CHAPTER 1
ANGRY CLOUDS ROLLED
over the sparkling turquoise sea, transforming it into a lifeless slate grey.
Tucked in a small bay hidden from view, a black-market
military sea craft modified for great speed waited silently. Ten men with chalk
white skin and dressed in black sat tensed as the idle boat gently rose and
fell with the small swells, their glowing red eyes intent on their quarry.
Through his binoculars, their six-foot-three leader studied
a sleek cruise liner turning her mammoth bow to line up on the inter-island
passage off the coast of Indonesia.
He turned to his crew. They watched as a small smile played
across his handsome face, his red eyes shining bright.
He nodded. This was the right target. Once they boarded, the
rich bounty they would gain would renew their powers.
The leader said only one word, "Midnight."
CHAPTER 2
A WARM WIND FANNED MY
FACE. I watched the colorful flags wave in the breeze, as our sleek cruise ship,
The Jakarta, cut through the
Southeast Asian waters.
We had boarded the cruise in Bali. Yesterday, we stopped at Komodo
Island for diving, sightseeing, and ogling the famous Komodo dragons. Now we
were sailing due east through the Flores Sea. I was so looking forward to
seeing some of the thousands of large and small islands, each exotic and
mysterious, with strange creatures, amazing fish and birds, impenetrable rainforests,
and people who still lived in the stone age.
The ship was a small luxury liner that held ninety
passengers and a crew of thirty. And though the posh thirty-day cruise was a
beacon for singles looking to be pampered, the main billing was its stops to
scuba-dive off a few of the seventeen thousand islands of the Indonesian
Archipelago " our ultimate destination the Forgotten Islands in the Banda Sea.
They would even teach us how to scuba for free; I had always
wanted to learn. I tried it yesterday and was hooked.
I left the deck and went back to my cabin, which I shared
with my best friend, Remy. She had dresses and shoes all over her bunk. I plopped
down on mine and sighed.
"What're you going to wear tonight?" she asked as
she grabbed another dress and held it up to her, turning this way and that in
front of the mirror.
"I don't know. I don't feel very social today. Maybe
I'll just order something and eat here. And read."
"Which one?"
"Which one, what?" I asked.
"Dress … dress."
"Oh yeah, dress. I like the red one on you. Looks great
with your blonde hair."
"Done." She started hanging the other gowns. "Wasn't
that guy last night tasty?"
"Who? The one every girl's eyes were glued to?"
"No. No. Who can be interested in a guy who attracts
woman in packs? No, the one last night at dinner. With the green eyes and sweet
smile. Zack."
"Oh, yeah. Nice." Actually, the guy who attracted
every female on the ship had also attracted me. I had seen him by the pool with
his ever-present fan club. The guy had it all. A classic Greek face, black
curly hair, olive complexion " probably never visited by a zit. Fabulous build.
He seemed to be charming the knickers off every young woman aboard. Maybe that's what my bad mood's about, I
thought. Being attracted to the gorgeous guy
started me thinking about Tony again " and the phrase that runs over and over
in my head " "Jane, I'm sorry. But I've found someone else."
I hadn't been attracted to a man since my fiancé left me for
another girl a year ago. You get burned, and you stay away from the stove.
I sighed. I had to stop this. I jumped off my bed. "I
need to shake this off. How about a swim?"
"Sure."
AS WE APPROACHED THE
OUTDOOR swimming pool on the top deck, I saw dark clouds threatening a
storm. My hair was whipping in the wind. I shivered. Bad idea. But Remy was
undaunted. She immediately ran and did a cannonball. As I stood wondering if I
should just go back to the cabin, a waiter came up, a small, dark boy about
sixteen, probably a native of the area. He wore a short white jacket with epaulets
and black pants.
"Would you like a drink, mum?"
"How about a snow suit?" I laughed. "Just
kidding. No, I'm good for now." I surveyed the sunbathers and swimmers. There
he was. As usual, he was surrounded by women. He was dressed in a simple white
pullover sweater and tan slacks, but the cut and fabric screamed money. His
luxurious, curly black hair whipped in the wind, making him look very unkempt,
rugged, and nonchalant, as if fine grooming was so not important because he was
stunningly handsome no matter what he wore or did.
"Excuse me, sir?" I said.
The waiter turned.
"What's that guy's name? The one with the black curly
hair."
"Nickolas Angelopoulos." He stood for a moment. "Anything
else I can help you with?"
"Nope. Thank you," I said, not taking my eyes off
the amazing-looking man.
"You're gawking."
I shook myself and looked down. Remy was hanging on the side
of the pool. "Yeah, I guess I am."
Enough of that.
"I'm coming in." I walked over to the diving board
and performed a perfect dive. I had always been very athletic, and I knew my
body showed it.
I swam several laps, trying not to look at this guy named
Nickolas, and climbed out of the pool, dripping water, and squeezing it out of my
thick mane. I shivered a little in the cool wind, and as I finished drying, I saw
out of the corner of my eye that Nicholas was staring at me " well, at my chest
anyway. I looked down to see that my n*****s were perfectly erect through my black
bikini. I quickly draped my towel around my shoulders so it covered my breasts
and was suddenly looking for a quick way to exit.
