Page 91 of Obsessed Heir

“A bit. Apparently, people are curious about the Maiden.”

He leans against the wall, a hand resting casually on the railing as he studies me. “I’m sure it’s more than them wanting to know about the cruise line.”

“Well, I did get a few questions that almost made me make up a fake boyfriend to discourage them.”

“You don’t say,” he replies in a tone filled with understanding.

“I tried to keep things focused on the cruise itself, and what I could about the Maiden.”

“Smart girl,” he says with approval in his voice. “The wisest thing you can do is redirect away from yourself and your private life.”

“So I’ve been told.” I look up at him through my lashes. Yes, I heard a thing or two about his own exploits while I was getting my hair done this morning.

He tilts his head down, hiding a grin. His manner of avoidance is relying on silence.

“Luckily, I read through the website before coming on board. The rest came from listening to Holly and Barron answer similar questions.” Most importantly, I avoided answering personal questions and ones dealing with Barron.

Is he single?

Several women were curious about his status. Even a particularly flamboyant man tried picking my brain.

I heard he’s married.

It took a bit, but it sounds like people may have thought Miss Opal, or Mrs. McClelland, was his wife instead of his mother. Since he doesn’t want to share about his life, I should suggest she go by Miss Opal.

Is it true Barron and Bronwyn O’Neal are hooking up?

I played dumb, but that question has been bouncing around in my head. Bronwyn’s comment from earlier left me wondering.So, this is where you went when you left me last night?Is that where he was? With her?

The elevator doors slide open. I lead the way, pointedly ignoring the table in front of the mirror. The door looms ahead. My heart’s beating harder as we get closer, not knowing what I’ll find.

I hold the medallion up to the sensor then plug in the number, letting us into the suite. “I’ll run and see if Miss Opal is here.”

“No need to run,” he replies as we walk in. “I wouldn’t mind the company of a beautiful woman for a few more minutes.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Barron

“Tea? From a can?” Mother asks, her tone appalled. “Obviously you’ve been away from home for too long, Son.”

I shut my eyes, silently asking for patience to deal with my mother after everything that happened today. I should have known better than to just rattle off a list of what we have available without thinking about her sensibilities. “Ginger ale, then.”

“That’s fine, I suppose,” she allows with a resigned sigh, her features pinched in disapproval.

Ginger ale, it is. I retrieve the drink from the refrigerator, holding it up for her inspection. “Got it.”

“In a glass, Barron,” she chides, as if I’d actually consider serving it to her straight from the can. “Honestly, darling.”

“Of course, Mother,” I reply evenly, biting back the urge to protest that I haven’t completely forgotten how to be a properhost, despite her obvious doubts. I’m not sure how Abigail can deal with her every day.

I catch myself glancing down the hallway out of habit, looking for any sign of Abigail even though I know she isn’t there. She may have gone on shore after our confrontation in the entryway.

My jaw ticks with renewed irritation over the memory. I should have chosen a better time to bring up her future with the family rather than immediately after…well, after giving in to my baser urges in a moment of unbridled passion and desire.

But, in my defense, I wasn’t thinking straight at that point, thanks to the feel of her lush curves filling my hands. I turn away from recalling the intimate moments we shared, or I’ll end up needing to adjust myself.

I pull a glass from the cupboard and return to where Mother is settled on the couch. I pop open the top and am carefully pouring her drink when the security panel beeps.

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