“Which suite is she in?”
He knew she had a suite because all of the staterooms on the Fantasy Nights were suites. Some more luxuriously appointed than others but every suite on this ship was roomy and inviting.
“It’s the Poseidon, sir. Two decks down on the port side and—”
“Thanks. That’s all I need.” Sam threaded his way through the crowd already spilling into the atrium, the main welcome spot on any ship.
On Fantasy Nights, the atrium was two stories of glass-and-wood spiraling staircases, now draped in pine garland. There was a giant Christmas tree in the middle of the room boasting what looked to Sam like a thousand twinkling, colored lights, along with ornaments—that the passengers could also purchase in the gift shop. There was a group of carolers in one corner, and miles of more pine garland draped like bunting all around the room.
Hanging from the ceiling were hundreds of strands of blinking white lights, to simulate snowfall and on one wall, there were tables set up, laden with Christmas cookies and hot chocolate.
Sam barely noticed. He didn’t have time to wait for the elevator. Instead, he headed for the closest staircase and took them two at a time. He knew every ship in his fleet like the back of his hand, so he didn’t need to check the maps on the walls to know where he was headed.
The Poseidon suite was one of their larger ones and he wondered why Mia had bothered to book a two-bedroom suite. If she was pregnant, why the hell hadn’t she come directly to him months ago? He had no answers to too many questions racing through his mind, so Sam pushed all of them aside, assuring himself he’d solve this mystery soon enough.
The excited chatter of conversations and bursts of laughter from children and their parents chased him down the first hallway on the port side. On most cruise ships, hallways dividing the staterooms were narrow and usually dark in spite of carefully placed lighting. Fantasy Cruise Line hallways were wider than usual and boasted overhead lighting and brass wall sconces alongside every stateroom.
Here, the floorboards were also teak and on each door was attached a plaque describing the name of the suite itself. For example, he thought as he stopped outside Mia’s suite, her doorway held the image of Poseidon, riding a whale, holding his trident high, as if ready to attack an enemy. He wondered if that was an omen for what was to come.
He didn’t have long to think about it. He knocked and a moment later, the door was yanked open. Long red hair. Sharp green eyes. Green shirt. White pants. Pregnant belly.
But not Mia.
Her twin, Maya.
Was he feeling relief? Disappointment? Both? Sam just stared at her. Damned if he could think of anything to say.
Maya didn’t have that problem. She glared at him then and snapped, “Happy anniversary, you bastard.”
Almost instantly, Mia appeared behind her twin. Rolling her eyes at her sister’s drama, she said, “Maya. Stop.”
Her sister stared at her for a second or two. “Seriously? You’re going to defend him?”
“Defend me from what?” Sam asked.
“What?” Maya repeated, shifting a hard look to him before turning back to her twin. “Really? Even now you want me to play nice?”
“Really.” Mia tugged on her sister’s arm. “I love you. Go away.”
“Fine,” Maya said, throwing both hands into the air. She threw one last hard look at Sam. “But I’m not going far...”
“What the hell?” Sam muttered, keeping a wary eye on the woman as she walked away.
This was not the way Mia had wanted to handle this. But then, nothing about this trip was how she’d wanted it. She hadn’t planned on bringing her entire family with her, for instance. But there was nothing she could do about that now, except maybe keep Maya away from Sam.
“Yeah, she’s not your biggest fan,” Mia admitted, then stepped into the hallway, forcing him to move back to make room. She pulled the door closed behind her, leaned against it and lifted her gaze to the man of her dreams.
Well, she amended mentally, the former man of her dreams.
He was tall. She’d always liked that. Actually, it had been one of the first things she’d noticed about him the night they met. She was five feet nine inches tall, so meeting a man who was six foot four had been great. That night she’d been wearing three-inch heels and she’d still had to look up to meet his eyes.
And they were great eyes. Pale, pale blue that could turn from icy to heat in a blink of time. His black hair was a little too long for the CEO of a huge company, but it was thick and shiny and she’d once loved threading her fingers through it. In fact, even after everything that had happened between them, Mia’s fingers itched to do it again.
He was wearing a suit, of course. Sam didn’t do “relaxed.” He wore his elegantly tailored suits as if he’d been born to wear them. And maybe he had been, Mia mused. All she was sure of was that beneath that dark blue, pinstriped suit, was a body that looked as if it had been sculpted by angels on a very good day.
Her heartbeat jumped skittishly and she wasn’t surprised. She had met him and married him within a two-month, whirlwind span and though the marriage had lasted only nine months—technically—she knew it might take her years to get over Sam Buchanan.
Then he started talking.
“What are you doing here?”
Mia scowled. “Well, that’s a very gracious welcome, Sam. Thank you. Good to see you, too.”
He didn’t look abashed, only irritated. “What’s going on, Mia? Why is my ex-wife on this cruise?”
Hmm. More ‘wife’ than ‘ex’, she thought, but they’d get to that.
“This was the only way I could find to get you alone long enough to talk.”
He snorted and pushed one hand through that great hair. “Really. You couldn’t just pick up the phone?”
“Please.” She
