chair. "I'd be delighted to get it for you."
"No." She got up and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know exactly where I left it. I can find it much quicker than you. Let me go."
Alfred touched her hand. "As you wish."
Hurrying out of the dining room, Dixie took an elevator to the Paradise Deck. She reached their cabin in no time, unlocked the door and glanced at the rumpled bed. Yes, she easily could have forgotten her lovely gold locket. She walked over to the small dresser where she'd left the velvet box after unpacking it.
The box was empty. Heart pounding, she searched the room, but she didn't expect to find the locket. She wouldn't have taken it out of the box without putting it on.
If she made the trip to the cabin in record time, she made the return trip to the dining room even faster. She was breathing hard by the time she reached the dinner table.
Alfred came to his feet, his brow creased in concern. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm afraid so." She clutched his arm and battled panic. "Someone has stolen my locket."
Samantha Burns was taking this Caribbean cruise to find a husband. But judging by the evidence at hand, getting hitched had some drawbacks. Of the three newlywed couples sitting at the dinner table with her and her buddy Jake Rivera, only one seemed happy.
Maybe you had to be senior citizens to get it right, like Dixie and Alfred. They definitely loved each other. Their only problem was Dixie's stolen locket. But as for the others — Mackenzie and Jack couldn't do anything but fight, while Leanne and Mike showed zero affection for each other. Samantha wouldn't trade places with them for all the bridal gowns in St. Louis.
Before she and Jake left the dining room at the end of the meal, she made a point to go over and hug Dixie. "I hope your locket turns up."
"Me, too. Alfred's gone to report it to Captain Frazier, who happens to be a friend of his."
"Excellent! They'll probably turn the ship upside down looking for it."
"I surely do hope so. It's more the sentimental loss than the money it's worth, although it was a good locket."
"I know exactly what you mean." Samantha held up her silver charm bracelet. "I would die if I lost this. My whole life is on here."
Dixie's eyes lit up. "That's precious! I love charm bracelets. Who gave it to you?"
"Jake." Samantha glanced over her shoulder to where he was talking with Mike and Leanne Whittaker. "An eighth-grade graduation present. My first charm was this diploma, and he's added to it over the years."
"I should say so." Dixie examined the bracelet. "Look at this sweet ballerina. Her arms move!"
"I was in ballet for years. That was for the Christmas we did The Nutcracker."
"And what a darling tennis racket! Is that a diamond in the handle?"
Samantha laughed. "I'm sure it's fake. Jake found that at a garage sale after the day I beat him in singles. He wouldn't have paid for a diamond."
Dixie looked over at Jake. "He's very cute. Are you sure that you two aren't —"
"Jake?" Samantha smiled as she watched him in animated conversation, using his hands to describe something, probably his latest architectural project. "We're just good friends."
"Honey, why in God's name are you letting that hottie get away?"
Samantha's gaze swung back to Dixie, and for a moment she was speechless. The idea of a romantic attachment to Jake took time to process. "We…um, just never...well, he was always shorter than me," she confessed at last. It sounded superficial now, but it was the main reason they'd never dated. "I dated taller guys, and he dated shorter girls."
"How much shorter is he?"
"Now? About an inch, I think. I'm five-nine, and he's five-eight."
Dixie's eyes sparkled, and she leaned closer. "That wouldn't make a bit of difference in bed, sugar."
Samantha blushed, not because she'd never thought of such a thing, but because she had thought of it less than two hours ago. She and Jake were sharing a cabin to cut costs, and the strangest thing had happened when they'd dressed for dinner. She'd imagined making love to Jake on one of the twin beds.
"I'm sorry to have embarrassed you," Dixie said, "but I couldn't help saying something. You two get along a hell of a lot better than our newlyweds."
"Well, there you go. What if we tried going beyond friendship and it was a disaster? We've been friends for twenty-five years. I don't want to risk losing that."
"I understand. But think of the risk my Alfred took. We see each other constantly at the store, and we each love our jobs. What if his campaign hadn't worked out? Can you imagine the agonies that reserved man must have gone through, wondering if he'd end up looking like a fool?"
Samantha had to admit that the concept of such a dignified person putting himself out there boggled her mind. But Dixie and Alfred's situation was different. They didn't have years of memories or established patterns to overcome. "We're in the habit of thinking of each other like brother and sister," she said.
"Seems to me a cruise is the perfect place to change old habits," Dixie said with a wink. "Now here comes Alfred. I don't know about you, but I intend to kick up my heels tonight."
"Oh, me, too." She was supposed to start hunting for eligible guys, and none of her dinner companions qualified. Except Jake.
"Think about what I've said." With a wave, Dixie went to join her husband.
Samantha didn't want to think about it. The idea made her tummy churn. Instead, she looked over at Jake to see if he was ready to go, but then realized waiting for him was silly. They'd already agreed not to pal around together for fear of driving away potential dates.
She signaled to him that she was leaving. Although he'd seemed to be totally engrossed in the conversation with the Whittakers, he picked up her signal immediately. They'd always been in tune like that. He held up his hand to ask her to wait.
After excusing himself from the Whittakers, he hurried toward her. "So what are you up to?" he asked as they walked out of the dining room together.
"I thought I'd go into one of the lounges, maybe do some dancing." Until now, she hadn't thought about this moment, when she'd head out by herself to manhunt. Maybe she'd hoped there would be another single woman or two at the dinner table.
He walked with her to the elevators and held the door for her. "Which one?"
"Maybe the Sea Breeze."
He stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the Boulevard Deck. "Okay, then I'll take Neptune's Grotto."
"Oh." She hadn't considered the logistics of this plan. "I don't know that we have to stay away from the area where the other person is —"
Jake laughed. "Are you kidding? You think I want you across the room smirking while I'm trying to put the moves on some woman? It was bad enough in high school, with you pulling me aside to offer tips."
"Hey, I wouldn't do that now!" But she didn't want to watch him putting the moves on some woman, either. Because they'd both left town after high school, she'd been able to erase all images of Jake involved with other women. She wanted to keep it that way. "But I think you're right about separating."
As the elevator stopped, they got out and headed in different directions.
"Then I'll see you later," Jake said. "And good luck."
"Same to you." With a brave smile she hurried off to find herself a man
* * *
Two hours later, Jake was sick of umbrella drinks and even sicker of trying to make conversation with women he didn't care about. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea? He'd never been good at cruising for chicks. Banter wasn't his style, and you couldn't get to know someone while music blasted in your ears. He missed Sam.
Maybe he'd just sneak into the Sea Breeze and see what was going on with her. If she was involved with someone, he'd sneak out again without her even knowing he'd been there. He didn't want to cramp her style. He left the eerie blue light of Neptune's Grotto for the pulsing lasers of the Sea Breeze.
Because he'd always been able to pick Sam out in a crowd, he saw her immediately, alone on a bar stool, sipping her drink and trying to look interested in the dancers gyrating on the floor. His heart squeezed. What was wrong with the idiots in this place? Sam was obviously the only quality woman in the room.
He couldn't stand it. Walking over to the bar, he touched her on the shoulder. "Hey, gorgeous, how about a dance?"
She pivoted on the bar stool. "You're not supposed to be here."
"I know." He pulled her to her feet. "Let's dance."
"We're not supposed to act like a couple."
"So we won't." The music had switched to a slow tune by the time they arrived on the floor. He drew her into his arms, but not too close.
"Oh, Jake, I'm a washout at this sort of thing."
He brought her in a little closer. Nobody could dance like Sam. "Me, too."
"I don't believe that. I'll bet you had women falling all over you."
"You notice I'm still alone," he said.
"So you rejected them. But I didn't even attract any to reject!"
He nestled her against him, for comfort. "It's okay. It's just the first night."
"We're only on this cruise for a week, though." She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "That means only six nights left."
Dancing with Sam, her head resting on his shoulder, he felt the best he had all evening. They'd always moved well together. Come to think of it, they'd probably move well together in bed. Whoa, Nellie! This was Sam. He didn't think those thoughts about Sam.
Her head came up, and he wondered if she'd somehow read his mind. He hoped not. He'd be very embarrassed if she had.
"I know what I'll do!" She looked into his eyes.
He had the strongest urge to kiss her. Boy, was he having weird thoughts tonight. "What?"
"I'm changing myself. First thing tomorrow, I'm getting a makeover in the ship's beauty salon. Then I'm buying new, sexier clothes in the boutique. By noon, I will be the hottest babe on this ship!"
Jake was appalled by the idea of Sam getting a total makeover. They argued about it in the Sea Breeze lounge, and they continued to argue while walking from the lounge back to their cabin.
On the way, they passed a white-haired old woman laboriously making her way down the corridor using a walker. She'd complemented her elegant red pantsuit with a pair of Nike runners. "Good evening," she said with a smile.
"Good evening," Jake and Sam said together.
"I'm celebrating my one-hundredth birthday tomorrow."
"That's wonderful," Sam said.
"Congratulations," Jake added. She seemed remarkably well preserved for that age. "And happy birthday."
"It will be, I'm sure," the woman said. "Have a good night, now. And don't waste it arguing. Life's too short."
Maybe so, Jake thought, but he had a mission to keep Sam from doing this ridiculous thing. So in spite of the old woman's warning, they continued to argue after they got back to the cabin and while they took turns in the tiny bathroom getting ready for bed.
"You're wonderful the way you are!" he insisted as they each crawled into their twin beds set at right angles to each other. "Your hair is great, you don't guck on a lot of makeup, and your clothes are fine."
"I have no pizzazz." She turned off the light.
"Yes, you do!"
"Oh, shut up, Jake. You don't know what you're talking about." With that, she pulled the covers over her head.
"I do so," he murmured. But Sam didn't answer him, so he was left to lie there in the dark while the ship rocked gently, plowing through the warm waters of the Caribbean on its way down to Cozumel. One more day and night at sea, and they'd dock in Mexico.
Maybe it was the slight rocking of his bed, or maybe it was the subtle vibration of the ship's engines, or maybe it was the cute tank top and boxer set Sam had put on to sleep in. Whatever the reason, as Jake lay there listening to Sam breathe, he developed a woody.
Damn. Talk about inconvenient. It couldn't be Sam affecting him this way, could it? Surely not. But he definitely had this growing problem.
Taking a cold shower was out, so he'd have to think his erection away. On the off chance that Sam was his problem, he spent the next fifteen minutes conjuring up unsexy memories of her — Sam with grape popsicle stain on her tongue, Sam as Godzilla for Halloween, Sam hacking and coughing with the flu.
Eventually, he managed to fall asleep. In the morning he'd talk her out of this makeover scheme. He was having enough trouble when she was her normal self. If she upped the ante, he could have serious problems.
* * *
When he woke up, Sam was already gone. He'd overslept, but he still might have a chance to stop her. Soon he was shaved, showered, dressed and out the door. He prowled around the ship but saw no sign of Sam.
Someone who could have been her was in the beauty salon, her body covered with a pink cape and her head out of sight in a shampoo bowl. Jake wasn't about to venture into the beauty salon and drag her out. With a sigh of resignation, he headed to the gift shop to buy Sam's souvenir.
Goldman's Gifts was spelled out in script above the door. A dark-haired guy whose name tag labeled him as Doug greeted him with a broad smile. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"Um, yeah." That was yet to be seen, depending on how Sam transformed herself. It could be the worst day of his life.
"Days like this make me glad to be alive. Now what can I do to be of service?"
Turn down the cheerfulness volume, for starters. "Do you have charms, like for charm bracelets?"
"Why, certainly." Doug moved behind a glass counter filled with jewelry items. "We have some exquisite platinum charms."
"Right." Jake had come prepared to buy an expensive charm this time out. He quickly found what he wanted, a tiny cruise ship. "That one."
"A popular choice." Doug retrieved it from the case. "Do you have the bracelet with you?"
"No."
"If you want it attached, bring it in anytime. I keep very generous hours." After giving Jake the total, Doug nestled the charm on a bed of cotton inside a small box.
Jake pulled out his wallet. "You own the shop?"
"Yes. I'm Doug Goldman. I lease this space from the cruise line." He slipped the box into a small plastic bag and handed it to Jake. "Better keep an eye on the bracelet. The ship has a teensy problem with theft at the moment."
"You mean the locket?" Jake pocketed the change. He figured the word of Dixie's loss would have spread all over the ship by now.
"I'm afraid that's not all. More jewelry is missing." Doug lowered his voice. "I have a theory. All the thefts happened during dinner, and the waitstaff would know who was not in their cabins. Those people aren't paid very well, and I think one or more of them decided to supplement their income."
Jake wondered why Doug was casting suspicion on members of the crew, but then, Doug wasn't a cruise line employee. "I just hope the robber gets caught soon. Dixie Willis was very upset."
"I'm sure she was. I'm told it was a lovely piece."
"And meant a lot to her." Which Jake thought was more important. "Well, thank you, and I'll be back with the bracelet later on."
"As I said, anytime."
Jake stuffed the bag in the pocket of his shorts. After stopping at a snack bar for some coffee and a bagel, he wandered the ship, unable to decide what to do next. He told himself he wasn't looking for Sam. There were moments he even believed that.
Finally, he ended up on the top deck. Doug had been right. The day was gorgeous. He put on the shades he'd thought to bring when he'd left the cabin and ambled along. Eventually he reached the pool area.
This would be an excellent place to troll for women, if he could get in the mood to do that. The deck chairs surrounding the pool were decorated with babes in bikinis. His gaze swept the circle, then leaped back to the blonde holding a Bloody Mary and joking with some muscle-bound jock in a Speedo.
Oh, no. Her hair had been layered, flipped and moussed into a style that he'd seen on Meg Ryan. Her lips were red and shiny, and her shades were covered in rhinestones. Her fingernails were longer than he'd ever seen them, and they were as red as her lipstick. Her toenails were also red. But that wasn't the worst of it.
She was wearing the skimpiest black bikini he'd ever seen. He felt like marching over there and covering her with a towel. And that moron standing beside her lounge chair — wasn't he getting an eyeful? Jake wondered how the guy would like a quick dunk in the pool. Jake could make it look like an accident.
"Hey, there."
Jake glanced down at a redhead he vaguely remembered talking to in Neptune's Grotto the night before. "Hi."
She held up a bottle of sunscreen. "I've been hoping someone would come along who could put this on my back."
