“Oh, cool. I’m so excited. Aren’t you? These routines are so sharp, and we’re going to be working around the Pacific Islands!”
Dylan forced a smile that turned into a real one when he thought of what Brian would say if he could see him now. A dancer? What, you’re gay after all?
Dylan chuckled. He hadn’t bothered telling Brian what he was doing with his time off. He’d never understood his brother’s hostility toward the profession their mother had cherished early on in her life. Sure, some of the guys involved were a bit over the top, but so what? And anyway, not everyone was like that.
His cell buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out without thinking.
“I turned mine off when I came on board. Not going to be much use soon,” the young dancer said.
“It works in port. We’re not underway yet…” Dylan read the other dancer’s gold name badge. “…Jake.”
He tapped the screen a few times and scanned the new message from Brian.
Don’t ever get married. Lily’s being a nag.
His good humor evaporated. “Bastard.”
“Nasty breakup?”
“Something like that.” Dylan gritted his teeth and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
“That’s the way. Out of sight, out of mind.”
If only it were that easy.
“I’m so looking forward to getting to know everyone,” Jake said. He gave Dylan a lascivious wink.
Dylan rolled his eyes. It really shouldn’t bother him that everyone was going to assume he was gay. Maybe he was more like Brian than he realized.
No. I’ll never be like him. I’ll just put everyone right quickly, make my sexuality a non-issue, and move on. These next three months are all about doing my own thing.
The cruise director stalked past them, and he admired the way her uniform molded to her body. Her long golden hair swished as she walked. Dylan wondered what the soft strands would feel like across his naked chest.
Nope, he was definitely not gay.
He smiled again. Brian might be a bastard, but he’d made this break happen. Perhaps Dylan would find more than tropical seas and the rigor of dancing to treat himself with. A flash of sunlight reflected through a window, thinning the opacity of the cruise director’s skirt and outlining her long legs.
Oh man, she shouldn’t hide under all that stiff fabric.
Perhaps sensing his gaze, she turned. Her eyes flashed at him, and he smirked. He’d need to pick and choose who he associated with carefully while onboard. Starting a flirtation with someone he knew nothing about was probably not a good idea, given that he’d lied his way into the audition. Not to mention the woman was his boss.
He did always like a challenge, though. The smirk turned to a full-blown smile. Nothing like a romance to make a holiday complete. No one would be expecting anything long-term on a cruise ship.
Without the tension of the boardroom to focus on, perhaps he could put his energies into winning in the bedroom. Winning in the cruise director’s bedroom. Maybe her wall of ice just needed a real man to melt it.
“See you later,” he mumbled to Jake and headed for the stern deck. If the cruise director could enjoy the last shards of sunlight, so could he.
Beside the stern pool, he lay back in a deck chair with a beer bought from the bar and sighed.
The hard lump he sat on reminded him of Brian’s message. He took the phone out and read it again. Don’t ever get married. Lily’s being a nag.
What an ass.
On this occasion, though, he had to agree with his brother. Marriage never worked out for anyone.
Not that he needed to deal with that for the next three months at least. Relishing the sun on his face, Dylan closed his eyes and let the gentle sway of the ocean and the hum of the cruise ship’s motors lull him into a pleasant doze.
…
Maybe it was the three cocktails, or maybe it was today’s confrontation with the captain, but Michaela’s head churned as she lay in bed. So much for an early night.
“Get a grip, girl.”
Throwing her legs over the side of her small bed, she gave up on sleep and decided a walk on the deck was the thing to calm her.
Night had just closed in over the harbor, and Michaela relished the cool of the evening. A full moon sat fat and replete in the sky. Perhaps that’s what had brought her up here—it was time to break the spell of her own onboard werewolf.
The captain really was a werewolf, charming one minute, then all claws and vicious remarks the next. Why oh why had she ever let him talk her into bed with him?
“Clearly a moment of weakness,” she told the ocean.
“I wouldn’t have thought you had any of those.”
Michaela jumped. What was with people sneaking up on her today? “Who’s there?”
“I didn’t mean to give you a fright. I’m over here. On the deck chairs.”
Squinting in the dim light, Michaela made out a long, lean form stretched over a chair, but she didn’t need to see his face to recognize the deep voice of Dylan Johns. Just thinking of the way his body would look sprawled out in a deck chair made the palms of her hands tingle. Wasn’t that a sign of madness? Cocktail reaction. Definitely.
“I don’t bite. Well, not unless I’m asked to. Come on, the moon is magnificent over the water. Sit for a bit.”
“I came up to clear my head. Think I’ll keep walking. Thanks all the same,” she said stiffly.
“Suit yourself.” He paused. “Must be hard work being a woman at the top. The captain sure seems to like making your life tough.”
Michaela’s eyebrows ratcheted upwards. Sympathy? She felt a little lighter, as if someone had lifted a bag off her back.
Hang on. “I’m not sure the captain would appreciate you talking about him like that.”
“He’s not here, though, is he? Or did I read you wrong? Do you like being trodden all over by your superiors?”
