Ship of Dreams (Dreams Come True Series Book 2)

by Rebecca Heflin

  “The night’s still young.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  Something fluttered in her chest. Heartburn, maybe? “Are you saying you want us to see one another? After what happened on the ship?”

  He drew in a breath. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “But we’re in a head-to-head battle for the same account. You called me a liar, you accused me of orchestrating the entire thing.”

  He placed his hand over her mouth, cutting her off. “I know. I was angry. Once I had a clear head I knew how ridiculous the whole thing was.” He moved his hand from her mouth. “Having said that, don’t think I plan to back off my pursuit of Imperial.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to, and I would hope you wouldn’t expect me to either.”

  He sighed. “No. I wouldn’t expect that.”

  Silence filled the room.

  “I didn’t know who you were,” Laura said into the darkness. “I thought Greg was from Hawk Media.”

  It was his turn to draw back in surprise. “Greg, the travel critic?”

  “Is that what he was?”

  Nathan laughed. “Yes, he writes for The New York Times. He cornered me one afternoon, I think you were in the spa, and asked me about my experience on the ship. Nice guy. Tough critic.”

  “If you were so angry with me, why did you take out the purse snatcher?”

  He squeezed her. “That took a year off my life. When I saw the guy with a knife, I tried to get to you, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

  She shuddered against him.

  He grazed his fingers along her ribs to the slightly raised scar. “And when I realized he’d cut you, well, I wanted to hunt him down and pound his face into mincemeat.”

  “But you hated me.”

  “No. I didn’t hate you. I was angry at you, but the fact is I would have done that for anyone.”

  “Oh.” Laura was hard-pressed to explain the disappointment that settled in her chest at his response.

  “Let alone you . . . someone I cared about.”

  Laura twisted to face him. “You cared about me?”

  He nodded. “Still do, obviously.”

  She was silent for a few beats as she gazed into his eyes. “So what do we do now?”

  “That all depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you want to see me again.”

  “Yes. I do. But we have to set new rules.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “I think it was the old rules that got us into trouble in the first place. If we’d shared more about our personal lives, we’d have found out sooner and in a more honest straightforward way that we were both going after the Imperial account. And maybe handled it as adults instead of like two kids fighting over the same toy.”

  “Maybe. But Nathan, we’re working for competing agencies, we’re sleeping together, we have to be careful.”

  “Okay. What are the rules?”

  “Rule Number One: No discussing Imperial.”

  “Goes without saying. Next.”

  “Rule Number Two: We have to keep this”—she pointed between them—“our secret.”

  He thought about the promise he’d made to Hawk. Guilt settled in his chest. “Agree. Rule Number Three: No Jack.”

  “But, we’re just friends.”

  “No Jack,” he repeated.

  “Fine. Rule Number Four: When the pitch is over and the winning agency is announced, no hard feelings, and we’ll reassess our, um, relationship then.”

  “And may the best man—”

  “Or woman,” Laura interjected.

  “Or woman, win.”

  “Deal.” Laura stuck out her hand.

  Nathan took her hand in his. “Deal.”

  “That was frighteningly easy,” Laura pointed out.

  “Yeah. Now we can have more make-up sex.”

  They’d managed to make it to her bedroom for the next round, and she’d managed to get him out of his clothes. As she lay against him, her legs entangled with his, his even breathing signaling sleep, she wondered at her desire to not only reignite their fling, but to have a fling with a man who would be competing against her for an account that could lead to the next step in her Life Plan.

  Then she thought about how good it felt to curl up beside him, feel his warmth, touch his skin, smell his spicy, masculine scent. She sighed in contentment.

  Contentment. A new word for her. A feeling so alien to her that she almost didn’t recognize it. But now that she had it, she could understand its appeal.

  She’d always been striving for the next thing, always moving forward. Never really taking the time to enjoy the present, what she’d achieved thus far. Once she’d accomplished a goal, she looked ahead to the next one. And the one after that. Restless. Yeah, that was a familiar word.

  Maybe it was time to savor the moment.

  Nathan shifted, wrapping an arm around her in his sleep. Her limbs heavy, languorous, she drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning, Nathan walked around the apartment, thinking how it suited Laura. Elegant, understated, and most of all, expensive. That pretty much summed it up. And the view! Spectacular!

  But he was more interested in the personal side of Laura Armstrong. Wandering over to an ebony bookcase along the back wall of the living room, he picked up a photo of Laura with two other women. One with long golden brown hair smiling into the camera, a glass of champagne lifted as if in a toast, the other, a brunette, he thought. It was difficult to tell with her hair pulled back from her face. Brown glasses, which matched the rest of her brown wardrobe, framed intelligent eyes that stared into the camera with a look of disdain.

  He moved down the bookcase to another photo of Laura with the same two women. At least he thought it was the same two. The brunette in this photo was attractive, not quite beautiful, but with an interesting face and sparkling brown eyes. Her lips turned up softly at the corners. If it was the same woman, it was quite a transformation. Amazing what a smile, however slight, could do. The one with the golden brown hair wore a wedding gown and a dreamy expression.

