Karen Kendall - An Affair to Remember Read online

  “Other staffers remember seeing her yesterday in Naples, but she seems to have been by herself. How do you want to handle this, sir?”

  The déjà vu dug talons into the back of Nick’s neck like a large, hungry vulture preparing to snack on his carcass. Two years ago, on his previous ship, a woman had vanished…but for good reason and with his help.

  But the cloud of unease took a backseat to his need to know that Ariana was safe. She was a lovely young woman, if a little serious and intense. He hated to think of her alone and vulnerable in a city like Naples. Tension coiled in his gut. Where is she?

  Passengers did miss the ship occasionally. But staff? Never. He frowned and looked at his watch.

  “If she’s not back by the time we sail, alert the police, Gideon. Go ahead and write up a missing persons report now, in case we need to file one. This isn’t sitting right with me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Strange things had been happening on board Alexandra’s Dream ever since a stash of stolen antiquities had turned up on their first cruise. The more Nick thought about it, the more the hair on the back of his neck rose.

  The stolen art, a little boy in danger from the Russian mob and now Ariana missing. What is going on aboard my ship?

  Nick didn’t like it, and he knew Elias Stamos, owner of Liberty Line and its parent company, Argosy Cruises, wasn’t going to like it, either. Elias had seen fit to give Nick command of a $425 million luxury liner named after his late wife, Alexandra. Stamos wouldn’t want even a breath of scandal attached to her name, and who could blame him?

  Alexandra’s Dream wasn’t only Elias’s dream, but also her captain’s. She was not the largest cruise ship on the water, but she was one of the most elegant. Nick loved every inch of her, from her massive, deep-blue hull to her polished decks; from her bow to her stern. She rose twelve sumptuous decks high and stretched as long as a city block. She was a beautiful, majestic lady, and wore her necklace of silver and gold stars—the logo of Liberty Line—with pride.

  Alexandra’s Dream had started life as a small and unremarkable American ship, one of three belonging to Liberty. Elias Stamos had purchased all three, renamed them and spared no expense in refurbishing them. He’d done it as a tribute to his late wife and her vision of bringing glamour and sophistication back to cruising.

  This ship did her proud—it was a champagne-and-caviar setting, a true diamond of the first water, thanks in part to the vision of Elias and Alexandra’s younger daughter, Helena.

  But Nick didn’t allow himself to think of Helena. The girl he’d known a lifetime ago was married to someone else, some plumbing heir, of all things. He’d seen the wedding photos in the press a couple of years ago, the ones in which she wore a white gown, fabulous jewels and a hint of sadness in her smile. He’d never thrown away a newspaper so fast.

  As captain of Alexandra’s Dream, Nick was responsible for the health and well-being of 570 crew and 1000 passengers, and every last one of them mattered. He checked his watch again as Gideon left the bridge, all too conscious that the ship was due to depart in less than one hour. Any staff who’d gone ashore should have been back an hour before the passengers.

  The voices of reporters echoed in his head. Had it really been two years since he’d had to resign from his position at Blue Aegean Cruises?

  Captain Pappas, why did you leave port after a passenger was reported missing under suspicious circumstances?

  Rumor has it that she drowned. Is there a cover-up going on, Captain?

  What happened to her, Pappas? Was she murdered? Did you have something to do with it? Did one of your crew?

  Nick, do you have anything to say to the distraught husband? Don’t you owe him an explanation or apology?

  Nick would have loved to deck the guy who’d shouted the last question. If the reporter had been better at his job, he might have stumbled across the truth. But the truth didn’t make such intriguing headlines. The truth was sad, ugly and all too common.

  Nick stared out to sea, at the horizon where water met sky and no land interrupted their broad, endless kiss. He’d done the right thing, even if it had cost him his ship and his reputation.

  He’d protected a woman from harm, from the man who was supposed to cherish her. He’d helped her escape from her own husband. When he’d resigned, he might have lost his position, but he’d kept his integrity, his honor and his conscience intact.