"I wish I could, but I really have to talk to someone right away." He walked quickly over to where Mr. America was flexing his pecs for Sam's admiration. "Sam, can I see you for a minute?"
She looked up at him, and her jaw tightened. "What about?"
"Um, I bought you a little something in the gift shop." He'd meant to save it for later, when they were alone, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Mr. America shrugged. "Hey, I'll catch you later, Samantha." He jumped into the pool, managing to splash Jake in the process.
Jake took the bag out of his pocket and crouched down next to Sam. "Here."
She put down her drink and sat up so she could take the bag from him. "That's very nice, but you could have picked a better time. I was —"
"Putting on quite a show for the locals." Up close, he could smell the coconut oil on her smooth skin. The tiny scraps of material barely covered her nipples. He'd never thought of Sam's nipples before, but he was thinking of them now.
Her chin came up and her breasts jiggled. "Stop sounding like a big brother. I can do whatever I want on this cruise."
"I'm worried that you'll get in over your head." And take me with you.
"Well, don't worry. Oh, and by the way, there's a talent show tonight. And I'm going to be in it."
Samantha loved the tiny ship charm that Jake had bought her. If only it didn't seem like a bribe to get her to change back to the boring Samantha he was used to. Well, that wasn't happening. She was having too much fun enjoying the attention she was getting with her new look. Suddenly she had the courage to flirt, and it was working.
For the rest of the day she tried to ignore Jake, but she was aware of him keeping her under surveillance. So far the various men she'd interacted with hadn't noticed Jake lurking around, but the minute she had a chance to see him alone, he was getting an earful. This was not the way they'd planned to conduct this trip.
When she headed back to the cabin to dress for the evening, she almost hoped he would follow her, so she could set him straight. For some reason he didn't show up until after she'd showered, reapplied her makeup and slipped into the red dress she'd bought during her morning shopping spree.
Jake came through the door and paused, his eyes wide. Then he gulped. "Where — where did you get that dress?"
"This cute little boutique on the Princess Deck. Listen, Jake, you're being way overprotective. I'll never get anywhere with a guy if you don't back off." Truth be told, she hadn't found anyone she was interested in yet, but maybe she'd been too distracted by Jake to really focus on the guys she'd met.
"Overprotective? I don't think so. Do you have the foggiest idea what could happen to you, prancing around this ship half-naked?"
"I might get a boyfriend for a change?"
"You might get more than you bargained for!" He scowled at her. "I mean, look at the neckline on that dress. I'll bet you're not even wearing a bra under that."
"It's none of your business if I am or not. That's exactly what I'm talking about, Jake. If you'd spend more time looking for a girlfriend, you wouldn't be so worried about what I wear and who can see down my dress." She glanced at her watch. "I have to go."
"Where? It isn't time for dinner."
"I'm meeting someone for drinks."
"Who?"
"Jake! You have to stop monitoring my every move! Now I'm out of here." Her charm bracelet jingled on her arm as she grabbed her evening bag and left.
* * *
Maybe she shouldn't wear the charm bracelet all the time. As it was, she found herself playing with it and thinking of Jake the entire time she sat in Neptune's Grotto with Ned, one of the men from the pool. While Ned told her about his law practice back in California, she remembered Jake's expression when he'd first walked in the door. She'd knocked his socks off with this dress. Jake had never looked at her like that. She liked it.
Maybe he was being overprotective because he didn't want other men around her. Maybe he was starting to think he wanted to be the one getting cozy with her instead. Oh, probably not. No doubt she was letting her new power to attract guys go to her head.
"What do you say we skip the formal dinner and just order a sandwich here?" Ned said.
"What?" Samantha had to run through what he'd said before she could answer. "Oh, um...thanks, but I need to go to dinner and see if my friend has found her locket yet." She stood.
Ned looked disappointed as he stood, too. "Yeah, I've heard about ten people so far have lost jewelry. If you have anything valuable on this trip, I'd watch out for it."
"The only thing I care about is this charm bracelet, and I doubt it's valuable enough to interest a jewel thief."
"My little sister has one of those things. Well, can I walk you to the dining room?"
Something about the way he referred to a charm bracelet as one of those things irritated her. "Thanks, but I need to check in with the person running the talent show before I go to dinner."
"Then I'll see you tonight?"
"If you go to the talent show, then definitely!" She hurried out of the lounge before Ned could sew up any more of her time. Then she made a quick trip to the auditorium and found the talent show coordinator, Delilah O'Shea, backstage. The smoky-voiced redhead exuded sex, and Samantha figured she could pick up a few tips simply by hanging around and watching how Delilah captivated men.
"Well, if it isn't my ballerina," Delilah said. "All set for tonight?"
"You bet." Although Samantha hadn't danced on stage since high school, in the privacy of her apartment she'd worked out routines to various popular songs for fun and exercise. That was about to come in very handy.
"Good." Delilah walked over to a rack of costumes and pulled out a black lace bodysuit. "I think this will fit you just fine." She held it up to Samantha. "Uh-huh. That'll turn them on all right."
Samantha's pulse raced as she thought about the person she'd really like to turn on with her performance tonight. If Jake was starting to think lusty thoughts about her, she'd like to smoke him out.
"Yep, you'll be a knockout," Delilah said. "But promise not to steal Delilah's job, okay, honey? 'Cause Delilah needs the money."
"I wouldn't dream of stealing your job, not that you have anything to worry about. Everybody I talk to says you're an amazing dancer."
Delilah preened. "Which I am. Okay, here's your time slot. Don't be late."
"I won't." Samantha left quickly when she realized dinner was about to be served. She made it to her seat beside Jake right before the appetizers arrived.
"Have a nice time, Sam?" he murmured.
"Sure. Very nice." She watched him out of the corner of her eye.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. Then he turned and started a conversation with Leanne Whittaker.
He spent the rest of the meal talking with Leanne, and if Samantha hadn't known the woman was newly married, she'd swear that Leanne was flirting with Jake. Weird. Mackenzie and Jack were still involved in some duel that Samantha didn't understand, so she didn't attempt conversation with either of them.
When Dixie mentioned her locket, Samantha noticed that their usually happy waiter, Ski, lost his smile. He looked so miserable that finally she left the table and stopped him on his way into the kitchen. "What's wrong, Ski?"
His shoulders slumped. "They thought we stole that stuff. They searched the cabins of all the waitstaff. We're cleared, but I hate that they didn't trust us."
"Well, at least you're cleared." She squeezed his arm.
"Yeah." He headed back to the kitchen with his tray.
After returning to the table, Samantha relayed what she'd learned to her dinner companions.
"I'd heard that rumor," Jake said. Then he started talking to Leanne again.
Samantha knew he was deliberately ignoring her. Still, as she sat beside him she could feel heat radiating from his body, as if he was doing a slow burn. Then again, maybe it was only her imagination.
* * *
An hour later, Jake sat in a cushioned seat watching one of the ship's professional entertainers put his animals through their paces on the main stage. Bobby Frank worked with a dog, a monkey, a raccoon and a parrot, all of which did some pretty amazing stunts. Judging from the reaction, the crowd loved it.
Jake, however, was only biding his time until the amateur talent show part of the program.
When the animal trainer and his menagerie left the stage, a sultry redhead wearing sequins and feathers came out. "I want you all to join me in singing Happy Birthday to a very special passenger. Myrtle Throckmorton turns one hundred today!"
About three rows down from Jake, the spunky old gal he and Sam had met the night before stood, bracing herself on the back of the seat in front of her as she waved to everyone. She remained standing, beaming in the spotlight, as the crowd sang. She was dripping with diamonds, and Jake hoped to hell the jewel thief or thieves would have the decency to leave an old woman alone.
Finally the redhead, Delilah something-or-other, announced the beginning of the passenger talent show. Jake sat through two singers, a bad ventriloquist and a standup comic. Then the lights dimmed, and when they came up again, a red spotlight found Sam, her body arched provocatively and every luscious curve outlined by black stretch lace.
Jake's mouth went dry and his penis began to react. He shifted in his seat and tried to look somewhere else, anywhere else. But the sexy dancer in the red spotlight wouldn't be denied, and once again his gaze locked on to her sinuous movements.
His Sam was a bombshell. How had he missed that all these years? But she wasn't dancing for his benefit. She'd never indicated that she'd wanted him, ever, and she'd had years to let that be known. He'd always been shorter than she was, and instinctively he'd known that made a difference to her.
So she wasn't dancing for him, her height-challenged buddy. She was dancing to attract the attention of all the available men in the audience who were at least five-ten or above. In that moment, Jake hated his particular gene pool.
He couldn't take this. After the show the guys would be buzzing all around her. He'd already spent the day watching that happen, and he didn't intend to spend his night that way, too. Lurching out of his seat, he made for the nearest exit at the back of the auditorium. He needed air.
Samantha was bitterly disappointed when Jake didn't seek her out after the talent show. She couldn't believe that her best friend, even if he happened to be ticked off at her right now, would skip the show, but apparently he had. Although she was sought after by at least a dozen guys who came up to her afterward, the only one she'd wanted to impress wasn't anywhere to be seen. And she'd danced for him.
Eventually hurt turned to anger, and she decided to spend this cruise the way she'd intended, lapping up all the attention from adoring men. She danced every dance in the Sea Breeze lounge. She almost hoped Jake would come in and see that happening, but he didn't.
A couple of guys tried to coax her back to their cabins. She put them off, hoping that by the next night, she'd be in the mood to try a little sexual adventure. Her stupid body yearned for Jake, but she'd work on that in the next twenty-four hours. This was probably all Dixie Willis's fault, for planting the idea that Jake would fit her perfectly once they were horizontal.
At last she went back to her cabin, only to find that Jake wasn't there. She wondered if he'd found someone tonight and was, at this very moment, in that woman's cabin enjoying himself. The thought made Samantha sick to her stomach.
Thank goodness the ship would dock in Cozumel in the morning. She'd chosen a horseback ride as her activity, while Jake planned to snorkel. They'd set it up that way on purpose, so each of them would have space to hunt for a potential spouse. She didn't care about that anymore, but she could hardly wait to get off this ship and as far away from Jake Rivera as possible.
* * *
When she woke up the next morning, she realized that the ship wasn't moving. After a day and two nights of sailing, she'd become used to the subtle movement and the slight vibration. She'd come to like it, in fact.
She rose up on one elbow and discovered Jake's bed had been slept in, but he'd left again. Her stomach lurched. She'd never had such a prolonged fight with Jake, and it didn't feel good. Sure, she'd told him to back off, but she hadn't meant that he should disappear completely.
Moving quickly, she brushed her teeth and took a shower. Because Jake hadn't been there, she hadn't bothered to bring any clothes into the bathroom with her. She was drying off when she heard the cabin door open and close. Immediately she thought of the jewel thief, although she didn't have any jewels to steal.
"Jake?" she called out, wrapping the towel around her.
"It's me."
She peeked out of the bathroom and discovered him with his back to her as he gazed out their small porthole. He looked as if he'd showered and changed clothes, but she couldn't believe she'd slept through that. Maybe some woman had allowed him to use her shower. Samantha swallowed the bitterness on her tongue.
Mostly she didn't want to fight with him. His friendship meant too much to her. "Um, Jake, I didn't bring any clothes with me into the bathroom, so..."
"Want me to leave?"
"No! Just don't turn around. I'll be dressed in a jiffy."
"Okay."
She opened the small dresser drawer and took out underwear. "Did you have a good time last night?" she forced herself to ask.
"Fine."
"Me, too." Even though she wasn't completely dry, she struggled into a bra and panties. She wanted him to be able to face her so they could have a normal conversation, or as normal as possible under the circumstances.
"I came back to get your charm bracelet," he said.
She panicked. "Listen, whatever I've said, I never meant to get you this upset. That charm bracelet means the world to me." Her throat tightened. "Please don't ask me to give it back."
He turned, his expression amazed. "Give it back?" Then his eyes darkened as he caught sight of her standing there in her panties and bra. "Sorry, I thought you'd be dressed." He swung around and faced the window again.
"I...I will be. In just a second." She fumbled with her blouse and shorts, her brain whirling in confusion, her emotions on edge. For a moment, he'd looked at her with pure desire. That didn't make much sense if he'd made love to someone else during the night. Maybe he hadn't. After all, he had come back to sleep here, at least for a little while.
"I need to take your charm bracelet to Doug Goldman, the gift shop guy, so he can attach the new charm. I thought today would be good, because you probably don't want to wear it horseback riding."
"Yeah. I might spook the horse." She was so relieved that he still cared enough to think about getting the charm attached for her. "Okay, I'm dressed."
He pivoted, and a smile tugged at his mouth. "Sort of. You're buttoned up wrong."
She glanced down at the front of her blouse, and sure enough, she was off a buttonhole. But she'd almost made him smile. She loved Jake's smile, loved watching the flash of his even white teeth against his olive skin and the sparkle in his brown eyes when something tickled him.
"Your dance was great." His voice was husky.
"You were there?" That husky note in his voice intrigued her. Could it possibly mean that she was having an effect on him?
"I was there."
"I didn't see you." And I didn't see you afterward, either, and you were the only man I wanted to see.
"I...I had to leave."
For another woman? She had to know. "Okay, Jake, I —"
"It's late, Sam. We both need to get going in order to be on time for the shore excursions."
"But —"
"Give me the bracelet so you can put on your shoes and comb your hair."
She grinned. "It's combed."
"Oh. Sorry. I'm not up on these new styles."
She could see they weren't going to get anything settled right now, so she opened the drawer, took out the bracelet and tossed it to him. "Thank you for taking care of this." Then she tossed him the small box with the ship charm inside. "I could do it, you know. In fact, I meant to."
"My gift, my responsibility." He started toward the door, which meant he had to pass right by her.
She inhaled his aftershave. "Did you shave and shower here this morning?"
He glanced at her, his gaze unreadable. "No."
The answer was like a blow to the stomach. She was afraid the impact registered on her face, but she couldn't help it. "Have a nice day," she said in a voice that squeaked with tension.
"You, too."
* * *
Jake spent the day underwater looking at brightly colored fish. Underwater was as good a place as any to be, considering that he didn't feel like talking to anybody. He exchanged a few friendly words in Spanish with the tour guides, but other than that he kept to himself. When the group broke for lunch, a couple of women attempted to flirt with him, but they eventually stopped when he didn't flirt back.
