Chapter 4 Cleo
Cleo
The only consolation to this utter clusterfuck is watching River Dawson blanch and sweat through the whole conversation with Captain Morley. It’s mean, I know, but if I have to suffer, so can she.
As far as I’m concerned, last night never happened.
I have every intention of keeping strict boundaries and as much distance as humanly possible from her.
Slightly harder to do when she’s my glorified babysitter, but I’ve spent my life around ships, I don’t need her to ferry me from one end to the other.
I’m sure she’ll be happy with that arrangement.
The moment she spotted me on deck plays through my mind, making me want to chuckle.
Her face drained of colour. I’ll take a wild guess and say this is the first time one of her one-night stands has caught up to her.
God, she probably thinks I’m some sort of stalker.
Or worse, a bar bunny. She better not think I’m a bar bunny!
I could have done without the dinner invite.
Making a spectacle of my stay is the opposite of what I want, but if Dad needs to show me off for an evening I’m sure I’ll cope.
The one good thing is knowing he’s leaving the ship straight after.
At least then I’ll be left to get on with the job sans constant interruption.
I make a mental note to charge my spare camera battery.
The editor refused to send a photographer with me, which is fair.
I know he was railroaded into agreeing to this.
No need for some other poor soul to get dragged into it, too.
The captain is a lovely woman. Quite hot, and definitely queer.
I’d bet my lesbian card on it. Two months on a floating metal tub is going to crawl by with just my vibrator.
I make another mental note to charge its battery while I’m at it.
Shame she’s out of bounds. Her hair is in a sleek bun like every other woman’s on the ship, but I like the streaks of grey she’s got going on.
I could see myself with an older woman. Captain Morley has this quiet authority that’s frankly doing things to me.
The way she holds herself, the slight crinkles at her eyes when she smiles, the competence radiating off her. It’s intoxicating.
And completely off-limits.
Stop thirsting over sailors, for fuck’s sake.
I need to have a serious word with myself. This is a job, nothing more. I just need to do it and then move on. I can rein myself in for a few weeks, especially knowing the fallout if I do something stupid, like sleep with one of them again.
They are not worth it…but they look so damn hot. No! No more thinking about hot women in uniform. Pull yourself together.
There, pep talk done. Now I need to find my cabin and take a nap.
I’ve done a fantastic job of holding it together up to now.
However, the alcohol and lack of sleep from last night are making me feel like crap, and I don’t want the good captain to notice.
Best I take a power nap and turn up to dinner in a better state of mind.
I’ve waited long enough for River to have made it to the other end of the ship after she was dismissed. It should be safe to leave now. “If you don’t mind, Captain, I’m going to settle in before this evening.”
“Of course, Cleo. It’s lovely to have you on board.” Her smile is quite delicious.
I internally roll my eyes at myself. This is what happens when you break the seal on something that should never be unlocked.
River was the breaker of the seal. I haven’t been within a hundred miles of a sexy sailor for years.
Years! One mistake and a few orgasms with River Dawson, and I’m lusting over every woman who owns a tub hat.
Ignoring my wandering thoughts, I smirk at the captain. “Even though I’ve been forced upon you by my dad?”
There is zero chance she had any say in this arrangement, either. But she knows how to play the game. Keeping my dad happy will be the number one priority.
Captain Morley grins back. “Even then. It’s a good strategy to get recruitment up.”
“Mmm, if you say so.” I’m not sure if she believes that or not.
Standing, I shake her hand and head out.
Thankfully, I packed a nice pantsuit for this evening.
It better not be too formal. I’m mentally running through the rest of my suitcase when I come face-to-face with a group of women.
River is smack bang in the middle of them.
Wonderful.
Given the fact all four women grow wide-eyed when they see me, I’m guessing River has told them about our night.
The tiny blonde, from the bar last night, literally has her mouth hanging wide open. The tall, gorgeous one looks like she’s trying not to laugh. The youngest is grinning like she’s watching the best reality show of her life.
