Pages of Passion

by Girard, Dara

  “I can call—”

  She waved away the suggestion. “No, I just need to get him back to the ship. Now. Please follow me.” She turned and ran back in the direction from which she’d come.

  The driver followed in his car. When they arrived where Michael was, they both helped him into the cab. Noreen sat in the backseat with him. He slid down, resting his head on her lap.

  She stiffened, surprised.

  “Please,” he moaned, sensing her hesitation. “This feels good. I promise I won’t go to sleep.”

  Noreen swallowed, staring down at his profile. He had short spiky lashes and some gray in his dark hair. He was likely closer to forty than thirty. She wondered where he’d been walking to and what had happened to his companion. After a few minutes she realized his breathing was too even. She gently pinched his cheek. “You promised you wouldn’t fall asleep.”

  “Right,” he said in a groggy voice. “I’m not.”

  “Where were you going?” she asked, determined to keep him awake.

  “I was just walking.”

  “To nowhere in particular?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still have my ring?”

  “Yes, it’s in my pocket.”

  “Good.” Her sister would never have forgiven her if she’d lost the ring their father had given her. Noreen moved Michael’s cape aside and slid her hand into his pocket, retrieving the ring. She hastily put it on.

  He moaned.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” He was quiet then said, “You’ve done it before.”

  “What?”

  “Picked pockets.”

  He was right. Her uncle had taught her when she was a child. He’d introduced it to her like it was a game, and she was surprised how much she’d remembered. “I wasn’t picking your pocket. I was getting what was mine.”

  “Same action, different intention. You’re good.”

  “Good?”

  “I’ve never had someone take something from me and enjoyed it.”

  “Hmm,” Noreen said, unable to think of a suitable reply.

  Finally, the taxi arrived at the dock and stopped in front of the ship. “Stay here. I’ll get some help.”

  Michael sat up. “I can make it on my own.”

  “You’re too—” Noreen stopped talking because he wasn’t listening to her as he opened the cab door.

  “My wallet…I need to pay the driver.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Noreen said. “If you’ll just wait—”

  But of course he didn’t and climbed out of the car. “I’ll pay you back,” he said.

  He might not be a hero or villain but he was definitely stubborn. With the taxi driver, Noreen helped Michael to the ship. They had gotten halfway up the plank when two crew members saw them and came to assist. Immediately, the ship’s doctor was called and the ship’s captain contacted. In the chaos, Noreen managed to pay the taxi driver and offered a generous tip, provided a crew member with detailed information about the accident and Michael’s injuries, and instructed the captain to contact the police without delay.

  Three hours later, as Noreen paced the sick bay while Michael lay on a sterile white bed and drifted in and out of consciousness, she wondered what she was doing there. He was fine, so she should leave him. But for some reason she couldn’t. She liked being around him. He fascinated her. She briefly stopped pacing and stared at him in wonder. He was enormous, like a fallen lion, majestic and beautiful. Something that usually frightened others intrigued her. She was surprised she’d been able to move him; he had felt like a cement block and while she knew she’d feel the pain of falling and helping him tomorrow, for now she didn’t care.

  What are you all about, Michael? Why are you so taken with Arlene? Is it the clothes? Noreen bit her lip and studied him. Perhaps she’d misjudged him. Maybe he wasn’t the player or bastard she’d first pegged him to be. Had Arlene’s luck changed? Could this be her chance to get her sister away from that no-good Clyde? She leaned closer to the bed. He had a nice profile. And he was kind. Even though he’d been in pain he’d offered to pay for the taxi.

  What if he’d tried to talk to “Arlene” because he’d been lonely? Maybe he’d just lost his wife and decided to come on the cruise for a second chance, Noreen thought, trying to come up with a history for him. Maybe he was trying to date again and was working on his technique. He probably ran a large company selling office supplies…no, hardware. Yes, that suited him. He’d taken the business over from his father and doubled its profits within months. He had no children, but definitely wanted them in the future. If Arlene was pregnant she’d need a man who would be a good father and if she wasn’t pregnant, making babies with him would be a lot of fun.

  Noreen started to pace again. Where had that thought come from? He did not suit her. Any interest she had in him would only be for Arlene’s sake. She should just go. But for some reason she didn’t want him to wake up alone. She felt responsible for him, even though he was evidently arrogant and stubborn. Tonight she’d acted completely out of character for Arlene. Arlene would have run screaming in the other direction and not gotten herself involved. Her sister hated the sight of blood and was usually always the one being rescued, not rescuing others.

  Not that Noreen would consider herself involved. Just concerned. He was like a story that she had to finish. Noreen assured herself that once she knew he was all right, the story would end.

  “Do you have a problem keeping still?” he muttered, his voice sounding like a bass drum.

  Noreen stopped. “Oh good, you’re awake.” She walked over to his bed and stared down at a pair of hazel eyes surrounded by soot-dark lashes. “Do you know where you are?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “You’re in the sick bay and it’s a little over…” She checked her watch. “Eleven-thirty at night. You were in an accident, but I spoke to the doctor and she assured me that you are going to recover. Your ribs are bruised but not broken. You didn’t suffer a concussion or any major head trauma. They gave you a sedative to help you sleep and pain medication.” She saw a slight smile curve his lips. “What?”

