The Celestial Star cruised smoothly through the open sea, but inside Alexander's mind, a storm was brewing.
The mysterious waitress—whoever she was—had slipped through his fingers last night. But she couldn't avoid him forever. Not on a ship in the middle of the ocean.
The breakfast lounge was quieter than the ballroom had been, filled mostly with early risers sipping coffee and scanning the horizon. He took a seat by the window, waiting for her to appear.
And when she finally did, his pulse quickened.
She was different this morning. Gone was the stiff composure she'd forced last night. Now, she moved with a quiet efficiency, offering polite smiles to guests as she refilled their coffee. But Alexander noticed the way she avoided looking in his direction.
That only confirmed what he already knew.
She was hiding something.
When she neared his table, he let her come to him, watching as she hesitated before forcing herself to approach.
"Good morning, sir," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "Would you like some coffee?"
Alexander leaned back, studying her. "I'd prefer answers."
She inhaled sharply but quickly masked it. "Excuse me?"
"You know who I am," he said evenly. "And I know that you're lying about not knowing me. So why don't we cut the act?"
For a moment, something flashed in her eyes—something that looked a lot like regret. But then she straightened, tightening her grip on the coffee pot.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said softly. "I'm just doing my job."
"Right," Alexander murmured. "A waitress on a luxury cruise ship who reacts like she's seen a ghost when she looks at me."
She swallowed, glancing around as if making sure no one was listening. "Please, Mr. Graves, I don't want any trouble."
"Then tell me the truth."
Her breath hitched, and for a second, he thought she might. But then she took a step back, gripping the pot tighter. "Enjoy your breakfast, sir."
And just like that, she was gone again.
Alexander exhaled sharply, tapping his fingers against the table.
This wasn't just some case of mistaken identity. She was running from something. Or someone.
And whether she liked it or not, she had just made him very, very interested.