Code Name: Bikini

“Roger that.”

ALMOST DONE, Gina thought.

The crème brûlée demonstration had received wild applause, with her cake decorating tutorial a close second. She was pretty sure she had flecks of buttercream frosting in her hair, but she was too tired to care. All she wanted was to get back to the ship, kick off her shoes and unwind.

Then she saw the white uniform at the back of the room and all thoughts of relaxing vanished. He’d actually tracked her down. She’d expected him to be distracted and forget all about her.

She tried to focus on the food critic in the front row. The man tugged at his small goatee, launching into his third convoluted question.

Meanwhile, Trace was handing her sweater to Reggie. The two spoke quietly and Reggie nodded.

Please get his phone number, Gina prayed.

She cleared her throat. “I think this will be our last question.” She smiled but made a point of glancing at her watch.

“Ms. Ryan, the New York Times recently quoted a food writer who said that imported chocolate is the new sex. Any comment?”

Gina waited a beat and smiled. “Was something wrong with the old sex?”

When the laughter stopped, she cut to a brief review of quality, artisanal imported chocolates, outlining her personal favorites. Then she wrapped up the session.

When she glanced at the back of the room, Trace was staring at her, smiling.

He raised his hand.

“Yes? The man in the uniform,” Gina said a little breathlessly.

“Don’t get me wrong, ma’am. I like good chocolate as much as the next guy. But the way I see it, sex is always going to have it over chocolate.”

Laughter broke in another wave.

He gave her a calm two-finger salute that sent the dark flutter nose-diving through her chest. Before Gina could answer, a man with a camera cut in front of her and she was caught in a TV interview.

When she looked up, Trace was gone.

CHAPTER NINE

One day later

THE SHIP’S LOWER DECKS were packed. While passengers lined up for entrance upstairs, uniformed workers raced past the lower loading areas with cans, food boxes and equipment.

Gina leaned against a rail, watching huge drums of cooking oil being rolled toward the ship’s stores. The head of beverage services stood in the middle of the chaos, looking perfectly made up and very smug. Gina wasn’t up with all the fashion trends, but she suspected that Blaine Richardson’s cropped red sweater was a Prada original. How you could afford designer clothes on a head of beverage service’s salary was a mystery to Gina. Then again most things about Blaine were a mystery to Gina.

As a seabird circled overhead, she rubbed her neck, smoothing knots of tension. All she wanted to do was sit down and close her eyes for a few minutes before the dinner madness began, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen.

Blaine was gesturing to her from the deck, and talking to Blaine was never a good thing.

Gina crossed the deck warily. “You wanted something?”

“No, but you will.”

The mysterious act again. “I don’t see any problems, Blaine. I logged all my stores in the ship’s computer three days ago. I’m good to go.”

Blaine studied a crimson nail and yawned. “Really?”

Whenever Blaine struck a casual pose like this, disaster always waited right around the corner.

“There’s no problem for me. But you’ve definitely got one. You should have been here earlier when the men began to load. There were space issues inside one of the refrigerated units. You remember when the thermostat started acting up, don’t you?” Her voice was sweet.

About as sweet as poisoned fruit, Gina thought. “That thermostat was supposed to be replaced here in California.”

“Afraid they couldn’t find the right parts.” Blaine studied another crimson nail. “That means no repair and no guarantees on anything stored in that unit.” She yawned dramatically. “Lucky for me that I’m an early riser. I made sure that all my stores were put in the functioning units. Since you weren’t here…”

The workers had diverted her food to a malfunctioning unit?

Gina stiffened, hit by a wave of anger. The day before she had been busy doing a favor for the cruise line bigwigs. Earlier in the morning she had had to catch up with her work on board. Meanwhile, the Wicked Witch of the West had been here sabotaging her pastry stores. Any pastry chef knew that chocolate was very temperature-sensitive, with an ideal storage temperature between fifteen and eighteen degrees centigrade. Fluctuations in temperature could result in melting and subsequent recrystalization of the cocoa butter fat. The surface powder or “bloom” was death to good pastry, requiring a new round of tempering.

