Page 77 of Fire and Ice Cruise

The opening notes of “Happy Birthday” start, and the entire ballroom joins in.

I stand there next to Marina, both of us frozen in matching smiles that probably look more like grimaces, while the Golden Era Ballroom sings to us in slightly off-key and in unison. The chandeliers sparkle, the champagne fountain bubbles and all the while cameras flash our way.

Okay, I’ll admit it. This is mortifying and wonderful in equal measure.

The song ends with applause and a few wolf whistles, Nettie’s contribution, and we’re finally released back into the crowd.

The lights flicker again, then the music starts back up with something with actual bass this time, something you can’t ignore. Bodies hit the dance floor immediately as the energy cranks from celebratory to full party mode in approximately three seconds.

Nettie materializes with a wild look in her eyes. “CONGA LINE!”

“Nettie, no—” Bess starts.

Too late.

Nettie has already grabbed someone’s shoulders and is snaking through the crowd, picking up followers as though she’s the Pied Piper of bad decisions. Within minutes, fifteen people are conga-ing through the Golden Era Ballroom, and I’m pretty sure at least three of them are ship staff who got swept up in the chaos.

Bess sighs heavily and heads straight for the buffet. “She can conga. I’m going to eat my weight in shrimp.”

Wes and Ransom appear at our sides with perfect timing, as always. Wes turns to Marina with that smile that’s been showing up more and more lately. “Feel like hitting the dance floor?”

Just that fast, Marina’s face lights up. “I’d love⁠—”

Before she can finish her sentence, a crew member appears at Wes’s elbow, looking apologetic. “Captain? We need you on the bridge. There’s a bit of a weather situation.”

Wes’s expression shifts instantly into captain mode. He looks genuinely disappointed. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He disappears into the crowd, leaving Marina standing there looking like someone just canceled her birthday.

I turn to Ransom with a shrug. “You up for dancing with two birthday girls?”

Ransom opens his mouth to answer just as his phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reads the screen, and his jaw tightens. “Quinn needs me. If you ladies will excuse me, I’ll make this quick. Hold those dance cards open for me.”

He steps away, already typing a response, leaving Marina and me standing there like wallflowers at prom.

Marina gives a little laugh. “And then there were two. You feel like shaking it on the dance floor anyway?”

I’m about to say yes, that I’m more than ready to dance and celebrate and pretend fifty isn’t terrifying, when I spot Nicolette.

She’s standing alone at the far end of the ballroom, silhouetted against the windows. Outside, the Icelandic sky is turning a deep shade of purple, dramatic and moody, and she’s staring at it as though it holds answers she desperately needs.

Marina leans close, her voice dropping. “I found out some interesting things about our new friend Nicolette. We had a little heart-to-heart earlier, and let’s just say she did some oversharing.”

My pulse kicks up. “Are you willing to do a little oversharing yourself?”

Marina nods. “Wes told me you’re the best sleuth on this ship, bar none. Far be it from me to stall your investigation.”

“What did you glean?”

Marina glances at Nicolette, then leans in close and whispers in my ear.

And what she tells me makes my blood run cold.

“Oh wow.” I fan myself for a moment. “I say we have a little chat with our new friend.”

I’m already moving.

We make our way across the ballroom, leaving the party behind. The closer we get to the windows, the cooler the air becomes. This corner of the room exists in a different climate zone. Even the music sounds more subdued here, muffled by distance and glass.