Mrs. Watkins’s eyes grew heavy as Gavin helped her stagger to her penthouse. I’ve got some job, he thought wistfully, jackassing people around a ship. But always the gentleman, he helped her with her key and guided her inside. She flopped down on her bed, fell back and immediately passed out. But not before the bracelet slipped off her wrist.

He had stood there staring, not wanting to move. Not knowing what to do. Suddenly, visions of financial independence danced in his head.

Who wouldn’t believe it had fallen off at some point during the evening? She had been babbling that the catch wasn’t working. People saw how wasted she was. She could have dropped it anywhere.

Could he risk taking it now? What if they started a search for it? The cruise line loved this woman. She always paid a pretty penny for this suite and would often book it on a whim. If anything made her unhappy, they immediately did their best to fix it. No, he’d have to hide it here in her suite and then, when the excitement of losing it had died down, he’d make his way back in and get it. Somehow.

Giddy with excitement, his armpits sweating, his heart pounding, he tried to figure out what to do. Her Highness was sprawled across the king-sized bed. Three steps up to the right was a loftlike living room complete with pastel couches, a big-screen television, state-of-the-art stereo system and a bar. A sliding glass door to the balcony lined one wall. And then his eyes caught it. The closet with the life preservers. They had already had their boat drill on this cruise, so there’d be no reason for anyone to go in there again . . .

He tiptoed over to the bed. Holding his breath, he leaned over to pick up the dazzling assemblage of emeralds and diamonds. Fenced, this thing must be worth a million bucks, he thought incredulously. A tantalizing thought bubbled through his brain. Maybe I should just help myself to her other little goodies. He entertained the thought for a moment as he caressed the bracelet. As usual, his Irish-Catholic guilt overwhelmed him and prevented him from committing a real no-no in the mortal-sin category. To his mind, stealing one bracelet from someone this rich should only count as venial.

Mrs. Watkins stirred and mumbled something about the Captain.