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7
Chapter Seven
Rylee couldn’t believe her ears. The man had a stowaway kitten in his cabin. What the hell? She’d listened to him bribing Carlos, who happened to be Carl Martinez, one of theirs, an agent put in place for Jake Andrew’s protection.
Earlier, Carl had installed listening devices in most of Jake’s rooms, and she’d spent the last while listening in, making sure of his safety.
Carl had texted her photos of the flowers and what had been written on the card, which caused a sneering reaction. Crazy women falling for a man so hard, they lost all decency, and their brains turn to congealed mush.
She’d never, ever let a mere male turn her into a slathering fool to his dominance. She’d rather just shoot herself first.
Not long after she got the text, she listened in to Jake’s interaction with his steward. Perplexed by his behavior, unwilling to grant him even a smidgeon of benefit for protecting the feline he’d inherited, she hardened her heart.
Sadly, since she loved cats and had had to take her beloved old Boo to the vets to have him operated on, then after days of fretting, she’d lost him, Rylee listened to the mewing, and her heart melted. Until she heard the yowl and Jake’s reaction to what sounded like an attack.
Heart sore, expecting the worst, she tried to figure out a way she could step in and save the poor kitty. Shocked to find that the man held it no ill will and was willing to spend money to keep it safe, she was still skeptical.
She didn’t know anyone, especially a man, who would put himself out for the sake of a cat. Slowly, as she listened to his further interaction with his furry stowaway, unwanted fissures began forcing apart the barriers around her heart.
She heard his encouraging sounds while feeding the baby and the words he spoke to him. “Okay, mister, here’s a nice fluffy towel all folded up for you to snooze on and a bowl of water. Don’t get into any mischief while I’m gone. And understand this, the newspaper’s your toilet. No more peeing on the floor bullshit. Got it?”
Rylee ended up giggling along with the snort she heard Jake make in reaction to the kitten’s ornery sounding meowed agreement to the orders.
Once she heard Jake’s door close, she quickly checked her dress, a little black number she couldn’t resist because of the cowl neckline that was just low enough to be sexy, but not bad enough to scream slut. She added the stilt-like shoes with rhinestones around the heels. With her hair still in the upsweep and her newly applied make-up looking respectable, she left her smaller suite so she could either bump into him in the long hallway as he made his way to the elevator… or on the elevator.
Of course, she should have known the jerk would take the stairs, and she’d be struggling with the killer heels to keep up. Blasted damn shoes! Only a man could invent such torturous devices, and then make the gullible female gender believe they were more desirable when they wore them.
Hanging on to the copper-plated handrails, she carefully negotiated from floor to floor until she found the main dining room for their end of the ship.
She didn’t see him in the lineup of folks waiting to be seated and excusing herself, stating she was meeting someone who’d already arrived, she wandered the huge, crystal filled area, where hundreds of well-dressed people were partaking of their meals.
Flinching at the noise levels to where one couldn’t speak low and be heard, she felt her reticence kick in. She hated crowds and even worse, she hated them when they were noisy. But at least these folks were making happy sounds, and so she shook off her normal instinct to get the hell out of there and moved further into the large room.
Strategically placed oriental-like ferns in tall gold-designed pots for privacy were scattered throughout the gigantic area. White-uniformed waiters, wine stewards and busboys busily serving under the watchful eyes of the various maître d’s worked the room. Enticing aromas, that reminded her stomach she hadn’t filled it in many hours, bombarded from every direction.
Strolling between the luxurious tables and beautifully clad diners to see if Jake had been seated at one of the linen-covered tables, she couldn’t help but gasp at the opulence. Ice sculptures displayed near every pillar made one catch their breath and the exquisite lighting that filled the high ceilings and shared the space with gold-covered carvings spoke of elegance from days gone by.
Jake’s choice of staterooms would certainly ensure him getting the red-carpet treatment. Prepped by the purser’s employees who kept track of their important guests, the hostesses would have recognized him instantly, and no doubt, jumped to attention.
Suddenly, Rylee spotted him sitting alone against the far wall, the view of the ocean next to him. Those tables would be reserved for the residents of the penthouse suites, and they’d made sure he’d been seated correctly.
Before she could make contact as per her instructions, she spotted the stalking flower sender, trouble in a size eight slinky red dress. Her long black Chinese hair draped her back to her hips and her small face reminded one of a very high-priced model… or maybe a hooker. This was the woman they had on their watch list as a potential hazard.
Jesus, no matter how they’d tried to disengage her, the predator just wouldn’t give up. Rylee and her team had been on this potentially dangerous lady’s trail for weeks, and she’d slipped through their fingers more than once. Now here she was ready to pounce.
Winding her way to cut off the other’s access to Jake’s table, thankfully his back was to the oncoming potential crisis, Rylee blocked the other woman from moving forward. Linking arms, she forced her hostage to follow or make a scene.
“Maddie! How wonderful to see you again. Come and sit with me so we can catch up. Waiter, can you find us a table for two?”
Madeline Holt, the name of the woman who had been under investigation, tried to pull her arm away, and no doubt, realized quickly that she was a prisoner. Other than starting a full-blown fight scene, she really had no choice but to follow Rylee.
