Page 48 of Fire and Ice Cruise

“Does he still have the handcuffs?” Nettie goes on. “Because I feel like that’s relevant information for the group.”

Bess groans. “We are not the group that needs this information.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m taking notes.”

Ransom nods. “For the record, I do still have handcuffs.”

My entire body goes hot. “You’re terrible,” I say with a laugh as I strangle his arm.

“You didn’t complain this morning.” He winks my way, and a laugh catches in my throat.

“Oh my word.” I bury my face in his shoulder and continue to chortle away without any sign of stopping.

“She’s blushing!” Nettie crows. “Look at those cheeks. That’s a yes on the handcuffs, ladies.”

“I’m changing the subject,” I announce.

“Why? We’re just getting to the good part,” Nettie says. “Ransom Baxter is the very best husband. Does he growl orders like he’s still reading someone their rights?” she asks me. “Because that’s the detail I need.”

Ransom’s chest shakes with a silent laugh that you can’t hear but you can sure see. I refuse to look at him.

“Nettie Butterworth, so help me—” I’m still trying to recover, but I can’t stop giggling.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Nettie spikes a finger into the air. “Ladies, the man growls!”

“Feel free to direct the questions to me,” Ransom says, rather innocently because obviously he has no idea what he’s opening himself up to. Either that or he totally does and he’s unabashedly unashamed.

“Oh, please don’t encourage her,” Bess is quick to reply.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Nettie balks. “This is an educational conversation.”

Ransom nods. “I’m all for educating the masses.”

I elbow him in the ribs, but I’m still laughing despite myself. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m never trying to help when Nettie’s on a roll. I’m just enjoying the show.”

“Some husband you are,” I tease.

“The best husband. Very hands-on, according to Nettie’s research.”

“I’m leaving you at the next port.”

“You’d miss me too much.”

He’s right, and we both know it. Even unemployed and currently enabling Nettie’s commentary on our sex life, the man is perfect beyond reason—both in and out of the bedroom.

“Look,” Bess says, clearly desperate to change the subject. “There’s a maritime museum. Now that’s educational.”

“Boring,” Nettie counters. “Do you know how many maritime museums we’ve been to on our adventures? I want trolls.”

“Trolls aren’t real,” Bess says in an effort to destroy Nettie’s dreams.

“And that’s what they say about you,” Nettie shoots back.

We’re wandering along the waterfront when I spot a flash of crimson hair near what appears to be another sort of museum. Marina’s standing apart from the crowd, her phone pressed to her ear, and even from here I can see she’s upset.

“Oh look, there’s Marina,” I say.