Jeremy’s smile broadened as his gaze passed over her head.
Maybe in another life. But
damn
those dimples were
hawt
.
“I’m guessing that’s him?”
Felicity turned to follow Jeremy’s line of sight and understood immediately whom he’d
pinned as Cashypants. The man had his back to them, but she could still almost taste
the aura of wealth he projected. Maybe it was the way his inky dark hair was so shiny,
slicked down, and the back of his neck neatly clipped. Or maybe it was the way he
held himself, tall, his broad shoulders back, encased in a relaxed white linen shirt.
The way he stood said he was comfortable in his body, confident, and strong. That
all came from money and power. Not exactly her malleable aging millionaire.
Damn.
Felicity straightened and walked over to him.
“Mr. Cashy… Mr. McCashin?” Felicity put up a hand to touch him politely on the shoulder.
The flash she felt through her fingertips was enough to make her step back and ball
her hand into a fist. Who knew linen gave off static electricity like that?
“Yes.” He turned as if bitten.
Felicity fought the urge to put her fingers in her mouth to try to stop the burning.
“I was told to wait for…are you all right?” The deep rumble of his voice did nothing
to calm Felicity’s jangling nerves, which felt as if they’d been pulled through her
skin.
“I’m fine. Thank you. You’re Mr. McCashin?” she forced out, feeling about as fine
as a seasick passenger on a stormy ocean crossing.
“Yes. Richard. Richard McCashin.” He put out his hand and Felicity regarded it cautiously.
When the pause stretched just a moment too long he smiled wanly. “You seem nervous.”
Felicity shook her head.
Charm, lady. Charm, remember.
“No, sorry. I was just in a rush to make sure I met you on time. My apologies.” She
pushed her hand firmly into his before pumping up and down. Only a dull tingle. She
exhaled.
See? Static electricity only strikes once.
“I don’t imagine I’m exactly what you had planned for your day.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” she said easily. But he was anything but easy. If anyone had
asked, she’d have said Mr. Richard McCashin was a bundle of nerves himself.
Must be why I reacted like that. He’s contagious.
As if he read her mind, his gaze hardened, and if she hadn’t known it was impossible,
she’d have sworn he switched on his optional X-ray vision. “So, you’re my tour guide.
Did you volunteer for the job?”
Volunteer? For a Captain A-hole task? Was he crazy?
Maybe he just hadn’t met the captain in person yet.
Still. Wit and charm wins the day, etcetera.
“Oh I’m a regular volunteer, me. The captain wants mermaids, I’m the first with my
hand up.”
He laughed and quickly stifled it.
Weird.
But his laugh brought her nerve endings right back to the surface. She tried not
to show that her insides had just ignited into a blaze bigger than an Australian bush
fire.
What is wrong with you?
Deep and rumbling and warm, the laugh was familiar and new all at once, but still.
Not something that should be making you react like this.
“Well, here’s hoping you volunteered for the right reasons,” he said.
Double weird.
“Right,” she managed, forcing a bright Adventurer Cruises smile onto her face. “I’ll
be taking care of you today anyway, so I hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything
you’d especially like to do?”
He regarded her with a raised eyebrow and she waited for him to say something. Anything.
“A tour would be a good start. And perhaps some cheerful company for lunch,” he said
finally.
“No problem. Top deck first?” She practically started to run toward the stairs, then
slowed her pace.
He’s a passenger. He’s not exactly going to jump you. No danger there.
But her sharp stop-start must have thrown him as he walked into her, pitching her
off-balance. She stumbled, turning to her VIP and gripping him at the waist to stop
herself from crashing into the railing.
“Easy, tiger.”
“I didn’t…I’m so sorry,” she said as she regained her balance, letting go of the trim
waist and noticing the bulge of biceps strain at his shirt while he held her. This
time touching Richard McCashin hadn’t shocked her as much as the first connection,
but there was a dull buzz in her hands even while she dropped them to her sides. And
his scent, something citrusy, clung to her.
Holy Batman, lady, get a grip. You’ll end up wound tight as a kitten in a yarn store
if you don’t settle down. This is a passenger. A VIP passenger. You don’t know him.
You don’t need to know him. You feel nothing for him.
She took a deep breath and looked out at the island vista in the distance.
Keep your mind bright and clear as the vast sky, the great ocean, and the highest
peak. Empty yourself of all thoughts. You are light.
The phrase calmed her, as it always did. It was a saying her parents had often used
and, unlike much of her recent past, was something that remained with her, allowing
her to steady herself in even the roughest emotional seas.
“Ms. Williams? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or perhaps just something you’d
rather forget.”
