style="font-size:15px;"> She snatched the bag out of his hands and clutched it to her chest in much the same way she had done underwater the night before. What was on those other memory cards she seemed so desperate to protect?
“If I’m not mistaken,” she said stiffly, “this is my room. That being the case, please leave.”
She was throwing him out? After he’d saved her life? Exasperation slammed into him. He was only trying to help, dammit. He surged to his feet and headed for the door. A citrus scent wafted to him as he passed by her. It was tart and sweet on his tongue and begged to be tasted more fully, and it only succeeded in making him madder.
He paused in the doorway and spoke, his voice sounding stiff even to him. “I’m sorry if I offended you. But since my help is obviously not welcome, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll have Steig arrange to put you ashore as soon as possible.”
Sunny stared at the door in dismay as it closed behind Aiden. She didn’t mean to make him get all angry and distant like that; she’d just been mad that he’d been rifling through her bag. Its contents were all she had left in the entire world. Literally. Everything she owned had been on the New Dawn and was now lying on the bottom of the ocean. She didn’t need some stranger—even if he was glorious to look at—pawing through what little remained of her life.
She was probably overreacting. And it didn’t help that she was already on edge. Spending more than thirty seconds in the company of Gemma Jones was enough to make any woman feel inferior and a little tense. The doctor was so intelligent it was hard to have a conversation with her; her mind worked so quickly that she leaped from subject to subject almost too fast to follow.
Not to mention, Sunny was a little jealous of the easy relationship Gemma seemed to have with Aiden. Which was silly because she herself barely knew him. But something funny happened to her stomach whenever he smiled at her. And after he’d saved her life, she’d thought they had some sort of special connection. Maybe in her semiconscious state she’d just imagined it.
Disappointment coursed through her. For a little while there, she hadn’t felt alone in the world. And it had been nice. But then he had to go and intrude in her life. What was left of it. Still, she did owe him her life, and she had snapped at him.
She left her cabin in search of Aiden to apologize, but he was nowhere to be found. At least nowhere the crew wanted to tell her about. He’d probably given them orders to keep her away from him. Maybe Steig could intervene on her behalf.
It was hard to believe a person could get lost on a yacht, but this one was huge. And plush. She’d never seen anything as luxurious in all her years of sailing. Eventually, she found her way to the bridge. She stepped into the high-tech space and stopped to stare.
A sailor in a crisp white uniform spotted her. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Is Captain Carlson available?”
The guy glanced at a closed door at the far end of the bridge. “If you’ll follow me?”
Steig stood up when she walked into his compact and very tidy office. “Is anything wrong, Miss Jordan?”
“I thought we agreed you’d call me Sunny.”
He smiled and ducked his head.
“I need your help. I think I made Aiden mad, and I want to make it up to him.”
Steig looked frankly shocked. “Aiden? Mad? Do tell.”
She explained quickly. “I snapped at him when I caught him going through my things, but I’d like to apologize. Make it up to him. I thought maybe dinner with him—” Why did Steig look so stunned? “Is something wrong?” she asked quickly.
“Not at all. Continue.”
“If I invite him to eat with me he might say no. But I thought if you were to ask him, maybe he wouldn’t refuse. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Something simple like a picnic, peanut-butter sandwiches on deck, would be fine. I just need to talk to him before he throws me off the ship.”
“Throws you off?” Steig exclaimed. “Just how angry did you make him?”
“I kicked him out of my cabin,” she confessed. “He yelled at me first, though.”
“Did he, now?” Steig was beginning to look amused. “He actually yelled? I definitely think I can help you. But my chef would not be caught dead serving peanut-butter sandwiches to a guest. I’ll take care of the arrangements. Say, seven o’clock tonight in the salon?”
“Uhh, okay.”
“Gemma will be delighted to help you with some clothes. Be sure to mention to her that Aiden yelled at you.” He waved her out of his office with one hand while an unholy smile spread across his face. “I’ve got some calls to make.”
What had she done? Had she just set up Aiden to be the butt of some horrible practical joke that would only make him more angry at her? She visited Gemma, who reacted just as strangely as Steig to the fact that Aiden had yelled at her. The doctor pronounced it excellent news and immediately agreed to set up Sunny with a nice dress for dinner.
What on earth? Why were they all so thrilled she’d made him mad?
The arrangements for her grand apology in place, Sunny made her way back to her cabin. She managed to take a fretful nap but woke to the memory of a giant black shark bearing down on her with the intent to kill. She jolted awake in a cold sweat.
Why would anyone try to kill her? Had she really made a bunch of fishermen that angry? It wasn’t as if deep-sea fishing practices were any big secret. Plenty of other documentaries had been filmed detailing their more outrageous behavior.
Someone knocked on her door, and Sunny opened it to reveal a steward holding a sexy little black dress on a hanger. He also held out a clear plastic bag that contained panty hose, high-heeled shoes that looked a little big for her but would probably work in a pinch, a curling iron, hair spray and makeup. Lots of lovely makeup. God bless Gemma Jones.
Sunny might happily sail all over the world for months on end and never see a tube of lipstick, but when she got a chance to doll herself up, she enjoyed doing it as much as the next girl. Sighing in delight, she took the offerings from the steward and retreated into her tiny bathroom to play.
At ten minutes till seven, another knock sounded on her door. After a quick spritz of some heavenly perfume, whose name she would have to get from Gemma, she opened the door. Steig, wearing a white dress uniform, looked smashing.
“I’m here to escort you to dinner, Miss Jordan.”
“Sunny.”
“It’s Miss Jordan tonight. And may I say, you look lovely.” He held out his forearm to her. Smiling shyly, she laid her hand on it and let him lead her up two decks and down a passageway to a massive living room. At the far end of it she spied a linen-covered table sporting red roses, tall candles and cut crystal.
“You’re not pulling some kind of joke on Aiden, are you?”
“Not at all. Why would you think that?”
“This isn’t exactly peanut-butter sandwiches on deck.”
