Undercover Billionaire: A forbidden Cinderella cruise ship romance Read online

  Undercover Billionaire

  Amy Andrews

  Published by Amy Andrews, 2020.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  UNDERCOVER BILLIONAIRE

  First edition. March 31, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Amy Andrews.

  Written by Amy Andrews.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Prognosis Temporary

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  About the Author

  For Clare Connelly. I feel like this book belongs to you as much as it does to me. Thank you for being there that night in New York and for that midnight pizza run xxx

  CHAPTER ONE

  Fuck! People. So many damn people. Happy, smiling, selfie-clicking people. Loud t-shirts and flip-flop, people. Floral swim suits and Speedos, people.

  Too much cleavage. Way too much cockage.

  And not even the nearby tray full of frothy drinks with bright red cherries could make up for the fact that Aristotle Callisthenes was stuck with three thousand people for the next seven days and nights.

  On a boat. In the middle of the Mediterranean. Where his ability to get away was severely hampered.

  Dull pain from an encroaching headache gnawed at his temples. Ari didn’t do people. Sure, most days of his life he had to interact with them, it just wasn’t his forte. Give him numbers and spreadsheets any time!

  Only seven more days...Christe!

  He plonked his ass on the bar seat. “Whiskey,” he said, barely looking at the approaching waitress as he slid his hand over the wood grain checking for stickiness. “Neat.”

  “That’s a pretty serious drink for not even half past eleven in the morning.”

  Ari glanced up to find a pair of pale green eyes sparkling at him above a little snub nose and a wide mouth turned upwards at the corners. The top lip was dominated by a fascinating Cupid’s bow. The kind that invited licking. The kind he might have found irresistible once upon a time.

  In a galaxy far, far away.

  Her blonde hair was caught back in some kind of side pony tail thingy leaving her long bangs loose around her oval face. He judged her to be in her mid to late twenties and, in the bright red of her Hellenic Spirit polo shirt, she looked the quintessential girl next door.

  His gaze dropped to her nametag. Kelsey. Yep. She looked like a Kelsey. All sunny and bright and impossibly perky and it had nothing to do with her cup size although, curiously, he had noticed the v of her cleavage.

  The gnaw in his temples upsized to a throb.

  Ari wanted to say, that’s me, Mr. Serious. But he didn’t. Smile. Flirt. Be friendly. Don’t scare the fucking staff. His brother’s strict instructions rang in his ears. Theo always had been a pain in the ass.

  Have some goddamn fun for a change.

  Ari shrugged and forced a smile. The muscles of his cheeks, unused to the exercise, protested the movement. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”

  Kelsey laughed as she poured the whiskey and Ari blinked at the sexy vibrato as it fluttered around him like confetti. It’d been a long time since any kind of laughter had penetrated the thick hide of his self-imposed isolation.

  Kelsey looked like she knew how to have fun.

  “It’s nine pm in Sydney.” She placed the glass on the bar. “So it definitely needs one of these.”

  She opened a blue paper cocktail umbrella and inserted it at a jaunty angle into his drink. She leaned back admiring her handiwork and laughed again, louder this time. Whiskey with a cocktail umbrella looked utterly ridiculous but Ari found himself smiling despite the absurdity.

  A different throb this time sliced between his ribs. Quickly, he picked up the glass, tossed the umbrella aside and threw the contents down. Placing the tumbler back on the bar he said, “Hit me, again.”

  Whiskey was the worst possible thing he could be ingesting in the face of his threatening migraine. But that’s why God had invented pharmaceutical companies.

  The blonde quirked an eyebrow slightly before pouring a second helping. Ari drained the glass and set it down. Kelsey lifted the bottle but he shook his head.

  The ship horn sounded and people whooped and cheered and headed for the railings as the oldest ship in the Hermes cruise line pulled out of Civitavecchia. Beyond the reaches of the harbour, April sunshine threw diamonds at the sapphire blue of the Med.

  Out there the Greek Islands beckoned. Venice beckoned.

  Ari glanced at his watch. Eleven thirty on the dot. “You’re Australian?”

  “Good guess.”

  Ari shrugged. He’d been born in Athens, raised in France, holidayed all over Europe and schooled in England. Accents were second nature. “You’re a long way from home.”

  “I am indeed.”

  “How long have you worked on cruise ships?”

  “Seven years.”

  “You like it?”

  She smiled and tipped her chin at the view. “I’m in the Mediterranean. What’s not to like?”

  Which was a good response, but didn’t really answer the question and if the need to medicate himself wasn’t becoming increasingly urgent he might have stuck around to probe some more. He pulled out his wallet. “How much do I owe?”

  “Oh, no sir.” She shook her head. “I’ll just swipe the card you were given on check-in.”

  “Oh yes, right.” Ari removed the card and deliberately placed his wallet on the bar top. “Sorry. I forgot.”

  “No worries.” She gave a teasing laugh. “Your first time?”

  It wasn’t. Ari had been seven the day his grandfather had smashed a bottle of champagne against the bow of this very ship, launching it on its maiden voyage. He’d lost count of the number of cruise ships he’d travelled on since.