What a hellish trip this was turning into. Pride had coaxed him to let Sam think that he'd used another woman's shower this morning, when in fact he'd sneaked out with his stuff and used the shower in the workout room. His shaving gear and other clothes were still sitting in a locker, and an attendant had instructions to return them to his cabin later today.
After the way Sam had danced on stage, she had to have at least one guy after her, and probably more. She'd told Jake to give her space to let that happen, and he would, even if it was killing him. In the meantime, though, he'd allow her to think that he had something going on, too. Petty, yes. But he thought it was forgivable under the circumstances.
Late that afternoon, the snorkeling group returned to the ship. Jake walked into the cabin, expecting Sam to be back from horseback riding. When she wasn't, he decided to retrieve her bracelet so it would be waiting for her when she came in. He was gratified that the bracelet still meant so much to her. Obviously she cared a great deal about him...as a friend. It was his bad luck that he wanted more and she didn't.
As he walked into Doug Goldman's shop, he expected to be greeted with the same big smile and irritating cheerfulness as before. He even braced himself for it.
Instead Goldman looked very distraught. "Mr. Rivera, I am so sorry. So dreadfully sorry. I would never have expected such a thing to happen, but I regret to tell you that —"
"You damaged the bracelet?" Jake's muscles clenched. Now that he realized how he felt about Sam, that bracelet was more important than ever.
"No." Goldman twisted his hands together. "I was in the process of attaching the charm, and I was working here on the counter because I had to keep an eye on the store. Someone came in...I can't even tell you who it was. They asked me a question, and I answered it. When I turned back to finish the job, the bracelet was gone."
Jake paced the small cabin waiting for Sam to come back. Damn it, he never should have trusted Goldman with the bracelet. Something about the guy had bothered him from the beginning, and now Goldman had either been careless or, worse, he was the thief himself.
After finding out that the bracelet was gone, Jake had paid a visit to the ship's security office. The folks there weren't in a particularly happy mood because several other pieces of jewelry had been stolen during the day. The only good news was that all the passengers who had taken shore excursions were automatically in the clear.
Jake hesitated to cast suspicion on Goldman, but he mentioned that Goldman might have been the one who'd started the rumor about the waitstaff. Apparently Security already had Goldman on their radar, but they'd been unable to gather enough evidence to justify a search of Goldman's cabin and shop. The guy was a tireless worker who added a sizable revenue to the cruise line's coffers. They were understandably hesitant to accuse the guy of theft.
So Jake was left to wait for Sam, knowing he had to tell her immediately about the bracelet. Losing it would break her heart. It nearly broke his. All those years of memories gone.
He was ready to take the ship apart, piece by piece, to get it back. Unfortunately, the thief might have sneaked ashore at the end of the day and fenced everything. The latest thefts hadn't been discovered until this afternoon, as people returned from Cozumel.
The time dragged by, and still no Sam. Finally Jake picked up the phone and called the tour desk. He learned that the horseback riders had returned, but the woman at the tour desk sounded edgy.
"I'm rooming with Samantha Burns." Jake gave the woman their cabin number. "Can you tell me if she came back with the others? We were supposed to meet for a drink." That last part was improvised, but he needed information.
"Actually, uh, Miss Burns is, uh, still out on the ride. She and another rider got separated from the others. The stable is in the process of locating them. It's a completely reliable stable, and I'm sure she'll be back very soon. If you'd like to check back in fifteen —"
Jake cursed and slammed down the phone. In no time he was running down the gangplank onto the dock. A few taxis hung around, and Jake took the first one. Thank God for his ability to speak Spanish. The driver knew the stable in question, and Jake promised him considerable dinero if he got them there quickly.
The stable was up in the hills, so the taxi ride jolted every bone in Jake's body. He didn't care. Sam was out there somewhere, in a strange country, not knowing the language, and it was getting dark.
Jake wasn't sure why she and some other rider had become separated from the group, but even if Sam had wanted to have some private time with a guy, she wouldn't have caused this kind of commotion in the process. She would have caught up with the others if she could.
When the taxi reached the stable yard, Jake hopped out, promised the driver even more money if he'd wait there, and went after information. He found out that two different search parties had been sent out. Jake asked for a horse and a trail map. The stable owner was reluctant, but Jake offered him enough dinero to overcome that reluctance.
As he started out in the gathering dusk, he prayed that he'd find Sam very soon. This wasn't the kind of country where a young blond woman should be wandering alone after dark. He fought the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as the shadows lengthened.
And then, through a break in the low-growing trees, he saw her riding toward him. "Sam!" He kicked his horse into a gallop. "Sam!"
"Jake!" She dug her heels into her horse and nearly ran him over.
He grabbed her horse's reins and quieted the prancing animal. Then he looked at Sam. She had a big scratch down her left cheek and her tight little blouse had most of the buttons ripped off. She looked as if she'd been rolling in the dust.
"What happened?"
She gazed at him, and her smile was shaky. "Well, I got in over my head, like you warned me I might. But I remembered that you told me to use my knee if I ever found myself in that sticky situation. So I did. And it worked."
A red haze settled over his brain. "A guy tried to rape you?"
"He tried. Didn't succeed."
Jake's body coiled, ready to spring. "Where is he?" he asked quietly.
"Oh, he'll be along. It's a little painful to ride when you've been kneed hard in the crotch."
"Then we'll wait right here. I have a few things I'd like to say to the bastard."
She shook her head. "I don't want you to hit him."
"Too bad." Icy determination ran through Jake. "He tried to rape you. He's going to pay for that. First I'll teach him some manners, and then we'll have him arrested."
"We can have him arrested, but I don't want you to beat him up. I want..." Her lower lip trembled.
"What? Anything. Tell me what you want."
"I need you to hold me, Jake."
He was off his horse in a millisecond, dropping the reins to the ground. Then he lifted her down as if she might break, ground-tied her horse and gathered her against him. "Oh, Sam." He guided her head to rest on his shoulder, as she'd done when they were dancing. "Sam, you scared me so bad."
Her arms tightened around him. "I scared myself." She sniffed. "He...said he saw a hawk's nest. He wanted to show me. Then he pretended to lead us back to the group, but he was really leading me away."
Jake held her so close he could feel her heart thudding against his chest. "I have to beat him up, Sam. He's lucky I'm not going to kill him."
"I don't want you to beat him up!" She gripped him fiercely and lifted her head from his shoulder. "Jake, promise me you'll let the authorities take care of it!"
Her mouth was so close to his that he caught his breath. "Why?"
"Because I don't want you getting hurt or, maybe, in trouble."
He gazed into her eyes and could swear he saw something there, something deeper than friendship. "Why?" he asked again.
"Because...because I love you."
His heart started to race. "As a friend?"
"Yes."
"That's it?" His whole world stood still as he waited for her answer.
"No, that's not it. I'm sorry, Jake. I know it's inconvenient, but I'm in love with you. In a man-woman kind of way. I know that's not what you want, but —"
He kissed her in order to show her that was exactly what he wanted. Then he moaned, because kissing Sam was obviously what his lips were designed to do. For years he'd wasted kisses on women who didn't fit.
Sam fit exactly. And at last they were mouth-to-mouth, tongue-to-tongue, chest-to-chest...and, oh, yeah, by the way, all the rest of the body parts meshed the way they were supposed to. Of its own accord, his hand moved to cup her bottom and align their bodies even better. Ah. Incredible.
The world faded as he concentrated on the only thing that mattered, kissing Sam. She seemed just as focused, trying to get as close as possible, considering they had a couple of layers of clothes in the way. If the sound of hoofbeats hadn't interrupted them, the layers of clothes might have been eliminated, too.
With great reluctance, Jake lifted his lips from hers. "I love you," he said, and wondered why he hadn't admitted it years ago. "I want you to hold that thought until we can get back to our cabin and continue this."
"Jake." She struggled for breath. "Promise me you won't —"
"I won't. I have better things to do." Then he turned his head in the direction of the hoofbeats. Two cowboys flanked a sorry-looking greenhorn who winced every time he bounced on the saddle. He had several scratches on his face, which made Jake proud. Sam had given a good accounting of herself.
He gave her a squeeze. "Let's mount up," he said. "The sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner we can be alone."
"And naked?" she whispered.
He grinned and leaned down to murmur in her ear. "Most definitely naked."
* * *
Two hours later, Samantha lay cuddled next to Jake in one of the cabin's twin beds. Just as Dixie had predicted, when they were horizontal, Jake being an inch shorter didn't matter a bit. If anything, the experience was even better with so many contiguous body parts.
Jake ran his fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry about the bracelet."
"Me, too." She nibbled on his earlobe. "But given the choice, I'd take what we've found over what we've lost."
"That's for sure. You know, I was so certain Doug Goldman was the culprit, and Security thought so, too. But then those diamond earrings were swiped when the security people were in the shop talking to him."
"Well, they have four more days to catch whoever it is."
Jake nuzzled her throat. "And four more nights for us to make love."
Samantha laughed. "That shows what you know."
His hopes plunged. "What do you mean?"
"The way I figure it, we have one-hundred-one hours, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-six seconds left on this cruise. Why limit ourselves to the nights?"
"Ah, Sam." He gathered her close. "I love how you think."
"No one believes we're married," Mackenzie Carr declared to the yellow sheet hanging from the ceiling of the stateroom.
From the other side of the sheet, Jack Berber emitted a dry laugh. "Are you kidding, Mac? You pick at me constantly, you contradict every word I say, and you finish my sentences. Believe me — everyone is thoroughly convinced we're married."
Mackenzie gave him the evil eye through the thin fabric barrier.
"Your mistake," he continued in his rolling New Orleans accent, "was telling everyone the first night that we're on our honeymoon. Where did that come from?"
Her chin went up. "I thought a few details would make it — us — seem more believable."
Another guffaw sounded. "It would've been more believable if you'd said we were celebrating some hard-won anniversary."
"Like ten years?"
"With you, I was thinking more like one year."
Mackenzie screwed up her mouth and flung aside the "curtain" separating their twin beds, but the words on her tongue dissolved at the sight of Jack's bare back — and the bare rest of him. She gaped at muscles playing in his shoulders as he toweled his sandy-colored hair dry. The muscles gave way to a narrow waist and rather splendid tan lines. Mackenzie swallowed hard. In her world, derrieres that looked that good were typically on the back of some ancient statue.
"Hey," Jack said over his shoulder. "You ogling my assets wasn't part of the deal — but we can always renegotiate."
Mackenzie sucked in a sharp breath and yanked the curtain closed, but wound up bringing it down on her head. She clawed at the fabric, her ire rising at the sound of Jack's muffled laughter. Finally she fought her way clear, only to get another eyeful of Jack. At least he had donned pale blue swim trunks, but all that bare skin and planed muscle still sent shockwaves through her system.
He plucked the sheet from her shoulders and grinned. "If you wanted to get rid of this ridiculous curtain, Mac, all you had to do was say so."
"Oooh!" She snatched the sheet and turned her back, busying herself folding the bothersome thing. No matter how hokey, the curtain allowed her to maintain some sense of modesty in this impossible arrangement. "I don't know what I was thinking when I asked you to go on this cruise to help me find Eli."
"You were thinking that you're an art agent, and I'm a P.I. Except, like I told you before, I work better alone."
Hot tears of frustration threatened. "I feel responsible for Eli. And I wouldn't be here at all if the New Orleans police department would do their job."
"The police believe your brother disappeared of his own volition."
She choked back a sob, then spoke over her shoulder. "You do, too, don't you, Jack?"
For a few seconds, she thought he might comfort her, and God help her, she couldn't say she would have pushed him away. But the only sound in the room was his clothes sliding into place. Mackenzie closed her eyes against the awareness of him flooding her limbs. Three nights crammed into close quarters with her brother's bad boy best friend was wearing on her nerves — and her sanity. Added to her mounting concern over her brother's baffling disappearance after embarking on this very cruise, and she was coming undone.
"Eli is a big boy," he murmured finally. "I don't believe he'd want you running around trying to find him, but since you seem determined, I think he'd want me to keep an eye on you." He sighed. "You can turn around — I'm decent."
She turned around and inhaled sharply. Snug white polo shirt, towel around his neck, ruffled hair — yes, "decent" is one word that would describe Jack Berber. Mackenzie dragged her gaze upward, but the man's mesmerizing gray eyes were just as distracting. The last thing she needed right now was a resurrected teenage physical attraction for Jack clouding her judgment. "I think something strange is going on with this ship. Eli disappears and the cruise line doesn't want to get involved, and now we're on here and jewelry is disappearing right and left — maybe there's some kind of international crime ring operating on board."
Jack frowned. "You mean the crew? Captain Frazier doesn't seem like the sort of person who would allow something like that to go on under his watch." His grin reappeared and he wagged his eyebrows. "And the cute little cruise director isn't stealing anything but hearts."
Mackenzie put her hands on her hips. "Can't you go a few days, Jack, without making a new conquest?"
He lifted his hands. "Why would I want to?"
She closed her eyes briefly. "There are words for men like you."
"Happy?"
"Immoral. Where's your wedding ring?"
He frowned and rummaged around in the jumble of change and poker chips on the tiny nightstand between their beds and came up with the gold band. "Do I have to wear it?"
"Yes. It might get stolen if you leave it in the room."
He pushed the band onto his ring finger with much grimacing. "If I'd known I was going to have to wear it all the time, I would have picked one in that pawn shop that wasn't so tight."
Mackenzie sighed. "Stop complaining. And you need to wear it to keep up appearances."
He leaned forward, and his eyes danced. "I've got news for you, Mac — not all married men wear their rings."
She pursed her mouth. "My husband does."
Their gazes locked, and the air between them got gluey. The silence dragged on heartbeat after heartbeat, breath after breath.
Jack stared at the woman in front of him, teetering between shaking her and kissing her. Mackenzie Carr was the most prissy, uptight woman he had ever known — and he'd known a lot of women in his thirty-eight years.
He'd first laid eyes on Mac when he'd gone home with Eli Carr on leave from the U.S. Marines. She was twelve, all arms and legs. He'd said hello and she'd stuck her tongue out at him because she hadn't wanted to share her big brother with anyone. Not much had changed in the twenty years since — Mac still resented him for knowing her brother better than she did.
