Chapter Eight

Fool.

What the hell had he been thinking? He’d challenged the captain of the entire ship, and instead of falling gratefully into his arms, Michaela had run scared. As he watched her walk away, a strange sensation washed over him.

Sea-sickness? Surely not.

He looked at his hands, realizing they felt empty.

Odd. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline leaving his system after having it out with the captain.

He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d met Captain Atkinson’s type before. The onset of a paunch made some men feel threatened, and to make up for the menace of aging they took to bullying those around them. Usually it was a string of younger women, but the captain apparently made do with his plentiful staff. Stand up to a man like that with a decent argument, and they usually backed down without too much of a fight. What was true in the business world seemed to be true in the cruise ship world.

You better hope so.

With any luck, the captain wouldn’t want to risk being embarrassed by another standoff with him. But either way, the damage was done now. The bigger question was why Dylan had gotten so riled in the first place. This thing with Michaela was supposed to be casual.

Then again, “this thing” wasn’t much of anything now. The strange feeling washed over him again, and he shook his head to get rid of it.

It was too bad Michaela had been scared off. He’d been looking forward to consummating their affair.

Something buzzed in his pocket, and Dylan reached instinctively for his cell. Of course—they were docking in the morning. Land wasn’t far off, so reception would be back online. Sweeping the screen, he scanned his messages. Five from Brian and ten from Lily. For a moment, he considered ignoring them. He was supposed to be away for three months, letting them sort out their problems themselves.

But the kids might have used Lily’s phone to call him. They sometimes did that. Giving his brother and sister-in-law time out was one thing, and abandoning the kids was another. They’d been upset enough when he told them he was leaving.

He turned to go find Michaela, thinking it would be good to talk the situation over with her.

Dylan stopped in his tracks as the realization hit him like a slap of cold water. Michaela Western wasn’t his to share with. The feeling he’d discerned washing over him wasn’t sea-sickness, it was a sense of loss.

Maybe he should have told her why he was here, asked her for advice. She might have some insight into the situation that he’d failed to find over the years.

Lily’s kids deserved someone with Michaela’s strength in their lives. Someone who told it like it was, but with a smile. Someone who was clear about who they were and what they wanted out of life.

But what good would unburdening himself with her have done? Michaela didn’t owe him anything, and she sure couldn’t help resolve the mess Brian had made of his family. It wasn’t even his mess to resolve. It was just a drama he’d found himself drawn into again and again because of his empathy for his nephews and Lily, and because some shred of loyalty in him still hoped Brian would pull his head out of his ass and become a decent father.

Michaela wouldn’t have anything helpful to say. It wasn’t the kind of problem that had a solution.

Talking to her might have got rid of this annoying feeling, though.

Dylan steeled himself. He didn’t need anyone’s help. Certainly not the help of the cruise director of a ship he’d leave soon and likely never return to.

He opened the first text message. “They’re family,” he reminded himself, and started reading.

…

The next day was the last of the cruise, and the ship was already most of the way down the long stretch of Waitemata harbor in Auckland when the passengers woke. It took some time for the ship to dock and for all the disembarking procedures to be finalized, leaving plenty of time for passengers to wander the decks, gossiping and waving to people on the streets below.

Michaela woke groggy and listened to the bustle of the ship. The entire drama came back, playing out in vivid color. She groaned as she thought about going outside among passengers who had assumed so easily that she had seduced a youth hardly old enough to be called a man. If only her office were in a hidden part of the ship.

Dragging herself up, she stood under the shower, dressed, and tiptoed out of her room, up the back stairs, and—joy of joys—into her office undiscovered.

She soon lost herself in the busy clamor of coordinating the entertainment for the next cruise. It was only when her deputy walked in that she remembered how easily she might have been replaced. Forever.

“God, what a nightmare,” Darren, her deputy, said after an awkward silence. “I’m so glad everything was sorted out. I couldn’t believe the accusations, none of us could.”

“Everyone knew?” Michaela asked.

“Sorry. You have to admit, it was pretty good gossip.”

Michaela sighed, and then a laugh bubbled to the surface. It was true. Juicy gossip was gold on board. “I guess it was—me seducing some boy, practically still a teenager.”

Darren snorted. “I was pretty impressed. I mean, you’re hot for sure, but that’s a lot more cougar than I thought you had in you…”

The two of them dissolved into laughter, and Michaela felt the tension of the previous evening start to dissolve. Relief affected people in different ways, she realized. Despite her vow to leave the ship, she was very relieved that she wasn’t being forced off.

