by Nora Roberts
“And first show’s at eight,” Jack finished. “Take some time to get familiar with the ship’s layout.”
• • •
Roxanne was given a Yankee Princess T-shirt in fuchsia, a name tag to pin on and a pat on the back for luck. She toured the ship, rehearsed, then toured the ship some more, answering questions, smiling, wishing passengers a good voyage.
As afternoon slid toward evening, she managed to snag an apple and a few hunks of cheese from the buffet the passengers had decimated and smuggled them into the dressing cum storage room where she and Lily were to change for the first show.
“There’s so many of them,” Roxanne said over a bite of McIntosh. “And they want to know everything.”
“Everyone’s so nice and friendly.” Lily avoided crashing into a cardboard jail cell and wriggled into costume. “Why, I met people from all over the country. It’s really like being on the road again.”
“Max likes it, doesn’t he?”
“He loves it. He already loves it.”
That was enough for Roxanne, even though she had to press a hand to her stomach as the ship rolled. “Do you think this is going to keep up?”
“What, honey?”
“The movement.” She blew out a breath, setting the apple aside to reach for her costume.
“Oh, the ship? It kind of feels like being in a cradle, doesn’t it? Nice and soothing.”
“Yeah. Right.” Roxanne swallowed hard.
She managed to get through the first show before the soothing cradle she was in had her dashing down to her cabin. She was just finished being sick when Luke walked in the tiny head.
“I locked the door,” she said with all the dignity she could muster while sitting on the floor.
“I know. It took me nearly thirty seconds to open it.”
“What I meant was, since I locked it, that probably meant I wanted to be alone.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He was busy running cool water on a washcloth. He helped her up and led her out to the bed. “Sit. Put this on the back of your neck.”
He did it himself and drew a long, grateful sigh from her. “How’d you know I was sick?”
He flicked a hand over the emerald spangles of her dress. “Your face was the same color as your costume. Dead giveaway.”
“I’m okay now.” Or she hoped she was. “I’ll get used to it.” Her eyes were a little more than desperate when she lifted them to his. “Don’t you think?”
“Sure you will.” It was a rare thing to see Roxanne Nouvelle vulnerable—so rare he had to resist an urge to gather her close and make it all go away. “Take a couple of these.” He held out two white pills.
“I don’t suppose they’re morphine.”
“Sorry. Just Dramamine. Down them with a couple of sips of this ginger ale. There you go.” As competent as a nurse, he turned the cloth over and pressed the cooler side to her neck again. “If it doesn’t let up, the ship’s doctor’ll take care of it.”
“Stupid.” More annoyed than embarrassed, she sipped more ginger ale and prayed for it to settle. “I could ride everything in the carnival and never feel a thing. One night on a boat and I’m whipped.”
“It’ll pass.” Since her color was nearly normal again, he judged it already was passing. “If you’re feeling shaky, we can cover for you in the second show.”
“No way.” She rose, willing her legs and her system to steady. “A Nouvelle never misses a cue. Give me a minute.” She retreated to the bathroom to rinse out her mouth and check her makeup. “I guess I owe you one,” she said when she came out again.
“Babe, you owe me a lot more than one. Ready?”
“Sure, I’m ready.” She opened the door, stepped out. “Luke, we don’t have to mention this, do we?”
He lifted his brows. “Mention what?”
“Okay.” She smiled at him. “I owe you two.”
Since there was no recurrence of seasickness over the next day or two, Roxanne was forced to consider that the motion of the boat had only been a contributing factor to the whole that had been made up of stress, rum on a nearly empty stomach and nerves. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant admission for a woman who had always prided herself on being able to handle anything that came her way. Her days were too full, however, to allow her to dwell on it.
Jack had been right, she decided. The majority of the work required was pure fun. She enjoyed the passengers, and the games and events scattered through the daily schedule designed to keep them entertained. The rest of her family seemed to be getting into the spirit of things as well. Max and Lily judged a dance contest, Mouse spent most of his spare time haunting the engine room and crew quarters and LeClerc found a trio of poker buddies.
The stress she hadn’t been aware of carrying on board with her began to dissipate with each passing hour. It might have faded completely if Roxanne hadn’t turned toward the stairway on the Laguna Deck and seen Max standing there, looking lost.
“Daddy?” He didn’t respond, so she stepped closer and touched his arm. “Daddy?”
He jolted, and she saw the panic streak into his eyes. In that instant, her blood froze. She saw more in his eyes than panic; she saw total confusion. He didn’t know her. He was staring into her face and he didn’t know her.
“Daddy,” she said again, unable to keep a tremor from her voice. “Are you all right?”
