The Boss and Her Billionaire (7 page)

switch on the intercom.

“Should be a good cruise.” Captain Atkinson was suddenly behind her, and Michaela jumped. What was

with him and Dylan sneaking up on her? The rebuke that had formed on her lips went unsaid. She could

hardly tell the captain off for being here. It was his bridge.

“It’s always a good one,” she said, forcing herself to be chirpy and determined to remain this way for the rest of the cruise.

“Good team by the looks of things. Some of those new recruits are top-notch.”

Michaela looked quickly at the captain, checking to make sure he wasn’t insinuating anything about

Dylan, but he wasn’t even looking at her. Of course he wasn’t insinuating anything.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Her mantra only made her think of Dylan and his thoughtful advice. Why did he have to turn out to be

playing her just like the captain had?The rest of the day was a blur. There were so many things to

organize for the rest of the cruise, and the buzz of excitement that the passengers exuded like a cloud seemed to infect her staff.

The first night’s party set the tone for the rest of the cruise. Michaela kept busy briefing the band, checking with the various ma?tre d’s that the complimentary fruit kebabs would be ready and with the

bar staff that they were primed to serve the night’s special tail.

“Cool, are these new?”

Michaela turned to see Felicity holding up one of the illuminated tail glasses sent over for this trip. “Yes, they light up when you push here. Neat, hey?”

“Guess it makes the cleaner’s job of finding empty glasses a lot easier.”

Michaela smiled. She hadn’t thought of that, but it was a good point.

“Until the batteries run out,” Felicity added as she turned the glass over.

“Oh, no, they’ve got a tiny solar chip.”

“Really? Jeez, how much did they cost?” Felicity’s eyes were wide.

“I don’t know. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Nothing to do with me, that’s a head office expense.” The two women looked at each other. “Head

office” was a ubiquitous concept, usually blamed for anything unexplainable. If passengers complained that their room wasn’t quite what they had ordered and there were no other rooms available, the

standard “I’ll check with head office” was always a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Michaela sometimes felt sorry for the faceless people toiling away in a high rise somewhere in Sydney who were tasked with making sure the scores of Adventurer Cruise ships were organized and well

stocked with passengers. Landing a job at head office had been at the top of her wish list when she’d started out with Adventurer Cruises. The captain had laughed at her when she told him, saying she’d

need to put in at least two years as cruise director before they’d even consider her, and after the fiasco of their relationship she’d put the idea aside.

It’s a powerful job, though. Maybe I could put it back on the list just to show him.

“Head office would definitely be a good career challenge,” she said.

“What?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“You can’t leave me.” Felicity pouted.

“Oh, I’m not, don’t worry. Just dreaming.”She’d been doing too much dreaming lately. Too much by half.

If she really was going to get off this ship in the next couple of months, she needed an impeccable

performance record. Anything less and the captain would have an excuse not to give her the reference

she’d need.

“At least they did an excellent job with their recruitment this time,” Felicity said, pulling Michaela out of her thoughts. “My chocolate man is doing a fine job, and your dancer seems to have the passengers

eating out of his hand.” Felicity pointed to Dylan, who was accompanying a large group of women—a

hen party, Michaela thought with a pang of…jealousy?

The women were fussing over his uniform, sneaking little touches of the simple gold strand that

decorated his lapels and giggling. Unlike in her imagination, Dylan didn’t look harried at all. He took the hand of one woman—the bride-to-be, undoubtedly—and raised it to his lips in mock subservience. Then

he winked at the group and made his excuses before leaving.

The feeling of those hands on her waist washed over Michaela, and the thought of those lips covering

hers sent a shiver of something hot and hurried through her whole body.

For a moment, Michaela was back in Dylan’s arms. They were on the stage, picked out in a spotlight as he whirled her around. There was no awkwardness between them—Michaela could feel the rhythm of

the music rather than having to listen to the beat, and the two of them were in perfect harmony. As the last note of the song hushed away, Dylan pulled her closer, and again his lips hovered over hers…

“Oh.” Michaela let out a small whimper.