When Darren left and Michaela had finally got over the giggles, she turned back to her computer. Opening a file marked “personal,” she scanned through six years of photographs, thank-you letters, and mementos of her time on board. “I’ve got a good job,” she said aloud.

A great job. She was still young—young enough to inspire seduction stories. Clicking the files closed, she made a decision. She wasn’t leaving just yet.

The captain had so easily dismissed her abilities because she was a woman. No doubt he’d relished having an excuse to get rid of her. Jealousy was a powerful drug, and the way the captain had looked at her had illustrated just what a nasty enemy he could be if she wasn’t careful.

Well, he wouldn’t be able to brandish his power again. She would be the picture of professionalism, and that meant no more Dylan.

They hadn’t even spent a whole evening together, yet the thought of not talking to him, not admiring him as he danced—of being his boss and nothing else—turned her heart to concrete.

But she could avoid him. He hardly needed her to watch over him. Performing would be easier for him on the next cruise, Michaela knew. The nerves would only be there to provide adrenaline before stepping on stage, and the routines would be more familiar. She’d seen this situation before—once the team got into a groove, the shows just got better and better.

“Better and better,” she muttered. He was already spectacular, so seeing Dylan at his peak would be something else.

Michael couldn’t help but think about Dylan getting better in the bedroom, too. Even though it had been a few days since their moment of passion, her skin still tingled whenever she thought about their time together in the shower. And his smile…

No. She would keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her work. He hadn’t promised to sweep her off her feet and take her away from all this. Quite the opposite, he seemed excited about being onboard—more excited even than the younger dancers. He was probably just looking for someone to keep his bed warm while he worked out his passion on stage. Then, when he’d had his fill, he’d leave the cruise business—and her—for good.

Then where would she be?

Still onboard and alone.

But still, here was better than nowhere, and that, she realized with a shiver, was where she might well have been if the young man’s story hadn’t been disputed.

She strode out of her office, determined to focus on work, but as she pushed through a door she discovered Dylan right in front of her. He leaned over the railing, talking animatedly on his cell.

“God damn it, you were the one who told me to get out of the way for three months. This isn’t my problem, remember? Not unless you want it to be all of a sudden.” Dylan paused. “Of course I’m not going to step in. You were right, I’m not the marrying type.”

The concrete in Michaela’s heart crumbled a little, an edge breaking off and lodging itself uncomfortably in her stomach. He had told her he wasn’t keen on marriage, but she’d thought maybe…maybe she would stop the captain being an ass, keep her career, win Dylan’s heart, and live happily ever after? Good one.

She looked for an escape route, but if she opened the door to go back into her office, Dylan would have noticed she was there.

“Put them on then.” Dylan’s posture changed, the anger that had held him rigid softening as he pushed back from the rail and stood up. “Hey, you guys looking after Mommy?”

A child? Children? Michaela reeled. He’d said he liked kids, not that he already had them.

“You need to look after her. Yes, I know, it’s a bit hard at the moment, but it’s going to get better, you’ll see. Yes, I’ll come visit you again soon. I know you don’t like it when I’m not in town, but Brian is there now. You looking after him? Good. Yes, I said I’d see you soon. Promise. Okay. Yes, love you too, bye.” He finished the call and swung around. “Michaela.”

She’d turned, pushing through the door and fleeing into her office.

“Michaela, wait.” He pushed into the room.

“You can’t be in here.” She tried to shove him back out the door, but he took both her hands in his.

“Stop. You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Obviously.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He dropped her hands and rubbed his jaw, clearly considering what to tell her. Michaela tensed, irritated with herself because even though she’d just heard him talking to his kids and dissing their mother, she still wanted to touch him.

“How much did you hear?” he asked.

“Enough to know that you’re not a very good father.”

“Father?” Dylan laughed. Laughed! She couldn’t believe it.

“I’m not a father.”

“Sure sounded like it to me.” Michaela knew she was being defensive—possessive, even—but she didn’t care.

“Sit. I should have told you about this at the beginning.” He led her forcefully to a chair and sat down beside her. “They aren’t my kids. They’re my brother’s. And I’m not really a dancer. I run our family company.”

Michaela was too stunned to say anything.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you that part. You could have me fired for lying my way into the audition, but I don’t think you will. I think I know you well enough to trust you on this.”

