Docked

by Wade, Rachael

  Tanner’s fists flex and tighten in his pants pockets. His expression turns from entertained to perplexed, his eyebrows knitting closely together. “Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I mean, you’re the owner, right? Don’t companies and owners of cruise ships, ya know, sit at home in fancy offices or swanky cubicles somewhere?”

  “Not always. Not me. I could check in on the ship’s sailings a lot less often, but I choose not to. I love to sail, love the ocean. I come aboard whenever I get the chance. Getting acquainted with my guests is very important to me.” He responds with complete certainty, a comfortable self-assurance. It’s sexy.

  “Are you married?”

  “Lana!”

  “Because you should be.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “What? He should be.” She gestures to him, glancing at me sideways. “Handsome, successful, friendly…”

  “She’s sorry.” I smile up at Tanner, biting my lip. He’s shaking his head softly, looking down at his expensive shoes with a playful, knowing grin. He knows. He must get this all the time from women on the ship. He can’t be more than 30—awfully young to own a ship like this—and he carries himself well. You’d have to be daft not to notice this man.

  “No, I’m not,” Lana retorts, standing to her feet. She brings herself eye level with him, all sassy and Lana-like, although his height still overpowers her. “Care to give us a tour of the ship, Mr. Christensen?”

  Cool surprise sheaths his face, but he takes it in stride. “I’d be honored to, but I’m actually on my way to a meeting at the moment. I’d be happy to escort you to a staff member who can show you around, if you wish. Would that suffice?”

  “Nah, that’s okay. We’d prefer to take a tour with you, personally.”

  I clear my throat and slowly rise to my feet to stand with Lana. She has one hand planted on her hip, while the other toys with the strings of her bikini bottom. As I rise, I suddenly feel as I did a moment ago, when Tanner’s hand was enclosing mine—small and naked. Very, very naked.

  I cross my arms and smile sweetly, bumping my shoulder into Lana’s side. “We understand. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Christensen.”

  The blue flecks in his eyes dance as he glances at me, studying me for a second, then at his chrome watch. “Tell you what. When the ship leaves port, I’ll be in the Marais lounge on Deck 10, Aft. That’s where we celebrate setting sail. Come find me, and I’ll show you around.”

  “Great! We’ll be there,” Lana replies quickly.

  “If it’s not an inconvenience,” I add. “You must get these requests all the time.”

  Tanner tilts his head and looks at me dead on. His lashes lower for a second and he studies me again. “No inconvenience at all. I look forward to it. In the meantime, happy hunting, ladies. Oh,” he leans in and lowers his voice, “and if you’re looking for Mr. Right, I suggest the Bordeaux Room on Deck 8, Forward. It’s open every evening and I hear the selection is impressive.” He smirks and gently touches my shoulder. I am acutely aware of his nearness, and I half expect his fingers to stick to my shoulder with lime juice. Instead the contact is brief, his fingers smooth and warm.

  “Ooooh, he’s a matchmaker, too! See, An, he’s a winner.” Lana elbows me and wiggles her fingers at him, watching as he strolls off. He stops a few feet away from us to briefly greet more guests, and then disappears down the deck through a set of double doors.

  “Now that is what I call exceptional service,” Lana sings, fanning herself. “Hallelujah, we have a date. What’ll we wear? We better get back to the room and start preparing!”

  “What do you mean, we?” I snort, moving to plop back down on my lounge chair. “You mean you. I just got here.”

  “You’re not coming?” she shrieks in disbelief, spinning around to join me. She settles on the edge of my chair, whimpering like a puppy. “You have to come, An. Please? Did you not just get an eyeful of that hunk of male who offered to show us around? Don’t spoil my fun!”

  “I’m not spoiling anything. You have him all to yourself. Go have fun.” I snap open my bottle of sunscreen and begin to lather up, ignoring her pout. “And yes, I did see him. Any woman with a pulse sees him.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “I’d much rather sit out here until the sun goes down and sip a margarita than be your matchmaking guinea pig, thank you very much.”

  “Ugh. Anya, I don’t care what I have to do, I’m dragging your ass to that party, and you will shamelessly flirt with that man.”

