Page 3 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

Ransom and I started our honeymoon last night as the leaf peeping tour up the Eastern Seaboard ended, and this cruise, the transatlantic adventure, began (both occurring within hours of each other) and we’ve yet to leave our cabin.

My eyes flit back to that window where I stare up at the orange glowing sky. “But I swear I saw someone,” I insist, squinting against the glare. “There was a woman, peering right in.”

It’s true. Right in the middle of getting hot and heavy with my new husband, I happened to open my eyes in that direction and spotted what I thought was a redhead peering in at us.

The horror! I’ve never been more mortified in my life.

Ransom’s hands slide down to my waist as he turns me to face him. His touch leaves a trail of warmth that makes me forget about any mysterious redheaded peeping Toms.

“It’s impossible,” he says just above a whisper as we snuggle close underneath the sheets. “Unless she sprouted wings or learned to walk on water. We’re facing the open sea.”

“I know, that’s what’s so strange. Maybe she’s a mermaid?” I tease, running my fingers along his chest. Before we met, Ransom had quite the reputation as a ladies’ man. And now? Well, let’s just say I’m the only lady in his orbit. “Heaven knows that all the females on dry land aren’t happy that you’re off the market. I’d venture to guess the girls below the waterline aren’t too thrilled either.”

“A mermaid?” A gentle laugh rumbles from his chest to mine. “I don’t think you need to be worried about competition from on land or the sea.”

“Good,” I say, dotting his lips with a kiss. “Because I don’t like to share my toys.”

Ransom growls out a laugh as he runs heated kisses up and down my neck, garnering a growl of a laugh from me, too.

TheEmerald Queen of the Seasset sail yesterday for a ten-day transatlantic cruise.

Ten glorious days I plan to spend right here in this deluxe honeymoon suite with my shiny, new, far too delicious husband. Nothing but room service, ocean views, and Ransom Courtland Baxter on an endless loop.

The thought makes me giddy—or maybe that’s just the gentle roll of the ship beneath us. Most likely both.

I lean back to admire him—tall, jet-black hair, with a body that could turn any and every saint into a sinner. And those blue eyes of his are enough to make all the cobalt on the planet green with envy. But boy, how they have the power to melt me. Every ounce of Ransom has the power to do just that.

“You’re staring again,” he murmurs, nuzzling his kisses up toward my ear.

“Can you blame me? I did just marry the most eligible bachelor on the high seas.” I trace a finger down his chest once again. “Although I suppose you’re not eligible anymore.”

“Oh honey.” A low growl of a laugh emits from him. “I haven’t been on the eligible list since the day I met you,” he says, and my heart does a little flip.

Even after all this time, he still has that effect on me. And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon.

It’s still surreal how we got here. A year ago, I was just another jilted wife who escaped to the high seas after catching my ex in a compromising position—or three. Come to think of it, there were probably more. Now I’m living my second chance at happily ever after, complete with three of the best friends a girl could ask for who just so happen to live on this ship as well. Sure, there were a few bumps along the way—including the fact the captain, our good friend Wes, had thrown his hat into the romantic ring—but my heart knew where it belonged.

A glint from the sun catches my wedding ring and sends rainbow prisms glittering across the walls. I’m still getting used to the weight of it, the way it catches the light, and the heartfelt promise it represents.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look in the morning?” Ransom’s voice drops to a lower register, which makes my knees weak. “And in the late afternoon? And I can’t forget the evening.”

A round of giggles bubbles from me. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Is that so, Mrs. Baxter?” His lips find that tender spot below my ear. “Nothing is going to tear me away from you,” he murmurs, and my toes curl just hearing it.

The scent of his cologne mingles with the ocean breeze, and just like that, I forget about the broken curtain rod entirely when an ornery chirp that sounds like a woodpecker cuts through the silence—aka his phone.

Ransom pauses for a moment and I can feel his muscles tense against me before he resumes his attention right where it belongs—on my neck.

The phone trills again—or pecks for that matter—and this time it sounds twice as insistent as it was before.

His arm moves back and I do my best to reel it in.

“Don’t,” I warn as his body tenses once again. “Whatever it is, it can’t be important.”

“I’m sure it’s not.” He winces. “But that’s the security desk trying to get ahold of me. It’s the only one I’ve dedicated that annoying sound to.”

“I guess if duty calls.” A heavy sigh escapes me as I pat his chest. “I bet it’s Quinn asking where you put the stapler.”

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