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  LUCKY FOR LOVE

  BY

  MARINA OLIVER

  Can one find love a second time? Julie, still mourning her husband Andrew, who was killed in a car smash three years ago, doesn't expect to when she is bullied into taking a cruise by her sister Susan, who works in the gift shop on the ship. She is resigned rather than enthusiastic, and recalls her earlier holiday when she tried to forget Andrew. That was a disaster when, thrown together with Steven, the only other singleton in the party, she misread his attentions - and intentions.

  Robert, who lost his fiancée just before their wedding, and hasn't looked at another woman since, has other things on his mind as he tries to solve the mystery of thefts from wealthy passengers who inhabit the expensive penthouse suites. With the help of his aunt and cousin, who will invite suspects to parties in their suite, he hopes to trap the thief.

  And then Steven takes a hand. Julie is furious with Susan, who has engineered his presence, and does her best to evade him, but Stephen is hoping to pick up the relationship again and is impervious to snubs.

  Lucky For Love

  By Marina Oliver

  Copyright © 2012 Marina Oliver

  Smashwords Edition

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  Cover Design by Debbie Oliver

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

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  See details of other books by Marina Oliver at

  http:/www.marina-oliver.net.

  Author Note

  I've been lucky enough to do several lecture cruises on luxury ships, and always meant to set a romance on one. Most cruises last around two weeks, so the progression of any romance has to be swift, the attraction immediate, and opportunities for development frequent. One meets entertaining, interesting, and sometimes odd characters, amongst passengers and crew. As a guest lecturer I was privy to some of the behind the scenes activity as well as being with the passengers.

  LUCKY FOR LOVE

  BY MARINA OLIVER

  Chapter 1

  'You need a break, a holiday, but one where you'll meet people, not sit in a hotel room on your own, pining,' Susan Phillips had declared.

  Julie Carstairs suppressed a grin. Susan was still the same bossy elder sister she had been in her teens, but it would be useless to tell her so. If she pretended to listen Susan would probably forget it by next week. And she didn't pine all the time. Not every day, at least.

  'You mean some sort of residential course?' Julie Carstairs asked. 'I tried that last year, and just came to the conclusion I had absolutely no talent for either sketching or painting. No thanks, it simply made me feel utterly useless.'

  Susan was impatient. 'Not that sort of break. I am suggesting a cruise, that's what you should do. And if you came with me you wouldn't be alone, even though I'm working on the ship.'

  'Me? A cruise? But Susan, surely only old people, pensioners, go on cruises?'

  Susan laughed. 'You're out of touch, Julie. Not these days. We even have children, but not many, and it's not holiday time. Some of the bigger ships have special facilities, crêches and playgroups, but thank goodness our ship is one of the small ones, and we haven't gone that far.'

  'I'll think about it.' That would shut Susan up. She had thought about it, for an hour or two, and dismissed the idea. It didn't sound like her at all.

  *

  Robert Fellows glanced up from the papers he was reading, and across the aisle towards the girl in the first seat. He didn't seem able to stop looking at her. It wasn't just her looks. She was pretty, with her dark auburn curly hair and pale face, but nothing like as beautiful as the red-haired girl seated next to him, or Lucy, who had changed his life six years ago. Yet something about her attracted his attention. Perhaps it was the slight droop to her shoulders, the resigned attitude he detected in her down-turned lips, but most of all the wistfulness he'd seen in her clear green eyes when she happened to glance towards him for a moment.

  She'd looked straight through him, it had seemed, as though her thoughts were far away, and not very pleasant ones at that. It was not the sort of expression to be expected of someone setting off on holiday in the south of Spain. Most of the other passengers seemed to be looking forward to a time in the sun. Some of them, no doubt, would be heading for a cruise ship, others driving off to hotels and villas along the Costa del Sol. It wasn't the height of the holiday season, but the plane was full. Plenty of Brits thought two weeks in Spain's winter sun, or on a luxury cruise to the Canaries preferable to the cold in England.

  He shook his head to clear it. He had no time to waste wondering about the sorrows of a stranger, and no interest in women since he'd lost Lucy. He had a job to do, one which needed his full concentration, and if he didn't manage to solve the mystery in the next two weeks the police would have to be brought in, with all the bad publicity for the firm that would produce. But he couldn't resist looking to see whether she wore a wedding ring, and was oddly cheered to see she didn't. Her only ring was a deep green emerald worn on her right hand. Emeralds, he recalled, implied wisdom and love, and to give a lover an emerald made them faithful. It was a symbol of hope. Well, that remained to be tested.

  *

  Julie sat hunched in her seat. She'd refused the plastic lunch offering, apart from a tiny cup of coffee, and was wishing she hadn't allowed Susan, on a few days off while the cruise ship she worked on underwent a minor overhaul, to hustle her into coming. Susan hadn't permitted her time to think, but then Susan never did stop to think herself, she was far more impulsive than Julie had ever been. If she'd had longer to consider it she'd have been stronger, and refused. It had been the anniversary of Andrew's death, and she'd been vulnerable, so when Susan produced photographs of the ship and itineraries, and talked about the facilities and the many wonderful places it called at, she had shrugged and agreed, so here they were, starting off from Malaga and heading for the Canaries, with a final stop in Casablanca. It had been easier to let her sister have her own way, and make all the arrangements.

