Page 9 of Hearts Aweigh

He studied Madeleine for any signs of panic. She was harder to read than a hostile witness. He hunkered down and placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you don’t want to stay here, you can come back to the suite with me.”

“Is that Princess Maddie?” A joyous voice drew his attention.

Abigail O’Brien held open a glass door. She’d traded her ridiculous ball gown for a pair of dark-purple shorts and a white polo shirt with the Monarch crown logo stitched on the pocket.

He relaxed at the sight of her. Instincts honed from years of selecting courtroom juries told him she could be trusted. Her candid smile made a person feel welcome.

Spencer rose and extended a hand. “Good morning, Ms. O’Brien.”

She hurried forward and squatted in front of Madeleine. Her chin twitched as she studied the girl. “Did your daddy do your hair?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Madeleine said. “I don’t think he knows how to make a ponytail.”

The redhead chuckled. “I think you’re right.”

Spencer’s hand drooped in midair. While he was impressed the woman was so diligent about making young passengers happy, it irked him that the entire conversation had been directed at his daughter. He wasn’t used to being ignored. Especially by someone who interested him.

Wait. Not interested. Intrigued.

No. That wasn’t the word either.

This woman was … unusual.

The unconcerned lady finally stood and focused on him. She clasped the back of her neck and moaned. “Wow. It’s a long way up to look you in the eye. What brings you here, Mr. Masterson?”

He made no effort to lessen the distance between them. “Our governess is indisposed, and it’s necessary to leave Madeleine here for a few hours while I conduct business.”

“Business?” Her mouth twisted. “Aren’t you on vacation?”

“My purpose on the MS Buckingham is in no way recreational. Once I accomplish my objective, we’ll take a flight from the nearest port to Louisiana. I won’t leave Madeleine with you for more than today.”

“What a shame.” She knelt and wrapped an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “We’ve planned all sorts of fun adventures.”

A shadow of curiosity crossed his daughter’s face. “Adventures?”

“Oh, so many. A treasure hunt. A water balloon fight with pirates. And even”—Ms. O’Brien lowered her voice like she was imparting a secret—“a giant feast with fifty different kinds of cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes!” Madeleine squealed.

“No cupcakes.” Spencer shook his head. “I prefer she eat healthy foods.”

Madeleine’s eyes grew round, and she gripped her dress in both hands. Had he frightened her again? Spencer wished he could rip out his tongue.

“I mean”—he bent—“lots of delicious healthy foods that taste better than cupcakes. Yummy, yummy foods.”

His daughter’s brows formed a skeptical arch. “Like what?”

“Like … uh—”

A smothered laugh sounded beside him. Ms. O’Brien patted Madeleine’s back. “Don’t you worry. We’ve got all kinds of good stuff.” She looked the girl over. “Does she have casual wear? I’d hate to ruin her designer duds.”

Spencer hesitated. He had no idea what clothes the governess had packed. Instead of haphazardly grabbing something from the closet, he should have considered the suitability of Madeleine’s dress for a playday. Why couldn’t he do anything right when it came to his daughter?

Ms. O’Brien waved her hand. “Never mind. This beautiful outfit is perfect for today. We’re having a karaoke talent show. But tomorrow is the water fight. If she visits us again, be sure to bring her in jeans or shorts.”

He straightened and nodded once. “Jeans or shorts. Understood.” He kept his gaze trained on the childcare worker. “Is there anything else I should do, Ms. O’Brien?”

“Call me Abby.” She winked at Madeleine. “Both of you.”

Abby wobbled to the left as she got off her knees. Spencer reached out and caught her by the elbow. Her skin felt soft, her bones fragile beneath his fingers.

“Thank you.” She moved away from his grasp, took Madeleine by the hand, and walked toward the double glass doors.

Spencer hurried to stop the energetic redhead. “Isn’t there a sign-in?”

“No, sir.” The smile she gave him was courteous and professional.

“The Monarch wristband she’s wearing has a computer chip with her health information, dietary restrictions, and stateroom number.

