She leaned away from the railing and turned partially to him. “Just trying to determine how well you know my grandfather.”
“Yes, you asked me that earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t reply.” They’d been interrupted by another passenger needing help, as he was so often during meals.
Matias took a quick breath and braced himself for more questions. He didn’t know what to expect from her and it made him uneasy. The reaction was new to him, but she was more than a simple passenger, and it would serve him well not to forget the connections she had. “I have met your grandfather on several occasions since I started working at the company.”
She turned away from him and let out a long sigh. “Probably more times than I have.” Her words came out quick and low, and maybe not intended for him to hear.
“Is there a problem?” He paused and made eye contact.
“Not a problem exactly.” She looked away and drummed her fingers along the rail.
“Is there something you’re not happy with, Miss Clark?” They hadn’t even departed, and already she had complaints. Usually he left the passenger-related matters to his cruise director, but not this one. She was in his hands, whether he liked it or not. “I know you’re probably used to more personal service, but if you give us a chance, you might be pleasantly surprised.”
Miss Clark’s eyebrows knit in a scowl, but she didn’t comment right away. After a long moment, she asked, “Are all the cabins as large as mine?”
“Excuse me?”
“The cabin assigned to me. Is that the standard cabin size?” She fidgeted with a length of hair, and when his eyes turned to it, she dropped it and flicked it behind her back.
The gesture lasted only a few seconds, but he lost his train of thought as it latched onto the woman in front of him. Matias struggled to resume their strange conversation. “Actually,” he shook his head. “Uh, no. Your cabin is one of two deluxe cabins on the ship. We refer to them as the grand cabins, and they’re reserved for our VIP passengers.”
It was her turn to shake her head. “He did it, didn’t he? He put me in that cabin?”
This conversation was turning more bizarre each minute. “If there’s a problem with your cabin, I’ll ask Miss Rialto to look into it. She’s our cruise director, and I’ll introduce you if you haven’t had the chance to meet her. Your grandfather requested you stay in that particular cabin since it’s the largest and best on the ship, and I have an obligation—”
Her eyes went wide. “Obligation? Obligation to what?”
Not to what, to whom. Her, to be exact. Matias didn’t reply.
“To me, isn’t it? You were going to say you have an obligation to me, weren’t you?”
Matias flinched at her words and the way she’d read his mind. He rubbed his forehead. “It’s not like how you make it sound.” He forced his eyes to her. “Yes, I have an obligation toward you but it’s the obligation I have toward all the passengers on board as well as my crew. I am the captain, after all.”
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, and Matias pressed on. “Your grandfather only wanted to make sure you have the best experience on this trip and even you can’t fault him for that.” Matias knew from his own research that she was his only grandchild.
“I’m sure he did.” She shook her head lightly, and her shoulders slumped even more, as if something weighed on her. “I don’t need a babysitter, Captain. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman.”
He’d noticed all right. More than he wished to, but he wouldn’t be telling her that.
“Did he tell you why he wanted me to take this trip?” she asked.
Matias fumbled to find a reply and she waved him off. “That’s okay, I don’t want to know what he said. There’s enough drama as it is.”
It was family drama and he should stay out it. Well, most of it. He was already involved.
After a moment, she straightened and met his eyes. “At what time does the boat leave tomorrow?”
“The ship departs after lunch.” He emphasized the word to correct her. It certainly wasn’t a boat. “There’s a guided excursion in the morning.”
She bent to pick up her shoes and tucked the purse under her arm. “What are the rules about leaving?”
“Any time the ship is docked, you can leave at your leisure. But if you don’t make it back before departure, we can’t hold it for you.”
She nodded. “That’s only fair.”
As she walked past him, he cleared his throat. “Nobody will prevent you from leaving if that’s what you wish to do, but I hope you’ll consider staying, Miss Clark.” He wanted her to stay, and not just because the company’s president had asked him. Proving to her that the trip was one worth taking had become more important than he’d anticipated.
Before she reached the staircase, he called after her. “Miss Clark.”
She stopped and looked over her shoulder.
“Please be careful when you come out on the sun deck.” He looked down at her bare feet, and she followed his gaze. “Oftentimes the floor is wet and it’s easy to slip. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
She pivoted, raising her fingers in a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
The sun wasn’t up yet when Matias arrived at the bridge. He greeted his first mate and nodded at the deckhand. “Good morning.”
“Bom dia, Capitão,” the young man replied.
“You know the rule, Pedro. English only.” Matias enunciated the words slowly and clearly. The young man’s English wasn’t perfect, but it wouldn’t get any better if he didn’t use it more.
Pedro’s cheeks heated. “Yes, Captain.” He put down the tray with two coffee mugs and breakfast croissants, then left.
“You could go easy on him,” Miguel said from his chair.
“I could, but then it would take him longer to learn the language.” English was the official language for a good reason. With so many international passengers, it was easier to set the expectation that everyone speak one common language than trying to accommodate individual needs. The expectation fell onto the crew as well.
