The Boss and Her Billionaire (18 page)

She nodded, and he felt her eyes on his back as he left to catch a separate ferry.

…

That night they met surreptitiously in Michaela’s stateroom. She had tidied every corner, plumping the pillows and folding the towels just so. “You sure get better treatment than we do. These towels are

amazing,” he said.

“I begged the fluffiest ones from housekeeping. Said I was sunburned,” she told him with a smirk.

“It even smells better up here.”

“Essential oil.”

“Pulling out all the stops, eh?” He didn’t think he’d have anything left in him after their long day of lovemaking and the two performances, but as she wrapped her arms around him, he felt a stirring below his waist. Maybe he was the insatiable one. The two of them fell back onto her bed.

Out of the blue, Dylan wondered what touches she’d add to his apartment.

None, you dope. She wouldn’t add anything because she’d never see it.

He kissed her to distract himself.

“I didn’t think you’d have the energy,” she said.

“I didn’t either. But who can stand in the way off all this fun?”

There it was again—that look. Dylan hoped there wasn’t something she hadn’t told him, some deep hurt

that he might be tapping into by insisting they keep their affair light.

We discussed this. She knows I’m leaving in three months.

“Okay?” he asked, just to check. He tweaked one of her s and grinned cheekily to try and remove the

tension.

She slapped playfully at him, and the smile on her face wasn’t forced, so he grabbed her hands and

pulled them over her head, pinning her to the bed.

“Careful,” she said, but he could tell her struggles were only for show.

Their lovemaking was delicious that night, and over the next days and weeks they grew to know each

other’s bodies intimately. He let her know about the spot on his wrist where he would melt if she put her mouth to it and nibbled her way up his arm, and he discovered the soft skin just beneath her ear

where he could blow hot air and make her his instantly.

On the rare nights that Dylan slept in his own stateroom, he flicked through his time with Michaela in his mind. His picture of her was growing clearer and clearer, and now when he slept she wasn’t far from his dreams. Her face appeared as it had in Vanuatu their first time together: free of makeup, glistening with seawater and with that smile—a smile that threatened to destroy his usual commitment-phobia.

This was not part of the plan. Dylan had escaped the few relationships that had looked like they might get serious with the excuse that he needed to focus on the company, yet here was a woman whose list

of good attributes grew daily and who made him feel like he could do anything. Maybe even leave the

corporate world and keep dancing.

Don’t be a fool.

Long-term love was impossible. Lily and Brian, his mother and father—everyone he knew in a long-term

relationship had ended up unhappy. Someone always loves more, and someone always gets hurt, he

reminded himself.

Michaela would never hurt me.

When he was with her, he experienced a glimmer of something new. His heart felt lighter, his shoulders less tense.

But it was the three-month break, wasn’t it? His break from reality.

What if it’s something more? he wondered more than once.

So what if it was? Three months was three months. He’d deal with what else this was—if anything—at

the end of that time.

No promises, no commitments. They’d both agreed on that.

A week later, the ship stopped at Norfolk Island. Few cruise ships visited the Australian protectorate, and even the Pacific Empress had trouble making it into port because of rough seas and shallow waters.

But one sunny morning Michaela found herself strolling hand in hand with Dylan next to the ruins of old Australian penal colony buildings. With someone to enjoy exploring with, she now made time to get

ashore more often.

“Wow,” she said. “Imagine being locked up here. What a view they must have had—and what a wicked

temptation to escape. The water is like blue glass.”Dylan smiled. “I can lock you up if you like. Is that what you’re really saying? You’d like to be my prisoner with only a view of the sea and me to look at?”

He pinned her against the warm sandstone wall with her wrists spread wide and pressed his body up

against hers.

“Dylan, the passengers,” Michaela said, struggling ineffectively against his strong grip and the solid form of his body.

“They’ve all gone on the tour buses,” he said, not even bothering to look behind him.