This didn’t fit. Michaela struggled to make sense of what was happening through the haze of three cocktails and not enough sleep. “No, of course not.” She changed tack. “What are you doing out here?”
“Dozed off earlier. When I woke up, it seemed a shame to go below decks. I don’t get much opportunity to lie around and look at the moon. Sure you don’t want to join me?” His voice dropped to a growl that set Michaela’s skin humming. “Or do you have some other mystery man to talk to at the other end of the deck?”
Oh, God, he made her sound like a little girl. A little girl who needed someone big and broad to look after her. “No,” she said coldly and spun to go.
She banged her shin into a deck chair and was instantly angry with herself for being so clumsy. “Ouch!”
Straight away Dylan was on his feet, steadying her. “Careful. Are you okay?”
“Must be a bit wobbly. I don’t usually drink,” she said, rubbing her shin. “Damn chair.” For a moment she allowed him to hold her and leaned in to his warmth. Oh, nice. Safe. Just the right height for her to rest her forehead on his chest. Just the right breadth to protect her from the wind. His hands fit almost all the way around her waist, and they were stupidly hot. Or was that her skin?
He was the one to pull away, and when he did she missed his touch immediately. “You really should sit down, especially if you’ve been drinking,” he said.
“Okay. I guess I’m not used to walking the decks after dark.”
“Maybe you should do it more often. Moonlight suits you.”
“Does that line work on other women?” Michaela asked, then immediately wanted to slap her forehead at her own stupidity. Most likely, there were no other women.
Dylan only laughed. She accepted his hand and limped to a deck chair, careful to choose one at a bit of distance from his. His energy was potent, and even in the semidarkness the angular planes of his face made her want to stroke his cheek. God, how embarrassing, being attracted to a man who had literally no interest in her.
Michaela lay back in the
deck chair, trying to copy his relaxed posture, and took a deep breath to stop her head spinning. Maybe talking to him was a good idea. She had to do something to get the captain out of her thoughts, or she’d be even snappier with everyone than she’d been this last week. Dylan was new, and she’d already bitten off his head a couple of times on his first day. “Sorry for being so short with you earlier. You’re right, the captain got to me.”
“I’m not surprised. What an ass.”
Michaela stifled a giggle. “You really shouldn’t talk like that. It’ll get you fired.”
“You’re not going to fire me, are you?”
“Not right now.”
He was good. She was already smiling.
She liked the way his hands were still. He didn’t fidget. He was calm, considered, a grown up, and he was giving her his full attention. Michaela realized no one on the boat except Felicity had given her that common courtesy without being under orders.
“Okay then.” He paused, and she looked fixedly at the moon so he wouldn’t catch her gazing at his profile. “We could have one of those special relationships. Think of me as your doctor. You know, patient confidentiality and all that. Get it off your chest.”
Michaela almost snorted. “You’re not a doctor.”
“True. I could be your lawyer, then.”
“You’re not a lawyer, either.”
“How do you know? I could have studied law but done something else with my life.”
“Did you?”
Dylan seemed to catch himself. “No. I’m a dancer.”
“So there’s every chance you’ll go gossiping everything I say to everyone.”
That got him. His tone seemed stiffer when he replied. “I’m not a teenage girl. But you’re right, you have no reason to trust me. Except of course that you’re my boss and could fire me just because I looked at you funny.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” Even in the moonlight she could see he was smiling again. His eyes crinkled when he grinned. Nice.
“Good.” He paused. “So where were you before you got started in this business?”
“I was in the music industry.”
“Perfect. Step up and sideways, but not too far out of the box.”
“Thanks.” He got it, straight away. Michaela was impressed.
They chatted for a while, and Michaela was surprised at how easy she felt in his company. Like him, she was actually lounging in a lounge chair, relishing the evening air, simply gazing at the moon. When was the last time she’d done any of that? Dylan put her at ease like no one she’d met in…too long. Without meaning to, she told him about her career, moving on from the music business, landing her first job on a cruise ship, swiftly moving up the ranks until her boss had become ill and she had won the cruise director position after only four years at sea. He nodded and made all the right noises, dropping in brief anecdotes about himself every now and then. Her shoulders relaxed, and she closed her eyes a moment. It was good to be outside, to let her hair down.
“So what’s next?” he asked.
“I want it all,” she said with unusual candidness. “The career, money, family, everything. But for now it’s all about my career. I’m going to be off this boat and managing an international team in a year’s time, no matter what the captain thinks.”
“Good for you.” He paused. “So what did you do to the captain?”
Her eyes snapped open. The moon’s reflection quivered on the water. It was a beautiful sight. A beautiful night. What the hell.
“I haven’t told anyone this. You have to swear it’s between us.”
“On my honor.”
“I slept with him.”
“I can see why he’s so riled,” he said dryly.
Michaela laughed. “Then I ended it.”
“Ah.”
“He was the one who was married, but apparently I should have known that and just made sure I was discreet. Now he never misses a chance to rub my face in it, even though he lied through the whole thing and then denied he ever led me on.”
“So today’s warning to leave it alone with the crew…”
“If someone had given me that warning, it might have been easier for me.”
