Christopher Fielding? Michaela would never have cheated on him with a passenger. She was just too honest. The captain probably hadn’t even confronted her with the whole story—he’d probably made an allegation of infidelity, and Michaela had copped to it. She hadn’t admitted to having relations with Christopher Fielding. She’d admitted to her affair with Dylan.
The captain was a right piece of work, making her resign without even bothering to check the facts. Michaela hadn’t been exaggerating about him, that’s for sure. It was time someone stood up for her. Maybe he wasn’t the best candidate—not after the argument they’d had—but if not him, who would do it? She didn’t seem to have a lot of allies on board, and being asked to resign had genuinely upset her. Michaela cared about her work. It was her passion—she’d told him the first night they talked. It was one of the things he enjoyed about her, and he didn’t want her to lose it over a stupid misunderstanding.
Besides, if it weren’t for him, she’d never have admitted having an affair to the captain. In a strange, circuitous way, this was all his fault.
All right, Christopher Fielding. I’m coming to get you.
He didn’t have far to go. A group of young men were heading to the onboard casino, laughing and ribbing each other. They looked about the right age.
“Hey guys,” Dylan said, trying to keep his voice light.
The group turned, a couple of the men shying away from his broad shoulders and large fists. “Do any of you know Christopher Fielding? I need to have a chat with him about…” Dylan searched his mind for something feasible. “…disembarking in Auckland. There’s a form he needs.”
The boys visibly relaxed, and one of them nodded. “Yeah, I just saw him by the pool. That way.”
Dylan nodded his thanks and headed for the forward pool, his hands clenching and unclenching as he walked. Be calm.
But he couldn’t help it. Michaela was his. He pictured her, smile restored, and picked up his pace.
Really? When did you decide to care?
“Well, I’m certainly not losing out to some twenty-nothing, pimple-faced boy and his sad attempt at gossip,” he growled under his breath.
A fair-skinned young man stood beside the main bar. “Excuse me,” Dylan said, his voice light. “Are you Christopher Fielding, by any chance?”
“Depends who wants to know.” The youth turned to face Dylan. His face, already paler than most, whitened further, but Dylan didn’t let him hesitate. He took Christopher’s arm and guided him forcefully to the more private tables in the corner of the deck.
Christopher looked frantically around, checking for security, no doubt. Happily, there was none about, and in any case Dylan would probably be able to get them to help him out when he told them Christopher’s story.
“So, I heard you’ve been having quite the cruise,” Dylan said, trying hard to keep his voice casual.
“Um, yeah, sure.”
“Time of your life, you might say. Getting some luck in with the ladies.” Dylan gave him a wink. “I was hoping for a little extra action myself, thought you might be able to give me some pointers.”
Christopher relaxed at Dylan’s easy tone. “Well, you know how it is. You’ve got the ladies all over you, hardly thought you’d need any pointers.”
Dylan smiled through gritted teeth. “Cruise director is a bit of all right, though, isn’t she? Pretty good for her age.”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not usually into older chicks, but she’s pretty fine, and I mean, what am I going to do? I can hardly stop her wanting me, can I?” The color had returned to Christopher’s face. As he bragged, his chest puffed up. A bloody rooster.
For a moment, there was a flash of red in front of Dylan, and he thought he might actually punch the boy for being so selfish. Instead, he stalked through a doorway, hauling Christopher with him.
“What on earth possessed you to make up a story about the cruise director? You don’t even know her, and she’s much older than you. Why not pick someone young and less important?” Dylan’s anger laced every word.
“I guess I just thought…” The younger man blushed, his body shaking, and then he blurted out, “Well, she’s always dancing with people, and then I saw her getting pulled into some guy’s room. I mean, she’d gone into the crew area, through one of those big blue doors, but it hadn’t closed, and as she went up to a stateroom door someone grabbed her and she smiled. You know, she looked like she was into it. I just thought…dunno. I guess I let my imagination get carried away.”
He saw her coming into my room.
“We’re going to tell the captain the real story,” Dylan said, giving Christopher an authoritative look. “Just the bit about you making stuff up to look cool. He doesn’t need to know anything else.”
“Oh.” Christopher’s head drooped, but Dylan gave him another stern look. The boy needed to know exactly who was in charge.
“Okay,” the younger man said, his head nodding up and down.
…
There was a gentle knock on Michaela’s door. “It’s me.” Felicity’s voice came through the wood and metal.
Michaela dragged herself off the bed and let her friend into the room.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
“I’m an idiot,” Michaela said. The two women hugged, and yet another burst of tears erupted from her.
“I’m so sorry. I heard someone say something about you earlier, but you seemed so unconcerned, I thought it must have been nothing.” Felicity shook her head.
“Nothing!”
Michaela took three deep breaths, then told Felicity about her conversation with the captain.
“The bastard,” Felicity hissed. “Saying that a woman couldn’t do your job. As if he would do any better—he needs a staff of ten to make sure he doesn’t forget anything.”
Michaela smiled. Oh, it was good to smile.
“And the captain said it’s Dylan who’s been telling tall tales? The bloody cheek! I’ll have that man on toast.”
“We did sort of…” Michaela hesitated, but there was nothing to lose now. “Dylan and I… We…”
“You fox!” Felicity’s delight was immediate. “Was he scrumptious?”
“Oh, God!” Michaela’s heart dropped again at the thought of the gossip that was even now whirling around the ship. “Everyone’s been saying I seduced him. That I used my position to take advantage.”