  Though she was committed now Julie still wasn't at all sure about this holiday, but then, she hadn't been sure of much for ages. Two years ago she'd thought she was at last getting over her loss, even beginning to open her mind to the possibility of happiness once more, and then it had all fallen apart again.

  She took a deep breath. She must shake off this negative attitude, she had to try and enjoy herself, if only for Susan's sake. It was only for two weeks, and on the bright side was the fact she would not have to cook. Devising interesting meals for one was usually too much trouble, and she normally ended up with something on toast, or a freezer meal. At least on the ship she'd have plenty of choice, and from the sample menus Susan had displayed, things she didn't normally taste unless she went out with friends. She could make the big decisions she'd been putting off for months when she got back to England.

  She could hear Susan chattering to the woman in the window seat. From the occasional words she caught it seemed as though the woman was a fellow passenger, but one who had never before been on a cruise. Susan was reassuring her that the ship was stable, she wouldn't fee
l the movement, and she need not worry about being on her own.

  'There are plenty of other singles,' Susan said. 'You'll soon meet people to talk to. And if you play bridge there are regular games. Why, there are even men to dance with.'

  The woman laughed, and said her dancing days were long over, but she did play bridge.

  Julie stopped listening. She wondered whether Susan was expecting her to talk to other passengers, to bare her soul, perhaps? She shook her head slightly. She'd resolutely avoided talking about herself and her feelings after Andrew died, even to friends, apart from that one occasion when she had let her guard drop, and what a disaster that had been. It had only reawakened the agony she'd thought was beginning to lessen.

  Well, she could relax in the sun. And there would be the various stops where she could try to forget, though perhaps seeing the places she and Andrew had intended to visit one day might not be the best way to forget how life had treated her.

  She firmly told herself brooding was useless. Susan was right, it was time she made decisions, got on with her life. Should she sell the house and move to a different town, start again where no one knew her, instead of remaining where people either avoided the subject or told her to snap out of it and find another man? She didn't want another man, and recalling her friends' occasional well-meaning introductions to eligible males made her alternately laugh at their ideas of the sort of men she might like, or become annoyed they might believe she could fall in love with such confirmed bachelors or predatory divorced men looking for someone to minister to their creature comforts. She hadn't been attracted to any of them. They were either the nerdy types who hadn't bothered to find a girl friend, or the brash, over-confident ones on their second or even third divorces. She had no desire to change the first, nor become a notch on the others' bedposts.

  Yet, a wayward thought intruded, would she refuse if, say, a man like the one seated across the aisle showed any interest in her? He was tall and dark, and his profile as good as any she'd seen on TV. The typical romantic tall dark and handsome hero. Once she had glanced across to find him looking directly at her, and had been slightly shocked by the intent look in his eyes. Deep-set, grey eyes fringed with impossibly long and thick lashes. Any girl would die for those, she'd thought before turning away. But she kept thinking about him. Early thirties, she judged. Was he married to the gorgeous red-head seated next to him? She'd had the impression he'd been talking to her and the older woman in the window seat beyond her. A man like him had to be married. He couldn't have reached his age without some girl finding him. She couldn't see his ring finger, but what would that prove? Not all men wore wedding rings. Besides, he was so gorgeous he was bound to be arrogant, for he would have silly women falling over each other to attract his attention.

  She shook her head at her wayward thoughts. What was she doing, thinking in such terms about a complete stranger? Susan was right, she needed to get a life. It was time to let go of the past. She twisted her ring. When he'd given it to her on their first anniversary Andrew had said emeralds were lucky for love, and brought tranquillity. She must, she decided, make more of an effort to help the emerald. It couldn't bring Andrew back, but when she got back home she would make some changes. Exactly what she didn't know, but maybe during this next fortnight she could start to think about it, make plans, and acquire some peace.

  *

  'Please remain seated until the plane has come to a halt,' the pilot intoned, but many of the passengers in aisle seats ignored him. They were standing up to open the lockers, locate their bags and be first off the plane.

  'Though why they bother when we only have to wait for our main luggage,' Susan said, glaring at an offending man from the row in front, who oozed fat and was dressed in shorts and a scruffy tee shirt. 'Why didn't we come on a regular flight instead of charter?'

  Julie put back her head and closed her eyes. 'You arranged it. Don't fret, big sister.'

  A moment later she felt her shoulder jolted and looked up in annoyance to see the man who'd occupied the seat across the aisle from her clutching a bag which had fallen from the opened locker. It was inches from her head.

  'Watch what you're doing!' she said furiously, shaking from shock. 'That could have brained me!'

  Then she realised her mistake as the man, raising his eyebrows slightly, handed the bag to the fat man in shorts and turned away.

