Docked (5 page)

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Authors: Rachael Wade

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Docked
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“It’s a little late for a run,” I say.

“It’s my favorite time to run. Especially on the ship.” He exhales, his hands still planted on his hips, and casts a glance outward, toward the ocean. “So peaceful at night.”

“That’s one adjective that comes to mind,” I mumble, shifting my gaze.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” I say a little louder, returning my eyes to his. “Well, I better be off. Sorry to have interrupted your jog.”

“How are you holding up?” He pipes up as I start to walk around him. The boat rolls beneath our feet and we sway with it, naturally bending our knees to accommodate the shift.

I still. “How am I holding up?”

He licks his lips and looks sheepish for a moment, scratching below his chin. “Yeah, I mean, being…intimidated by the water, and all. It’s been smooth sailing so far, don’t you think?”

“Smooth?” I laugh, my eyebrows shooting up. “If this is smooth, I’m afraid of what awaits me the next 11 days.”

“Nah, this is nothing. We’ve had much worse, believe me.”

A lump forms in my throat like a stone. I force it down. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I was afraid of the ocean once, you know.” He looks away, down at the deck, and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ve found the key to conquering that fear is to own it.”

“You, afraid of the ocean? How is that possible?” A surprised laugh flutters from my lips and I gesture around us. “This is all yours.”

“No,” he shakes his head with determination, “
this
is all mine.” He presses a finger to his temple and points to his head. “Fear is all a battle of the mind. I choose to own mine. You can, too.”

“If it were that simple, there would be no such thing as anxiety medication. No such thing as therapy. Not everyone has that power.”

“That’s true,” he shrugs, lifting his gaze back to me, “and those are useful, legitimate tools in times of need. But in the end, we are always alone with our mind, whether we have help or not. We can’t escape its damage, we can only learn to manage it.” His expression turns pensive, the deep swirls of his indigo irises flashing somewhere distant, once again out toward the ocean, as if it’s calling to him. I want to call him back from wherever he is, want to ask him why he was once afraid of the ocean, but instead I remain silent, waiting.

He stares out at the sea a moment more before breaking the trance that captured him, settling his earnest gaze on me once again. “So, Miss Banks, what are your plans tomorrow?”

“Anya.”

“Anya,” he chuckles lightly and a ghost of a smile returns, dispelling the heavy solemnness from moments ago.

“I’m not sure yet. I think I’m sleeping in, and then who knows. No doubt Lana has my agenda all laid out for me. She’s a planner. It drives me mad.”

“Well, we arrive in Nassau at 9 a.m. I hope you ladies take advantage of the sights.”

“I’m sure we will.”

“In the afternoon, if you can spare the time, I’d love it if you’d swing by my office. Perhaps for an interview, of sorts? For your magazine feature.”

“Oh, I’d love to, but…I really should leave that up to Lana, since it’s her feature. I’m here to help with supplemental research and to chat with some of the guests.”

Tanner’s chin lifts slightly and he straightens his shoulders, taking a step forward. He casually clasps his hands in front of him, adjusting his stance in front of me. Each ridge of his abdomen ripples with the movement.

I swallow.

“What could be better than chatting with the owner of the cruise line?”

“Well, I don’t know, I guess—”

“You should come by. My office is on Deck 10, Forward. Just let Heidi know I’m expecting you. She’s my receptionist.”

“I’ll speak to Lana about it. Thanks for the offer.”

He purses his lips, and I can see the cogs in his mind turn, but he doesn’t comment. Finally, he settles on formality. “It’s my pleasure, Miss Banks. I look forward to seeing you.” He begins to jog off, pivoting on a hip to call out to me over his shoulder. “Please be careful out here. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me or the staff know.”

“Thanks,” I reply with a light wave. He nods and returns his focus forward, sticking his earbuds back in his ears. He runs off into the night, down the deck, until he disappears around the corner, and I’m left alone with the wind and the crashing of the ocean waves as they beat the side of the ship.

 

 

 

 

THREE

The next morning is a blur. I’m harassed with pillows being chucked at my head until Lana successfully lures me out of bed, and then I’m whisked off the ship to visit the Nassau straw market. We spend most of the morning milling around, playing the ultimate tourists, and eventually make our way back onto the ship in time for lunch. Lana goes on and on about how bad she felt for ditching me at the Bordeaux Room last night, asking me where I sneaked off to. I tell her it didn’t bother me in the least, and that I took a stroll on the jogging deck. When I get to the part about running into Mr. Blue Eyes, she perks up with interest, practically drooling for details.

“Please tell me you lured him back to the stateroom and seduced him,” she says deviously, gripping my shoulder as we enter our room.

“What?” I laugh, unlocking the door. “Lan, you have such a one-tracked mind.”

“When we’re talking about Mr. I-Own-The-Cruise-Ship Christensen, hell yes, I do! And I am
not
ashamed, babe. He’s sinfully sexy. You should do him.”

“Lana!”

Her eyes bulge at the tone of my voice. “You’re only freaking out because you know I’m right.”

“We’re reviewing the cruise liner.”

“So?”


His
cruise liner.”

“Still not gettin’ it.”

I sigh and drop my purse on the edge of the bed, slumping onto the mattress. “He might be sinfully sexy, but that’s like…like sleeping with our boss.”

“It’s nothing like sleeping with our boss. Girl, what have you been smokin’?”

“Forget it.”

“No.” Lana thrusts her hip to the right and crosses her arms as she plants herself in front of me. She stares down with narrowed eyes and kicks out her ankle to nudge my shin. Her red hair is especially fiery today. “What is with you?”

