Fearless Page 4

  “Thank you. It will be my pleasure,” he said, and seated himself in the chair opposite her.

  Did he think she was coming on to him?

  She nodded and took another sip of her now-cold coffee.

  “The green tea and honey are especially good for . . . your health.” He placed a tea bag inside a fresh cup, added a huge dollop of honey, then poured boiling water from a carafe over the tea bag.

  “True, but I’m going to have another cup of this,” she replied, holding her cup in the air. Once in the kitchen, with her back to him, she asked, “Is this part of your duties? Having breakfast with me?” She waited for the dark brown liquid to fill the cup.

  “Yes, it is, if required,” he answered.

  Fair enough, she thought. Turning to face him, she leaned against the countertop, sipping the much-needed caffeine for the extra jolt it provided. “So how do you determine if this is required?” she asked, a smile on her face. She couldn’t help it. He was so handsome, so proper. Had he been twenty years older, she might be in trouble.

  “I have my ways,” he said, filling her plate with scrambled eggs and slices of avocado.

  “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’d think the same thing if I were in your position, but I only had two glasses of that champagne last night. What’s the alcohol content of that stuff anyway?” she asked, pretty sure of the answer but needing to say something in her own defense.

  “Ah, the Veuve Clicquot. No more than any other quality champagne. Around twelve or thirteen percent, I believe, but I’m no Philippe Clicquot, the founder of the French champagne house, one of the largest in the world. After he died, his wife—they called her the Grande Dame of Champagne—took over for him. Very successful. I believe she was in her late twenties when she was widowed. Quite the businesswoman for her generation, she invented the first-known rosé champagne by blending red and white champagne wines, a process still used to this very day. Very brilliant woman, as most are.”

  “I’m impressed,” Anna said. “You’re quite the sommelier and teacher.”

  He took a bite of egg, then a sip of tea. “Some would say it’s part of my job to know these things.”

  “Again, you’ve impressed me.”

  “Eat, Anna. Please,” he implored, not bothering to acknowledge her compliment.

  She sat down, feeling more like herself after her third cup of coffee.

  “What time is it, anyway?” she asked. “I wanted to attend the cooking class.” She took a forkful of eggs and a slice of avocado. Chewing, she realized she was hungry and hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. She took a slice of watermelon from the plate, a banana, and a few strawberries. All good hangover foods, she knew.

  “It’s after two,” he said.

  “In the afternoon?” She waved her hand in front of her. “Never mind. Of course, it’s afternoon,” she replied, answering her own question. Glancing outside to the balcony, she could tell by the sun’s position that it was midafternoon.

  “You missed the class, but they will have another on the return trip. Tonight, there is a dancing contest. It’s always one of the most attended events. You should go.”

  “I’m not much of a dancer,” she said. The only rhythm she possessed was in the kitchen.

  “As you’ll find, most of the guests aren’t. However, many will lose all inhibition when a bit of alcohol is consumed.”

  “That’s not going to be me. I am a teetotaler from here on in,” she said, then realized her mistake. “Possibly a fruity cocktail. I’ll have to get my sea legs before I indulge.” She almost added anymore but caught herself.

  “Then I’ll leave you to finish and prepare yourself for tonight. The fun starts at seven o’clock. If there is anything you need,” he said, as he returned his chair beneath the table, “all you have to do is push a button. Enjoy your afternoon, Anna.” He nodded, then returned to wherever he was supposed to be.

  “That was fast,” she said to no one.

  Her first day at sea was a total flop. Literally. What to do until seven? She left the table, food and all, and returned to the chaise lounge. Unsure if George’s behavior was normal, she reached for the satellite phone extension and dialed Mandy’s cell.

  “Hey,” Mandy said, sounding out of breath.

  “Hey, back. You okay?” Anna asked.

  “Out of shape is what I am. Hang on,” Mandy told her. “Okay, that’s better. I had to sit down. Christina is on a roller coaster. No way was I going with her. She’s fine. I had to trek across the park to the first-aid center. I’ve got blisters the size of golf balls.”

