wife?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
The two men still seated at the table came to their feet. Frank Barber spoke first. “Mr. Sayed, it’s good to see you.”
Zak’s gaze remained focused on Maitlyn’s new friend. He didn’t bother to respond.
“Mr. Lloyd, this is Zakaria Sayed. Mr. Sayed, this is Alexander Lloyd and the young woman is a friend of ours. She’s not feeling well, and he was just helping her to her cabin.”
Zak nodded ever so slightly. “Well, the young woman came on board with me, not Mr. Lloyd. And since she isn’t married, I know that Mr. Lloyd can’t possibly be her husband. And the fact that he lied makes me question his intent.”
The blond-haired man bristled. “She’s a very close friend.”
“I don’t feel so good,” Maitlyn repeated again in a brief moment of lucidness.
“We appreciate your help, Mr. Lloyd, but I’ll take her from here,” Zak stated matter-of-factly.
“I can take her—” the man started.
Gerard Bruner interjected, cutting a stern eye at his friend. “Not a problem, Mr. Sayed. We were all just trying to be of some assistance.”
Zak cast a brusque eye at the man, then gestured for one of the cruise ship’s employees. The man was at his elbow before he could even lower his arm.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Sayed. Is there a problem, sir?”
“Have the ship’s doctor meet me in my suite, please. Ms. Boudreaux isn’t feeling well,” he said as he moved forward, gently pulling Maitlyn from the other man’s grasp and sweeping her up into his arms. Instinctively she wrapped both of her arms around his neck and laid her head onto his broad chest.
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” the man gushed as he hurried off.
The man introduced as Mr. Lloyd scowled. Zak looked from Bruner to Lloyd again, who looked down, nervously adjusting his collar. Without another word, Zak turned an about-face and carried Maitlyn out of the club.
The ship’s doctor, his nurse and the cruise director were waiting at his door. Stacy’s eyes widened with concern.
“Mr. Sayed, we can take Ms. Boudreaux down to the infirmary. You don’t need to be bothered, sir.”
“Did I say I was bothered?”
“I just— We—” she stuttered as Zak gestured for one of them to open the room’s door.
After moving inside, he laid Maitlyn down gently onto the oversize sofa. She moaned softly. He couldn’t resist brushing his fingers across her forehead, sweeping the length of her hair from her eyes. Her gaze briefly met his, and she struggled to smile.
“Has she taken anything?” the doctor asked as he moved in to examine her.
Zak shrugged. “I believe she’s been drinking. I’m not aware of anything else,” he answered.
The doctor nodded. “Do you mind if we move her upstairs to the bed?” he asked.
Zak shook his head and bent to lift her a second time. Without an ounce of effort he carried her up the short flight of stairs to the second level and laid her across the bed.
Maitlyn suddenly lurched forward, her torso rising as she reached her arms out to him. Dropping down against the bedside, Zak gently returned the embrace.
“The doctor’s here. He’ll make you feel better.”
Nodding her head against his chest, Maitlyn purred softly and then heaved, vomiting down the front of Zak’s gray silk suit.
* * *
Maitlyn’s eyes snapped open. Her eyes skated around the room as she took in her surroundings. For a brief moment she didn’t know where she was and then she remembered she was on a massive ship cruising across the Atlantic. The easy side-to-side sway of the bed she rested in was soothing. She noted that the space was luxurious, much nicer than her own cabin. And suddenly her anxiety returned—Maitlyn had no clue whose cabin, or bed, she was in.
She sat upright. The last thing she remembered was the nightclub and the intoxicating beat that had vibrated from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She remembered the room full of revelers and dancing as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Because for the first time since her trip had started, she hadn’t. Not one. For the first time, in quite some time, she had been completely and totally content.
And then she remembered the table of men who had spent the first two days of her trip flattering her vanity with compliment after compliment as they’d lavished her with attention. Most especially Alexander Lloyd, the silver-tongued Englishman with the devilish blue eyes. Lloyd had been particularly attentive, and Maitlyn remembered thinking that she might not go to bed alone that night. After that, everything else was a complete and total blank.
As Maitlyn tried to remember the past few hours of her life, pondering how she’d come to be in someone else’s bed, Zak Sayed stepped into the room, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Maitlyn’s mouth dropped open as shock washed over her expression. She grabbed at the covers and pulled them beneath her chin. She suddenly felt quite naked in whatever it was she was wearing because she didn’t have a clue if she had on clothes or not. She tossed a quick look beneath the blankets and spied the oversize T-shirt that she was clothed in. She didn’t have on panties.
Zak stopped short. He tossed her a slight smile. “Good evening. You are finally awake.”
She nodded as her eyes bulged wide. “How...how long have I been out?” she asked, suddenly having a ton of questions. “How did I get here? Where are my clothes? Did we—?”
Zak smiled easily, but the gesture did nothing to calm Maitlyn’s nerves. The uneasy wave in the pit of her abdomen spun like a roller coaster out of control. She was suddenly focused on his magnanimous smile and his half-naked body. His broad chest was well-defined, showcasing picture-perfect six-pack abs. His skin was the color of rich, warm nutmeg and smooth like fine silk stretched over hardened steel. The muscular lines narrowed at his waistline, and she couldn’t miss the hint of black hair that peeked over the front edge of the bright white towel that sat low around his hips. She could only imagine where that slight wisp of tight curl led beneath that towel. Her gaze shifted down to his legs; the limbs were long and unyielding like the trunk of a mighty tree. And his feet, like his hands, were large, a solid foundation holding him upright. She struggled not to stare so blatantly.
Still smiling, Zakaria responded, “Two days. You’ve been asleep since Tuesday. You had me worried for a moment but the doctor assured me you were fine.”
“Tuesday? What happened to me?” she queried, finally lifting her eyes back to his.
“Your body needed rest and then you drank too much.” His tone held a hint of judgment and his gaze was critical. Zak was not fond of women who could not hold their alcohol.
Maitlyn felt her body tense. She hesitated, shifting her eyes from side to side. “I didn’t...I...” she stammered, finally finding the words. “I don’t drink,” she finally said.
Zak stared at her. “You were drinking rum punch.”
She shook her head. “No. I was drinking punch but without the rum. I don’t drink. I don’t like how it makes me feel, and I would never risk losing control because I drank too much. I don’t drink,” she professed a second time. “Ever!”
Zak studied her momentarily. The look on her face was telling, and he appeared suddenly angry. He swallowed hard, bottling the emotion. He bit down against his bottom lip, then pursed his lips together, his jaw locked tight.
Maitlyn closely observed Zak, still trying to make sense of the moment.
“You were exhausted and dehydrated. I’m sure you hadn’t