  Those qualities were far more important than anything that could be embroidered on his shoulders.

  Nick’s thoughts returned to Ariana Bennett. The port of Naples stretched before him, a city with a population of over a million. Birthplace of such luminaries as the sculptor Bernini, the opera singer Caruso and the parents of Al Capone, the city had quite a history and was built over a series of catacombs. It was no place for a woman alone to get lost.

  ARIANA DIDN’T return.

  Surrounded by key staffers, Nick reluctantly followed all protocol for departure to Palermo without her. He ordered Gideon to file the police report and compartmentalized his own concerns for her safety.

  Though they no longer sounded the ship’s horn because of noise regulations, hundreds of passengers gathered along the starboard rail on the Helios deck, waving goodbye to Naples and sipping early cocktails.

  For them, the cruise was a wonderful vacation. For Nick, it brought the usual maritime headaches of paperwork, immigration procedures at each port and management issues, though he had help and was lucky in his staff for the most part.

  He had a talented executive chef, Dominique Charest, and an excellent hotel manager, Thanasi Kaldis, with whom he shared a bright and competent assistant, Petra Jones. Patti Kennedy, the cruise director, juggled her responsibilities admirably.

  The only staffer that Nick would happily replace was his first officer, Giorgio Tzekas, whose duties mainly revolved around ship safety. Nick constantly had to check up on him, because the man couldn’t be trusted, which was disconcerting with so many passengers’ lives dependent on Giorgio doing his job. Nick disliked micromanaging people, but in this case he didn’t have a choice.

  Nick would have despised Tzekas even if the first officer hadn’t liked booze too much. He was the sort of rich, pampered malcontent that Pappas couldn’t abide, and he already had too much experience with the man, since Tzekas had held a position on Nick’s last ship, too. It would be no loss if the malaka fell overboard. But Elias had saddled Nick with Giorgio, and wouldn’t hear a word against him.

  Tzekas was the exception to Elias’s usually excellent judgment, but old man Tzekas and Elias went way back, so Giorgio was here to stay despite Nick’s dislike for him.

  He stood on the bridge now with Nick and several other officers, looking bored and subtly checking out female passengers on the Helios deck below them. The broad planes of his handsome face were a little fleshy, his eyes bloodshot. He was beginning to look dissolute.

  “Captain,” he asked, with an all too innocent expression, “do you think we should be leaving port with the ship’s librarian missing?”

  Tzekas knew all about the feeling of déjà vu Nick was experiencing, since Giorgio had been under his command during the scandal. Not having actually seen the abused wife’s bruises and injuries, Tzekas had sided with the husband—and allowed himself to be quoted by the press on the subject.

  If Nick hadn’t resigned, he would have fired the guy for gross insubordination. Giorgio had been stepping more carefully around Nick on Alexandra’s Dream, but he had now crossed the line. The captain couldn’t have him questioning his authority, and especially not in front of other staff.

  “Officer Tzekas,” he said icily. “I will remind you that I am the captain of this ship and it is not a democracy. Not only am I responsible to Liberty Line and the scheduled itinerary, but I am responsible for a thousand passengers. I cannot delay them because one individual has not managed to get herself back aboard. Do I make myself clear?”

  Tzekas was unwise enough t
o push back. “What if Ariana is in trouble, Captain?”

  Nick had spent ten years in the Greek navy, which had taught him military discipline. He gave no sign that he, too, was worried about the librarian. It wasn’t appropriate, and there was still a good chance she would contact them with an explanation for her absence.

  “While I sincerely hope that Ms. Bennett is not at risk, Officer Tzekas, this topic is now closed for discussion,” Nick snapped. “My decisions are not yours to question. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then you are dismissed from the bridge.”

  “Sir?”

  “You heard me.”

  Resentment written all over his face, Tzekas stiffly made his way to the exit.