  “Lana…”

  “Wear your dress! The little black one with the dip in the back. It looks stunning on you. Come on, An, don’t make me beg.”

  “Too late.”

  Lana slaps my thigh and rises, bending to snatch up her tote bag and towel. “I’ve convinced you, you just don’t know it yet. I’m gonna bail on the sunbathing and head back to the room. I need to pick out an outfit and start primping.”

  “Suit yourself. Bye,” I drawl, swatting her butt. She sticks out her tongue at me and shuffles away, leaving me with the sun reflecting off the turquoise pool water and the sounds of reggae floating on the sea breeze. I adjust my sunglasses and rest my head back, peeking over at my previous admirer. He’s in the pool now, laughing with his friends. He’s already moved on and is making a move on another brunette near the stepladder. Good riddance. I need a man, not a boy. Preferably one like the delectable Mr. Christensen. But on my own terms, not my nosey best friend’s.

  I inhale deeply and close my eyes, soaking up the rich vitamin D until I’m relaxed and drifting off to sleep.

  ***

  A soft breeze tickles my shoulder, waking me from my serene, sleepy haze. One glance at my watch tells me it’s time to head back to the room if I expect to be ready for this rendezvous with Lana and Mr. Blue Eyes. She’s right, of course. She’s convinced me to go. But only because it really does sound like fun, and I’d much rather let Lana humor herself than spend my first afternoon on a cruise ship by myself.

  I collect my things and hurry down the deck, veering around a corner to catch the elevator. The hallway is bustling with people getting on and off, many of them opting to take the stairs instead of waiting for the next lift. After waiting patiently for a few minutes, I decide to follow their cue and start for the stairs. I’m cutting it close.

  I jog up two flights, sighing when our stateroom door comes into view. The hall is quiet, except for the faint sound of hushed giggling just a few doors down. I insert my room key and crane my head toward the noise, my fingers stilling at the sight. There at the end of the hall, a curvaceous brunette is entangled with Mr. Blue Eyes. I almost don’t recognize him, but his baby blue tie immediately gives him away. His tall frame is pinning the brunette’s petite one to the wall, one hand pushing up her skirt, fingers gripping her upper thigh. He playfully bites her bottom lip and she giggles again, hooking her leg around his waist. The scene is entirely intimate, not to mention unprofessional for Mr. Owner of the Ship, and yet here I am, watching like a total stalker.

  I can’t look away.

  “Tanner,” the girl moans against his mouth, “take me inside.”

  “I’ll take you right here.”

  “Someone will see,” she whispers, gripping his forearms. He subtly rocks his hips, pushing her tighter against the wall, and I realize I’m gaping again, my jaw slack as I watch his hands roam over her body.

  “No one’s around,” he whispers back. “Everyone’s headed up to the lounge for the party.”

  “Don’t you have to be there?”

  “I have fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s it?” The girl whines, her face turning pouty.

  “Oh, it’s enough, baby.” His hand travels higher up her skirt, and I see a flash of red lace before my clumsiness gives me away. The room key fumbles in my fingers and drops from the doorknob to the floor. I quickly bend to swipe it up, bonking my head on the doorknob in the process.

  “
Shit!” I quickly stand, frantically attempting to open the door. I risk a side-glance toward them.

  I wish I hadn’t.

  Tanner clears his throat, and his eyes lock onto me like missiles. As soon as I meet them, he looks away, back to the brunette, mumbling something I can’t quite make out. It involves a string of F-bombs. Adjusting his groin and tugging at the sleeves of his suit jacket, he quietly directs the brunette to open their stateroom door. She’s amused and embarrassed, covering her mouth as she struggles to unlock the door. Tanner and I exchange one last glance before both of our doors open, saving the day. He and the brunette hurry inside, and I hustle into my room just as quickly, exhaling in relief the moment the door shuts behind me.

  I work to collect my wits. I’ve just made a complete fool out of myself, and in less than fifteen minutes, I’m supposed to face the man I just caught manhandling his girlfriend. Hell, more than that. He would have fucked her right there in the hallway had I not ruined the heat of the moment. I fall back against the door and hang my head in exasperation.