Now Gina would have to beg, wheedle and trade favors to find adequate space for her sensitive chocolates and edible flowers in the ship’s already tight refrigerated areas. There was no way she’d ask Blaine to share her space.

Not that asking would help.

Never pleasant, Blaine had lapsed into full bitch mode after she learned that Gina was being considered for a food series on national TV. Since that day three months ago, it had become Blaine’s sole goal in life to beat out Gina with her own wine series, and her sabotage efforts were becoming more difficult to avoid. Gina had spoken to the head of food services twice, but he had been no help.

No surprise there. Blaine was boffing the man every chance she got. There was little that didn’t get noticed aboard a crowded ship, and crew gossip had pinpointed the spots and times, right down to the noise level and positions involved.

Ugh. Some details you just didn’t want to know.

“Thanks for all your help, Blaine.” Gina’s voice was icy. “You’re a real team player.”

Blaine buffed another nail. “Nobody said it was a team sport, honey. Just remember. If I don’t get a TV series, then nobody on board does.”

“Wow. Now there’s a healthy adult attitude.”

Much as she would have liked to, Gina didn’t stay around to trade insults.

She had a pallet of varietal semisweet chocolate to rescue before it started to sweat.

WHEN GINA TURNED into the corridor to the rear storage area, she nearly ran into her Brazilian sous chef. Andreas looked exhausted and worried. “He wants you and it’s not pretty.”

“Who wants me?” Gina ran through any recent problems with personnel, management or the captain and was relieved when she found none.

“Tobias Hale from security. He was down at the kitchen ten minutes ago. And ten minutes before that. He said you were to go straight to his office as soon as you came aboard.”

“Can’t. Gotta go save a ton of expensive chocolate from imminent peril. The Wicked Witch sent them over to the malfunctioning cooler.”

Andreas muttered a string of harsh words in Portuguese street slang. “You want me to help you with this transfer?”

“I can manage. But come back when you’ve finished checking on the tarts for dinner. We may have to work fast.”

“Nothing to sweat for, boss.” Andreas’s English was very good, but he occasionally mixed an idiom. “I will come soon. But Tobias—”

“Can wait.” The ship’s security chief was six feet five inches tall, built like an oak tree and had the smooth, dark features of a slightly younger James Earl Jones. He stopped fights with one glance and shot fear into the hearts of boisterous travelers and drunken crew alike. Because of him the ship never had security problems. The crew scuttlebutt said that he was a former CIA operative; others said he was ex-Delta Force. Maybe both were right.

His orders were never ignored.

But Gina did that now. She had her food to protect.

She was racing along the corridor to the galley so fast that she didn’t see a hand truck half hidden by a box of cleaning supplies. Her ankle hit metal and she went flying headfirst, skinning her palms, elbows and one cheek.

Closing her eyes to the sudden burst of pain, she sat up slowly.

A worried face loomed over her. The cleaning man shoved his hand truck back against the wall. “You okay? I had to use the bathroom. Sorry about that. Hey, you’re the one who made the rum cake for my birthday last month. Man, it was great.” He offered her his hand and tugged her to her feet.

Gina blinked, feeling a little dizzy. “Glad to hear you liked it.”

“Ma’am, you don’t look so good. You want me to get someone—like a doctor or something?”

“I’ll be fine. Just be sure you store that hand truck so no one else trips over it.”

“Sure. Real sorry about that. By the way, Tobias Hale is looking for you.”

Great.

Gina dug a tissue from her pocket and limped off. Most of the blood was gone by the time she located her chocolate pallet, just in time to keep it from being loaded into the cooler with the unreliable thermostat. After fifteen minutes of mixed pleas, promises and threats, she found an alternate berth in a different unit, but it meant volunteering to prepare special desserts for staff dinners the following month.

Next time she’d definitely beat Blaine to the dock. And until then she’d remember to watch her back.

When Gina finally reached the kitchen, she sank wearily into a chair, kicked off her shoes and pressed a bag of ice against her bruised cheek.

“Want to tell me what you are doing?”

“Resting?” She didn’t look up. She knew that deep voice, and there was no ignoring its edge of anger. “I had to rescue some chocolate.” She sighed. “And after that I was trying to avoid running into you.”

