“Cool, are these new?”

Michaela turned to see Felicity holding up one of the illuminated cocktail glasses sent over for this trip. “Yes, they light up when you push here. Neat, hey?”

“Guess it makes the cleaner’s job of finding empty glasses a lot easier.”

Michaela smiled. She hadn’t thought of that, but it was a good point.

“Until the batteries run out,” Felicity added as she turned the glass over.

“Oh, no, they’ve got a tiny solar chip.”

“Really? Jeez, how much did they cost?” Felicity’s eyes were wide.

“I don’t know. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Nothing to do with me, that’s a head office expense.” The two women looked at each other. “Head office” was a ubiquitous concept, usually blamed for anything unexplainable. If passengers complained that their room wasn’t quite what they had ordered and there were no other rooms available, the standard “I’ll check with head office” was always a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Michaela sometimes felt sorry for the faceless people toiling away in a high rise somewhere in Sydney who were tasked with making sure the scores of Adventurer Cruise ships were organized and well stocked with passengers. Landing a job at head office had been at the top of her wish list when she’d started out with Adventurer Cruises. The captain had laughed at her when she told him, saying she’d need to put in at least two years as cruise director before they’d even consider her, and after the fiasco of their relationship she’d put the idea aside.

It’s a powerful job, though. Maybe I could put it back on the list just to show him.

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“Head office would definitely be a good career challenge,” she said.

“What?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“You can’t leave me.” Felicity pouted.

“Oh, I’m not, don’t worry. Just dreaming.”

She’d been doing too much dreaming lately. Too much by half. If she really was going to get off this ship in the next couple of months, she needed an impeccable performance record. Anything less and the captain would have an excuse not to give her the reference she’d need.

“At least they did an excellent job with their recruitment this time,” Felicity said, pulling Michaela out of her thoughts. “My chocolate man is doing a fine job, and your dancer seems to have the passengers eating out of his hand.” Felicity pointed to Dylan, who was accompanying a large group of women—a hen party, Michaela thought with a pang of…jealousy?

The women were fussing over his uniform, sneaking little touches of the simple gold strand that decorated his lapels and giggling. Unlike in her imagination, Dylan didn’t look harried at all. He took the hand of one woman—the bride-to-be, undoubtedly—and raised it to his lips in mock subservience. Then he winked at the group and made his excuses before leaving.

The feeling of those hands on her waist washed over Michaela, and the thought of those lips covering hers sent a shiver of something hot and hurried through her whole body.

For a moment, Michaela was back in Dylan’s arms. They were on the stage, picked out in a spotlight as he whirled her around. There was no awkwardness between them—Michaela could feel the rhythm of the music rather than having to listen to the beat, and the two of them were in perfect harmony. As the last note of the song hushed away, Dylan pulled her closer, and again his lips hovered over hers…

“Oh.” Michaela let out a small whimper.

“What’s that?”

Felicity was still standing next to her, and Michaela shuddered at the thought of what else she might have said if she’d let her daydream continue any further. That kiss had affected her far more than she wanted to admit. “Nothing,” she said to Felicity.

Yes, nothing. Nothing was going to happen. He wasn’t really a good listener. It had all been an act. “I was just thinking tonight’s party is going to be perfect.”

“Of course it is, darling, you’re in charge.” Felicity gave her a bright grin. “I’m off to check on my team. They’re probably inundated already with questions about the gratuity system. And anyway, I must check that Mr. Chocolate is coping with all these new pressures. He might need a more experienced hand for support.” Felicity gave her a wicked wink and swanned away toward the pursers’ station below decks.

Shaking her head to rid it of the last lingering traces of her Dylan memory, Michaela satisfied herself that everything was in order and went back to her office to finalize tomorrow’s roster, double-checking that her staffing requirements matched the activities listed in the paper for passengers. “Perfect,” she said.

And very full. Dylan wouldn’t have a moment to fall for anyone, passenger or staff, because he would be too busy leading activities all over the ship.

She smiled. That would keep him out of her hair.

“Did you see him in that first number? Oh my God,” the female passenger said, her eyes opening wide.

“What a god, you mean. So powerful!”

Michaela sighed as she overheard the gushing praise of passengers coming out of the second cabaret show. She didn’t need to ask who they were talking about.

“If he hadn’t moved, I would have sworn he was marble.”

“Oh yeah, but I bet he wouldn’t feel cool and stony when you had him under your hands!” The women cackled and continued on upstairs.

Stop it.

She almost said it out loud, and the frustration must have shown on her face, because the next group of passengers took one look at her and gave her a wide berth. At least this was only the first night, so no one really knew who she was yet. She scuttled away before anyone realized. It wouldn’t do for the cruise director to be seen as a sour mouth.

Up on deck, the lights were on, and the background music was playing. By the look of the people already on the dance floor, this was going to be a very lively crowd.

“Not a bad start,” a deep male voice said from behind her. “Passengers seemed to like the show, and I hardly broke a sweat. I must be fitter than I thought.”

Michaela looked around and found the green eyes of the favorite dancer of every woman on board.

When he said things like that, he sounded like such an arrogant ass. But the humor in his eyes softened the statement, and she couldn’t take the posturing seriously. Not after that first night on the deck. No man who was all ego would have been such a good listener.




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