She looked away first and turned to scoop up a beach bag. He swept his glance over her sleek form in the close-fitting white shorts and red tank top, and bit down on the inside of his cheek. Okay, maybe a couple of things had changed over the years, but he'd promised himself when Mackenzie showed up on the doorstep of his agency that he would not, under any circumstances, become physically involved with her. No matter how desirable she looked with her perfect long dark hair framing her perfect face, and her big brown eyes swimming with concern. Eli had once saved his life — the least he owed his friend was to keep his mitts off the little sister Eli adored.
Although it was getting harder and harder to sleep at night knowing Mackenzie was horizontal a mere arm's length away.
He should have heeded the warning bells in his head when she'd hatched this cockamamie plan, but she was compelling in her desire to find Eli. And some small part of him was perversely driven to spend time with her, as if he were testing himself to resist her.
Not that Mackenzie Carr would welcome him into her bed anyway, thank you very much.
"Let's split up for the day," she said, obviously in a rush to get away from him. "I'll make up an excuse to see the ship doctor and I'll talk to the pool staff to see if I can find out anything about Eli. You cover the bars and the casino." She gave him a tight smile. "That shouldn't be a stretch for you."
He returned her tight smile.
"Meanwhile," she said dryly, holding up her left hand sparkling with a pawn shop engagement ring and gold band, "when I see you at dinner tonight, try to act as if not so long ago, you got down on one knee and begged me to be your wife."
Jack frowned at her cute little retreating backside, suddenly gripped by the impulse to blurt the truth about Eli. At the last second, he bit back the words. He hated keeping secrets from Mackenzie, but it was for the best.
Mackenzie batted her eyes up at the muscle-bound lifeguard. "So, Ted, how long
have you worked on this ship?" None of the other pool staffers that she'd spoken
to had worked on Beyond for more than a month, so Ted Hames was her last
prospect.
Ted lifted his gaze from her chest. "About six months."
Her heart jumped in anticipation.
"But this is only a temporary gig to earn my entry fee into the Mr. Universe competition." He curled his arm, and up popped a bicep as big as her head. "I put in a few hours at the pool, work on my tan, then hit the gym when I get off."
"So, do you get to know a lot of the passengers?"
He grinned and winked. "Only the cute ones."
She wondered what woman on the planet would find this guy appealing and faked a return smile. "A friend of mine took this cruise a couple of months back, and he was a weight lifter, too. Maybe you remember him — Eli Carr?" Eli was an exercise buff to counteract his hemophilia. "Tall, dark hair, eagle tattoo?"
Ted pursed his mouth, then shook his big head. "Don't know him. Listen, I'm getting off in a half hour." He wagged his eyebrows. "Want to get something from the juice bar?"
A few seconds passed before she realized the man was hitting on her. She lifted her beringed left hand. "I'm married." And she'd choose her faux husband over this muscle head any day of the week. Not that she was choosing, of course. And not that Jack would want to be chosen.
Oblivious to her thoughts, Ted touched her hand. "Yeah, I noticed your rock. I don't mind that you're married if you don't."
Mackenzie withdrew her hand and patted her stomach. "Oh, my. I think I'm having another bout of seasickness. Can you direct me to the ship's physician?"
He frowned, but gave her directions. She vamoosed, but when she passed the entrance to the casino, she couldn't resist looking in to see if Jack was there — maybe he'd had better luck this morning than she had.
Walking through the doors of the casino was like walking into a mini Las Vegas. Bells sounded, wheels spun, and cigarette smoke hung in the air. Jack wasn't hard to find — he was rolling dice at the craps table and, based on the crowd that had gathered behind him, appeared to be doing quite well. A misshapen brunette Mackenzie recognized as Zoe Zimmerman, former TV beach babe and current "personality" performing on the ship, stood next to him rubbing her personality all over him, presumably for luck. Jack cupped the dice, shook them with a flourish, then released them onto the table. After a tense pause, the group exploded into cheers. A grin split Jack's face, and he accepted a congratulatory kiss from Zoe.
Anger flared in Mackenzie's chest — especially since one look at his left hand revealed that he wasn't wearing his ring. Apparently, Eli's disappearance was the farthest thing from his mind. She, undoubtedly, wasn't in the running either
When he glanced up and caught sight of her, his smile fell and his hold on Zoe loosened. He waved for her to come over, then glanced at his hand. From the look on his face, Jack realized he'd been caught not wearing his ring, among other things.
Mackenzie turned and left in a frustrated haze, disappointment and hurt pulling at her. She'd been aware of Jack's reputation when she'd asked for his help, but she had hoped he would set aside his old ways long enough to help her find Eli.
Reminding herself of her purpose helped her to set aside the mixed emotions Jack stirred in her and find the doctor's office. After a fifteen-minute wait, Mackenzie was shown to an examination room, and shortly the harried doctor appeared.
"What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Berber?" A pinch between Dr. Diane Milner's eyebrows compromised an otherwise very pretty face. Either the woman had had her fill of sick passengers on this voyage or she wasn't feeling well herself.
"A touch of seasickness," Mackenzie lied.
"The concierge keeps Dramamine on hand," the woman replied in a rushed tone.
Sensing a brush-off, Mackenzie blurted, "Also, I forgot my birth control pills and...I'm on my...honeymoon."
"I see. What would you like to hold you over — condoms, spermicidal or an emergency refill on your pills?"
As always, Mackenzie's cheeks flamed when she or anyone else alluded to being intimate with her pretend husband. "Um, a refill would be fine." Then she cleared her throat. "Dr. Milner, have you worked on the ship long?"
"About a year — why?"
She shrugged. "I was just curious about the extent of your supplies. Do you have medication for hemophiliacs?" She didn't know if Eli had suffered a bleeding episode while on board, but it was worth asking.
"Are you a hemophiliac, Mrs. Berber?"
"No, but...my husband is."
"Ah. Well, if he needs medication, I do have it onboard."
Mackenzie wet her lips. "Have you treated many hemophiliacs while you've been on this ship?"
The doctor thought, then shook her head. "None, in fact. But I'm familiar with the disease from my private practice."
Mackenzie watched in horror as the woman's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Are you all right?"
The woman waved her hand. "Forgive me — my father gave me a special pin when I started my own practice, and it was stolen this morning from my desk."
"I'm so sorry," Mackenzie murmured. "So many people have had jewelry stolen. I hope the thief is caught soon."
The woman sniffed and straightened. "So do I."
"Dr. Milner, have you noticed any other strange incidents during other voyages?"
"Such as?"
"Passengers disappearing?"
The woman looked at Mackenzie as if she were crazy. "No. If you'll excuse me, I'll get what you came for, and you can be on your way."
With the pills and a pocketful of Dramamine and a few bonus condoms, Mackenzie walked back through the waiting room. A man she recognized as Bobby Frank, the animal trainer, stood at the counter holding Mr. Sam, a small chimp, who rested his head against his keeper's shoulder.
"I'd appreciate it if the doctor could just take a look at the little guy," the man was saying to the receptionist. "I think he's seasick."
Mackenzie made sympathetic noises and smiled at the man. "I saw your show the other night and really enjoyed it. Have you performed on this ship long?" Considering Eli's fascination with animals, he might have befriended the man.
"This is our first time," Bobby Frank said with a rueful smile. "And seeing how the motion of the ship affects Sam here, I think it might be our last."
Mackenzie returned to the stateroom with no leads and a heavy heart, and was depressed further when she realized she'd hoped Jack would be there waiting for her. He wasn't. And why would he be when he could be frolicking with busty single women who wouldn't insist on modesty and curtains when in a room alone with him?
She spent the afternoon studying a map of Grand Cayman, where the ship was scheduled to dock tomorrow. The New Orleans police detective who had followed up on Eli's disappearance reported that the last verified sighting of Eli was before the ship landed at Grand Cayman. No one could be sure, but it was possible that Eli had gotten off there and had not returned to the ship.
After nights of little sleep, the sway of the ship lulled her eyelids closed. When she awoke, dusk was sliding through the portholes. Jack had not returned. She showered and dressed for dinner, wondering if he were still at the casino or was perhaps celebrating at the bar. At any rate, she decided she should plan to eat alone.
Just as she was leaving the stateroom, though, Jack came rambling down the hallway, looked rumpled and pleased with himself, reeking of alcohol. "You're not leaving without me, are you?" His gaze raked over her clingy dress, and her body reacted.
"Yes, Jack."
He pouted. "Wait for me — I want to have dinner with my lovely wife."
She narrowed her eyes. "Did you find out something today?"
"We can talk over dinner, I'm starving. Give me ten minutes to take a shower and dress."
She wavered, anxious to hear what he'd learned. "Okay, ten minutes."
Mackenzie returned to the stateroom and sat primly on the end of her bed while Jack showered then emerged with a towel around his waist. Since he had such an aversion to the curtain, she looked at the wall while he dressed and tried not to think about the image of his bare backside burned into her mind.
"Ready," he said finally. Indeed, he looked much improved in a dark suit and collarless shirt, and the shower seemed to have sobered him up a bit. He held up his left hand and wiggled his ring finger, which held the wedding band. "And I'm wearing your ring."
"It appears to come on and off easily."
"I won't take it off again," he said. "Scout's honor."
"You were never a Boy Scout."
"No, but I hear they have honor."
She rolled her eyes. "We're late."
She locked the door behind them and walked toward the dining room, aware of Jack's hand at her waist and the admiring glances they garnered. The frustrating part of this charade was that as outrageous as Jack could be, sometimes it was far too easy to imagine herself at his side. Just as they entered the lavish dining hall, Jack captured her hand in his.
Mackenzie stared down at their intertwined fingers. "What are you doing?"
He gave her a devilish smile. "I'm acting as if not so long ago, I got down on one knee and begged you to be my wife."
Mackenzie's stomach flipped. "Physical contact isn't necessary."
"Yes, it is," he murmured. "Your husband wears his wedding band — my wife enjoys being touched. Let's go."
Mackenzie tried to push past the desire that Jack's words sent spiraling through her and conjured up a smile for the other three couples that made up their dining foursome.
"Well, if it isn't the newlyweds," Dixie Merriweather Willis said with a wide smile. The woman's hand hovered near her graceful neck, as if the stolen locket might suddenly reappear.
"I'm sorry we're late," Mackenzie said.
"We were detained," Jack said in a voice that suggested carnal activity.
Her face flamed as light laughter sounded all around. She gave Jack a warning look, which he answered by pulling out her chair. Mackenzie eased into the seat, and was confounded further when Jack lowered a kiss on her neck. She stiffened in surprise. When she realized that Dixie Willis had noticed the unnatural response, she vowed to relax. Making a game out of their undercover status was a way for Jack to entertain himself.
She turned to Samantha Burns. "Are you recovered from your mishap in Cozumel?"
Samantha nodded and leaned closer to her friend Jake Rivera, who, from the look of things, had become more than a friend. "I'm fine," the woman said. "If only my charm bracelet would be found, everything would be perfect."
"Has anything of yours been stolen?" Leanne Whittaker asked. Leanne seemed almost as uncomfortable around her new husband as Mackenzie herself.
Mackenzie shook her head. "No, but I didn't bring a lot of jewelry with me."
"You should keep an eye on that lovely engagement ring," Dixie said. "That's such an unusual cut — it looks antique."
"Family heirloom," Mackenzie said.
"Pawn shop," Jack said at the same time.
Mackenzie kicked him under the table, and he yelped.
Dixie gave them a shaky smile, then turned to talk to her adoring husband, Alfred. That, Mackenzie decided, was the way she wanted a man to look at her — as if she were the only woman in the room, and the only woman in his heart. And if she had to wait until she was Dixie's age to get it, she would.
"A penny for your thoughts," Jack murmured in her ear.
Mackenzie jumped, warming at his proximity. "I was just trying to decide between the flounder and the salmon."
His gray eyes flashed. "Therein lies the fatal flaw in this plan of yours, Mac — you're not a very good liar."
She bristled. "Oh, and I guess on top of all of your other talents, Jack, you're also a mind reader?"
He smiled. "I wish."
He thought she was thinking about him! She frowned. "What did you find out today?"
"Why don't we eat first —"
"Tell me, Jack." She hadn't realized she'd spoken so loudly until silence fell around the table. Mackenzie looked up and gave a little laugh. "Sorry." Everyone shifted in their seats and returned to their individual conversations.
Jack sighed. "No one in the casino or bar remembers Eli."
Her shoulders fell. "That's your news? You made it sound as if you had a lead."
He looked contrite. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd be disappointed. Why don't you try to forget Eli for a few hours and enjoy yourself."
"I can't," she murmured. "And I struck out today, too. Maybe we'll find out something tomorrow in Grand Cayman."
He stared at her for a few long seconds, and finally nodded. "Maybe."
Her instincts reared. "Jack, is there something you're not telling me?"
"No."
She narrowed her eyes. "Exactly how many people did you ask about Eli?"
He ran a finger around the collar of his shirt. "I didn't count."
"Really. Did you count the money you won at the craps table?"
Under the table, he squeezed her knee, sending delicious chills up her thigh. "Keep your voice down," he murmured. "We're supposed to be on our honeymoon, remember?"
Jack was seriously rethinking his decision to stop drinking for the day. When Zoe Zimmerman had appeared in the casino, he actually thought he'd discovered the person responsible for the jewelry thefts. Years ago he'd worked on a case with a private detective in Los Angeles who knew all the scoop on celebrities and, apparently, Zoe Zimmerman was quite the kleptomaniac.
After his score at the craps table, Jack had bought the woman a drink, but his jewelry thief theory had been dashed when she'd admitted that she'd missed the ship in Miami and had to fly to Cozumel to catch up with the cruise. That meant she couldn't have stolen Dixie Willis's locket the first night or the numerous items stolen before they'd docked in Cozumel.
Worse, he was struck by the alien sensation that he'd never before cared what anyone thought of him. Was it possible he was feeling something for Mac other than protectiveness? That plaguing question had driven him back to the stateroom in time to have dinner with the woman who had the guts to pretend to be married to him.
A pinging noise quieted the table. Jake Rivera was standing, wineglass in hand. "I'd like to propose a toast to all the newlyweds at the table." He swept his arm to encompass Dixie and Alfred, Leanne and Mike, and him and Mackenzie. Next to Jack, Mackenzie squirmed and he realized his hand was still on her knee. Jake Rivera beamed as he glanced down at his dining partner. "And here's hoping Sam and I will follow in your footsteps very, very soon."
