Page 90 of Obsessed Heir

The guard’s shrill whistle splits the air, catching everyone’s attention. “Maiden coming through.” He waves a hand forward.

Comments follow us as people move aside.

“Hey, it’s the Maiden.”

“The Maiden.”

“Oh, where is she?”

“Thank you.” I give him an appreciative smile, grateful to make it on board without mishap.

He gives a single nod, not breaking the hard expression. “Hold it,” he says after he lets me by.

“He’s the ship’s doctor, Doctor Stein,” I explain.

“Go ahead.” The security lets him go by.

The doctor gives a wry smile. “I guess you have the right connections.”

“I don’t know about that,” I murmur, putting my phone and card in the container before moving through the scanner.

“You didn’t buy anything?” Doctor Stein asks, as we clear the security area.

The passengers coming aboard are loaded with shopping bags, while I have nothing.

“No, I just needed to stretch my legs.” It’s the first plausible excuse I can come up with, but it seems to satisfy his curiosity.

“Can we get a selfie with the Maiden?” a guy calls out as the doctor and I navigate through the crowded walkway toward the private elevator.

I turn to find two men, who have obviously been drinking, grinning widely at me.

“Sure,” I reply, pasting on a polite smile then turn to Doctor Stein, offering an apologetic expression. “Could you spare a minute?”

“I can go on ahead if?—”

“Would you mind waiting?” I glance toward the guy and his friend. I’d rather he thinks I’m asking him to stay because of them than admit my true concern is who might be waiting upstairs. “Please?”

He catches my underlying meaning and acknowledges it with a brief look of understanding, stepping aside to let people pass. “I’ll wait here for you.”

I retrace my steps to the two fans and stand between them. One stretches his arm out and takes several selfies from different angles, pulling me snugly against his side.

The other leans in entirely too close behind me. His hot beer breath brushes my neck as he looks over my shoulder at the image being captured.

Done, he turns to me, his gaze roving my face with unadorned interest.

“Hey thanks, beautiful.” He grins, focusing on my mouth. “Can I tag you on this?”

He holds up his phone, the picture he took already showing me plastered between them, trying not to appear uncomfortable.

“You can tag the cruise line,” I suggest, untangling myself from the situation and putting some distance between us as I rejoin the doctor.

“But how about you, sweetheart?” the guy persists, undeterred. “I wanna remember that gorgeous face.”

“I’ll see it there.” Ignoring anything else, I give a curt wave as we continue on our way.

“You’ve become quite the popular fixture on this ship,” he comments mildly once we’re out of earshot. He uses his key card to call the elevator.

I’ve been killing time, trying to keep a low profile. Which, thanks to Holly’s plan, hasn’t been easy.

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