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His team was second to none, and Will trusted their judgement implicitly. He’d built up a solid working relationship with all the managers, and Will knew that when they said the ship was good to go, he could rely on them and the crew. This time they’d also had a visit from the police, who were working with border control to piece together how the drugs got on board and who knew about it. Thankfully, that was the easiest part of the day; their electronic records and passenger manifests more than enough to facilitate the police investigation.
Aside from the hectic first day of each cruise, Will loved his job, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. How could he not love the majesty of sailing through deep oceans to paradise? They were only a small cruise ship—the smallest in the Dream Liner fleet—but he’d worked hard to ensure the ship was the best of the best. Their guests were young, fun, and energetic, and their staff showed them how to have a great time. The ship had the best reviews around, and the revamp of food and entertainment services would up the ante even more.
But at that moment, the only thing on Will’s mind was getting the hot shower he desperately needed to wake the hell up. He flicked the tap on, but it shuddered and spluttered before water gushed out the wall. The showerhead above remained stubbornly dry. He sighed. Whatever was wrong with it was not going to fix itself.
He turned the tap off and, still naked, made his way through the luxurious suite to the phone on the desk. Dialling maintenance, Will waited for them to pick up. He had half an hour before he needed to be on deck, and in that time, he had to shower, shave, and eat breakfast—one that came with a strong cup of coffee. Early morning start times were horrendous but necessary. Although they were beginning a day at sea, day three of the cruise would see them port in Noumea at oh-six hundred, so if Will wanted a break between shifts, he needed to start this one now.
Two rings, and Eli, the maintenance manager, picked up. “Good morning, Captain Preston. How may I help you?”
“Hello, Eli. My shower is leaking at the wall. Nothing’s coming out of the head.”
“I will have someone come over immediately, sir.” There was a groan and a hiss from the attached bathroom. Eyebrows furrowed together, he stepped closer to the noise, craning his neck to try and see inside the smaller room.
“You’d better make it qu—” Will’s words were cut off by the crash and sound of water gushing.
“Sir, are you all right?” Eli called through the telephone, concern in his voice. Will dashed through his suite to the bathroom only to see water was rushing from the point where the tap was formerly mounted. Instead of being joined to the wall, the piece of chromed metal was lying on the floor. A crack pierced the wall of the shower, leaving a hole gouged into it. Water gushed into the crack and overflowed out of the stall onto the tiled floor and carpet of the bedroom he was standing in.
“Shit,” he muttered, snagging the towel set on the vanity and balancing the cordless phone between his shoulder and ear as he wrapped it around him. “Eli, I need someone over here now. It’s overflowing everywhere. And can you please find me somewhere I can shower?” Will hung up, his lack of caffeine and the rude awakening making him a hell of a lot grumpier than he normally was, even in the morning. All he wanted was to get ready and have a coffee, but apparently, it wasn’t the day for things to happen the easy way.
He slipped on a pair of cargo shorts and a fitted white polo with the ship’s emblem on it before donning his thongs. Tossing all his toiletries and the towel into a bag, he hung them with his dry-cleaned uniform and hat on the hook, ready to head out.
His telephone rang just as he was zipping his bag. It was housekeeping. “Hello, sir, Eli called me to arrange an alternative place for you to shower and change.” Will’s staff were top-notch and knew the key to wonderful service was to be prompt and, although polite, to the point. He certainly wasn’t a bastard, not even crabby most of the time—especially when they were on their way to paradise—but they knew he was on schedule. She didn’t bother waiting for Will to respond before continuing. “All the executive suites are occupied, as are the remaining rooms in the staff and crew quarters. All the guest suites are also occupied. Unfortunately, the only place I can send you with a little privacy at this time of night are the entertainers’ change rooms on the theatre level.”
“Thank you, I’ll head there now.”
*****
He walked through the dimmed staff-only halls to the opposite end of the ship near the back entrance of the theatre. The show had finished hours ago, so both the staff and guests had long ago left. Most of the entertainers had either moved to the nightclubs or bars to continue their shifts or had finished up for the night.
The artwork hanging at the intersection of the two hallways made the corridor look like it terminated with a dead end. It was striking and held his attention as he neared it. While the guest corridors had modern interpretations of the masters, the staff-only walkways were filled with photographs of performers from dancers and singers to fire breathers and acrobats. Each image was different—black and white, splashes of bright colour, dark and brooding or filled with laughter. It was pure coincidence, but the framed picture of the ballet dancer that Will had carried with him halfway around the world and now hung in his stateroom was the perfect match to those mounted along the hallways he was currently walking down.
Will swiped his card to gain access to the room at the end of the corridor. The door slid silently open and closed behind him with a whoosh, but any sound would have been drowned out by the deep bass from the sound system reverberating through the studio. Will closed his eyes and let the temptation in Bruno Mars’s voice wind seductively around him. The song “Gorilla” made Will want to get hot and heavy, experience desire again. Raw and hypnotic, the song was pure sex.
Curiosity piqued, Will stepped silently through the neatly organized props and into the warm-up room.
His breath caught.
The room as a whole was dim, shadows still dancing in the corners from the stark spotlights pointed at the pole affixed in its centre. A man, if that entirely inadequate description of his perfection could possibly suffice, spun on it. He held his body weight perpendicular to the pole, his arms outstretched and his legs in a split. His toes were pointed, touching the pole on either side of his strong grip. Letting one arm drop, he rolled like he was going to hit the floor, and Will couldn’t help reaching out for him. The speed he moved with was death-defying, but his muscles strained, and it was obvious he was in complete control.
Catching himself at the last moment with a hand to the floor, the man twisted his hips, moving from a side split to a forward one. Toes still pointed, he paused, holding himself there.
Will was spellbound, his feet fixed to the floor, frozen in a trance.
The subject of his fascination dropped down and rolled up to standing, his back bending at an angle Will had no idea was even possible. With one hand still on the pole, he froze, looking at the shadows where Will was still watching. He reached into the back of his training tights, and the music cut off. “Who’s there?” he asked cautiously, his British accent lilting.
“I-I am,” Will stuttered, transfixed by the greenest of green eyes he’d ever seen, rimmed with black eyeliner. Lust shot through Will, and his dick thickened, hardening from the sight of the beautiful creature in front of him.
The desire to drop to his knees, strip the man out of those sexy as sin tights, and lick every inch of his lean frame assailed Will. He wanted to worship the stranger, to touch and tempt him, to taste him. Need shot through Will like a lightning bolt, waking up parts that he restrained when working, like a dog on a tight leash. Will didn’t date when he was on the ocean. He didn’t fuck around, made sure he didn’t even take a second look at another staff member, and certainly not a passenger, but this man made him want to throw caution to the wind.
Just the sight of the beautiful dancer had Will’s palms sweating and his heart thundering. He itched to touch him, want and need warring for domination.
All before Will even knew his name.
The man ran his fingers through his hair, wiping away the sheen of sweat on his brow, and stepped forward. “You wanna step into the light so I can see you, rather than standing in the dark like a creeper?”
Will smiled, the guy’s spunky attitude making him even sexier. Even though it was expected and necessary to ensure the ship ran smoothly, the problem with being the captain was that the staff and crew did exactly what he asked, usually without question. So, having this man, this hottie, speak to Will like he would any other person was refreshing.
The man, Will’s wet dream come true, took a step forward, and Will was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He mirrored the other man’s actions until Will stood in the light. Their eyes locked, and they moved closer together.
