Page 8 of Billionaire's Surprise

“Would you prefer a buffet?” I asked, concerned I hadn’t taken that into consideration. “I apologize. I should have asked what you wanted to do for dinner. We can leave.”

“Fraser,” she said, a small smile playing at the corner of her luscious mouth. “It’s fine. I was just making an observation. Besides, apparently, the captain will be coming to eat with us. It would be rude to abandon him.”

“He’s late,” I pointed out. “So really, who’s being rude here?”

“That would be me,” a voice said from behind me. “Fray, at least, allow me to apologize before you ruin my reputation with a beautiful woman.”

I stood and shook hands with Captain Jacob Pryor. He’d grayed quite a bit since I’d seen him last, and I’d have to remember to tease him about it later. I introduced Emerson, and we all sat.

“So, you two know each other?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jacob said. “We met a few years ago when Fray helped with the ship’s design. He wanted the captain to have input—which is smart but pretty much unheard of. That’s why he’s the best.”

“The best what, exactly?” she asked. “I thought you and your family built high rises.”

“Among other things. High rises aren’t our only business. Specifically, I’m an architect,” I told her. “Lately, I’ve done a lot of the business stuff for the firm, but design is where I started and where my heart lies.” I poured her a glass of champagne. “Enough talk about my job. Let’s not bore Emerson, Jacob. Besides, it’s Christmas, and we’re on holiday.”

Jacob nodded, but before he could say anything, the waiter came to take our orders. After the white-coated server departed, Jacob pulled Emerson into a conversation.

“Sir?” I heard from my left.

I turned, surprised to find the porter had come to find me in the dining room.

“Yes, Marco?”

“There’s a problem with the bed.” He crouched beside me and shot a quick glance toward the captain who’d noticed the porter’s arrival. Jacob’s eyes narrowed slightly at the breach in protocol.

“The brackets appear to be broken,” Marco continued. “We’re unable to separate them.”

“That’s unacceptable,” I hissed. “This will look orchestrated.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry. There are no vacant rooms on the ship. I contacted maintenance. They took a look, but they can’t fix it without making the situation worse.”

Worse? What would be worse? No bed at all? Damn it.

“So I’m not sure how you’d like me to proceed.” He looked worried, and he should be. I’d sworn not to force Emerson to share a bed with me.

“Can you supply a cot?” I glanced over to see Emerson laughing at something Jacob had said to her, and I couldn’t help smiling, despite my frustration.

“Well, no, sir. There’s no way to secure a cot.”

I turned back to him and sighed.

“Fine. Please provide extra bedding, and I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Somehow. It wasn’t exactly man-sized for sleeping. Maybe Em and I should depart the ship at the first port and I could fly her someplace romantic—and water-free.

“I truly am sorry,” he said, standing back upright.

“It’s not your fault,” I assured him. There was no point in getting angry with the young man. He wasn’t in control of these things. But I did worry about Emerson’s reaction. I’d promised her separate beds, and now, instead of being apart but close to her at night, I’d be in a completely different room. I’d spent a small fortune on this cruise, only to sleep on a couch. So far, this scheme wasn’t going well. So much for best laid plans and all that.

“Is there anything else, sir?” Marco asked.

“Yes, actually.” I stood, taking a few steps from the table where I slid a fifty into his palm. “Thank you for ensuring the gifts were deposited where I requested. Did the wrapped parcels make it aboard?”

“They did,” Marco assured me. “On Christmas morning, we’ll have them arranged beneath the tree while you and Ms. Blake are at the sunrise breakfast.”

Right. The Christmas morning breakfast on a balcony practically hanging over the ocean. The one I absolutely wouldn’t force her to attend.

“There may be a change to our morning activities that day,” I told him. “Can you have them delivered while we’re on the excursion Christmas Eve instead?”

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