Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
MIA
Dinner wears on me. I wish I could say I wasn’t a petty person, but I take great thrill in watching Rigel put the bimbos in their place.
With Pete gone, the full weight of Rigel’s gaze settles on me. It’s as if he’s studying me, trying to unlock the secrets I keep hidden away.
Part of me wants him to succeed, to break through the walls I’ve built around myself, but another part knows better than to expose him to the danger that haunts me.
As dinner winds down and the passengers disperse, Rigel leans in close.
“I have something I want to show you.” His breath is warm against my ear, and his voice is low and intimate.
My heart skips a beat, my skin flushing with anticipation. I should say no, that getting involved with Rigel is a risk I can’t afford to take, but the pull between us is too strong, the desire too intense to ignore.
“Okay.”
Rigel smiles, his eyes filled with a heat that promises pleasure and danger in equal measure .
My heart races.
I’m in trouble.
Rigel, with his charming smile and piercing gaze, has already begun chipping away at the armor I’ve built around my heart. I have a feeling that by the time this journey is over, he’ll have completely broken through, leaving me exposed and vulnerable in ways I never thought possible.
The moment we step away from the clatter of the dining room, the night wraps around us like a shawl, the ocean’s breath a gentle rushing against the hull. Rigel guides me up the stairs to the deck, where the stars blaze with a brilliance that takes my breath away.
I’ve never seen stars like this and stand in reverent silence beneath their stunning beauty.
He releases my hand as we reach the rail, but the air between us hums with the electrical charge that passes from his skin to mine. I lean forward, resting my arms on the cold metal, and tilt my face to the sky.
It’s a canvas of infinity, each star a note in a celestial symphony.
“I’ve never seen stars like this,” I confess the truth, one of the few truths that will pass my lips during this voyage. The vastness of the stars makes my voice feel small and far away.
“Never?” His question comes softly, tinged with surprise, and when I glance at him, the starlight is caught in his captivating eyes.
“Never. The city lights back home… They smother the stars.”
“You see that cluster there?” His voice is a low rumble next to mine.
“That one?” I shift closer to look down the length of his arm to see where he’s pointing.
“That’s the Pleiades, also known as the Seven Sisters.”
The warmth of his arm brushes against mine, a heat that sparks in the cool sea air. He smells faintly of salt, and something crisp like the wind itself has anointed him with its essence.
He closes the space between us, his arm brushing against mine as he points to another constellation.
“See there? That’s Cassiopeia, the queen on her throne. It’s always visible year-round if you’re far enough north. She won’t be with us for long.”
I follow his gaze, feeling the solidity of his body next to mine. For a moment, the queen’s mythological dilemmas seem trivial compared to the story unfolding between us.
“I’ve read about them, but…” My voice trails off as my eyes drink in the sight, the stars more numerous and brilliant than I ever imagined.
“I’m guessing you’re not from around small-town skies,” he muses, his lips playful. “Somewhere bigger? A city? Skyscrapers instead of stars?” He’s close enough now that his breath whispers against my cheek. “Beijing, Seoul, Tokyo?”
“Shanghai.” I let it slip before I can catch the word and swallow it down, a secret given away as easily as a breath. The slip feels like a star shooting across the night, burning bright before vanishing into the dark sea.
My words are lost to the wind that whips at my hair, sending tendrils to flutter against his face, but he heard.
“Shanghai, then,” he says confidently. “A city where the stars are legends.”
I expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. He moves to stand slightly behind me. His touch sends warmth cascading down my spine.
“Your accent… I’ve been trying to place it. It’s subtle, and your English is remarkable.” His hand gently guides my shoulder, pulling me to stand in front of him. We align our bodies as we look up together. “Shanghai is one of the few places with stars obscured by city lights.”
His knowledge surprises me, but the casual mention of Shanghai sets off alarms in my mind, but they’re quickly dampened by his next movement.
His chest presses against my back, a protective barrier from the wind that whips my hair into a frenzy. His fingers are warm as they brush stray strands away from my face, a touch so tender it tugs at something deep inside me.
I nod, surprised by his accuracy and more surprised that I’m not guarded with him. Something about Rigel feels safe, even though every instinct tells me I shouldn’t trust anyone.
“And over there, that’s Orion,” he says.
“The hunter,” I murmur, finding comfort in the constellations he names and the myths that have traveled time and distance to reach us together.
