Page 58 of Hearts Aweigh
Her head argued even as her feet moved forward.
She crossed the small distance between them, slipped her arms beneath his, and wrapped them around his waist. If she was going to throw away common sense, she might as well make it good.
Abby pressed her cheek against his chest and held him close.
She patted his back like a mother might do when sending her grown son off to college.
Not that she felt motherly. Quite the contrary.
Her body tingled where it pressed against his.
He hunched closer, his muscles providing a hard, delicious cocoon. A tremor shook him.
Abby squeezed tight and stayed there. Five minutes?
Ten? She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but she sensed by the straightening of his posture when he regained control.
Not wanting to add to his embarrassment, she released him and leaned away, but he held on.
His arms remained around her as he looked down.
Bewilderment entered his eyes. Unsurprising, considering what he’d been forced to listen to from his own mother. It was a wonder he’d managed to stay on his feet.
Abby drew a breath. “Maddie’s hanging out upstairs. I’ll go play with her so you can be alone for a while.”
Again, she tried to step away. Again, he held her in place.
“Thank you.” Spencer studied her.
“For what?”
A wistful smile appeared. “For being you.”
The click of the door closing sounded behind them.
Priscilla’s unwelcome voice intruded. “Isn’t this cozy?”
Abby and Spencer jumped apart like a pair of naughty teenagers who’d been caught by the teacher.
“Shame on you, Spence.” Priscilla approached with a blithe attitude. “I never took you for someone who’d fool around with the help.”
“The help ?” Abby cringed at the antiquated put-down. “Did I stumble into a 1950s soap opera? Surely people don’t think that way anymore.”
“Unfortunately,” Spencer said, “it’s all too common in the circles where I grew up. The old-money crowd has centuries of snobbery ingrained.”
The towering Priscilla perused Abby’s short figure as she addressed her ex-husband. “I suppose I can’t begrudge you a little holiday amusement.”
“‘Amusement’?” Abby reminded herself this unbearably rude woman was a customer. “I assure you, I am not included on the MS Buckingham ’s activities list.”
The statuesque blond sat on a nearby chair and crossed her legs at the ankles.
Her serene disdain disregarded Abby as if she hadn’t spoken.
Priscilla addressed Spencer. “Be sure not to take any pictures that might be embarrassing at a later date. My opposition has a history of digging up a candidate’s dirty laundry.
I’ve been on my best behavior”—she deigned a sideways glance at Abby—“but I’m not so sure about you, Spence. ”
Abby counted to four in her head. That was the number of workdays left on her contract. She wanted to finish her time on the MS Buckingham without any demerits on her record.
A gentle pressure on her fingers distracted her. Spencer’s large hand enveloped her own. He leaned close and whispered in her ear.
“Go with me on this. Please.”
With a squeeze, he released her and pulled out his phone. “Here’s a picture you might be interested in.” He extended the screen to Priscilla.
Her lazy lean forward came to an abrupt halt. She jolted to her feet and swiped the phone. Her cold blue appraisal pointed his way. “You must be joking.”
For the life of her, Abby couldn’t dream of a single thing that would make the ice queen lose her composure. The only pictures she’d ever taken with Spencer and Maddie were on the pier in Cozumel. Was Priscilla horrified at the childish pose she’d struck with her tongue sticking out?
Priscilla hurled the phone at Spencer. He caught it and tilted his head with a quirk of his eyebrow. Abby peeked at the phone. A photo showed a familiar beach setting with the two of them standing close. In the background, the candlelit heart glowed in the sand.
The reason for Priscilla’s distress became clear. Spencer’s ex-wife had made the same wrong assumption as Abby. Priscilla thought the romantic setup preceded an engagement.
But where did he get the picture? Abby remembered a photographer with the actual engaged couple. Had he snapped some shots when they weren’t looking?
“As you can see,” Spencer held his phone up, the picture pointed at Priscilla. “I made a special proposal to Abby a few days ago. She has yet to accept, but I’m hopeful.”
He slipped an arm around Abby’s shoulders and faced her way.
His imploring gaze begged her not to contradict his ridiculous story.
A dark lock of hair dipped on his forehead.