  “Nothing, please continue.”

  “I spoke to the captain and they will address this issue. They have decided that the next time the company hosts a party at the mansion they will close off the street. I’m still very upset. You could have been killed, and that idiot hit you and just drove off. Thank goodness the car was designed with a low front, so you were scooped up rather than hit full-on, and fortunately you’re in great physical condition. That’s an observation, not a compliment.” She was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop; his unnerving stare made it impossible. “Also I’m glad that your dagger was plastic. What if you’d fallen on it and stabbed yourself? But I guess since it was covered with a sheath that likely wouldn’t have happened.” She took a breath and smoothed out a wrinkle in his bedsheet. “My name is No—Arlene Webster and I only came here to make sure you are all right. And you look great, uh, a little worse for wear,” she quickly amended. “But that’s to be expected, right?” She took a step back. “And I’m not saying anything you don’t already know so I’ll just—”

  “You really were worried about me,” he said as though he couldn’t believe it.

  “Of course. It was an awful thing to see.” Her eyes suddenly felt moist as she thought about the possibility that he could have been killed.

  “Thanks for everything.”

  “Anyone would have done the same.” When he winced, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “I want to sit up,” Michael said, struggling to do just that.

  “Here, let me help you.” Noreen adjusted the pillows then helped him sit up. He was bare from the waist up and beautifully made. She couldn’t keep her eyes from falling to his muscled physique. He’d felt like stone, but the touch of his skin felt smooth beneath her fingers. “You’re hot,” she said, touching the side of his neck. “I wonder if you’re run
ning a fever.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow and his beautiful eyes twinkled with a dangerous gleam. “If I’m hot, it’s not because I’m running a fever.”

  Noreen felt heat on her cheeks but kept her voice neutral. With him she felt anything but numb and that was unnerving. “Do you need anything to drink?” She gestured to the table beside him. “I had them put this water and an ice bucket here for you and it’s within reach so you can get to it at any time. The most important thing in healing is being comfortable.” She arranged the pillows behind him then gently pushed him back and grabbed the sheets and tucked them in around him. She was about to straighten a pillow behind his head again when she felt him staring at her. She met his gaze and her skin tingled. “What?”

  “You’re just not what I expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly.

  “Just pretend that I’m a nurse.”

  He flashed a quick grin. “Right now I’m pretending a lot of things.”

  Noreen didn’t know how to reply, so she cleared her throat.

  He reached out and touched her sleeve. “I like your dress. It feels so good.”

  Noreen looked down at her witch’s costume. She’d forgotten to change. No wonder the doctor and other crew members had looked at her with amusement. But she wasn’t going to blush like she knew Noreen would. She had to remember she was Arlene. Noreen rested a hand on her hip. “Only ‘feels’ good? Doesn’t it look good too?”

  Michael’s eyes measured the length of her. “I was going to get to that.” He suddenly frowned. “What happened to your shoes?”

  Noreen followed his gaze. “Oh, drats! I forgot about them. I wonder if it’s too late to go back and get them. I had to take them off when I ran after you. I fell flat on my face, the first time, like a stupid heroine in a dumb horror film. I tore my dress and cut my leg. Then when I tried to help you get up I bruised my knee and—”

  His gaze sharpened with alarm. “I hurt you?”

  “No,” Noreen said quickly, wishing she hadn’t mentioned the incident because it seemed to upset him. “It was nothing, really. I was just talking.”

  “Let me see it,” he demanded.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No, you just want an excuse to see my legs,” she teased but his expression didn’t change, the hard, determined gleam didn’t leave his eyes. He was definitely stubborn, but so was she. “Don’t worry, I’m okay,” she said then quickly smiled to soften her refusal. “What are a few cuts and bruises to getting hit by a car? I’m just happy you’re all right.”

  Michael briefly closed his eyes and mumbled “Dios mío.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  He opened his eyes and grinned. “No, I’m thanking God for an angel.”

  “Hardly.” Noreen took a step back. He looked exhausted and needed to sleep. “Well, I’ll just…” She let her words trail off when he crooked his finger, gesturing her to come closer. She leaned toward him. He crooked his finger more. She bent closer and turned her ear to him in case he wanted to whisper something. Instead he placed his lips against her cheek. Just as she’d imagined, his lips were his best feature and the soft, warm touch of them on her skin made her entire body grow hot. She snapped back, her hand on her cheek. “What was that for?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You thanked me before,” she said, trying desperately to look into his eyes and not lower.

  His eyes danced with humor. “I’m thanking you again.”

  Be Arlene, Noreen scolded herself. Arlene wouldn’t be flustered by a little kiss. “I prefer cash or jewelry.”

  “Gold or silver?”

  “I like anything that shines or sparkles.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he said, his tone serious.

  Noreen cleared her throat. Time for “Arlene” to leave. “You really should sleep,” she said and left before his intense gaze could convince her to stay.

