by Vivian Arend
Volunteering as a troubleshooter wasn’t going to be a huge task at all. It was more a favour to ease Tessa’s concerns.
No, Keri planned on using what should be ample spare time this trip to plan out her future. She had an art degree from the community college, ink permanently staining her fingers, and a backpack full of charcoal pencils and art pads. But drawing pictures in the farmer’s market wouldn’t pay the bills forever. She sent another set of good wishes her parents’ direction for being patient with a rebellious hothead and giving her a place to bloom.
Now if she could only figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up.
A gust of wind tossed her long hair into her eyes, and Keri regretted her decision to leave it down. At sea she’d have to drag it back into a ponytail. She twisted the strands out of her way and dug in her pocket for an elastic.
Loud shouts drew her attention to the harbour. Three people raced through the streets, the one in front narrowly ahead. He leapt over a stack of boxes before shoving them behind him into the path of his pursuers. The first man turned the corner, out of sight for a moment, as the two behind forced the crates out of the way, their curses painting the air blue.
Keri walked along the railing, trying to locate the cause of the commotion. Was he a thief, perhaps? Someone late on their mooring payments? By the time she’d reached the prow of the boat, the two pursuers were visible in greater detail. Big clumpy fishermen boots graced their feet, and they were covered in shiny rain gear from head to toe. The sheer awkwardness of running in those outfits made her legs ache in sympathy.
Out on the main street, a lone figure dashed back into view, head down, legs pumping. He was poetry in motion as he leapt over ropes and around barrels, climbing over people and shipping supplies as if taking a casual stroll down the beach.
Only, when he changed direction, raced up the ramp and disappeared into the depths of the Arctic Wolf’s hold, the fun and games were over.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Keri turned to the nearest stairwell and sprinted downward.
Troubleshooter? This was trouble shouting loud and clear, and no way was someone sneaking aboard the ship unapproved. Not on her watch. Especially someone who might or might not have the fishermen’s mafia on his heels.
She burst into the crew common area and glanced around. A short line of people waited before a folding table, the two pursers behind it handing out keys and information sheets.
“Something wrong?” The chief supervisor, Chad, smiled her way enticingly, and yeah, they’d been flirting earlier, but…timing, dude. Being a family friend didn’t mean any time, any place.
“Did you see an unauthorized entry? There was a disturbance down on the docks.”
“No one new boarded except the last-minute crew we contracted locally. And this is almost the last of them.” Chad stood and eyed the line. “There’s one missing. A Mark Weaver. He’s not here yet—”
“Here I am. Sorry. Tiny mistake—alarm didn’t go off. Got here as quick as possible.”
The late arrival was dark haired, the strands long enough to lie tousled around his shoulders like some bad-boy rock star on tour. Mmm, she liked bad boys. His leather jacket hung open, his chest moving rapidly, and Keri hesitated.
Chest heaving? Slightly panting—as if he’d been running? “Did someone escort you to the ship, Mr. Weaver?”
His eyes widened, then his grin flashed and her belly warmed. Damn, that face of his should be labeled a dangerous weapon. “No, but I sure could use an escort to my room.”
“You’ll get your sleeping assignment in a minute,” Chad cut in. “First, sign here.”
Keri shook herself, stepping back in self-defense.
Mark winked her direction then leaned over the table to add a swirl of chaos to the bottom of the page. “There you go, love.”
Chad choked for a second before handing over a key. “Your room is on the port side, toward mid ship. You can get extra linens and supplies from the hall storage, and your first shift starts at eleven hundred hours. Report back here and you’ll find your team leader. They’ll get you fitted up and give you any last-minute instructions.”
Mark tilted an imaginary hat at Keri, ignoring Chad completely. “You going to be around? Help me find my sea legs, that kind of thing?”
Keri continued to retreat until her back hit the wall. “I think we’ll end this conversation now, Mr. Weaver. Find your quarters.”
His dark eyes sparkled for a second before he dropped his gaze, stroking his way down her body. She should have felt insulted. She should’ve turned and demanded he treat her with more respect. The words wouldn’t come, mainly because what she really wanted was to strip right there and ride him like a Harley. Feel his power rumbling between her thighs and—
Sweat broke out on her brow, cooling instantly in the air-conditioned room. Mark was out the door before she figured out how to respond further. Keri avoided the blatant question in Chad’s eyes and raced away, slamming through the door that led the opposite direction from where her mystery man had gone. All thoughts of why he’d been chased aboard were lost in the disastrous new revelation that had overtaken her.
This was not good. This was so not good. The situation had gone from troublesome to tortuous in less time than it took for the average wolf pack to consume a prime-rib dinner.
Keri stopped to lean her forehead on the nearest wall. She hit with more force than intended, which was moderately excruciating but somehow appropriate.
In fact, she repeated the move. A couple of times.
Bang. Bang.
The resulting pain made her screw up her face. Bang. She was supposed to be there for her friend and act as a troubleshooter. Bang. Not be the one to cause chaos right under Tessa’s nose. Bang. Not discovering her mate in the midst of the hired help.
Her mate. Oh my word, was it really him?
