The Billionaire's Christmas Cruise by Dakota Rebel (my reading book txt) 📕

Talk about thunder down under… I’d never had such an instant reaction to a guy. He was like…I don’t know. A modern Clark Gable? Yes, my affinity for old movies was showing. But God, he was so put together and smoldering. I’d itched to drag him into a dark corner, push my hands into his hair and kiss him like he was my last meal. The way he devoured me with his piercing dark eyes told me he’d like the same.

We’d settled for a drink in the VIP lounge and learning a little about each other. I told him why I was in Vegas and discovered he was a businessman of some kind, there with his brothers to celebrate closing a deal. The whole time I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I’d wanted to kiss him so bad. Again with that outlandish need.

I didn’t cave, not wanting to be one of those drunk girls who regrets losing control and hopes to God the actions really do stay in Vegas. But I’d left with regrets.

My finger traced his image on my phone, inadvertently blowing up the picture and magnifying his model-like features. He had dark hair and eyes like me, but we were hardly a matched set.

I was kind of curvy, kind of bookish, kind of plain. Men didn’t give me a second glance, so it had stunned me when Chase had—Chase who should be on the silver screen or gracing the covers of books. Women probably swooned in his path. But he’d zeroed in on me and not let go until he’d escorted me safely to my limo—along with the other girls with me, of course.

His fingers had feathered over my cheek, such longing in his eyes, as we’d said goodbye. I thought I heard him say for now but that was probably my imagination. No. There was no probably about it. It was my imagination. I mean…three months had passed. Besides, we were strangers passing in a bar. We didn’t even live in the same part of the country.

Now, I was taking a cruise with almost a thousand more strangers over the Christmas holiday. Maybe, I’d meet someone who wouldn’t make fun of me for fearing water, yet spending a full week on a ship. Nice idea, but all I wanted was a guy I’d probably never see again. They had a library and two theaters and a ton of shows, so I’d just keep myself busy. Maybe, I’d spend some time in the Caribbean sun getting a tan everyone back in snowy Chicago would be envious of.

The first order of business was to look over the excursions available and pick them. I’d been told I didn’t have to choose them ahead of time. As a prize winner, they were holding open a spot for me in any of them I wanted to do, but I would need to decide today, so they could open up whatever I didn’t want. That was a nice perk.

The line finally started moving and I could see people boarding the ship. Loud, festive music reached me and a buzz of excitement thrilled through the crowd. Ahead of me, a group of girls bopped to a dance version of Santa Baby. I grinned, kind of wishing my college friends were with me on this trip. We’d had so much fun in Vegas. Who knows what we’d get up to if let loose on a city-sized ship?

My own excitement vibrated, anticipating the trip of a lifetime and my steps were rapid as I hurried along the final gangplank into the ship where gregarious crew members took pictures, handed out ship IDs that were keyed to individual staterooms, and welcomed everyone aboard. They directed passengers toward the party on the upper deck for food and fun. Apparently, we weren’t allowed to go to our rooms until after departure. I didn’t plan to spend much time in the cabin anyway, so it was all cool.

I grabbed some fries from the deck grill and avoided the dance party at the pool’s edge. They were fun to watch, one of the cute cruise directors was leading the dance, his short springy dreadlocks bouncing with each move.

When it was finally time to go down to the cabin, it had already been a long day. Who knew it was such a production to get aboard then set sail? If I ever cruised again—Ha! Unlikely—I’d be prepared. But now, I just wanted to sprawl out on the bed for a few minutes.

At my passageway, the porter in charge of that section greeted me and told me his name was Marco. After, taking my name, he nodded then led me down to the doorway with my bags outside. He opened the door and gestured me inside. “I’ll bring these through for you. Take a look around. If you need anything, at any time of day, call the number for the porter on your desk. It will come right to me or whoever is covering for me overnight, and we’ll take care of whatever you need.”

“Okay,” I murmured, overwhelmed as I looked around. I was expecting a tiny interior cabin with no window. Before me was an enormous set of rooms. The main sitting room had yawning double doorways off to the right and left, with a small eating area and the other, a spacious bedroom with a king-sized bed. Straight ahead was a sliding door that led to a wide deck with another table and a pair of chairs. Despite my aversion to water, it was beautiful. Right now, there was nothing but ocean, waves glittering in the sun, for as far as the eye could see. Near that door stood a silver-and-gold bedecked Christmas tree, its white lights glimmering in the evergreen branches.

“Wow…” I whispered.

I turned in a circle in awe that this was for me. That’s when I realized two things. First, Marco was gone. Second, there were extra bags beside mine. Well, crap.