  Chapter Five

  His head felt as if it had been hit with a cement block and his body as if it had been flattened by a bulldozer, but Michael still had a smile on his face. He remembered staring up at the night sky once Arlene had left him alone and making the sign of the cross, thanking God for his good fortune. He’d finally figured out how to get under her hard shell. She was a nurturer and he was going to use that weakness to his advantage.

  Michael couldn’t believe his luck. He never suspected that of her, not from the profile he’d gotten. But he was creating a profile of his own. She had a tough exterior that hid an inner tenderness. It was obvious that she’d been hurt before and that’s why she kept people at a distance, but she’d held him close in the taxicab. He sighed with pleasure at the memory. He thought about the sensual feel of velvet against his skin when he’d rested his head on her lap while riding back to the ship, her warm fingers as they flitted across his chest as she helped him while he was in bed and her soft body as she leaned over him to adjust his pillows. He would have preferred resting his head on her chest. He’d had to resist reaching up to touch her.

  No, she wasn’t what he’d expected. His smile quickly vanished. That was the problem. All the information he’d received about Arlene Webster didn’t fit—she was petite and strong but also a bit of an airhead. That had to be an act. Arlene was no ditz. She was smart and very sweet and, surprisingly, a little shy. Michael could sense her awareness of him and her hesitation. Harris’s women usually didn’t hesitate and they were easy to read. He liked his women simple so he could easily manipulate them.

  From what he’d observed, Arlene wasn’t easy to manipulate. Something else was going on. Harris must have changed his “type” to throw them off.

  Michael sighed. He thought this was going to be a dull assignment, as they usually were. He charmed a specific target and got all the information he wanted, but this was different. Somehow he knew it wouldn’t be easy. It certainly wouldn’t be dull. He was going to have to keep a closer eye on Arlene and he knew that he was going to enjoy every minute of it. He’d never had anyone look after him. He was used to being on his own. He hadn’t expected to wake up and find her there.

  And she hadn’t been sitting quietly by his bedside. She had been pacing his room with untapped energy. At that moment he could imagine putting that energy to good use. Michael felt his body respond to the thought and shook his head. No, that wasn’t why he was here. No matter how tempting she was—and she certainly was tempting—he was on a job. But he planned to enjoy keeping her company.

  Of course, he knew he couldn’t enjoy it too much. She belonged to another man and he had enough troubles already.

  She shouldn’t call him. Noreen stared at the phone the next morning trying to come up with all the reasons to leave Michael Vaughn alone. She had gotten his full name when she’d registered him. He was probably fine. She had to stop worrying. Arlene wouldn’t worry. He was just bruised—he would heal. He was healthy and didn’t need her to harass him. No, she didn’t need to call him. Of course, she could stop by the sick bay on her way to the banquet hall just to make sure he was okay. Perhaps he needed help with his breakfast or something else.

  Noreen shook her head. No, she shouldn’t think that way. He was probably doing very well without her. If he needed help he could call someone. There were nurses. She took a deep breath. She was supposed to be Arlene and Arlene would go to breakfast and not think about him again, at least not until he was better. Arlene liked her men handsome and strong. Not stretched out on a bed, aching with pain. The thought of him in any type of discomfort started her worrying again, but she brushed it aside.

  Noreen changed into a soft violet-colored blouse and a tight rayon skirt that she had been able to lengthen a bit by taking out the hem. She looked nothing like she did last night. The dramatic makeup she had worn had been replaced with Arlene’s flashy red lipstick and purple eyeshadow. She was no longer a sorceress and he no longer a pirate. Just as the night
had come to an end, so had any connection between them. She had to forget him.

  But she couldn’t. She thought about him all through breakfast, ignoring the chatter of other guests at her table. She thought about him as she tried to concentrate on the stained-glass activity she’d signed up for and now regretted. Of all the activities listed, Noreen had hoped this one would have been enjoyable. Unfortunately, she was the only person there older than nine and younger than seventy-five. And the instructor, in order to accommodate the chatty kids (there were six of them) and the twenty or so seniors, some who had difficulty hearing, used an unnaturally high, loud, patronizing tone to explain every step.

  “Now, don’t forget to put enough color on your brush. And wash all the color out of your brush, before you use another color—or oopsy-daisy, you’ll be sorry…”

  Noreen was already sorry, but fortunately she was pleased with her finished product. By the afternoon she was ready for lunch, but she knew she would continue to think about Michael until she did something about it. She found a wall phone nearby and called down to the sick bay and learned that he’d checked himself out early that morning and had returned to his cabin.

  After speaking to the nurse, Noreen hung up the phone and stared at it. At least that meant he was okay. But she still wanted to know if he was healing. She wanted to see him. She didn’t analyze why. She got the number for his cabin and dialed.

  “Hello?” a deep, groggy voice answered.

  He sounded exhausted. Hadn’t he slept last night and why hadn’t he stayed in the sick bay a couple more days? Noreen gripped the phone. She wasn’t going to worry. She probably shouldn’t have woken him.

  “Hello?” he asked again.

  She shouldn’t have called. She didn’t even know what to say to him. “I’m sorry,” she said, full of apology. “I think I have the wrong number.”

  “Is that you, Angel?”

  “It—it’s Arlene,” she said, a little disappointed that he’d been expecting someone else.