“So you thought you’d become a dancer on a cruise ship? What’s wrong with taking a normal holiday?”
“Yeah, seems a bit rich, doesn’t it? My mother danced, and I had planned to go to dance school before Brian ran off the first time. I saw the poster for the auditions, and it all seemed like it was meant to be.” He looked down at her with hooded eyes, but she didn’t buy the “meant to be” line. Not from Dylan.
“I figured working on the ship would give me something to do,” he said. “I’m not very good at holidays.”
Michaela was glad she was sitting down. He was right, she wanted to believe him and even admire him for his honesty. “It’s not just that, though, is it? You love dancing. It’s obvious to everyone who watches you.”
He shrugged.
“You’re going to admit that you lied your way into an audition so you could dance, but not that you love it?”
“I guess I didn’t…or I’d forgotten.” He paused, and his face creased as he considered what she’d said. “It’s good to move. Nice to work my body so much for a change. But it doesn’t really make any difference. It’s nice for three months is all.”
His crestfallen look touched at something deep inside Michaela. He was lost, alone with his thoughts, and she was almost loath to speak. The pause lengthened until she couldn’t resist. “Does it have to be just for three months?”
Dylan started, and the vulnerability she’d seen vanished. He’d locked it up tight somewhere deep inside of him, replacing it with the arrogance that she now understood he wore as a mask.
“Getting away is nice,” he said. “Being out of the office is nice. Being with you is nice. Maybe it could be our little secret?” He gave her a winning smile.
She returned his smile, despite her disappointment that the sincere Dylan had disappeared again. “I’m your boss, remember? Do you expect me to lie for you?”
“No. But…” He gave a pretty good imitation of someone trying not to look smug, even though she didn’t believe it for a second. “It doesn’t look like you have to. Turns out I’m a pretty good dancer—or so you keep telling me.” The look turned from smug to confident. “Why would anyone care where I’ve come from?”
“That’s not the point.”
Dylan sighed, dropping his bravado for a moment. “I just wanted you to know everything. Lily and her kids are family, and I know what it’s like to grow up without a father. They’ve counted on me for so much, I wanted to do what was best for them. I had to take a break in a way they would believe, in a way that didn’t make them feel like I was abandoning them. I thought you might understand that. I thought you valued family, too. It’s up to you what you do.”
He stood and walked out of her office with no more ceremony than if he’d only popped in to tell her what was for lunch.
…
Michaela’s drink that evening with Felicity was a welcome distraction from her thoughts. They sat in a dark corner in one of the more sophisticated bars on the ship. While upstairs there were glossy counters and golden lights, midships offered a couple of cocktail lounges where people could find a modicum of privacy. Michaela sipped at the Emerald Dream that Felicity had put in front of her and thought about the last time she had had the same drink. A sigh escaped her, and Felicity gave her a sharp look.
“Sorry. Just thinking about the captain telling me I was less capable of being cruise director because I was a woman,” she lied.
“I can’t believe he said that to you,” Felicity snarled. “And then to be so damn unapologetic.”
Banishing the sigh and its cousin, regret, Michaela flapped her hand, dismissing the captain and her thoughts of Dylan Johns. “So give me some mindless gossip,” she said. “I know I don’t usually ask, but I need the distraction.”
Felicity gave her a gentle smile and put a finger to her mouth as if contemplating which piece of juicy gossip to impart. “Well, Mr. Chocolate has gotten together with one of your young dancers, one of the twins, I think. It’s entirely unfair—I’m probably much better in bed than her—but I guess she is only twenty, and she’s gorgeous. He’s been pretty vocal about the fact he’s just looking for a bit of tail.”
“You mean you’re going to let him get away with it?”
“I can hardly force him to want my middle-aged self, can I? He’s the fool that doesn’t know what experience counts for. Although I could tie him up with so much paperwork that he has to be down at my feet the whole time, I guess. Nice idea.” Felicity gave her a grin.
“I meant flaunting a relationship with another staffer. You’re going to let him parade her around?”
“Oh, come on, it’s not news, is it? I think this is probably man number five for little miss dancer, and it’s not like Mr. Chocolate is married or anything.”
Michaela blushed, thinking of the captain, but Felicity must have missed it in the dim light.
“You’ve not noticed the sneaky flashes of eyebrow and the giggling in the corridors? And before you go off ranting at your dancer, you can’t tell me you don’t know about all the admin staff. God, this ship is one of the filthiest I’ve been on. Must be the captain setting a good example.” Felicity laughed.
Michaela looked at her friend blankly.
“I know you know about the captain.” Felicity wasn’t smiling now. “The two-faced bastard, at least he’s not with his wife anymore. Sort of makes his philandering okayish. But to go and tear strips off you for having an affair, that’s pretty rich.”
“You know?”
“About you and the captain? Sorry, sweets, but everyone knew. I heard about it as part of my induction. Privacy is pretty hard to come by on a ship.”
“But—”
“Everyone figured you’d put yourself out of bounds after that.”
“Everyone knew? Everyone knows?” Michaela couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice.