Everyone oohed their congratulations and lifted their glasses. When Jake leaned down to kiss Samantha, and Jack saw the expression on her face as she looked into her lover's eyes, Jack experienced another new emotion: envy. No woman had ever looked at him that way.
"Jack," Mackenzie murmured.
He turned to see Mac holding her glass toward his.
"We have to keep up appearances," she whispered.
In that moment, he was utterly captivated by her beauty and her bravery. How many female art dealers would abandon their high society job and hitch themselves to a disrepute like him to go looking for a trouble-prone brother? If he up and disappeared, he doubted anyone would even notice, much less go looking for him.
"Right," he said when he found his voice. "Appearances." He clinked his glass to Mac's and looked into her molten eyes as he sipped from his glass. And just like that strange moment in the room yesterday, he felt something pass between them. What-ifs sailed through his mind — what if their backgrounds and their lives weren't in complete opposition? What if she were the one woman he could make a life with? What if Mac weren't Eli's sister?
He massaged her knee and miraculously, Mac's delicate hand covered his.
As Jack's body leaped in response, his mind leaped to another scenario: What if for one night they forgot all the good reasons they shouldn't spend the night in each other's arms?
By the time they made it back to their stateroom, Mackenzie's nerves were higher than the uncommonly rough waves that were making the ship dance. Somewhere between Jack clasping her knee under the table and clinking their glasses together, something had changed between them, and lingered over the course of the meal. She had felt drawn to him by some kind of invisible force — their arms and hands and shoulders kept touching, and each brush pushed the stakes higher.
Maybe in the back of her mind she was expecting to find Eli tomorrow in Grand Cayman, tending bar in some island dive, oblivious to the fact that his sister was worried sick about him. And once they found Eli, she and Jack would snap back into their orbiting roles around him — their paths would probably never cross again.
But they had tonight.
When the door closed behind them, they reached for each other, and came together with the urgency of two lovers living by a ticking clock. Although she had dreamed of Jack's lips on hers many times, his kiss was more intense than her imagination. He delved into her mouth with a skilled, careful tongue tasting of wine, and pulled her body against his. Mackenzie came alive when his hands skimmed down her back. She pushed at his jacket until it fell onto the floor. By the light of the two portholes, they traveled backward until he fell onto one of the beds. She tumbled on top of him, her heart thudding against his.
Their clothes went astray, and if she lived to be one hundred, Mackenzie would never forget the feeling of her bare skin against Jack's, the caress of his fingers over every inch of her, his breath on her breasts and thighs, the impact of their bodies coming together. Years of pent-up tension between them poured out in the most satisfying of ways. They found a rhythm and glided together until she came apart in his arms. Jack's release exploded a heartbeat later. Afterward, they lay together, recovering and saying nothing.
Mackenzie knew things would never be the same between them. The emotions she felt in his arms terrified her, and she had a bad, bad feeling that she might be falling in love with Jack, might have been half in love with him most of her adult life.
He kissed her neck and rolled to her side, resting his hand on her stomach. "MMMmmm."
She closed her eyes and feigned sleep to prolong the fantasy and postpone reality
Mackenzie awoke first, assailed by sore muscles and moisture in long-neglected places. They had fallen onto Jack's bed, made love on Jack's bed, slept in Jack's bed. His warm breath grazed her shoulder. She allowed herself a full thirty seconds of indulgence to study him sleeping in the predawn light. His rugged features were comforting in their sheer masculinity. Jack Berber had a way of making a woman feel safe. It was the irresistible dichotomy that was Jack, because in truth he posed such a huge danger to a woman's heart.
To her heart.
Mackenzie disentangled herself slowly so as not to disturb him and took a long, hot shower. Yesterday she could hold herself apart with the certain smugness of a woman who was above Jack's charms. But today she was just another one of his conquests.
One thing was certain: Eli could never know.
She emerged from the shower with her robe bound tightly around her. Jack was just rousing and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, his face fixed in a rumpled, unreadable position. "Good morning," he said.
"Good morning," she replied, averting her gaze from his morning, er, phenomenon.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Fine. You?"
"Fine. Feels like this ship is already docked."
"Yes. I'd like to go ashore as soon as possible to start looking for Eli." She pulled out the retractable clothesline and tossed the yellow sheet over to erect their privacy curtain.
Silence abounded from the other side, then Jack said, "So we're back to the curtain?"
She closed her eyes. "Look, Jack, last night we satisfied our curiosity, so let's just forget it happened." Tell me, Jack, that it was more than curiosity on your part.
"Curiosity. Right."
She swallowed her hopes and regrouped. "My goal — our goal — is to find Eli," she said to the sheet.
"Eli. Right." He limped to the bathroom, closed the door, and the shower came on.
Mackenzie blinked back tears and dressed quickly. At least it was a sunny day — she could wear sunglasses and avoid looking directly at Jack.
Jack had experienced hangovers that felt better than this torturous morning-after heartburn. Here he was in Grand Cayman, surrounded by turquoise waters, frozen drinks and scantily clad women, and all he could think about was damage control between him and Mac.
He glanced at the woman walking a half step ahead, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a flirtatious wrap skirt that flapped open with every step. Armed with a photograph of Eli, they had visited the police station, the hospitals and clinics, plus every doctor's office, hotel and bar, except for one — the Stingray, which, according to Mac's dog-eared map, sat at the end of this street. As the day had progressed and her inquiries had produced no leads, her shoulders had fallen lower and lower. Conversely, Jack's stress level had climbed higher and higher as he wrestled with loyalty to his best friend and loyalty to the woman he was beginning to feel his heart...stirring for.
They walked into the Stingray, an open-air tiki bar at the end of Seven Mile Beach. Jack agonized as Mac walked from the bartender to each server, showing Eli's picture and receiving a head shake in response to her pleading questions. When she returned to the table he had staked out for them, her chin was trembling. He couldn't see her eyes behind those darn sunglasses, but he suspected they were full of unshed tears.
She toyed with the glass holding the strawberry daiquiri he'd ordered for her. He himself was halfway through a beer, and it wasn't helping a bit.
He couldn't take it anymore, even if telling her the truth meant she'd never trust him again. "Mac, I need to tell you something."
"What, Jack?" She removed her sunglasses, and if anything, the dark circles beneath her eyes made him feel worse.
"Eli isn't missing."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Eli is on a top-secret military assignment."
Confusion registered on her face. "But Eli hasn't been in the military for years."
"He's been in the Reserves, and he was called up."
"But...where is he?"
"I don't know, and if I did, I couldn't tell you."
"When will he be back?"
"I don't know."
"Is he safe?"
"Eli can take care of himself."
"But...why didn't he tell me?"
"It's a matter of national security."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then how do you know about it?"
He sighed. "Eli was afraid something like this would happen, so he told me a few details in case there was a family emergency."
"So he never took a cruise?"
"Actually, he did — a last hurrah and all that, but he had to cut it short and leave for his assignment when he reached Grand Cayman."
Mackenzie fell back against her chair, weak with relief. She pulled her hands down her face and exhaled noisily, then her face erupted in a grin. "He's okay."
"Yeah. And you can't say anything about this, not to anyone."
She nodded, and happy noises escaped her. Then suddenly she straightened and her gaze turned cold. "So…you knew all along."
Uh-oh. "Um, yeah."
"You let me worry myself sick over what might have happened to him, go to the police and act like a lunatic, book this cruise and come with me —" She bolted to her feet. "You...this week...last night...it was all a ploy."
He held up his hand. "That's not true, Mac. I tried to talk you out of the cruise, but when I saw you were determined to go, I thought it would be a good idea to tag along and...look out for you."
"Look out for me?" she said through gritted teeth.
"I promised Eli," he said weakly.
Her face turned cherry red, and she started to shake. He scooted his seat back a few inches because he wasn't sure what to expect. Considering everything the woman could have rightfully done to him, dumping her frozen drink in his lap wasn't so bad.
She stalked off in the direction of the ship, and Jack walked the streets until his pants had dried a nice crusty shade of pink. At the end of a road, he caught sight of a signpost and stopped, emitting a dry laugh. City of Hell, Grand Cayman.
"Perfect," he muttered. "I'm in Hell."
Mackenzie didn't know what feeling to give in to first — fury? Relief? Hurt? Betrayal? She understood why Eli had covered his tracks, and words couldn't describe how happy she was to know he hadn't fallen victim to foul play. But Jack...Jack had played her for a fool, and she'd fallen for him hard. Her only satisfaction was knowing that she'd cooled things this morning and he would never know what last night had meant to her.
She was halfway back to the cruise ship Beyond when she realized she still had a few hours to kill before the ship sailed, and she was in Grand Cayman, for heaven's sake. So she found the nearest beach, removed her shoes and walked in the powdery-soft sand along the edge of the aqua-colored waters, contemplating the emotional mess she'd gotten herself into.
Several dunes and a few tears later, she miserably conceded that when she had gone to Jack's agency seeking his help, some tiny part of her wanted to see if he would finally see her as a full-grown woman instead of Eli's baby sister. And hadn't the opportunity of going on the cruise together fed her fantasy even more? Of course she'd wanted to find Eli, but her motivation for asking for Jack's help now seemed blurred. And feeble.
She had proved that being confined in intimate quarters for days could entice Jack Berber into her bed, but that didn't exactly make her special.
They could call off the charade now that she knew Eli was okay and nothing sinister was afoot. They still had three more days and nights to enjoy the cruise. Separately. Then they could return to their lives. Separately.
When Mackenzie returned to the stateroom, she removed the wedding band, and placed it on the nightstand. Jack would probably spend the night elsewhere — probably in the arms of that TV beach babe she'd seen him with. But just in case he returned to the cabin, she rehung the yellow sheet so they could interact as little as possible. Then she took the world's longest hot shower. At least she wouldn't have to dine alone, and the other couples would probably get a kick out of the story of their defunct undercover operation.
She emerged red and wrinkled to an empty stateroom. She put on some light jazz music while she dressed for dinner. She had just stepped into black mules when she heard the cabin door open.
"It's me, Mac," Jack announced.
Her heart jerked sideways. "Okay."
"I'm just going to grab a change of clothes, then I'll be out of your hair."
Her heart sunk. "Okay."
She wrapped her arms around her middle and watched his silhouette through the sheet, big and athletic, moving quickly for a smooth exit. Jack was good at those. Suddenly he straightened, and sighed. "Mackenzie."
Her eyes widened — he never called her "Mackenzie." "Yes?"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about Eli sooner. I should have."
"Yes, you should have. But I understand."
"I have another confession to make."
She lifted her chin in the direction of the sheet. "I'm listening."
"I didn't tell you about Eli because I wanted to spend time with you."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Why, Jack?"
"Because…because I care about you." The yellow sheet suddenly was ripped from the clothesline. Jack stood before her, his hair hand-ruffled, his cheeks sunburned, his pants stained pink, and his eyes dark and serious. "Because I love you, Mac. I think I've always loved you. Last night was more than satisfying curiosity, at least for me."
She bit into her lip, her chest welling with emotion. "How will Eli feel about that?"
"I don't care how Eli feels about it — I only care how you feel about it."
She studied his face, looking for signs of guilt or obligation that might be fueling his words, but instead she saw a vaguely familiar expression and searched her mind for the memory...it was the same adoring glow she'd seen on Alfred's face when he looked at Dixie.
"Mac?" Jack's voice was hesitant.
She threw herself into his arms, laughing. "I love you, too, Jack," she murmured against his neck. "Since the first day Eli brought you home."
He made a disbelieving sound. "The first day Eli brought me home, I distinctly remember you sticking your tongue out at me."
She licked the lobe of his ear. "I can do other things with my tongue now."
He groaned. "I have a feeling I'm going to be paying for this free cruise for the rest of my life."
She gave him a playful punch, then they fell onto the bed. They were barely undressed when their bodies came together again. They made love frantically, intensely, staring into each other's eyes, and whispering intimate words. When they were finally sated, Mackenzie laughed. "We're going to be late for dinner again."
"Everyone will understand," he murmured. He held up his left hand and thumbed the wedding band. "We're newlyweds, after all."
Tingling with joy, Mackenzie leaned up to retrieve her own wedding band from the nightstand, but the gold ring wasn't where she'd left it. "Jack, have you seen my ring?"
He frowned. "No."
She gasped. "Someone stole my wedding ring!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, I spy the newlyweds who are our honored guests on this voyage. Let's ask the lovely bride to help us!"
Oh, God, no. Leanne had thought she'd finished another day as performing monkey on the Beyond. That's why she'd risked slipping into the lounge for a drink before going to the cabin. It was after midnight Thursday — now early Friday — but she wasn't ready for bed. It was her bad luck that Stanley the Great, a magician so far from great he couldn't even be called mediocre, was looking for someone else to die a slow, painful death with him onstage.
She shook her head. He gestured in a "Don't be coy" manner.
"You going up?" a male voice next to her asked. That voice always sent shivers of awareness up her spine.
She ignored the shivers and the heat rushing through her as he leaned close enough that she could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. "Nope."
"Chicken."
Chicken? She was so not a chicken. But it was bad enough to be humiliated by a talentless magician before a roomful of strangers. She really didn't want to do it in front of her new…husband.
She should have left when she saw the familiar, ruggedly handsome face of the person she'd been trying to avoid…the second half of the lovey-dovey, cruise-winning honeymooners. But realizing she wasn't the only one avoiding their cabin had made her stay. She'd pasted on a happy face and joined him. He'd greeted her with a noncommittal smile that made her want to break something. Like his nose.
He was so…considerate. Friendly. Impersonal. Not what every bride dreamed about on her honeymoon. Then again, they weren't typical honeymooners. With the exception of the times they'd posed for the photographer, he hadn't touched her since they'd boarded.
And, oh, Leanne wanted to be touched. Even here, in the lounge with other people all around, she ached for more than he was willing to give.
She'd clenched her back teeth as they'd chatted about everything except the sexual tension so thick between them you could stick a spoon in it. All the while, what she wanted to do was shake him. And she felt pretty sure he could cheerfully pitch her overboard if she pushed him an inch more.
The obnoxious magician continued, "Shall we beg her to come up here and help us?"
Every set of eyes in the lounge was focused on Leanne. There was no graceful way out.
