by Dani Collins
“In a way.” She swallowed and something about her imploring gaze filled his gut with gravel. “He, um, issued a birth certificate for Illi.”
“That says what?” Premonition danced across his shoulders and down his spine.
You must be so excited to meet your daughter.
“Tanja.” He could hardly speak through a throat that was closing like a noose. “Do not tell me you have implicated me in the human trafficking of an infant.”
CHAPTER THREE
“THAT’S A HARSH way to put it,” Tanja protested, but couldn’t help a wince of conscience. “The cleric is a recognized authority on the island,” she defended. “He’s like a government official. He’s also a man with very traditional views. He was fine with me fostering Illi, but he was only willing to release her to my care because my husband was there. It’s not just about propriety. He genuinely wanted assurance that Illi would have both a father and a mother to provide for her.”
Leon glared at her as he snatched up the radio and sent out a broadcast seeking anyone within hailing distance of Malta.
“What are you doing?” Tanja clapped her feet to the deck, adrenaline spiking through her, but there was nowhere to run.
“I can’t dock in Malta, can I? I was going to put you on a plane to Canada, but what if we’re questioned? No. I will be in my own country, with my lawyer present, when we inform the authorities that she’s not biologically ours.”
“I’m not giving her up, Leon!”
“I didn’t say you had to,” he growled back. “But I’m not going to play ignorant to a blatant fraud. What are you trying to do? Send me to jail?”
“No!”
He glanced away. Someone was responding on the radio. He requested they relay a message to the Poseidon’s Crown to intercept the trimaran. He added their course and instructions that the crew stock up on supplies for a baby before they left port.
“What’s the Poseidon’s Crown?” she asked as he ended his transmission.
“My yacht. I’ll be on deck. I need to cool off.”
“Clip on,” she said to his back, but he was already slamming the door on her.
That went well.
She hissed out a breath and gathered their few dishes, taking them to the galley to wash them. As she did, she heard the radio crackle.
“Poseidon’s Crown is leaving port within the hour,” the other party said.
She radioed to thank them and signed off, then poked her head outside long enough to inform Leon. He nodded curtly.
“What, no makeup sex?” she muttered to herself as she closed the door and went below again.
Okay, she had known he wouldn’t be pleased, but desperate times.
She went into the cabin to look at her daughter. Illi was sleeping so angelically that Tanja crawled in beside her and dozed off. Illi woke her an hour later. She was in a ridiculously good mood, wriggling and smiling and cooing and kicking. She really was the most adorable child ever created.
Tanja played with her on the wide berth, telling her about their change in plans. “I know I said you would meet your cousin soon, but the captain has changed course. It might take a little longer to get home.”
Her stomach cramped with fresh anxiety as she wondered how long they would be stuck in Greece. She shouldn’t be upset about going there. Flights out of Athens would likely be more direct. She had been planning to go to Greece anyway, to beard the Leon in his den and demand a divorce.
That still needed to be done, she realized, experiencing a fresh, stabbing pain in her middle.
“I just want to take you home,” she told Illi, nuzzling the baby and growing teary with homesickness.
When Illi began to chew her fingers, Tanja rose to make her a bottle and nearly lost her balance as she stood.
“Whoa,” she muttered, quickly setting the baby safely on the mattress while her equilibrium caught up to her head. Her stomach rolled with a harder pitch than could be blamed on the boat, and a cold flush of nausea washed over her.
“No,” she moaned softly as she realized she was sick. She touched Illi, but she had no sign of fever. Her growing fussiness sounded like hunger and a wet diaper.
Tanja changed her and used a wet wipe to wash her hands, remembering the water in the tanks might not be potable. Was that what was causing these knifing pains that kept accosting her? They were a lot worse than monthly cramps, something she hadn’t had in a while, probably due to worry and weight loss.
She had to leave Illi crying while she clattered around the galley, using bottled water to make the formula. The small task pretty much wiped her out. When she had the bottle ready, she made a herculean effort and brought Illi up to the seat across from the helm to feed her.
The door abruptly slid open and Leon halted as he saw them.
“I have to look at the horizon,” she said with a lip-curl of self-deprecation.
“Seasick?”
“Yeah.” That’s what she was telling herself, even though hot and cold chills were rolling over her.
“Eat something.” He moved to flick through the screens.
Her stomach had writhed with agony at the scent of the formula. She swallowed back a reflexive gag and said, “No, thanks.”
“Take the wheel while I make a cup of soup?”
It was all she could do to hold on to the baby and move those few steps to slide into the pilot’s seat. She concentrated on measured breaths, willing the growing nausea to subside.
As Illi was finishing her bottle, Leon brought two cups of soup and offered her one.
Tanja averted her face.
“I know you don’t feel hungry, but it’ll help.” It was an order.
“I drank some of the tap water,” she admitted.
“Why? I told you not to.”
“You didn’t tell me soon enough. I did it last night.”
He sighed with impatience and set both cups into nearby holders. His hand suddenly loomed in front of her eyes, startling her into recoiling, but he was only wrapping his wide hand across her forehead. After a moment, he shifted the backs of his fingers to her cheek, his touch cool and incredibly soothing.
