Now, the sisters had serious plans for growth. Not only to open another bakery, but they wanted to start a traditional British tea shop as well.
But that was still down the road, Mia thought. She had her life to straighten out first and she couldn’t move forward with any of those plans until she’d put her marriage—and Sam—behind her.
And that thought brought up an instant wave of heat.
Ridiculous, that a simple turn of phrase “put Sam behind her” could remind her of all those times she’d had Sam behind her. Her breathing quickened and she told herself to stop it. Already, she was working on very little sleep because her dreams had been filled with Sam. Memories crowded into her mind, forcing her to remember not just the pain, but the joy, the passion, the—
Okay, cut it out.
She punched the dough down a little more vigorously than required, and automatically began patting it into a domed circle.
Lost in her thoughts, Mia jumped when beside her, Holly called out, “Oh, hi, Mr. Buchanan.”
“Oh, God,” Mia murmured.
Five
He was watching her, his gaze fixed, his expression unreadable.
Mia took a breath, but it didn’t stop her heart from jumping in her chest, or her blood from turning into steam in her veins. He wore a suit, of course. Navy blue, tailored to perfection, with a white dress shirt and a red tie. Cruise to Hawaii or not, Sam Buchanan was the picture of business elegance, with a touch of pirate, since his hair was a little too long.
Had she conjured Sam simply by thinking about him? No, that couldn’t be true, or he would have been appearing in her apartment constantly over the last few months. He’d been the center of her thoughts since the day they’d met and even going through a divorce hadn’t ended that.
Mia looked up and saw him, standing just inside the kitchen, watching her. Second day of the cruise and already she was seeing him way too often for her own good. How was she going to make it through two whole weeks?
“Hello Holly,” he said, then added, “Mia.”
The rest of the kitchen staff simply went about their business. They were busy prepping for dinner, so no one had time to talk—well, except for Holly. Her pastries wouldn’t be part of the amazing onboard menu until morning and the breakfast buffet.
Mia said, “Hello, Sam,” then turned back to the rosemary dough. “You can bake it in a simple round, like this,” she told Holly, “or, you can actually divide it into three, braid it and then draw the ends into a circle. Not only is it delicious, but it makes for a gorgeous presentation.”
“I’m convinced,” Holly said with a grin.
“Once it’s risen,” Mia said, “bake it for about a half hour at 375 until it’s nice and golden.”
“Got it.” Holly tossed a glance at Sam again and Mia could see she was a little tense with her boss standing there watching.
Mia knew just how she felt.
“Let me know how it turns out,” Mia said and patted Holly’s arm. Then she walked toward Sam and his gaze narrowed on her as she got closer. It was as if the hundreds of kitchen workers didn’t exist. She and Sam saw only each other. She wished she was wearing something more impressive than a simple pair of white shorts and a bright yellow, scoop-necked T-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and she wore a pair of black sneakers that were now dusted with flour. Damn it. He looked like an ad in GQ and she looked...well, like her.
She could have sworn she actually felt her skin sizzle under that stare of his. But she wouldn’t let him know it. She stopped right in front of him and keeping her voice low, said, “You’re making Holly and probably everyone else in here a little nervous.”
One eyebrow winged up and he shot a quick look around the room as if to see for himself that she was right. Shrugging, he said, “I didn’t come here for them. I came to talk to you.”
“How’d you know I was here?” And she’d thought her hiding place would see her through this cruise.
“It’s my ship, Mia,” he said, his gaze boring into hers. “I know everything that happens on it.”
“Right.” Someone had tipped him off. How nice to be a god in your own little world. She sighed. “Okay, you found me. Let’s take this somewhere else, all right?”
Mia headed out the door and into the main dining hall. Scores of tables were set up, each of them covered in pristine white cloths. Waiters were already hustling around the room, setting up carafes of ice water while others placed water and wineglasses at every setting.
She didn’t have to look behind her to know he was hot on her heels. Mia sensed his presence. The man was a force of nature. At least that’s how it had always seemed to Mia. Her very own, personal Category 5 hurricane.
He had swept into her life and turned everything upside down. And even when he had left her, there was rubble in his wake.
Through another door and they were outside on Deck Two and the wind slapped at her. Mia turned her face into the cold, salty sting of it, hoping it would clear her mind. She walked to the railing, looked out at the choppy sea, then turned to Sam as he moved up beside her.
“Why were you looking for me?”
“Just wanted to talk to you.”
“The papers?” she asked. “Did you sign them?”
“No.”
She sighed again. Why was he making this so much harder than it had to be? “Fine. What is it, then?”
“Wanted to tell you that I spoke to your parents.”
She laughed shortly, imagining just how that conversation had gone. Her parents were still furious with Sam and nothing Mia had said so far had done a thing to cool them down. She knew why, too. Her folks had welcomed Sam into their family. He’d been one of them. Then he’d walked away. From her. From the whole family. And the hurt was as real as the anger.
Maybe she hadn’t been able to cool them down because she hadn’t cooled off, either.
“Well,” she said wryly, “I bet that was fun.”
