“Stop pacing like a scrawny, caged cat.”
“Who’s scrawny?” Gina muttered.
Tobias sat down at his desk and glared at her. “You know damned well what I mean. You’re not eating enough. You’re not sleeping enough. Scrawny,” the big security officer repeated flatly. “Bad-tempered and wound up tight.”
Gina started to rub her forehead, then caught herself. Tobias missed nothing. She couldn’t give any sign of the headache that was digging in behind her eyes. “You have a cigarette?”
“Why? You gave them up four years ago.”
“Right. Then how about some of those lemon drops you think you’ve kept hidden in the top left drawer of your desk?”
Tobias flipped open a drawer and tossed her a bag of candy. “Don’t change the subject. I know what’s going on.”
What was he talking about? Had she forgotten to return those last two videos of 24 from the ship’s video library? Did she owe money for uniform laundry?
No to both. But something had Tobias riled up big-time.
She savored the bite of a sour lemon ball, frowning. “Gee, Tobias, I don’t know what—”
“Of course you do. You were pale and shaky out at that damned pastry class you refused to say no to. You were dizzy by the end.”
“Oh, that.” She should have known Tobias would get reports on staff activities ashore. The man was spooky in his ability to gather information. She shrugged. “Didn’t sleep very well last night. Must be too much partying.”
“Partying, my ass. You don’t party. You don’t take time off. You work twenty hours out of every twenty-four and your staff is worried about you.”
Gina stopped pacing. “They told you that?”
“I had two worried calls today. Everyone says you looked pale yesterday.”
“Things were hectic.”
The security chief snorted. “Try again.”
So much for fooling her staff. “Look, I—I’m fine, Tobias. I was tired and too rushed to eat. Everything piled up.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re still pale. Something else is going on.” The head of security steepled his fingers and stared at her. “Level with me, or I’ll get really nasty.”
Gina cast about desperately for another excuse. “A truck ladder broke and almost hit us. Things were looking nasty.”
“I know all about the lieutenant with the medals who saved the day.”
“Is there anything you miss?”
“Not if I can help it. So did you get the man’s name?”
“No. Should I have? We weren’t contemplating marriage,” she said dryly.
“I’m just curious. And I’ll take the rest of those lemon sours, if you’re done shredding the bag.”
Gina took a breath and handed the bag back to Tobias. “Do you have boxes of these stashed somewhere? They’re imported from France, so you can’t just pick them up at the local Wal-Mart.”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” His lips curved faintly. “So they say.”
“When are you going to tell me the truth, Tobias? Were you Delta Force or a Green Beret?”
The security chief moved his fingers over the single photo on his desk. It was a shot of a woman at a distance, her face blurred by the sunlight pouring over the mountain at her back. The thick trees could have been in Mississippi or Connecticut or Guatemala. Gina had often wanted to ask about the woman, but Tobias wasn’t the sort of man you crowded with personal questions.
“What I was doesn’t matter. It’s over. That me is dead.” He sat up stiffly as if the words had surprised him. “Stop changing the subject.”
“Fine. I’ll eat. I’ll sleep. I’ll be more careful in the future.” And I’ll learn to lie a whole lot better, too.
Keen eyes swept her face. “Pressure is part of the job. You’ve dealt with it before without any problem. Something’s different now.”
No kidding.
Now my eyes ache and I keep failing my peripheral vision tests. Occasionally colors blur and lines of print wobble. “Nothing important, I promise you.”
The dramatically handsome security officer leaned back in his chair. He straightened a pen and pencil near his phone, then looked up. “That’s bullshit and we both know it.”
No fooling Tobias, Gina thought glumly. But she said nothing. If he reported her as unable to work, she’d have to appear for a medical evaluation, and any serious exam would reveal anomalies in her last set of vision tests. It would only be a matter of time before her condition went on record for personnel and everyone else to see.
No way. This chef was going to die in the saddle. What else could she do but cook? Once upon a time she’d had a different job back in Seattle. She’d been damned good at the job, too.
Ancient history.
Gina knew she’d go crazy if she had to stare at her hands and do nothing while she waited for the color loss and double vision that signaled final optic nerve deterioration.
So she had to lie through her teeth and convince Tobias she was in perfect shape to work. Not that it was a lie; the day she couldn’t do her job was the day she’d turn in her resignation.
Of course it was never a good idea to have a blind person working near an open fire.
Tobias leaned back in his chair. “Stop that.”
“What?”
“Trying to cook up a lie. It won’t work. You know, I thought we were friends. Friends don’t lie to friends.”
Yeah, they were friends. They’d shared some bad jokes during awful storms at sea. They had worked together for five years on more cruises than Gina could count, and they spent Thursday nights playing poker in a secret, rotating location with only select crew in attendance. She counted Tobias as a true friend.
But some things you didn’t share.
After her dad’s death, Gina’s mother had flaked out completely. Unable to function, she’d lived on medications that left her half asleep most of the day. She hadn’t accepted what was going on around her. Instead, she’d built a wall of denial and vanished behind it.
That wasn’t happening to Gina.
