Grave Intentions

by Sjoberg, Lori

  The porters had already delivered her suitcases, so she took the time to unpack her belongings, hanging everything that would fit in the tiny closet by the bathroom. The rest she jammed in the top two drawers of the vanity. She arranged her toiletry items along the bathroom countertop and lined up her extra pairs of shoes by the side of the bed.

  Now what?

  Restless and annoyed, Ruby plopped down on one of the beds, the springs squeaking lightly under her weight. She was on board to complete one solitary assignment, one that wouldn’t come to pass for another fifty-three hours. One unfortunate soul, scheduled to break from its mortality at approximately nine forty-eight Tuesday evening.

  As a reaper, it was her responsibility to harvest the soul and guide it to its final destination. Until then she was free to pass the time as she pleased, a concept she was no longer accustomed to. Normally, her days revolved around her scheduled assignments; where to go, how to get there, and how to collect the souls without mortal detection or intervention.

  How to cope with the constant exposure to death. Bar none, that was the most difficult aspect of the job, the one she still struggled with after nearly half a century.

  Odd, in all the time she’d worked as a reaper, she’d never gotten a job outside her jurisdiction. Deaths in exotic locations were typically considered plum assignments. And since she’d never played enough politics to land one, she had no idea why she’d suddenly drawn the lucky straw.

  Maybe her former boss had pulled a few strings as some sort of good-bye present. He’d transferred to Miami just a few months before, so it certainly wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. But if that were the case, why this job? He knew how Ruby felt about boats. Next time they spoke, she’d have to ask.

  She smiled when her thoughts strayed to Jack. He was probably still on the top deck, enjoying the party as it kicked into high gear across international waters. She’d been drawn to him the moment she spotted him standing by the rail. Without a doubt, he provided a testament to the wonders of masculinity—broad shoulders and toned muscles coupled with short dark hair, a square jaw, and the most striking brown eyes she’d ever seen. His vitality ran amazingly strong—a deep, steady rumble like a Harley on the highway. But there was something else about him, an intangible allure that drew her to him like metal to a magnet.

  Maybe it was because he’d looked so serious, as if the weight of the world rested on those big, strong shoulders. She’d always been a sucker for the type, drawn to the challenge of loosening the tightly bound, just to see what happens when they finally lose control and throw caution to the wind.

  No matter the reason, she’d make a point of seeking him out later. He intrigued and attracted, a combination that piqued her interest and had her determined to sample the benefits he had to offer.

  After all, she owed it to herself. A couple months had passed since she’d ended things with Adam. She hadn’t taken another lover in that time, and the stretch of celibacy was starting to make her twitchy.

  “All settled in, I see.”

  Ruby froze, her breath catching in her throat. She hadn’t heard his voice in over twenty years, the distinguished British accent that bordered dangerously close to snooty. Samuel rarely mingled with the little people, preferring to delegate through an impenetrable layer of middle management.

  Ruby turned her head toward the sound of his voice and found Samuel perched on the chair beside the vanity. He looked just as prim and proper as the last time she’d seen him, a refined English gentleman with an edge sharper than steel. No one knew how long he’d lorded over Death, and no one dared to ask. He ruled with an iron fist and absolute power, executing Fate’s directives with ruthless efficiency.

  Still, she didn’t take kindly to folks popping into her room uninvited. What if she hadn’t been decent? “You got it, boss man. Thanks so much for the luxurious accommodations,” she said, making no effort to mask her sarcasm.

  If Samuel noticed, he didn’t let it show. Instead he smiled, the lines of his face so sharp and angular he reminded her of a crocodile. “My pleasure.” He crossed one leg over the other, his posture so rigid he barely made any creases in his finely tailored suit. “You should be pleased. Fate personally chose you for this assignment. It’s a rare honor.”

  Honor? Was he kidding? “Do you have any idea how much I hate boats?”

  “Of course I do. But this is more than just a boat, Ms. Dawson. This is a city at sea, a shrine to hedonism.” He met her gaze, his dark eyes devoid of emotion. “I assumed you’d feel right at home.”

  Bastard. How dare he judge her? She considered saying something about assumptions but had enough sense to bite back the comment. Samuel wasn’t known for his gentle demeanor, which meant it was in her best interest to maintain some semblance of diplomacy. So instead she asked, “Why did Fate pick me for this?”

  The question had lingered in her mind since receiving news of the assignment. Why her? Why now? Why did it have to be on the flipping Titanic?

  In the grand scheme of things, reapers worked for Death, and Death fell under the direct authority of Fate. Ruby knew of no one who had ever met Fate. She was an elusive figure, and if a reaper popped up on her radar it usually wasn’t good.

  Samuel rose from the chair in one fluid movement. “Fate has her reasons. It’s unwise to question her judgment.” His gaze tracked across the room before shifting back to Ruby. A sense of foreboding emanated from him, a silent warning that spoke far more than words. “You’re about to be tested, my dear. Being on board is the least of your concerns.”

  Now that didn’t sound good. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. “Tested how?”