“Yes, and see those three stars in a row? That’s his belt, and the stars above and below form his body.” His hand moves from my hair to the railing, encircling my own, his grasp firm and reassuring. “And just there, do you see? That’s Sirius, the brightest star in our sky.”
I nod, my pulse quickening under the soft heat of his hand, under the swath of stars he’s draped over my world.
The moment is intimate, cocooned in the sounds of the ocean against the ship, the taste of salt on our tongues, and the enveloping darkness that makes the touch of our skin seem like the only light we need.
In the span of a heartbeat, the universe distills into the connection between us, the stars witnessing the silent conversation of our bodies.
Rigel’s presence speaks to me, calling me to abandon my fears, to lose myself in the vastness he offers—a vastness that isn’t empty but full of possibilities, of nights like this, under skies like these, with someone who makes me want to keep looking up.
“How do you know so much about the stars?”
I’m acutely aware of the heat of his body and the scent of the ocean on his skin mingled with a hint of something crisp and inviting.
“I grew up on a vineyard, far away from the pesky light pollution of the city. My mom and dad would take my sister and me out at night, teach us about the constellations, and tell us how those who came before us used them to circumnavigate the globe.” The deep, rumbling of his voice is as much a caress as the night breeze.
I spin around, too curious for my own good but deeply interested in this strange man .
My hands land on his chest, and my head tilts back to see him. “Pete asked me, but other than diving, what do you do for a living?”
“Right now, I’m in between jobs.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I just got out of the Navy, and I’m taking time for myself before figuring out what I want to do.”
“Oh, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“The way you carry yourself.”
“I carry myself?”
“Yes, but the way you say it makes it sound weird. I’m just saying you carry yourself with confidence.”
“Well, thank you.”
“Why did you get out of the Navy?”
“The Navy gave me purpose, but it’s a hard life.”
“What did you do in the Navy?” I try to place him into a context I can understand.
“Started out as a lowly deckhand, then worked my way up to the teams.”
“Teams?”
“SEAL team.”
“You’re an ex-SEAL. That’s impressive. No wonder the ladies fawn over you.”
“Former SEAL,” he corrects, but the pride in his tone tells a story of deep commitment and honor. “And you’re a lady, but you’re not fawning over me.”
“I’m sorry?” My brows scrunch because I don’t understand the correction.
“About not fawning over me?” He arches a brow with amusement. “You totally should, you know. I wouldn’t mind.”
“Not that.” I tap him playfully on the chest, thumping against hard muscles. “I meant the SEAL thing, and I’m not going to fawn all over you. I have too much self-respect.”
“Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. Never an ex-SEAL.” He shakes his head gently, a wry smile playing on his lips. “It’s not just a job. It’s more than a job. It’s a part of who you are, carved into your bones. It stays with you long after the uniform comes off.”
His correction stirs something in me—a realization that, for some, identity is an indelible mark. For Rigel, being a SEAL is as permanent as the stars above us.
And for me?
I wonder if the mark of Red Phoenix Pharmaceuticals is just as indelible. Will my soul be forever stained because of them?
“Do you miss it?” My curiosity pushes past caution, hungry for a glimpse into his world—a world so different from the skyscrapers and labs that I know.
The stars reflect in his eyes as he speaks, and his voice carries the weight of many unspoken stories. “I loved it—the camaraderie, the missions… But it’s someone else’s turn to watch over the night now.”
“And what brought you here?”
“I wanted…” He pauses, and I see the silhouette of his former life in the resolve of his posture. “No. I needed to do something just for me. Diving. Stargazing with a beautiful woman. Time without a mission, without orders. Just me, the ocean, and the endless sky.”
His longing for freedom resonates with me, echoing my own desire to escape my past.
The night air seems to hold its breath as we share this moment, our truths laid bare under the watchful eyes of stars above us. In the silence, I feel an unexpected kinship with this man whose life is as marked by duty as mine is by secrets.
His gaze meets mine, and the depth I see is both thrilling and a little scary.
I understand the sentiment more than he knows. To do something just for yourself is a luxury that feels as distant as the stars.
“If you had a favorite moment or thing you did while in the Navy, what would it be?”
“Diving.” His answer is immediate and certain.
“I guess that shouldn’t be a shock, but I’m surprised.”
“What did you think I’d say? ”
“Traveling the world? Isn’t that what’s on all the posters? Join the Navy. See the world?”
“Maybe, but there’s a certain peace in floating in the water at night, the stars mirrored around you, the world quiet but alive. It’s—it’s freeing.”