  “Lan?” I call out, pushing myself off the door and moving toward the tiny bathroom. She’s not there, and the rest of the cabin is empty. She must have left for the lounge already. Hurrying to my suitcase, I dig around for my little black dress—the one Lana suggested I wear—and then begin washing up. I take a few minutes to freshen up my loose, brown curls and apply some smoky eyeliner to enhance my hazel brown eyes. I feel fresher, but no amount of primping will prevent the big ol’ pile of awkward I’m about to walk into.

  TWO

  The Marais Lounge welcomes me on Deck 10 Aft with just as much elegance—if not more—than our stateroom. The drapes are lush red, dripping with jewels, and the dark mahogany wrap-around bar brings me back to the 1940s. There are Art Deco touches everywhere, mixed with curvaceous provincial designs that span the entire lounge. From the carpeting to the chandeliers, the space is rife with decadence.

  I spot Lana from the entrance. She’s already chatting away with a group of men, her fiery red hair wrapped up in a pretty French twist, her body encased in her favorite navy blue swing dress. She wore it for the magazine’s tenth anniversary gala, and it looks just as charming on her now as it did then. I weave my way through the throngs of people, scanning the perimeter for any signs of Mr. Blue Eyes. So far, I’m in luck. Maybe his hot and heavy tryst with the brunette ran later than expected and I’ll be spared.

  “Yay, you came!” Lana does a little wiggle when she sees me, reaching out to give me a warm squeeze. “You look fab, doll. Did you have fun at the pool?”

  “Oh, you mean after you ditched me?” I poke her arm with a smile, complimenting her on her dress. “I fell asleep. It was glorious.”

  “Ha! That’s what vacation’s for, love. And it’s just getting started. We’re leaving port in less than five minutes. I’m so excited, I can’t stand it. Come to the bar with us?” She nods to the men behind her, who are all waiting to escort her. “This is Carlos, Micah, and Jonah.” She grins deviously when her back is to them, and I stifle a laugh. We haven’t even left port yet, and she already has a line of contenders ready and waiting.

  “Sure,” I shrug, “why not?”

  “That’s my girl! Thank God, you’re starting to loosen up. I told you I’d talk some sense into you.” She hooks her arm with mine and brings us face to face with her boy toys, telling them to lead the way. We start our stroll across the room toward the bar, but Lana’s gaze is everywhere except on the men in front of us. “Damn. I haven’t seen him yet, have you? He said he’d be here. You don’t think he’d stand us up, do you? I mean, that’s pretty unprofessional.”

  “Ha,” I laugh darkly under my breath, “I don’t think he’s concerned about that.”

  “Huh?” she asks absently, her eyes bouncing from left to right. She stops to stand on her tiptoes to peek around. “What makes you say that?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Well, if he shows, he shows, I guess.” She sticks her bottom lip out and refocuses. “Anyway, so listen. When we leave port, I won’t leave your side, got it? Not until you’re positive you’re okay.”

  “Thanks, Lan. But I’ll be okay, really.” I squeeze her arm fondly, knowing she can see right through my façade. I don’t know if I’ll be okay. I’m afraid I won’t be. But now that I’m on the ship, I’m determined to stick this trip out. It’s a vacation for Lana and me to spend some girl time together, but it’s also our job. When these twelve days of sailing are over, Four Corners Elite magazine is expecting us to report back with a solid, honest piece on our experience aboard the Trident Voyager. We were granted this expense on behalf of the magazine, so sadly, this cruise is not all about fun and games, as much as I know Lana wishes it were. She had to fight to get our boss to splurge on the extra expense just to bring me along, saying she needed me to assist with research. We all know the true motive behind that one, though.

  We reach the bar and Lana resumes chatting wildly with Carlos, Micah, and Jonah. Carlos is a linebacker and much too full of himself for my taste, but he offers to buy me a drink and I let him, knowing it won’t be long before Lana swoops in and steals him away. I can tell she’s already got her sights set on him, and I’m glad, because it’s Jonah I’m interested in talking to. He’s currently working on his master’s in international communications, and he speaks four languages. He’s not stuffy, and thank God, not full of himself. His laidback persona puts me at ease, distracting me from the fact that the horn has sounded, announcing our departure.