“In my office.” There was steel in Tobias Hale’s order. “Five minutes, Gina. Otherwise I’ll put you on report.”

If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have jumped up and saluted. “Aye-aye, sir.”

“Don’t bother sounding nice and obedient. We both know you’d like to insert one of your favorite knitting needles up my…nose. So stop smiling and get over to my office.”

One more fire to put out, Gina thought wearily. What had she done to piss off Tobias so royally?

She rubbed a fresh trickle of blood off her cheek and wiggled back into her shoes. Whoever thought cooking was glamorous needed to have a serious mental evaluation.

CHAPTER TEN

“YOU SHOULD HAVE told me.”

“Told you what?” Gina paced Tobias’s small office, watching seabirds rocket past the porthole. The ship was two hours out of San Francisco, following the curve of California south to Mexico. Given the hum of the big engines, she put their speed around fifteen knots.

Funny how she’d picked up the maritime life. Now it seemed like second nature. She was going to miss all of this when she left.

When she had to leave.

She prayed it wouldn’t be soon.

“Stop pacing like a scrawny, caged cat.”

“Who’s scrawny?” Gina muttered.

Tobias sat down at his desk and glared at her. “You know damned well what I mean. You’re not eating enough. You’re not sleeping enough. Scrawny,” the big security officer repeated flatly. “Bad-tempered and wound up tight.”

Gina started to rub her forehead, then caught herself. Tobias missed nothing. She couldn’t give any sign of the headache that was digging in behind her eyes. “You have a cigarette?”

“Why? You gave them up four years ago.”

“Right. Then how about some of those lemon drops you think you’ve kept hidden in the top left drawer of your desk?”

Tobias flipped open a drawer and tossed her a bag of candy. “Don’t change the subject. I know what’s going on.”

What was he talking about? Had she forgotten to return those last two videos of 24 from the ship’s video library? Did she owe money for uniform laundry?

No to both. But something had Tobias riled up big-time.

She savored the bite of a sour lemon ball, frowning. “Gee, Tobias, I don’t know what—”

“Of course you do. You were pale and shaky out at that damned pastry class you refused to say no to. You were dizzy by the end.”

“Oh, that.” She should have known Tobias would get reports on staff activities ashore. The man was spooky in his ability to gather information. She shrugged. “Didn’t sleep very well last night. Must be too much partying.”

“Partying, my ass. You don’t party. You don’t take time off. You work twenty hours out of every twenty-four and your staff is worried about you.”

Gina stopped pacing. “They told you that?”

“I had two worried calls today. Everyone says you looked pale yesterday.”

“Things were hectic.”

The security chief snorted. “Try again.”

So much for fooling her staff. “Look, I—I’m fine, Tobias. I was tired and too rushed to eat. Everything piled up.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re still pale. Something else is going on.” The head of security steepled his fingers and stared at her. “Level with me, or I’ll get really nasty.”

Gina cast about desperately for another excuse. “A truck ladder broke and almost hit us. Things were looking nasty.”

“I know all about the lieutenant with the medals who saved the day.”

“Is there anything you miss?”

“Not if I can help it. So did you get the man’s name?”

“No. Should I have? We weren’t contemplating marriage,” she said dryly.

“I’m just curious. And I’ll take the rest of those lemon sours, if you’re done shredding the bag.”

Gina took a breath and handed the bag back to Tobias. “Do you have boxes of these stashed somewhere? They’re imported from France, so you can’t just pick them up at the local Wal-Mart.”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” His lips curved faintly. “So they say.”

“When are you going to tell me the truth, Tobias? Were you Delta Force or a Green Beret?”

The security chief moved his fingers over the single photo on his desk. It was a shot of a woman at a distance, her face blurred by the sunlight pouring over the mountain at her back. The thick trees could have been in Mississippi or Connecticut or Guatemala. Gina had often wanted to ask about the woman, but Tobias wasn’t the sort of man you crowded with personal questions.

“What I was doesn’t matter. It’s over. That me is dead.” He sat up stiffly as if the words had surprised him. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Fine. I’ll eat. I’ll sleep. I’ll be more careful in the future.” And I’ll learn to lie a whole lot better, too.

