Her Cruise Ship Surprise | ✔

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Did you want me to alert security?"

"No, that's okay. If I can't find her, I know where their desk is."

If the other security personal were like the last one he dealt with, he'd be better off on his own. He turned and walked towards the entrance. When he placed his hand on the door handle, the nurse spoke up again. "Try checking the Plaza. Our medics were sent there on a call."

He nodded his head, giving her a quick smile. "Thank you."

The unknown drove him crazy. Sometimes he wished he could predict the future so that he could see everything and be able to plan for it. Hopefully she wasn't the one who was hurt. He reached the elevators and the stairwell. Glancing between them both, he opted for the stairs since they were faster. The elevator aboard the boat was as slow as a snail.

Hoofing her up the stairs, he dashed towards the Plaza. There was a group of people standing in a circle near the sandwich deli. A tall broodish man was walking towards him, probably on his way to the cigar lounge, as one was hanging out his mouth.

"Hey, what's going on over there?" Logan asked.

The man stopped and looked back in the direction of the group. "They think a lady had a heart attack."

Logan's heart sunk into his stomach. "Did she have black hair?"

"I think so."

"Shit."

Leaving the man standing there, he ran towards the group, shoving his way through the growing crowd. His gaze settled on the person lying on the floor. The woman had black hair, speckled gray with age. His heart did a triple beat as relief flooded him.

Kneeling in the midst of the fray was Tamara. She tilted the ladies head and placed the face mask on to give her mouth to mouth at the other medic's command. A third man prepped the defibrillator kit.

"What's the ETA on the medivac?" Tamara asked, sweat beating on her forehead.

"20 minutes."

Logan watched in awe as his woman took command of the madness. This definitely explained why she didn't show up at the restaurant. And he honestly wouldn't have it any other way. It just solidified her character. He's never been prouder than he was in that moment.

He nudged the man next to him. "That's my wife."

Upon hearing his voice, Tamara glanced up and grimaced when she saw him. "Sorry," she mouthed before returning to the work at hand.

"It's okay," he said.

After a few minutes, it was beginning not to look good for the woman. Her face was pale and although they did a few rounds with the defibrillator, they'd been unable to get a heartbeat.

"I think we should call it," the medic next to her said in a low voice.

"No. Keep going," Tamara demanded. She'd been doing CPR since the woman fell off her chair and refused to give up. There would be hell to pay if these jerks didn't keep going. She knew that the longer the woman went without a heartbeat, the less chance she had of recovering.

One of the other medics put a hand on her shoulder. "It's been too long, hun."

Tamara shrugged his hand off her shoulder and returned to the task at hand. She was going to get her back. She had to. Shoving the other medics out of the way, she placed her hands on the woman's chest and began the chest compressions again.

"Please, breathe, damn it," she cried.

The woman's companion seemed frozen in place, still sitting in his chair as if in a trance. "Please," he echoed quietly.

"Let's get her on the stretcher," one medic said, attempting to pull Tamara away.

"Get your greasy hands off me," she snarled, returning her hands to the woman's chest. No one was going to get in her way. She had already given up too early once before, and all she could see was the other woman whose life she let slip through her fingers.

That wasn't going to happen again. The heaviness upon her heart drove her to keep going. She wasn't going to stop until the helicopter arrived or until she couldn't do anymore compressions. Slipping into the life-saving zone, she tuned everyone else out. All the voices around her told her give up, but she wasn't the giving up type.

Minutes felt like hours and her arms were beginning to turn into lead. And just when she thought she couldn't do another compression, she felt a heartbeat. Tears filled her eyes as she glanced up at the woman's companion. "I've got her back."

Physically drained, she flopped down on her butt and wiped the sweat from her face while the medics took over. They got the woman onto a stretcher and began the trek up to the helipad. But Tamara was too tired to accompany them. "I did it," she whispered. "I really did it."

Logan leaned down and slid an arm under her arms and knees, picking her up. He sat down with her on the closest chair "You did great, sweetheart," he said, kissing her temple.

She watched the team maneuver their way across the Plaza. The number one reason she became a police officer was to save lives and that meant going the distance, doing what no one else wanted to do. Sometimes that meant dealing with the unsavory. Sometimes that meant she would see more than she desired. But it was all worth it if she could save even one.

"Is it too late for our dinner?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

He brushed the hair from her face. "Are you sure you want to eat after that?"

"I'm famished. I didn't really eat lunch today."

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, kissing her on the neck. "You never cease to amaze me, woman!"

"All in a day's work," she said, her cheeks flushing.

"You aren't at work, honey."

Truthfully, even when a cop is off duty, they are on duty. They were trained to step in no matter what. That's why she almost always carried her badge with her. When she didn't, she felt kind of naked, like a part of her was missing. Like now, for example. She left it at home.

"It's hard to shut off work mode."

"I can relate to that."

Slipping off his lap, she took a seat in the closest chair and sighed. If it was hard for her to leave work behind, even for a vacation, how could she expect him to leave his behind to be with her? It was also unfair to ask him to move back to the place where he spent years in jail.

"I don't think I like the sound of that sigh."

"We need to talk."