There had been attractive men onboard before. Felicity had once had a filthy-handsome assistant, with bright blue eyes and a charming smile.
But he’d been Felicity’s.
There had never been anyone in Michaela’s circle of onboard acquaintances who had caused a real reaction before—except the captain. Yes, and what a mistake that had been.
“Finished?” Dylan was still looking down at her.
“Sorry?”
“Have you eaten yet?”
“No. But I’m not eating with you.”
He shrugged. “Guess I should shower first anyway.”
Michaela clenched her hands at her sides as the image of Dylan under a spray of hot water appeared unbidden her mind’s eye. She watched the steam roll off his shoulders as he came out of the shower, the beads of moisture pearling down his smooth skin, the towel dropping in a damp pile on the floor of his stateroom…
Her hands twitched, slick with perspiration.
“Cruise Director?”
“I’ll see you later.” Michaela forced herself to unclench her hands, but even so, she sighed and followed his long frame with her eyes as it effortlessly ate up the stairs.
No! No, she was not going to think about him in the shower. No, she was not going to eat with him. And no, she was not going to have anything else to do with him.
“Well, as little as possible, anyway,” she said as she reminded herself that he was part of her team. The team she saw and worked with every single day.
…
You idiot.
The kiss had seemed like a good idea at the time. The cruise director had appeared to enjoy the dancing, her hips pushed hard up against his. Dropping her into a dip had been an impulse, really, but the fire in her eyes when he released her was plenty more than Dylan had bargained for. Those eyes had been full of fury and—and something even hotter?
Probably not the best way to put the matter to rest quickly and quietly.
Well, it was done now. At least Jake and his mate had backed off completely. Perhaps now that he’d asserted himself so vigorously, he’d be able to calm down and concentrate on dancing and—and what? Winning over Michaela Western, cruise director, for real?
Her name sat like a plump cherry on his tongue.
The kiss had shown him her heat, but their moonlit conversation had shown him her substance, too. Dylan was surprised that she slipped into his mind so easily. This was supposed to be about taking time off from work. Giving Lily and Brian some space. Doing something for himself. It was supposed to be about dancing, not dating. Wasn’t that enough of a challenge?
You just want to prove that you can get your boss.
Maybe.
Pursuing his boss might not be a good idea in the real world, but this wasn’t his real world. He shook his head. It wasn’t just about winning her over to see if he could. Michaela Western was smart, driven, and independent. He wanted her—all of her—pure and simple. No holiday was complete without an affair to remember.
Dylan walked toward the staff canteen on one of the bottom floors of the ship. Passengers probably didn’t realize it was there, he thought as he walked through its swinging doors. In fact, they probably wouldn’t even smell the food from the canteen, as it and the staff quarters were clumped together in the stern area of the ship and hidden behind heavy double doors.
Dylan saw Michaela walking toward the food queue, and a physical memory of the kiss rippled through him.
Act professional.
He was never like this back home in the boardroom, even when he was hunting down a competitor’s assets.
The room was large. Not large enough to accommodate all the crew at one time, but certainly large enough for the hundreds of crew members to eat as their shifts dictated, and at this time of the evening the long tables were mostly full. He took a breath and approached her and the food.
“Hi,” he said into her ear, stepping up behind her in the queue.
Michaela jumped. “Stop doing that.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mean to put you on edge.”
She eyeballed him with a tawny glare that met his challenge. Nice.
“That was a quick shower,” she said, then wrinkled her nose, sniffed the air, and smirked. “Pretty perfume. Is that vanilla? Or peach? Interesting choice.”
Great. Bloody Jake and his girly shower stuff.
“I had to steal some of Jake’s shampoo. Smells a bit weird,” he said. Dylan watched her face, trying to decipher her thoughts, but after that initial taunt she had thrown her guard back up. Are you just being professional, or do I make you nervous?
He couldn’t resist probing her a little. Dylan glanced at the food, looking for a topic to get her talking. “Italian, my favorite,” he said.
“It’s spinach cannelloni,” she stated flatly.
“Great. I’m starving.”
“Yes, I guess putting on weight isn’t much of a worry for you,” she said, patting her trim waistline.
Was she looking for compliments after all? It was his turn to smirk. “You hardly have to worry. You look like you’ll never really have a problem with putting on weight. Fit young thing like you.” He paused and shook his head. “You didn’t tell me your age last night, but maybe you’re older than you look. You can’t have risen through the ranks fast enough to make it if you really are only in your twenties.”
Michaela seemed to search his eyes. “Indeed.”
Lazy flirting wasn’t going to work. He should have known that—she was smart enough to see right through him. They filled their trays with the piping-hot cannelloni, salad, and juice, and Dylan headed over to the table with the rest of the dancers.
“Coming?” he asked.
It seemed like she was about to refuse when the captain walked in. Scanning the room, Dylan noticed that apart from the seats with the dance team, there was only room at one other table.
“Sure,” Michaela said as she stole a glance at the captain.
His hackles rose on her behalf. “No need to let him rattle you, remember.”
His words worked—she visibly relaxed.
Great. He’d meant what he said about letting the captain make his own mistakes. He’d wanted to give similar advice to Lily countless times, but it was difficult to tell your sister-in-law that your brother was almost certainly going to hurt her all over again, so he’d bitten his tongue.
Following Michaela to their table, he wanted to put his arm around her, show the captain what he’d missed out on.
Calm down. Too much too soon, and she’ll run scared or get the wrong idea.