  She bit her lip. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered, embarrassed. He must have moved remarkably swiftly to catch the bag and save her a nasty bump, or even worse injury. He gave a brief nod, and reached up to the locker opposite to hand down bags to the women sitting beside him.

  He wore a lightweight grey suit, beautifully cut, fitting him perfectly. He looked more like a businessman than a tourist, though his shoulders were broad and his hips narrow, muscles rippling beneath the jacket.

  Julie had a mental vision of him in swimming trunks, and blinked hard. What was the matter with her? She didn't react like this to men, even when they looked like movie stars. She never had, except to Andrew, and that one dreadful mistake since.

  The sisters waited until the gangway was clear before collecting their own hand baggage, and Susan chuckled as their cases appeared on the carousel while the fat man was still waiting, dancing from one foot to the other with impatience.

  'Serve the fat slob right. I hope to goodness he's not with us. He doesn't look the cruising type, somehow. I bet he's off to the nearest beach where he can find English beer and fried breakfasts.'

  Julie had been looking about her, trying to locate the man who had caught the bag, but he'd vanished. She wanted to apologise, and thank him more gracefully than the first time. Either he'd been exceptionally lucky and his bag had arrived at once, or he travelled light with only hand luggage.

  As they went outside she saw him standing by the edge of the pavement, with the women who'd been sitting by him. Both of them were slim and elegantly dressed. His wife and her mother, she wondered? There was a slight resemblance, though the older woman's hair was brown, not flaming red.

  Just then a taxi drew to a halt beside them, but before they could climb in the fat man, followed by an equally fat woman wearing a tight tee shirt and tight spangle-scattered jeans, had rushed up and opened the boot, and begun to fling in several cases. Julie felt her hackles rise. He was even more of a mannerless boor than his appearance suggested.

  To her amused satisfaction the other man stepped forward, and calmly removed the bags. Julie was too far away to hear the exchange, but after waving his arms about in a threatening manner, the fat one shrugged, piled his bags back onto the trolley, and dashed across to another taxi. The women, who had been standing back during the altercation, climbed in the taxi. Julie was not sure, but she thought he bent down and kissed the red-head. Then he stepped back and waved to them as the taxi departed.

  So he wasn't with them. Julie experienced a moment of satisfaction, and chided herself. What did it matter to her? She'd never meet him again. Not unless he was on the return flight, she thought, and blushed. She didn't fantasise about men like this, even when they were handsome and elegant. Especially not when they were handsome and elegant! Then he hailed another taxi, climbed in and was whisked away.

  She felt an odd sense of loss. She'd certainly never see him again unless he was booked on the same cruise, but if so, why wasn't he waiting for the buses that were to take them to the docks? It wasn't likely such a man would go on a cruise. She must get a grip. She didn't want a man, with all the complications it would cause.

  *

  'This is a horrible mistake,' she said an hour later, gritting her teeth as the coach jolted over a bump in the road. 'I shouldn't have let you persuade me to come.'

  Susan, smaller and darker than Julie, equally slim, her puckish face surrounded by dark curly hair, grinned at her. 'Cheer up, we'll soon be on the boat, and then it will be different, I promise. You'll see.'

  Julie frowned. Would it? She'd only been away from home on a proper ho
liday once, a year after Andrew died, when Susan had persuaded her she had to stop mourning and had taken her to stay in a villa rented with some friends. That had ended in disaster when she'd made an utter fool of herself.

  She stared out at the scrubby hillside festooned with pastel-painted villas, and tried to forget. It was the similarity of the country, the seaside, the shimmering heat, the aromatic scents drifting down from the hills that brought back these unpleasant memories.

  'Why don't we go straight to the boat? I wonder if that man who sat by us on the flight and took the taxi knew what we were in for? Oh, but I suppose he could be going somewhere else.' She really must stop thinking about him. 'Why this pointless trip along the Costa whatever it is?'

  The woman across the aisle grinned sympathetically at her.

  'It often happens. The flight has to be early, to take back the ones who've finished their holidays, and they aren't ready for us on the boat. They need time for the changeover.'

  Julie nodded. It was turning out as frustrating as she'd expected.

  'So they send us off to some Spanish seaside resort for a couple of hours, when all I want is to unpack and put my feet up.'

  Susan laughed. 'Cheer up, sis. At least it isn't high season, so the place won't be crawling with Brits and kids. October's still warm, and we can indulge in a gin and tonic. That'll cheer you up.'

  Julie subsided, laid her head back against the seat, and closed her eyes. There was no point in complaining and upsetting Susan. She still wished she hadn't allowed her sister to bully her into this trip, but it was done now. She could either endure it, or make some effort and try to enjoy it. She and Andrew had never been cruising. And now he never would.

  A tear squeezed its way between her eyelids, and she surreptitiously wiped it away with her finger. This was ridiculous. Andrew had been dead for three years. She'd thought she was recovering. Never forgetting, she told herself hurriedly, but the pain and the shock of his sudden death had begun to grow less sharp.