"Remy, how about a bite of lunch? I'm so hungry all of
the sudden."
THE SETTING SUN
GLITTERED on the water as our ship gracefully rode the gentle swells. She was sleek and elegant, white with blue accents.
I was glad I had decided on a smaller cruise liner, not one of those floating
cities. The Jakarta was the height of
luxury with a large dining room called the Captain's Table that could seat the
entire passenger list. There was an adjoining bar, the swimming pool, a gym,
and a spa.
Remy and I entered the elegant dining room. We stood waiting
to be seated. Quite a few eyes looked our way as we stood at the entrance. The
passengers were dressed in gowns and tuxedos for the traditional weekly
"Dinner with the Captain." I had on my midnight blue, long sheath
with a scoop neck and, over it, a matching shrug jacket with long sleeves. I
thought the color went well with my auburn hair. Remy looked stunning in her
red gown, and her blonde hair pulled up. The glittering chandeliers and a
wooden parquet floor shined in sparkling splendor, fine enough to impress royalty.
The ship's musicians played soft dinner music as the diners chattered quietly to
each other.
The maître d' led us to a six-foot-diameter table. Six guests were seated,
all new to me … including the outrageously handsome Nickolas. To my irritation,
my stomach started to flutter.
We sat, and a waiter came up immediately and offered us
drinks. "I'll have a glass of dry white," I said, "and make sure
the chef knows I'm a vegetarian."
He nodded and looked at Remy. "A martini, with Grey
Goose, dry." She flashed him her amazing smile and looked around the
table. "Hi, everyone. I'm Remy, and this is my friend Jane. We're both
from Boston."
A young woman across the table pushed her glasses up on her
nose and said, "Hi, Remy. Hi, Jane. I'm Clarissa from California. Nice to
meet you." She wore a sleeveless, low-cut gown that accentuated her bony
arms and chest. Even though she was small, had mousey brown hair, no make-up, and
was kind of tomboyish, she was very pretty.
Across the table, with a deep male voice that was soft and
silky but commanded attention and probably always got what he wanted, Nickolas
said, "Hello, Remy and Jane, thanks for bringing your lovely selves to our
table and brightening our dinner. These beautiful ladies are Carol, Molly, Sonja,
and Linda. You've met Clarissa." As he spoke, his eyes locked on me in a
moment of supreme intimacy. He smiled a small crooked smile at me and said,
"I'm Nick."
The sudden heat that flooded my face and body shocked me. This
was not my usual behavior around a good-looking guy. My eyes broke from his. I
looked around the table. It seemed my brain suddenly disconnected from my
mouth. I was mortified to realize that my mouth was hanging open. I tried to
recover by mumbling some sort of, "Nice to meet you all," and glanced
at Remy. She was doing the same thing " cool as ice, rarely impressed or rattled
by anything " Remy. Whew. This guy was
something. I shook my head and reached for my water glass. There was an
awkward silence as two waiters served drinks and salads. I stretched my neck to
relieve the muscle tension and speared a piece of salad.
"What do you do, Clarissa?" I asked.
"I'm working on my PhD in Literature, UC Berkeley. I
thought it was a good time to take a break. Indonesia just sounded so, so (she
rolled her eyes for effect) exotic and romantic. You know. I mean this is just
fabulous so far. And I love the spots they chose for diving."
She's answering my
question but looking at that guy. The four other ladies can't take their eyes
off him, either. They're following his every move as if he was a lifeline.
"Absolutely. The spots they chose to dive sound
wonderful," he said, with a drop-dead smile at all the ladies.
I chuckled. I had the vision of groupies idolizing a rock
star. There was a strong urge to roll my eyes, but I resisted. For God's sake,
it was terrible to watch these ladies flaunting themselves at the man. But then
again, I wondered if it was difficult for him to be so damned good-looking and
have women act like that. I thought for a moment. No, probably not.
Nick
and the ladies had taken all my attention, and the thing was, there was another
young man at the table. He had been invisible. A little on the geekish side,
but " now that I got a better look " pretty cute. Glasses, nice blue eyes. Blond
hair. Then I realized that Nick hadn't bothered to introduce him, as if he
didn't exist. I was suddenly irritated.
"Wow.
Seems that no one has introduced you. What terrible manners!" My eyes
flicked to Nick. "What's your name?"
His
eyes met mine briefly. "Peter Sorenson."
He's shy, I thought. Here he is at a table with a lot of nice-looking
women and a man who seems to naturally demand attention, who has
self-confidence and charisma. Must be murder for a shy guy.
"Where
are you from, Peter?"
"Boston."
"Wow!
What a coincidence. What do you do?"
"I'm
a journalism major. Just graduated. Trying to get a photography job with National Geographic. A shot in a
million, but I keep trying." He looked down shyly, and as if it were an embarrassing
confession, he said softy, "I also want to write novels."
Nick
said, "Photography is a""
I
cut him off. "Wow, Peter. What kind of novels?"