Michaela shuddered at how close she’d come to gushing about Captain Atkinson at the interview for her current position. How was she supposed to have known he was married and that his wife worked for Adventurer Cruises head office? Every time she saw his face now, she remembered the look he’d given her in the interview—the silent, deadly I-never-said-I-loved-you look. Just in time she’d gotten it, seeing the wedding band that had miraculously reappeared on his finger. Just in time, she’d seen the way he curled his body around the recruitment woman as he pulled out her chair and heard the way she called him “darling”…
“And now he’s enjoying lording the affair over you every chance he gets?” Dylan’s low tone invited her to go on.
“It’s a constant battle. Whenever I bring up issues that female passengers might have or if I request anything he decides is only necessary because someone made the mistake of putting a woman in this job, he rolls his eyes. It took me three months to get my request for a uniform that included a skirt past him and in to head office.”
“Short man syndrome,” Dylan said firmly.
“What? He’s not that short.”
“No, but it’s the same thing. He feels like you’ve taken his power away, so he’s going to make damn sure you know he’s in charge. My brother is a bit like that.”
A sense of business. This one was smarter than her usual intake, that was certain. “You sure you’re just a dancer?”
He hesitated before replying. “Of course. There’s politics everywhere.”
True. Michaela shook her head.
“Don’t let him wear you down. He’ll just think he’s won and make things even harder for you. You’re clearly a smart woman. Give him enough rope to hang himself. You won’t have to lift a finger, and you’ll still win.”
“Just suck it up, you mean?”
“I didn’t say that. You don’t have to let him walk all over you. Just politely put him in his place, but not so he loses face.”
It wasn’t bad advice.
“Feel any better?”
Michaela smiled. She did. “You’re a good listener.” A wonderful listener. “Don’t go making the same mistake I did.” She bit her lip and tried to be magnanimous. “And if one of those boys has already claimed you, I don’t want to hear about it.”
“I’m not gay.”
Thank God it was dark, because she was fairly sure her jaw actually dropped. She recovered herself enough to speak. “Of course, I wouldn’t assume…”
“It’s okay. I am a dancer, I know. No one in the dance team believes me, either.”
“I didn’t mean… I hope you don’t think… Well, thanks for listening to me rant on. I better go.” Michaela stood, almost hitting her leg again in her hurry and embarrassment.
Shit. Shit. Oh, shit.
Had she really just offended the guy who now knew her stupid secret? The guy who was a wonderful listener, gave good advice and…and what? And made her feel like more of a woman than she had in a long time.
“Welcome again, anyway,” she said.
Welcome again? What sort of lousy line was that?
Don’t make this more than it is.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Dylan said.
Breathe in, breathe out, you’re in control, you’re in charge. She recited her mantra.
“I should hope not. You promised you wouldn’t.” Michaela tried to convey authority with her tone, but it was a little hard after she’d just spilled her guts to him.
And blushed uncontrollably when you found out he wasn’t gay.
She thanked the gods again that it was dark.
“I never break a promise.”
“Good.”
Deep breath in, deep breath out, no need to go into a spin because he’s a wonderful listener, insanely
hot, and apparently available.
“See you tomorrow, first thing.” Michaela threw the comment over her shoulder as she walked off with as much dignity as she could muster. She’d just have to hope he was true to his word—and that, in the future, she could keep her reactions more under control.
Chapter Three
“Stupid, stupid.”
If it hadn’t been sure to make her deputy suspicious, Michaela would have beaten her head on her desk the next morning. Spilling everything to a dancer she’d only just met? What an idiot.
“I’m never drinking again,” she promised.
There was little time to wallow, though. This was a busy job. She hadn’t been laying it on thick for the new recruits for nothing.
“Coming to rehearsal, Michaela?”
George, the choreographer, burst into her office as if he was on stage. Despite her hangover and the mortification of what she’d told Dylan the night before, Michaela couldn’t help smiling.
Buck up, girl.
Dylan had promised he wouldn’t say anything, and the captain couldn’t lord their tryst over her forever. In fact, Dylan’s advice made as much sense in the light of day as it had in the moonlight. Taking this job had been her choice—her choice to try and prove herself in this sea of men. The captain was bound to do something stupid enough to mess up his career all on his own. Time to get on with it and leave the captain to destroy himself.
George did a little dance with a spare chair, and Michaela laughed. He was a hard taskmaster, but he produced wonderful results, giving the Pacific Empress a reputation as the best in the business.
“Sure,” Michaela said. “I’ll come see what the slave master has created.”
He took her hand and guided her around the edge of her desk, spreading kisses from her fingers to her elbow in exaggerated French style.
“Those poor boys and girls, are they exhausted yet?” she asked.
“No, but they soon will be,” he said triumphantly. “These twelve-day cruises are a bit of a killer—so many routines to learn with a show on every night. I almost feel sorry for the poor little babies. But I have a special treat this time. Did you arrange it for me? That Dylan is hardly a baby. And he’s lovely, so big and strong.”
The Billionaire Bundle Page 3
