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CHAPTER ONE TORY FOURNIER UNZIPPED her suitcase and flipped it open. Inside nestled a host of flimsy dresses, swimsuits, flip-flops and sun hats. She frowned at the bright colors and lightweight cottons. Why had she gone crazy and bought hot-pink and aqua? She only ever wore black, beige or white. Suddenly everything in her case looked garish and cheap and even vaguely slutty. Great. Pushing a hand through her straight blond hair, Tory started to unpack. She didn’t really hate her new tropical wardrobe. Deep inside she knew that. But she was feeling frustrated and oddly depressed. As she hung her sundresses in the closet in the stateroom she’d been assigned, she forced herself to remember that she was on a luxurious cruise ship, about to sail into the Caribbean for ten sun-filled days. There were about a million worse places to be, and not many better. Back in New York, for example, it was snowing. People were wearing gloves, scarves and hats and tucking their faces into their turned-u
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO “OKAY, PEOPLE, THAT’S enough,” Janice called. “We’ll break for lunch. I’ll see you back here at two.” Like the other dancers around her, Tracy let her shoulders drop and her stomach pop out. Sweat made her leotard stick to her back and chest, and her knee ached from all the high kicks Janice had made them do, over and over. Even though they all knew the routine backward, forward, inside out, their tyrannical leader and choreographer was a stickler for rehearsal and she ensured that they all went over the evening’s routines each day before releasing them for their other onboard duties. “You’re not on vacation,” Janice said at least once a day to some member or other of the entertainment crew. Tracy always wanted to respond with a smart-ass quip. They were floating in the middle of the Caribbean on an enormous cruise ship, they lived in crowded crew quarters up to eight berths per cabin and they worked almost constantly. It was highly unlikely that anyone, no matter how optim
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE THE TERM BUTT-HEAD HAD been expressly invented for Ben Cooper, Tory decided as she forced another smile onto her stiff lips. They’d nearly finished their afternoon cooking demonstration, and if she had a voodoo doll made in his image, she’d twist its head off and throw it in the rubbish disposal. She bristled all over again as she remembered the way he’d walked in as though he owned the place and started rearranging the kitchen. He was exactly the way she’d remembered him, only more so. More confident. More cocky. More charismatic. God, how she hated admitting that to herself, especially after what he’d said to her. But it was the truth. Age had not wearied him. Age had in fact been damned kind to him. His body was stronger, more muscular, his face more attractive with its laugh lines and the hint of roguish crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes. The thing that really got her goat—apart from his born-to-rule mentality in their shared kitchen—was that he patently thought
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR TORY TURNED HER FACE into the cool sea breeze and stared up at the navy-blue sky. Why was it that the stars seemed to sparkle so much more brightly out at sea? She told herself there was probably some incredibly rational scientific explanation, like the fact that there was less ambient light from city streetlights to distract the eye, for example. Not quite as romantic and magical an explanation as a woman might hope for but probably more accurate than putting the spectacular sky show down to there being tropical magic in the air. Of its own accord, her hand found the silver teardrop pendant hanging from her neck. The precious metal was warm from her skin, and she peered down at it wryly. Perhaps this whole true-love-legend thing was starting to rub off on her after all. Dinner had been a trial. There was no other word for it. Being forced to sit next to Ben all night, rubbing shoulders with him occasionally, inhaling his crisp aftershave…She’d felt on edge and on her guar
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE TORY WASN’T QUITE SURE what had happened. One minute she’d been mad as hell at Ben, and the next she’d been laughing so hard that she’d been in serious danger of losing her breakfast. They’d destroyed the demonstration kitchen. There was no other way to describe it. They’d had a temporary moment of insanity—a shared one—and now they had to face the consequences. She could just imagine the look on Patti’s face when she heard what had happened. Disappointed wouldn’t begin to describe it. All the food they’d prepared was ruined. The johnnycake batter, Ben’s ingredients for whatever local secret he’d been planning to upstage her with today, even her computer case—all of it was covered in flour. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, she was filled with despair. “We are so screwed,” she said miserably. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Ben said, sliding an arm around her shoulders in what she could only describe as a fraternal fashion. “We spend ten minutes tidying up like crazy
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX TRACY’S SHOULDERS WERE stiff with tension as she walked down the corridor toward Victoria Fournier’s stateroom. She now knew everything there was to know about the woman who had found the pendant—her full name, her date of birth and passport number, her role as guest lecturer on the cruise, even her home contact details. Her concierge friend had been very obliging in allowing her to use his access terminal to verify a guest’s details. She’d pretended that she’d met Tory in one of the bars and that the other woman had left her evening wrap behind. Her concierge friend had offered to have the wrap returned to Tory’s room, but Tracy had spun a line about her and Tory really hitting it off and wanting to catch up with her again. It had been too easy to get what she wanted, mostly because her friends and colleagues trusted her. Ever since she’d fallen into this mess she’d come to understand how easy it was for Salvatore and others like him to slip beneath the radar and sneak the
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN BEN ADJUSTED THE COLLAR on his shirt. He felt…nervous was the only word he could come up with to describe the tension in his body. Which was just plain stupid. It wasn’t as if this was some big date or anything. Hell, he’d even slept with Tory before—there wasn’t the thrill of the unknown to put him on edge. So why was his foot tapping the ground in a constant tattoo and why was he darting glances toward the door of La Belle Epoque every thirty seconds? They were having a drink. That was all. Obviously parts of his anatomy would be doing the happy dance if it turned into anything more than that, but either way, there was nothing to be nervous about. For the tenth time in five minutes he shot a glance toward the door—and this time she was there. He was on his feet before he could stop himself. She looked amazing in a knee-length floral sundress in muted shades of lemon and peach. He eyed the sway of her willowy body as she strode toward him—and then he saw the notebook in
