Page 30 of Haunting the Deep

“Call me Samantha.”

He smiles, and it’s hard not to smile back at him. His brown hair is combed perfectly, and his suit is obviously expensive. “And you must call me Alexander.”

“I will. I don’t like formality. Do you?”

He laughs. “Do not say that too loudly in here or a couple of old women might faint.”

I smile now, too. “They might not be the only ones. If I breathe too hard in this corset, I might pass out. Good thing these chairs have arms.”

“If they did not, I would catch you.”

Mollie was right. He’s definitely flirting with me. I clear my throat. “Where do you live?”

“New York City. Not far from the Harpers. I met you a couple of years back at one of their Christmas parties. Do you remember?”

Christmas party? I don’t remember. But New York City is right. “I’m sorry. I don’t. But then, I’m usually quiet at parties.” I pick up my crystal wineglass.

A waiter places a plate of grilled asparagus with lemon and olive oil in front of me.

“Did your uncle tell you the story of how we bought our way onto this liner at the last moment?”

I’m grateful for a subject that isn’t about me. “He didn’t. You tell me. Does it have some good scandal in it?”

He laughs. “Why, yes, I believe it does.”

My body vibrates slightly. Nausea? I put my glass down on the table.

Alexander frowns. “Samantha?”

I push my chair back, and all the men look at me. My body vibrates more violently. “I’m sorry. I need to be excused.”

I walk away as fast as my dress will permit. My arm jerks in front of me. The corset limits my air supply and the room spins. I push through the door and—

Someone leans over me, gently shaking my shoulder. I blink. His dark wavy hair casts shadows on his cheeks in the dim light. His lips part slightly and he exhales, the tension in his eyebrows lessening. He’s beautiful.

I sit straight up in my bed.How could he…I don’t understand.I rub my eyes just to make sure what I’m seeing is real.

“Elijah?”I say, my tone unsure. Could I be dreaming?

“Samantha,” he says with his old-world accent, and pauses. “Why would you put that dress on when you do not even know who sent it?” His look is accusatory.

Well, that clears that up. It’s Elijah, all right. But how?I examine my legs. I’m no longer wearing green silk, only my antique frilly undergarments. The corset is off, too. I can’t quite make sense of it all; my brain still feels foggy. “Did youundressme?”

“I could not wake you while the dress was on.” He stands. “How could you not think it might have a spell on it? Of allthe—”

“Wait, hold on a minute.” I stand up, too. My familiar room suddenly looks surreal with Elijah in it.

“How could you be so reckless?” Elijah continues in a disapproving tone.

I brush off his question, my own thoughts so tangled that I can only address one confusing situation at a time. “You’rehere? How can you be here?”

Elijah opens his mouth, but before he can say a word, I’m talking again.

“Have you been around this whole time?” My tone has turned from surprise to indignation.

“No.”

“Part of the time?”