Tobias had a right to expect the truth from her, but friendship had its limits. How did you tell a friend that you were going blind? That the meds were working, but only to a point and one morning you’d wake up to see shadows and squiggles. About that time Gina’s color vision would become unreliable. Outlines would blur and the headaches would ratchet up.
She closed her eyes. Dear God, she needed more time. How could she break the news to someone else when she still hadn’t come to grips with it?
“No more evasions.” His voice was rough with concern. “Damn it, Gina, I want to help but I don’t know how.”
It was his baffled anger that finally cut through her defenses. Pity or concern she would have dismissed easily, but anger was something she understood too well. Anger had become her closest companion in the past few months. Little things, nothing things, left her shaken and furious.
Meanwhile, Tobias wouldn’t let go until he had answers.
“It’s personal, Tobias. I have to deal with this myself.”
His eyes narrowed. “Personal how? Blaine trouble?”
Blaine. He thought that was her big problem. If only he were right.
Gina cleared her throat. “I’d rather not discuss it.”
He didn’t move, didn’t speak.
She didn’t try to make up a story. The man would spot it in a second. “If things get desperate, I’ll come to you—I promise.” That was true. Tobias was the only one she could trust. Her staff was too emotional. They would worry and intervene and hover. They’d want medical details and the name of her doctor. They’d need to try to change what couldn’t be changed.
Only Tobias would be cool and practical. Gina needed that if she was going to face the truth, not live on wishes and impossible hopes for a cure.
Her throat was raw. She locked her hands, trying to stay calm.
“Here.” He held out a
white handkerchief. “Your cheek is bleeding again.”
She took the soft cloth, feeling her cheek burn as the soft cotton pressed against her skin. “If things change, you’ll be the first to know. Isn’t that enough?”
“I guess it will have to be. I know you keep your promises. But we can’t avoid this conversation forever.”
Gina took a long, rasping breath, feeling lost and afraid of the future. It was past time she faced that future.
All at once, she blurted out the words that couldn’t be trapped inside any longer. They fought her, demanding to be heard, demanding an honesty that felt like sandpaper on an open wound.
“I’m…going blind, Tobias. That’s pretty much it, soup to nuts. It’s a nerve degeneration problem and I’ve got meds to slow it down, but there’s no cavalry over the hill and no cure in sight.” She sat stiffly. “I didn’t want to tell you. Now if you don’t mind—I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Head between your knees.” Gentle hands pushed her forward, rubbed her neck while she gulped in air and tears seared her eyelids.
He didn’t speak. When her shaking had stopped, he sat forward. “What’s the specific diagnosis?”
Gina said the long, barely pronounceable Greek name. She’d avoided the word for so long that it was a relief to say it out loud.
“Which means?”
“Optic nerve damage of unknown origins. My doctor in Palo Alto says it will probably be months. Maybe I’ll get two good years before…” Her fingers twisted, locked. “I need to work until then, Tobias. If I lose that, I’ve lost everything. Working is what I know best. I’ve got no family to speak of, and my friends are all here. This will never impact the ship or my staff, I promise.”
He didn’t speak. He crossed his arms at his chest and stared out the window. Two seagulls dove into churning waves, then reappeared carrying small fish that wiggled vainly.
Gina knew exactly how those small fish felt.
“So you want me to keep your secret, even if it means breaking a dozen company regulations?”
“What are rules if you don’t break them once in a while?” She squared her shoulders. She wouldn’t grovel. She’d quit first.
Tobias studied the neat piles of paperwork on his desk. “I never break the rules.” He leaned toward the picture, then stopped abruptly. “Only once. That was enough.” He swiveled in his chair, his face a mask. “Here’s the way it will go. This stays between us for now. You report to me every week and I see your medical files. If your symptoms change, you tell me immediately. Understood?”
It was better than she could have hoped. Worse, too, since she hated the thought of giving up her privacy, even to this friend.
Too bad her choices were a little limited at the moment.
“I accept. Thank you, Tobias.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said tightly. “It’s my job to push.” He made a dismissive sound, then looked out the window. After a long time he picked up a set of keys from his desk. “Take care of yourself. And stay away from Blaine. She’s gunning for you bad now.”
“I got that message, believe me.”
“So watch your back. And get Andreas to take over the heavy lifting. He’s good, so let him do more.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
Tobias frowned. “I mean it. Start delegating or I’ll report you.” His eyes were steely. “Don’t mess with me, Ryan.”
“I won’t.” This time her voice was soft, hesitant. “Delegate.” She snapped a small salute. “Even if it kills me.”
“It’s a hard thing to learn, but your people have to advance sometime.” He stood up, shaking his head. “I thought it was money problems, or Blaine. Maybe something with an old boyfriend. Nothing like this.”
Gina gripped his arm for a moment. She didn’t cry this time. The tears were gone. Saying the words had driven them away.
She stood up, smoothed her hair. “Hell, isn’t it? So what happens now?”
“Work. The usual grind. And we live for Thursday nights.” He smiled slightly. “You got all that stuff we ordered in San Francisco?”
