I don’t dare work in that house until it’s been repaired. But I hate the thought of stopping the search right now when I think I’m on to something. Well, I’m not going to waste the time. I have a day and a half before flying to Ocho Rios to meet Shirley.
At the thought of what awaited him, sweat poured down his shirt collar and his heartbeat thudded wildly. He admonished himself to get his act together and telephoned Rodney Falls.
“This is Carson. I’ve got some hours I could use to acquaint myself with your reluctant bridegroom. I’ll be over in half an hour.”
Later, after getting the gist of the story, he decided to take the case. But he made a note on the contract that his agreement to find the man was contingent upon his conversations with the jilted bride, who was in seclusion and refused to see anyone. Back at his office, he drew a diagram of Leon Farrell’s secret cabinet and began to study it. Could it be that the cabinet itself contained a hiding place and that he was wasting time looking into the different items on the shelves? He’d find it if he had to dismantle the entire cabinet.
Thursday finally arrived, and Carson boarded a noon flight to Ocho Rios. After a smooth journey during which he slept, he took a limousine to the
Utopia Girl
and checked into his stateroom. When he had shoved his bag into the room, he rushed toward the window to see what kind of view he would have. But before he reached the window, his gaze took in a huge bouquet of lavender, white, pink, and red orchids, a bottle of Moët & Chandon champagne, and a large basket containing cookies, crackers, cheese, and tropical fruits. He forgot about the view from his window, dropped himself into a big chair, and dialed Shirley’s number.
“Ms. Farrell speaking.”
“This is Carson. What time do we sail?”
“Carson! Where are you?” The excitement in her voice told him more than any words she could have uttered.
“I’m in my stateroom. Thanks for this wonderful welcome.”
“You’re already on this ship? Are you serious? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“It’ll be the longest fifteen minutes I ever spent. Hurry.”
After brushing her teeth, combing down her hair, and exchanging her pants for a skirt that flared around her knees, she stepped out of her office, where in anticipation of his arrival she had stashed a change of clothing, and took the elevator to the fourth deck. She reached his stateroom in precisely a quarter of an hour. He flung the door open after her first knock.
“That was sixteen minutes,” he said, his face beaming in a wide grin. He picked her up, kicked the door shut, and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m starved for you. Woman, you’re even sweeter and more beautiful than I realized.” He stepped back, looked at her, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Do I act like a man who’s hooked? I must be, because being with you makes me so happy.”
To her, his being there seemed like a mirage. She’d spent the past week thinking of the moment when she’d see him again and be with him in a different, fairy-tale environment, wondering how she’d relate to him and whether her feelings for him would have changed. The only difference was her far greater yearning to be a part of him. When his entire demeanor changed from one of a delighted lover to that of an almost predatory possessor, she knew that what she felt shone in her eyes.
“Aren’t you ever going to kiss me?” she asked him.
He stepped closer, bent to her and, with her body pressed tightly to his, he traced the seams of her lips with the tip of his tongue. Like a morning glory receiving the kiss of the sun on an early spring morning, she opened to him and took him in. The symbolism of her rare submissiveness wasn’t lost on either of them. She could feel him holding back, and, for once, she did the same.
Still holding her, he asked, “Where is your stateroom?”
“Next door. When you called, I was in my office on the second level.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Is there a connecting door between us?”
“Uh ... yes, but it’s locked right now. Do you like your room?”
“It’s elegant. I was about to check the view when I saw your hospitality gifts. You treated me royally.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re a king, at least to me.”
“Woman, don’t say a thing like that to me unless you mean it. And another thing. You’re on duty, and I don’t want to compromise you in any way. What are your working hours?”
“I’m on leave from ten tomorrow morning until the next trip, when I’ll be back on the
Mercury,
my regular ship assignment. But we can have dinner together at seven-thirty—cocktails, too, if you like. I’m not on night duty. Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“I could use something light, some good fish.”
She sat down and dialed the restaurant. “This is Ms. Farrell. Would you send broiled swordfish, potato puffs, and asparagus to 4116-A?” She turned to Carson. “What would you like for dessert?” Her eyes widened when he ran his tongue across his thin top lip. If he knew how sensuous he was, would he control the evidence of it? He could light up her libido without trying. “Three big scoops of cherry-vanilla ice cream, a half bottle of pinot grigio marguerita, and no soup or salad, thanks.”
She completed the order. “They’ll put the wine on your tab. If you need anything else, you have my number.”
“I’m glad to know it,” he said with a grin spread all over his face.
“I mean my cell phone number, smarty,” she said, though she’d lie if she told him or anybody else that she wouldn’t dance to his tune.
He shrouded himself in innocence. “Whatever else would I have been talking about?”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Unless you want the job of assuring your passengers that there really aren’t any wild wolves howling on this ship, you certainly will see me later.”
Her frown dissolved into a wide grin. “If I thought you were joking, I’d see if you’d really do that. But you look as if you might. I suppose sailing brings out the nuttiness in some people. See you at a quarter of seven. Jacket and tie are de rigueur.”
To her delight, she had no serious requests from passengers for service that afternoon. No one seemed to have been left behind in Bahia, no children were lost on the boat, and no one had to fly home in a family emergency. For her, that constituted a banner day. At five o’clock, she hooked the land phone to the operator, closed her office, and went to her stateroom.
Her ship-line phone rang as she walked into her room, and thinking that Carson might be her caller, she ran to answer.
“Ms. Farrell speaking,” she said, remembering that she was the ship’s PR officer.
“Hi, sis,” Gunther said. “I see you’re in Jamaica. When are you leaving there?”
“Saturday morning. How’re things?”