Felicity turned to him and gave a tranquil smile. She only had to be with him today,
and then he would merge in with the rest of the passengers on board. Random flashes
of whatever it was that he was giving off didn’t need to interfere with her job.
“
I’m so sorry again. You’d think my sea legs would be sorted by now, wouldn’t you?”
She turned her smile up a notch, going for full-beam PR maven. If the captain wanted
her to charm Richard McCashin, charmed he would well and truly be.
Yesss. Success
. The smile Cashypants returned didn’t exactly soften his slick appearance, but there
was a glimmer of warmth in it. She’d take a glimmer over a glower any day.
“I thought it was going to be me staggering all over the place. I’m not used to being
on board. How long have you been with the company?” he said.
Still got it, girl, now just do your job.
They walked side by side up the stairs to the top deck. “I started about four months
ago. It’s a wonderful company to work for.”
He stroked his chin. “Not long, then. Where were you before?”
You have your answer for this one. It’s no big deal.
Yet she hesitated before she gave her standard answer. For some reason, fobbing Cashypants
off with a half truth felt wrong. “I was in finance. Thought it was time for a bit
of adventure. A girl doesn’t like to get boring.”
“Oh? I wouldn’t have picked you for boring. Not even tied to a desk.”
Tied to a desk? Sheesh.
The image popped unbidden into her mind’s eye.
You are bright and clear as the ocean. You are light.
She nodded and pretended a chuckle, forcing the image away.
This time the smile seemed more genuine. It widened his chocolate-colored eyes and
lit them with a hint of honey around the edges. Felicity couldn’t help her own mouth
twitching in reply. Maybe it was the combination of his slicked-back hair and perfectly
smooth skin, or maybe it was the way his jaw was square and firm, and had a muscle
flicker that promised he was giving you full attention, but Mr. Richard McCashin definitely
looked like someone used to getting his own way. There was method in his mannerisms,
though; she’d bet her last tequila he only pulled out that charm to smooth the process.
His smile had just as much shark as it did charm.
Watch your big mouth, Felicity, and you’ll be fine. Best smiles on.
“I’m plenty boring, really. The head purser role fills my days for sure.”
Thank the Lord.
As they reached the railings of the top deck, Cashypants diverted his attention to
the vista of the glittering South Pacific. They’d left harbor forty minutes ago and
now the outlying islands, in brilliant green, stood out like jewels against the shimmering
blue of the ocean.
“I think this is my favorite view,” she said.
He turned to her. “You like it here, then?” His voice was gentler, soft, and Felicity
wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.
“What’s not to like? World behind us, clear waters beneath us, and a view forever.”
He gnawed on a nail, then pulled his hand away from his mouth.
Nail-biter, interesting. Wonder what was making him nervous? Good to know he wasn’t
infallible.
“Don’t you miss land, though? And people? Don’t you have family back home to worry
about you?”
Awfully personal question, Cashypants.
“I was an only child and lost my folks a while back. No one’s worrying about me.
Don’t fret.”
“I’m not the fretting type. I’m sure you won’t keep me up nights.”
Snarky answer. Losing your cool?
“I’m sure you have plenty of others happy to keep you up nights. We have loads of
single female passengers on board. One or two of them will swoon at your dashing good
looks, I’m sure.”
“You think I’m good-looking?”
Damn.
“I didn’t say that. Although I don’t believe you’re naive enough to think you’re
butt-ugly.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You can take it any way you like. As long as it doesn’t get me into trouble.” Why
had she added the last bit? There was no reason to suspect trouble from her VIP. It
wasn’t as if she was going to have to deal with him after today.
Thank God.
Sure, he was as good-looking as a cologne ad, but there was something about him that
didn’t quite add up.
“I can’t promise I won’t bring you trouble, but I’d like to think it was trouble that
was worth having.” His jaw clenched and something dark glittered in his eyes. There
it was again. Shark. There was definitely more to Richard McCashin than money, a hard
jaw, and an intermittent smile.
Watch out, Felicity. This one is definitely a Brendon.
Maybe someone the old Felicity might have been into, but not anyone the
new
her should be toying with. “You want to stay up here any longer or shall we move
on?”
“You’re in charge.” He waved a hand to let her take the lead.
Bet your life I’m in charge.
In charge of every last detail of my own life.
No man’s going to take that away from me ever again.
“Although I guess technically the captain is in charge.” His comment came out a drawl.
Casual, cool, but she could tell he was pushing at her. The question was, why?
“Don’t imagine jumping to the captain’s commands can be all that fun,” he continued.
“I’m not a big fan of taking orders either. Or being given the runaround.”