Keen eyes swept her face. “Pressure is part of the job. You’ve dealt with it before without any problem. Something’s different now.”

No kidding.

Now my eyes ache and I keep failing my peripheral vision tests. Occasionally colors blur and lines of print wobble. “Nothing important, I promise you.”

The dramatically handsome security officer leaned back in his chair. He straightened a pen and pencil near his phone, then looked up. “That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

No fooling Tobias, Gina thought glumly. But she said nothing. If he reported her as unable to work, she’d have to appear for a medical evaluation, and any serious exam would reveal anomalies in her last set of vision tests. It would only be a matter of time before her condition went on record for personnel and everyone else to see.

No way. This chef was going to die in the saddle. What else could she do but cook? Once upon a time she’d had a different job back in Seattle. She’d been damned good at the job, too.

Ancient history.

Gina knew she’d go crazy if she had to stare at her hands and do nothing while she waited for the color loss and double vision that signaled final optic nerve deterioration.

So she had to lie through her teeth and convince Tobias she was in perfect shape to work. Not that it was a lie; the day she couldn’t do her job was the day she’d turn in her resignation.

Of course it was never a good idea to have a blind person working near an open fire.

Tobias leaned back in his chair. “Stop that.”

“What?”

“Trying to cook up a lie. It won’t work. You know, I thought we were friends. Friends don’t lie to friends.”

Yeah, they were friends. They’d shared some bad jokes during awful storms at sea. They had worked together for five years on more cruises than Gina could count, and they spent Thursday nights playing poker in a secret, rotating location with only select crew in attendance. She counted Tobias as a true friend.

But some things you didn’t share.

After her dad’s death, Gina’s mother had flaked out completely. Unable to function, she’d lived on medications that left her half asleep most of the day. She hadn’t accepted what was going on around her. Instead, she’d built a wall of denial and vanished behind it.

That wasn’t happening to Gina.

Tobias had a right to expect the truth from her, but friendship had its limits. How did you tell a friend that you were going blind? That the meds were working, but only to a point and one morning you’d wake up to see shadows and squiggles. About that time Gina’s color vision would become unreliable. Outlines would blur and the headaches would ratchet up.

She closed her eyes. Dear God, she needed more time. How could she break the news to someone else when she still hadn’t come to grips with it?

“No more evasions.” His voice was rough with concern. “Damn it, Gina, I want to help but I don’t know how.”

It was his baffled anger that finally cut through her defenses. Pity or concern she would have dismissed easily, but anger was something she understood too well. Anger had become her closest companion in the past few months. Little things, nothing things, left her shaken and furious.

Meanwhile, Tobias wouldn’t let go until he had answers.

“It’s personal, Tobias. I have to deal with this myself.”

His eyes narrowed. “Personal how? Blaine trouble?”

Blaine. He thought that was her big problem. If only he were right.

Gina cleared her throat. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak.

She didn’t try to make up a story. The man would spot it in a second. “If things get desperate, I’ll come to you—I promise.” That was true. Tobias was the only one she could trust. Her staff was too emotional. They would worry and intervene and hover. They’d want medical details and the name of her doctor. They’d need to try to change what couldn’t be changed.

Only Tobias would be cool and practical. Gina needed that if she was going to face the truth, not live on wishes and impossible hopes for a cure.

Her throat was raw. She locked her hands, trying to stay calm.

“Here.” He held out a white handkerchief. “Your cheek is bleeding again.”

She took the soft cloth, feeling her cheek burn as the soft cotton pressed against her skin. “If things change, you’ll be the first to know. Isn’t that enough?”

“I guess it will have to be. I know you keep your promises. But we can’t avoid this conversation forever.”

Gina took a long, rasping breath, feeling lost and afraid of the future. It was past time she faced that future.

All at once, she blurted out the words that couldn’t be trapped inside any longer. They fought her, demanding to be heard, demanding an honesty that felt like sandpaper on an open wound.