  Samuel gave her a shake of the head. “That is something I am not at liberty to disclose. All I can say is the boundaries of your comfort zone are about to be broken. Prepare yourself.”

  Prepare for what? What boundaries? Why the cryptic messages instead of a straight answer?

  Someone knocked on the door before Ruby had the chance to press Samuel for more information. She crossed the room in three long strides, checking the peephole before opening the door.

  “Hi,” said a young man in ship’s uniform. With his wide eyes and cherubic face, he reminded her of a little kid playing dress up. He held out a plate covered by a shiny silver dome. “Complimentary fruit plate,” he said as he removed the cover, revealing a small platter of apples, oranges, and grapes.

  “Well, bless your heart,” Ruby said, smiling as she accepted the plate. She had no idea what she was going to do with so much fruit, but she still appreciated the gesture. “Isn’t that sweet of him?” she asked as she turned back toward Samuel.

  The room was empty.

  Two hours later, Jack found himself searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

  “Good evening, sir.”

  “Evening.” Jack smiled at the short, stocky man standing behind the reservation desk for the ship’s main dining room. He appeared to be in his early fifties, and his nametag read Oscar. “I have a reservation at six-thirty under the name Deverell.”

  Oscar keyed Jack’s last name into the computer, pulling up his information. “Ah yes, I have you right here. Party of one?” He gave Jack the look of pity typically reserved for those poor schmucks with no dinner date.

  “Yes, that’s me. But I wanted to make a change to my reservation.” He leaned closer and discretely slipped Oscar a twenty. “I was hoping you could help me find a woman I met on deck this afternoon. Tall redhead, very beautiful, goes by the name Ruby.”

  “And her last name?” Oscar asked, his doubtful expression indicating he’d received this type of request more than once before.

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t catch her last name.” Damn it. Their encounter had left him so blindsided he’d completely forgotten to ask. “But you’d remember her if you’ve seen her.” God knows he couldn’t get her out of his head no matter how hard he tried. And while the curse wasn’t picky, Jack preferred women he
found attractive.

  “Sir, the ship’s booked to capacity. Without a last name it would be nearly impossible to locate her reservation. Besides, there’s the possibility she may be dining at one of the ship’s other restaurants.”

  True, but he’d already tried five of the other restaurants without success so his options were dwindling. For all he knew, she’d stayed in her cabin and ordered room service.

  Jack sighed as he dug another twenty from his wallet. At this rate, he’d be out of cash by night’s end. “Perhaps you could find it in your heart to run a search for her name? There can’t be that many women named Ruby on board.”

  Oscar pocketed the money and then gave Jack a discreet nod. “If you could wait just a few moments while I get the people behind you seated, I will see what I can do.”

  Jack stepped aside and waited for Oscar to attend to the growing line of diners. In the meantime his eyes scanned the area, his gaze darting from person to person, searching for familiarity but finding none.

  “Ah, yes,” Oscar said about ten minutes later. He gave Jack a triumphant smile. “I believe I’ve located your mysterious Ruby.”

  “Great!” His pulse quickened, spurred by the thrill of the hunt. “When’s her reservation?”

  “Right now.” Oscar pointed to his left, just above Jack’s shoulder. His smile widened, obviously finding more humor in the situation than Jack thought appropriate. “I believe she’s standing right behind you.”

  “Looking for me?” Her voice carried a distinct note of humor.

  Jack cursed under his breath before slowly turning his head in Ruby’s direction. The casual shorts and T-shirt from earlier were gone, replaced by a pale floral sundress and a matching pair of strappy sandals that showed off brightly painted pink toenails. The choker around her neck was white, a delicate macramé pattern that blended with her ivory skin. The sight left him speechless while his thoughts strayed into dangerous territory.

  “Why yes,” Jack said when his tongue finally got with the program. “I wanted to see if you’d join me for dinner. That is, if you don’t already have a date.”

  Her eyes moved over him, slow and deliberate, and he could have sworn he felt heat from her gaze. The curse noticed it too, flaring from its dormant state, focusing on Ruby with unsettling intensity.

  “I’d be delighted,” she replied, an easy smile curving those luscious lips. Her attention shifted to Oscar. “Darling, would you be so kind as to seat us together?” she asked, her Southern accent laced with a brash sensuality that brought a blush to Oscar’s dark skin.

  “Not a problem, ma’am.” Oscar made a display of keying a series of commands into the computer. He signaled one of the servers in charge of seating and handed the young man a small slip of paper. “If you would please follow Enrique, he’ll take you to your table.”

  At least a hundred tables filled an area the size of two ballrooms, most large enough to seat a minimum of ten. Ornate crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, giving the room a classic ambience from a bygone era. Waiters and waitresses worked the room with a finesse that only came with constant repetition; making small talk, filling glasses, balancing trays stacked high with plates while dodging oblivious patrons.

  “I’m jealous,” Jack said as they wove a path across the room. “I had to bribe the host just to find out when you were eating.”

