Her only worry was the six-year-old girl on the manifest, Sophie Christopoulos, diagnosed with juvenile diabetes. But her parents had been wise enough to have the girl’s endocrinologist consult with Annalise ahead of time and Sophie had an introductory appointment before tonight’s first supper seating.
Sophie’s insulin was in one of the cases on her cart. With precautions, the young girl should be able to enjoy her trip just fine.
A crepe paper streamer sailed down from the top deck to drape itself across Annalise’s shoulders like a boa. The makeshift fashion statement made her smile.
She looked up to see passengers on the foredeck already in full party mode and they hadn’t even left dock yet. Cruises had attitudes and she could already tell this one was going to be a wild one. No peaceful, relaxing vibes coming from this crowd.
Brandy looked up, shading her eyes. “It’s going to be one of those.”
“The kind of cruise I enjoy most.” While Annalise didn’t partake of the party life herself, she enjoyed the energy.
“As long as they tip well.” Brandy pointed to the sky. “Looks like a storm is coming in.”
Annalise shrugged. “Typical late afternoon for New Orleans this time of year. It will blow through as fast as it’s blowing in.”
A thick bank of stormclouds dimmed the sun’s brightness while a strong gust of wind brought chill bumps to her exposed legs. Sprigs of reddish-golden hair whipped into her face despite the baseball cap she’d plopped onto her head.
The layered cut had been a whim while she’d been on shore, a consolation prize after visiting her mother and finding her the same.
She’d thought short hair would be easier, but she missed the straightforward care of her ponytail. Now her hair was too short to capture with a rubber band and too long to stay out of her eyes without a lot of styling and primping. And primping had no place in Annalise’s life. Why waste the time?
Her life was devoted to patching up people and keeping them healthy so they could enjoy their days under the sun. Stolen time away from the workaday world was precious and she wanted the passengers to be able to make the most of it.
Annalise knew the value of escaping the real world. That’s why being the Fantasy’s onboard physician was her dream job.
A squeal of tires from the parking lot down below caught her attention.
A sporty black convertible with the top down slid into an empty parking slot and careened to a stop. Annalise squinted to see the dark-haired man behind the sunglasses pop his trunk, grab a suit-sized carry-on, a serious backpack and a large rolling suitcase and make a sprint for the entrance of the cruise ship’s land-based check-in facility.
She glanced at her watch. A quarter till five.
When the cruise line said to embark before four o’clock, they had their reasons—security checks being one of the most important ones.
Brandy shook her head. “There’s always one who thinks the rules don’t apply to him, isn’t there?”
Annalise agreed. “He’ll have to do some real sweet-talking to get aboard this ship.”
Brandy gazed absently at the head of the line. “Some men are worth breaking the rules for.”
Not any man she’d ever met.
Stormclouds moved into position overhead, blocking the sun’s intensity but adding a couple of points to the humidity scale, making the moist air heavy to drag into her lungs.
The sooner she was out at sea, the better.
“Next,” came the call from the front of the line.
As she moved forward, Annalise looked back at the dark-haired latecomer juggling his luggage to open the door to the check-in office.
She had to admit he had a face and body that could entice a saint to at least bend the rules a little.
He flashed a dimpled smile at her as he caught her staring.
She could feel a blush heating her face as she looked away.
She was no saint, but the man didn’t exist who could tempt her. Sadly, she wished there were.
Dr. Niko Christopoulos leaned over the counter past the plastic Closed sign, giving the middle-aged receptionist a big dimpled smile. He hoped she liked the rugged, unshaven look. It couldn’t be helped.
“I’m so sorry to be such a bother. I’ve been traveling for the last thirty-two hours straight to get here and my last flight landed late.”
The receptionist, who reminded him of his Aunt Phyllis with her polite but no-nonsense attitude, pulled up his information.
“You’re responsible for the party of twelve, right? The grandmother who thinks she’s won the family cruise?”
Niko gave a quick look around the deserted lobby, as if any of his family might overhear. “That’s right. Do you need to verify my credit card?”
“We’ve already done that. But I do need your passport, please.” She held out her hand.
He handed her the well-worn leather folder.
“The Congo, Doctor? And before that Haiti? You’re quite a world traveler.”
Niko didn’t talk about his charity work—ever. But if it got him on this blasted ship before it sailed … “Doctors Without Borders. An adventure every trip.”
Her eyes softened and she picked up the phone. “Hold the ship for Dr. Nikos Christopoulos. He was unavoidably delayed and will be heading your way in just a moment.”
“Thanks for waiting on me.”
She gave him a sly wink. “I’m sure you’re worth waiting for.”
He returned the wink. “That’s what they tell me.”
“Do you need help with your bags?”
“Got it all here.” He pointed to his military-sized backpack full of shorts and swim trunks and toiletries, his suit bag with his tuxedo and his one rolling bag, glad he’d packed for this trip and stuffed his clothes in his trunk before he’d even left for Haiti, for once planning ahead.
He was more of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy—which came in handy when making split-second decisions in the field. Life or death decisions were enough to worry about without adding the little things to the list. But this week he intended to surrender all decisions and worries and soak in the sunshine.
He needed these three weeks of enforced restful playtime. He had become soul-weary, the kind of tired a good nap couldn’t cure.
Physician, heal thyself. He self-prescribed a big dose of fun and he intended to follow doctor’s orders.
“Have a wonderful vacation, Dr. Christopoulos.”
“I’ll do my best.” It worked. The charm his grandmother loved him for and his brothers taunted him about had gotten him where he needed to be once again.
Use the gifts you’ve been given, his grandmother told all of them. His brothers could all cook meals that would please the gods of Olympus. Niko couldn’t boil an egg.
An easy way with words and a genetically pleasing appearance had been his gift—he just wondered if a woman would ever care enough to see past the exterior to the man underneath.
But