"How can a vacation be so stressful?" she muttered, having had enough of being "on" for the photographers, who'd followed their contest winners all day. Again. Leanne had been at the mercy of the beeper they'd given her. "If I'd known this cruise was going to be such a hassle, I wouldn't have entered the stupid contest at that bridal show last summer."
"You seemed excited when you won," that sexy male voice reminded her.
"Mike, lead that bride of yours up here!" the magician called. "I think she's afraid I'll make her disappear and not bring her back."
Considering the man's only real skill appeared to be the quickness of his hands, which had "accidentally" groped her butt when they'd met, she didn't think that fear was unfounded. Then again, if he could make her disappear and not have to face any of these people again — and let her escape another agonizing night in her cabin — she'd kiss Stanley's grabby fingers.
"Sorry we came yet?" Leanne asked, seeing the tightness of her companion's jaw. She'd like to think that was because their waiter had blatantly flirted with her. She knew better. Her doting hubby barely acknowledged her existence.
He managed a small smile. "Not as sorry as I'd be if I were the one about to be sawed in half by a hack magician." He rose to his feet. "I don't suppose we're gonna get out of this, so we might as well go gracefully to the execution. Don't sweat it — there aren't many people here." Offering her his arm, he led her up to the stage.
Leanne forced herself not to think about the way his warm skin felt beneath her fingers or the strength of his biceps against her upper arm. Easier said than done. Her senses had been on overload since the minute they'd boarded.
As she stepped up onto the stage, she saw the flash of a camera. Glancing up, she spotted the terrible Turner twins, a pair of mischievous twelve-year-old boys who appeared to delight in snapping pictures of everyone and everything on board. So, no way was this hideous performance going to go unnoticed. It would be recorded forever in the photo albums of a couple of nosy kids.
Leanne stopped counting the flashes of the camera as Stanley the Letch put her into a giant box. He proceeded to saw her in half with a small rubber saw and a big dash of humiliation. He egged the audience into laughter by ordering the groom to save his new wife. "Be her hero, Mike. You've only been married five days. You can't be ready to do her in yet."
Ha ha. Hardy har har. The laugh was on him for three reasons. First, the adoring groom couldn't care less about her. Second, his name wasn't Mike.
And, uh, oh yeah, they weren't married.
Nick Hanson, known throughout the ship as "Mike," was totally gone on his new bride, and she couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. She'd been all set to flee the lounge the minute she saw him. He'd lay money the only reason she'd stayed was because the perky cruise director was watching the magic act. Wouldn't want to disappoint the overly romantic crew of this sad excuse for a Love Boat.
It's your own fault, moron.
He should never have come up with this ridiculous idea. Accompanying a near stranger on a honeymoon…what kind of rat-brained idiot would think of that?
Apparently, a rat-brained idiot like him.
It had seemed so simple. He'd been bowled over by Leanne the first time he'd seen her, two years ago, when she and her pals had chosen his Atlanta bar as their after-hours hangout. They'd even had a mild flirtation going on, with him always teasing her that she killed a piece of his heart every time she ordered her margarita in an unsalted glass. They had an easy rhythm when they spoke, shared an unvoiced intimacy when they looked at each other.
Then she'd stopped coming. Her friends said she'd met a man. Nick had chalked it up as a missed opportunity and mourned what might have been.
The day he'd heard about her engagement, he got good and drunk. He tried to shut down his ears when her friends talked about her upcoming Valentine's wedding. She'd come in a few times during the holidays, looking happy — and yet, perhaps only to him — she'd appeared less vibrant than before. Her striking green eyes had lost some sparkle. Her pretty, petite figure looked almost too slim.
Finally, last month came the whispers about the fiancé. A breakup. And Leanne, crying into her drink ten nights ago, bemoaning the fact that she'd won a cruise and had no groom to accompany her.
So Nick, the rat-brain, had offered to come along. One of these days, he'd learn to stick a gag in his mouth. Because Leanne didn't look on him as her hero. Considering the way she flirted with every man on the ship, as if needing to salvage her pride over her broken engagement, she considered her "husband" a definite encumbrance.
An encumbrance who'd just about reached his breaking point.
"Are you sure you're okay on the floor again?" Leanne asked that night as Nick spread out his blanket.
He glanced at her on the bed, then looked away, his gaze not lingering. Not one hint of desire darkened those blue eyes of his, though she wore a negligee that invited a man to sin. She would have pegged Nick for the sinning type. But he'd proven to be more of a saintly Galahad.
"The floor's fine."
"This bed's huge." She mentally ordered her voice to sound steady and calm, not desperate and pathetic. "We could roll up a blanket and put it down the middle if you're afraid for your virtue."
He gave her a look holding both amusement and annoyance. She waited, wondering if she'd managed to goad him into sleeping where she wanted him — with her, in the big bed in the honeymoon cabin.
Then he'd turned away. "The hard floor is better for my back."
And a hard man would be better for Leanne. Not that she could tell him that. Admitting how much she wanted him would probably shock Nick into sleeping in the bathtub again, as he had the second night when she'd come out of the bathroom wearing a black silk teddy.
As he tugged off his shirt, Leanne turned away, unable to look at him in all his bare-chested glory. God, the man was divine. The most beautifully made male she'd ever seen — all hard muscle and tanned skin, with thick, golden-blond hair that begged to tangle in her fingers.
She'd been attracted to him since the first time she'd been in his bar. He'd flirted; she'd flirted back. Something had seemed to be happening. Then she'd heard rumors. Connie, a friend from work, told her Nick had a reputation as a ladies' man. A pure heartbreaker. Seeing him in the arms of a blonde one night had scared her off. She hadn't returned for months.
By then, she'd been dating Mike Whittaker. He'd been the opposite of Nick. Michael was sedate, conservative. They'd met at work, dated casually, then seriously. Their engagement had pleased both families. And if Leanne sometimes wished she'd had a wild, sexy fling with Nick…well, she knew it was good she hadn't. Less dangerous to wonder what might have been than to have wicked memories that could interfere with her relationship with her new, reliable husband.
Only…Mike hadn't proved so reliable. When she'd found out he'd been fired for embezzling, she'd been shocked. Learning he'd stolen from her — including charging her birthday present on her own damn credit card — had been horrifying. Their engagement had ended right after Christmas.
Which had left Leanne with a dilemma…what to do about the cruise she'd won, which she'd planned to surprise him with after their wedding. The cruise line required a couple.
At first she'd considered inviting her brother. Then she'd found out the newlyweds had to star in promo pictures. The company wanted publicity in the most romantic spots the ship visited. Romantic photos of her with her baby brother? Eeeeuuuw.
She'd decided to can the cruise, and had been crying to her pals last week. Then Nick had been there, offering to come with her…as a friend. His smile had been gentle and understanding — not sexy and playful as it had been in the old days, before her lapse into Michael dementia. Whatever spark had been between them had died when she'd let herself be taken in by a jerk in a suit, instead of giving in to the attraction between her and the hottie of a bar owner.
Which had made her suddenly long to rekindle it.
If she hadn't had two of his famous margaritas, she would have realized it couldn't work. She couldn't share a room with a man she was wildly attracted to when he thought she was on the rebound and seemed bent on friendship. The very side of Nick that had scared her off all those months ago — that knowing, to-die-for smile that challenged every woman who walked in the room — should have made their trip one sexy adventure.
But this week, on what should have been an erotic week of pleasure, she'd been going mad with boredom. Nick had taken his "hands-off" promise seriously. No matter what she'd done to try to get a rise out of him — including flirting with other men — he'd never dropped that friendly mask. Now, when Leanne was ready to let loose, to be brave enough to give in to the attraction she'd felt for him since the minute they'd met, he'd turned into an absolute gentleman. Hell, she could probably strip naked and jump on the bed and he wouldn't look up.
All week he'd been subdued. Uninterested. Unattainable.
Which was making her totally unglued.
Nick couldn't relax until after Leanne's breathing grew deep and steady. That took a while — they both had too much on their minds.
She was probably trying to figure out more ways to torture him. His sexy little bride seemed determined to prove her womanhood, to salve her pride over her jerk of an ex — whose stupid name Nick had to use on this trip, since the cruise line knew the name of Leanne's former fiancé — by garnering the attention of as many men as possible.
It had worked. Whether it was the waiters or other vacationers, Leanne had become one of the most sought-after women on board. Her vivacious laugh and sultry wardrobe had charmed every male around. Including him. Which had not been part of the deal. He wasn't about to get involved in a shipboard romance with a woman so on the rebound she practically bounced.
Nick knew. He saw the hint of hurt in her eyes. And, of course, he'd noticed her carelessness with her diamond ring. It was as if she wanted the thief who'd been plaguing some of the passengers this week to steal the thing. Which indicated she was still devastated by her breakup. Definitely not the time to take up with anyone, himself included.
His desire for something more with her when they got back to Atlanta meant he had to keep his distance now. Otherwise, they'd return home and she'd chalk this week up as a fling, never giving them a shot at anything more. And Nick wanted something more.
He just didn't know if he'd be able to keep his hands off her for the remaining two days of the cruise. Because something was going to break. Either he'd snap and go off on some poor SOB she'd batted her eyelashes at…
Or else he'd make love to her until she admitted not one other man existed on the planet.
Leanne's night full of romance, laughter, long wet kisses and intimate stares came to an abrupt end with the beeping of the pager. "I'm gonna take a hammer to that thing." She pounded on her pillow.
"Not if I beat you to it."
Glancing over, she saw Nick stretching out his long, thick arms, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks from the floor. Her mouth went dry as she remembered some of the dreams she'd had about him the night before. Her skin felt sensitive against the satiny fabric of her negligee as her body reacted to him, but he barely glanced at her.
"Mind if I shower first?" he asked, not waiting for her answer before heading to the bathroom.
"Want me to wash your back?"
Nick heard her comment. He clenched his teeth to keep his lower half — rather than his brain — from answering. Watching her in the bed had made sleep impossible once the sparkle of sunshine on the water had lit up their cabin. Only her frown and the weary way she retrieved the pager reminded him of the day of torture ahead.
Or…maybe not. Leanne had been through so much, didn't she deserve to enjoy a day of her vacation? Hadn't they done enough, posing with everything from the shuffleboard sticks to the captain? Always smiling, they'd let themselves be humiliated on stage for Bobby Frank's animal act and the diva Delilah's dance of the seven veils.
Well, that was one good thing. Nick hadn't cared to have the woman throwing a bunch of filmy fabric over his head while she gyrated, but at least it had put a majorly pissed-off look on Leanne's face. He took satisfaction in that, considering the green-eyed monster had been sitting on his shoulder all week. Not that he'd had any interest in the dancer. Even if the captain and everyone else went ga-ga whenever Delilah O'Shea walked by, Nick didn't see it. The woman wore so much makeup — even when not performing — that she could singlehandedly keep Mary Kay in the black!
He much preferred a woman with quiet, natural beauty. With a heart-shaped face, lovely pale green eyes and hair the color of warm caramel.
A woman like Leanne.
"No. Don't even go there." He couldn't think of the curve of her cheek or wonder how sweet her lips would taste against his. Friends.
Like any friends on a vacation, they deserved a break. Just one day out of the weeklong cruise to do whatever they wanted.
So, while Leanne showered to prepare for their photo-shoot excursion into Ocho Rios, Jamaica, Nick went to the onboard store and did some shopping.
Knowing she'd stalled in the shower as long as she could, and they'd have to hurry to meet the photographer, Leanne towel-dried her hair and yanked on some underclothes. Nick had told her he was going out. Figuring he was still gone, she opened the door, peeked out and saw she was alone. She hurried to the dresser and had pulled out a pair of shorts when the door opened.
"Sorry!"
"Don't go, for heaven's sake," she said when Nick turned to leave. "I'm decent. My bathing suit reveals more than this."
"I noticed," he muttered.
Hmm… "Did you finish your errands?" she asked, not letting on how pleased she was that he looked decidedly reminiscent while thinking of her in her drop-dead sexy bikini.
He held up a bag, still looking everywhere but at her, standing there in her pretty pink bra and matching panties. "Yep. Glad you didn't get dressed yet. I bought you something to wear." His wide grin told her he was up to something. When she pulled out the hideous, oversize flowered dress, ugly cat's-eye sunglasses and monstrous straw hat from the bag, she began to suspect what it was.
"We going incognito?"
He nodded, looking pleased she'd caught on. "Yep. Now get dressed Mrs. Walamanga from Hoboken. We're busting outta this joint in twenty-two minutes."
Leanne grabbed the clothes and dressed quickly, smiling all the while.
"You sure you want to wear your pearls?" Nick asked when she emerged from the bathroom, looking like a nursing-home hot mama in the getup he'd provided.
Her hand rose to her throat. "No way am I leaving them here, with that thief running around." She glanced at her ring. "This? Sure. But these were my grandmother's." She lowered her eyes. "They were supposed to be my something old."
Nick gave her a tender smile and led her out of the cabin.
Escaping the ship should have been easy. When they spotted the Turner twins near the gangplank, busily snapping away with their cameras, however, they shared one panicked look. The boys had latched on to Leanne and Nick early in the week, pleading and cajoling with the "cruise winners" to pose for them, like they did for the PR people.
"You distract them," Nick whispered, "while I fling their cameras overboard."
She chuckled at his wicked expression.
Keeping their heads down, they managed to get past the boys undetected. Leanne bit her lip to keep from laughing as she and Nick, dressed in their hideously unattractive clothes, marched down the gangplank with a few hundred other loud, chattering tourists. When they reached the dock and were surrounded by street vendors displaying island goods, Leanne couldn't resist throwing her arms around his neck. She pulled him close and gave him a smacking kiss on his cheek. "Thank you!"
Something in his eyes seemed to soften. As if unable to resist, he dropped his hands to her hips and pulled her closer. "You're welcome. Let's have a good time today, okay?"
And though she finally had Nick Hanson right where she wanted him — in her arms, with their faces close, sharing both laughter and breath — Leanne didn't press him, didn't try to seduce him into giving her more than he was ready to give.
She'd played the seductress all week to no avail. Now, after the pressures of their decidedly unfun cruise, she was ready to do things his way.
