asked, turning back to him.
“An untenable situation is created. Both of us would have 50 percent so neither would have a controlling interest. We’d have to agree on all major decisions for any real management to happen.”
She could see his point, and understood the inherent problems in the current arrangement, but one thought kept floating to the surface—what if Patrick had wanted her to have half the ship for some reason? He’d known how much Della loved the Cora Mae. Della had grown up on the ships her parents worked on, and her father had been captain of the Cora Mae until his retirement twelve months ago. When he’d offered her a job as a doctor working alongside her mother, she’d jumped at the chance, then spent a year working and cruising with her family. Her mother had retired at the same time as her husband, but Della had stayed. She felt more at home out to sea than she did on land. And the Cora Mae was her favorite of the ships she’d lived on, so the sense of ownership she had for the ship probably wouldn’t surprise anyone.
She stood and smoothed her hands down her dress. “I’m going to have to think about this, Luke. Selling you my half isn’t something I’d do lightly.”
In a flash, he was standing beside her. “How about this. Sell me a 10 percent share. I’ll pay double its worth, so you’ll still end up with a substantial lump sum.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “This is the valuation of the ship that I had done a few days ago. Take 10 percent of that bottom figure and double it.”
Della felt her eyes widen as she gripped the page. It was more money than she’d dreamed of.
“There will be stability to the management,” Luke continued, “and you’ll still get to keep your connection to the ship, plus the cash. Everybody wins.”
Her breath caught. The idea of having a hand in the future directions of her beloved Cora Mae, the promise of the money and the freedom that would bring...it was overwhelming.
Yet, what if Luke was wrong and Patrick had wanted her to have half the ship for some reason? The will reading had only been a few hours ago and in that short time there had already been twists and turns to the situation. It was too much to take in at once.
“I need to think it over.” She refolded the page and handed it back to him. Instead of taking it, he enfolded her hand in his, crumpling the paper inside their two sets of fingers and infusing her hand with warmth.
“The longer this draws out, the worse it is for the ship and her crew. They need stability,” he said, his voice and eyes both urging her to agree.
Her stomach dipped. So many people would be affected by her decision. But that only made it more imperative that it was the right one.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Marlow,” she said, straightening her spine. “This is too big a decision to rush. I’ll contact you when I’ve made up my mind.”
He gazed at her for a long time, far from happy. “I won’t wait forever,” he said, and walked out, leaving her in the library alone.
* * *
Thirty-six hours later—thirty-six hours in which he’d neither seen nor heard from Della—Luke walked along a path in the Sydney Botanical Gardens. They’d docked in Sydney that morning, and before he could find her, Della had left the ship. He was out of time and patience, so, after finding out the direction she’d headed in, he’d followed her.
He didn’t have the luxury of time to sit around and wait any longer. Even without the mess of Patrick’s will to sort out, he had a full-time job running Marlow Hotels. He would not twiddle his thumbs waiting for a summons from Dr. Della.
Scanning the crowd, he finally saw her up ahead. The graceful way she moved, the cloud of soft brown hair that sat like a halo around her head. His pulse picked up speed and for a few dangerous seconds, he forgot why he needed to see her and simply appreciated her. But he wouldn’t allow himself the indulgence for long. Too much was at stake.
“Nice day for a walk,” he said when he drew alongside her.
As she turned, her eyes flared in surprise then narrowed. “Mr. Marlow. What a coincidence.”
“Not so much,” he said with a casual shrug. “The captain told me you had the day off.”
“And you guessed that in a city of four and a half million I’d be in this exact spot.” She arched a dark eyebrow. “Impressive.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth despite his best intentions. “The captain might also have mentioned that you have a fondness for the Gardens.”
“Ah.” She glanced across at a display of native flowers. “Considerate of him to throw that information around. Crew privacy is usually respected.”
“I’m not a random passenger. And you’re no longer a mere crew member of the Cora Mae.”
“Perhaps, but I am still the ship’s doctor.”
Yes she was, but a young doctor with the world at her feet cloistering herself away on a ship made about as much sense as Patrick’s will. He glanced over, looking for a clue, but he found nothing. He needed to understand—to work out what had happened with his uncle, it was important to figure out the woman who was at the center of it all.
“I’ve been wondering something,” he said and dug his hands into his pockets.
Her eyes flicked to him then back to the trees they were passing. “I have a feeling I’ll regret this, but tell me.”
“I’ve seen your résumé. Why are you wasting your medical skills on a ship where you’re hardly using them?”
“I see patients every day.”
“For seasickness and sunburn?”
“Some of the issues are minor, but we’re trained to handle outbreaks of contagious diseases and disasters out to sea. And passenger death is not unheard of. It’s imperative that the ship’s medical staff is highly trained and capable.”
“I don’t doubt it. But why would someone as young as you, with her whole promising career ahead of her, want to settle into a job where she could do ninety-nine percent of the tasks with her eyes closed?”
“I like the job,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Is that what you tracked me down to ask?”
Cupping her elbow, he led her to the side of the path so he wouldn’t have to share her attention with the plant life of Sydney. “We need to resolve the ownership of the Cora Mae sooner rather than later. I have a job to get back to—I’d only planned to sail this first leg to Sydney then fly back to Melbourne. I need an answer to my offer.”
Her hand fluttered to circle her throat. “So soon?”
“Our situation has been reported on the news and if we leave it much longer, the uncertainty could affect my company’s shares on the stock market.”
“I don’t know—” she began, but he cut her off.
“How about this? The ship is scheduled to leave Sydney at midnight. Come to my cabin for dinner tonight. We’ll have privacy to thrash this out and come to an agreement. Then