The way he describes it, I can almost see it—Rigel, the SEAL, adrift in an expanse of stars both above and below. It’s a beautiful image, and for a heartbeat, I wish I could have seen it, seen him in his element.
“Let me show you the North Star. Once we pass the equator, it’ll be gone.” His hand reaches for mine again. It’s an excuse to touch, and we both know it, but I don’t pull away.
As his fingers entwine with mine, he guides my hand to trace the invisible lines between stars. His body presses gently against my back.
With every name he whispers—Orion, Aries, Aquarius, and oddly enough, Rigel—the night grows deeper, the stars burn brighter, and his presence becomes more intoxicating.
“Were you named after a star?”
“Guilty. Although, it’s my parents’ fault. My father had a passion for astronomy, as did my mother.”
“I think that’s kind of cool.”
“Maybe now, but as a kid, it was a hard name to carry.”
“How’s that?”
“Kids are cruel. So, you’re a big city girl? Were you born and raised in Shanghai?” He inches closer. “Your accent doesn’t sound Chinese. It’s more—international.”
“My background is a bit of a mix. Makes it harder to pinpoint, I guess. My father was a diplomat. My mother was an expat from America. They met in Taiwan.”
“That explains why your English is so good. What brought you to Shanghai?”
“A job.” Once again, I deflect his questions as best I can. I’ve already said too much, but something about him makes me want to share the pieces of my past .
I wish I could open up to Rigel. I wish I could tell him everything and have someone to lean on instead of feeling so alone.
“Mia isn’t a typical Chinese name.”
My guard rises, but there’s a flicker of something like appreciation for his attention to detail.
“My parents had their reasons, I suppose. I never really thought about it, but it’s a bit unusual.”
I lean against him, loving how his arms wrap around me, keeping me warm.
“Tell me your life’s story.”
“My life’s story? Like my entire life?”
“Why not? We’ve got time.”
“Why do you care about my story?”
“Because I’m interested in you… If you hadn’t noticed.”
I glance out into the inky black of the sea, weighing my words and deciding how much of my story to share.
“Maybe one day.” I keep my voice soft but make it clear I’m not ready to share those bits of my life. “For now, let’s just say I’m someone who appreciates the stars more now that I can actually see them.”
My entire life is a loss and it’s only just hitting me how truly alone I am in the world.
“Fair enough,” he concedes with a gentle smile. “For tonight, let’s enjoy the stars together. No pasts to talk about. No complications—just two people and the vast, open sky.”
I relax, a silent thank you for him not pushing for answers.
“Thank you,” I find myself saying, the words soft but sincere. “For showing me the stars.”
He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, his hand squeezes mine, a silent acknowledgment that fills the space between us with an inexplicable connection.
He shifts slightly, and our bodies turn naturally until we face each other, close enough that I can see the reflection of the stars in his eyes.
His hand rises slowly, almost hesitantly, as if asking permission without words. When his palm rests against my cheek, it’s a touch filled with the softness of a promise.
I lean into his caress, my eyelids fluttering closed for the briefest of seconds, allowing myself this single moment of peace.
There’s an invitation in his eyes, a question he doesn’t voice but one that hangs in the air between us.
Even though everything inside me wants to respond, there’s a cold chain wrapped around my heart—a reminder of the danger shadowing my steps. He can never know. The truth I hold is a death sentence.
What if my life were different?
If I wasn’t a fugitive but just Mia? A woman who could explore this insane connection?
I wish I could.
I want to be that person.
His thumb brushes gently across my cheek, and the tenderness in that small gesture unravels me. I take a shaky breath, fighting against the tide of emotions threatening to wash over me, the yearning to dive into whatever this is or could be.
“I should get back,” I whisper, the words tasting like regret on my tongue.
He doesn’t press, which only makes the moment more bittersweet. His hand falls away, and the night suddenly feels colder and emptier.
The moment this cruise ends, I will slip away at the first chance, vanish from the Serenity , from Rigel, like a ghost—a star that shines brightly one moment and disappears the next.
But as I take a step back, his hand finds mine once more, a silent plea that’s both a hope and a farewell.
“Before you go…” There’s a suspicious glimmer in his eye.
“Yes?” I never want to leave him, but that is not in the cards for me.
“I was hoping you might indulge me.”
“Indulge you?” My brows scrunch, confused. “In what?”
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” He glances toward the bow of the boat, those eyes twinkling with mischief.
I should say no.
I should walk away.
But I’m too intrigued, and I don’t want to leave.