Sam took four cruises a year—on different ships in the Buchanan line—to maintain good communication with both crew and passengers. He’d always believed experiencing the cruises in person was the best way to keep his fingers on the pulse of what his guests and employees needed. Not to mention it was the only certain way to make sure those employees were doing their jobs to his expectations.
Gripping his coffee cup, he narrowed his gaze on the expanse of ocean waiting just beyond the harbor. Once they were on the open sea, he’d slip out of his suite, check in with the ship’s captain and then do a walk through the restaurants.
He wasn’t looking forward to it.
Normally, the Fantasy Cruise Line didn’t allow children onboard. Adult-only cruises were their mainstay. But at Christmas, the rules were relaxed so that families could enjoy sailing together on their smaller, more intimate ships.
So for this cruise, not only would he be faced with miles of Christmas garland, brightly lit trees and piped-in Christmas carols, but there would be dozens of kids, hyped up on Santa and candy, to deal with as well. And still, he told himself, it was better to be on this cruise than in his own home where the lack of Christmas would taunt him even more completely.
“Yeah,” he assured himself solemnly, “no way to win this year.”
The phone on the wet bar rang and Sam walked to it. “Yes?”
“Captain says we sail in an hour, Mr. Buchanan.”
“Fine. Thanks.” He hung up and listened to the silence in the owner’s suite. There would be plenty of it for the next couple of weeks and he was looking forward to it even as he dreaded it.
A year ago, things had been different. He’d met a woman on another cruise and two months later, they’d had a Christmas-themed wedding. And they had taken this Christmas cruise for their honeymoon. Yes, for Mia’s sake, Sam had even given Christmas a shot. He hadn’t thrown himself into it or anything, but he also hadn’t been quite the Scrooge he usually was.
Now the marriage was gone. She was gone. And Christmas was back, just to rub it in.
He set his coffee cup down on the bar top, shoved both hands into the pockets of his black slacks and stared around the beautifully appointed room. The owner’s suite was twelve hundred square feet of luxury. Teak floors gleamed in the sunlight, paintings of the sea and several of Sam’s cruise ships lined the walls. On the ocean side of the suite, the wall was one-way glass, affording an incomparable view of the ocean and the wide balcony that stretched the length of the suite.
Leather club chairs and sofas were gathered atop a rich, burgundy throw rug in the middle of the living room and there were tables with lamps bolted onto them, in case of rough seas. There was a flat-screen television on the wall and a dining room off to one side.
There were two bedrooms and three bathrooms along with the private balcony/terrace that added an extra two hundred square feet to the suite. The master bedroom and en suite bath boasted a view of the sea from behind one-way glass. He could see out, but no one could see in.
And in spite of his surroundings, Sam felt...on edge. He stalked out to the terrace and let the cold wind slap at him. Glancing down at the nearly empty deck of the bow, Sam noticed a woman with long, wavy red hair and it felt as though someone had punched him in the chest.
“It’s not her. Why the hell would she be on this cruise?”
Still, he couldn’t look away. She wore white slacks and a long-sleeved green shirt and her hair lifted and twisted in the wind. Then she turned sideways and Sam saw that she was very pregnant. Disappointment tangled with relief inside him, until the redhead stopped, looked up and seemed to stab his stare with her own.
Mia?
His heart jolted and his hands fisted on the cold, white iron railing. She’s pregnant? Why wouldn’t she tell him? Why didn’t she say something? What the hell was she doing here? And why didn’t she take off her sunglasses so he could see the green eyes that had been haunting him for months?
But she didn’t comply with that wish. Instead, she shook her head, clearly in disgust, and then stalked away, disappearing from view in less than a moment.
Mia. Pregnant.
Here.
Sam went inside, rushed across the room and hit the front door at a dead run. Somebody had better tell him something fast. He didn’t waste time with a phone call. Instead he went down to the main deck where passengers were still filing onboard. The purser was there, along with two of the entertainment crew, to welcome people onto Fantasy Nights. Ordinarily, Sam would have been impressed with how easily his employees handled the streaming crowds—all smiles and conversations. But today, he needed answers.
“Mr. Wilson,” Sam said and the purser turned. Instantly, the older man straightened up as if going to attention.
“Mr. Buchanan,” he said with a nod. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yeah. Has a woman named Mia—” he almost said Buchanan, but Sam remembered at the last minute that his ex-wife had returned to her maiden name after the divorce “—Harper, checked in?”
The man quickly checked through the list of names on the clipboard he held. Then he glanced at his boss and said, “Yes sir. She did. A half hour ago. She—”
That was Mia. A very