  Typical Mandy. “Please tell me you’re not wearing those espadrilles? The ones with the four-inch platforms?”

  Mandy didn’t answer.

  “You are, aren’t you?”

  “I didn’t realize SeaWorld was so . . . hilly.”

  “Then go buy yourself a pair of sandals! I’m sure there has to be some sort of gift shop there that sells shoes. I can’t believe you,” Anna said, and laughed. “Looks before comfort, I know.” Those were the words Mandy lived by. “Hilly? Isn’t Florida as flat as West Texas?”

  “Even more, if that’s humanly possible.”

  “I have a question. . . .”

  “I’m sure you do. Shoot,” Mandy said.

  “My steward, George. Super nice guy, but I’m wondering exactly what his duties consist of. I slept in”—another lie—“and he knocked on my door, had enough food for a family, set the table, then I casually asked him to join me, and I wasn’t remotely serious. And he did. Is that normal?”

  “Normally, no. I’ve never stayed in a cabin as luxurious as yours, but I’m sure the travel agent mentioned something about a personal butler. Did you ask him?”

  “Yes, and he basically said the same thing. I just thought it a little strange. I’m not used to being catered to.” She’d never get used to it because she liked her privacy too much.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t read more into this. All I can say is, enjoy it while it lasts. We’ve a heavy-duty filming session for the upcoming fall season. Speaking of which, I’d give anything for a bit of cool weather. It’s humid as hell today. What about you?”

  “I’m in the middle of nowhere, Mandy. The weather is”—she paused—“warm and sunny. Tell Christina I called. I’ll check in sometime tomorrow. “Remember, don’t let her out of your sight, and make sure you’re there when she exits the ride.”

  “She’s fine. Tell me about the captain’s dinner. Did you meet anyone worth mentioning?”

  She knew Mandy wouldn’t be satisfied without getting every detail she could. “I slept through the entire evening. I think I was . . . overtired. Plus, I had a Dramamine. So, no, I didn’t meet anyone worth mentioning.”

  “Anna, please get your rear end out of that room and mingle. You can sleep later. Do you know how many women would love to trade places with you? You’re out of your mind if you don’t take advantage of all those single guys.”

  She rolled her eyes, glad that she was alone. “I’m going to the dancing contest tonight. I have to be there at seven, so give my girl kisses, and I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Before Mandy could say another word, Anna disconnected the call. Now wasn’t the time for a sermon. She felt bad enough as it was, wasting the entire evening, embarrassed that George had to deliver breakfast—rather . . . brunch—to her room. With that in mind, she returned to her room and unpacked. She hung all her dresses in the closet, put her lingerie in a drawer, and used another for her shorts and T-shirts. Before she did anything else, she took the bottle of Xanax out of her cosmetic bag and placed the bottle in the small safe in the back of the closet. She followed the instructions and assured herself the medication was secure, out of temptation for her or anyone else who entered her suite. Not that she didn’t trust George. Worse, she didn’t trust herself not to toss a couple pills in her bag, and at the first sign of a panic attack, pop them into her mouth.

  Not wanting to
go there, she decided she’d have a bath before the evening’s big event. She filled the tub with hot water and lowered herself into the sweet warmth. This was perfect. She used the Guerlain bath salts, the scent reminding her of a perfume her mother had worn. She knew it was still around but couldn’t recall its exact name. Later, she might research it, but now, all she wanted to do was soak her worries away, get all glammed up for the evening, and just enjoy being here. Mandy had taken the time to make all these arrangements with the travel agency. Her special coffee and the Norman Love chocolates she was so fond of. She was right; anyone in their right mind would envy such a luxurious vacation.

  Anna was about to drift off when she heard a noise. Unsure if George would wait for her permission to enter, she eased out of the tub, wrapping herself in a towel, and went to the cabin’s main entrance. She waited but didn’t hear anything else. Deciding it was some sort of normal ship noise that she wasn’t aware of, she turned away and headed for her room and she heard the noise again. She stopped and waited.

  Metal jiggling. Like keys in a pocket.