  “Please make sure that all sports equipment of any kind on board is checked and rechecked. And I’d like your report on the lifeboat drill conducted this morning, Officer. I assume all went smoothly?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Giorgio used his key card to exit the bridge, smoothing back his hair with his free hand. He stopped to chat with an attractive brunette at the end of the hallway, smiling flirtatiously at her as Nick’s mouth tightened.

  She was a staffer, but Nick suspected that Tzekas had more than once violated the iron-clad policy on fraternization with passengers. And if Nick caught him at it, the first officer was gone.

  NICK SNATCHED a few hours’ sleep in his stateroom before heading back to the bridge to read the satellite communications report and tackle a massive amount of paperwork.

  He took the elevator from his deck to the bridge, looking at his watch as the elevator stopped on the Helios deck, one level short of where he needed to be. The doors slid open smoothly and Helena Stamos stood there, a startled expression on her lovely face.

  He’d seen her before now, of course, in passing during the outfitting of the ship and then briefly at the launch party and on Alexandra’s Dream’s third voyage. But she’d always stared coolly at him and kept her distance. He’d done the same, even though the sight of her caused a visceral reaction in him. He would never let her know that. He didn’t like deception, and she’d betrayed what they once had by practicing it. Helena had never told him that she was related to Elias Stamos.

  Nick stared now at Stamos’s younger daughter, unable to turn aside. It was as if the years had dropped away: slight body; shock of dark hair hanging in wisps around her face; slightly Roman nose; full, sensual lips. But it was her fascinating, dramatic, confrontational dark eyes that held him. They turned slightly downward at the outside corners, reaching to greet her quick smile.

  Gemma, her niece, interned in the ship’s children’s center. Nick had remarked silently on how much her demeanor reminded him of Helena, and he’d stayed as far away as possible from the girl.

  A second flash of déjà vu hit him. All he could do was stand there like an oaf, staring at the woman he’d reluctantly walked away from at age twenty-one. He’d been warned off—she was the boss’s barely legal daughter, and he was a lowly deckhand on a freighter.

  She was a woman, now, of course. The sun and the years had framed her down-tilted eyes with faint laugh lines, just as they’d gently bracketed her mouth. But she radiated the same beauty—a more potent, more mature loveliness that tightened his throat. Desire punched him in the solar plexus. Hard.

  He’d always remember her wearing his jacket on the deck of a freighter ship. Today she wore a full, plum-cotton gypsy skirt and an olive camisole. Her hands were on her hips and a dozen gold bracelets jangled on her slim, tanned wrists. Her small feet were encased in flat, black leather ballet slippers.

  She held her chin in the air, but a pulse beat wildly at her throat and she vibrated with nervous tension.

  Nick kept his expression impassive. “Hello, Helena. I didn’t realize you were joining us. Will you be cruising with us for the second part of the Roman Empire tour?”

  She nodded.

  “Ah, well. So far it’s one of our most popular. Our first stop after Palermo is Venice, then Dubrovnik, its former rival…” His voice trailed off as he realized that he sounded like a travel agent doing a hard sell. He cleared his throat. “How are you? You look—beautiful.”

  “How am I?” She expelled a breath, her expression turning ironic. “Oh, I’m just fine, Nick. And you?”

  “Great,” he said inanely, still leaning on the Door Open button.

  “Good.” The space between them resonated with all the words neither of them spoke out loud. Finally he got out of the elevator—he would walk up to the bridge—but she didn’t enter it herself.

  “I saw you only briefly at the launch party,” he said, trying to break the awkward silence.

  “Yes. I wasn’t in a very festive mood, then. I had a lot on my mind. My father was very vocal in his disapproval of my recent divorce.”

  Divorced from that stodgy Greek plumbing heir? Nick’s heart tried to leap into his captain’s hat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What had changed, really? He was no longer a deckhand, but she was still Elias Stamos’s daughter, heiress to millions and completely untouchable—not to mention the fact that she must hate him for disappearing fifteen years ago.

  “I’m sorry to hear of your divorce,” Nick forced himself to say.

