One Charmed Christmas - Sheila Roberts Page 0,18

Rudy.

She gave that lovely, shoulder-length hair a flip, crossed those slim, probably varicose-vein-free legs and leaned forward. “What’s the most interesting case you ever had?” she asked him.

Oh, brother, Catherine thought in disgust. She wasn’t interested in remarrying or even in having a shipboard romance, not with what she had waiting for her after the holidays. So, really, she shouldn’t have been bothered by the conversation getting snatched from her. She’d certainly never thought of herself as insecure or the jealous type. But watching this young interloper in action, she felt both. Honestly, the girl was way too young for Rudy. Who’d invited these two to the party, anyway? Oh, yes, her.

* * *

Athena’s eyes narrowed as she listened while Sophie the shopper grilled her father about his medical career. Next she’d be wanting to know about his 401(k) and his California real estate investments.

Athena was sure she could get rid of Sophie easily enough by pointing out the age difference between her and Daddy. He’d learned his lesson with that misalliance. And this woman was even younger than Nicole had been, for heaven’s sake.

But the two older women were another matter. Denise was obviously on the hunt. Athena could tell by the way she’d looked at Daddy when they first entered the lounge. She was in great shape for someone her age, but that red hair. Really? Obviously dyed. Still, Athena had to admit, it looked good on her. It was thick and she wore it short and sassy. Daddy wasn’t that into redheads, though, thank God.

Catherine was a little on the plump side but she had one of those sweet faces that made you think she’d be a good neighbor, the kind who watched your house when you were gone and brought over freshly baked banana bread. Yes, she was a stealth hunter, good at disguise. She wasn’t dressed to kill, just wearing a red turtleneck top and boring black slacks to send out the signal that flashy clothes weren’t important. She was keeping her agenda well hidden, pretending to be only mildly interested in Daddy. Her hair was chin length and slightly curly. And blond. Fading and shot with silver, but blond, nonetheless. Daddy had a thing for blondes, and this one was the right age for him. Ugh.

She’d made sure Daddy knew she was a widow. Yes, very clever, very sneaky. She was the one Athena would have to watch out for. She was looking for a second husband with a fat wallet.

She could look all she wanted but she couldn’t touch. Athena would make sure of it. Her father had suffered enough heartbreak and no way was she going to let that happen to him again.

* * *

Well, damn. The hottie Trevor had spotted when he first came on the boat was already surrounded by people. And here he was all aftershaved and spiffed up and ready to make a good impression.

Who was that old dude she was talking to? No, not talking to. Flirting with. He watched as she flipped her hair and smiled at the guy. Okay, Trevor had to admit that he looked good for somebody who had to be at least sixty—George Clooney hair, good physical condition—but still the man was old enough to be her father. Trevor noticed that the woman sitting on the other side of him didn’t look happy. Worried about competition, maybe.

“There you are.”

He turned to see Harriet approaching.

He felt as if he’d swallowed a rock and it was sitting there in his gut. Was this how an animal felt when it was cornered?

“Hey, Harriet,” he said, trying for a tone that was polite yet discouraging.

“We’re all sitting over there.” She pointed across the lounge to a group of chairs along one of the windows, by the grand piano. Hugh was slouched in one, and there was his tagalong, the giggler, along with two other guys. Kurt was nowhere to be seen. And now, Trevor was going to be nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, catch you later,” he said, then turned and went back the way he’d come. When it came time for dinner he was going to make sure he was seated nowhere near the tables of the German 201 class. Kurt was on his own because Trevor was determined to talk to the hot mystery woman.

4

By six o’clock the lounge was packed with happy cruisers, all styled for winter in long pants and sweaters, many celebrating the season, wearing red or green. One man wore a

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