“You think you know me?” Michaela’s hackles rose so high, she felt like she had thorns bursting through her skin. “You lied, and I should keep your secret?”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “I had to get away. My brother cheated on my sister-in-law, has been pretty much doing his own thing for ten years and left me to run the family business. I looked after his wife and kids every time he was gone. Then he came home last year—he says for good this time—and he wanted to be super dad and the conquering businessman all at once. My mother, my sister-in-law…they both think he deserves one more chance, so what choice did I have? The kids are only twelve and seven years old. They need a dad. But Lily kept running to me instead of working it out with him. I was in the way.”

“So you thought you’d become a dancer on a cruise ship? What’s wrong with taking a normal holiday?”

“Yeah, seems a bit rich, doesn’t it? My mother danced, and I had planned to go to dance school before Brian ran off the first time. I saw the poster for the auditions, and it all seemed like it was meant to be.” He looked down at her with hooded eyes, but she didn’t buy the “meant to be” line. Not from Dylan.

“I figured working on the ship would give me something to do,” he said. “I’m not very good at holidays.”

Michaela was glad she was sitting down. He was right, she wanted to believe him and even admire him for his honesty. “It’s not just that, though, is it? You love dancing. It’s obvious to everyone who watches you.”

He shrugged.

“You’re going to admit that you lied your way into an audition so you could dance, but not that you love it?”

“I guess I didn’t…or I’d forgotten.” He paused, and his face creased as he considered what she’d said. “It’s good to move. Nice to work my body so much for a change. But it doesn’t really make any difference. It’s nice for three months is all.”

His crestfallen look touched at something deep inside Michaela. He was lost, alone with his thoughts, and she was almost loath to speak. The pause lengthened until she couldn’t resist. “Does it have to be just for three months?”

Dylan started, and the vulnerability she’d seen vanished. He’d locked it up tight somewhere deep inside of him, replacing it with the arrogance that she now understood he wore as a mask.

“Getting away is nice,” he said. “Being out of the office is nice. Being with you is nice. Maybe it could be our little secret?” He gave her a winning smile.

She returned his smile, despite her disappointment that the sincere Dylan had disappeared again. “I’m your boss, remember? Do you expect me to lie for you?”

“No. But…” He gave a pretty good imitation of someone trying not to look smug, even though she didn’t believe it for a second. “It doesn’t look like you have to. Turns out I’m a pretty good dancer—or so you keep telling me.” The look turned from smug to confident. “Why would anyone care where I’ve come from?”

“That’s not the point.”

Dylan sighed, dropping his bravado for a moment. “I just wanted you to know everything. Lily and her kids are family, and I know what it’s like to grow up without a father. They’ve counted on me for so much, I wanted to do what was best for them. I had to take a break in a way they would believe, in a way that didn’t make them feel like I was abandoning them. I thought you might understand that. I thought you valued family, too. It’s up to you what you do.”

He stood and walked out of her office with no more ceremony than if he’d only popped in to tell her what was for lunch.

…

Michaela’s drink that evening with Felicity was a welcome distraction from her thoughts. They sat in a dark corner in one of the more sophisticated bars on the ship. While upstairs there were glossy counters and golden lights, midships offered a couple of cocktail lounges where people could find a modicum of privacy. Michaela sipped at the Emerald Dream that Felicity had put in front of her and thought about the last time she had had the same drink. A sigh escaped her, and Felicity gave her a sharp look.

“Sorry. Just thinking about the captain telling me I was less capable of being cruise director because I was a woman,” she lied.

“I can’t believe he said that to you,” Felicity snarled. “And then to be so damn unapologetic.”

Banishing the sigh and its cousin, regret, Michaela flapped her hand, dismissing the captain and her thoughts of Dylan Johns. “So give me some mindless gossip,” she said. “I know I don’t usually ask, but I need the distraction.”

Felicity gave her a gentle smile and put a finger to her mouth as if contemplating which piece of juicy gossip to impart. “Well, Mr. Chocolate has gotten together with one of your young dancers, one of the twins, I think. It’s entirely unfair—I’m probably much better in bed than her—but I guess she is only twenty, and she’s gorgeous. He’s been pretty vocal about the fact he’s just looking for a bit of tail.”

“You mean you’re going to let him get away with it?”

“I can hardly force him to want my middle-aged self, can I? He’s the fool that doesn’t know what experience counts for. Although I could tie him up with so much paperwork that he has to be down at my feet the whole time, I guess. Nice idea.” Felicity gave her a grin.

“I meant flaunting a relationship with another staffer. You’re going to let him parade her around?”

“Oh, come on, it’s not news, is it? I think this is probably man number five for little miss dancer, and it’s not like Mr. Chocolate is married or anything.”

Michaela blushed, thinking of the captain, but Felicity must have missed it in the dim light.

