Page 60 of Viking Vengeance Cruise

“I absolutely do,” she says as she hurries past whoever’s approaching. “Good night!”

Subtle as a marching band, that one.

A towel drops onto the bench beside me. I look up, and the most handsome man I’ve ever met sinks into the water next to me while my brain files for a brief leave of absence. It’s not the first time he’s caused it, and my brain has accepted this as an occupational hazard.

Ransom is clad in navy swim trunks, his dark hair damp from the shower, and water droplets slide down his chest on a route that should probably be illegal.

Handsome Ransom, punctual as ever and dressed to distract. His eyes catch the underwater lights as he settles beside me, close enough that our legs touch.

“I didn’t mean to chase her off.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. “I didn’t realize you two were alone.”

“You didn’t chase her off.” I twist to face him and press a kiss to his lips. “I did. I was asking about her past, and she’s not ready to talk about it yet.”

“Did you get any new information?”

“Just that she’s definitely running from something and definitely not ready to tell us what.” I settle back against him. His heart beats steady beneath my ear. “Did you get anything from the coroner?”

His arm tightens around me, and I feel him frown even though I can’t see his face. He stares out at the dark water and goes quiet. I know that pause. It’s the sound of a man deciding how much his wife will pry out of him later.

Answer? All of it. He knows it, I know it, and somewhere the coroner probably knows it too.

“It’s been confirmed,” he says finally. “Astrid Storm was poisoned. The blue cocktail was laced with enough toxin to kill her within minutes.”

Poisoned. The word lands in the steam between us and refuses to evaporate. Suddenly the hot water doesn’t feel quite so soothing.

“What kind of toxin?”

“How about we leave it at that,” he murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I’ll give you the rest of the details in the morning. For now, let’s enjoy our night.”

Spoken like a man who knows exactly how tomorrow morning will go. Bless him for pretending otherwise. I’m already assembling my arsenal. Coffee, cinnamon rolls, and the aforementioned womanly wiles. The man doesn’t stand a chance, and the best part is, he doesn’t want one.

He tilts my chin up and kisses me properly, and I forget all about murders and ornery ghosts and mysterious new friends with secrets they’re not ready to share. The movie plays on in the background, the bubbling jets massage away the tension of the day, and somewhere above us the stars are doing their thing.

And for now, wrapped in my husband’s arms with the sea stretching black and endless around us, it’s more than enough.

Tomorrow, the toxin.

Tonight, the man.

CHAPTER 15

Suddenly Hitched—What a Trip!

Dear Trixie,

It’s me again, and I messed up.

Yesterday my daughter’s ex texted. Long message about how he “misses her” and his new relationship “made him realize what they had.” He wants to meet and “talk about giving things another chance.”

She showed me and asked what I thought. I panicked and told her he sounded scared of being alone, that he had his chance and shouldn’t even respond.

She got quiet.

“You don’t think he genuinely realized he made a mistake?” I said, “Do you really want to marry someone who needed to date someone else to figure out he wanted you?”

She hasn’t really talked to me since.

This morning she mentioned texting him back, and when I started to respond she said, “I know what you think, Mom. I heard you the first time.”