“I’m…going blind, Tobias. That’s pretty much it, soup to nuts. It’s a nerve degeneration problem and I’ve got meds to slow it down, but there’s no cavalry over the hill and no cure in sight.” She sat stiffly. “I didn’t want to tell you. Now if you don’t mind—I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Head between your knees.” Gentle hands pushed her forward, rubbed her neck while she gulped in air and tears seared her eyelids.

He didn’t speak. When her shaking had stopped, he sat forward. “What’s the specific diagnosis?”

Gina said the long, barely pronounceable Greek name. She’d avoided the word for so long that it was a relief to say it out loud.

“Which means?”

“Optic nerve damage of unknown origins. My doctor in Palo Alto says it will probably be months. Maybe I’ll get two good years before…” Her fingers twisted, locked. “I need to work until then, Tobias. If I lose that, I’ve lost everything. Working is what I know best. I’ve got no family to speak of, and my friends are all here. This will never impact the ship or my staff, I promise.”

He didn’t speak. He crossed his arms at his chest and stared out the window. Two seagulls dove into churning waves, then reappeared carrying small fish that wiggled vainly.

Gina knew exactly how those small fish felt.

“So you want me to keep your secret, even if it means breaking a dozen company regulations?”

“What are rules if you don’t break them once in a while?” She squared her shoulders. She wouldn’t grovel. She’d quit first.

Tobias studied the neat piles of paperwork on his desk. “I never break the rules.” He leaned toward the picture, then stopped abruptly. “Only once. That was enough.” He swiveled in his chair, his face a mask. “Here’s the way it will go. This stays between us for now. You report to me every week and I see your medical files. If your symptoms change, you tell me immediately. Understood?”

It was better than she could have hoped. Worse, too, since she hated the thought of giving up her privacy, even to this friend.

Too bad her choices were a little limited at the moment.

“I accept. Thank you, Tobias.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said tightly. “It’s my job to push.” He made a dismissive sound, then looked out the window. After a long time he picked up a set of keys from his desk. “Take care of yourself. And stay away from Blaine. She’s gunning for you bad now.”

“I got that message, believe me.”

“So watch your back. And get Andreas to take over the heavy lifting. He’s good, so let him do more.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

Tobias frowned. “I mean it. Start delegating or I’ll report you.” His eyes were steely. “Don’t mess with me, Ryan.”

“I won’t.” This time her voice was soft, hesitant. “Delegate.” She snapped a small salute. “Even if it kills me.”

“It’s a hard thing to learn, but your people have to advance sometime.” He stood up, shaking his head. “I thought it was money problems, or Blaine. Maybe something with an old boyfriend. Nothing like this.”

Gina gripped his arm for a moment. She didn’t cry this time. The tears were gone. Saying the words had driven them away.

She stood up, smoothed her hair. “Hell, isn’t it? So what happens now?”

“Work. The usual grind. And we live for Thursday nights.” He smiled slightly. “You got all that stuff we ordered in San Francisco?”

“Safe and sound in my cabin. Andreas brought the second box himself. Brown paper wrappers, just the way you asked.”

“One more thing.” His forehead furrowed. “A friend of yours contacted corporate to set up some time with you. The cruise brass okayed it.” Tobias glanced at his computer screen. “Carly McKay, wife of Ford McKay. Three children traveling with them.”

“Carly’s here? But she isn’t supposed to be taking the cruise until next month.”

“They boarded three hours ago. Her husband looks like an interesting guy.” Tobias scrolled through the passenger information, his eyes intent. “Navy, I see.” He kept on scrolling. “A man who’s been a lot of places.”

“Something wrong with that?”

“Not that I can tell. Your friend has your ship e-mail address and she wanted to get together later today if you have time.”

Gina hid a grimace. The first few days at sea were always hectic. Tonight would be worse than usual due to the malfunctioning refrigeration unit. But she and Carly had been college roommates. It had been far too long since they’d been able to meet. How could she refuse?

“Okay, I’ll e-mail her back. I’ll check with the captain about—”

Tobias waved one hand. “Already done. Strings have been pulled. As long as your work is complete, you can see your friend whenever you like.”

“I appreciate it, Tobias.”

“Thank corporate. All I did was field the calls.” He cleared his computer screen and stood up abruptly.