Also by Barbara Longley
Love from the Heartland series, set in Perfect, Indiana
Far from Perfect
The Difference a Day Makes
A Change of Heart
The Twisted Road to You
The Novels of Loch Moigh
True to the Highlander
The Highlander’s Bargain
The Highlander’s Folly
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 Barbara Longley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
e-ISBN: 9781503996458
Cover design by Laura Klynstra
To seafarers everywhere: May the ocean current lead you to exciting adventures beyond your imagining!
Contents
Dear Reader
1. Salted Caramel Lattes and Large Ships at Sea…
2. Ancient Mayan Ruins and Iguanas…
3. Black Howler Monkeys, Fire Ants and Cashew Wine…
4. Coral Reefs, White Sand Beaches, Starlit Nights and Romance at Sea…
5. Once Upon a Night at Sea…
Sneak Peek: The Twisted Road to You
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Dear Reader,
Plotting a story, creating the characters and imagining the setting are a huge part of the storytelling process. For Once Upon a Night at Sea, I had the unique opportunity to carry Marin and Jason with me as I saw the sights they would see, listened to the sounds they would hear and savored the foods they would taste. You might be interested to know that I took them with me to formal night. I also brought them along on my walks around the promenade deck. Marin and Jason lounged by the pool beside me and spent a luxurious few hours in the spa while I had a massage. What an excellent way to write a story. I hope my characters will come alive for you, and that you too will experience a few pleasurable hours enjoying the luxurious and exotic surroundings that I was so fortunate to have experienced during that most excellent week at sea.
Barbara
1. Salted Caramel Lattes and Large Ships at Sea…
Built in Italy (by Greeks) in 2007, Emerald Princess is 952 feet long, weighs 113,000 tons and holds 3,080 guests. So, it’s not the motion of the ocean after all. Size matters.
Marin’s phone chirped insistently from the depths of her purse. Sliding a handful of bills across the counter toward the barista, she moved to the pickup end of the counter and pulled the blasted thing from her bag. The screen displayed “Unknown Caller.” She was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but it might be one of the new suppliers for her home decor and design center. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Marintha Allen?”
“Yes, this is Marin.” The attendant behind the counter called out her beverage, and Marin reached for her salted caramel latte.
“Congratulations, Marin! This is Aidan Moline from SLS, and you are one of the lucky winners in our romantic getaway raffle. We drew the names the day after the Valentine’s mixer.” Aidan sounded very pleased about the whole thing.
She frowned. “Oh?” Anne, Marin’s best friend, had bullied her into attending that party, just like she’d guilted Marin into joining the expensive social club, Singles Living Social. Marin didn’t remember buying any raffle tickets the night of the mixer. Had she? Not likely. Taking time off from her fledgling business was not feasible right now. “Are you sure, because—”
Aidan rattled off her name, number and e-mail address. “Is this you?”
“It is.” And Anne would soon be on the receiving end of a what-the-heck phone call.
“In that case, we’re taking you on an all-expenses-paid cruise to the western Caribbean six weeks from today—along with three lucky bachelors, two more bachelorettes, myself and another SLS associate. The folks at SLS have lots of fun activities planned for the entire sun-filled week.”
“Great.” Though a cruise somewhere warm, sunny and exotic was tempting, she dreaded organized activities, mixers and especially icebreakers. She shuddered at the thought of some stupid game designed to force her into approaching people she didn’t know.
“I’ll send an e-mail to let you know what we need from you, and a couple of weeks before we leave, we’re planning a get-together to go over the details. You know, a little—”
Don’t say it, don’t say—
“—icebreaker for the six of you.”
Marintha scratched her itchy neck. Hives? She was already formulating a list of possible excuses to miss the pre-cruise get-together. Besides, she hadn’t decided whether or not she could go. On the rare occasion she did take a vacation, she preferred setting off to explore on her own or with a trusted friend or two. No one could accuse her of being an extrovert. In fact, in the three months she’d been a member of the SLS, she’d only attended a handful of events, including the Valentine’s Day party.
Still, it had been a brutally cold, dark winter, even by Minnesotan standards, and she had been working very hard all year. Could she afford to take a break? Her interior design studio had only been open for six months, and she’d just hired an assistant manager a couple of weeks ago. Jody wasn’t ready to be left alone yet.
“We’ll be spending seven glorious days at sea and stopping at three fascinating ports of call on Emerald Princess, one of Princess Cruises’ premier ships,” Aidan said, his enthusiasm spilling into her ear. “Visit their website and take a look at the many amenities they have to offer.”
“I’ll do that.” She’d never been on a cruise before. Did she even have anything appropriate to wear? Marin walked out of the coffeehouse and into the frigid February murkiness. Sun. Palm trees. The ocean. A cruise would be nice. “I’ll keep an eye out for the e-mail.”
“Great. See you in a few weeks.”
Maybe. At least she had some time to think about it, and she would get on the Internet during her lunch break to see what she could find out about Princess Cruises® and Emerald Princess. Marin dropped her phone into her purse and headed for her car. Halfway there, she hit a patch of ice, and her feet flew out from under her.
