The elevator bumped, threatening Niko’s balance. He shifted his weight. From beneath his half-closed lids, he watched Dr. Walcott do the same.

Something was different about her, something that intrigued him. An air? An attitude? A challenge?

Only problem was, Dr. Walcott didn’t seem interested. Could he change her mind? When had he last been challenged?

He rubbed his hand across his heavily stubbled face.

When he saw her eyeing him, he said rather self-consciously, “This boat has plenty of hot water, right?”

“The only reason you’ll take a cold shower onboard this ship is because you take one voluntarily.”

“I don’t see that happening.” He flashed his dimple.

She responded with the slightest of tight-lipped curves at the corners of her mouth. Polite, but just barely.

So much for winning her over with his innate charm. But, then, he wasn’t at his best.

A shower and shave and maybe a nap first. Then he might seek out the good doctor on the grounds of professional curiosity. She’d give him a tour of the facilities. He’d buy her a drink. They’d have a private meal on his room’s veranda and watch the sunset together—and maybe the sunrise, too.

“How is room service?”

“Very serviceable.” She bit her lower lip then squared her shoulders and took a breath as if she were about to plunge into the deep end of the pool. “I use room service quite a bit. They are very prompt. You should try the salmon mousse.”

“And maybe a bottle of pinot grigio to share with a new friend?” With the shipboard doctor, he wouldn’t have to worry about expectations and entanglements.

“I’ve never tried it that way. But, then, I’m not very good at sharing.” She glanced down at his bare finger. “I’m sure your girlfriend would enjoy the romantic gesture, though.”

“No girlfriend at the moment.”

She nodded her acknowledgement while she adjusted her grip on her cart, pulling it more decisively between them.

He’d gone too far, too fast. Message received.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, giving them both space.

He might be a romantic but he was a lousy long-term lover.

His ex-fiancée would be glad to expound upon that.

Impatient by nature, Niko had known there was some deep-seated, instinctive reason he’d never agreed to a wedding date. When she’d insisted he choose, either her or his work, he’d finally understood what that reason was.

Any woman who couldn’t love him for who he was didn’t love him at all. Sadly, after they’d both said their goodbyes, he’d realized he hadn’t loved her either. He’d just thought he should because his family had insisted they were the perfect couple. And his family always knew what was best for him.

When it should have been a tragedy, breaking off their engagement had been a relief. It had also been the last tie to living the ‘normal’ life his family wanted him to live.

This trip was his parting gift, his apology for letting them down, his peace offering for following his dream when he knew that was the last thing any of them would want him to do.

But his lifestyle change was tomorrow’s problem. Let tomorrow take care of itself.

The elevator jolted to a stop, putting the brakes on Niko’s runaway thoughts.

“Your floor?”

Annalise jerked as his voice called her back to the present. She’d gone away in her mind to avoid an awkward situation as she had so often in the past. But she’d never let down her guard like that while in a confined space with a man.

He was still leaning against the wall, but one eye was cocked open. How long had the elevator been stopped with the doors gaping open?

Keep it together, Annalise. With that admonishment, Annalise pulled the tatters of her self-discipline around her, took a deep breath and determined to carry on. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Lost in thought.”

“Been there, done that myself.” He pushed away from the wall.

She tugged her heavy cart to get the rollers moving over the rough separation between the elevator and the hallway floor.

“Need some help?”

“No. I’ve got it under control.” She was making more of this chance encounter than it really was, wasn’t she? No man like that would be interested in a woman like her, would he?

“I’ll be seeing you around.”

Not if I can avoid it. She wasn’t ready. Not now, maybe not ever, to feel an attraction to a man, especially a man as virile as this one.

“Enjoy your cruise.”

He raised a suggestive eyebrow. “I already am.”

She ignored the shiver that went through her. As she pulled her heavy load toward her clinic, she worked hard at dismissing the man who would forget about her the second the elevator doors blocked her from his sight.

Christopolous. If he was connected to her young patient, she knew all about how to keep her professional self apart from her personal self. But was that what she really wanted?

What she wanted was to have a normal reaction to a normal situation.

She couldn’t help taking a look back.

He was watching her, appreciation on his face. He gave her a long, slow, deliberate wink.

Almost against her will her mouth quirked up at the corners, acknowledging—and enjoying?—his attention.

As she felt the ship’s engines begin to churn far below her, she felt confused. She’d thought she was on an even keel, that nothing and no one could ever rock her boat.

Obviously, she’d been wrong.

Her little half-smile was more intriguing than the Mona Lisa’s.

She was perfect. A woman in her profession would understand that any romance Niko allowed himself to indulge in would end when the ship docked.

Niko watched the good doctor walk away on her long, strong legs until the elevator doors closed, blocking her from view. This trip was supposed to be about family, about paying back all the sacrifices they’d made for him—even if they’d never know that part of it. But surely he’d find time for himself, time for a harmless shipboard flirtation, wouldn’t he?

And if the good doctor wasn’t interested, there were plenty more fish in the sea, right?

A wave of exhaustion overcame him. His long hours and primitive living conditions must be to blame. That sinking feeling certainly couldn’t have come from the thought of possible rejection. His ego wasn’t that big, was it?

If so, his brothers would soon set it to rights.

Niko opened the door to his home away from home for the next three weeks. While not a huge cabin, it was certainly bigger than the tent he’d been sharing with a nurse and an anesthetist for the last month.

The private veranda was big enough to dine on—and do other things on, too. Yes, this cabin would do just fine.

The quick shower he took refreshed his energy as well as his attitude. The restorative powers of hot water and a bar of soap were nothing short of miraculous. Fresh underwear was a close second.

He picked out the least wrinkled casual dress shirt and pants from his rolling bag, shaking out the mustiness. Not too bad. Packing was a skill he’d had a lot of practice with.

From the connecting door he heard a hesitant knock.

“Uncle Niko, is that you?”

“Yes, Sophie, it’s me.”

He finished with the last of his shirt buttons then unlatched and opened the door between them and immediately gathered up an armful of six-year-old girl. Her bouncy black curls smelled of baby shampoo and her breath smelled of sugar and spice. Too much sweetness? A hint of fruitiness? Juvenile diabetes sucked.

“Sophie, when was the last time you checked your blood sugar?”

Before Sophie could answer, a voice worn with age but sharp nevertheless, said, “What? Not even a hello first, grandson?”

He looked past Sophie, snuggled on his shoulder, to the four-foot-ten-inch paragon who ruled the Christopoulos family with an iron skillet in one hand and baklava in the other.