Now it was Felicity’s turn to frown. Was that a touch of a threat in his tone? “Good
to know.”
“You don’t look very pleased at being beholden to someone else. I take it you’re more
used to working for yourself? Or perhaps at least managing other people?”
Felicity straightened. “I’m not sure that’s really what I’d call it.”
“And what would you call it?”
This time the shark had his teeth fully bared, fins sharpened, and he was heading
right for her—ready, if she wasn’t mistaken, to take a bite.
What’s his problem?
“I’m not sure I’d call it anything. Except ancient history.” She took a breath.
You are light. He doesn’t have any effect on you. Calm, tranquility is yours.
“I think we should head to the pool next.”
She set off without waiting for him, but felt him at her back. Rubbing her forehead
she sought a memory, any memory, that might place Richard McCashin. Nothing. And surely
if he knew her, he’d just come right out and say it?
Whatever.
Trouble was, it wasn’t
whatever
. From his static electricity handshakes to his intense probing, Richard McCashin
was
not
your usual VIP, and her body was not responding with cool indifference.
It’s just because you haven’t let yourself
get any
since the accident.
Actually, by the look of her San Fran apartment, her love life had been a barren
wasteland a lot longer than that. The neatly made bed, bare fridge, and work-covered
desk all added up to one big pile of empty. Hadn’t she left all that to get her happy
back on? Maybe she needed a quick fling so she could concentrate again.
No. You turned down Double Dimple Jeremy for a good reason. Get a grip, girl.
All she needed was a little distance from those chocolate eyes. And the firm jaw.
And the broad shoulders. All she needed was to do her job with as little sparkle as
possible. If Cashypants was going to keep probing into her past, into her thoughts,
she was going to give it to him straight, and that would get her in trouble with the
captain. A little charm would help the medicine go down, of course, but this was going
to get tedious real quick if she had to bite her tongue on every second word. And
it was going to get unprofessional even quicker if she couldn’t keep thoughts of running
her hands through his thick dark hair out of her head.
Chapter Three
“I was thinking we could have the chef’s special seafood platter,” Felicity offered.
“You like seafood?” Rick said. He tried to conceal his astonishment, but she’d taken
him by surprise. The Felicity he’d known had been a strict vegetarian. No meat, no
fish, nothing with eyes, as she’d put it. Rick dropped his gaze fast. Was she just
playing along with him being Richard McCashin? He needed more time to work out if
she was genuine, or if there were going to be more surprises. No point revealing his
hand until he knew what he was dealing with.
“Sure. I mean, only good seafood. I don’t go in for dolphin-flavored canned tuna if
that’s what you mean.” She paused. “Sorry, are you vegetarian? The captain didn’t
say—”
“No, no.” He hesitated. “I just wondered about you. So many women I know seem to be
vegetarian these days, and with a figure like yours I thought, maybe…”
Was that a blush?
“Right. Well, I’m not. So if that’s okay, best make use of your VIP status, don’t
you think?”
“Definitely.” He quashed the frown before it was completely formed. She’d tried to
be flippant about the VIP status but there was a vein of disdain in her tone. High
status was certainly something the Felicity he knew wouldn’t have been contemptuous
of. Maybe the knock to the head had stolen more than just her memories. Maybe the
woman in front of him had different priorities as well. Rick sneaked another look
at her. Too soon to tell.
She summoned the young Filipina waitress in one of the ship’s sprawling restaurants
and he watched the easy way she had with the young woman.
The day had been pleasant enough. Strolling the upper deck, he’d watched Felicity’s
face for any twitch of Novotech-related deceit until she’d escorted him to the pool,
set him up with a cocktail, and tried to turn the tables by asking him about his business.
Luckily, or unluckily, one of her admin minions had begged her away on some paperwork
errand for a couple of hours and he hadn’t had to answer.
Are you going to lie?
It was a question he’d been mulling over since he got on the plane to Port Vila.
He still hadn’t come up with an answer. Truth was, he’d expected her to recognize
him and either run a mile or cut him dead straightaway. Instead, her fudged comment
about working in finance before she came on board hadn’t given him anything to work
with.
Could it be possible that she didn’t recognize him at all? Even if she did have full-blown
retrograde amnesia, wouldn’t she have seen a picture of him at work or at home, or
been taken to see him while he was unconscious in the hospital? Something, anything,
so that his would at least be a familiar face to her? Rick thought through their times
together. They’d taken a few photos of some of the places they’d traveled to, but
never with the two of them together. Felicity liked to take pictures of places, not
people, and even if she had taken a photo of him, he knew she didn’t have it up in
her work-strewn apartment. He’d noticed that when he’d once picked her up.