“Everyone knows about everyone. It’s not like anyone thinks the worse of you. The whole staff thought the captain was a bit of a catch. Not so much anymore, of course, now that it’s obvious he’s just a dirty player—and, let’s be honest, he’s letting himself go. I don’t know what Bridget thinks she’s doing.”
“Bridget from security is with the captain?” Michaela was incredulous.
“Yep. Almost three months. That’s probably a record for him.”
“But you never said anything.”
“You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to talk about that sort of thing. I thought you still saw what was going on, though. Are you sure we’ve been on the same ship these last months?”
“I guess I’ve been busy.”
Had she? Or had she chosen not to see?
“I know. You’ve really thrown yourself back into it now, though, haven’t you? But you are allowed a bit of fun, you know. Everyone thought you and Dylan would make a great couple. He obviously really likes you.”
“What?” Michaela’s yelp turned several heads in the bar, and she had to duck to hide from the enquiring glances. “What?” she hissed.
“Come on, do you think no one noticed? Last cruise, Dylan wouldn’t let you dance with anyone else, and you had a secret little smile on your face all the time. Then the whole Christopher thing… You didn’t deny you were with someone.”
Michaela was reeling—first because people had known all along about her dalliances with the captain and Dylan, and second to learn anyone cared about her love life. “But I can’t.” She didn’t add that Dylan had lied his way onto the ship and that he would be leaving at the end of his contract.
“I think if you took a poll of your staff, you’d find you can. And they’d love it if you did. They were just getting used to you smiling and laughing with them when you put your shell back up.”
Michaela said nothing. She couldn’t think what to say.
“Look,” Felicity continued, “if you’ve gone off him, fair enough, but don’t turn yourself into a nun because you think you should.”
“But the
captain… I have to prove to him that a woman can do this job just as well as a man. Better, even.”
“Oh, Michaela, you practically told Captain Atkinson you’d got it on with Dylan. Remember, you admitted to having a tryst? He was just spiky that you weren’t pining for him anymore. He’ll be fine as long as Bridget keeps putting out.”
A glimmer of something warm came to life in Michaela’s stomach. Then her heart caught up, and finally her head.
This was a man she really liked.
And she could be with him without jeopardizing her job.
Felicity sat back, holding Michaela by the shoulders and peering into her face. “Oh my God! You’re still totally into him, aren’t you?”
The small nod Michaela gave belied the way she really felt. Dylan had been honest with her, even though telling her his secrets could have lost him his place on her staff. If their budding relationship wasn’t going to affect her role, what did it matter if she started something with him?
A relationship? Hmm…maybe not that. But even a bit of short-term fun would be better than not seeing him at all. The concrete in her chest softened, and her heart beat a little faster. “How am I going to see him? I can’t turn up at his stateroom door.”
“Why not? His roomie is hardly going to mind. Or perhaps you can just call him and demand an urgent meeting in your stateroom,” Felicity said, a twinkle in her eye.
Michaela shook her head. She still took her position and the threat of the captain making her life a misery seriously.
“Go ashore, then. We’re in Vanuatu tomorrow.”
“Oh!” Michaela exclaimed. “Really?”
Felicity said nothing.
“Really. Right, where shall we start?”
Best she took control back on her own terms. It was time she got what she wanted.
With Felicity’s help, Michaela booked a room in a secluded resort. Then she slipped a note—firmly sealed against the prying eyes of his roommate—under Dylan’s stateroom door. She had ummed and ahhed about what to write, but in the end she played it safe.
Please allow me to thank you for saving my career and reputation. Thank you for being honest with me. Meet me ashore at ten o’clock tomorrow morning at the Pacific Sun Resort. They are expecting us.
Chapter Nine
Michaela hugged herself as her small boat drew up to the secluded entrance.
The Pacific Sun Resort was a new one, affiliated with a large European five-star chain. It had all the modern amenities, including sparkling swimming pools, a spa, and a gourmet restaurant. The staff whispered in and out of view, always there when they were needed and gone when privacy was wanted. But it was run by Ni-Vanuatu, the people of Vanuatu, and so with all its modern facilities came an island calm, bright smiles, gentle words, brilliant flowers in bloom on every table, and laughter simmering just below the surface.
The vacation spot was located at the border of the native forest on a private island in the Port Villa harbor. Despite its proximity to the mainland and to her ship, Michaela felt she was a million miles away. The location had only twelve rooms, and Felicity had ensured there would be no one else from the ship there, guaranteeing that she and Dylan would have privacy.
Michaela inhaled the scent of sea air, tropical blossoms, and rich green forest and smiled. She needed this. The only question was whether Dylan would show.
No sooner had his name flickered through her mind than she saw him waiting on the small jetty. He stood, looking relaxed and almost tranquil in casual clothes. The soft white T-shirt hugged and emphasized his sculpted chest at every curve, and the camel slacks molded to his toned thighs perfectly.
He reached a tanned arm down to help her out of the boat. Usually she would have refused, priding herself on her own ability, but today her balance seemed strangely off, and as she stood on shore the ground swayed a little beneath her. “Wow, I haven’t had wobbly land legs for months,” she said. She realized with a start that she hadn’t been off the boat for the longest time.
