Haunted Destiny by Heather Graham Page B

tunes herself or called on a friend to do so. At one point she saw Bradley Wilcox looking into the room over the small carved wood banister that separated the lounge from the hallway.
    Watching her.
    Judging her.
    Alexi didn’t care. The audience was lively and her confidence soared back. She knew she was good at what she did.
    She smiled at Jensen Hardy, the cruise director, coming down the hall. He loved the piano bar, loved dropping in. He had a pleasant singing voice, but neither his natural talent nor his training was quite up to par, not compared to performers like Ralph and Clara. In the “quickie” bits of music that were done on board, he was always the announcer.
    She assumed he’d come to sing.
    But he wasn’t going to sing that night. Bradley Wilcox stopped him in the hallway, and although Wilcox didn’t move and kept his voice low, Alexi could see that he was reprimanding Jensen Hardy for one thing or another.
    Idiot!
    At the moment there was nothing she could do to help Jensen. Besides, the eternally cheerful Jensen would probably just shake it off.
    Clara sat at the piano bench by Alexi’s side and when she could, she whispered, “I’ll hang out with you until the bitter end, I promise. And don’t tell me I’m being silly. The killer was in New Orleans. New Orleans! You’re not walking to your cabin alone.”
    â€œIt’s okay. You can leave when you’re tired. Get Simon or one of the other guys to take you back, okay?”
    â€œI don’t want you alone.”
    â€œI won’t be alone.”
    â€œOh?” Clara asked.
    Alexi indicated Jude McCoy. In his evening apparel, he was extremely presentable. He managed to look casual, and yet a little larger than life.
    â€œOhhh.” Clara grinned. “Hobnobbing with the higher-ups of the company, huh? I’m so glad. You need to hobnob. You haven’t...hobnobbed in forever. Hobnobbing would be good for you. Hobnobbing is a basic instinct, you know.”
    Alexi felt a flush cover not only her face, but also her whole body from head to toe.
    â€œIt’s just business.”
    Clara laughed at that and Alexi flinched. Yes, her words could have been construed in a different way.
    â€œNo, I mean I’m an entertainment liaison, that’s all.”
    Clara studied Jude McCoy and then turned back to Alexi. “It shouldn’t be just business. Men like him don’t come along every day. And,” she added, “I’m talking about more than his looks.”
    â€œHey! I’m working here!” Alexi reminded her. “Right now, as we speak.”
    Clara smiled. “So is the little beauty on the arm of our billionaire, Hank Osprey.” The young woman was, indeed, working it; she leaned against Hank and seemed to be enchanted by his every word.
    And despite the fact that Jude McCoy was engaged in conversation with Roger and Lorna, Alexi could tell that he was also aware of Hank and his young woman.
    Finally, the crowd began to thin.
    When Hank left with his lady friend, Alexi noted that Jude McCoy made a phone call.
    Would Jackson Crow now be following the man?
    Because it was evident that Jude McCoy meant to keep his word. He’d be seeing her back to her cabin.
    Last call was announced.
    Roger and Lorna Antrim thanked her for a great evening and left. Three young women traveling together departed arm in arm.
    A retired couple, charming, older—and obviously still very much in love—came to the piano to tell her what a wonderful time they’d had. The bar was closed.
    Ralph Martini yawned. “Gotta call it a night!” he said.
    â€œWe all need to call it a night,” Simon agreed. “Hey!” he said cheerfully to Jude. “You didn’t sing.”
    â€œI thought I’d spare you.” Jude gave them a self-deprecating grin, telling the Les Miz cast members that he was looking forward to their final night’s