His tone, however, as he swore under his breath was less comforting. “You have a fever.”
“It’s a water bug. At least it’s not contagious.”
“We hope,” he muttered.
“Move then. I’ll get away from you.”
He stepped back and she wriggled from the helm, juggling baby and empty bottle.
Her struggle must have looked pretty bad because Leon locked his arms around both her and the baby. He plucked the empty bottle from her hold and eased her into the nook seat, scowling at her with a disgruntled expression.
“Are you in pain? Maybe it’s something more serious. Appendicitis?”
“Oh, that’s very calming, thanks. It’s not that bad,” she insisted, even though she was so weak Illi felt as heavy as a bag of cement in her arms, one that wriggled and kicked with joy.
It was so nice to see her full and happy, Tanja couldn’t begrudge her energy. She played a game of wiggling Illi’s soggy hand against her soggy mouth, saying nonsense things. Illi released her infectious baby chortle, making Tanja chuckle in turn.
When she heard Leon snort, she glanced at him and caught him watching them with the strangest expression on his face. Amusement, but something intensely personal.
He quickly snapped his attention to the horizon, showing her only his stoic profile, but her heart took a stumble over what she had glimpsed. Envy? Longing? Tenderness?
“Oh,” she groaned as a sudden stab went into her stomach, sharp enough to push the noise out of her. She swallowed, but didn’t think the porridge was going to stay down. “Can you—” She stood and shoved the baby at him before hurrying to the head.
A few minutes
later, feeling scraped hollow, she shakily returned to the helm.
“There are anti-nausea pills in my shaving kit.” He had Illi clasped in one bent arm against his chest.
“They knock me out and I have to look after Little Miss.”
“I can hold her. Go lie down.”
“If I’m lying down, I might as well have her beside me.” She moved down the ladder and held out her hands.
He hesitated, then crouched to transfer the baby. “Call me if you need help. It’s only a few hours until we intersect with Poseidon’s Crown. You might feel better once we’re not rocking so much.”
“I’m sure I will,” she said, but already knew it was a lie.
* * *
When Leon made visual contact with his yacht, he slipped down to tell Tanja. She and the baby were fast asleep. Illi wore a healthy glow beneath her light tan skin. Tanja wore a frown on her brow and hectic patches of red on her pale cheeks.
“Tanja?” He touched her arm and she flinched. “We’re moving to my yacht soon.”
“’Kay,” she murmured, not opening her eyes.
He touched her forehead. She was dry and disturbingly hot. He swore under his breath. “You’re burning up. Did you take anything?”
“Your kit is gone. Pirates took it.” The mercenaries on Istuval, he assumed she meant.
He checked for it anyway, but she was right. “Hang in there.”
“I’m fine. Is Illi okay?”
“Sleeping. No fever,” he assured her after setting the backs of two fingers against the baby’s soft cheek.
Within the hour, he was close enough to Poseidon’s Crown that he dropped the sails and bobbed in the water. The yacht was manned by a crew of a dozen. One would sail the trimaran back to Malta, so there were two men in the tender that came across.
Leon transferred their bags, then woke Tanja. She sat up and shuddered with cold, hugging herself and trying to drag the blanket back over her.
“Wear this.” He removed his pullover and helped her into it. “I’ll carry the baby.”
“I can do it.”
“You want to drop her? No. You’re sick.” He took the baby.
Illi didn’t want to be disturbed. She began to cry when he gathered her, but a fussy baby was the least of his worries. Tanja nearly hit the deck when she tried to stand.
“Stay there,” he ordered, pressing her back onto the berth. He carried the baby out and handed her across to the crewman piloting the tender.
When he returned, Tanja had stumbled into the galley, clinging to whatever was in reach. She looked like death and sounded panicked. “Where is she?”
“Waiting for us,” he said evenly. “Let me help you.”
Her weight loss hit him as she leaned into him. She was reedy and light as he boosted her up to the deck and lifted her from the trimaran into the tender. She folded into a seat and held out weak arms for the baby.
Leon exchanged a few brief words with the sailor taking control of the trimaran, warning him supplies were low and the water was boggy. When he sat down next to Tanja, he wrapped his arms around her, both to warm her and to help her hold the baby.
She snuggled into him with a grateful noise, head heavy as she nestled it onto his shoulder. Then she picked it up to ask with weak outrage, “What the hell is that?”
“What?”
Her gaze went up and up and up as they neared the yacht. “That’s Poseidon’s Crown? It’s a cruise ship.”
“It has staterooms for twelve, not twelve hundred,” he dismissed, keeping to himself that Poseidon’s Crown had been touted as the world’s first “gigayacht” when his father had ordered it.
“I saved up so I could go to Istuval on a working holiday,” Tanja said with indignation, eyes glassy with fever and fury. “I picked Istuval because it was close enough to Greece to make the side trip affordable. I was dreading asking you for a divorce because I thought I might get stuck paying legal fees and I don’t have extra money for lawyers. Once I had Illi and Brahim in my life, I didn’t know how I would pay for a divorce and adoption. And all the while you have this?”