“They’ll go soon enough.”
She laughed despite herself. “What would you know about it, hey? You, a veteran of one whole cruise.”
He ducked his head. Michaela was gratified to discover there wasn’t any of the tension she thought might be between them.
“Madam, sir, this way, please. A table has been prepared for you.” A porter had magically arrived and now guided them to a private outdoor table where a platter of fresh mango, pawpaw, and melon had been laid out. Michaela looked out over the sea at all the tiny islands stretching away under the tropical sun. The porter set up the canvas shade to their satisfaction and then melted away silently. She nibbled on a slice of succulent mango.
When they were on their own again, Michaela snuck a look at Dylan and discovered to her embarrassment that he was staring at her.
“Do I have fruit on my face?” She put a starched linen napkin up to her mouth.
“No.” He smiled. “I’m just glad to see you. You’re…” His eyes darted up and down the length of her. “You’re a wonderful sight for these sore eyes. I didn’t think you’d talk to me again.”
Michaela looked at the tablecloth, a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. She’d taken an inordinate amount of time with her appearance this morning. After ensuring the passengers were all ready to go ashore, she’d rushed back to her stateroom, showered, and smoothed a divine cocoa butter over every inch of her golden skin. Her hair had never been something she did much with—she usually scraped it back into a ponytail or pushed it under a hat. But today she had twisted it into a French knot, holding the sleek pile of hair at the nape of her neck with a simple hair comb. She’d chosen to wear a dress instead of her usual uniform, and when she’d looked at herself in the mirror this morning she’d thought it the perfect shape for her fit figure. The long dusty-pink sheath tied behind her neck and left the expanse of her back bare, gently hugging the slender width of her hips before it fell all the way to the ground.
“Should I say thank you now or wait for your full compliment?” Michaela surprised herself with the flirtatious remark.
Go, girl. Time to show him you really are the boss.
“Pardon me,” Dylan said. “What I meant to say was that you look extraordinarily beautiful today.” He smiled again, and any sardonic reply that Michaela might have hoped to make faded from her lips.
“Dylan,” she began. “We should probably talk.”
He held up a hand. “You’re right, of course, but can it wait for just a minute or two? We have all day, don’t we?”
All day. The things they could get up to with a whole day. He was right, talking could wait. Better to live a little and enjoy whatever was on offer. There was something about him, though, something deeper. She felt a current of elemental pleasure in his company that she didn’t want to acknowledge.
She would ignore it. This was about fun, remember? Fun would be enough. It would have to be. Michaela reached out a hand toward his face but quickly redirected it to the fruit platter. She didn’t know if she was quite ready for the spark of contact just yet.
They chatted about nothing for a short time, eating the fruit, admiring the view and the quiet. It was easy being with him.
“May I show you to your suite?” The porter had returned, soundlessly arriving to whisk the empty plate away.
Dylan stood and held out a hand for Michaela, a heated look on his face. She nodded, ignoring the hand, and stood to follow the porter along a beautifully manicured path to a suite that rose out of the ocean itself. She felt Dylan’s eyes on her back and found her hips swaying provocatively as she walked.
Let him have something to look forward to.
But all thoughts stopped when they arrived at the sheltered entrance to the bungalow. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she gasped and turned to give Dylan a huge grin.
“Enjoy.” The porter handed her the key, and she glanced down at it. When she looked up again, he’d disappeared.
“Ho
w do they do that?” Dylan asked. Michaela could only shrug.
Placing the key on a table, she walked around the room. Her beach bag had already been laid out, and a huge set of French doors stood open, making it feel as if the ocean had access to the room. The interior was all wood, which gave everything a warm and inviting feel. Clever hidden recesses held vases, water jugs, and fruit. The small veranda featured a tailor-made swing seat.
But the dominant feature by far was an enormous four-poster bed covered in hazy white fabric that blew tantalizingly in the warm Pacific breeze. As she stared at the bed, Michaela felt Dylan’s hot gaze on her neck, and she quickly headed for her bag. “The island is a marine reserve. I thought we could go snorkeling before lunch,” she said.
Dylan came up behind her and gently turned her by the elbow. “Sounds great,” he said. “Perhaps we should have that talk first, though. Come, sit with me a while.” He led her to an overstuffed white couch, placed to take in the spectacular views.
Michaela sat. “I’m sorry,” she said, wanting to apologize first. “I was so quick to assume it was you who had bragged about being with me, and I didn’t even give you a chance to deny it. But rather than giving up on me, you went and found out the real story and saved my entire career. I wanted to say thank you—thank you so very much for doing that for me.” She risked a look up at him from under her eyelashes, but he was gazing out at the ocean. Her confidence rose. “I guess I was a little scared.” There. She’d said it. “I was scared of losing control like that again. And I was scared of what getting involved with you could mean for everything I thought I valued.”
Dylan looked her full in the eyes. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m not going to lie to you a second time. I’ve never talked to anyone about my family before, and I appreciate that you listen—that you care. I hope you know that. We’re fully consenting adults, and what we do is no one’s business but our own.”
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