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT BEN BRACED HIMSELF AS Tory swung through the double doors into the cuisine arts center. He’d had a couple of hours to ready himself to face her disappointment, hurt and anger. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her, but he would only hurt her more if he let her believe that last night had been anything more than great sex. He took a deep breath—and got his first surprise when she flashed a warm smile his way. “Good morning,” she said. She was wearing a short little wraparound skirt in bright yellow, paired with a navy-and-white-striped tank top. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and he had to wrench his attention back to her face. “Uh, yeah,” he said uncertainly. “I slept like a log after you left,” she said breezily as she set up for the day. “Must have been all that sea air.” She shot him a wicked look, her mouth quirked in a wry little grin. Ben blinked again. “Right,” he said stupidly. Perhaps because he’d spent so long thinking over what he was going to say to
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE “SOMETHING SMELLS wonderful,” Nick said, and Ben looked up to see his friend escorting Helena into the center. “That would be my jerk chicken,” Tory said cheekily, flashing Ben a challenging smile. He didn’t return it. Instead he gave her a long, steady look, putting her on notice that there was unfinished business between them still. She gave absolutely no indication that she had received his message, but he noted that she stepped as far away from him as she could without abandoning the stove top altogether. “I have been thinking about this all day,” Helena said, eyeing with interest the two platters he and Tory had made up. “Is that watermelon?” She was looking at the salad Ben had put together. “Yep,” Ben said. Quickly he explained that watermelon-and-tomato salad was a great accompaniment to any jerk-seasoned dish, as it cleared and cooled the palate. “But you’ve chosen mangoes and bananas, Tory?” Helena asked. “For the same reasons. More sweet, where Ben’s is tart, bu
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN TORY FOUND THE NAME at midnight, just as she was rubbing her eyes with weariness. She hadn’t had the best night’s sleep last night—for obvious reasons—and she was wilting over the stack of her brother’s correspondence when she read the woman’s name. Anneisha. She jerked upright and rescanned the letter. Michael was talking about a day tour he’d taken with a local tour guide. Her name was Anneisha. Michael wrote that for the first time in six months, he’d met someone who laughed at all his jokes. Anneisha, he’d concluded, got him. That was all, but it was enough. Apart from work colleagues, Michael hadn’t mentioned another woman’s name in all his letters. This had to mean something. She checked the date—May tenth. Michael’s plane had crashed in October. More than enough time for him to start some kind of relationship with a tour guide who “got him.” There was a hopeful light in the blue eyes that stared out at her from the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. She had a
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN SWEARING, BEN PASSED Eva back to Danique. “Is something wrong?” Danique asked, staring after Tory with concern. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Ben shook his head and took off after Tory. He didn’t stop to ask himself why it was so important to him that she understand the truth about Eva. A week ago, he wouldn’t have given two pinches if she jumped to the wrong conclusion about him. But a lot had shifted since he’d boarded Alexandra’s Dream. He was just in time to see the side door closing behind her and he followed her down the back stairs and onto the beach. She didn’t realize he’d followed her for a few seconds, and he saw so much confusion and disappointment and anger on her face that he couldn’t stop himself from striding to her side and grabbing her shoulders. “She’s not my daughter, Tory,” he said firmly. “I know it looked bad, but it’s true.” “You called yourself Daddy—I heard you,” she said accusingly. “I know you think I’m a naive idiot, but I wasn’t born
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE TORY COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time someone had raised a hand to her. Preschool? The playground at elementary school? And now three grown men had torn at her clothes and thrown her to the ground, and Ben had fought them off with his bare hands. Every time she remembered the way he’d told her to run and then launched himself at the biggest, ugliest thug, she felt sick and dizzy. What if he’d been killed? That one thought reverberated around and around her mind as she allowed herself to be escorted to the ship’s medical center to be checked over. Ben was in the next room, and she could hear the low rumble of his voice as he assured the nurses and doctor that he was fine. Just hearing his voice and knowing that he was nearby made her feel better, calmer. “I can only offer my heartfelt apologies that this should happen to you on one of our cruises, Tory,” a deep voice said, and she looked up to find Nick Pappas in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. “I’m fine, real
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN TORY’S NOSE WAS RED from too many tissues, and she suspected her eyes were puffy from crying. None of it mattered, however, because standing in the doorway was Tarik, her brother’s son. She and Anneisha had talked for an hour, filling in each other’s blanks. Anneisha had wept on and off, heartbroken over Michael’s death. Tory understood that, despite the protective wall of anger that Anneisha had built up around herself over the years, she’d never stopped loving Michael. Tory had shared childhood tales with the other woman, describing some of Michael’s crazy exploits. Ben had moved in and out of the room, making coffee, serving up cookies, hunting out a fresh box of tissues. She’d exchanged smiles with him as he’d guffawed at some of Michael’s worst stunts and for the first time registered that Michael and Ben shared many personality traits—the easygoing attitude, the devil-may-care risk taking, the mischievous bent. She wondered if that was why she’d been drawn to Ben
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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