It wasn’t shellacked anymore like it had been on his first day aboard.
He’d loosened up considerably. But this sham was outrageous.
Priscilla crossed her arms. “Are you punishing me for divorcing you? If so, don’t carry it too far. What will your family say? Your friends? Your law partners?”
“I imagine they’ll congratulate me on finding such an exceptional woman. Abby’s smart, beautiful, makes even the dreariest of circumstances enjoyable, and is the kindest, most generous person I ever met.”
“Is this true?” Priscilla turned her attention to Abby. “You’re shameless enough to seduce a passenger?”
Was it wrong Abby wanted to bring this conceited woman down a peg? Probably. But still …
Abby hugged the solid, male body beside her. “What can I say? He’s hard to resist.”
“And for the record”—Spencer’s spine stiffened—“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use words like seduce . Ms. O’Brien has always conducted herself with the utmost propriety. I’m the one who pursued her, and saying otherwise is false. A defamation lawsuit wouldn’t look good for your political career.”
“Consider Madeleine.” His ex-wife paced. “What kind of mother would this woman make?”
“The very best.” He let go of Abby. “Maddie is the one who’ll benefit the most from our relationship.”
The truth of his words smacked Abby in the solar plexus.
Maddie was his primary concern. He’d suffer anything for his daughter.
But his own affections had nothing to do with this charade.
He wanted to rid himself of his ex-wife’s attentions and didn’t mind using a cruise ship employee to accomplish that objective.
Priscilla pressed her perfectly polished fingertips to the spot between her eyebrows and drew a breath, then another.
Lowering her hand, she pursed her lips, returned to the chair, and rested her arms on the sides.
Her poise recalled royalty on a throne. Even her smile was beneficent.
“As I recall”—her regulated tone held none of her earlier anxiety—“our prenuptial agreement contained a clause allowing for one infidelity after marriage.”
Spencer’s voice matched her own. “As I recall, you were the one who insisted on it.”
“Yes. Knowing the ways of men, I wanted to provide you some freedom, but I realize now I insulted you.” She dipped her head.
“You were the most faithful of husbands—another reason why I decided to resume our marriage. The public has grown more accustomed to marital infidelities, but scandal can still hurt a politician’s career. ”
Abby marveled at the casual way she spoke of sordid topics. Were all rich people this cagey? Did every decision revolve around money and position?
Priscilla stood. “I’ve devised a solution that will benefit everyone.
My campaign manager wants me in New York by the end of the week.
Why don’t I take Madeleine for a little visit with me?
It will give you a chance to fully”—she swept Abby with a condescending look—“indulge. You always did work too hard. Relax for a few weeks. It will take that long to finish the campaign’s publicity plans.
I imagine the media will eat up the story of a broken family reuniting in the name of love.
” She raised one finger. “Why don’t you visit Europe?
Just make sure there’s no evidence of your little holiday with the help. ”
That phrase again! Abby was in great danger of ruining her perfect customer service record. Her Irish ancestors must be rolling in their graves at the way this overprivileged brat was treating her.
Priscilla’s unconcerned perusal traveled between the two of them. “Naturally, I’ll insist you terminate the relationship before you join me in New York.”
Spencer’s voice remained polite. “There’s one flaw with your suggestion.”
Abby bristled. Only one?
An hour wouldn’t be long enough to list her problems with the conversation she’d been forced to endure.
She needed to leave before she said something not approved by the Monarch Cruises employee handbook.
Disappointment engulfed her. She’d thought better of Spencer.
The last few days had shown him as a caring father and genuine person.
Yet he’d listened to Priscilla’s nonsense about his and Abby’s indulging in a fling without uttering a single objection.
He was a lawyer, after all. Wasn’t he supposed to be an expert at rebuttal?
Could it be he honestly didn’t see anything wrong with what she was saying?
Spencer’s arm returned to Abby’s shoulders. Not in the annoying way taller people had of leaning on shorter people like a prop. His hand cradled her. Supported her. Shored her up against the onslaught of his ex-wife.
He drew her to his side. “Apart from the sheer lunacy of your distasteful plan, there’s a more salient problem. I’m in love with Ms. O’Brien.”