“What do you mean, what’s with me?”

“Why are you so determined to put the lock-down on bringing the sexy back?”

“Lan, will you please not speak in Justin Timberlake?”

She sighs dramatically and drops her hands to her sides. “I want this cruise to help you move on from Jeremiah.”

“I’m over Jeremiah. You’re acting like he broke my heart and shattered it into a million pieces. He was just a fling.”

“An eight-month-long fling.”

“So?”

“So, you obviously had some feelings for him, even if they didn’t run very deep.”

“It was nothing serious. Jeremiah’s history.”

“I get that, An. I do. But you got comfortable. And what you had with him was so…”

“So what?” I raise a brow and deliver a warning glare. She really isn’t one to dole out judgment of relationships, considering all she put up with when it came to Matt Jenkins. But I know she loves me, and that deep down, she really thinks she’s helping.

“Mediocre. You settled. And now you’re in a funk.”

“I’m not in a funk.”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, you are. And as your best friend in the whole world, it’s my sole duty to get you back on the horse. Or in this case, back on your back.”

I fling a pillow at her.

“And then there’s the whole drowning thing…”

“Don’t go there. Please.”

“I know you don’t like talking about it, but what better time is there to confront it?”

“I am confronting it by being here.”

“Fine. I won’t push it.”

“Good.”

“But I will push you right into Christensen’s bed, if that’s what it takes.”

I flop back onto the mattress with a sigh. “I saw him with some brunette yesterday. In the hallway.”

“So?”

“He was about to…”

“About to what?” Lana lunges forward to the edge of the bed to hang over me, bursting at the seams with burning curiosity.

“He was about to screw her. Right there, in public.”

“No effing way!” She gasps and hops onto the bed, bending down to shake my shoulders. “Why didn’t he?”

“Because I crashed their party.”

“Oh my God, that’s so hot.”

“Yeah, well. Was. Before I ruined their fun.”

“Okay, now I’m certain of it.” Lana stops shaking me and slides off the bed, hopping back to her feet.

“Sure of what?”

“You positively have to sleep with him.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“Any man that would take a woman like that in broad daylight, in a public place, is a man who knows exactly what he wants. You need that—a man with guts.”

“Did you not just hear what I said?”

“Anya.”

“He’s clearly involved with someone else. Or maybe a few someone elses, I don’t know. He said she wasn’t his girlfriend.”

“He told you that?”

“It came up in conversation.”

“Then he just gave you a massive green light!”

“You’re crazy.”

“I speak the truth. He wouldn’t have told you that if he didn’t want you to know he wasn’t taken.”

“Whatever. Do you promise to stay out of this? No meddling, I mean it.”

“Ha!” Lana puckers her lips and blows me a kiss, then turns for the bathroom. “I will promise no such thing.” She slams the door and I stomp my foot like a three-year-old.

It is not a proud moment.

“I have to go out,” I call out after taking a deep breath. “I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

“Where’re you going?” Lana asks from behind the bathroom door.

“I have some business to take care of. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Okay, fine. Have fun!”

“See ya.” I snatch up my bag and stop in front of the dresser to check my hair and make-up. I look entirely nautical today, in an ivory boatneck sweater and a navy pencil skirt, complete with red and navy striped scarf and cream heels. My brown hair is down and styled in its natural waves, and my eyes and cheeks are bright. Hopefully this is casual yet sophisticated enough for my little business meeting. Forget running it by Lana. That will only encourage her.

A light, sweet aroma greets me when I step off the elevator onto Deck 10 Aft. Like freshly baked sugar cookies. Whatever it is, it’s heavenly. I stroll forward through an elaborate set of golden-arched doors and come face to face with a young, elegant woman in black, trendy glasses.

“Hello,” she says, smiling up at me sweetly. She sits behind a wide, spacious desk with three telephones and three different computer screens. Good Lord, what kind of security fortress is this? “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Christensen. He told me to ask for Heidi and to let her know he was expecting me.” I extend a hand over the desktop and give the woman a cordial shake. “My name’s Anya Banks and I’m with Four Corners Elite.”

“Ah yes, Miss Banks. I’m Heidi. Mr. Christensen mentioned you might be coming by. He’s actually out at the moment, but he should be back shortly. Please take a seat in his office and he’ll be right with you.” She smiles politely and points to the double doors to the left. I quickly thank her and retreat through the doors, knowing Lana would be cheering me on if she were here to see this. I’m not sure what compels me forward, what brings me to accept Tanner’s invitation, but my curiosity sizzles. The fodder for Lana’s feature resides behind these doors, and I’m determined to dig up the dirt.

The doors click behind me as I shut myself into the office. The room feels more like a library, with floor-to-ceiling shelving that wraps around the entire space. The shelves match the desk, a regal and rich chestnut brown wood with ornate, beveled edges. The view that lies just beyond the desk is astonishing. Wide, clear picture windows curve around, framing the office in a bright blue backdrop, where the sky meets the ocean. A tall-back leather swivel chair faces outward, toward the spectacular view, and I can’t help but wonder what it must be like to sit there day after day, staring out, knowing you own this ship. Feeling like you own the sea itself.

I set my bag down on one of the chairs and veer around the desk, admiring the set-up. The chair taunts me. I glance at the double doors. My body swiftly melds into the leather as I give in, resting my forearms on the plush armrests. I tilt my head back and cross my legs, inhaling deeply. I throw another glance at the double doors and wait, hearing nothing but the sound of a phone ringing from the other side. I pivot and roll the chair up to the desk, feeding my tingling curiosity.

How is it possible that this young, successful businessman was once afraid of what he now owns?

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