“Ahh!” Marin flailed, tossing her latte up into the air. She latched on to the back end of the pickup truck beside her. Somehow, she managed to keep from falling. Sort of. “Whew.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing her racing pulse to slow down.
“Thanks,” a disgruntled masculine voice grumbled. “Not exactly what I had in mind when I stopped for coffee.”
Oh no. She peeked at the man and pushed herself to standing. He was covered in her coffee. Why couldn’t she have splashed her drink all over the hood of someone’s car, or held on to the stupid cup? Nope. That’s not how things worked, not for her, anyway. To make matters worse, the man dripping salted caramel latte happened to be extraordinarily good looking, not to mention well dressed. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Sexy brown eyes met hers. “Not your fault,” he conceded, shaking droplets of coffee off the bottom of his black leather jacket. More of her beverage of choice had found its way into his thick, wavy dark hair, and the front of his gray gabardine slacks now sported brownish spatters—all the way down to his knees.
“Great move, by the way, tossing your cup into
the air like that.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “Are you OK?”
Nodding, she stared. Gulp. Her heart fluttered like a fangirl’s catching sight of her favorite star. My oh my. Why did men always get the long, thick eyelashes? If guys like this one belonged to her social club, she’d gladly overcome her social anxiety and become a regular. “I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.” She moved to less slippery asphalt. “It’s the least I can do.”
“If anyone should pay my dry cleaning bill, it’s the coffee shop. They are responsible for the condition of the parking lot, after all.”
“Maybe, but they aren’t responsible for the way I tossed my coffee.” Purely a Marin move. Childhood taunts echoed through her head. Marin the Menace, her brothers had called her, or Spill Meister. She’d dash to her car right now if she didn’t fear slipping again, and this time landing on her squashed pride. She pointed to the white crystals sprinkled over the lot. “Besides, someone did put down salt. They just missed a spot or two.”
He shook off a few more drops of coffee. “And now you’re without your morning caffeine, and I’m drenched. At least let’s go inside and demand a replacement”—he sniffed at his jacket—“caramel latte.”
Great. Mr. Latte-Drenched-Hot-Hunk was the confrontational sort. Too bad. Confrontation, along with icebreakers, gave her hives. “Um…”
“Let’s go see justice done, shall we?” He gestured toward the coffee shop.
Yep. Probably a lawyer. Not her type at all. Torn between her addiction of choice and her wish to avoid making a scene, she took a step back. “It’s not their fault I have a tendency to toss things in the air when I’m startled. Anyway, it’s unlikely the coffee shop owns this lot any more than the other stores in this strip mall do. I doubt they’re responsible for the maintenance, and I’m not holding them responsible for replacing my coffee.”
Not to mention she had no desire to draw even more attention to her slip-and-toss maneuver. Her cheeks burning, Marin fished through her coat pockets for one of her cards. “Here,” she said, thrusting the business card his way. “Send me the bill for the dry cleaning.” With that, she turned on her high-heeled boots and trod carefully toward her car, sans her morning latte. She eyed the long line of cars queuing up to the drive-through window.
Glancing over her shoulder, she found her latest victim watching her retreat. Another flutter, this one in her midriff, brought a twinge of regret. Really, she had no time for dating, and after her last disappointing heartbreak, she’d decided to focus solely on her new business for a while, at least until Allen Decor & Design showed a nice fat profit. When that happy day arrived, she’d hire more help and think about dating again. Not now.
Marin climbed into her car and retrieved her phone. Hitting speed dial, she kept her eye on the rearview mirror, hoping to catch another glimpse of the hot guy. “Anne.”
“Marin.”
They’d used the same conversational shorthand since high school, with tone alone conveying the seriousness of the conversation to come. “I’ve had a very interesting morning.”
“Oh?” Anne’s voice held avid interest. “Tell me.”
“It seems I’ve won a Caribbean cruise through SLS’s Valentine’s Day raffle.”
“That’s so exciting!”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing… I never bought any tickets.” Silence. She waited, glancing again at the line of cars at the drive-through window in the hopes it might have shortened. It hadn’t. “Anne,” she repeated.
“Mea culpa. I bought one ticket for you and three for me.”
“Why did you buy me a ticket?”
“Guilt. I know you don’t like parties, but you came anyway… for me. Just like you joined the club so I’d have someone to attend events with. Wow, you won!”
Marin held the phone away from her ear, waiting for Anne’s volume to return to normal.
“I’m so excited for you… and jealous for me. I was hoping we’d both win.”
“I don’t know if—”
“You’re going.”
“This will be my store’s first spring. I have merchandise to process and clients who—”
“You’re taking this trip, Marintha. All you do these days is work. It’s not healthy.”
“Hmm. We’ll talk about it later. I’m not through with you yet. On another note, you’ll never guess what else happened this morning.”
“Tell me,” Anne said. “I live for your foibles.”
