Page 23 of The Admiral's Daughter

“What the fuck, Kit?”

She holds up her hands. “I know, I’ve broken the bunk rules.”

“Yeah, I’d say. What if I was rubbing one out?”

“Not the first time I’ve caught you doing that.” She snorts. “But that was an angry ‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ not a sexy one. So come on. I know there’s something going on.”

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I take a deep breath. “Since when do I discuss things, Kit? Come on,” I whine.

She nods, like she already knows. “I get it, and you know I respect your way of doing things.”

“But…”

Kit shrugs. “You were acting weird, Rome. I just wanna make sure you’re squared away before we set sail. It’s just you and me here. I can listen if you have something on your chest. You know it won’t go any further.”

Ah fuck it. My tried-and-tested way of dealing with things isn’t working. And Kit’s not going to let this go.

I take a breath. Force the words out.

“I couldn’t do it.”

She looks at me, confused. “Couldn’t do what?”

“I couldn’t fuck that woman in the bar tonight.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah. Cleo fucking Carter happened,” I growl. Reluctantly, I spend the next few minutes regurgitating all the shitty thoughts in my head.

Scooting further into my bunk, Kit lays a hand on my shoulder. “River.”

“Kit.”

She rolls her eyes. “Listen, smart arse. Cleo is the first woman you’ve run into after a one-night stand. Not only that, but she bruised your ego.”

I scowl. Kit raises her eyebrow at me, daring me to argue. I don’t.

“And now she’s going to be invading your space. Of course you’re feeling off.”

“Well, what the fuck do I do?”

She shrugs. “Ride it out.”

I gape at her.

She rolls her eyes again. “River, it’s two months. Cleo will be working. You will be working, and that’s it. You just need a bit of time to adjust and you’ll be fine. You’re overthinking, which is understandable. But maybe stop seeing her as Cleo the woman you slept with, and start seeing her as Cleo the journalist, here to do a job. Separate them.”

Separate them. Yeah, okay. I can do that.

I nod slowly. It makes sense. Cleo the journalist is just another crew member. Cleo the woman I slept with doesn’t exist anymore.

“And for the love of God, stop obsessing about your night with her!”

8

Cleo

The ship is buzzingwith anticipation and excitement. The crew look focused as they move around the carrier with a professionalism that sends shivers down my spine.