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“And I bet it was him that snared you, wasn’t it? The toad, trying to look squeaky clean.” Felicity switched from triumphant sex-gossip to compassionate friend in a heartbeat. “What’s he trying to prove, that he’s hot enough to score the cruise director for starters and then have dessert of those dancing twins? Just wait until I get hold of him.”
Despite the relief it gave her to hear Felicity pour scorn onto the men who were making her life a misery, Michaela was still floundering. “What am I going to do?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find out what really happened.”
Just then, the phone rang. The women looked at each other. “You expecting more news?” Felicity asked.
Michaela shook her head. “Try and make them go away,” she whispered.
Felicity picked up the receiver, then immediately covered it. “It’s bloody him!”
“The captain?”
“No, Dylan.”
Michaela flapped her hand at the phone, dismissing the idea of talking to Dylan. Not now. Not ever.
Felicity didn’t give him a chance to get going. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? Why don’t you just get lost? Leave her alone.” She paused. “Why should she believe anything you say? No, wait. Don’t bother to answer. I can’t even trust you to breathe with honesty.” She hung up with a flourish, indignation written large on her face. “Don’t worry, sweets,” she said, patting Michaela’s arm. “This will all get sorted out.”
The phone rang again.
“Hello?” Felicity listened a second, then covered the receiver. “Captain’s assistant,” she whispered. “The captain wants to see you on the bridge.”
“Okay, I’ll be fifteen minutes.”
“Fine.” Felicity relayed the message and hung up the phone. Michaela groaned again. The ceiling she had stared at only hours earlier now seemed like a different dimension, as if she could fall forward into an abyss. Was there going to be more humiliation?
She blinked until the ceiling flattened and became a ceiling again. She wished she could lay her emotions out flat so she could climb over them rather than have them tangling her legs. “I’ve got to go. Wish me luck,” she said to Felicity, and set off for the bridge with a heavy heart.
…
“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?