“What’s that?”

Felicity was still standing next to her, and Michaela shuddered at the thought of what else she might have said if she’d let her daydream continue any further. That kiss had affected her far more than she wanted to admit. “Nothing,” she said to Felicity.

Yes, nothing. Nothing was going to happen. He wasn’t really a good listener. It had all been an act. “I was just thinking tonight’s party is going to be perfect.”

“Of course it is, darling, you’re in charge.” Felicity gave her a bright grin. “I’m off to check on my team.

They’re probably inundated already with questions about the gratuity system. And anyway, I must check that Mr. Chocolate is coping with all these new pressures. He might need a more experienced hand for

support.” Felicity gave her a wicked wink and swanned away toward the pursers’ station below decks.

Shaking her head to rid it of the last lingering traces of her Dylan memory, Michaela satisfied herself that everything was in order and went back to her office to finalize tomorrow’s roster, double-checking that her staffing requirements matched the activities listed in the paper for passengers. “Perfect,” she said.

And very full. Dylan wouldn’t have a moment to fall for anyone, passenger or staff, because he would be too busy leading activities all over the ship.

She smiled. That would keep him out of her hair.

…

“Did you see him in that first number? Oh my God,” the female passenger said, her eyes opening wide.

“What a god, you mean. So powerful!”

Michaela sighed as she overheard the gushing praise of passengers coming out of the second cabaret

show. She didn’t need to ask who they were talking about.

“If he hadn’t moved, I would have sworn he was marble.”

“Oh yeah, but I bet he wouldn’t feel cool and stony when you had him under your hands!” The women

cackled and continued on upstairs.

Stop it.

She almost said it out loud, and the frustration must have shown on her face, because the next group of passengers took one look at her and gave her a wide berth. At least this was only the first night, so no one really knew who she was yet. She scuttled away before anyone realized. It wouldn’t do for the

cruise director to be seen as a sour mouth.

Up on deck, the lights were on, and the background music was playing. By the look of the people already on the dance floor, this was going to be a very lively crowd.

“Not a bad start,” a deep male voice said from behind her. “Passengers seemed to like the show, and I hardly broke a sweat. I must be fitter than I thought.”

Michaela looked around and found the green eyes of the favorite dancer of every woman on board.

When he said things like that, he sounded like such an arrogant . But the humor in his eyes softened the statement, and she couldn’t take the posturing seriously. Not after that first night on the deck. No man who was all ego would have been such a good listener.

“I should hope you are,” she said. “Can’t have you disappointing all those legions of female fans you’ve accumulated already.”

“Doing my best, ma’am,” Dylan growled, and Michaela felt the deep rumble of his voice in the pit of her stomach. Be still, she scolded her nerves.

“It’s good for the passengers to have something to look at,” she said caustically. “It keeps them

occupied.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “When should we start the dancing for the party?”

“I’ll just check with the band. If they’re ready, then we should probably get going.”

The band was ready, and Michaela headed back to her spot by the bar as the drummer’s sticks kicked in one-two-three-four and a jazzy number filled the outdoor area. She’d only just made it through the

crowd when she heard “Come on then” muttered in her ear and Dylan grabbed her hand, whirling her

into his arms exactly as she had imagined.

To start with, her feet refused to obey her, and she stood on Dylan’s toes. He just grimaced. “Stand up here, then,” he said. She almost squealed as he lifted her up and set her feet down on top of his. “There we go.” Smirking, he whisked her around the floor. She had to work hard not to let on how ragged her

breath was. If he knew the effect he had on her—no, it didn’t even bear thinking about. Letting him

lead, she put on her best smile.

Well, I can’t cause a scene in front of the passengers.

Still, she wouldn’t let him think she was enjoying herself. “Shouldn’t you be toying with your fan club?”

she yelled in his ear, over the sound of the band.

“I don’t like to play with my toys in public.”