She flipped around and pressed her shoulders to the wall, letting her head fall back. Instantly drooling over some strange guy wasn’t the problem—shifters were cool about sex, and if she wanted to go knock boots with someone, no one would even blink.
But what her body was doing right now? This was an out-of-the-blue, off-the-charts, do-it-now and do-it-hard attraction. In any shifter’s handbook, she was sure she’d find her symptoms listed as classic he’s the one, accompanied by flashing neon warning lights.
Now the question was, what the heck did she do?
Chapter Two
Jared sprawled across the single bed that occupied three-quarters of the available space in his tiny crew cabin. Ever since his fight-or-flight response had kicked in back at the coffee shop and shot him full of adrenaline, he’d been vibrating. Only now had his heart rate dropped to anything approaching normal.
He sat up and dragged a hand through his hair. Well, that had been exciting. His lover over the previous few nights had insisted she was good with some casual fun. The family photo he’d spotted on the wall, the one with her being guarded carefully by her older brothers—his chasers of the fisherman variety—should have reminded him otherwise. Even if she was fine with bed-rocking, mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex, her big brothers had other ideas about what their little sis should be doing. They had warned him off a long time ago.
His reputation truly had been well earned.
Bursting in on the cruise-ship staff gathering put a temporary kink in his plans to simply hide out for a few minutes until the bruiser boys left the area. He’d been ready to cut and return to Haines, peeking down the corridor he’d run up, when the stiff from the sign-in table, that Chad somebody, had taken it upon himself to provide a door-to-door escort to his staff quarters.
In spite of the hole he was in, Jared had to laugh.
Stepping forward and claiming to be Mark—sheer impulse on his part. The guy was one of the Granite Lake pack, and pulling practical jokes on each other came with the territory.
This prank was the best so far, especially since he’d seen Mark tossing b
ack a few too many last night. Jared bet his friend was somewhere off in Haines, face down, drooling and snoring, happily unaware he was late for his assignment.
Jared wondered what the pack would think up for work for the dude. Hopefully something physically dirty and nasty. Not that he was vindictive or anything, but the last time they’d officially faced off, Mark had stiffed him with the bill for an entire night’s food and drink.
Jared headed for the door. Time for the fun and games to be over. Maybe he’d even be nice and phone Mark once he got down on the docks. Give the guy a wake-up call and all that. He poked his head out the door and pulled up short.
Chad glanced over from where he stood chatting with a couple girls in housekeeping uniforms—neither of whom Jared recognized.
“Need something?” Suspicion tinged Chad’s voice.
Shit. “Nope. Just curious. Thought I heard a large donkey in the hallway. No worries…”
He ducked back into his room and closed the door on the sound of feminine laughter and Chad’s cussing.
Oh yeah, it was a good thing this was a temporary gig. Chad was far too easy to tease.
Jared made his way over to the tiny window and cupped his hands around his eyes to block the room light. He peered out, fascinated to see the people boarding the ship. Bags and boxes were being rolled up a gangplank, and all over the dock there was excitement and energy. Dynamic, thrilling.
A huge yawn broke free and he stretched lazily. Well, that was enough of that. He was more than ready to head home and crash for another few hours. Some time this afternoon he would show up at the Heritage Village. Maybe do a little shopping first…
When are you going to grow up?
Maggie’s tease from the coffee shop echoed in his head. He felt a little guilty that people he admired had been completely taken in by his deception. All the more honest responses he could have given her blurred together into a confusing morass, compounded by this temporary excursion back into the world of the privileged.
It wasn’t his first time on a cruise ship, and the percolating memories were both attractive and disturbing. Frustration made him revert to his usual coping strategy, which was to ignore the issue.
He snuck another peek out the door, delighted to find the hall empty. Jared whistled softly, making his way forward and glancing down hallways to figure his way out of the bowels of the ship.
A quick peek at his watch. Ten a.m. Lots of time. He could even get in a nap and game of pool before heading over to do some volunteer work. He took a set of stairs upward, weaving through increasing crowds as shifters in holiday garb filled the hallways.
Yup, this had been an interesting diversion, but it was time to get back to the real world. He had chosen a path years ago that meant avoiding all contact with cruise lines and upscale entertainments. A simple lifestyle, ordinary people—that was his destiny.
Mingling with the rich and famous was for other wolves, not him.
Keri splashed cold water on her face, but the shock wasn’t enough. Screw it. She twisted the taps in her sink on full then shoved her entire head under the faucet, icy water soaking her hair and spraying over her neck.
Lips sealed shut, she held her breath and stayed under as long as she could, hoping the frigid blast would wash away some of her frustration. But by the time she’d dragged herself out and wrapped a towel around her head, she was no better off than before. If anything, the wild itch under her skin had increased.
Maybe she could avoid him for the ten-day duration of the cruise. Then she’d jump him. That would work.
Mark Weaver. She wrinkled her nose. Not much to go on from a name. Curiosity struck. There had been a whole sheet of information compiled on each of the staff. Chad had the files. That was the first way to discover what she could about Mark—strictly so she could stay away from him, of course.
Not that she wasn’t interested in getting to know her mate eventually, but until this cruise was over, she didn’t have time to be rolling in the hallways with him.
