if I can help it.” He came to a stop beside her.
“Of course not. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said sweetly as she leaned on the varnished wood.
“The trick is to break their spirits while they’re young.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “And I can see how good you are at it. Shouldn’t you be getting back inside? Their parents must be desperate without you.”
His glance at the doors was a little hunted. “I’m sure they won’t miss me. I’ll just soak up a little more sun.”
“You’re aware it’s fifty-eight degrees and cloudy, right?”
“I’m an eternal optimist.”
This time she grinned outright. “So how many of them are you up against?”
“Five. All under the age of seven. If you see me in a bar later mainlining Shirley Temples, you’ll know I cracked.”
“I’ll be sure to send over some peanuts.”
Gulls circled over the whitecap-dotted water. Christo pher wore only khakis and a deep blue flannel shirt against the fresh breeze that sent the pennants over their heads snapping, but he seemed not to mind it.
“Do you work outside?”
He blinked. “Why do you ask?”
“You don’t seem to mind the cold.”
His teeth gleamed. “I run a farm in Vermont. This is balmy.”
“Vermont,” she said. “Maple syrup.”
“You’ll warm my cousin Jacob’s heart. He and my aunt have a sugar bush. They make maple syrup,” Christopher elaborated at her uncomprehending look.
“Seriously?”
“Well, someone’s got to. Or are you one of those people who thinks that food comes from the grocery store?”
“Of course not. Everybody knows it comes from restaurant kitchens.”
It was his turn to grin. “You take some keeping up with, Larkin Hayes.”
“Get your running shoes handy. So what do you farm?”
“These days mostly bills.”
“Not much money in that,” she observed.
“There is for my creditors. For me, it’s a miracle cure for being rich. Anyway, what about you? What’s your story?”
Improbable, at best. “Not nearly as colorful as yours. I’m traveling with my father. It’s his birthday.”
“Figured it would be nice to celebrate?”
“Yes.” And even nicer if Carter actually made it onto the ship.
“So where is he?”
“Oh, around,” she said vaguely.
“Had to take a breather already? We haven’t even sailed.”
Larkin gave him a sharp look. “He’s not here yet. He got delayed. We were coming from different cities.” Different continents, actually, but the less said about that the better. She pushed away from the rail to walk.
Christopher ambled alongside her. “So what was your city?”
“L.A.”
“Yeah? You an actress?”
She laughed. “Why would you ask that?”
Humor glimmered in his eyes. “Because you’re not big enough to be on American Gladiators.”
“It’s not the size, it’s the viciousness. I’ve got tricks up my sleeve that would turn your hair white.”
“In that case, could you show me a few so I can defend myself against my nieces and nephews?”
She gave him a sly look. “I only use my powers for good.”
“Oh, come on, I need all the help I can get.”
“Sorry, Gladiators’ code.”
He shook his head sadly. “You didn’t look like a cruel woman when I picked you off the deck.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“In other words, you really are an actor.”
“Isn’t everybody?” She glanced beyond him to see Sophia giggling at the door, next to a little boy with the same midnight hair. “I think you’re being summoned.”
Christopher turned to see them both waving madly at him. “Time to go play uncle,” he said.
“Well, it was nice to meet you.” She put out her hand. “I guess this is goodbye.”
His look held pure devilry. “Just how big do you think this ocean liner is?”
Small, he thought as he followed Sophia back inside to the staterooms. With luck, as small as a tugboat. Larkin Hayes was far and away the most interesting person he’d met on the cruise so far. Oh, hell, who was he kidding? She was far and away the most interesting woman he’d met in years. Four years, to be exact. There was something about her that made it hard to look away, some inner sparkle, a confidence in the way she stood, long and slim. Not to mention the fact that she was flatout gorgeous with that wide, generous mouth and that mane of blond hair that made a man want to sink his hands into it. It wasn’t that that got to him, though (really), but the smarts. Was there anything sexier than a clever-tongued woman?
She put that intelligence to good use, he figured, judging by her outfit: pea-size diamonds in her ears, a cashmere coat and, unless he was very much mistaken, a forty-thousand-dollar Patek Philippe watch. You noticed that kind of thing when you’d spent over eleven years as a financial industry lobbyist. Between Washington and Wall Street, he’d seen pretty much all the trappings of wealth that were out there.
Which had eventually sent him running back to the farming life he’d grown up with, but that was a different story.
And Larkin Hayes had a story. It showed in her eyes, sea green and dancing with fun, yet guarded in some indefinable way. They might have talked but she’d told him very little.
Which only made him want to find out more.
It was an ocean liner and there were only so many places to go. Sooner or later—sooner if he had anything to say about it—they’d run into each other again. Yep, by the end of the week, he was going to know Larkin Hayes a whole lot better.
“We’re moving!”
“No standing on the deck chairs, Adam,” Molly Trask reminded her grandson as they stood on their suite’s veranda. Her bobbed hair,