  “I’m sorry to speak of it. Ari is a nice man. He didn’t deserve to be abandoned.”

  The subtext in her words screamed at him. I didn’t deserve to be abandoned, either, Nick.

  Helena tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’m not good wife material. Too much Gypsy spirit in me. I never should have let them pressure me—” She broke off, looking miserable and guilty. Then she caught herself and schooled her face into a polite mask once again.

  Them? She must mean that her father had played a role in her marriage, which didn’t surprise Nick. Elias was a traditional man, an overprotective father. He’d have wanted to see both of his daughters settled and taken care of.

  Though he could barely restrain his curiosity, this was none of his business and he did his best to relieve another awkward moment between them. “Do you still sew, Helena? I’ll never forget the Dracula costume.” He laughed, remembering a costume party they’d attended together. She’d effortlessly transformed him into a Transylvanian count instead of the son of an impoverished Greek fisherman.

  Her face lit from within and the bitterness playing around her mouth vanished. “I do—you know I’m a professional now, Nick. I design costumes for theater and ballet productions in London. Sometimes film and opera, too.”

  “Yes, I’d heard that.” He became fascinated as always by the way joy reached for the corners of her eyes. He smiled back at her. “I’m not surprised at all. That costume was a masterpiece. Remember when we won first place in the competition on Mykonos?”

  She nodded. “My first glowing review.” Her gaze swept his face. “And you’ve come a long way, too, Captain Pappas.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I suppose I have.”

  “You had some bad press a while back.”

  He nodded, not sharing details. Not defending himself.

  She fidgeted. “Was any of it true?”

  “It was in all the papers. On every TV station. So it must be true, eh?”

  She shot an evaluative glance at him. “I may not always see eye-to-eye with my father, but he generally doesn’t hire incompetents, cowards or liars.”

  Her words were like a balm. Why didn’t she think the worst of him? “You seem very sure of that.”

  “I am.”

  “To tell you the truth, Helena, I was just as surprised as anyone else when Elias offered me the job. I figured I’d be steering a fishing charter or a banana boat for the rest of my life—that or maybe a third-class freighter.”

  Was it his imagination or had skepticism just crossed her face? But all she said was, “My father’s an excellent judge of character.”

  “And what about you?”

  Helena folded her arms across her chest and turned the toe
s of one foot inward. “I thought I was, once.”

  Fifteen years ago?

  Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes. “But now I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know.”

  His heart contracted. He wanted to reach out, touch her shoulder. Take her into his arms. Tell her he was sorry for ever hurting her. But he couldn’t touch her. It wasn’t fair to either of them. The past is the past, and there is no future. Keep your hands to yourself, Nick.

  “I have to go,” she said, blinking rapidly and turning on her heel. She pushed the button for the elevator to return.

  He took a step toward her, then another. She whirled and they stood chin-to-chest for a moment. He could smell her hair, a citrusy floral shampoo, and it made something inside him contract and ache.

  Then Nick sidestepped and buttoned formality around himself like a coat. “I’m…glad we had a chance to say hello. Enjoy your cruise.”

  She swallowed. “I really just came to check on Gemma for my sister, Katherine. Make sure she’s okay and staying out of trouble. That’s all.”

  He nodded, though he had his doubts. Had Elias sent his daughter to check up on Nick, after the odd incidents that had happened on board? That seemed unlikely, but he couldn’t help feeling suspicious. “Good of you. Then you’ve settled into one of the penthouse suites? Is everything satisfactory?”

  “Yes, thank you. It’s all perfect.”

  “Let me know if you need anything, Helena.”

  The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, then turned back to look at him. “Of course, Nick.”

  He was aware, once again, of the volumes of unspoken words that stood between them, but for now they’d leave those volumes unopened.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HELENA SANK onto the bed in her penthouse suite, weak after her encounter with Nick Pappas. His scent remained with her—the clean starch of his white uniform; the Seville orange and musk of his aftershave and the potent, masculine essence of his warm skin.