  “Oh, it’s time!” Lana squeals, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go out on the deck and wave everyone off.”

  “We have no one to wave off,” I laugh.

  “Who cares! We have to be on deck for this. You can’t miss it, An. It’s beautiful. Come on!” She excuses herself from Carlos and Micah, and I thank Jonah for the chat, scurrying to keep up with her.

  “Don’t be long,” Jonah calls after me, beaming from the bar. He’s all man, with a sexy five o’clock shadow and warm, molten chocolate eyes. I wave and smile apologetically over my shoulder.

  “We could’ve asked them to join us, you know,” I say to Lana as she tows me through the lounge exit.

  “Nah, we have to keep them wanting more. We’ll meet up with them again in a bit.” We hustle up to the deck railing and Lana flings herself forward, gripping the rail with gusto. “Au revoir, mes amis!” she shouts at the top of her lungs, waving to the strangers ashore like a lunatic. Her enthusiasm lights me up, contagious as always, and I join her in waving crazily at the faces down below. I work hard to focus, try to lose myself in the spirit of the event, but my gut can’t help but plummet when the shore begins to drift farther and farther away. Little by little, we’re being dragged out to sea, and in hours, maybe minutes, all we’ll be able to see is nothing but the pure blue expanse of ocean, holding us captive.

  A throat clears behind us, sending us pivoting around.

  “Exciting, isn’t it?” Tanner replies, standing there in the same suit he donned just hours ago. His gaze flicks to mine and I steel myself and look away, feeling my cheeks turn ten shades of red. I chance peeking back up. His thick, dark lashes sweep down for a moment before he directs his gaze out to the sea.

  “Thrilling,” Lana says, clapping her hands. “We thought you blew us off, Mr. Christensen.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m a man of my word.” He unleashes a charming grin, splaying his feet and stationing himself between us. Casually adjusting his chrome watch, he nods to the ocean. “This is the best spot to watch the sun go down, by the way. It’s not to be missed.”

  “Well, it won’t be long, now,” Lana says, following his gaze with a wistful sigh. “I could never get tired of this. I need to tell my boss to send us out here more often.”

  “Your boss?” Tanner asks with interest.

  “Yeah, Anya and I work for Four Corners Elite. The travel publication. Have you heard of it?”

  “Of course,
I have. It’s only one of the best.”

  “The best,” Lana corrects him playfully. “We’ll be reviewing our experience on your ship for a feature piece.”

  “Oh?”

  “No pressure,” she jokes, giving him a flirty tap of the shoulder. I remain quiet, but I feel her eyes on me. She’s giving me that look. The one that says she’s about to stir up trouble. And of course, she does. “This is Anya’s first cruise. She’s deathly afraid of the ocean.”

  My eyes widen.

  “Is that so?” Tanner pipes up, his interest growing. He shifts his head to look at me, his expression calm and cool, but his eyes are cautious. I would be cautious too, if I were caught in the act by a travel magazine writer who’d soon be reviewing my ship.

  “Yup, she’s crazy brave. I couldn’t do it. Not after what she’s been through—”

  “Lana,” I cut her off, smiling through my teeth, “I think I’ll run into the lounge for another glass of champagne. Would you like one?”

  “That’s okay,” she narrows her eyes and turns on her heel, quickly slinking off. “I’ll get us some. You two chat. I’ll be right back.”

  Curses explode inwardly, and my hands wrap around the railing in a vice grip. Damn her! I will myself to think of something to say, anything that will dodge the elephant in the room, but I come up short.

  “So, Miss Banks,” Tanner starts, rocking back on his heels.

  “Please, call me Anya.”

  We both keep our gazes trained straight ahead.

  “Anya. You’re a feature writer for Four Corners Elite?”

  “More like a junior contributing writer. With some perks.”

  “You won’t be writing the review?”

  “Oh, I’ll get to share my insight, but it’s the assistant editor who gets final say. That’s Lana. She’ll get the credit for the piece.”

  “I see. That doesn’t bother you?”

  “No, why would it?”

  “I don’t know.” He rolls a shoulder and his suit sleeve brushes my arm. I bristle at the contact. “Seems a bit unfair, that’s all.”