  Returning the photo to the shelf, he picked up another one with Laura dressed in the Red-Carpet-worthy silver evening gown he’d come across on his Google search, a nice-looking guy standing next to her, his arm around her waist. Nathan felt an irrational stab of jealousy. A previous lover?

  Next to that he saw the same guy wearing a morning coat pressing a kiss to the bride’s cheek. Ah, so he must be the lucky groom. Relieved, the sting of jealousy fled.

  Noticeably absent from the photos scattered around the living room were her family. He knew what her father looked like, and her younger brother, and that her mother was still living and married to her father, but none of the photos resembled these people.

  Remembering her grandmother’s actions, his heart ached for her.

  He may not have had the best family. An anonymous father. An absentee mother. But he had photos of her, along with photos of his sister and his grandmother. They may have been a nontraditional family, but they’d been tight-knit just the same.

  How could her family not see what an amazing woman she was? Cherish that? Encourage that? He shook his head at their perplexing behavior.

  Laura found him standing in front of her dining room window gazing out at Central Park below. She could just eat him up. His hair rumpled, his tux shirt wrinkled where she’d shoved it up to get her hands on his torso. When he turned to her, the day’s growth of beard made her want to take his face in her hands and rub her cheek against it.

  “Morning,” he said in a lazy drawl, as a slow grin spread across his face.

  “Morning.” For some reason she felt awkward, like this was her first sleepover. She wrapped her skimpy robe around her. “I have coffee, but I’m not sure what I can offer you for breakfast.”

  His lips lifted into a smile. “It’s okay. I’ve got to get going anyway. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.” />
  Yeah. With only two weeks until the pitch, she had work to do, too.

  He approached her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know the next two weeks will be busy for both of us, so no pressure. Just let me know when you want to get together again.”

  She nodded. “Sorry about the walk of shame,” she said with a smile.

  “No shame in it for me. I spent the night with a beautiful, sexy woman. Where’s the shame in that?” Stepping into her, he pressed his lips to hers.

  She leaned against him, her fingers curled in his already-wrinkled tux shirt. When he retreated, she followed him, wanting more.

  Chuckling, he pressed another kiss to her mouth.

  “I’ll see you later, sugar.”

  Picking his jacket up from the sofa, he draped it over his arm, flashed her another grin, and left.

  Chapter 19

  The next week and a half passed in a blur of long days and steamy nights. When she and Nathan weren’t together, they were sexting one another or carrying on naughty phone conversations. The clandestine nature of their relationship raised the stakes and the excitement.

  They avoided work-related conversations, but it became increasingly difficult for her. Something that surprised her. But if there was anyone who could understand her crazy, stressful, fun world, it was Nathan, and she longed to share the stories with him.

  Instead, they’d begun to share a little about each other. One night, Nathan brought up her contentious relationship with her father. A topic she preferred not to discuss.

  “Come on, sugar, help me understand what I saw on the golf course that day. You know what they say, getting it off your chest will make you feel better.”

  They’d just finished a late dinner she’d had delivered from one of her favorite restaurants and were sitting back enjoying their wine. Throwing back a mouthful of wine, she took a deep breath.

  “Fine. My father and I have never had what people would call a loving relationship. I think my lack of a penis disappointed him.”

  Nathan snorted. “Well, I, for one, am not disappointed by that missing organ.”

  She couldn’t suppress the laugh. His humor had already taken the edge off the conversation.

  “When I was twelve years old, I tried out for and won a place on the school debate team. Up until that time, my father had shown me nothing more than indifference. He never came to any of my events, whether they were sporting events or not. I was captain of the volleyball and basketball teams—”

  “I could see that.”

  “Academic events like spelling bees, or even parent-teacher conferences. He was always too busy, or more likely just couldn’t be bothered. Anyway, he finally came to my first debate. God only knows why.”

  She took another sip of wine, followed by another calming breath, the moment so fresh and vivid in her mind, it was as if she were reliving it. “I stood at the podium to debate the pros of banning smoking in public places. My nerves jangled, but the butterflies only added to the excitement. I felt confident in my research and in my arguments in support of the ban, and my coach told me I had a voice made for public speaking.

  “Then I saw my father walking down the aisle to take a seat next to my mother near the front. I didn’t expect to see him, and now that he was there, those butterflies turned into an angry hive of killer bees.

  “The moderator announced my name and told me I could begin. The notes in my hands blurred. I swallowed, trying to get a grip on my nerves. The audience grew restless, and the moderator said my name again. Taking a deep breath, I began with my opening comments, but the words were coming out all wrong. Jumbled. I took a moment to collect myself and started again.

  “After a few more stumbles, I saw my father rise from his seat, glare in my direction, and stalk out of the school auditorium, leaving students and parents muttering in his wake.”

  She huffed out a laugh devoid of humor. “I finally recovered enough composure to complete my arguments, but not without feeling like a dismal failure.

