Lauren was so lost in her examination of the galley that she failed to notice when she was no longer alone, and she jumped with someone cleared their throat behind her.
“May I help you?”
The voice was a low, rough alto that sent pleasant shivers rolling down Lauren’s spine. “I’m sorry…” she began to apologize as she turned around, but the remainder of her apology died on her tongue when she found herself looking at the woman from the bar the night before.
If Lauren had thought the brunette was beautiful from a distance, it was nothing compared to how she looked up-close. She was perhaps an inch taller than her own five foot ten inch frame, and her eyes, the one feature Lauren had not been able to catalogue the night before, were a warm brown, flecked with streaks of gold that gave them a hypnotic depth that was nearlyimpossible to look away from. Lauren was acutely aware of the way the brunette’s eyes swept slowly over her body, and her stomach lurched at the almost horrified look that was on her face when their eyes met again. The brunette’s face seemed to pale as they stared at each other, and Lauren found herself thrown completely off-balance by the entire situation. The woman in front of her did not look upset at finding a stranger on her boat. She looked stunned. Like there was something about Lauren that absolutely terrified her.
The strange silence seemed to go on forever, until Lauren blurted, rather inelegantly, “I cook.”
The brunette nodded slowly, a look of understanding and panic flashing in her eyes. “Lauren Murphy?”
“Yeah.” Lauren looked back over her shoulder at the galley and shrugged. “I’m the, uh, new chef.”
“Right,” the brunette muttered, forcing a small smile as she held a hand out in greeting. “Grey Wells. Welcome aboard theVeritas.”
“Thank you,” Lauren murmured as she reached for Grey’s hand, and it was then that she remembered her waiter’s words from the night before.
Not even Wells can sleep with that many women.
But, Lauren surmised as she shook Grey’s hand, her waiter was wrong. She had no idea how many women Grey was rumored to have bedded, but she had no doubt that the brunette could pick up pretty much any woman if she tried. Grey was simply too beautiful to ever be turned down. Lauren smiled shyly at Grey as she released her hand and turned back toward the galley. “I’ll need to check the pantry to make sure I have everything I need before I head over to the farmer’s market to pick up the fresh produce for the trip.”
Grey nodded, clearly relieved that Lauren seemed more interested in examining the boat than making nice with her. “It’sstocked with pretty much everything that I think you could possibly need, but I’ll let you look for yourself after we get your things stowed away. So—” she clapped her hands, grateful for the opportunity to look anywhere but at Lauren, “—I’ll give you a quick tour, and then we can get to it. This is the salon.” She waved a hand at the open space they were standing in. “Galley, dining room, lounge, and navigation center. Through there—” she pointed at a narrow oval-shaped doorway that was nestled between the dining area and the lounge, “—are two guest cabins that share an en suite. The other guest cabins are along the starboard side, both with full en suites.”
Lauren looked at the stairs by the desk Grey had called the navigation center and nodded. Grey was obviously trying a little too hard to sound upbeat, and when she glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Grey was studiously avoiding looking at her. There was a stiffness to her posture that told Lauren she was anxious about something, and Lauren could not help but wonder what in the world she had done to make her act that way.
“Crew cabins are this way,” Grey continued, waving a hand for Lauren to follow her as she made her way past the galley and down five narrow steps to the landing that separated theVeritas’two other cabins. Floor-to-ceiling cabinetry filled the outer wall of the small area, and she pointed at the door that was at the stern. “My cabin is there, yours is at the bow. You have your own en suite, and there is a closet with drawers inside it for your things. All cabins have televisions that are wired to the boat’s electronic entertainment system, so you’ll have full-access to the digital library. The boat also has WiFi via satellite, if you need to check emails or go online while we’re out on the charters. The WiFi network is called Veritas, and the password isopensesame—all lowercase, no spaces.”
Lauren looked at the oval doorway that led to her cabin. “Got it.”
Grey nodded and tried her best to appear calm. Her heart rate spiked as her eyes locked onto Lauren’s, and she immediately looked back toward the salon, desperate for some kind of an escape. “Excellent. Well, the Muellers won’t be here until midday, so you have some time now to stow your gear. I’m assuming you have a copy of the food profile they filled out when they scheduled their charter?”
Lauren nodded, even as her mind clicked through the basics. Family of five. No allergies. Three young boys who are adventurous eaters but do not like anything too spicy. “I do.”
“Awesome. Well, when you’re done unpacking, I’ll show you the pantry. You can dig around in there and the fridge, make notes on whatever it is you’ll need that I haven’t already bought, and then we can go to the farmer’s market in town. There’s a fishmonger I like who always has a stall there, and we can pick up the steaks, chicken, and whatever else you’re going to need from the butcher on the way back to the boat.”
“Okay,” Lauren said, her brow furrowing slightly.
Grey forced a smile that was more akin to a grimace, and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Great. I’ll be on deck, just come on up when you’re ready.”
CHAPTER THREE
STANDING AT THEVeritas’helm, the one place that had been her sanctuary over the last three years, Grey ran her hands through her hair and looked out over the familiar expanse of Charlotte Amalie’s harbor. Now that she was no longer fighting to control herself for appearance’s sake, her hands shook, and she was seriously tempted to fire Lauren before she had prepared a single meal. Grey knew that it was not really an option—there was no way she was even close to being capable of preparing the meals for the next two cruises that Lauren had signed-on for—but that knowledge was not enough to keep her from thinking about it.
She took a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and then let it go. And then she did it again. And again. Eventually, the regulated breathing calmed her racing heart and eased the shaking in her hands, but it did little to stop her mind from spinning.
The past came back to her in flashbacks. A warm smile. Gentle eyes. Tender touches. Whispers of affection that were laced with so much emotion that her heart would skip a beat. Harsh fluorescent lighting. Beeping Machines. And then nothing. Always nothing.
If there was one road Grey could not allow herself to travel, it was that one. She knew that time was supposed to heal all wounds, but the gaping hole in her heart was just as all-encompassing as ever, and she had yet to find anything that could make it go away. Drinking herself into a stupor worked to a degree, as did losing herself in the desperate embrace of a woman whose name she never particularly cared to learn, let alone remember, but neither of those coping mechanisms were going to work for her now because she had guests arriving in a few hours and a new chef making herself at home below deck.
She could not help but be pissed at Lauren’s presence on her boat, and she latched onto that anger as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She did not even have to look at the screen to pull up the number she needed, and she gritted her teeth as the call rang through. She knew that what she was about to do was not at all fair, but she was too upset to care. “You fucking suck,” she greeted her best friend the moment she picked up.
Kelly Kipling laughed.“Sometimes, yes. But why, exactly, do I suck this time?”
“Lauren Murphy,” Grey muttered, rolling her eyes and running a frustrated hand through her hair. “You were supposed to find me a goddamn chef for a couple cruises.”
“And, judging by her résumé, I did. She graduated first in her class from the Culinary Institute of America. From the handful of people I talked to while checking her references, I can tell you that she’s widely regarded as one of the best sous chefs in New York, and everybody is expecting her to be given her own kitchen sooner, rather than later. Her bosses at Clarke’s have nothing but great things to say about her. I found you a better chef than you usually get pillaging the local hotel kitchens—mine included, by the way. She didn’t seem interested in relocating, but she looks so good on paper that I was hoping after a couple weeks down here she might be more open to persuasion. So, what’s the problem?”
Grey chuckled darkly and shook her head. “She’s a redhead. Wild fucking curls, gorgeous fucking hazel eyes, the whole nine yards.”