He rolled his shoulders, as if he were shrugging off a heavy weight. “Yeah, it was a party.” He scowled, then said, “Look, I talked to them because I wanted to give them a heads-up about the storm we might run into tonight.”
She blinked at him. Mia had been through storms at sea before and it was never fun. And having a storm so early on the cruise was harder still, because the passengers weren’t even accustomed to being on the ship yet—let alone having to deal with high waves and seasickness. “Really? Second night at sea and a storm?”
“Yeah, I know.” The wind ruffled his hair and he pushed it off his forehead impatiently, only to have it tossed there again. “We might miss it, but the way this day’s going, I think we’ll hit it dead-on.”
He stared into the distance as if searching for its arrival on the horizon.
“Are you worried?” Mia knew that was a pointless question. Even if he were worried, he’d never admit it. Sam was a man who always projected an aura of calm command.
“No,” he said, quickly. “And if it looks like a sure thing, we’ll give the other passengers fair warning. But I wanted to tell you and your folks first.”
“I appreciate that.” She looked up into his eyes and told herself that the coolness reflected there didn’t bother her a bit. That was a lie, of course. But then, she was lying to herself about Sam a lot these days. “Now, I’m going to go talk to Maya and Joe, tell them about the storm, so they’re prepared just in case.”
“That’s fine. Just don’t tell anyone else,” Sam said. “Not yet.”
“I won’t,” she said. “After I talk to my sister, I’m taking Charlie and Chris to the pool. I told them I’d swim with them this afternoon, so their mom and dad can have some time alone.”
“Right.” He nodded. “They probably need the break from the kids.”
Mia cocked her head to one side. “You know, they act
ually like their children. Most people do.”
“Not all,” he muttered darkly. His eyes instantly shuttered and Mia recognized the look. Sam was shutting her out of his past, out of whatever it was that had made him so determined to go through his life alone.
She had tried for nearly a year to get past the walls he’d built around himself and hadn’t succeeded. Maybe if she had, none of this would be happening. Regret and hurt rose up inside her and Mia had to choke it down.
He stepped aside so she could move past him, then he caught her upper arm and held her in place. “Mia...”
One touch and she was on fire. Mia really resented that he had that power over her. She looked from his hand to his eyes and when he immediately released her, she was sorry for that too. The silky burn of his fingers on her skin remained though, as if to taunt her.
“Was there something else, Sam?”
He looked as though he wanted to say more, but a moment later, he clamped his lips together and shook his head. “No. It’s nothing.”
Mia’s breath caught in her throat and her heartbeat hammered. Standing this close to him was unnerving. She wondered idly if it would always be that way. Would she, in thirty years, run into Sam somewhere, shake his hand and instantly dissolve into a needy puddle?
That thought brought a sting of tears she didn’t want to shed. Thirty years without Sam? When she’d been without him for only a few months and already his loss was tearing her apart? How would she ever go the rest of her life without seeing him? Being with him?
By building the kind of life you want, she reminded herself.
And that started in January. All she had to do was get him to sign the papers, survive the rest of this cruise and then she’d be free and clear to begin the journey she’d mapped out for herself.
“Well then. Like I said,” Mia whispered, “thanks for the warning about the storm.” She left quickly, because if she didn’t, she might not leave his side at all.
And where would that get her?
* * *
Of course they hit the storm.
Alone, Sam told himself he should have proposed his ‘deal’ to Mia when he’d talked to her last. He’d thought about it, but the timing had felt...off. And now, that deal had to be put on the backburner.
“Have to give Kira a raise,” Sam muttered. “She called it right down to the hour.”
At seven, the first of the heavy waves began to push at the ship, as if trying to turn it around. But the Captain was experienced and one of the best in the world—Sam knew this because he and his brother Michael only hired the best. The ship pushed on and the sea fought them for every mile.
The sky shattered with crashes of thunder and splinters of lightning, illuminating the waves and the empty decks of the ship. The crew were hustling, checking on the passengers, and helping to keep everyone calm, by singing Christmas carols in the dining hall. The youth counselors were keeping the kids busy with games and crafts. For those passengers who’d elected to stay in their suites, their bedroom stewards were doing all they could to help.
Sam spent most of the early evening up on the bridge, where he could watch his employees defy the storm as the ship punched right through the middle of it. By midnight, the waves were a little higher, the decks a little emptier and Sam was tired of being shut up on the computerized bridge that looked futuristic enough to be a spaceship.
Braving the howling wind and the cold sea spray jetting up when wave met hull, Sam stalked the decks, doing his own wellness check. Walking wasn’t easy and more than once, he had to make a grab for the railing. But he’d grown up around ships, so he was more than prepared to deal. He didn’t run into another soul until he came around the corner on Deck Two, where ordinarily, lines of chaise lounges were set out, tempting passengers to stretch out and enjoy being waited on while they took in a spectacular view.
Now though, the lounges had been folded up and stowed away for safety. It was like a ghost ship—there was only the storm and Sam.
Then he saw her.
His heart leaped. His body burned and he knew that the backburner thing was done. Just one look at her and Sam was in a tangle of need and emotions that both confused and aroused him.
