“Miss Clark, how surprising to see you out and about so early in the morning,” the lady said when Vanessa approached the table. “I’m Mrs. Grantham. We met last night at dinner.”
Grantham, that was her name. “Yes, I remember. How are you doing, Mrs. Grantham? Please, call me Vanessa.”
“You must call me Agnes. We don’t stand on ceremony around here. Don’t let the fancy ship intimidate you.” She gestured to the other ladies. “These are my friends, Priscilla Smith and Ruth Camden. Please, sit with us.”
Vanessa pulled out a chair across from Agnes Grantham. “Thank you. I’ll stay until your husbands arrive.” She certainly didn’t want to impose on anyone.
The group chuckled. “They won’t be coming up for a while,” Ruth Camden offered with a wide smile. “They’re old and rickety and enjoy their beds too much.” The others agreed with a round of winks and nods.
A server approached and filled Vanessa’s cup with coffee. Another server set a plate with warm rolls, European-style croissants, and a bowl of fresh-cut fruit in front of her. At the center of the table, several platters with butter, jams, Portuguese pastries, and an array of sliced cheeses and deli meats rounded up the breakfast menu.
Vanessa thanked the servers. Her stomach rumbled, and she reached for a fresh croissant.
“How did you spend your first night aboard, Vanessa?” Agnes asked her.
“Very comfortably.” It wasn’t the bed’s fault she’d spent half the night thinking about the captain.
Ruth signaled the closest server and asked for another pot of tea. She then turned to Vanessa. “Is this your first holiday in Portugal?”
Her friend added, “What do you think of the ship so far?”
Vanessa swallowed a bite of fluffy crust and savory butter. Was it that obvious? She turned to Ruth. “Yes, it’s my first time in Portugal.” Then she addressed Priscilla. “It’s a very impressive ship, and I’m looking forward to the trip up the river. I’ve read it’s a beautiful itinerary.” What else could she say? That her grandfather had practically forced her to come?
“Oh, it is. We come back every year and love it,” said Agnes. The other ladies nodded in agreement.
Vanessa looked up from her plate. “You’ve done this trip before?”
“Oh yes. We’ve been taking this trip for a few years,” said Priscilla.
Agnes nodded. “It’s a tradition.”
“In England we’re too busy with grandchildren, Friends of the Library, the Botanical Society, and myriad other things.” Agnes gestured at her friends and their respective activities. “So we take this trip once a year to spend time with one another.” She smiled and her friends nodded and smiled in return.
“Every year?” Vanessa asked.
“Well, there was one year we took a cruise of the French Riviera, but it wasn’t quite the same.” Ruth shook her head.
“Don’t get us wrong,” Agnes rushed to add. “It was very nice, but it didn’t quite suit us. So we returned to Gold River Cruises the following year.”
“Captain Romano is the best,” Priscilla said.
Vanessa looked between the three of the them. “You mean you take this very trip every year with the same ship and captain?”
“Oh yes. It wouldn’t be the same without Captain Romano and his crew, now would it?” Agnes took a sip of tea, her eyes softening into a contented expression.
Vanessa didn’t have a reply. She’d met the captain only yesterday and already he occupied more space in her thoughts than she ought to give him. Not that he knew about it, and she intended to keep it that way.
“And you, dear? How did you discover this cruise?” The curious look on Agnes’s face mirrored that of her friends.
“It was a gift.” Vanessa set her glass down. “From my grandfather.”
“Has he taken the trip before, then?” Priscilla asked.
“Yes, I think so.” Did the river cruise company’s president take the trip? She didn’t know Grandfather well enough to understand how he ran his company or his life.
The ladies squared their shoulders and looked up at someone behind Vanessa.
“Good morning, ladies.”
The deep, familiar voice sounded over her right shoulder, and Vanessa turned to see Captain Romano standing by the neighboring chair. He greeted each lady by her surname and spent a few moments asking pertinent questions about each one. The English ladies smiled and cooed at him, and Vanessa suppressed a smile at the interchange.