  She slanted a glance in his direction. “It’s part of my charm,” she drawled, a self-satisfied grin lighting her features.

  “It would have been a lot easier to find you if I’d known your last name.”

  “I’m sure it would have been.”

  He waited a few beats for her to cough up a last name. When she didn’t, he asked, “Well?”

  Ruby arched a brow, and the grin broadened to a smile. “Well what?”

  He held out his hand. “Hello. My name is Jack Deverell. And you are?”

  She took his hand, giving it a quick shake before letting go. “Ruby. Nice to meet you, Jack.”

  “You don’t have a last name, Ruby?”

  “Nope. Just Ruby,” she said, clearly enjoying herself. “Like Bey-oncé. Or Madonna.”

  Great. He was fixated on a woman with delusions of grandeur. She smiled at him again, full of warmth and sensuality and something else he still couldn’t quite put his finger on, and he decided it was worth dealing with the delusions. At least for a little while, until he either unraveled the mystery or she drove him nuts.

  Together, they followed Enrique to a table near the center of the room. The table was almost full, the remaining seats taken by an elderly couple, a younger couple so into each other they barely acknowledged anyone else’s presence, and a trio of college-aged women.

  Enrique pulled out a chair for Ruby. Once she was seated, he unfurled a white linen napkin and draped it across her lap.

  “Why thank you, Enrique,” she said, all smiles and Southern charm. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”

  “I think he does that for everybody,” Jack said after Enrique left to seat the next group.

  “I know,” Ruby said as she picked up her menu. Her focus shifted up, meeting Jack’s gaze. “But it never hurts to be cordial.”

  To prove her point, she set her sights on the older couple sitting to her right. “Why hello there,” she said. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Ruby.”

  “I’m Louis.” The guy looked older than Methuselah, his skin more wrinkled than a raisin and twice as dark. His head was mostly bald with errant wisps of fine white hairs sticking up on top like a baby duck. His eyes never left Ruby as he gestured to the woman sitting to his right. “And this is my wife, Adele.”

  Adele looked even older than Louis. Her bleached blond hair was teased to within an inch of its life and her skin had the consistency of tanned leather. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice sounding more truck driver than little old lady. She smiled, flashing a set of teeth too large for her head and too straight to be real. “This your first cruise?”

  “Does it show?” Ruby laughed, her fingers toying with the choker around her neck. It probably sounded genuine to everyone else at the table, but Jack knew her just well enough to notice the discomfort behind the laughter. “I bet the two of you have been on tons of these things.”

  “Honey, you have no idea. We took our first cruise eighteen years ago—”

  “Nineteen,” Louis corrected, right before he shoveled a forkful of salad into his mouth.

  “Nineteen years ago,” Adele continued without missing a beat. She reached across the table to pluck a sourdough roll from the basket. “Just a little three-day trip to Acapulco. Louis wanted to see the Incan—”

  “Mayan,” Louis corrected again, his mouth full and a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

  “Mayan ruins.” Adele paused long enough to thank the waiter for refilling her wine glass. “I didn’t feel like trekking through the jungle to see a bunch of old rocks so I stayed on the beach to work on my tan.”

  From the looks of her, she’d been working on her tan ever since.

  While Adele continued to catalogue her adventures in cruising, Jack took the opportunity to watch Ruby.

  She looked younger than he’d originally thought, early twenties if he had to hazard a guess. No lines, no creases, not a single mark from age. But something in her eyes had him second-guessing his estimation. Mixed with the vibrant green, he recognized the weariness of an old soul, a hint of darkness contradicting her carefree demeanor.

  “So are you going on any excursions when we reach the Bahamas?” Ruby asked Adele, her elbows on the table and her chin propped on the heel of her hand.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Adele replied, darting a glance in her husband’s direction. “Louis wants to go snorkeling, but I don’t think the water’s going to be warm enough. I think I might just stay on board and get a massage.”

  Ruby’s features shifted, her face losing all trace of expression. Then she reached across the table and patted the o
ld woman’s hand. “Go snorkeling, Adele. You never know when you’ll have the chance to do it again.”

  photo credit: Frank Logiudice

  about the author

  Growing up the youngest of three girls, Lori Sjoberg never had control of the remote. That meant a steady diet of science fiction and fantasy: Star Trek, Star Wars, Twilight Zone, Outer Limits—you name it, she watched it. It fed her imagination, which came in handy when she needed a creative excuse for being out past curfew. After graduating from the University of Central Florida with a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration, Lori worked for nearly a decade in retail management, then switched to financial planning, and then insurance.

  The writing bug bit a few years later. After completing her first manuscript, Lori joined the Romance Writers of America and Central Florida Romance Writers. Now she exercises the analytical half of her brain at work and the creative half writing paranormal romance. When she’s not doing either of those, she’s usually spending time with her husband and four-legged children.

  Readers can visit Lori online at www.lorisjoberg.com or www.facebook.com/AuthorLoriSjoberg.

  eKENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2013 by Lori Sjoberg

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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  ISBN: 978-1-6018-3006-7