Michaela looked around quickly and discovered he was right, but she only allowed him one deep,

delicious kiss before she wriggled so much he set her free.

“I don’t think they would have had much time to appreciate the view,” he said as he took her hand again and they continued walking, this time toward the small beach. “They would have been working every

hour possible.”

“You think?” Michaela tried to picture what life might have been like on this isolated island a hundred years ago.

“I know. I read up about it before we came. It would have been a hard slog out here. The island’s not very big, and its resources would have been limited. Even now they have to rely on a generator to

provide power for the whole island, and there’s not enough grass to farm cows or much livestock. Food must have been pretty hard to come by back then.”

“Except for fish,” she stated, pointing toward the spectacular spread of ocean and the many fishing

boats dotting in the sea in front of them.

“Yep, except for fish,” he agreed. “But I think I’d go mad if I only ate fish. You seem to like them, though.

Maybe you are a fish.” Smiling, he lifted her up and deposited her in the ocean, drenching the shirt she’d thrown over her swimsuit.

They spent a leisurely morning in and out of the crystalline water, Dylan stealing kisses, Michaela

constantly aware that a passenger could come across them at any moment. After they’d had their fill of the water, they walked up the hill and strolled through the small town, enjoying lunch at one of the

many cafés before renting bikes and cycling out to the headlands on the other side of the island.

“Oh, look, a wedding.” Below them, a small party stood on the beach. The bride’s white veil flew

dramatically in the wind, and the groom laughed, helping with her skirts. “Don’t they look happy?” she asked, turning to Dylan. His stony gaze was not what she expected.

“I wish them the very best,” he said.

“Do you know them or something?”

Dylan looked down at the couple and their friends. “No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

He looked at her with all the wild energy of the ocean in his eyes. “I don’t believe in marriage.”

“At all?”

“At all.”

She remembered him saying something along those lines when she’d overheard him talking to Brian. “Is

there something else you haven’t told me?” Michaela put a nervous hand to her mouth. “You said you

weren’t married—that you’d never been married.”

“No. Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that. I haven’t lied to you.” He took her hand away from her mouth and kissed it.“What, then?”

He took a breath and released her. “It’s nothing. I just don’t believe in marriage. Someone always loves more, and someone always gets hurt. Look at my brother and Lily. She’s always loved him, and what has it gotten her? Heartache and frustration.”

“What about your parents?”

“My father died when I was young. That’s why we’ve been involved with the business. When he died, it

almost killed Mom. No. I don’t do marriage.”

Michaela bit her lip. Okay, she didn’t really need the white frock. But what about long-term? What

about love?

“Besides, you know I have to leave.”

She nodded, and the pause lengthened.

“There’s more to life than running a cruise ship, anyway,” he said gently. “What do you want to do next?

You could live here if you wanted to. You’ve said how beautiful it is about a dozen times.”

She tried answering his question with one of her own. “What do you want to do? Are you sure you want

to run your family company for the rest of your life?”

“I’m not sure. After this experience, I’d love to dance more. But I can’t at the moment. I’m needed back home, and until that changes I’m stuck there.”

The concrete reappeared in Michaela’s chest. He’d never promised more than three months, and the

longer she was with him, the more she was at risk. Everything was changing for her, but not for Dylan.

She wanted to yell at him, to open her chest and show him the mess he was making of her heart. Even

her head couldn’t help getting swept away with dreams and fantasies—and all the while Dylan Johns

was simply having fun.

Even if she waited for him to sort out his company, there were no guarantees he’d want her. Rejected, her heart would collapse in on itself, irrevocably broken, and he’d carry on with his life without a second glance.

Stop it, Michaela Western.

But it was too late. She couldn’t help herself. She was hooked, just like the fish out in the bay below them.

The day ended without any drama, and in the company of passengers Michaela and Dylan kept their

distance.

Back on board, Dylan’s cell buzzed. He scanned the message quickly. “Damn it.”