Dixie and Alfred had been up with the sun, wanting to spend all day in port. Alfred, the darling man, had insisted that they go shopping on the island, hoping to find something to make up for her heartbreak over her locket. Not that the locket could be replaced. But, well, if her honey wanted to give her a little gold trinket to make her smile a little brighter, she wasn't going to argue. Her mama hadn't raised any fools.
"How funny," she mused, catching site of a woman's smiling face. "I'd swear that's Leanne and Mike. But they're dressed…differently. And they seem very friendly today."
Alfred followed her stare. Then he turned and looked toward another group of people disembarking. "This cruise seems to have sparked affection in several couples on board."
Dixie saw Jake and Sam standing arm in arm a few feet from a laughing Mackenzie and Jack. She smiled. "We just seem to be surrounded by people in love these days, don't we, sugar?"
Alfred nodded. "People in love, yes." Then, a troubled look darkening his fine hazel eyes, he turned to lead her toward a vendor selling jewelry. "And thieves."
Leanne had never had a better day. She and Nick went into a hotel to change clothes, then set forth to see some of the island's attractions. After visiting Dunn's River Falls, with its staircase of cascading water, they explored the botanical gardens. Stopping for lunch at a tavern, they shared a loaf of crusty bread and some local wine.
They also shared easy smiles and laughter. Leanne wondered how much she'd missed out on by trying to back Nick into a corner. Yes, she might still be sexually frustrated. But they got along so well, they might have had a great time as friends all week, rather than just today. Instead, she'd tried to seduce the pants right off the man. Without once asking if he wanted to be seduced.
Still, every once in a while, when he'd look at her with that sexy grin, or stare at her lips, she suspected he did. Maybe, when they returned home, he'd be willing to admit it.
When they arrived back on the ship that afternoon, they ran smack dab into Amy Webster, the cruise director, who did a double take when she saw the hideous clothes they'd changed back into. Nick groaned. "Busted!"
"Where were you two?" Amy couldn't pull off perky while obviously annoyed that they'd bailed.
"Were we supposed to be with you today?" Nick asked, all wide-eyed innocence. "I'm sorry — we must have had our wires crossed. I guess we assumed we'd have one day to spend how we wanted."
The woman flushed. Before she could respond, someone bumped into Leanne, sending her barreling into Amy. Nick caught her before she could hit the deck, one of his strong hands grabbing her arm, the other landing on the curve of her rear.
Though he jerked his hand away, they exchanged one aware look, and Leanne knew she hadn't been mistaken about Nick's feelings toward her. He'd done a good job — a damn good job — of hiding it. But, if anything, he wanted her more now, after spending a fun-filled day with her, than he ever had.
She felt the same. Which was going to make their last couple of days on ship pure hell.
"I'm so sorry," they heard from behind. Leanne recognized the old lady celebrating her 100th birthday. "I slipped on something." The lady pointed to the deck and grimaced. "I think Mr. Frank and his performers have been here."
Leanne glanced down and scrunched up her nose, seeing what the woman, Mrs. Throckmorton, meant.
"Here come the Turner boys with their cameras," Nick said to the cruise director. The he gestured toward the mess. "That'll be an interesting photo for them to share with their classmates."
Amy stiffened. "I'll call maintenance!" She hurried away, pausing to speak to the twins. Her evasion tactics worked — the boys took off in another direction.
Bidding Mrs. Throckmorton goodbye, Leanne followed Nick toward their cabin. They hadn't gotten too far when they ran into Delilah, the dancer, who smiled invitingly at Nick and ignored Leanne. "Well, if it isn't the lovebirds. Coming to my show tonight? You did such a wonderful job holding all my veils, Mike."
"We've seen your show," Leanne said, a bit more sharply than she probably meant to. "Get somebody else to hold your…veils." Then she pulled Nick away. He seemed to notice her snappishness, and she cursed herself for letting the redhead get under her skin.
Somehow, once they'd set foot back on board ship, they'd both grown more tense and aware. The camaraderie they'd shared today had changed something, yes, but that thick, heady attraction was back in full force.
Leanne, however, had grown weary of playing the seductress. Today had proven something to her — Nick was a great guy. A fun, considerate guy who could easily prove to be someone very special in her life.
He was a guy worth waiting for. So, even if she went out of her mind with unsatisfied lust, she was going to wait for him.
Nick didn't know if he could make it. He'd done all right until now, because it had been easy to remember Leanne was hurting and on the rebound. Her attempts to entice him hadn't been too hard to resist when weighed against that sadness in her eyes. But after today, seeing her laugh, feeling her fingers entwined with his while they'd explored the island, well, he didn't know if he'd be able to muster any restraint if she so much as crooked a finger in his direction.
And God help him if she put on that black teddy again.
Thankfully, Leanne seemed to have made some realizations, too. Because, for once, she didn't rub her leg against his under the table at dinner. Nor did she accidentally brush his arm with the beautiful curve of her breast while reaching for her wineglass. She'd adopted his hands-off policy.
Be careful what you wish for…
"Bet you two aren't sorry about the latest scandal," said Mackenzie, the woman sitting beside Nick at dinner. "With Amy Webster so in disgrace, she can't be chasing you around with her photographer all day tomorrow."
Nick and Leanne exchanged a confused look. Mac quickly explained. "She was apparently doing more than magic tricks with Stanley the Great. The two of them were caught naked in the prop room this evening, inside that big box he uses in his act."
Leanne scrunched her eyes closed. "Eeeeeww."
Jake Rivera apparently overheard. "Well, it was tactless and got them into trouble with the captain. But at least it cleared them of the thefts. Some people reported having jewelry stolen at the time those two were, uh…making the salami disappear in the prop room." The others at the table groaned at the bad pun.
Nick found himself enjoying the meal more than he had any others this week, in spite of how badly he wanted to lean over and lick a bit of whipped cream off the corner of Leanne's lip during dessert. Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed learning more about the people at their table.
"It's been a great day," Leanne said as they left the restaurant and walked along the deck, enjoying the moonlight. "The best so far."
He gave her a curious look. "You didn't mind missing the shows or the gambling?" Or the flirting?
"No. This was perfect." She looked up, dazzling him with her smile that could stop traffic. "Thank you, Nick. For being my friend. For everything." She lowered her voice. "I'm truly okay."
He saw by her expression that she meant it. Leanne was okay. Whatever sadness, humiliation or anger had made her want a swinging good time earlier this week, the sweet, gentle Leanne he'd met two years ago had finally returned.
Now he was really in for it. Because this was the Leanne he'd gone crazy over before he'd known her name.
He needed some distance. And fast. "So, what do you say, want to go do a show tonight? Delilah did make a special request…."
Leanne frowned. She might have been hands-off since they'd returned to the ship, but she was still a little territorial…. He'd noticed that earlier. Sheer desperation had made him hint that he wanted to see the dancer, who, to be honest, made him uncomfortable.
"I'm going to the animal act." She stepped closer, until her body nearly touched Nick's from shoulder to knee, ignoring other people who walked past them on the deck. "You feel free to go wherever, darling. And I'll meet you back at our room tonight."
The only warning he got that she was up to something was the hint of wickedness in her eyes. This time, there was no determination to hide her hurt over her broken engagement. Her expression held a hint of sheer playful teasing. Combined with a healthy dose of sexual excitement and genuine attraction.
Which still didn't prepare him for the heart-skipping excitement of feeling Leanne slip her hands around his neck and tug him down for a long, intimate kiss.
Leanne didn't expect Nick to show up at the animal act. After kissing him the way she had, with every bit of passion, desire and emotion she felt for the man, she'd hurried away, not able to meet his eyes.
She'd ruined everything. They'd reached a truce, found common ground and friendship, at least, but she hadn't been able to keep her horny little paws…not to mention lips…off him. Now he probably wouldn't come near her for the rest of the cruise.
Sitting in a corner, she nearly cried into her drink.
"You look like you need more than wine, sugar," a voice said.
Looking up, she saw Dixie, the friendly older lady from their dining table. "I'm okay."
Dixie shook her head. "Huh-uh. You're not okay. You look like a little girl who's finally decided which toy she really wants to play with…only to find it's broken or she has no batteries."
Wow, the woman was perceptive. "How did you…"
Dixie shrugged, waving an airy hand. "I'm an expert."
"Well, you're right," Leanne admitted. "I've blown it but good. Nick probably won't even come back to our cabin tonight."
The other woman raised a brow. "Nick?"
Feeling heat rush into her cheeks, Leanne quickly admitted the truth of her "marriage."
Dixie laughed, low and sultry, looking truly amused by the sexy shenanigans. "Poor man's had to answer to the wrong name all week, as well as watching you drown your sorrows over your shiftless ex by trying out your feminine wiles on every man on board."
"When the only man I've ever wanted to try out my feminine wiles on is Nick. I should have started trying two years ago when I met him."
Dixie looked thoughtful, glancing past Leanne. "You've wanted Nick for that long?"
She nodded, unable to lie, either to Dixie or to herself. "I was fooling myself with Michael. He never…never…put a song in my heart with a smile. Or kissed me so I forgot everything — time and place, the past and the future." She swallowed as her voice broke. "Only Nick does that," she whispered.
God, she should never have kissed him. Why did she kiss him? Because now it wasn't just about physical hunger. Being in Nick's arms — tasting him, touching him, wrapping herself around him like they were the only two people on board — had shown her the truth. It wasn't just her body that wanted Nick. Somewhere along the line, her heart had gotten involved in this whole mess.
"So why'd you get engaged to someone else?"
Leanne stared at her own fingers, twisting the big, gaudy ring Michael had given her, wondering why the shipboard thief hadn't been courteous enough to steal the thing so she could at least collect the insurance on it. "I guess I was scared. I heard Nick was a heartbreaker, a ladies' man, and I honestly never thought I could hold his attention."
"You've had my attention since the first night you ordered your margarita in an unsalted glass."
Drawing in a shocked breath, she jerked around and saw Nick standing right behind her, obviously having heard every word.
Dixie, who had to have seen him there, smiled sheepishly. "I think I hear Alfred calling me." She rose to her feet. "Have fun, kids."
After she'd gone, Nick took her seat. "Who was this so-called friend who told you I was a ladies' man?"
"Connie from work."
He sighed heavily. "The she-devil with the black hair and blacker fingernails? Hell, Leanne, she's been after me since the first night she came into my place. The woman's like an octopus…all groping arms and suction cup mouth." He shook his head, looking disappointed in her. "I can't believe you listened to her."
"But I saw you one night…outside the ladies' room with a very pretty blonde."
He shook his head. "Honey, I own a bar frequented by a lot of single women who like to play Let's Notch Our Belt with the Bartender when they've had one too many drinks. I can't say I'm a saint. But I don't mix business with pleasure. Period. If any woman's landed in my arms at work, it's because she put herself there, not because she was invited." He leaned close, brushing a wisp of hair off her brow with such gentleness tears rose in her eyes. "You're the only woman I've ever considered breaking that rule for, Leanne. I've been totally gone on you since we met."
Stunned, she simply stared at him, taking in the truth of his words and the tenderness of his expression. "Then why…this week…"
"You were completely on the rebound. So vulnerable and hurt."
She shook her head, almost laughing. "But I wasn't. I wasn't hurt, Nick. How could Michael hurt me when I never loved him?"
"Then why the sultress act?"
She almost rolled her eyes at the typical male inability to see something staring him right in the face. "Because I've been crazy about you for so long and I finally thought I had a chance to seduce you into loving me back."
He stood, pulling her to her feet. "You didn't have to seduce me into loving you Leanne." He tenderly brushed his lips on her brow. "I already do."
They didn't even make it all the way back to the cabin before their clothes were coming off. Nick slipped out of his jacket in the elevator. Leanne tugged off her shoes so she could keep up with him as they hurried — nearly ran — to the privacy of their room.
Once inside, she barely even got the door closed before Nick pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could barely stand. Together, they yanked off every piece of clothing, until nothing separated them but a sliver of moonlit air. Then, slowing their frenzy, they moved to the bed and fell there, together, spending hours touching, stroking. And oh…loving.
Every kiss was a declaration. Every caress a promise. By the end of the night, Leanne knew she never wanted to be parted from this man.
"You ready for breakfast, wife?" he asked, nuzzling her neck as they curled together in bed the next morning.
"You bet," she replied, sleepily sitting up to stretch. She glanced over to the door, where their clothes still lay strewed about, and a smile crossed her lips.
Then she remembered something. Her hand instantly rose to her throat. "Nick, you didn't take my pearls off me last night, did you?"
He shook his head, instantly sitting up beside her in the bed. "The last time I noticed them was when we changed at the hotel before coming back aboard ship yesterday afternoon. Did you take them off to shower before dinner?"
"I can't remember!" She jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, praying she'd see the pearls there on the counter.
Nothing.
A quick search of the dresser, their luggage and her discarded clothes confirmed her worst fears.
"They're gone. Somebody stole my grandmother's pearls."
On the last night of the cruise, Dixie Willis glanced around the dinner table with satisfaction. All three of the young couples she'd been so worried about at the beginning of the trip were now billing and cooing like lovebirds. Dixie liked to think she'd had a small part in that.
Samantha and Jake had already announced their engagement and their decision to move back to the small town of Wickenburg, Arizona, where they'd grown up. As for Mackenzie and Jack, they'd definitely ended whatever feud they'd had going at first. They couldn't seem to stop gazing into each other's eyes.
And that little devil Leanne! She'd only been posing as a newlywed so she could collect on the cruise she'd won. Dixie admired her gumption, snatching a hunk like Nick to stand in for the lowlife she'd almost married. Fortunately, Nick admired everything about Leanne, including her gumption, so wedding bells would ring for that couple very soon.
All in all, Dixie considered the cruise a success, in spite of someone swiping jewelry all week. Rumors had been flying today as to whether the disembarkation in the morning would turn into a nightmare, with no one allowed to leave until the jewelry had been recovered. Dixie wanted her locket back, but not that bad.
Then, in the middle of dessert, Captain Holland Frazier picked up the microphone and asked for everyone's attention. "I want to thank all of you for choosing the Cruise Ship Beyond," he said. "Ordinarily on this occasion I'd make a little speech full of pleasantries. Unfortunately, that hardly seems appropriate considering our recent problem with theft." He coughed and paused to sip some water.
"Here it comes," Jake muttered. "Getting off the boat will be a hassle."
"Unfortunate but necessary," Alfred said, loyally coming to the defense of Frazier, a man he'd served with in the navy years ago.