  Smile. Flirt. Be friendly.

  “Yep. Cruise virgin I’m afraid.”

  The lie slipped smoothly from his tongue. He had a job to do and zero problem with pretending to be someone else to get it done. But her eyes lit playfully and Ari’s heart skipped a beat.

  “In that case,” she said, handing back his card, “we’ll be gentle with you, Sir.”

  She laughed at her joke and it was infectious, a smile spreading across Ari’s face before he even registered what was happening. He wondered if his cheek muscles were as confused as he was about the situation. But, it was hard not to smile, not to respond to her easy laughter and her light, flirty chatter.

  The kind of flirty chatter he suspected she used with everyone regardless of age or sex. It obviously came as naturally as breathing and he envied her that lightness of spirit.

  Ari suddenly felt ancient at the grand age of thirty two.

  Smile. Flirt. Be friendly.

  But he couldn’t. His temples throbbed, the pain in his ribs was back, his breath was short. His smile faded and he stood to go and instead of saying something like, don’t be gentle on my account, which is something the old Ari might have said, he bade her goodbye.

  Then he left, dodging all the fucking people and not stopping until he reached the dark, private cocoon of his inside cabin
.

  “Well hello there. This is my lucky day.”

  Kelsey glanced up from the drink she was pouring to find Andy, her fellow bar tender, brandishing a wallet. She recognised it immediately as belonging to whiskey dude.

  She handed the drink over as Andy strode around the corner, out of sight. Hurriedly she scanned the passenger’s card and was grateful that people were still absorbed with getting underway. In a few minutes they’d be slammed by passengers wanting booze to celebrate their departure, but for now, she could go and check on her partner.

  Kelsey had mixed feelings about Andy. She’d worked with him on and off the last two years and had even fooled around with him once at a party in the staff quarters on their first cruise together. He was English, four years younger than her twenty-seven years and a good kisser. But his moral code was a bit on the lax side. A fact confirmed when she found him riffling through the wallet.

  “Two condoms and two hundred and twenty Euros.” He waved the notes in the air. “A tip for me and you,” he said with a wink. Kelsey was sure he was joking but she wasn’t laughing.

  “Very funny.” She snatched the wallet and held out her other hand. “Give it back.”

  “Oh come on Kels, he won’t miss a couple of twenties. He probably won’t even know.”

  Silently, she stared Andy down. A couple of hundred Euros was hardly a fortune – she’d know if some of it was missing.

  She’d bet whiskey guy would, too.

  Those dark eyes of his had been steady and intense appraising her face with an attention to detail that had caused a little flutter in her chest. She doubted he missed a single goddamn thing. Not to mention, as the senior staff member, it’d be her ass if the passenger made a complaint.

  God knew, she couldn’t afford to lose her job. Not now. Not when she was just one more year from her goal.

  “I’ll know.”

  He sighed as he handed over the cash. “You, are a spoilsport, Kelsey Armitage.”

  She nodded. “Atta boy.”

  Four hours later, her shift over, Kelsey made her way to Ari George’s room on deck seven, his wallet in her hand. A couple of keystrokes of the register and she’d been able to access his name and room number from the card he’d given her to swipe. And other information. Like there being no Mrs George.

  Or any other companion...

  No wedding band either, she’d noticed. Or a telltale white line where one would be if he was that kind of scumbag.

  Of course, none of those things meant he wasn’t in a relationship. But it was rare to see an attached man going solo on a cruise. Most men either travelled with their partners or, they were a younger crowd travelling in groups looking to get drunk and laid.

  She should just have handed the wallet to guest services – it was protocol, after all. But she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the man at her bar drinking whiskey at eleven in the morning.

  Or his brooding good looks.

  The intensity of his obsidian stare, the thickness of his lashes, the squareness of his ruthlessly shaved jaw line, the perfect straightness of his nose, the hollows beneath the twin rails of his cheek bones, the firm line of his mouth.

  The deep, lurking...sadness in his eyes.

  She’d always been a sucker for sad eyes. Which was probably why she was here, at a passengers cabin, breaking all the rules, delivering the abandoned wallet personally.

  He probably wasn’t even in his cabin. It was three thirty in the afternoon on a gorgeous day, the sun was shining and the Med was being its beguiling self, surely no one in their right mind would be indoors?

  In which case she’d find the room attendant, get the door opened and leave it on his bed. She’d swiped a cocktail umbrella from the bar to use as a calling card for such an eventuality and her lips curved at the thought of him finding the little yellow umbrella atop his wallet.

  At the thought of him knowing she’d left it on his bed.

  Kelsey stared at his door, hesitating. Maybe she should just give it to the attendant and let whoever it was deal with the situation. She looked over her shoulder – the hallway was empty. Screw it. She’d knock, if he didn’t answer, she’d go to plan B.

  With her pulse washing through her ears, Kelsey rapped on the door. A muffled, “Just a moment,” caused a hitch in her breath as the reality of seeing him again gripped her chest.

  It was utterly preposterous – he was just a man for fuck’s sake. And a passenger at that!

