Fearless. Fern Michaels

safe on this ship.

      She knew she had thousands of fans but hadn’t really thought about their physical characteristics. Many fans were men, and those she’d met did not look like the male specimen before her. “Thank you,” was all she could come up with.

      He gestured to the empty seat. “May I?” he asked.

      So, this is how it works!

      Hesitating for a few seconds, she replied, “Of course.”

      Seated across from her, she observed lines etched around his eyes and a smattering of gray hair at his temples. His skin was tanned, and a dark shadow of stubble outlined a chiseled jaw and square chin. Early- to mid-forties, she would guess.

      He held a hand out to her. “Ryan Robertson from Lubbock, as you might’ve guessed. I’m just a groupie, and when I saw you, I had to introduce myself, make sure you’re the real deal. I watch The Simple Life every Tuesday night, eight o’clock sharp.”

      Anna laughed. “I didn’t realize I had any ‘groupies,’ Ryan Robertson from Lubbock.” And if I do, she thought, it never would have occurred to me that they’d look like you, she wanted to add but kept to herself.

      “Maybe that’s not the right word, but I recognized you when I saw you sit down. So,” he said, “I take it you’re here alone?”

      More alarm bells. Anna thought this was obvious since this was a singles cruise, and said, “If you’re asking if I’m here with other singles, the answer is no.”

      “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have intruded on your privacy. When I saw you, I just . . . well, here I am. An overexcited fan,” he said.

      She wasn’t sure if she should invite him to have dinner with her; she didn’t want to seem desperate, however, this was a singles cruise. She needed to move forward, forget what happened at home. This man was gorgeous. Mandy would kill her if she missed this opportunity. “Please, stay,” she said. “Have dinner with me?” Anna couldn’t believe she was so bold.

      Ryan appeared surprised.

      “Are you sure?” He smiled, sending her pulse racing.

      “Absolutely,” she said. “I want to have dinner before the contest tonight,” she added.

      He nodded. “Ah, the dancing contest.”

      “Yes, but I’m only an observer. I’m not much of a dancer,” she said, wanting to make it clear that in no way would she participate.

      “Me, too,” he agreed. “Though my daughter is an excellent dancer.”

      “You have a daughter?” she asked, relief flooding through her.

      He swallowed, clearing his throat. “She’s thirteen. Need I say more? But she is the love of my life.”

      The tenderness in his words found their way straight to her heart. “I understand completely. I have a daughter, too.” She didn’t want to give out too many details about herself yet, as he was a stranger, no matter that she’d just invited him to sit at her table and have dinner with her. But she felt safe with dozens of people running around the dining room.

      “Then we have two things in common.”

      She raised her brows in question. “Lubbock and single parenting?”

      He nodded in agreement. “It has its moments, I have to say. I have a son as well. He just graduated from high school. I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s just me and Renée in the house all by ourselves.”

      Anna could’ve interpreted his words a dozen ways but chose not to. “I don’t even want to think about that yet. My daughter starts high school this year. I’ve been dreading it, though I shouldn’t. She’s a great girl.” She missed her daughter at that moment and made a mental note not to forget to call her later.

      “Patrick, that’s my son, is a bit shy, which made high school a bit tough for him at times, but he did manage to graduate,” Ryan said, in an offhanded way.

      Before she had a chance to reply, their waiter came to the table. “Good evening, I’m Donal, and it will be my pleasure to take care of your dining needs during the cruise.” A short man, maybe in his mid-fifties, with an unmistakable Irish accent, stood by their table. He had the reddish brown hair to match her image of an Irishman. Anna thought he had kind eyes.

      “I’m Anna,” she introduced herself, and held out her hand, not sure if this was appropriate etiquette for the staff, but manners were important to her, no matter the setting. She was a true Southerner, and these minute details were a part of her. Donal took her hand, brought it to his mouth, and gave it a light, friendly kiss. She blushed, then grinned. Apparently, he was a true Irishman. “And a beautiful lass, too.” He winked.

      “I’m not sure that’s called for,” Ryan said. Anna detected a trace of disapproval in his tone.

      Anna spoke up, saying, “It’s perfectly fine.” She shot Ryan a warning look. She’d just met this guy five minutes ago, and he had no say over what she or anyone connected to her said.

      He held both hands up. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Talk of my daughter, I guess. Donal, accept my apology.”

      “Of course, sir,” Donal replied, then focused his attention on Anna. “What about drinks? We have every imaginable drink in the world.”

      “Just ginger ale for me,” Anna said.

      “I’ll have the same,” Ryan said, not looking at Donal.

      Dismissive, Anna thought now, wishing she’d been more discerning when it came to inviting this stranger to dinner. It wasn’t like she had a lot of experience in this area.

      Unsure of what to say, she said nothing. Good advice from her mother.

      “I seem to have offended you, Anna. I am so very sorry. I confess that Renée was on my mind. She’s become boy-crazy, and I’m having a hard time dealing with it and took my insecurities out on poor Donal.”

      “I’ve yet to go through the boy phase with my daughter, but I’m sure it’s right around the corner. I gave her a kitten for her thirteenth birthday. Most of her energy is focused on him, so I guess I’m lucky.” Briefly, Anna wondered how Mr. Waffles was adapting to vacation life.

      “Renée is allergic to cats,” Ryan said.

      “I’m sorry” was all she could think to say though she knew it was a fairly common allergy.

      “She did have a bird once. A parakeet she called Mrs. Peck. Poor bird died after three weeks. She’s never wanted an animal since.”

      Donal returned with their ginger ale and two small menus. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said, then left them alone.

      “That’s too bad,” Anna continued. “Poor girl. We’ve always had animals, though this is the first animal that she has complete responsibility for. So far, it’s been good for her. I imagine that when school starts, we’ll have to make an adjustment.”

      “How so?” Ryan asked.

      Anna did her best to keep from stating the obvious without appearing rude. “I’ll have to take care of Mr. Waffles while she’s at school,” she explained. “It’s no problem since I work from home.”

      “You work from home? I thought The Simple Life was recorded in a studio?”

      She smiled. “Lucky for me, I have a studio at home.” She thought all her fans knew this. “The best of both worlds. It can get hectic at times, trying to balance work and home, but it’s working, and I’m sure it will continue for as long as I need it to.” Hearing her stomach growl, she took a sip of ginger ale, somehow managing to knock her flatware onto the floor. She bent down to retrieve it, knowing Donal would provide another set. “I think we should order now. I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”