And River? River looks like she wants the floor to swallow her whole.
Choosing to stay out of the drama, I give them a polite smile and squeeze past them. The narrow walkway forces me to brush against River’s shoulder. She goes rigid.
Thinking I’m in the clear, a relieved sigh bubbles up inside. My relief is premature.
A throat clears behind me. “Um, C-cleo?”
Stopping in my tracks, I momentarily close my eyes and curse the universe. Spinning on the spot, I give River a cordial smile. “Can I help?”
Her friends are edging away slowly. It’s ridiculous. I mean, they are grown arse women, in charge of our nation’s safety. This cannot be that important or entertaining.
She looks over her shoulder and I don’t have to see her face to know she’s scowling at them. Turning back, she gestures for me to follow. I might as well get it over and done with.
We end up in the dining hall, where I suspect she’s just come from considering her friend had half her lunch down her shirt. Taking a seat opposite her, I mentally prepare. She’s all nervous and sweaty again.
Smoothing down my top, I take the bull by the horns. “So, what would you like to talk about?”
What’s the likelihood she just wants to sync up schedules?
She looks around the room, eyes all twitchy. “Look, this isn’t ideal. I never expected to see you again. Nothing can happen—between us, I mean.”
I clutch my chest in mock despair. “But…I thought we had something special.”
Her eyes grow so much bigger, and I can’t keep the snort inside. Is she for real? Of course she is. River absolutely expects me to be pining after her.
“Sweet Jesus, relax. I have zero desire to revisit this.” I wave between us. “We had one night of sex, that’s it. I’m more than happy to pretend it never happened.”
“Did you know who I was last night?” she whispers.
I want to fuck with her some more, but that would mean I have to stay in this conversation longer. “You mean, did I purposefully take you home knowing I’d be on your ship for eight weeks?”
She nods.
“No, River. I had no idea you were a crew member on the HMS Queen Elizabeth. I did figure out you were a sailor, for clarity’s sake.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “So, this is a coincidence.”
“Yes. Sleeping together was a mistake. I think we can both agree on that.”
She shrugs. “I think we had a pretty decent time.”
Ah, her ego is still in need of stroking. “It was fine. Very nice—”
“Nice?”
Okay, her voice just got weirdly higher. Her face is doing something complicated. Confusion, offence, and what might be genuine distress are all battling for dominance. I’d feel bad if it wasn’t so bloody entertaining.
“Yes. Nice. Um, that’s a good thing, River.”
“Nice?”
Okay, this is getting awkward. I’m not going to say nice again.
“Cleo, I gave you like four orgasms.”
“Yes, and they were nice.” Shit, I said it again.
She pushes up and slams both hands on her hips. “Can you stop using that word?”
Whoa.
“What’s the issue?” I don’t know why I’m asking. I should just leave.
“What’s the issue?”
“Are you just going to keep repeating what I say? Jesus, I haven’t got time for this. Look, we forget last night. I’ll get on with my life, and you get on with yours. Okay? Great. I have things to do.”
She’s still standing there gaping as I make a quick exit. I could have been kinder, I suppose, but I’m feeling on edge. I’ve only been on board for a couple of hours and am already feeling trapped. How can I get through two months without going nuts?
It takes me several minutes of climbing through rounded doors and scaling steep as fuck steps before I get to my cabin, which is barely bigger than a cupboard.
The bed is the size of a single KitKat bar, and the mattress is thinner than my dad’s hair.
There’s a narrow desk bolted to the wall, a locker that might fit half my clothes if I’m lucky, and a porthole the size of a dinner plate.
The air smells like metal and industrial cleaner.
Two months. Two months in this floating sardine tin.
Oh well. It will do, and I need sleep.
One issue. I can’t lay on my paper-thin bed because there’s a giant box with a bow sitting proudly on it. Dear Dad strikes again. I should have expected it. He’s bought me a bloody dress for tonight, I just know it.