“You’ve not noticed the sneaky flashes of eyebrow and the giggling in the corridors? And before you go off ranting at your dancer, you can’t tell me you don’t know about all the admin staff. God, this ship is one of the filthiest I’ve been on. Must be the captain setting a good example.” Felicity laughed.

Michaela looked at her friend blankly.

“I know you know about the captain.” Felicity wasn’t smiling now. “The two-faced bastard, at least he’s not with his wife anymore. Sort of makes his philandering okayish. But to go and tear strips off you for having an affair, that’s pretty rich.”

“You know?”

“About you and the captain? Sorry, sweets, but everyone knew. I heard about it as part of my induction. Privacy is pretty hard to come by on a ship.”

“But—”

“Everyone figured you’d put yourself out of bounds after that.”

“Everyone knew? Everyone knows?” Michaela couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice.

“Everyone knows about everyone. It’s not like anyone thinks the worse of you. The whole staff thought the captain was a bit of a catch. Not so much anymore, of course, now that it’s obvious he’s just a dirty player—and, let’s be honest, he’s letting himself go. I don’t know what Bridget thinks she’s doing.”

“Bridget from security is with the captain?” Michaela was incredulous.

“Yep. Almost three months. That’s probably a record for him.”

“But you never said anything.”

“You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to talk about that sort of thing. I thought you still saw what was going on, though. Are you sure we’ve been on the same ship these last months?”

“I guess I’ve been busy.”

Had she? Or had she chosen not to see?

“I know. You’ve really thrown yourself back into it now, though, haven’t you? But you are allowed a bit of fun, you know. Everyone thought you and Dylan would make a great couple. He obviously really likes you.”

“What?” Michaela’s yelp turned several heads in the bar, and she had to duck to hide from the enquiring glances. “What?” she hissed.

“Come on, do you think no one noticed? Last cruise, Dylan wouldn’t let you dance with anyone else, and you had a secret little smile on your face all the time. Then the whole Christopher thing… You didn’t deny you were with someone.”

Michaela was reeling—first because people had known all along about her dalliances with the captain and Dylan, and second to learn anyone cared about her love life. “But I can’t.” She didn’t add that Dylan had lied his way onto the ship and that he would be leaving at the end of his contract.

“I think if you took a poll of your staff, you’d find you can. And they’d love it if you did. They were just getting used to you smiling and laughing with them when you put your shell back up.”

Michaela said nothing. She couldn’t think what to say.

“Look,” Felicity continued, “if you’ve gone off him, fair enough, but don’t turn yourself into a nun because you think you should.”

“But the captain… I have to prove to him that a woman can do this job just as well as a man. Better, even.”

“Oh, Michaela, you practically told Captain Atkinson you’d got it on with Dylan. Remember, you admitted to having a tryst? He was just spiky that you weren’t pining for him anymore. He’ll be fine as long as Bridget keeps putting out.”

A glimmer of something warm came to life in Michaela’s stomach. Then her heart caught up, and finally her head.

This was a man she really liked.

And she could be with him without jeopardizing her job.

Felicity sat back, holding Michaela by the shoulders and peering into her face. “Oh my God! You’re still totally into him, aren’t you?”

The small nod Michaela gave belied the way she really felt. Dylan had been honest with her, even though telling her his secrets could have lost him his place on her staff. If their budding relationship wasn’t going to affect her role, what did it matter if she started something with him?

A relationship? Hmm…maybe not that. But even a bit of short-term fun would be better than not seeing him at all. The concrete in her chest softened, and her heart beat a little faster. “How am I going to see him? I can’t turn up at his stateroom door.”

“Why not? His roomie is hardly going to mind. Or perhaps you can just call him and demand an urgent meeting in your stateroom,” Felicity said, a twinkle in her eye.

Michaela shook her head. She still took her position and the threat of the captain making her life a misery seriously.

“Go ashore, then. We’re in Vanuatu tomorrow.”

“Oh!” Michaela exclaimed. “Really?”

Felicity said nothing.

“Really. Right, where shall we start?”

Best she took control back on her own terms. It was time she got what she wanted.

With Felicity’s help, Michaela booked a room in a secluded resort. Then she slipped a note—firmly sealed against the prying eyes of his roommate—under Dylan’s stateroom door. She had ummed and ahhed about what to write, but in the end she played it safe.

Please allow me to thank you for saving my career and reputation. Thank you for being honest with me. Meet me ashore at ten o’clock tomorrow morning at the Pacific Sun Resort. They are expecting us.