He avoided having images of himself at work or in the public eye, since biotech didn’t
win many awards for popularity, so that was out. In the hospital, then? He’d been
unconscious for just under five weeks and she’d been released less than a week after
they’d been brought in. He would have still been in the ICU then. A restricted area.
No viewing for her there, then. So maybe…?
He sat back in his chair and inspected Felicity’s face as she spoke. The sensation
of his heart racing when he first saw her was still with him. Like a snare drum playing
some sort of scat beat, his heart had sent his blood charging through him and his
head had filled with a mixture of suspicion, rage, affection, and sorrow. His hands
had tightened as he fought to keep them at his sides instead of pulling her to him
and then shaking the truth out of her. How could she just carry on like this? Pretending
nothing was different, that she belonged here, on a cruise ship, wasting her incredible
brain on menial paperwork.
There must be more to it. Maybe another man?
The idea had crossed his mind before but he’d dismissed it. Now, though, it reared
itself up in all its ugly green-eyed glory. It was time for some answers. “So is the
nightlife on board good?”
“Oh, I’m usually pretty tired nights. I try to make sure our
passengers’
needs are taken care of well before the sun goes down.”
Interesting emphasis.
“But that can’t always be easy. What if someone needs personal assistance? Is there
anyone waiting patiently back in your cabin?”
“Relationships at sea are pretty tough. I mean, if it all goes west, there’s not exactly
anywhere to escape to. Trust me.”
“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”
Was that a slight hesitation?
“No, no. I’ve just watched from the sidelines and had to pick up the pieces more
than once. A good friend of mine, Michaela, almost lost her job over a misunderstanding
with a passenger. According to our contracts, ‘just say no’ is the only option as
far as passenger relations go. And, honestly, onboard romance so often ends in tears,
I don’t know why people bother.”
“Is that right?” So maybe she didn’t have a boyfriend. Rick was surprised at the release
of tension
that
piece of news delivered.
Stupid ego, could just be another line.
The whole thing could still be a line. But so far he hadn’t been able to find any
cracks in the facade if it was built of lies. In fact, if the woman in front of him
hadn’t looked and sounded exactly like Felicity, he would have wondered if his PI
had gotten it wrong again. This Felicity had plenty that was different from the one
he’d asked to be his wife five months ago, not least of which was her free and easy
way with humor. It kind of suited her, he decided begrudgingly, even as it threw him
off-balance.
“If it’s not the nightlife, must be the job that keeps you here. I can’t believe it’s
all as mundane as you make out. What’s your usual day like?”
“Oh, you know, get up before it’s decent, wade through the mountain of payroll for
six hundred staff, check everyone’s visas and work permits, sort the accounts for
the whole ship. Do you know how much yogurt you lot get through?”
Rick couldn’t help the laugh. “Yogurt?”
“Oh my God, yes. You wouldn’t believe it. The accounts from the kitchen are just incredible.
So much food and from the most random places. Boring, I know, but that sort of number-crunching
is good for putting things in perspective.”
That was more like it. “How so?”
“Oh, you know, the infallibility of man. We like to think we’re a teeny bit invincible,
but when we run out of yogurt, watch out.”
“I’m not sure that really rates as sage and true philosophy.”
Felicity put a finger to her lips. “Maybe not to you, but then you don’t really strike
me as the philosophical type.”
“Oh really? And what sort of type do I strike you as?” Rick leaned forward, feeling
his eyes narrow even as he tried to keep a straight face.
She looked carefully at him for a good ten seconds and his pulse increased. This was
it. Surely. Surely she couldn’t keep this up any longer.
“I’d say you’re driven. Focused, intensely focused. And let’s be honest. You’re loaded.”
The flippancy of her last comment diluted the tension her other observations generated.
“So I’m focused. What on?”
“Let me see.” She looked at him again. “Adventure tourism? No, that would explain
the interest in the cruise ship, but wouldn’t make you loaded enough. Ooh, pharmaceuticals
maybe?”
Too close to be a guess. Way too close.
“Pharmaceuticals? What makes you say that?”
She shrugged. “Isn’t there plenty of money in aspirin these days?”
“One chef’s special seafood platter.” The waitress placed it between them, and Rick
scowled at her timing.
“I thought you were happy with the platter? We can change it if you like, might take
a while. But it’s not her fault,” Felicity scolded him after the younger woman left.
“I never said anything was
her
fault.” Rick kept his tone as light as he could make it.
Just tell her about your history together. Ask her outright what the hell she’s doing.