  Could my stalker have followed me to the Caribbean?

  It was probably someone passing her room who just happened to have keys in their pocket. Anna made a mental note to tell George not to enter her rooms when she was there unless she called for him or there was an emergency. While she appreciated the personal touch, she didn’t want to have him just walking in whenever he wanted. Sure, this wasn’t the cruise line’s policy, but she still needed him to know she had boundaries.

  Back in her room, she picked out a lemon-yellow dress, a leftover from last summer but still stylish enough to wear that evening. She spent the next twenty minutes drying her hair, then twisted it into a sophisticated topknot. She added a powder foundation and a bit of blush and mascara. A touch of sheer lip gloss was enough. She wore so much makeup when they were filming, it would be good for her and her skin to have a break from all the heavy-duty stuff. This was her glam for the night.

  Anna took out a small silver clutch and added her cell phone, just in case, the lip gloss, and her room key. No need for cash, a credit card, or an ID since her room key would be scanned, and all charges added to her final bill at the end of the cruise. She couldn’t imagine what damage she’d allowed Mandy to do to her bank account for this trip, but she’d live with whatever it was. With a smart financial advisor, Anna had secured not only her future but Christina’s, too. Her daughter would be able to attend the college of her choice provided her grades were up to par. Anna would never allow herself to become dependent on Christina or anyone else for that matter. She’d worked her ass off to be in this position, and no one would ever take it away from her.

  A bit proud of her own success, she left her cabin, and decided that, come hell or high water, she was going to enjoy the evening.

  Chapter 4

  The Splendor of the Sea was beyond magnificent. The brochure didn’t do it justice. Glass elevators, giant chandeliers, and large, cushy sofas and plush chairs invited one to lounge in sumptuous comfort.

  Anna didn’t remember the stats of the ship, but surely, it could easily house a few thousand people. How in the world would she or anyone else find that one special person in such a large pool of singles?

  Exiting the glass elevator, she was amazed at the quiet, especially knowing this wasn’t just some deep-sea fishing boat of the kind, with only a few passengers, that her father had captained. She’d expected to be bombarded by crowds.

  There was still an hour before the contest, so she decided to have dinner before the festivities. The main dining room, the Compass Royale, accommodated all guests in the more luxurious cabins, without them having to bother to make a reservation. Delicious scents guided her to a stunning room overlooking the water. There were round tables scattered throughout the room, adorned with crisp, white-linen tablecloths, and surrounded by lush gold-and-maroon seats that appeared as cushy as those in the main atrium. Not sure of the procedure since she’d spent her first night at sea passed out, she spied a giant lectern with two men dressed like George. She approached the pair, smiling. “Uh, hello. Am I too early for dinner?” She looked around, seeing only a sprinkling of guests seated sporadically throughout the large dining space.

  “Not at all, ma’am,” said one of the men in a heavy Spanish accent. “Please, follow me.”

  Anna followed him to a table overlooking the aquamarine Caribbean Sea. “This is stunning,” she said, sitting down in the chair he pulled out for her. “I had no idea,” she added, more to herself than him. She knew the waters of the Caribbean were much different from those of the Gulf of Mexico, but until actually seeing them, she hadn’t realized how dazzling they were. Obviously, she’d slept through their arrival to the Caribbean.

  “Excuse me,” a deep male voice said, interrupting her reverie.

  Anna turned her gaze from the blue water to a pair of striking sapphire eyes. Momentarily taken aback, she couldn’t help herself. This man was gorgeous. With thick black hair a bit long, he reminded her of a Viking. He was tall—at least six-three—with a with broad and muscular chest, obvious given the tight white dress shirt he wore. He was so handsome, it disturbed her in ways she’d long forgotten.

  “Yes?” she asked, feeling slightly embarrassed for staring but thinking he was probably used to it, given his good looks and body.

  He smiled, and again, she felt physical sensations that’d been dormant for years.

  “Forgive me for staring, but aren’t you the Anna Campbell?” he asked. “From Lubbock?”

  Relief surged through her, though she was unsure why. “I am, indeed,” she said, in her best vlogging voice.