Captain Frazier put down his water glass and continued. "I'm sure you'll all agree we need to find the thief before everyone leaves the ship. Those of you here for the second dinner seating, in particular, should be willing to do whatever it takes. For some reason, you were hit the hardest. Now we'll make every effort to expedite the —"
"That won't be necessary," called a voice from the doorway of the dining room.
Dixie turned to see Myrtle Throckmorton, dressed in a black silk pantsuit and Nike runners, making her way to the head table.
"Good heavens, she's not using her walker," Alfred said.
Dixie watched the old woman move slowly, but steadily, toward Captain Frazier. "She's either had a miraculous healing or she never needed it in the first place."
Captain Frazier left the head table and hurried to put a supportive hand under Mrs. Throckmorton's elbow. Then he leaned down and murmured something to her. In return, Mrs. Throckmorton shook her head and kept moving purposefully toward the head table.
When she arrived, in an amazingly quick motion she grabbed the microphone Captain Frazier had left there. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have information about your missing jewelry."
Captain Frazier clapped his hand over the mike and spoke in a low voice to the old woman. But she kept a death grip on the mike, and Captain Frazier was in the delicate position of trying to get it away from her without using force. Thumps and crackling noises echoed through the dining room's sound system.
"How dreadful," Alfred said. "Perhaps she's having delusions."
Finally Myrtle gave a mighty pull and wrested the microphone from the captain. "I'm your jewel thief!" she shouted into the mike.
Everyone in the room jumped, and then the room fell completely silent. Even Captain Frazier stood there speechless, his mouth open.
"There." Myrtle smiled. "Well, I guess that got your attention. First let me apologize for the inconvenience. All the jewelry is in my cabin, bagged and marked with the owners' names. Inside each bag you'll find a crisp hundred-dollar bill, to partly compensate you for your trouble."
"What is this?" Nick called out. "Some kind of game?"
"In a way." Myrtle glanced at Captain Frazier, as if daring him to interrupt her.
Looking defeated, the captain gestured for her to continue.
"In the thirties and forties, Mr. Throckmorton and I were the finest jewel thieves in the country. We robbed the best of the best — the Rockefellers, the DuPonts, the Carnegies. We were never caught, and in nineteen-fifty-three we were able to retire in comfort on our investments."
"Amazing," Dixie murmured.
"But we always talked about one last caper," Myrtle continued. "When Henry died last year, I almost died with him, but what kept me going was this cruise caper we'd planned. I carried it out in his honor, as a memorial to him."
It made a crazy kind of sense to Dixie, and a lump rose in her throat at the thought of Myrtle losing her husband after all those years together. Under the table, she found Alfred's hand and gave it a squeeze. Alfred squeezed back.
"I never meant to keep the jewelry," Myrtle said. "I have more money than I need. I just wanted to find out if I still had those famous light fingers Henry used to love so much." She beamed at her stunned audience. "And I do."
"Are you really a hundred years old?" Somebody called from a neighboring table.
"Yes. But I've had the best health care money can buy, so I don't really need a walker. That was part of my scheme, and I also pretended to be deaf and a wee bit senile." She laughed. "Pulling off this caper, I feel twenty years younger."
With that she turned to Captain Frazier. "That's the story. I'm turning myself in. I expect you'll have to throw me in the brig, or whatever you use for lawbreakers like me."
The captain didn't look happy about jailing a one-hundred-year-old woman. "Well, we certainly do need to detain you, Mrs. Throckmorton. After all, you have caused a great deal of —"
"I'd like to say a word if I may, Holland." Alfred released Dixie's hand and pushed himself to his feet.
Dixie stared at her husband in surprise. Alfred wasn't the kind of man to seek the limelight or trade on his position as a friend.
"Certainly, Alfred," Frazier said.
"Assuming the jewelry is recovered, and I have no doubt it will be, I propose that no charges be filed, in exchange for a generous contribution by Mrs. Throckmorton to one or more deserving charities. I'm sure the passengers she robbed could come up with suggestions. I suggest a donation of a million dollars."
Dixie gasped in admiration. Her husband was a genius. Then she began to clap, as did all the diners. To her astonishment, so did Mrs. Throckmorton. She even blew a kiss in Alfred's direction. If the old woman hadn't been forty years his senior, Dixie might have been jealous.
Over the sound of applause, Myrtle called into the mike. "Let's make it five million!"
Instantly, the room fell silent again.
"Even better." Alfred glanced at the captain. "Holland, you're the law here until we make port."
"Yes." The captain looked around the room at his passengers. "But I didn't lose jewelry. I'd want each passenger robbed by Mrs. Throckmorton to see me personally and waive their right to press charges. Once that's accomplished, then we'll —"
"I will." Dixie stood beside her husband.
Samantha pushed back her chair. "So will I."
"Me, too," said Leanne.
"And I will," added Mackenzie.
Soon the room echoed with the sound of women chiming in, and Dixie realized that possibly all the victims had been women, women who understood that even a jewel thief could be sentimental about her dear departed husband.
It looked very much like Myrtle Throckmorton would go free, which suited Dixie just fine. She touched Alfred's arm. "Nice job, sugar."
Alfred slipped an arm around her waist and gazed down at her. "I couldn't let Holland lead her away in handcuffs. Not after the way you reacted to her story."
"It's just that I...well, I could understand her motivation."
Alfred nodded. "And that's why you must promise me something, my dear."
How she adored this wonderful man. "Anything. Anything at all."
He gave her a fond smile. "If I should go first," he said gently, "please refrain from making a public spectacle of yourself as a tribute to my memory. Or I shall come back to haunt you."
The End
Everyone turned in their seats to see Dr. Diane Milner standing, holding a large envelope high. "Captain Frazier, I know who your jewel thief is." She looked around the room. "Or should I say thieves?"
"There's a ring of thieves operating on my ship?" Captain Frazier challenged, his face a thundercloud. "How do you know this?"
The doctor walked the envelope across the room and handed it to the captain.
Dixie watched and waited with everyone else, her heart tripping as Captain Frazier slid his finger under the flap of the envelope and withdrew a sheet of dark plastic that looked like X-ray film. "What on earth is this?"
"An X ray of the contents of a passenger's stomach."
From her seat, Dixie could make out a white rib cage and some other bones. In the center of the X ray were hard-edged objects that were round and obviously metal — rings? She gulped. Maybe even her locket?
The captain's confusion intensified. "Dr. Milner, are you saying that a passenger stole jewelry and swallowed it?"
She nodded. "But they didn't realize what they were doing."
"How could that be?"
"Because I believe Bobby Frank is operating a theft ring with his clever animals. He lets them inside cabins and they return with whatever trinkets and jewelry they can find. Mr. Sam, the chimp, was a little too taken with a few of the items and decided to see how they would taste. Mr. Frank obviously didn't suspect the animal had swallowed anything — he brought Mr. Sam to me because he thought he was seasick. I decided to take an X ray as a precaution and much to my surprise, the poor thing has a treasure chest in his stomach."
"He's trying to get away!" someone yelled.
Dixie turned to see Bobby Frank making a dash for the door.
"Stop him!" Captain Frazier roared.
The men at her table bolted into action — Alfred, Jake, Nick and Jack all ran for the man and quickly subdued him. Dixie's chest swelled with pride to see that Alfred was just as agile and strong as the men half his age. He was her true hero, and the love of her life.
"I need to perform surgery on the chimp right away," the doctor said to the captain, "and I'd like to examine the other animals, too."
Captain Frazier ordered that Mr. Frank's room be searched and the animals turned over to Dr. Milner for safekeeping. "Wretched business," he muttered as the ship security officer arrived to haul away the thief. Then the captain addressed the wide-eyed dining crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I believe the mystery of the jewel thief has been solved. Our hope is to return your valuables before you leave Beyond, but if that isn't possible, you have my personal promise that we'll ship them to your homes. Thank you very much for your patience during this trying ordeal. I'm certain the cruise line will find some way to compensate all of you for the pain and suffering." He grinned. "So perhaps our paths will cross again soon!"
Everyone applauded loudly.
As the men returned to the table, the captain raised his glass. "Cherished guests, please do me the honor of joining me in a toast."
Dixie raised her glass, along with everyone else at their table, and waited for the captain to proceed.
"To happy endings!" the captain declared.
Dixie laughed and everyone at their table clinked glasses. Love glowed on the faces of the couples around her and Alfred. She looked into the eyes of her own lover and husband and mouthed, "I love you."
His gaze softened with joy, and he leaned forward to capture her mouth in the most perfect kiss imaginable. Beyond imaginable.
The End
Everyone in the dining room, including Dixie, watched in surprise as the Turner twins burst through the door. They looked as excited as only two completely-at-the-center-of-attention twelve-year-olds could.
"We know who the thief is!" the taller of the twins said. He was waving a large color photograph.
His brother snatched it. "I took the picture. I get to tell."
"I paid to get the film developed!"
A brief wrestling match ensued. As is usual in nature, the taller, heavier boy won the tussle. But before he could resume his excited speech, the shorter one stuck out his foot to trip his brother, kicked him in the shin, snagged the photo and raced up to the captain.
Dixie was exhausted just watching the little fiends.
"We got a picture of the thief stealing the phony bride's necklace!"
Dixie saw Leanne and Nick Hanson exchange a quick glance. For some reason, Mackenzie and Jack did the same thing then quickly looked around as if to see if anyone had spotted their concern. Samantha and Jake, who were sitting with their fingers curled comfortably together, didn't appear to notice.
"Yeah, the prize-winning honeymooners aren't really married. I figured that part out," the defeated twin called as he struggled to his feet. He shot his brother a glare that would cut glass.
Captain Frazier drew in a deep breath, as if for patience. Dixie nibbled her lip, wondering if he'd berate Leanne and Nick for their charade. Instead, he reached for the color photo. Staring at it, he shook his head in bewilderment then beckoned to some other members of his crew.
They all looked at it, then at each other. "I don't recognize this man," the captain finally said. "But it does, indeed, look as though he is pulling a pearl necklace off Mrs. Whittaker's neck while she and Mr.…er…her companion…are embracing." The man's face flushed a little. Dixie suspected the sticky-fingered thief had taken advantage of the couple while they were engaged in a passionate moment. She had to hand it to him — it would take a lot of moxie to lift jewelry right off the owner while she was wearing it.
Then again, the way Nick and Leanne were looking at each other tonight, she doubted they'd notice if the ship plowed into an iceberg.
"Perhaps you passengers can help us identify this man," the captain said. He handed the photo to Alfred, who in turn shared it with Dixie.
"You don't have to do that," the bigger, bullying twin said with a smirk. "We know who it is." He practically ran to another nearby table and beelined right for Delilah O'Shea, the dancer. Before anyone could react, he'd grabbed a fistful of the woman's long red hair. Then he yanked it…completely off her head.
Someone gasped. Dixie merely shook her head, not quite believing what she saw. Below what had obviously been a wig, Delilah had short, stubby brown locks…the same shade as the man in the picture.
And without the wig, the thief's gender was glaringly obvious.
"Good grief, Delilah's a guy?" Jack said, sounding shocked.
Dixie mentally pictured every man in the room sitting up straighter, dropping his voice deeper, making grunting noises and starting to talk football. Anything to appear as manly as possible. Delilah had been very popular among the fellas. She didn't suppose those fellas were too happy about this turn of events.
"What is the meaning of this?" Captain Frazier said, looking shell-shocked.
The dancer rose to her…his…feet, clutching at his short hair and blinking back tears.
"Miss, er, Mr. O'Shea?" the captain continued, his stern voice ringing throughout the room. "Is this you in the picture? Are you the thief?"
The dancer glared at the Turner boys. "My name's Daniel. And yes, I'm the thief. I woulda gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for you nosy kids."
Hearing a chuckle, Dixie glanced over to Nick just in time to hear him whisper, sotto voce, "My God, it's the Scooby Doo ending!"
O'Shea continued, "You're all rich — you can afford cruises and nice jewelry. I did it for love."
Love? The crowd didn't look convinced. Daniel O'Shea stepped closer to the captain, holding his hands together in supplication. "I met someone on board a few months ago. We're mad for each other. But he doesn't know the truth. If I don't come up with the money for the operation soon, the truth will come out. Literally. And I'm going to lose him."
Operation. Dixie suddenly understood. This time she noticed several men in the vicinity wince and drop their hands to their laps.
At the next table, the old lady, Mrs. Throckmorton, banged her glass on the table. "What'd she say?" the woman called out, her voice as loud as a bullhorn. "Did she say operation? What operation?"
A man sitting next to her leaned close and whispered — loudly — into her hearing aid. Then Mrs. Throckmorton sat back in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a blatant harrumph. "He's stealing jewelry so he can pay someone to chop off his tallywhacker?" She rolled her eyes in disgust. "I woulda done that to my late husband for free!"
A shocked silence stretched out, then someone began to laugh. The laughter rolled through the room, relaxing everyone on board for the first time in days.
Captain Frazier looked at his security officers and nodded. They immediately took the disgraced dancer into custody. "We'll search his cabin and return your jewelry immediately," the captain promised the crowd. "With our extreme apologies."
Dixie couldn't help feeling a little sorry for Daniel O'Shea, who'd risked a lot for love. Especially when, as he was being led away, he paused by their table and patted Leanne on her shoulder. "Thanks for leaving your ring lying around, honey. But you really should dump this cheapskate. It's a total fake."
As the thief was led out of the room, Leanne and Nick burst into laughter.
"Poor thing," Dixie murmured. "Living a double life, trying to find love the only way he knew how." Then she straightened her shoulders. "I do hope the jewelry is in his stateroom."
Alfred met her eye and obviously saw her soft-hearted response. "You'll get your locket back, my dear. Of that I have no doubt."
"When the captain returns it…do you think you could ask him to show a little leniency? After all, Alfred, love makes us all do slightly crazy things."
She glanced toward the three other couples at the table, all of whom exchanged knowing looks. Then, as if by unanimous consent, every other woman at the table who'd been robbed by Daniel O'Shea nodded in agreement.
Alfred seemed to know he was outnumbered. Taking her hand, he kissed the tips of her fingers, reminding her again of every tender moment they'd ever shared.
"Oh, my dearest, Dixie," he whispered, his tone loving and gentle. "As you wish."
The End