Matias looked out the window. A thick fog hid the river and the banks under its gray layers. Some of the passengers would be surprised, but he had seen fog occur at any time of the year, regardless of the warm temperatures the day before. It would dissipate as they traveled up the river, as it usually did. He reached for the day’s newspaper.
Something gray and solid moved ahead on the prow and he squinted. “Who’s that out there?”
Miguel looked up from his place at the small desk. “That would be the special passenger.” He turned back to checking the weather predictions on the iPad.
Matias’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to distinguish who the figure was.
“You know, the one you’ve been asked to keep an eye on.” Miguel kept his head down, unusually tempering his normal curiosity.
“That’s Miss Clark out there?” Matias whacked the newspaper against the nearest counter, his voice unable to hide the annoyance and surprise at seeing her outside his window this early in the morning.
He yanked at the door and walked outside the bridge, rounding the prow to where she stood. For a moment, he thought he’d find her perched on the railing, à-la-Titanic-movie, but she was firmly planted on deck and wearing appropriate shoes. He let out a breath, the relief filling his chest and putting a stop to the adrenaline that had shot through his system a minute earlier.
The woman was throwing off his balance, and he hadn’t even left the dock. He hadn’t slept well, thinking about her and their exchange of words the night before, unable to get her out of his mind. What was he going to do about her?
She glanced at him. “Good morning, Captain.”
Her cheeks and nose were red, and the top of her jacket covered the bottom half of her face up to her bottom lip. The hood flopped over her forehead, effectively hiding her long blonde hair. She looked younger than her early twenties, more vulnerable and insecure.
The contradiction to the extremely put-together woman he’d met last night was more than what he could deal with at the moment, and he pushed the curiosity away.
Matias nodded at her, then turned to the bridge and knocked at the glass to get Miguel’s attention. He pointed at the coffee carafe, and Miguel poured a cup and met him halfway.
Matias touched her arm, and when she turned toward him, he held the cup in front of her until she took it.
She rested the cup against the railing and pulled the zipper down with her left hand to uncover her mouth. Then she sipped quietly, both hands wrapped around the mug, her eyes closed in soft appreciation.
“What are you doing out here at five o’clock in the morning, Miss Clark?”
“I wanted to see the sunrise, Captain Romano.” Her breath came out in little puffs, and her voice held a small tremble.
“That’s not going to happen today.” His words sounded harsher than he intended and he cringed inside.
Miss Clark raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of the cup and kept sipping.
He softened his voice. “I mean, the sun will rise, of course, but we won’t be able to see it through the fog.” Before he lost the gumption, he continued. “Listen, Miss Clark. I wanted to apologize for my gruff words last night.”
She lowered the cup and adjusted her fingers around it. “I do too, Captain.” She kept her eyes down on the dark liquid for a moment, then raised them to him. “I mean, apologize. I was angry at my grandfather, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Anger? There was more to the story between António Valadares and his granddaughter than what Matias knew, and he probably should keep it that way.
“And I shouldn’t have reacted so poorly. I’m sorry.” The tightness in his chest eased a bit as he voiced the apology. He always kept his behavior professional toward his passengers, and he would treat her the same way.
Miss Clark’s expression relaxed, and her eyes locked on his. She was taller than most women he knew, and the short distance between them put her nearly to eye level with him. She had green eyes framed by long light-brown eyelashes, and a few freckles dotted her skin on the bridge of her nose. No make-up this morning. Just delicate, creamy skin and eyes the color of the river on a winter day.
For a moment, a prick of interest niggled at him. What was she like in her day-to-day life? What did she do for fun? And why was she on this trip when she obviously hadn’t chosen to come?
He occasionally wondered about a passenger on a personal level, but only in passing and seldom with the intent to truly know more. But this situation was different. His questions went beyond superficial interest this time.
It didn’t help that she was young and attractive, and it had been a long time since Matias had given himself permission to think about a woman and the possibility of going out on a date. Fortunately, he had enough responsibilities to keep him physically busy and emotionally unavailable.
If only his thoughts were as easy to direct.
* * *
Vanessa looked away from Captain Romano’s chocolate-colored eyes.
What had just happened? Yesterday they’d been short and almost rude with each other, and now, after offering apologies, something had passed between them: something warm, zingy, and unexpected. Something totally unrelated to the coffee in her hands.
He took a step back and she did the same. Good. More distance between them was what she needed. Standing near the broad-shouldered captain with the deep brown eyes and the sexy voice muddled her thoughts. She had to get away from him and clear her head.
Vanessa tipped the cup and drank the rest of the coffee the captain had brought her earlier, most likely from his own pot.
“Was this your coffee?” She held the cup to him and he took it.
“We keep a carafe well filled.”
She slipped her hands into the kangaroo pocket of her jacket. “Thank you for sharing. I underestimated the weather this morning.”
“You’re welcome. And you’re not the only passenger who didn’t expect to see fog in the summer.”
They stood in silence for a minute, watching the rolling wisps of gray as if they’d part to reveal the city on the other side. Vanessa peered at the captain, but, just like the fog that hid everything around them, his face disclosed nothing of his thoughts.
