Page 12 of Under the Radar

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Mac Mackenzie stood with his back to the passengers watching data blip across the screen as each person scanned their Float & Go card. The line deepened by the minute while people with smaller suitcases and carry-on bags passed through this final security checkpoint to enter the ship. This was Mac’s sixth embarkation in three weeks. He’d promised his father that he’d review the security procedures for each cruise liner, and this ship was last on the list.

It wasn’t a hardship. He loved the open water, the hum of a massive engine rumbling beneath his feet, and the vacation industry as a whole. He’d enjoyed his first cruise at age five and had sailed dozens of times.

The crew on this ship was, mostly, crisp and professional. If the new employee working with him today would quit looking to Mac for approval, they’d get these people on board quicker. He tapped the newbie on the shoulder.

“Don’t look at me. You’re supposed to watch the screen and make sure that each face matches the person entering the ship. Ignore me,” he clipped. The young man nodded his head vigorously and got back to work.

Mac resumed his post and eyed the screen again. Beep. Beep. Beep. The chatter of excited vacationers increased in volume. Toddlers cried in the distance, and a man and woman argued over whether they’d closed the garage door.

Beep. A familiar name flashed on the screen, and Mac looked again. No way. He waited for more passengers to clear until he turned around. It was her. He’d recognize that profile anywhere. He’d kissed every square inch of that beautiful face. Mac glanced at her feet. Jimmy Choos. It was definitely Mo Reardon toting two carry-ons, just like his screen read. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter as she meandered between two gargoyle pillars and disappeared into the velvet luxury of the cruise liner.

Well now, wasn’t he the lucky one? An overpowering bolt of potent lust coursed through his body. Maureen Reardon. He’d been in and out of the country since the morning he’d left her sleeping in his hotel suite looking like a satisfied feline.

She still hadn’t replied to any of his texts. His phone calls went straight to voicemail. Never figuring her for a one-night stand, he’d called his cell provider to make sure his phone was working, and to see if her number was in service. Yes, and yes. His little cupcake had most likely blocked him.

Nonetheless, he’d run the obligatory background check on her as he had with any of the women he’d dated. Working with Sanctuary, Inc. required it. His livelihood depended on the ability to trust those he allowed into his life. The dossier he’d assembled on her when they’d first met suggested she was a competent woman and a community activist for the betterment of children. She’d had only one serious previous relationship—very hush-hush, with her father’s lead counsel, which lasted six months. She hadn’t used a sick day in two years, and he knew from conversations with her that she abhorred social media and loved kids. Alrighty then.

Mo definitely didn’t have feelings for him though, judging by the lack of response to the texts and messages he’d left on her phone.

Why was she cruising on his ship? She could’ve borrowed her father’s jet and flown anywhere in the world. Maybe she enjoyed cruising? Maybe. She had mentioned being a beach lover, but this cruise didn’t cater to clientele seeking only beach destinations. All the ports of call were tourist traps with educational excursions. This was an odd cruise for a single woman with no kids.

What if she wasn’t alone? Damn. If he was stuck on a ship with the most captivating woman he’d ever met and she was with someone else? He’d have to disembark in Miami. And he’d damn well check the stateroom assignments to find out if she was traveling alone.

For now, Mac would stay behind the scenes and watch her. Watching wouldn’t be a hardship at all. The woman was a goddess with a quick wit and what he’d perceived as a good heart. He’d forever remember the encounter that led to their one night together when he asked her to have a drink at the bar with him as Ethan and Tia’s wedding ended.

“After that tango, Mac, I’d prefer to have you to myself somewhere private. Maybe a back booth in a quiet diner?” There was a hint of dare in her challenging, her cool grey eyes and an alluring smile on her lips that made her irresistible. And let’s face it, he’d wanted time alone with her ever since the night of the rehearsal dinner when she’d whooped his ass at the pool table.

So, did he do the smart thing and walk away? No. Mac hauled her beautiful pink-gowned self into his arms and kissed her. Not hard and fast. He made sure it was slow and torturous. A kiss she’d remember. She tasted like Piña coladas and lemon-filled wedding cake. Every cell in his body clamored for more, so he’d double-dipped and went back for a second taste. By the third kiss, they melded together like gooey s’mores and the bartender barked something about getting a room.

Good idea.

Sometime during the night, Mo Reardon had captured a piece of his soul.

He doubted he’d ever get it back.

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