“I don’t believe you.”
“Well … that’s certainly honest. My mother always claimed trust was built on actions, not words. So I guess I’ll have to prove to you that I’m not after anything that you won’t willingly give.”
The trick was convincing him to give willingly.
Tara had given Rand space this past week and he’d used it to avoid her. That ended now.
Excitement and anticipation quickened her pulse and dampened her skin late Friday afternoon. She had three nights at sea with Rand to look forward to. Three nights and four days of sharing a cabin. And a bed.
She could hardly wait. The Miami-to-the-Bahamas Rendezvous trip would be her first cruise and her first real vacation in six years, but neither was the main attraction. The man ahead of her held that honor. She wanted to get Rand to relax with her, to leave the world of work, tailored suits and tightly knotted ties behind. His current navy twill pants, white polo shirt and baseball cap were a good start.
She followed him into their assigned cabin, mimicking his moves of inspecting the closet and the tiny lavatory, which contained a sink, toilet and compact shower/bath stall. Definitely not large enough for two.
Reserving a middle-of-the-road cabin—not the cheapest, nor one of the luxury suites—had seemed the best way to blend in. The room was smaller than she’d expected. But then what did she know about cruising? Nothing. And the cabin’s limited size could work to her advantage. There was literally nowhere for Rand to hide.
Besides the bed, there was a love seat, two tiny bedside tables and coffee table, as well as a wall unit with drawers, a minifridge and a television quietly playing a show about the proper use of life jackets. Seeing those life jackets in the center of the bed reminded her that she’d soon be out of her depth. In more ways than one.
Rand set his cap on a shelf, snapped off the TV and inspected the narrow rectangular space with his hands on his hips. He crossed the carpet and slid open the glass door. Warm sea-scented air flooded the air-conditioned room. Tara joined him on a private balcony about the size of a single bed and looked over the railing. Lifeboats hung from the sides of the ship just below their balconies.
The theme song from Titanic launched in her brain. But even that chilling intrusion couldn’t dampen her enthusiasm. She wanted to bounce and giggle. Instead, she trailed Rand back inside. He didn’t look happy.
“Is there a problem?”
His gaze landed on the bed they’d soon be sharing before returning to hers. “The room is clean, uncluttered and suitably equipped for the price point. The textiles could be fresher.”
He seemed more tense than usual despite his casual attire. “Are you worried about being out of the office? Mitch’s PA assured me your brother could handle everything until Tuesday when we return.”
“I’m sure he can.”
“Rand? Are you okay?”
He looked at her, his gaze running over the flirty strapless apricot sundress that left her shoulders and most of her legs bare. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You tell me.” She tilted her head and her new dangly gold earrings tapped the sensitive spot on her neck—the one that drove her wild when Rand grazed the skin with his teeth. She couldn’t wait for him to do it again, and if this trip went according to plan, he’d do so often.
She’d dreamed about strolling hand in hand on the beaches during the day and on the deck by moonlight, quiet dinners and sharing his bed.
They hadn’t been intimate since that night she’d pleasured him. Instead of spending quality time together this past week they’d had an endless series of meetings with the executive staff during the day, and he’d spent evenings in his bedroom working on his laptop. They probably hadn’t had two hours total of private face time since Monday morning. That didn’t mean she hadn’t been aware of his every movement both at home and work.
She was counting on the forced togetherness of the cruise making it impossible for him to keep his distance. “I’ve never cruised before. I can’t wait for you to show me the ropes.”
Cruising wouldn’t be the only first she’d shared with him, but telling a commitment-phobic man she’d been a virgin before they’d slept together that first night hadn’t seemed like a good idea at the time. She was pretty sure the revelation would have ended not only their evening but also their relationship.
His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you the one who claimed the discounted rates made cruising affordable?”
“I’ve never had anyone to go with.” Except him. “My mother was afraid of the water and Nadia wasn’t interested.” She dug in to her carry-on and pulled out the cruise materials. “We need to sign up for our shore excursions.”
His frown deepened. “I’m here to work, not play. You’re here as camouflage. You’re on your own except for the lifeboat drill and dinners where we’ll need to present ourselves as a couple. Do whatever you want. Go ashore. Use the spa. KCL will cover your expenses. Reasonable expenses. No jewelry. No designer clothing.”
Taken aback by the rapid unraveling of her plans, she struggled to regroup. If she didn’t change his mind, their romantic getaway would be a solitary vacation. She’d been alone enough since her mother died. “But … how will you find out the reasons bookings are down if you don’t do the full cruise experience?”
“I know what to look for.”
“I could help.”
“If this is your first cruise, then you won’t recognize substandard issues.”
He had a point. “You could teach me.”
“Tara—”
“What about the welcoming party?”
“I need to check the ship and the chaos of castoff is the best time.”
His hard gaze pinned her in place. She scrambled for a valid reason to be with him.
“Do you really want to tip your hand and let them know you’re here on our first day? I mean, I realize the check-in associate saw your name, but you had on your hat and your passport still lists a California address. I don’t think she recognized you or made the connection to KCL. We should stick together. You said yourself we’ll draw less attention as a couple.”
His lips thinned in irritation. “Fine. But don’t expect to play inseparable newlyweds throughout the cruise.”
Newlyweds. The word sent her temperature skyrocketing. Her gaze bounced to the bed, then back to Rand’s face. The banked heat in his eyes made her shiver, and the obvious fact that he wanted her kept her going.
She licked her dry lips. She would soon have him exactly where she wanted him, but could she make him happy to be there? Could she make him yearn to share her bed the way he used to?
That was the mission she intended to accomplish over the next three nights.
Rand slid his key card into the lock. He’d deliberately stayed out well past midnight to avoid sharing the domesticated get-ready-for-bed routine.
As soon as he crossed the threshold a sense of confinement doubled his pulse rate, constricted his lungs and pushed sweat from his pores. He’d spent months at sea working all over KCL ships and in almost every capacity and slept in cabins barely large enough to turn around in. Three nights of sharing a balcony cabin wouldn’t be a problem.
If his roommate were anyone else.
His claustrophobic