  “I thought so,” he said. “I’m a big fan.”

  Warning lights blared.

  You’re safe on this ship.

  She knew she had thousands of fans but hadn’t really thought about their physical characteristics. Many fans were men, and those she’d met did not look like the male specimen before her. “Thank you,” was all she could come up with.

  He gestured to the empty seat. “May I?” he asked.

  So, this is how it works!

  Hesitating for a few seconds, she replied, “Of course.”

  Seated across from her, she observed lines etched around his eyes and a smattering of gray hair at his temples. His skin was tanned, and a dark shadow of stubble outlined a chiseled jaw and square chin. Early- to mid-forties, she would guess.

  He held a hand out to her. “Ryan Robertson from Lubbock, as you might’ve guessed. I’m just a groupie, and when I saw you, I had to introduce myself, make sure you’re the real deal. I watch The Simple Life every Tuesday night, eight o’clock sharp.”

  Anna laughed. “I didn’t realize I had any ‘groupies,’ Ryan Robertson from Lubbock.” And if I do, she thought, it never would have occurred to me that they’d look like you, she wanted to add but kept to herself.

  “Maybe that’s not the right word, but I recognized you when I saw you sit down. So,” he said, “I take it you’re here alone?”

  More alarm bells. Anna thought this was obvious since this was a singles cruise, and said, “If you’re asking if I’m here with other singles, the answer is no.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have intruded on your privacy. When I saw you, I just . . . well, here I am. An overexcited fan,” he said.

  She wasn’t sure if she should invite him to have dinner with her; she didn’t want to seem desperate, however, this was a singles cruise. She needed to move forward, forget what happened at home. This man was gorgeous. Mandy would kill her if she missed this opportunity. “Please, stay,” she said. “Have dinner with me?” Anna couldn’t believe she was so bold.

  Ryan appeared surprised.

  “Are you sure?” He smiled, sending her pulse racing.

  “Absolutely,” she said. “I want to have dinner before the contest tonight,” she added.

  He nodded. “Ah, the dancing contest.”

  “Yes, b
ut I’m only an observer. I’m not much of a dancer,” she said, wanting to make it clear that in no way would she participate.

  “Me, too,” he agreed. “Though my daughter is an excellent dancer.”

  “You have a daughter?” she asked, relief flooding through her.

  He swallowed, clearing his throat. “She’s thirteen. Need I say more? But she is the love of my life.”

  The tenderness in his words found their way straight to her heart. “I understand completely. I have a daughter, too.” She didn’t want to give out too many details about herself yet, as he was a stranger, no matter that she’d just invited him to sit at her table and have dinner with her. But she felt safe with dozens of people running around the dining room.

  “Then we have two things in common.”

  She raised her brows in question. “Lubbock and single parenting?”

  He nodded in agreement. “It has its moments, I have to say. I have a son as well. He just graduated from high school. I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s just me and Renée in the house all by ourselves.”

  Anna could’ve interpreted his words a dozen ways but chose not to. “I don’t even want to think about that yet. My daughter starts high school this year. I’ve been dreading it, though I shouldn’t. She’s a great girl.” She missed her daughter at that moment and made a mental note not to forget to call her later.

  “Patrick, that’s my son, is a bit shy, which made high school a bit tough for him at times, but he did manage to graduate,” Ryan said, in an offhanded way.

  Before she had a chance to reply, their waiter came to the table. “Good evening, I’m Donal, and it will be my pleasure to take care of your dining needs during the cruise.” A short man, maybe in his mid-fifties, with an unmistakable Irish accent, stood by their table. He had the reddish brown hair to match her image of an Irishman. Anna thought he had kind eyes.

  “I’m Anna,” she introduced herself, and held out her hand, not sure if this was appropriate etiquette for the staff, but manners were important to her, no matter the setting. She was a true Southerner, and these minute details were a part of her. Donal took her hand, brought it to his mouth, and gave it a light, friendly kiss. She blushed, then grinned. Apparently, he was a true Irishman. “And a beautiful lass, too.” He winked.