“Fine with me. We had a terrible storm the other night, and Father’s house got some damage. Riggs is taking care of it.”
“What? What happened?”
“Actually, it’s pretty serious, but the insurance will cover it, so not to worry. I hope Edgar stays in Las Vegas or somewhere until they’ve completed the repairs, because I don’t want to live in the same house with him.”
She sat down, contemplating the consequences of that news. “No. I don’t, either. There wouldn’t be one minute of peace.”
“Yeah, and it’s a pity. He thinks life’s screwing him, and he can’t see that he’s doing it to himself.”
“And to us as well. Where will he stay?”
“Riggs is trying to get the insurance company to pay for his lodging in a furnished apartment or a bed-and-board accommodation.”
“I hope he can manage it.”
“Right. I take it you’ll be back here sometime Sunday.”
“That’s my plan. I gotta get ready for dinner. Here, nobody goes late to the captain’s table. See you later.”
“Right on!”
She dressed in a sleeveless, buttercup-yellow chiffon-silk dress that had tucks from waist to midhip, flared to an inch below the knee, and had just the right amount of décolletage. With her hair around her shoulder, gold bangles at her earlobes, and a beguiling perfume at her throat and wrists, she knew she was at her best. If she had doubted the effect, Carson’s gasp when he opened the door would have reassured her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek, “and you ... you look perfect.”
“Thanks. You’re not doing badly yourself,” she said of his towering good looks and flawless physique in a white shirt, blue and white striped tie, navy jacket, cream-colored slacks, and white shoes.
“Thank you,” he said, and it occurred to her, not for the first time, that Carson didn’t pay much attention to his looks or that, if he did, he didn’t compare his own looks to that of other men. And it was just as well, because he towered over most in ways more than height.
“We’re going down?” he asked when she pushed the Down button on the elevator. “I walked around this afternoon, and I thought I saw the restaurant on a higher floor.”
“You did, but we’re not going there. We eat at the captain’s table.”
“I’m impressed. Do you always eat with the captain?”
“I’m fourth-ranking officer on this ship. If I were number six, I’d eat somewhere else.”
“All right. I stand corrected. You can’t blame me for not wanting that guy in my territory.”
She raised an eyebrow, but she decided to treat it as an innocent comment and not say anything. She’d promised not to see other men, but if he wanted serious territorial rights, he’d have to give her a reason and he’d have to make it plain and verbal. They entered the captain’s dining room, and it pleased her that the captain also had a female guest.
Please God, don’t let it be his sister, or any other female relative.
She walked with Carson to the head of the table. “Captain Meadows, this is Mr. Montgomery.”
“Good to meet you,” the captain said in his deep, gravelly voice. “Welcome. I hope you’re enjoying the cruise.”
“I am indeed, sir, and I’m delighted to have this opportunity to meet you.”
The captain gestured toward the woman who sat at his right. “This is Ms. Warren. She hopes someday to make an honest man of me, and I’m hoping she doesn’t give up, but she’s a landlubber, and I can’t resist the water. Magda Warren, meet my PR director, Shirley Farrell, and her friend, Mr. Montgomery. We’ll be nine tonight. While we’re waiting for the others, let’s have some drinks.” Minutes later, the purser arrived with his wife and small daughter, followed by the ship’s doctor and her husband.
Carson seemed to enter freely into the dinner conversation and to show enthusiasm for the ideas bandied around, but Shirley knew that his mind was really on her. With every pause in his speech, he focused on her. It didn’t make her nervous; rather, it excited her.
After a memorable meal, they bade their dinner partners good night. “Would you like to see a movie, or dance?” she asked him. “There’s a kind of old folks’ orchestra playing waltzes, fox-trots, and calypsos on the other end. Or we could sit in one of the lounges and talk.”
“Let’s find a quiet lounge. I don’t care to have to fight with a gang of dudes who want to dance with you.”
“Humph. I ought to insist that we dance. It would be fun to see how you’d react with half a dozen women trying to get you to dance. They’re out for fun, and they leave the idea of decorum at home. Nowadays, a lot of women feel that they don’t have to wait until a man asks them to dance.”
“I’m all for that, so long as I’m not the man.” He grabbed her arm. “Which way is the lounge?”
She couldn’t help laughing. It had never occurred to her that anything would make Carson Montgomery panic. “It isn’t funny; women are used to having men act foolish over them,” he said, “but
they’ve
always showed better taste and common sense.”
She laughed harder. “I think you mean that as a compliment. Let’s sit over here.”
They sat beside each other, and he slipped his arm around her shoulder. “I’d like to go into the city tomorrow. Can you go with me?”
“My time is your time.” He was being a bit more casual than she had expected. There didn’t seem to be any urgency about what he wanted for them.
Patience, girl! Wait till he shows his hand.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks. If it’s too hot, or you’re not enjoying it, we’ll come back to the ship. Let’s eat breakfast on our deck and leave the ship at about ten?” She nodded. “A few nights ago, Ellicott City had a terrible storm, and your father’s house sustained some damage. It’s my understanding that the insurance company will pay for the repairs. I thought you should know.”
“Thanks for telling me. Gunther called me this afternoon and told me, but he didn’t say how bad it was.”
Carson told her what he had observed. “I think the worst damage was the uprooting of that cottonwood tree and the breaking off of the chimney top.”
She sat up straight, but he pulled her back into the curve of his arm, surprising her. “Just wait until Edgar comes back,” she said, as if she hadn’t noticed his show of possessiveness. “He’ll twist that into something against him. Gunther said that Riggs is asking the insurance company to pay for Edgar’s temporary housing, and I hope it will, because when he gets back here from Las Vegas, he probably won’t have a penny.”