He turned to her then and nodded. “Good morning, Miss Clark.”
That voice. It resonated inside her. Vanessa sat straight in her chair and resisted the urge to smooth the flyaway hairs against her neck. She’d seen the captain just a few hours before and yet her heart beat a little faster at the sight of him, and at the sound of his smooth voice. Foolish, foolish heart.
She held his gaze and greeted him back. “Good morning, Captain Romano.” She couldn’t roll the Rs like the English ladies did. They must have practiced.
From across the table, she felt the eyes of her fellow passengers as they witnessed the exchange between her and the captain. The small group sat in silence and obvious adoration of the man. He most assuredly had a group of fans and he didn’t seem to mind the attention.
“You’re too kind, Captain Romano, to take the time to greet us,” said Agnes. “We know how busy you are this morning.”
He pulled his attention away from Vanessa and looked at Agnes Grantham. “True, we are busy, but not so much that I can’t say hello to my favorite group of passengers.” The ladies tittered, and he gave them a half smile.
His eyes touched Vanessa’s. More of a flick than a true look, and she’d have missed it if she hadn’t been looking at him. Did he mean to include her in the remark about his favorites?
“Besides, we have all the procedures down to a routine,” he added. “We’ll be leaving soon after lunch and on schedule.”
*
So much for being on schedule. Matias hurried down the service staircase to the lower deck and quickly walked the length of the straight hall leading to the galley. When he arrived, the head chef and the cruise director stood in front of each other talking at the same time in very unfriendly terms.
He held his hands up and they stopped. “Ladies, what’s going on?”
They both knew better than to need his help sorting anything out. Miguel could roll the ship out of the dock just as well as Matias could, but the passengers expected the captain to be at the helm, and Matias always did what the passengers wanted.
Within reason.
Chef Teresa threw her hands in the air. “We had a problem with the refrigerators overnight.” Matias rose an eyebrow at her and she hurried on. “Everything’s under control, Captain. You know I can handle emergencies.”
Matias nodded at the chef. She was old enough to be his grandmother—she even shared the same name as his own grandmother—and there was pretty much nothing that intimidated her. She’d been on the crew of his former ship and since the maiden voyage of the Princess Catarina, and her years of experience as an acclaimed regional chef attracted passengers just as much as the itinerary. Besides, Matias liked her no-nonsense attitude.
“What I can’t handle is people interfering in my kitchen when they don’t—”
Miss Rialto interrupted. “I’m only doing my job, Captain. If there will be changes to the menu, I need to know what those are beforehand.” She was the youngest cruise director he’d worked with, and this was her third trip on his crew. So far, he liked her sense of rapport with the passengers, but he had not worked with her long enough to know how she reacted under more stressful conditions.
“Chef Teresa. Miss Rialto.” Matias looked at each woman in turn. “We all know that both of you are capable professionals. I don’t see a reason why you can’t work this problem out between the two of you.”
“Yes, Captain.” They nodded at him and glanced askance at each other. He turned around and left. T
hey’d keep busy this morning. Chef Teresa had lunch and dinner to worry about, and Miss Rialto was taking the passengers on a city excursion around Porto after breakfast.
Despite the three-deck climb, he avoided the elevator and took the stairs quickly. Breakfast was now in full swing in the dining room, and he greeted the passengers he passed in the reception area on their way to be seated. His eyes lingered for a moment, searching for a certain face but she wasn’t there. Matias placed his attention back on getting to the bridge on time.
Miguel and the other two junior officers waited for him to go over the schedule. Pedro and Jaime took turns relieving Matias and Miguel in the bridge as necessary, and since they had other duties as well, it was crucial to coordinate their shifts and go over the on-board protocols.
The internal phone rang and he took it. “This is Captain Romano in the bridge.”
“This is Chef Teresa in the kitchen.” Her voice came over fast and flustered. “Captain, I need you to authorize the coming of a repairman aboard.”
