“Those are mighty big bags for such a little lady. Prepared to dress for dinner, are we?” Niko jiggled his suit bag for emphasis.

Big drops started to fall from the clouds above. He moved closer to squeeze under the canvas canopy sheltering the ship’s entrance.

The long-legged beauty tried to shift away but there was nowhere to go.

Just as Niko was considering stepping out into the rain to put her at ease, the line moved, giving her the space she obviously needed.

Then again, it seemed this woman claimed her own space. She looked down her nose at him as best she could, considering she was several inches shorter than him. “I’m on staff here. I don’t do dinner.”

Which wasn’t quite true. Annalise helped out by rounding out the captain’s table on occasion to even out the couples ratio. It was no hardship. Seated next to a partnerless passenger, usually an elderly gentleman or an awkward geek, she’d met some delightful people.

People like this stunning man next to her always had a date, or found one or two while shipboard. The ship’s relationship rules definitely didn’t apply to passengers like it did to crew.

Since she was a rule-abiding crew member, this man was not a threat. Even so, she found herself leaning away from him and his overpowering personality, even while she regretted the sharpness of her tone. She was definitely too much on edge today.

Brandy reached across her toward the guy with an open hand. “Hi, I’m—”

“Next,” the security checker interrupted. He slid Brandy’s ship’s ID through the scanner. “You know the drill.”

The tension between the security checker and Brandy crackled, proof that shipboard break-ups made for an incredibly uncomfortable environment.

Brandy turned to Annalise. “You know, Doc, this ship is large enough that a person could sail for a month without running into everyone on board. But no matter how big it is, when you’re trying to avoid someone, no ship is big enough.”

Annalise felt trapped, literally being caught between a man and a woman and their conflict. A clammy sweat started down her back as the old terror threatened to overcome her.

“Relationships. Not my thing,” she managed to choke out as her throat tightened up on her. She tried to laugh but it sounded strained even to her own ears so she coughed to cover it up. From bad to worse.

Behind her, the late passenger took a step forward, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

His voice was a low deep rumble. Masculinity personified.

She could feel the heat from his body as he crowded her.

Annalise took a deep breath as the unreasonable panic settled. It had been a few years, almost a decade, since she’d had a panic attack. But too many memories in too few hours had taken their toll on the solid, secure world she’d built for herself.

The sooner she put New Orleans behind her, the better off she would be.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She gave a numb nod and thrust her card at the security checker, careful to keep her fingers from brushing his.

The security checker took Annalise’s card and slid it through. “Welcome back, Dr. Walcott. Need some help with that load?”

“Got it. Thanks.”

The man behind her held his card out for inspection.

“Could you remove the sunglasses, sir?” the security checker asked.

“Of course.”

Annalise had the strongest urge to turn around so she could look into his eyes but practicality took over. What she saw there would have no bearing upon her.

As she tugged her cart, it turned sideways, crashing into this man who made her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

If she were only as graceful as she was independent. “Sorry.” She meant for her gaze to skitter across his face but his eyes ensnared hers.

Tiger eyes. Amber golden with specks of brown, rimmed in a darker brown. Tiger eyes with a depth of … sorrow, perhaps, behind the brightness.

“No problem.” He blinked, breaking their gaze and allowing her to blink as well. When he raised an eyebrow at her, she realized she’d been staring.

Flustered, she yanked her cart, banging into the counter and almost taking out the passenger scanner. He must think her a total klutz.

What did it matter what he thought? Odds were they would never see each other again unless he had a medical emergency. And he certainly looked healthy to her. Well-worn jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt couldn’t hide his physical fitness.

She bumped into passengers all the time. None of them elicited a significant response from her.

Annalise overcame the impulse to check him out one more time.

What was it about him that made her feel … What? Aware? Self-conscious? Tingly? That made her feel anything at all?

As she fought the cart into submission, she heard the security checker say, “Welcome aboard, Mr. Christopoulos. Passenger stairway is to your left.”

Christopoulos? That was the name of her patient with juvenile diabetes. What were the odds?

Annalise headed toward the staff elevators, grateful for the privacy and breathing room that safe little metal box promised.

“Hold the door, please.” A large tanned hand inserted itself between the closing doors. If the man had seemed to tower over her before, he loomed now. “You don’t mind if I ride up with you, do you?”

“Passengers are encouraged to take the stairs if they’re able.” Inwardly, she winced at her brusqueness. She had wanted to establish distance, not convey rudeness. Where was her balance?

“I’m nursing a leg injury.” He gave her a lopsided grin, as if he were embarrassed to ask for special treatment.

Annalise wished a hole would open up and swallow her. “Of course, then.”

She stared at the floor numbers as the door closed, not trusting herself to engage in polite conversation.

She needn’t have worried about the man being chatty. He leaned against the back wall of the elevator, closed his eyes and slumped as if he would fall asleep right then and there. Except there was nothing relaxed in the tightness around his eyes or the brackets around his mouth or the squareness of his jaw.

Annalise took a moment to gather herself the way she’d learned in therapy so many years ago, rationalizing that her edginess had been provoked by too many triggers in quick succession, the worst one brought on by her own need to know that someone in the world cared.

When she’d knocked on her mother’s apartment door while she’d been on shore leave, Annalise had half expected, even hoped, to be told that her mother had moved and failed to leave a forwarding address.

But she’d been there. Bright pink lipstick had leaked into the pursed lines around her lips and coated the end of the cigarette stuck into her mouth. Age spots showed on her chest and arms, exposed by her cheap orange tank top.

“Anna?” her mother had smoothed down her over-processed hair. “I hadn’t expected …”

Scented candles perfumed the air. Annalise recognized the odor. Her mother had always thought men were turned on by heavy oriental scents. The smell made her stomach turn.

“I was in town and just thought I’d drop by.”

The furtive look her mother sent over her shoulder to whoever was waiting in the back bedroom was less than welcoming.

“I don’t really have the time to come in and visit,” Annalise assured her.

The relief was obvious in her mother’s eyes. “Maybe another time.”

Her mother had closed the door between them without saying goodbye.

It had been over two years. What was another couple of years between family?

Being in her home city, seeing her mother in the old apartment she herself had once lived in, consulting with the little girl’s doctor in the same building where she’d attended those therapy sessions, and then meeting with her friend had been a bit much for one day.

And this man next to her, this man who exuded power and testosterone, this man who she was too aware of being just inches away from her, had her all off balance. Something was different about him.