A chill descended. It might have been caused by entering the shadow of the yacht’s seven decks. Poseidon’s Crown loomed like a skyscraper above them. But it might have been that word divorce. It might have been every word she’d just thrown at him like sharp icicles that still managed to penetrate his skin rather than shatter on impact.
“My father bought it,” Leon said flatly. “It was tied up on lease to a sultan for its first three years. I couldn’t sell it without taking a bath. Keeping it has allowed me to borrow—”
“I don’t care! You’ve been sitting on this kind of money for years while I traded my smart phone for baby formula. You’re the worst, Leon. You are the absolute worst.”
* * *
The behemoth with its stair-step decks of sleek angles and spaceship aerodynamics looked as though it was made of quicksilver and glass. It was modern and visually beautiful, and Tanja knew it to be indisputably luxurious even before she boarded.
As they approached the stern, a wall of the hull opened, allowing them to step straight from the tender into the yacht’s fitness club. Across from where they entered, a glass-walled weight room held treadmills and ellipticals pointed to enjoy the view off the port side.
A purser greeted them, introducing himself as Kyle. He sounded Australian.
“Toy room?” Tanja asked, reading the sign on a door in the stern wall.
“Jet Skis and kite-surfing gear, that sort of thing,” Kyle said. “Forward of the gym is our sauna and spa, but the specialists can come to you for massage or nails.”
Growing up at the marina, Tanja had seen some swanky vessels. Beasts like this tended to anchor offshore, though. She’d never been on one to see the extravagance within.
“You have an elevator,” she noted with a scathing glance at Leon as they entered it.
“We have four,” Kyle said helpfully.
“Oh? How many helipads?” She was being facetious.
“Two.” Kyle was serious.
“Two,” she repeated with a curl of her lip.
Her air of superiority died a quick death when the elevator stopped and she completely lost her balance.
Leon caught both her and Illi with a glower, then took Illi and kept his arm around Tanja as they stepped out. He was so warm. It took all her concentration to make her legs work. She wanted to melt right into his heat and strength, close her eyes and let him take complete control.
“Have the medic come to my apartment immediately,” Leon ordered. “Tell the captain to keep us in heli distance to Malta in case we need to evacuate her to a hospital.”
“Yes, sir.” Kyle quickly set aside her bags and moved to pick up a white telephone mounted near the elevator.
“Helicopters do come in handy,” Leon said pithily as he steered her along what would be called a gallery in a mansion.
They skirted an atrium that looked down to the main saloon—accessed by a glass elevator, she noted as they passed. There was a dome of colored glass above them, and now they were moving through double doors into, well, it was nothing less than a mini penthouse.
On one side there was a galley fronted by a wet bar with stools. On the other side stood a business area with a stately desk, a monitor on an articulated arm and a printer on a bookshelf that held a handful of novels.
They moved into a spacious and bright area for lounging and dining. Walls of windows on either side opened to the wide, surrounding deck. The windows continued wrapping forward past a partition wall that held a fireplace.
On the other side of the wall was a walk-through closet and a spacious head before she reached the massive bedroom with an equally massive bed. It was situated so the sleeper could sit up and take in a one-eighty view across the bow or walk out to the pr
ivate forward deck and slip into a hot tub.
Her weak legs folded and she sat down on the foot of the bed. How did one process this much wealth and attention to comfort?
Leon hung back in the main living area to instruct Kyle to leave the luggage and find something for Illi to sleep in.
When he finally showed up in the bedroom, she asked, “Why did you bring us to your stateroom?”
“You need help with the baby.” He was still holding Illi, who was making raspberry noises against her wet wrist. She smiled and held out her arm to Tanja.
“I can manage,” Tanja insisted, lifting heavy hands to take her daughter.
“Can you?” Leon scoffed, offering her the baby, but holding on to her.
Good thing. Tanja’s arms felt like wet spaghetti. She couldn’t take Illi’s weight and wound up dropping her arms empty to her sides, whimpering even as she glared resentfully when Leon’s brows lifted in superiority.
The last thing she wanted to do was rely on him, but it was painfully obvious she would have to. For now.
* * *
The medic arrived with a message from the captain. “We were hailed by the Pennyloafer on our way to meet you. Dr. Kyrkos issued an invitation to meet them in Malta.”
Kyrkos was a racing buddy from Leon’s school days. He picked up the phone and told the captain, “Invite Kyrkos aboard if he’s still in the area. Tell him it’s a house call.”
Leon then hovered, still holding the babbling baby, listening as the medic asked Tanja a few questions while taking her temperature.
“High, but not dangerously high,” he pronounced. “My guess is that this will pass in a day or two, but I’d feel better if you had a doctor’s opinion.” He gave her something for fever and told her to rehydrate, promising as he left to order fruit juice spiked with electrolyte tablets.
“Can I shower while I wait for the juice?” Tanja asked.
“I don’t know. Can you?” Leon made no effort to disguise his sarcasm.
“Ha-ha. Water was as precious as everything else at Kahina’s. That’s why I was in the habit of drinking whatever I’d poured.” She grimaced. “And that’s why I haven’t showered in three days. Feeling grimy doesn’t help me feel better at all.”