A flash of heat roared up one side of her and down the other at the thought, and she wrapped both arms around her chest tightly to stop from getting naked and dealing with the ache herself.
She stood forlornly in the middle of her bathroom, a slow drip, drip, drip hitting the floor from her hair, wetness oozing through her clothing, making the fabric stick to her skin. In spite of the frigid water, her libido was still set to maximum. Her breasts ached, her sex felt empty and her heart pounded out a rumba-tango-fandango. Yeah, this wasn’t good. If she didn’t figure out a solution quick, she’d be tracking Mark down and humping him no matter where she found him.
She stripped off her wet things, ignoring the desire to linger over her extremely sensitive skin. A fresh pair of jeans, a clean T-shirt—it wasn’t fancy but she was neither crew nor passenger. She could wear whatever she wanted. A pair of runners on her feet and she was off.
The carpet underfoot on the exclusive cabin level was thick enough to sink into on every step. Getting spoiled by being the friend of the organizer? She’d take it. Her cabin was way bigger than the crew hovels. She and Mark could totally use the king-sized bed in her cabin to—
No, not going there. She needed to turn off the GPS that seemed to have focused very firmly on sex and Mark and mate.
“If it isn’t the most beautiful wolf on the boat.”
Keri pulled to a stop and glanced behind her.
A dark chuckle stroked her ears. Oh damn. Chad.
“You, darling. I’m talking about you. What made you disappear earlier? I had hoped to talk you into checking out my cabin.” He stepped into her personal space, his solid chest mere inches away from her.
Damn. Damn, damn, poop.
This wasn’t unexpected at all. They’d been eyeing each other for years. Chad had been best friends with Tessa’s big brother all through high school, which meant Keri had seen him plenty. Now that they were in the same place at the same time, both supposedly free agents, becoming lovers would have been a pretty natural progression.
The big wolf smelt good. All those bulging muscles hovering within stroking reach were firm and tasty and…nothing. Her libido didn’t register anything anymore. Not since she’d gotten a whiff of Mark.
“Hi, Chad.”
She pressed harder against the wall, attempting to open up room between them.
He planted a palm beside her head and leaned in closer, breathing deeply. “Hi, Chad? That’s all I get? This morning during the general staff meeting I could have sworn you said something to the effect of ‘please rip off my panties with your teeth and lick me until I scream’.”
Her cheeks heated. “I didn’t say that.”
“Not in words,” he acknowledged, “but I know a hey, you wanna fuck? look when I see one.”
Oh, brother. Yes, this morning she might have been guilty of sending out that vibe, but now she was pretty sure her signals were screaming a different message. “Do you also know the key components of a warning, you’re about to lose your nuts look?”
He frowned then glanced upward. Wiggled his nose for a second, then shrugged. “Nope, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen that one in my life.”
“Chad, may I speak with you?” a bright feminine voice interrupted.
Keri breathed a sigh of relief as he turned toward the head of the housekeeping department. Good, he’d be distracted enough she could just…slip…
His other hand landed on the wall to her right, effectively blocking her escape route. “Is it an emergency, Eden?”
The dark-haired woman shook her head. “No, but—”
“Send me an email. We can discuss it during the staff meeting this afternoon.”
“But—”
“Later, Eden.” He dismissed her without a second glance.
Eden left, her expression unreadable. Keri felt strangely trapped. Well, more trapped than having Chad loom over her and basically pin her to the wall with his proximity. She didn’t want to come betwee
n the man and his job.
Come to think of it, she didn’t want to come between him and anything.
Keri planted both palms on his chest, preparing to shove him away when he caught her off guard and covered her mouth with his.
She was having an out-of-body experience. Watching from a foot or two over the hall as their lips meshed. He ground against her, their hips damn close to merging through osmosis.
He was buff and tan and surfer-dude gorgeous. Until an hour ago she’d been completely on board with having him in her bed every night, all cruise long.
Now? The loudest thing running through her brain was gag. The only sections of her mental synapses fully engaged were curiously pondering what Mark was doing. And then there was the question of whether the first time they did it, would they even make it to a bed? Hmmm. If this was Mark right now across from her, she’d grab his hips and—
“Ahem.”
Light appeared as they were interrupted for a second time. Chad retreated a couple inches to stare to their left at—oh damn—it was Mark.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, but if you don’t mind?” He brushed a hand through his dark hair, leaving it in unruly perfection.
Time stood still.
…because that was all he did.
Keri choked out a protest. “But…you…I’m…we’re…”
Both men stared at her in confusion.
Great job, idiot. Way to prove English is your mother tongue.
Chad glared at Mark. “You’re not supposed to be on this deck. It’s off limits to maintenance crew.”
Mark paused, then lifted a finger and shook it once. “Yes. Right. Except I got lost. I was trying for the outside deck. Just wanted a breath of fresh air before getting down to work.”
He eyed Keri, his predatory, mesmerizing, hungry gaze returning. It was all she needed in the way of visual foreplay. She sighed lustily, squeezing her legs together to fight the flood of desire about to float her away. One hand rose involuntarily in his direction.
He took her fingers and squeezed them.