“You looked about ready to lock her in her cabin with bread and water rations. Maybe
I missed one of your attributes,” Felicity said. “You’re driven, focused, but hate
women?”
Rick snorted. “Hate is a pretty strong word.”
“Don’t trust us, then?”
Too bloody right.
“Who would? It’s all
I love you
, until something better comes along and then you’re off.” Rick would have stuck his
hand in his mouth to get his foot out if it wouldn’t have made things worse.
What’s wrong with you? You still don’t know the full story about Novotech. Chill.
“Phew. Lucky we decided to not talk about anything personal.”
Goddamn her for being so smart and—he looked for the word—sassy. It was as if she
saw through him and refused to be put on the spot. This was not the Felicity he knew.
Rick felt his shoulders hunching. Maybe she’d been playing him all along. Maybe
this
was the real her and the woman he’d worked with, dated, and bedded was her colder
secret twin.
Good one.
“Any reason I should trust
you
in particular?”
“Probably not.” Felicity leaned forward and pulled half a lobster tail onto her plate.
“I’d be very wary of me. If you’re not careful I’ll eat all this and you’ll have to
go crying to the captain.”
Damn.
She almost made him smile again. This was not going to plan at all. If he wanted
to unravel this as quickly and cleanly as possible, he needed to be completely in
control.
Rick stopped talking and focused on the food. She was too good. If he told her flat-out
who he was, who
they
were, she could either deny it outright or make some joke of it before she scrambled
off to sell her soul to his competitors. At least at the moment she was contained
in the middle of the Pacific with nowhere to go. Contained and—if that ass of a captain
was as good as his word—at Rick’s beck and call for as long as he wanted.
She looked at him and shrugged before tucking into her lobster.
Then there was the possibility that she really
did
have amnesia. There really wasn’t an ounce of complicity in her face that Rick could
detect. The more time he spent with her, the more he had to admit that maybe the reports
of her memory loss weren’t a ruse. And the more he had to admit that her quick tongue
added something even more enticing to the package her curves and sparkling eyes had
always created.
“You’ll have a good time tomorrow, at least. All the passengers are going to Tabween
Island, and you’ll be able to take your pick of the lonely hearts. Got any good pickup
lines?”
Maybe something slightly more direct.
“Have we met before?”
“That’s not very original.”
“No, I’m asking
you
. Have we met before?”
She smirked. “You know you’re supposed to use that one when you first meet a girl,
right? I don’t think it works as well when you’ve spent the day with her, growling
at pretty much everything that moves.”
Epic fail.
No blush, her pupils didn’t dilate an iota, no reaction at all. To this Felicity,
he really was a stranger. So maybe this wasn’t an act. Rick listened as politely as
he could while she told him about Tabween Island, but as she spoke the flicker of
an idea tugged at him.
If this wasn’t an act, and Felicity really did have amnesia, maybe he could jolt her
enough to get a few memories back. He’d read something about a burst of adrenaline
helping amnesia sufferers. All he needed was the glimmer of a memory so he could explain
who he was, who
they
were, and she could sign over the shares in the patent, finalize the investment deal,
and start planning their wedding. Putting her in survival mode might just do it. Maybe
a little time to reflect, a little danger, a little
quality
time with him and she’d start unraveling. She’d always loved the outdoors. Tabween
Island was about as remote as it was possible to get. Perhaps she could play Brooke
Shields in his own private
Blue Lagoon
.
Rick gave his head a small shake at his own nostalgia. His priorities had to be about
getting her to sign over the shares in the patent before he started thinking about
rectifying a relationship that might already be dust. But it wasn’t as if they hadn’t
enjoyed a great time in the bedroom. Rick smiled. Seclusion, survival, and a good
dose of seduction. If there was anything that was going to get Felicity to remember
or at least hear him out when he revealed his reason for being there, that was going
to do it.
A quick word with the captain and plan B would be sorted.
…
As she fell onto her bed, full of seafood and with aching jaw muscles from the effort
of too much fake smiling, Felicity’s cell buzzed. “No way.” She flicked it open. “Really?
Already?”
Michaela’s voice was crackly but damn, Felicity was glad to hear it. “Really. Three
weeks early. He’s a week old now. I tried you a couple of days ago but you were out
of range and I wanted to tell you properly.”
Felicity had made Michaela promise to call when she had her first baby. “You have
no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”
“Same goes. It’s good just to talk to another grown-up for a change.”
“Whatever. Is it amazing?”
Michaela sighed and Felicity heard her contentment. Who would have thought the committed
career girl would go mushy over a little baby? “It’s amazing. And mental. And horrible.
God, don’t ask me about getting him out, that is just all sorts of ouch.”