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  …

  “What the hell were you thinking, taking his word for it? Don’t you usually check the facts first?”

  Michaela heard the row before she even entered the bridge. Was that Dylan shouting? She hesitated at the door. There was something about the challenge in his voice that gave her pause—and a thrill. Was he taking up for her? She unclenched her hands, tried to steady herself as gratitude, indignation, and hope washed over her all at once.

  “She didn’t deny it.” That was the captain.

  “You probably didn’t give her a chance to deny anything. I bet you bully all your female staff.” That was definitely Dylan. Was he crazy?

  Michaela couldn’t move, her hand stuck on the doorknob, but suddenly the door opened, pulling her into the room.

  “Here she is. Do you deny it this time?” the captain asked.

  Michaela stammered as she looked between the furious faces of her two ex-lovers.

  “She doesn’t even know what she’s denying. Wait.” Dylan held up a hand to silence the captain. “Do you know this boy?” Dylan thrust a pale-faced youth she hadn’t noticed in front of her.

  “Him? Um, I’m not sure, is he a passenger? Are you a passenger?” she asked the young man.

  “You don’t know his name?” Dylan’s eyes shimmered.

  “No, should I?” Michaela’s confusion must have shown clearly on her face. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

  “His name is Christopher, but you really didn’t know that, did you?” The corner of Dylan’s mouth curled into a smile.

  “I’m sorry,” Christopher said. “I, um…” He trailed off.

  “Come on lad, speak up.” The captain was gruff, no doubt riled by Dylan’s tirade.

  “I’m sorry. I made the whole thing up. I said that you seduced me ‘cause…well, I was trying to impress the others.” The words came out of Christopher in a rush. “I’m sorry I said anything, and I’m really sorry it got you in trouble.”

  “So you won’t lose your job, or your position, or anything.” Dylan spoke to her, but his eyes remained fixed on the captain, a challenge in every word.

  Michaela looked from one to the other, trying to take it all in. The mess wasn’t anything to do with her liaison with Dylan, just as he’d said. The entire situation was about this young boy. “You just made the story up?”

  Christopher nodded.

  Several seconds passed, and a flush crested up the captain’s face. “Yes, all just a big misunderstanding,” he said finally. “Get him out of here.” The captain pushed the young man into the protective custody of one of his assistants, who hurried the passenger toward the door.

  “Hang on,” Michaela said, suddenly finding her anger. “I almost lost my job, and that’s all you have to say?”

  “Nothing we can do about it now. And we’ll have a whole new load of passengers shortly.” The captain turned, his white shoes squeaking in his haste to get away. Dylan put out a hand.

  “Don’t you think she deserves an apology, Captain?” Dylan’s voice was calm, but his eyes demanded a response.

  “Not from me. The boy should have known better.” The captain paused as if about to say something else to Dylan, but he must have thought better of it. “This will be the end of it. Michaela.” He nodded to her, and one of his assistants ushered them all off the bridge.

  Christopher scuttled away, almost breaking into a run as he looked back over his shoulder into Michaela’s angry eyes. She was left standing outside the bridge with her indignation and Dylan, who watched her closely.

  This was more than just an unexpected turn of events. She’d witnessed something in Dylan—a powerful protective streak that she hadn’t known was there. It was enticing, but made her wonder about his past. Surely no mere dancer would be able to muster such authority, to make even Captain Atkinson bow to his will?

  What did she know about Dylan Johns really? He knew plenty of her history, but there was a glaring gap where his life story should have been in her mind. She’d been so caught up in the romance of it, feeling safe with him, feeling sexy, she hadn’t looked that deeply into who Dylan really was. That was just asking for trouble. She’d learned as much from her affair with the captain. But every minute she spent with him was a minute she felt richer, more feminine, more alive. That was worth a bit of risk, wasn’t it?

  As they walked away from the bridge, Michaela became conscious of Dylan’s eyes on her. He wasn’t involved in this at all. There were no allegations about him and her. He was simply a spectator. “What are you doing here?”

  “I found Christopher. He’d been boasting, the rumor got around, and I refused to accept what he’d done.”

  “You saved me,” Michaela whispered, still not quite able to believe it. “You saved my job.”

  “I guess.”

  She looked up into his eyes. “What were you thinking, talking to the captain like that? You were the one who told me to be subtle with him.”

  “I don’t do subtle.” He thrust out his jaw. “Like I told you, I’ve met his type before, all bluster and bullying tactics. I’ve had more practice dealing with them than you have.”

  There it was again—the hint of another past.

  “This will be fine, don’t worry,” Dylan continued. “Anyway, I could have got caught up in the mix. That boy thought you were an easy target because he spotted us together. He was skulking around the crew quarters, and he saw me pulling you into my stateroom.”

  “That boy saw us?”

  “Well, not us, exactly. He saw you going into someone else’s stateroom, and he seemed pretty clear what you were about to get up to.”

  Michaela didn’t know whether to be flattered Dylan had bothered to rescue her or worried there’d be more repercussions from the captain.

  “Come on, I’ll get you a drink. You look like you need one.” Dylan’s smile promised all sorts of treats.

  Michaela could think of nothing better than to fall into those open arms and be held and reassured that everything would be all right. But not here. Not now. Perhaps not ever. “I think I just need time alone,” she said. “I’d be better to go and lie down.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Dylan said instantly. “Make sure you get off to sleep all right. I know just the technique to relax every part of you.” He reached out a hand to pull her toward him.

  “No,” she said quickly and backed off. “I don’t need to be seen with anyone else tonight.” She thought of the young boy and his rumor-mongering.

  Dylan’s face hardened.

  “But thank you,” she said, and meant it. “Thank you for finding out what really happened. Night.”

  She turned without waiting to see the look on his face and walked quickly back to her stateroom.

  Every part of her felt terrible.

  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 vi
sit 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.”