A tap sounded on the window, and they turned to see the other crewman motioning to the phone. Captain Romano nodded back at him.
“It looks like you’re needed.” Vanessa tipped her head toward the bridge.
“After you.” He gestured for her to walk ahead of him. “By the way, good choice on footwear.”
Vanessa stood there for a moment as he entered the bridge, a faltering smile on her face at the unexpected comment.
When she arrived at her cabin, she fell back on the wide bed and kicked off her shoes. They weren’t exactly traditional deck shoes but more of a crossbreed, with a ballerina-flat shape and solid rubber soles. No slipping on the sun deck in these babies. And they were red, which she loved.
Even better, Captain Romano approved of her choice. It shouldn’t matter that he did, but the happy feeling inside her wouldn’t abate, even when she tried to force it to go. After a short moment, she gave up the fight. When was the last time a man complimented her? Nothing came to mind. She’d had a few dates in college, but the compliments had seldom sounded sincere. Compared to the captain, those guys had only been overgrown boys who mostly wanted one thing from her. Captain Romano was older, but there was something about him that went beyond age and maturity: something intriguing and attractive.
She shook her head. It was pathetic. She was pathetic. A man had offered her a compliment and there she went setting him up as the yardstick of perfection by which all other males had to be measured. Had she been like this on campus? No wonder she’d gone out on only five dates in the four years she’d lived in Kansas City for her degree.
She pulled off her hoodie and sat cross-legged against the tufted headboard. Her cabin was immense and luxurious like everything else on the ship. The king bed was a guilty pleasure, too large for a single girl who wouldn’t be sharing it with anyone else. She’d stretched in all directions the night before, not even coming close to the edge. Even the bathroom was built for a couple, with double shower heads, double vanities, double fluffy, ultra-white towels. Was she supposed to use both sets of towels or only one?
Outside the wide French doors, on a narrow balcony, two chairs flanked a small table. Maybe later, when the sun shone to the west, she’d sit outside and gaze at the city of Porto, putting her feet up on the second chair.
The memory of her bedroom in her tiny apartment back home sprang to mind, so much smaller than this cabin and certainly lacking all the amenities this one boasted. Everything she’d left in Kansas was clouded in uncertainty—a foreign feeling after living there all her life—and she still had a hard time reconciling the only reality she’d ever known with her new privileged circumstances.
But who wouldn’t? She’d gone to bed one night counting her pennies for the rest of the month, and she’d woken up to find out she was a Portuguese heiress. If there was an easy way to adjust to that, no one had told her. The position didn’t come with a manual. Furthermore, Dad hadn’t wanted her to come and Grandfather now wanted her to stay. And she didn’t know what she wanted.
Vanessa suppressed a laugh. Just a few weeks ago she’d been watching the sun set over the Kansas plains, as she’d done as long as she could remember. But that was a whole world away and harder and harder to remember with each day spent in Portugal.
All thanks to Grandfather who was responsible for the drastic change in her life. He actually saw himself as the hero who’d rescued her from her pitiful existence in Kansas. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to commend him for it or for anything else, not after all the anxiety and confusion he’d caused for the past weeks.
Like this trip he’d sent her on and the captain he’d asked to spy on her.
There she was, thinking of the captain again. Vanessa pulled out her phone. It was too early for breakfast, and she didn’t want to call down to the kitchen, even if the crew thought of her as a VIP passenger. Such a strange situation to be in.
Vanessa pulled up the search engine on her smart-phone and typed Captain Romano and Princess Catarina. The links and pictures came up immediately. She followed a link to Gold River Cruises, Grandfather’s company, where Captain Matias Romano had been working for the past sixteen years, according to the information she read. Another page pointed to a small entry about the captain himself: Ernesto Matias da Silva Romano, age thirty-one, born in Porto, Portugal. His parents were briefly mentioned, but there was nothing about a wife or children. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that was hardly a reliable indication of his present marital status.
On the company’s website, a picture of the Princess Catarina at the christening ceremony three years ago showed Captain Romano next to a striking woman who had long black hair and wore a red cocktail dress. Maybe he did have a wife after all and she was very selective about her public appearances.
Vanessa blew out a breath and put the phone to sleep. It didn’t matter if the captain was married. That had nothing to do with his job and certainly less to do with her. Didn’t Dad always say that too much interest was almost as bad as too little expectation? Vanessa had learned the hard way, expecting as much of others as she did of herself. The disappointment was hard to take at times. She hadn’t learned to curb her curiosity either.
The phone rattled against the surface of the bedside table. Vanessa swiped at the screen and groaned when Dad’s number showed up. She hesitated for a second before accepting the call.
“Vanessa. About time,” Dad said by way of greeting.
She sat on the bed. “Hi, Dad, how are you?”
“I’ve been calling you and leaving messages, and you didn’t answer.”
Even after she’d left for college, Dad had a hard time letting go of checking on her. “I’m answering now, Dad. I was busy last night at the captain’s dinner.”
Hold Me at Twilight Page 6