“I slipped on a patch of ice in the parking lot at a coffee shop and tossed my latte all over a gorgeous guy.”
“No!” Anne laughed.
“Yes.” Marin described the dreamy man in detail.
“Was he wearing a wedding ring? Did you get his number?”
“No and no, but I gave him my card and told him I’d pay for the dry cleaning. He’s not my type.”
“Marin…”
“He isn’t. He wanted to go back inside and give the poor baristas a hard time about the condition of the parking lot, like it’s their fault Minnesota has ice. Besides, no more lectures about my social life. After working in my mom’s shadow for years, I’ve finally opened my own design studio, and that’s what I want to concentrate on right now.” Marin started her car. “Hey, you want to go see a movie tonight?”
“Sure. I’ll call you later.”
“OK. Later.” With her phone safely stowed in her purse, she pulled her car out of her parking spot and headed for her store, already dreading the awful coffee her minions brewed in the tiny closet they used for breaks.
#
“Too bad,” Jason muttered. He hadn’t meant to scare the pretty blonde away. He’d only been teasing when he’d suggested they hold the coffee shop responsible, but she hadn’t stuck around long enough to let him explain. He’d just wanted to get her back inside, so he could buy her a replacement latte and have a good laugh over what had happened. After all, he was in the mood to celebrate, and he wasn’t going to let a hot, sticky dousing dampen his spirits.
He kept an eye on her as she made her way to her car in case she slipped again. Why did women insist upon wearing high heels in this weather? Once he saw she was safely inside her car, he walked into the coffee shop, grabbed a fistful of napkins and wiped what he could of the fast-drying liquid off his jacket.
The kid behind the counter eyed the state of his clothing with mild curiosity. “Spilled it, eh?”
“Something like that.” Jason ordered his usual and studied the card the woman had given him. Marintha Allen, Allen Decor & Design. The card included an address, a phone number, website and e-mail.
Tucking the card into his wallet, he considered his options. He could stop by her store, invite her out for coffee, and go from there, or he could have his things cleaned and move on. Either way, she would not be receiving a bill.
His breath had hitched the moment her gaze had met his, and that hadn’t happened to him in a good long while. Her lively blue eyes had shone with intelligence… and concern at his soggy state. Smiling, he recalled the way she’d tossed the coffee in the air when she slipped. He’d been so busy watching her, trying to get to her before she hit the ground, he forgot to move out of the way of the flying latte. Already late for a meeting, he had no time to return to his condo for a change of clothes. He grabbed his coffee, headed out the door and climbed into his pickup truck. Once again the image of Marintha Allen tossing her latte danced through his head. He chuckled. What a way to start his morning.
#
Jason’s fingers hovered over the keyboard of his computer. He stared blindly at Doherty Manufacturing’s quarterly profit and loss report on the screen. He’d been completely distracted all day. Why couldn’t he get Marintha Allen out of his head? Maybe it was because the sweet scent of her latte on his slacks and jacket had haunted him all day. “I give up.”
On impulse, he opened a new tab on his computer screen and entered the web address for her shop. A page popped up, displaying an array of knickknacks, throws,
pillows, one-of-a-kind pieces of painted furniture and a portfolio of rooms, some cozy, others ultramodern and sleek. His condo could use a few things to brighten it up, make it more homey.
Scrolling down the page, he searched for the store’s hours and grinned. On Fridays Allen Decor closed early. He’d stop by and hopefully catch Marintha before she left. He’d ask her out for that coffee, or at the very least he’d tell her not to expect a bill. He might have read her all wrong, but he swore he’d glimpsed a spark of attraction before he suggested the coffee shop owed them.
It was worth a shot, and if he left now, he’d have time to change his clothes. Jason shut down his computer, grabbed his things and strode out of his office. “I’m heading out, John,” he told his assistant. “I have a few errands to run. Feel free to knock off early if you want, and have a great weekend. Inform the rest of the staff they can start the weekend early, too.”
“Thanks, Mr. Doherty. I will.”
Jason nodded good-bye to the rest of his support staff and made his way to the elevator. The moment he hit the down button, the doors opened. He took it as a good sign. Still smiling, he left the building, climbed into his pickup and aimed for home. His condo was only ten minutes away, even less today, since every traffic light turned green as he approached. Another good sign.
Once he’d rinsed the stickiness out of his hair and changed into jeans and a sweater, he grabbed a clean jacket out of his closet and set out for Allen Decor & Design, located in a nearby shopping and office complex. Jason pulled his truck into the parking lot with a few minutes to spare.
A case of nerves hit him. What if she didn’t want to have anything to do with him? Was it stalkerish to show up at her store? No. He wanted to do the right thing and let her off the hook for the dry cleaning bill. Not her fault she’d slipped.
Drawing a breath for courage, he climbed out of his truck and walked inside the first floor of the complex. There he consulted the directory and then headed for Allen Decor. He turned a corner, and there she was. Frowning, he watched her tug furiously at… something. The shop’s double glass doors were already closed. He moved closer to get a better look.
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