It also allows you to keep track of her whereabouts.

If you’ve downloaded the app to your phone, you can see where your daughter is at all times.

Rest assured. We’ll take good care of Maddie. ”

She led Madeleine through the castle entrance without another glance his way. Spencer stood still for several seconds. A mountain of emails awaited his response. And the sooner he reconciled with Daisy, the better. Yet, his unsettled mind rebelled against the to-do list.

Spencer retrieved his cell phone and speed-dialed the one person in the world he trusted without reservation. The man who’d shown him that God wasn’t a somber character on an engraved altar painting but a loving Father who cared about the minor details of his life.

“Hey, Spence!” The upbeat voice of his pastor and friend answered.

“Hi, Gideon. I dropped Madeleine off at the childcare center like you suggested. She didn’t cry.”

“She knows you’ll come back for her. Was the pretty redhead there?”

Spencer’s brow wrinkled. “I never said she was pretty.”

“You didn’t have to.” Gideon laughed. “Your tone said it all when you described her in her ridiculous Cinderella costume.”

“And what tone was that?”

“Oh, I’d call it exasperated interest.”

Gideon’s perception had seen beyond Spencer’s social status and polite reserve to the wounded soul underneath. No use hiding his incomprehensible fascination from his friend. Or even himself.

He shrugged. “She’s … attractive … in a wholesome, compact way.”

“Compact, huh? You know what they say. Good things come in small packages.”

“She has no interest in me whatsoever. She keeps her attention focused on Madeleine. Always.” Spencer cleared his throat. “As it should be.”

He didn’t need a girlfriend. He needed a capable caretaker to watch over the most precious person in his life. Madeleine was all that mattered. Abigail O’Brien’s indifference to him was a blessing in disguise.

Abby released a breath the moment they entered the double glass doors of the Kids Kingdom.

Parents seldom rattled her, but Madeleine Masterson’s father was anything but the usual passenger.

His autocratic bearing declared there must be a king or two in his family tree—the kind who put peasants in the stocks.

But it wasn’t his demeanor alone that flustered her.

Not even his arrogance could hide the fact the man was smack-you-in-the-face stunning.

His thick black hair framed a strong forehead, and deep dark eyes glistened like the waves surrounding the MS Buckingham . Their depths might have been warm if not for the straight, suspicious brows looming over them. A chiseled jaw and a square chin dared her not to examine his features too long.

Did he sense her nervousness? Her physical reaction? The way her insides flittered when he turned his attention on her?

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the girl at her side said. “What do I do?”

What a wretch Abby was. Daydreaming about an off-limits parent when there was an adorable little girl who lacked love and attention. Abby bent to meet her eye-to-eye.

“We have so many choices. There’s the karaoke room, the ropes course, or the movie’s starting if you want to grab some popcorn.”

Maddie surveyed the large play area. A nearby group of children built a fortress with giant sponge blocks. Squeals echoed from the back room where others bounced on trampolines. An alcove with bookshelves and beanbag chairs sat off to one side. The girl pointed to the quiet space.

Abby clapped her hands. “I love reading too. Do you want me to help you choose a book?”

“No, thank you.”

Maddie padded to the alcove, slipped a story from the shelf, and sat in a beanbag chair with her dress spread around her like she was posing for a photo.

Abby bit her lip. The child was too young to read more than picture books.

Perhaps she’d tire of them soon and interact with the other children.

Something about her upright posture prompted Abby to keep an eye on this darling child.

She got the sense Madeleine Masterson was used to being forgotten.

Abby intended to show her how special she was. Even if it was just for one day.

Abby’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and found a text from Emily.

What time do you get off? I have a surprise.

Her toes twitched inside her sneakers. If this meant what she thought it did—

A whoop left Abby’s mouth. Among the chatter and noise of the playroom, no one noticed. She mouthed a prayer of thanks that singlehood was almost finished. A few more hours, and she’d meet the man of her dreams.