Mia was at the rail. Her hair was a twisted tangle in the wind and she wore jeans, sneakers and a windbreaker that probably wasn’t doing much good.
Irritated that she was out by herself in a storm, all he could think was, she might be swept overboard and no one would know it until it was far too late to save her. That thought and the resulting images that appeared in his mind made his blood run cold. With the thought of losing her at the forefront of his mind, Sam stalked to her side and grabbed her arm.
Mia jumped, startled. “Damn it, Sam! You scared the crap out of me!”
“Good,” he retorted. “Then we’re even. Hell, when I saw you standing out here it damn near stopped my heart. What are you doing out here in this storm?”
“I like it,” she said, then pulled her arm from his grasp and turned her back on him as if expecting him to turn around and leave her there alone.
Not going to happen.
He grabbed her again. Hell, the wind was strong enough to pick her up and toss her over the railing. “If you went overboard in this storm, no one would even notice until it was too late to save you.”
“I’m not a complete idiot, Sam,” she said, not bothering to turn her head to look at him. “I’m not going to fall overboard.”
“Yeah, nobody plans to fall.”
“Honestly,” she snapped, finally looking up at him and tugging her arm free again. “I’m not your responsibility. Don’t you have something more important to do?”
“Not at the moment,” he said, glancing around the empty deck. Close to midnight, the night was quiet but for the thunderous slap of waves against the hull and the now distant growl of thunder. Deck lights threw puddles of lamplight into the darkness, illuminating the deck enough that any late-night wanderer would be safe. When they weren’t in a storm.
“I couldn’t stay in our suite any longer.” She raised her voice to be heard over the cacophony going on around them. “You know I love a storm. At least you should know it.”
“I do,” he said. And memories crowded his mind. Any time a storm blew in off the ocean, Mia would head out to the balcony off the condo living room to watch it. Most women he’d known worried about their hair, their makeup, but Mia walked into the rain and the wind and never cared what she looked like. Which only made her more beautiful.
And he remembered a night like this one when they were on a cruise to Bermuda. They’d stayed on their private deck and let the storm howl around them like a living thing. They’d laughed like fools as the sea spray and rain soaked them and then the laughter had ended when they made love right there on the rain-slicked private deck.
His body twisted tight and hard and he nearly groaned at the ache that settled on him. That night, Mia had said that the storm was magic—but Sam had always believed that she was the magic. Letting her go had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. But if he’d known, even then, that staying with her would have dimmed that magic and he couldn’t take the thought of that. He didn’t know how to be what she wanted him to be. So for her sake, he’d let her go.
“It’s still dangerous, Mia.”
“I’ll risk it, Sam.”
Hardheaded woman. Why did he like that so much? “You should head back to your suite.”
“Are you?”
“No, but it’s my ship. I want to check a few things.”
“Isn’t that your crew’s job?”
There was an old argument. She’d always believed that he should delegate more. “They’re busy. Why are you out here, anyway?”
“I told you, I like storms.” When he only stared at her, she blew out a breath, curled her fingers around the top rail and s
aid, “Well, the boys got seasick—though I think it had more to do with the gallons of hot chocolate they had after dinner than the rocking of the ship. That was an ugly hour or so.” She grimaced. “Anyway, Maya was cleaning up and then she got sick. Between the ship rocking and the boys—well, another ugly hour. Joe put the boys in my bedroom so Maya could rest and I moved out to the couch to sleep.”
“You’re going to sleep on the couch?” The sofas were nice, top grade, but sleeping on one wasn’t the best idea.
She shrugged. “It’s not that bad. So far. Ask me at the end of the cruise. Anyway, I couldn’t sleep with all the moaning going on, so I came out here to be alone.”
He ignored that not-too-subtle hint, because Sam wasn’t about to leave her alone on deck in a storm. “I can have maintenance go to their suite and clean things up.”
She tipped her head to one side and looked at him. “Thanks. But not necessary. Our Bed Steward, Robert, helped Joe and I clean things up and most of the misery was over before I left...”
Sam made a mental note to give Robert a bonus. It sounded like he’d earned it. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch, Mia.”
“Well, it’s better than the floor,” she said on a half laugh. “And it’s not the first time I’ve slept on a couch.”
“No.” He took her arm and turned her to face him. The wind buffeted them and sea spray soaked the air from the incessant crashing of the waves against the hull. Her long red hair was tangled and wet. Droplets of water clung to her cheeks and her green eyes were like a forest at twilight in the shadows.
Sam didn’t want to feel this need for Mia clawing at his insides. But he didn’t know how to make it stop—and even if he could, Sam knew deep in his soul, that he would miss it if it ever ended. What he felt for Mia was unlike anything he’d ever known before and maybe, he thought, that’s part of why he’d had to walk away.
It seemed though, that desire for Mia was simply inevitable. She’d had this effect on him from the first moment he’d met her. Nothing had changed. Leaving her hadn’t done it. A divorce wouldn’t do it. Mia was his wife. Mia was the woman he wanted.
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