Matias gripped the phone tighter. “I thought you said you had everything under control.”
“I thought I did, sir, but the main refrigerator needs a new thermostat before I lose all the prep for today and tomorrow morning.” She took a breath. “I already found a guy who has the part, and he can be here in half an hour. I just need you to authorize his coming aboard.”
“Yes, I’ll call the receptionist.”
“Thank you, Captain.” The relief in her voice was obvious.
“Chef Teresa, will this part take care of the problem for the rest of the trip?”
“Yes, Captain, it will.” She sounded weary, and Matias made a mental note to go see her in the kitchen after the lunch rush.
He called reception and let them know a repairman was coming aboard soon.
After the meeting on the bridge, Matias stood on the port side of the sun deck and watched the passengers as they went ashore for the excursion. Three charter buses waited up the street from the dock to take everyone on the two-hour tour through the city.
Miss Clark was among them. The last of the early-morning fog had finally burned off, and she was dressed for the warmer weather. A wide-brimmed hat adorned her head, her hair caught at the nape of her neck. She wore oversized sunglasses, white, cropped pants, and a navy top with white stripes—a definite nod to the nautical theme. Most likely, the outfit was purposeful. She didn’t seem to be the kind of girl who left things to chance. She was too assertive for that.
She stood to the side of the group, and when Miss Rialto gestured at the ship, Miss Clark turned to look as the others did. Matias waved at them, and they returned the gesture, nodding at Miss Rialto’s words of caution. He knew the script, and this was the part where she warned the passengers about keeping close to the group and making it back on time.
Before circling the closest bus, Miss Clark raised her fingers and touched the brim of her hat in his direction, and he could imagine her lips pulled in a teasing smile even if he couldn’t see them.
Matias shook his head and chuckled. Sassy was the word that came to mind. She was sassy and well aware of it. Most likely proud as well.
This would be an interesting trip.
Matias exited his cabin and closed the door behind him. It was lunch time. The passengers had returned from the excursion a half hour ago and should have now been in the dining room for the lunch buffet. Precisely an hour later, Matias would pull the ship from the dock and commence the cruise up the river Douro.
This was the exciting part for him—something he never tired of. He loved to see the expressions on the passengers’ faces as they watched the landscape change with the ship’s progression, the steady pressure of the prow on the water as it gently cut a path between the depth buoys on both sides of the river.
“Captain Romano.” Miss Rialto called him as he reached the stairs to the main deck.
He nodded at her. “Yes, I know. I’m on my way to the dining room.”
He moved toward the first step, but she blocked his path. “May I have a word with you, Captain?”
Matias arched an eyebrow. “Right now? Is this a pressing matter, or can it wait?”
“I’m afraid it’s urgent, Captain.”
Matias walked around the staircase where they’d be out of prying eyes but still in a public area. “Well?” he urged.
Miss Rialto took a breath. “I can’t seem to locate Miss Clark, the young American.”
“Yes, I know who Miss Clark is. What do you mean, you can’t locate her? Didn’t she go ashore with the excursion?”
“Yes, she did.” Miss Rialto looked away at the staircase and then back at the carpeted floor.
“And didn’t she return with everybody else? She should be in the dining room having lunch with the rest of the passengers.”
She shifted her weight. “She got on bus number three but I can’t remember seeing her return aboard the Princess Catarina.”
A sense of dread froze the pit of Matias’s stomach. “What do you mean, you don’t remember her boarding?”
“I’m afraid I was distracted with Mr. and Mrs. Smith and can’t remember if Miss Clark came aboard when we arrived.”
The back of his neck broke in a cold sweat, and the air conditioning vent directly above him blew his skin into gooseflesh. “Did you check in the dining room?” He turned to the staircase. “Tell me on the way there.”
Miss Rialto nodded. “She’s not in the dining room or in the lounge.”
“What about her cabin?”
Had Miss Clark left the ship as she’d hinted at the day before? Matias had seen her at early breakfast, and she hadn’t said anything about leaving.
