Page 18 of Under the Radar
She’d wanted to hear from him?Something tight in Mac’s chest eased. “Let’s play a little game of phones. I’ll show you mine, and you show me yours. Meet me at my suite in an hour, and I’ll have dinner waiting.”
Mo narrowed her eyes. “Only if you throw in dessert. I’ve been really mad. You ghosted me.”
“Definitely dessert. I didn’t ghost you, and bring your phone.” He’d really missed this playful banter with her.
“Alright. I need the time anyway to shower and get the soda out of my hair. Suite number, please?” She picked up the complimentary pad and pen.
“First things first. Do you want to press charges against the couple in the brig?”
Mo shook her head. “That guy has a real problem. No doesn’t mean no to him. Maybe scare him so he doesn’t stalk somebody else? The wife might need an anger management class, although, I don’t blame her for being upset. I don’t want to press charges. It would be great to never see them again, but you can’t toss them overboard.”
“You’ll need to sign forms later stating you don’t want to press charges.”
She tossed a hand in the air. “Whatever. I’ll consider dinner in your suite as compensation enough. Thanks for the ride home.” She gave him a quizzical look. “How did we end up on the same ship?”
“We’ll find out tonight.” Mac ran his hand down her soft arm. “Dinner. One hour. Suite 317. Don’t forget your phone.” He traced the black and yellow discoloration on her cheek softly with his thumb. “Did he hurt you, Mo?”
She placed her hand over his fingers. “No. I fell in my kitchen the night before the cruise. I slipped on some water.”
Mac tipped her chin up so he could look squarely into her eyes. “You sure?” The thought of anyone hurting her gutted him.
She shrugged. “Yes, I’m sure. It was just me being a ditz and moving too fast.”
Mac hesitated a few seconds before letting it go. “I’ll see you in about an hour. Suite 317. Remember your phone.”
He let himself out and strode down the first long corridor, arranging food for their dinner through concierge services. He slipped the radio in his pocket. That shiner on Mo’s cheek was a real doozy. He’d question GQ about the bruise.
If that guy had marred Mo’s beautiful face? The man was definitely going overboard.