Huh. How did he make her despise and desire him all in one breath? As they spun, she breathed in his

soapy scent, amused by the hint of floral bouquet from his roommate’s shampoo. “You really should get your own shampoo,” she said unconsciously.

“Bit bloody flowery, isn’t it?” He looked down into her eyes, and she was startled again by just how

brilliant his gaze was. The heat from his hands on the small of her back sent warm shivers up her spine, so she arched it just a little further. The movement brought her closer to his chest, and he grinned at her, far too triumphant for her liking, before spinning the two of them again. Michaela felt the looks she was getting from the female guests but shrugged them off.Just for this dance.

“You move well,” Dylan growled in her ear.

“You mean you move well,” she replied, anxious at the effect his mouth was having so close to her ear and acutely aware of what he’d said yesterday about her dancing.

“No, really. I can feel the rhythm in you.” She smelled something else then, a base note. Something

musky and earthy—his personal scent.

All too soon, the song finished. “Now you have to face them,” she said. “To your fans! Go.” She gave him a little push, hoping the frustration in his face reflected at least a tiny bit of regret at having to be parted from her, despite what he’d said to Jake.

“Madam?”

Michaela didn’t have long to gaze at Dylan’s departing , because another man had his hand out, ready

for her. Although she usually managed to shy away from dancing with the passengers—always able to

rely on her very busy and important job to take her elsewhere—she could hardly turn this offer down

when she’d been dancing with Dylan only seconds ago.

The man whirled her around with ample ability, but Michaela couldn’t help but compare his style to

Dylan’s, and his face had none of the dancer’s immediate appeal. He could lead adequately, though.

Michaela found she didn’t stumble or step on his toes at all. But his skill didn’t stop her from promptly and charmingly bowing out of the next dance when the song finished. She hurried to the bar to get an

overview of the whole dance floor.

“Everyone seems to be having a great time.” Felicity liked to perch on a particular stool during the

poolside parties. Usually Michaela liked nothing better than to perch with her, watching over things and listening to Felicity’s running commentary.

Tonight Michaela merely nodded, looking out in the crowd for Dylan. “Helps having a new

entertainment crew. They’ve got boundless energy when they’re so new. Look at the lot of them.”

“It helps having an Adonis to keep all the ladies happy,” Felicity drawled. “Poor guy.”

Michaela spotted Dylan. “He’s hardly suffering. Look at him playing the crowd. I don’t think we need to worry about him.” He was dancing with an elderly woman, her face flushed and her hair a frizz, but the smile on her face said she was having the time of her life. The two of them were surrounded, a circle of women looking on eagerly. “Jesus, they look like they want to eat him.”

“They probably do. It’s the same downstairs. Mr. Chocolate has his very own fan club crushing the

purser desk. It’s causing a bottleneck, ‘cause no one wants to be served by anyone else. We might have to throw some acid at his face or something.”

Michaela snorted. “Maybe you need to take him off the desk and put him on backroom duty.”

“Now you’re talking. He could be my paperwork slave.”

Michaela laughed again. Ah, Felicity was good for her sanity. Her insinuations about Mr. Chocolate were part of her charm, and anyway, it relieved the tension.

Tension. Was that what this was? Just a buildup of tension from being alone for so long? Michaela

examined her body, which was still thrumming from the contact with Dylan. Maybe the advice he’d

given her came from personal experience, and she should give him enough rope to hang himself.

Stop it, she told her body firmly.

She sat with Felicity for the rest of the band’s set, sipping at the chilled lemon water she drank when she was on duty. It was difficult to see any stars in the open sky above them, as the lights flickering over the pool broke a hole in the night’s darkness. But the sense of being outside at sea was still very apparent, and the warm breeze was delicious. The band started to wind down. “Well, that’s it for tonight, at least.”

“That’s it for you, maybe. This lot are going to keep the bar staff going until the wee small hours,”

Felicity said. And it was true. There was no sign of the crowd dispersing. “It looks like our favorite dancer has no plans on slowing down, either.”