When he and Miss Rialto reached the upper deck, Matias asked for a master key card from the receptionist. They walked to Miss Clark’s cabin and knocked on the door.
At the lack of response, he handed the key card to Miss Rialto. “Open the door and go in, please.” She hesitated, and he pushed it into her hand. “Call out if you find anything.”
Miss Rialto entered the cabin and called out for Miss Clark, but no one replied. Matias stood at the open doorway and rubbed at the back of his neck.
Miss Clark was an adult and free to leave if she’d wanted, but what would he tell her grandfather?
After a few minutes, Miss Rialto appeared back at the door and opened it wide. “She’s not here.”
“What about her belongings?”
“Everything appears to be in order. The suitcase is at the bottom of the closet and her clothes are hanging inside. She also has toiletries in the bathroom.”
So Miss Clark hadn’t planned to leave the ship, unless she’d purposefully left her things behind, which was unlikely.
“Miss Rialto, go to the dining room and carry on as usual. I’ll take over this.”
She hesitated for a moment but then nodded and took the stairs down to the main deck.
Matias called for Jaime and Pedro and within minutes the three of them started a search of all the common areas on the ship, moving to the crew-only areas afterward. They didn’t find her. He sent them back to their duties and returned to the bridge.
“Nothing?” Miguel asked when Matias entered the small space which also served as the captain’s office.
Matias shook his head. “Unless she’s hiding in someone else’s cabin, which she has no reason to do.”
Miguel looked at the round clock on the wall behind them. “Lunch will be over soon.”
“Well, I can’t delay the departure on account of one passenger.” Even if the passenger was the company president’s granddaughter.
Some of the passengers who had finished lunch had trickled up to the sun deck, and they sat on the lounge chairs under the awning and in the sun. Matias hurried down to the dining room. He ate there for most meals, but he was short on time since he’d been searching for Miss Clark, and planned to get a plate to go and eat it at the bridge.
The room was still half-full
, with several people lingering in conversation over their desserts and espressos. Miss Rialto sat at a table with a couple he hadn’t met yet, maps and brochures amid the dessert plates and coffee cups. Most likely, they were first timers and had questions about the itinerary and daily excursions. Some passengers always required a little more hand-holding than others did, and it was the job of the cruise director and the excursion guides to provide whatever support they asked for.
As Matias turned to exit the dining room, Miss Clark walked in through the doors. They stopped a few paces away from each other.
She offered a half smile and pointed at his plate. “Am I too late for lunch?”
He looked at her for a long moment, a firm grip on the covered plate of food in his hand. She’d changed into a long, flowy skirt and a tank top, her hair held back by a headband. Her freckled shoulders stood out in contrast to the light fabric lending her skin a healthy glow.
A million questions ran through his mind, but this was not the place or time for it. “No, Miss Clark, you’re not too late for lunch.”
She smiled. “Good. I’m hungry.” She took a step toward the buffet.
“Miss Clark, will you please meet me at the bridge in one hour?” He had to find out why she’d left the group.
She halted, her forehead wrinkled in little folds between her eyebrows. Even in a confused state, she was still attractive.
Matias stopped himself and the direction of his thoughts. If anything, he was irritated at her and he wanted to know where she’d been for the past few hours. He didn’t need to notice her charming qualities, physical or otherwise.
Not waiting for her reply, he left for the upper deck.
Once there, he shed his jacket and hung it on the hanger behind the door. He ate quickly, then he and Miguel ran the departure checklist, and within minutes the Princess Catarina pulled away from the dock and commenced her ascent up the River Douro. Only ten minutes behind schedule. Matias let out a slow breath.
Miss Rialto’s voice came over the PA system as she recited the script about the history of the city of Porto and the River Douro, giving particular attention to the six bridges as they passed under them. He knew all the words by heart and could recite them just as well as she did.
Meet Me At Sunrise (Destined for Love: Europe) Page 3