“More trouble with Brian?” Michaela asked.

He nodded. “I’m sorry, but when we get into Auckland, I’m going to have to go and sort this out.”

“Of course. I’ll go to a spa or something. Don’t worry.” Michaela forced out a bright smile.

It was already happening. There was still almost a month left of his three months, but already Dylan

Johns was leaving her.

…

As the passengers disembarked in Auckland, Michaela wondered what she would do for the next three

days. It would be nice to spend a little bit of time on land, though. She’d been feeling a bit seasick of late, the first time in years. It happened as you got older, she’d heard. You started to be more

susceptible to the ebb and flow of the ocean against the ship.

“I’ll see you in three days,” Dylan said as he walked down the ramp to shore. “And I’ll ring you.” He held up the cell he’d made Michaela program her number into.

Despite her disappointment at being without Dylan, she found that she did enjoy herself. A number of

harborside bars provided a fine array of food and drink, and the days whizzed past. The spa she booked into was wonderful. Freshly pummeled, oiled, and smelling divine, Michaela sighed into her hotel bed at night. The days ashore had been a perfect rest and just what she needed. Her nausea seemed to have

lessened a lot.

On the third and final day of her shore leave while she was having breakfast on her hotel balcony,

Michaela’s phone buzzed. Answering it, she heard a woman’s Australian twang on the other end of the

line.

“Is that Michaela Western?”

“It is.”

“Hi there. It’s Helen Grady here, from head office. Glad I finally tracked you down. We’ve been sending you e-mails the last couple of days.”

“Sorry, I’ve been on shore leave. We’re not due to leave until later tonight. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine. But I have a rather interesting proposition for you.”

Michaela waited, expecting a new comedian or perhaps a famous writer. They sometimes came

onboard to give lectures and teach workshops.

“One of the girls here is leaving, and we’d like to offer you the position.”

Michaela started. A job in head office?

“There wouldn’t be the same sort of travel as you’re used to, although you would get to travel a little bit to view and book new acts. But you’d be making a significant amount more money. It would be based in

our Sydney office.”

“Sydney?”

“Yeah, it’s great over here. You’ve been, haven’t you?” Helen asked.

“A few years ago now.” It had been wonderful. The long stretch of Bondi Beach so close to the hustle of the city center, the multinational markets with amazing food and incredible flavors. Sydney.

Sydney! Dylan said he’d been most recently based in Sydney. Maybe his family firm had business there.

They might be able to have a long-distance thing, weekends or something that didn’t get in the way of work. “It’s an awfully tempting offer,” Michaela said.

“I know it’s a little out of the blue, and it’s entirely irregular for me to be offering a position like this, but it’s just the timing. We really need someone right now, and everyone knows what an amazing job you

do onboard.”

Taking a head office job would certainly be a change. A change and a step up. It would fit into her five-year plan. And being with Dylan the past few weeks had shown her life was for living—every moment.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Michaela crossed her fingers for luck and blurted out, “Yes. Yes, please.”

“Wow. Great. I didn’t think you’d decide so quickly. Works for me, though. I’ll e-mail you more details, and we can start getting things rolling.”

“Sounds good,” Michaela said, thinking about how she’d break the news to Dylan.he streets of Auckland seemed drab compared to the bright colors of the Pacific that Dylan had grown used to. As various gray buildings merged into each other through the taxi window, Dylan felt their solidity settle over his heart, making it heavy. He felt old suddenly. If only Michaela were with him…

No. Drawing her into this chaos wouldn’t be fair.

Almost in a daze, he paid the cab driver, climbed the steps of the building, and moved through doors

and down hallways until he was at his mother’s bedside.

The future he’d seen onboard was a fanciful dream, just like the glossy cruise pamphlets promised. But it was simply that—a dream. He’d glimpsed what his life might have been like if he’d taken a different path, if dancing had been his profession rather than mergers and acquisitions. A life of travel, of