He blinked, a muscle working furiously in his jaw. Like a cloud slowly lifting, the confusion faded from his eyes to reveal annoyance. “Of course I’m all right. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, I thought you—” She fought a smile onto her face. “I guess you’re turned around. I keep doing that.”
“I know exactly where I’m going.” Max felt the pulse throbbing at the base of his neck. He could almost hear it. He hadn’t known. For a moment, he hadn’t been able to remember where he was or what he’d been doing. Stark fear had him snapping at his daughter. “I don’t need anyone snooping around after me. And I don’t appreciate being nagged about my every move.”
“I’m sorry.” The color ebbed from her cheeks. “I was just going up to your cabin.” There was a book tucked under his arm, she noted. A tattered, antique book on alchemy. “I certainly didn’t mean to nag.” Cloaked in injured pride, she moved stiffly around him.
A wave of shame had him reaching out. “I apologize. My mind was elsewhere.”
She merely shrugged, a distinctly female gesture that could make any man grovel.
He took out his key to open his stateroom door. Mouse, LeClerc and Luke were already waiting.
“All right, my pets.” Max pulled out the single chair that stood by the bureau, and sat. “Time to get down to business.”
“Lily isn’t here yet,” Luke pointed out, concerned when Max looked blankly around the room.
“Ah, well.”
Roxanne plunged into the uncomfortable silence.
“They’ve already got at least a dozen passengers signed up for the talent show at the end of the week. It should be a kick.”
“How much do you want to bet someone does ‘Moon River’?” Luke asked.
Roxanne was nervously rubbing her hands together, but she smiled. “No bet. I heard Mrs. Steiner tap dances. Maybe—” She paused, relieved when Lily hurried in.
“Sorry I’m late.” She was prettily flushed and weighed down with purse and camera. “They were having an ice-carving demonstration out by the pool, and I got caught up. He made the most incredible peacock.” She smiled at Max, who only gestured absently.
“All right then, what have we got?”
LeClerc linked his hands behind his back. “DiMato in cabin seven sixty-seven. Diamond earrings—probably two-carat, Rolex watch and a five- to six-carat sapphire pendant.”
“The DiMatos are the ones celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary,” Roxanne put in, plucking one of the grapes from the fruit basket on the bureau. “The pendant was her anniversary present. They’re awfully sweet together.”
<
br /> Max smiled, understanding. “Something else then?”
“Well, Mrs. Gullager in six twenty,” Roxanne offered. “A ruby set, cuff bracelet, necklace, earrings. Looks heirloom.”
“Oh, she’s the dearest thing.” Lily sent Roxanne a pleading look. “I had tea with her the other day. She lives in Roanoke, Virginia, with her two cats.”
“Another contender?” Max gestured to the room at large.
“There’s Harvey Wallace in four thirty-six.” Luke shrugged. “Diamond cuff links, stick pin, another Rolex. But . . . Shit, he’s such a funny old guy.”
“He’s nice,” Mouse put in. “He told me all about this De Soto he rebuilt in 1962.”
“Jamisons,” LeClerc said between his teeth. “Cabin seven ten. Diamond ring, square cut, approximately five carats. Ruby ring, possibly Burmese, same carat weight. Antique emerald brooch—”
“Nancy and John Jamison?” Max interrupted. “I had a delightful time playing bridge with them on the Promenade Deck just yesterday. He’s in food processing and she owns a bookstore in Corpus Christi.”
“Bon Dieu,” LeClerc muttered.
“We’re a sentimental lot, aren’t we?” Roxanne patted LeClerc’s hand. “And an embarrassment to you, I’m sure.” After choosing another grape, she folded her legs under her. “I don’t see how we can steal from people we’re all but living with day in and day out. Especially when we like them so much.”
Max steepled his hands, tapped his fingers against his chin. “You’re quite right, Roxanne. Once an emotional attachment’s made, the fun goes out of it.” He scanned the room, gauging faces. “Are we agreed then? No marks this week?”
He got a nod from everyone but LeClerc, who only ground his teeth.
“Cheer up.” Luke picked up Max’s remaining mineral water and toasted. “We’ve got the best part of six weeks. Someone’s bound to come on board we don’t like.”
“Then we’re adjourned.”
“Have you got a minute?” Luke asked Max as everyone made to leave.
“Of course.”
Luke waited until they were alone, but still took the precaution of keeping his voice low. “Why the hell are you doing this to Lily?”
Max’s mouth fell open. “I beg your pardon?”
“Damn it, Max, you’re breaking her heart.”
“That’s absurd.” Highly insulted, Max rose from the chair to pick up his book. “Where did you get such a ridiculous notion?”
