Chapter 3
Charlotte O'Malley craned her neck and shielded her eyes from the sun, the bangles on her wrist clanging when she moved. “Well, sweet mother of God.”
The Gem of the Seas was sixteen stories tall and longer than the Eiffel Tower lying down and floating in the harbor. A smile spread across Charlotte's face. “Hot damn, this is going to be fun.”
She marched toward the terminal, dragging her wheeled luggage behind her in the hot Miami sun.
Cowboy was somewhere on that boat, and she couldn't wait to get that man between herself and a mattress.
Going on a cruise was the best idea her brother had ever had, though Logan certainly hadn't intended for her to go on the same exact cruise ship Cowboy was going to be on.
None of his fucking business anyway.
She was a grown woman. Hell, some days she felt like she was damn near over the hill, but of course that had a lot more to do with her ex-husband than with her chronological age. Rick had sucked the life out of her and traded her in for a nineteen-year-old model when he was through.
“Fuck Rick.” It was something she whispered under her breath several times a day.
She mentally resolved to stop saying that for the next week.
“Maybe I should change it to, ‘Fuck Cowboy,’ and then every time I think it, I should go and do it.” She giggled to herself.
Man, she needed this week to play and be free and enjoy the attention of a man who made her feel good, no strings attached.
She didn't want anything permanent from Leo Wilson.
Hell no. Not only was she unsure permanent relationships even existed, but she was pretty damn sure she was done ever trying to find out.
She was excited Princess Violet and Prince Hugo would be on the ship, and hoped for her own sighting of the royals.
She read everything she could about the royal family in magazines and tabloids.
Something about castles, princes, and princesses helped her to believe in happily ever after — no matter that her own life had tried so hard to wring that out of her.
She wanted it to be real. Wanted to believe that true love existed and some people got to experience it, even if she was not one of the lucky few.
Once inside the terminal, she ducked into a bathroom and eyed herself in the mirror.
The humidity had done a number on her hair, but her makeup was looking pretty good.
One more go-round with the lipstick and she'd be set. It wasn't very likely she’d run into Cowboy on the way to her stateroom, but she wanted to be ready just in case. She hadn’t come all this way to mess up the all-important meet-and-greet.
She pulled down the V-neck of her shirt and yanked the underside of her bra upward, settling the underwires back into place and pushing her breasts together. A middle-aged woman at the next sink surreptitiously glanced at Charlotte's reflection in the mirror.
“You excited to get on the boat?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes, of course. My husband and I cruise frequently, but it never gets old.”
“Oh yeah? I've never been. Always wanted to, but my ex-husband gets seasick. And he's an asshole, so there's that.” Charlotte smiled. “I’m meeting a friend on board. He got on in New York. How long is it going to take us to get on the boat, anyway?”
“Do you have a VIP card?
“No. Do I need one?”
“It lets you cut some of the lines. Without it, you’re looking at three or four hours.”
Charlotte’s enthusiasm sagged. Three or four more hours before she could even set foot on the boat, much less see Cowboy. “Ah, hell.”