“Safe and sound in my cabin. Andreas brought the second box himself. Brown paper wrappers, just the way you asked.”
“One more thing.” His forehead furrowed. “A friend of yours contacted corporate to set up some time with you. The cruise brass okayed it.” Tobias glanced at his computer screen. “Carly McKay, wife of Ford McKay. Three children traveling with them.”
“Carly’s here? But she isn’t supposed to be taking the cruise until next month.”
“They boarded three hours ago. Her husband looks like an interesting guy.” Tobias scrolled through the passenger information, his eyes intent. “Navy, I see.” He kept on scrolling. “A man who’s been a lot of places.”
“Something wrong with that?”
“Not that I can tell. Your friend has your ship e-mail address and she wanted to get together later today if you have time.”
Gina hid a grimace. The first few days at sea were always hectic. Tonight would be worse than usual due to the malfunctioning refrigeration unit. But she and Carly had been college roommates. It had been far too long since they’d been able to meet. How could she refuse?
“Okay, I’ll e-mail her back. I’ll check with the captain about—”
Tobias waved one hand. “Already done. Strings have been pulled. As long as your work is complete, you can see your friend whenever you like.”
“I appreciate it, Tobias.”
“Thank corporate. All I did was field the calls.” He cleared his computer screen and stood up abruptly.
“Tobias? Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The tall man let out a slow breath. “Turns out that McKay and I have…friends in common. Not that it matters.” He pulled a set of keys from his top desk drawer. “The doctor tells me a nasty strain of flu has hit coastal Mexico. He wants everyone down for flu shots in the next twenty-four.”
Blaine. Medical files to Tobias. Flu.
What else could go wrong?
“I’ll get my staff lined up. Nothing for me, though.” Gina worked at a knot in her neck. “I’m under strict orders not to combine anything with my experimental meds.” She laughed dryly. “But the good news is, I won’t be losing my sight because of any flu.”
Tobias stared at her, his gaze cold and angry. “That isn’t funny, damn it.”
“I guess not.” Gina let out a slow breath. “Sorry. My humor’s been a little…warped lately. I’ll try to keep it to myself.”
“If it bothers me, I’ll let you know.” He glanced at his watch and held open the door to the outer office. “Remember Blaine’s out there somewhere, and she’s one very hungry shark.”
“Warning noted.”
As she walked back across the hall toward the kitchen, Gina ran through the night’s pastry platings and calculated her staff assignments. Suddenly she felt a sharp prickling at her shoulders.
She stopped across the hall from Tobias’s office, looking in both directions. One of the purser’s staff walked by with a paperback and a bottle of water. One of Tobias’s security team moved down the hall, his walkie-talkie squawking.
No one else was in sight.
Stress. Lack of sleep. She had enough problems without conjuring any new ones from her imagination.
Gina leaned against the wall and rubbed her eyes gently, using the exercises the doctor in Palo Alto had shown her. Though they wouldn’t reverse her problem, they reduced some of her pain.
But even after she walked into the pastry kitchen, the probing sensation between her shoulders remained.
TOBIAS HALE CLOSED his door and stared at the paperwork forgotten on his desk. He was reeling with the news Gina had just given him.
Blind.
And he thought his problems were bad.
Rules or not, he’d find a way to protect her as long as he could. He only hoped it was the right thing to do.
How did you ev
er know until years later?
Meanwhile there was Ryker to consider. Damn Ryker for hanging on to him when he had worked so hard, paid so dearly to sever all ties and put the past where it belonged. But old debts never got repaid, and the past didn’t stay forgotten for long.
He’d done what he thought was best all those years ago.
Now he owed Ryker. One favor to make his family safe forever. That one favor became ten and then twenty.
Tobias studied the two photos on his desk. His callused fingers traced the worn wooden frames the way he had daily for seventeen years.
It had all seemed best at the time.
It had seemed the safest for those who counted most.
But people had a way of growing up and making their own choices, even if they didn’t understand the truth. Tobias had no doubt that Ryker had manipulated everyone to suit his own purposes. No one did manipulation like Lloyd Ryker.
Now Tobias was trapped. It was too late to go back, too late for explanations or amends.
Too late for everything that mattered.
He stared at the photos on his desk for a very long time. Then his head fell, braced on his hands in the empty room that was the only home he had allowed himself since he’d left the government.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TRACE WASN’T SURE what a cruise ship security office was supposed to look like. He didn’t have a clue what to expect of his contact on board, either.
The man was probably overweight, fiftyish and an ex-Marine with delusions of operational grandeur. Probably read Soldier of Fortune religiously.
A balding, middle-aged man in a brown uniform walked out of the Security office.
Figured.
Trace frowned at him. “Are you the security chief?”
“No, I’m Riley from engineering. You want Tobias. He’s inside his office. And you’d better have a good reason for bothering him, because the man’s in one cranky-ass mood today.”
The engineer vanished around the corner, shaking his head, a clipboard under one arm.
Inside the office a tall black man with broad shoulders walked toward a coffee machine, cup in hand. He was neither overweight nor fiftyish, but he did have the tight stance of an ex-Marine.
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