“From Lily.” Too angry for respect, Luke snatched the book away and tossed it onto the bed. “She came to see me the day before we left for New York. Damn you, you made her cry.”
“I? I?” Shaken by the thought, Max sat again. “How?”
“Neglect,” Luke tossed out. “Disinterest. You’re so fucking obsessed with some magical stone, you can’t see what’s happening in front of your face. She doesn’t think you love her anymore. And after seeing the way you behaved toward her over these last couple of days, I understand just how she got the idea in her head.”
Very pale, very still, Max stared at Luke. “That is a completely asinine notion. She has no reason to doubt my feelings.”
“Really?” Luke sat on the edge of the bed, leaned forward. “When’s the last time you bothered to tell her what they are? Have you sat in the moonlight with her and listened to the sea? You know how much she counts on the little things, but have you stirred yourself to give any of them to her? Have you used this bed for anything but sleeping?”
“You go too far.” Max stiffened like a poker. “Much too far.”
“The hell I do. I’m not going to stand by and see that hurt look in her eyes. She’d crawl over glass for you, and you can’t even bother to give her ten minutes of your valuable time.”
“You’re wrong.” Max stared down at his clenched fist. “And if Lily feels as you say, she’s quite mistaken. I love her. I’ve always loved her.”
“Could have fooled me. You didn’t even look at her when she walked in here.”
“That was business,” he began, then cut himself off. He’d always prided himself on honesty, in his own way. “Perhaps I’ve been a bit distracted lately, and more than a little self-involved.” He lifted his gaze from his aching hands. “I would never hurt her. I’d cut out my own heart before I’d hurt her.”
“Tell her.” Luke turned for the door. “Not me.”
“Wait.” Max pressed his fingers to his eyes. If he’d made a mistake, he’d do whatever was necessary to correct it. The faintest smile touched his lips. And he’d correct it in style.
“I need a favor.”
The fact that Luke hesitated showed Max just how deep the temper went. And how deep his own sins. “What?”
“First, I’d like to keep this conversation between us. Second, after the last performance tonight, I’d appreciate it if you’d detain Lily, keep her away from the cabin for about thirty minutes. Then I’ll need you to be certain she comes directly here.”
“All right.”
“Luke?”
He had his hand on the door, but paused and glanced back. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. Now and again a man needs someone to make him face his shortcomings, and his blessings. You’ve done both.”
“Just make it up to her.”
“Oh, I will.” Max smiled then, fully. “That, at the very least, I can promise.”
“We done good.” Roxanne dropped heavily into a chair in the corner of the disco. The second performance of the evening had gone as successfully as the first.
“We knocked them dead.” Luke sat down, stretched out his legs. “Of course, with a crowd this age, that’s not too hard.”
Roxanne snickered. “Don’t be gruesome. Be useful and go get me and Lily drinks.”
“Oh, I think I should skip it.” Lily looked around the hotly lit room for a glimpse of Max. “You young people should enjoy yourselves.”
“No way.” Luke grabbed her hand. “You’re not ducking out on me without a dance.” He pulled her laughing out on the floor where Michael Jackson was telling everyone to beat it.
“That your competition?” Dori plopped down on Luke’s vacated chair.
“She’s a tough act to follow.”
“She’s pretty great,” Dori agreed and snagged a waitress’s attention. “I mean besides being a real sweetheart, just look at that body. Want a drink?”
“Glass of white wine,” Roxanne decided. “A pink lady for Lily and a Beck’s for Luke.”
“Make it two Becks’,” Dori said, then leaned over the table again. The music was loud, but not oppressive. There were a smattering of passengers on the dance floor gyrating to Jackson’s driving rhythm.
When their drinks were served, she said, “First round’s on me. I really like working cruise ships. Most people come on with a mind set to have fun. Makes it easier. And you get to meet so many different types. Speaking of which.” She took a deep sip of beer. “What’s the story on him?”
Roxanne glanced over to where Luke was twirling Lily under his arm. “Story?”
“I mean, he’s gorgeous, dynamic, single. Straight, right?”
Roxanne chuckled. “Definitely heterosexual.”
“So how come you haven’t jumped on it?”
Roxanne choked on her wine. “Jumped? Jumped on it?”
“Roxanne, he’s a mouth waterer.” To prove her point, Dori traced her tongue around her lips. “I’d take the leap myself except I don’t like to swim in someone else’s pool.”
After a deep breath, Roxanne shook her head. “You lost me, Dori.”
“The two of you. It’s so obvious.”
“Oh? What’s obvious?”
“There’s enough sexual friction between you to set the ship on fire.”
Since the color was fluctuating in her cheeks, Roxanne hoped it could be blamed on the flashing lights of the disco. “You’re reading it wrong.”