My head hurts.
Putting the box on the floor, I flop down. My head hits the pillow, which feels weirdly okay, and I am out like a light.
Heavy banging on the door jerks me awake. Slobber pools on my lip. Gross.
“Cleo?”
Stumbling to the door, I catch my reflection in the tiny mirror.
I look like garbage. My hair’s a disaster, there’s a crease from the pillow running down my cheek, and my mascara from earlier has smudged under one eye.
Brilliant. Exactly how I want to show up to a formal dinner.
The banging continues. Ripping open the door, I stare at my dad.
“I thought you’d be late. Just like your mother. She could never stick to a schedule.”
Holding up my hand, I stop him from continuing.
“Dad, you don’t get to talk about Mum.” He cheated, therefore forfeiting his right to talk about her ever again, in any capacity.
“Also, I had an alarm set for three minutes time. You banging on my door is unnecessary. I’m here, doing your bidding. Can that just be enough?”
“Cleo.” He turns, looking left and right. “Keep your voice down, please.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m going to get dressed. See you soon.”
I don’t like being at odds with people, but I’ve had to put some walls up over the years.
Dad and I will never be as close as he wants.
I can’t get over the way he’s behaved. Mum deserved better, and frankly, so do I.
He always puts the Navy above everything else, and that had a profound effect on me growing up.
My attitude towards River is another well-constructed wall. I already had a tenuous relationship with anything to do with the Navy. Add a heartbreak that nearly broke me, and that’s why her ego and behaviour gets under my skin, and why I have no time for her shit.
Ugh, why am I still thinking about her?
Stripping off, I pull open the box and lift out the dress.
It’s gorgeous. Of course it is. Dad has impeccable taste when it comes to appearances.
He always knows exactly what will make the right impression.
A simple black gown, elegant without being flashy, suitable for a dinner party where I’m meant to be seen but not outshine anyone.
He’s thought of everything except asking me what I wanted.
Another pounding knock makes me jump. Thank God I’d finished applying my mascara already. Slipping on my heels, which I already regret, I open the door and almost swallow my tongue.
River is standing there in her number one uniform, and she looks hot as hell.
Her uniform is immaculate. The Navy jumper with its distinctive square collar, the black silk scarf tied perfectly, the white front crisp and bright.
Her tub hat sits precisely, the HMS Queen Elizabeth tally visible on the band.
The polished boots gleam. She looks every inch the professional sailor.
And I want to mess her up.
Fuck!
“Good evening. I’m here to escort you to the dinner.” Her tone is cool and detached.
“That’s very thoughtful.” I’m going to ignore the ice she’s throwing my way.
Grabbing my phone, I step out. We barely fit side by side, which means I have to stand way too close to her.
Close enough to smell whatever soap she uses—something clean and masculine.
Close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body.
She keeps her eyes forward, jaw tight, like touching me would burn.
The steep steps are so much harder to navigate in this getup.
Outside the captain’s private dining room, River spends a few seconds straightening her already immaculate uniform. She’s visibly nervous.
Her hands are shaking slightly as she adjusts her collar for the third time. There’s a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead despite the cool air. She keeps swallowing like her mouth has gone dry.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask out of politeness.
“I’m fine. Shall we?”
I’d love to say something snarky, but there’s no point. I’ve bruised her ego, and she’s acting out. I’ll take it.
The door swings open before she has a chance to knock. My dad stands with the captain drinking expensive scotch. They’re both in their formal uniforms. The room is dressed up, as if the bloody King of England is popping by for his tea.
“Cleo, would you like a drink?” Dad calls. River comes to attention and salutes. “At ease, Dawson, no need for the formalities this evening. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to help Cleo.”
She relaxes slightly. “It’s my pleasure, sir.”
Dad hands me a glass of wine. I’d like to down the entire glass, but that would be inappropriate, right?
I can’t wait for this dinner to be over with.