Rudy first she’d have been very happy hanging out with Trevor. But she had met Rudy. She’d made up her mind, knew what she wanted, and she was going to make sure she got it. Or rather, him.
“Thanks for protecting me from the ghost,” she said as they stood in front of her stateroom door.
“Ghost protection is one of my specialties.”
“I’ll remember that,” she said. She brushed at the wet spot on his jacket. “And sorry about the drool.”
“Anytime you need a shoulder to sleep on.”
Oh, no. There would be no more of that. Before he could mention the next day’s activities and try to make any plans, she unlocked her door, murmured, “Good night,” and slipped into the room.
She found Sierra in a sleep tee, stretched out on the bed with her phone.
“You sexting? Want me to leave the room?”
“Right.” Sierra tossed her phone aside. “I was checking Facebook.”
“So you haven’t heard from Mark?”
“No, and honestly, I don’t expect to.”
Sophie plopped onto her side of the bed. “I’m sorry, Sissy.”
Sierra shrugged. “He’s busy at work.” Then she changed the subject. “Who was that gorgeous man you were talking to?”
“His name’s Trevor March. I met him when I went up to the top deck to get some air.”
“You sure got more than air.”
“He’s not a doctor.” That said it all.
“Who cares? Just looking at him is bound to cure whatever’s wrong with you. What does he do?”
“He owns Cupid’s Chocolates.”
“Does it get any better than that?”
“Never mind him. How come you didn’t save me a seat?”
“Because you said you were sick. I figured you’d go back to the room and take a bunch of medicine and go to sleep.”
“Well, I didn’t,” Sophie said irritably, her earlier sympathy for her sister temporarily shelved.
“Then you weren’t sick?”
“I was sick. Trevor just happened to have something with him that made me feel better.”
“Oh, motion sickness meds?”
“No, chocolate with ginger.”
Sierra gave a snort. “Chocolate, the new cure for motion sickness.”
“Everyone knows ginger helps with an upset stomach,” Sohie said, frowning at her.
“And everyone knows you can’t get sick on a river cruise.”
“Well, I did,” Sophie insisted. “I do get sick a lot, and that’s why I should be with a man who’s a doctor.”
“Used to get sick,” Sierra corrected her. “You’re perfectly healthy now.”
Her sister didn’t get it. Things could come on you suddenly, out of the blue. One minute you could be running on the soccer field, the next you could be collapsed on the sidelines, gasping for air, your mother calling 911.
Sierra’s expression softened. “Okay, so it would be great if your perfect man turned out to be a doctor. But it’s not Rudy. He’s way too old for you.”
“He is not.”
“Come on, he’s Dad’s age. If you slept with him it would be like having sex with your father.”
Sophie scowled at her. “Thanks for sticking that image in my brain.”
“It should be in your brain. Anyway, I think he’s interested in Catherine.”
“Thanks to my own sister not saving me a seat. All he had to talk to was Catherine.”
“I think all he wanted to talk to was Catherine. Give up, Soph.”
“No way. What’s she got that I haven’t got in better condition?”
“It’s not gonna happen,” Sierra predicted.
“Oh, yes, it is. I have a whole week. Men have fallen in love with me in less time than that.”
“And fallen out of love in less time than that, too.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
Sierra yawned. “You can work on proving me wrong tomorrow. Right now I need to go to sleep.”
So did Sophie. Her head was buzzing. Jet leg was about to take her down for the count. She brushed her teeth, put on her plaid flannel jammies and climbed under the covers. Moments later she was as soundly asleep as her sister.
Then came the wee hours of the morning when she dreamed herself into an emergency room. She had a terrible fever. Pneumonia? West Nile virus? Yes, that was it, because she’d just come off a cruise down the Amazon and a mosquito the size of a bird had bitten her.
“I need Dr. Nichols,” she told the nurse who was taking her blood pressure. The nurse looked a lot like Elsa.
“Oh, yes, you need to get well right away, because we have such a wonderful outing planned for you tomorrow,” the woman said. “One hundred and three fever. I think the doctor will want to bleed you. I’ll get the leeches.”
“Leeches?” Sophie whispered. “I don’t want leeches. I want Dr. Nichols.”