Even if she waited for him to sort out his company, there were no guarantees he’d want her. Rejected, her heart would collapse in on itself, irrevocably broken, and he’d carry on with his life without a second glance.

Stop it, Michaela Western.

But it was too late. She couldn’t help herself. She was hooked, just like the fish out in the bay below them.

The day ended without any drama, and in the company of passengers Michaela and Dylan kept their distance.

Back on board, Dylan’s cell buzzed. He scanned the message quickly. “Damn it.”

“More trouble with Brian?” Michaela asked.

He nodded. “I’m sorry, but when we get into Auckland, I’m going to have to go and sort this out.”

“Of course. I’ll go to a spa or something. Don’t worry.” Michaela forced out a bright smile.

It was already happening. There was still almost a month left of his three months, but already Dylan Johns was leaving her.

As the passengers disembarked in Auckland, Michaela wondered what she would do for the next three days. It would be nice to spend a little bit of time on land, though. She’d been feeling a bit seasick of late, the first time in years. It happened as you got older, she’d heard. You started to be more susceptible to the ebb and flow of the ocean against the ship.

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“I’ll see you in three days,” Dylan said as he walked down the ramp to shore. “And I’ll ring you.” He held up the cell he’d made Michaela program her number into.

Despite her disappointment at being without Dylan, she found that she did enjoy herself. A number of harborside bars provided a fine array of food and drink, and the days whizzed past. The spa she booked into was wonderful. Freshly pummeled, oiled, and smelling divine, Michaela sighed into her hotel bed at night. The days ashore had been a perfect rest and just what she needed. Her nausea seemed to have lessened a lot.

On the third and final day of her shore leave while she was having breakfast on her hotel balcony, Michaela’s phone buzzed. Answering it, she heard a woman’s Australian twang on the other end of the line.

“Is that Michaela Western?”

“It is.”

“Hi there. It’s Helen Grady here, from head office. Glad I finally tracked you down. We’ve been sending you e-mails the last couple of days.”

“Sorry, I’ve been on shore leave. We’re not due to leave until later tonight. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine. But I have a rather interesting proposition for you.”

Michaela waited, expecting a new comedian or perhaps a famous writer. They sometimes came onboard to give lectures and teach workshops.

“One of the girls here is leaving, and we’d like to offer you the position.”

Michaela started. A job in head office?

“There wouldn’t be the same sort of travel as you’re used to, although you would get to travel a little bit to view and book new acts. But you’d be making a significant amount more money. It would be based in our Sydney office.”

“Sydney?”

“Yeah, it’s great over here. You’ve been, haven’t you?” Helen asked.

“A few years ago now.” It had been wonderful. The long stretch of Bondi Beach so close to the hustle of the city center, the multinational markets with amazing food and incredible flavors. Sydney.

Sydney! Dylan said he’d been most recently based in Sydney. Maybe his family firm had business there. They might be able to have a long-distance thing, weekends or something that didn’t get in the way of work. “It’s an awfully tempting offer,” Michaela said.

“I know it’s a little out of the blue, and it’s entirely irregular for me to be offering a position like this, but it’s just the timing. We really need someone right now, and everyone knows what an amazing job you do onboard.”

Taking a head office job would certainly be a change. A change and a step up. It would fit into her five-year plan. And being with Dylan the past few weeks had shown her life was for living—every moment. Before she could talk herself out of it, Michaela crossed her fingers for luck and blurted out, “Yes. Yes, please.”

“Wow. Great. I didn’t think you’d decide so quickly. Works for me, though. I’ll e-mail you more details, and we can start getting things rolling.”

“Sounds good,” Michaela said, thinking about how she’d break the news to Dylan.

The streets of Auckland seemed drab compared to the bright colors of the Pacific that Dylan had grown used to. As various gray buildings merged into each other through the taxi window, Dylan felt their solidity settle over his heart, making it heavy. He felt old suddenly. If only Michaela were with him…

No. Drawing her into this chaos wouldn’t be fair.

Almost in a daze, he paid the cab driver, climbed the steps of the building, and moved through doors and down hallways until he was at his mother’s bedside.

The future he’d seen onboard was a fanciful dream, just like the glossy cruise pamphlets promised. But it was simply that—a dream. He’d glimpsed what his life might have been like if he’d taken a different path, if dancing had been his profession rather than mergers and acquisitions. A life of travel, of adventure. A life with Michaela in it.

But that wasn’t his path. His life was here. His responsibilities were here.

Dylan reached for his mother’s limp hand and sighed. Nothing was more important than this. Nothing.

“I should never have left,” he said aloud. “Goddamn Brian. The conniving son of a…” Dylan took a deep breath. “I should have known we couldn’t trust him. I’m so sorry, Mom.”

Lily put a hand on his shoulder as she came over to stand behind him. “It’s good to have you back,” she said.

Dylan nodded, gritting his teeth so he wouldn’t snap at her. “Maybe you could give us a little time together alone.” He felt Lily tense but didn’t turn to look as she left the room without a word.

He would deal with one thing at a time, and today that was his mother. He’d already put a stop to Brian’s dodgy hedge-fund domination aspirations. The mess Brian could have made of the business could wait. Lily and the kids could wait. Everything else could wait.

He wrestled his phone from his pocket while keeping hold of his mother’s hand. Leaving the cruise now was all wrong—exactly what he didn’t want to do—but he had no choice. He hoped Michaela would understand.




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