  “As if his public disgust weren’t enough, later that evening, after the ever-painful family dinner, I overheard my father telling my mother, “‘Well, Cherise,’” she mimicked her father’s brash voice, “‘that’s quite a daughter you’ve given me. Can’t even stand up and read from her own notes. And you wonder why I’ve never come to any of her activities. So I can sit there and watch her monumental failure? I’ve got better things to do with my time. Never mind being an object of ridicule at the country club. Never again. Mark my words. That girl will never amount to anything.’”

  She swore she’d never tell anyone about that. Not even Darcy knew. She closed her eyes in shame.

  “I wanted to believe that my father thought I was out of hearing, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility that he wouldn’t have cared even if he had known I was listening.”

  She’d cried herself to sleep that night. But the next morning, she swore she’d be the best at everything she undertook from then on. With or without her father’s support. And she’d never let a man make her cry again.

  After that, every triumph, every A+, every volleyball match or basketball game won, every debate won, bolstered her self-esteem. And with every win, the exhilaration of the hunt, and the thrill of the kill fed her soul. But nothing she did ever won not only her father’s love, but his respect.

  “Thank God for Darcy’s parents,” she continued. “They were there to cheer me on as if I were their own child. I’m sure their love and support was the only thing that kept me from becoming a serial killer.”

  Their loyalty to her, and to one another, taught her how important it was to have a few very close friends in her life. But the lack of her parents’ support taught her if she wanted to succeed in anything, she’d have to do it on her own. And that was what she’d done.

  She’d never been in love. Never let herself fall. And she didn’t need a psychoanalyst to tell her why she craved attention from men, primarily those with no depth. And why she went from sexual fling to sexual fling, without regard for developing any kind of long-term relationship. Until now. Until Nathan.

  “I watched my father stop at nothing to win. To stomp out their competitors, to intimidate their suppliers, to win the Navy’s bids. But I didn’t want to win that way.” She looked Nathan straight in the eye, and continued. “I’d no more sleep with someone to win their business, than I would stab a competitor in the back.”

  As Nathan gazed into her eyes, witnessed the pain he saw there, he wanted to slit his own throat for causing her even more pain. He reached out for her hand and, taking it in his, brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry. I should never have jumped to that conclusion.”

  “I suppose it was a valid conclusion to jump to.”

  “No. There’s no excuse.”

  This explained so much. The next time he saw Milton he’d be hard-pressed not to kick him in the teeth. Or better yet, the nuts.

  “And now you know the whole sordid story of the dysfunctional Armstrong father-daughter relationship.”

  “Sugar, the only dysfunction there applies to your father. Come here.” He gestured to his lap. Once she’d settled there, he took her face in his hands. “Despite it all, or maybe because of it all, you turned into a strong, independent, sexy woman who’s not afraid to carve her own path. For that, you should be proud.”

  As they cleared away the dishes, Nathan’s phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he frowned. The number was unknown to him but the area code was his sister’s.

  Seeing his frown, Laura asked, “Everything okay?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll tell you in a minute. Hello.” Nathan dropped back into his chair.

  “Is this Nathan Maxwell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nathan, you probably don’t remember me, but we were in high school together. I’m Nadine Hendrix.”

  “I remember you, Nadine.”

  “I’m a nurse now at Darla General Hospital, and, well, your sister is he
re.”

  Nathan stood up, startling Laura, who placed her hand on his chest, an expression of alarm on her face.

  “Is she okay? What happened? Was there an accident?”

  “No. She came in with acute right flank pain and vomiting. She’s being evaluated now, but at this point it’s hard to know whether it’s appendicitis or possibly kidney stones until we do more tests. She wanted me to call you.”

  Nathan glanced at his watch and paced away. Too late to get a flight out tonight. “Dammit, I probably can’t get there until tomorrow. Tell her, tell her I love her and to hang in there. I’ll be there soon.”

  He hung up and turned to Laura. “I have to go. I have to get a flight out first thing in the morning.”

  “Nathan, what’s wrong?”

  “Amanda’s in the hospital, and they’re not sure what’s wrong.”

  With the pitch only a week away, he sure as hell didn’t need to be flying off to Georgia, but it couldn’t be helped. He’d call Hawk first thing. He was a family man. He’d understand. He hoped.

  Nathan stared out the window. “I can’t lose her. She’s all I have left.”

  Nathan’s gruff voice tugged at Laura’s heart. She was no good at times like this. She never knew what to say or what to do. Taking his face in her hands, she spun him to face her.

  “Everything will be okay. You’re not going to lose her.” Pressing her mouth to his in a tender kiss, she was shocked by the depth of emotions she felt for him. “Let’s book our flights.”

  “Our?”

  “Of course. I’m not going to let you go alone. You’re too upset.” She walked away before he could see how much his distress affected her.

  “But, you’ve got the pitch.”

  “So do you.”

  “But she’s my family. Why would you do that?”