  Which did not prepare her - one iota - for the sight that greeted her as the door opened. Not for his wild bed hair or the dark shadow of his whiskers or the pillow mark on his face. Not for him to be dressed in nothing but a towel or the way he appeared to be trying to focus.

  Was he...drunk?

  Had he continued the whiskey party in his cabin? He didn’t smell boozy but hell, it was so dark behind him he could be concealing a drug den for all she could tell.

  “Oh...hey.” He frowned, his hand going to the knot of the towel sitting snug and low on narrow hips.

  The action pulled her gaze downwards. Over the broad span of his shoulders and the smooth bronzed planes of pecs dusted in a light covering of hair, down the furrow bisecting his firm abs, and lower still to the happy trail heading south from his belly button.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice gravelly.

  A hint of an accent she hadn’t picked up earlier, roughed up his smooth English enunciation.

  Italian? Greek?

  “I thought you were room service.”

  Kelsey dragged her gaze upwards as he shoved a hand through his hair. The action bunched his triceps and revealed a dark thatch of hair under his arm that was masculine as fuck and caused a riot in her underwear.

  She blinked. What the hell? Since when had armpits been a turn on? Because she was most definitely turned on by this long, lean hunk of a man. It may have been a while but she knew chemistry when it reached out and tweaked her nipples.

  “No, I came to...” She held up his wallet. “You left this behind.”

  He frowned again. “Oh right, thanks.”

  He reached for it but swayed alarmingly and, before she could check the impulse, Kelsey slid her hand onto his forearm. It was warm and hard, the dark hair springy beneath her palm.

  “Whoa. Are you okay? Are you sick?” She peered into his face as he shut his eyes and leaned heavily into the door. “I could call the ship doctor?”

  His eyes blinked open and, between their intense focus and the heat of his skin, Kelsey could barely breathe. A lock of his hair had fallen forward onto his forehead into an honest-to-god curl and her palm itched to push it back.

  “I’m fine,” he dismissed. “I’m just coming out of a migraine. I’m always a bit lightheaded afterwards.”

  “Oh god, I’m sorry. My mother suffers from them, is there anything I can do? A cold compress, a drink of water, some tea?”

  “Room service is bringing peppermint tea.”

  Kelsey would have sworn Mr Whiskey would be a coffee man. That strong, bitter shit that caused a jolt to the heart at the first sip. Tea sounded so...English. But then, so did he.

  Mostly.

  “I just need to sit.”

  Not trusting his ability to stay upright, Kelsey followed Ari into his cabin, lowering herself down beside him on the bed as the door clicked shut. The cabin plunged into a darkness that was the hallmark of inner cabins on cruise ships.

  “How’s that?” Kelsey asked into a silence exacerbated by the deep, bottomless black hole pressing in from all directions.

  She should take her hand off him but he felt solid and real as her eyes adjusted to the tomb-like gloom. His aftershave seemed more pronounced too. Sweet. Wrapping her in a cloud of maple syrup and a fuckton of pheromones.

  He grunted. “Better.”

  “Is it okay if I turn on the lamp or do you still need it off?” Kelsey’s mother needed the dark when she was in the grip of a migraine.

  “On is fine.”r />
  The low rumble of his voice went straight to her nipples and Kelsey was momentarily thankful for the lack of light as she inched her way around the bed, his wallet still in her hand. Her feet found what she assumed were his clothes discarded on the floor. She resolutely ignored them - the less she thought about how little he was wearing, the better!

  She continued on until her knee bumped the bedside table. Placing the wallet down, she groped for the lamp switch and flicked it on, immediately adjusting the dimmer switch at the base. A low, yellow glow, like a single candle flame, illuminated the cabin.

  Kelsey glanced over her shoulder, noting the sheets had been pulled back before her gaze snagged on the golden play of light across the planes and angles of his back and shoulders. His hair was short at the nape which only seemed to emphasise the riot of dark waves atop his head.

  “That okay?” she asked quietly.

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  A knock and a murmured, “Room service,” startled Kelsey.

  He started to rise but she waved him down. “I’ll get it,” she said, hurrying to the door, pleased he didn’t try to pull some bullshit macho act about being okay.

  Kelsey hadn’t really thought about who might be on the other side and whether she’d know them and what that could mean but, thankfully, she didn’t. On a ship with a thousand plus staff and a turnover higher than any ship she’d ever worked on, it wasn’t uncommon.

  But Kelsey was still in the red shirt and white knee length shorts worn by the staff manning the pool deck bar which could be problematic if the room service attendant was a stickler for rules. Thankfully he didn’t appear to pay Kelsey any attention and was happy to hand the tray over and depart.

  Placing the tray on the nearby desk, beside a closed laptop, Kelsey fussed around making his tea adding the cocktail umbrella on the spur of the moment. It looked even more ridiculous in a cup of tea but she remembered how he’d smiled at the one she’d put in his whiskey and maybe a little comic relief wouldn’t go astray right now?

  Sitting beside him again, she offered him the cup and saucer. He gave a barely there smile. “Do you walk around with a supply of them?”