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"I'm glad you aren't." She grinned, her natural enthusiasm coming to the fore. "I'm surprised you didn't just plan for us to visit one of your company headquarters outside Europe."
"You wanted to go on a cruise. To Mexico." And he wanted to see her eyes light up the way they had when he told her about their trip.
"So, you got in touch with one of your Greek tycoon friends who just happens to own a luxury cruise line?"
"Ariston is more a business associate than a friend." Lysander didn't have friends. He had family, some of whom he would happily live without.
His father. His brother.
One he cared deeply about. His mother. Others he considered important because his mother did. Her relatives.
But friends? No.
"Are we traveling under assumed names?" Rowan's voice was laced with excitement.
He chuckled. "Nothing so mysterious. I'm sorry, but I don't have a fake passport for you, or any super spy gadgets."
She gave him a moue of regret. "It is a little disappointing."
"I'll make up for it," he promised.
"You can start back there." She tilted her head toward the bedroom in the back of the plane.
Arousal whooshed through him in a heated wave. "Yes, let's test the firmness of the bed."
"If it's anything like your bed at the villa, I'm sure it's as firm as can be."
"Are you saying my bed at home is too hard for you?"
"Nothing about you istoohard," she teased in a low, sultry voice. "Your hardness is just right."
Then she jumped up and rushed to the back of the plane, her laughter trailing behind her.
Cheeky minx.
He would show her just how hard she made him and he could only hope the bed would withstand his efforts.
~ ~ ~
There were three cruise ships docked when Rowan and Lysander reached the harbor. The one owned by Ariston Spiridakou gleamed pristinely white in the sunshine. It wasn't quite as large as the other two ships and she just knew that meant it was because fewer guests were accommodated, not because it lacked any amenity.
Fizzing with excitement, she clutched her hold all on one side of her body and Lysander's hand on the other. "I can't believe you made this happen. Thank you, Sander."
"My pleasure." He laced their fingers and pulled her close as they walked toward the ship.
No passport or check-in lines for men like Lysander Baros. Their security detail surrounded them and handed over all necessary documents to ship personal.
"Where are all of the other passengers?" she asked the purser, who was personally escorting them to their cabin.
"General boarding does not begin for three hours."
Of course.
He ushered them through a door markedcruise personnel. It led to a surprisingly well appointed corridor with an elevator in the center.
"This is your personal elevator," the purser explained. "It is accessible via doors in the same position on every deck and requires your keycard and thumbprint to call."
It sounded like excessive security measures to reach their cabin, but this was the world of a billionaire. The purser left them at the elevator after scanning both their thumbprints and giving them each a keycard with their pictures on them.