He
pushed a piece of broccoli around. "International thrillers. Mysteries."
"I
love mysteries, too. I like anything where I can solve a puzzle."
He
nodded politely and then took a bite of salad.
"So,
have you written any?" I asked.
"Yeah,
two. I did try to get an agent. Got shot down by ten of them."
Remy
said, "Well, that means nothing. I'll bet Stephen King was shot down more
times than that." Her laugh sounded like little bells. I just loved Remy. She
was so funny and insouciant. Nothing seemed to ever bother her or take away her
sunny disposition.
"Tell
us about yourself, Jane," Peter said.
"Me,
well. I'm twenty-two. I just graduated from Boston University. This trip is a
present from my parents. I thought it would be great to see some exotic ports
of call, as they say, before deciding exactly how to apply my education. I
studied in the field of biological research and forensics, with a specialty in
toxicology. I was going to go into medicine. Be a doctor. But I got hooked on
biology and became interested in forensic chemistry. I guess crime-solving runs
in my family. My dad and my grandfather are both retired cops.
"My dad is Irish, and my mother is Russian. I'm a
workaholic. Terribly serious. And don't sleep much. I live behind my parents' house
in a little cottage. I'm always rescuing animals, much to my mother's distress.
I have two dogs, four cats, a parrot, and a three-legged squirrel. And of course,
to make this trip, I had to hire someone to take care of my menagerie. And,"
I smiled, "I hate broccoli." I made a face and pushed at the
vegetable on my plate. "Boom! There. Now you know everything about me."
I laughed.
Molly said, "I thought you told the waiter you're a
vegetarian."
"Sure, but that doesn't mean I have to love
broccoli."
Molly laughed. "You and me both. Hate it." She
looked like the sweet girl-next-door, with a large chest. She had on a light
green gown with small white polka dots. A little on the plump side. And very
pretty with a round face, pink cheeks, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose
and flawless skin.
She said, "I don't know how you can just eat vegetables,
though. How do you get enough protein? I mean tofu? Yuck."
Peter was staring at me. I smiled, and he gave a little
smile back. "Oh, that's not a problem, really. Plenty of plants have
protein." I get so tired of that
protein question. "Linda, why did you come on this cruise?"
She was a raven-haired stunner, probably the oldest at the
table " maybe twenty-six. She was wearing a to-die-for white, clinging gown. "Well,
I have a degree in marketing. I had been doing apprentice work at an ad agency.
I quit. Dead end. When I get back, I'm going to New York and look for the big
fish." She laughed. Her bright red lips glinted in the lights.
"Well, I love New
York," I said. But that made me think of Tony. We took trips to New York
as often as we could. We both loved it.
I had given the guests at
the table my socially acceptable reason for taking the cruise, acceptable to
total strangers, but the real reason for my trip was a strong suggestion by my family (in the form of giving me tickets
and insisting) in order to help me stop moping around about Tony, my fiancé "
ex-fiancé. It had been a year now, and I hadn't been able to shake the
depression. Such a shock. The words, "I'm sorry, Jane. I've found someone
else," kept ringing in my ears. Turns out some of my "friends"
knew he was seeing someone. And didn't tell me. I was really pissed at them,
too.
The
thing was, he seemed like my soulmate. We were so close. But now I was ready to
move on and determined to be a better judge of men. I had had a string of
boyfriends before Tony who turned out to be other than they seemed, either
disloyal or terribly flawed. Before Tony, there was Derek, my boyfriend when I was
a junior in college. I caught that loser making out with my best friend. How
could I not have seen? And then there was my boyfriend in high school " Mark. I
was prom queen, and he was prom king. The perfect couple admired by the whole
school. It turned out he lived a double life. He liked wild girls and dealt
drugs. He managed to hide all that from me and his other circle of friends. I
found out when one of his wild girlfriends wanted a little revenge because he
dumped her.
I
was a failure at judging men. The cheating fiancé was just the latest on the
chain.
I shook off my dismal thoughts. Carol was saying …
"Well, yeah. Like, I just graduated from high school? My parents are here with me, you know?"
She did a long eye-roll at the word parents.
"Anyway, they want me to go to college, you know?" All of her
statements were questions. She was probably eighteen, but seemed younger. Short,
brunette, big hazel eyes, and beautiful. She let out an exasperated sigh.
"But, like, what I really want to do is be a cosmetologist?" She was
saying all this to Nick, but turned to me. "Anyway, umm. What does a forensic toxicologist do?"
I smiled at her. She was so cute. "Well,
a forensic toxicologist determines the effects of substances like drugs,
poisons, and chemicals. The police and hospitals use it to determine the cause
of death. But big research firms use it, too."
"So
bottom line, you study dead people." Clarissa laughed and looked at Nick for
agreement. All of the ladies laughed and did the same … except Remy.
Nick
smiled. "Well, Jane, it sounds fascinating."
"What
do you do, Nick?" I asked.
"International
playboy. Spoiled rich brat. No kidding. I'm from Athens. My father has so much
money, he doesn't know what to do with it all. He wants me to be involved with
his business ventures, but says I need time to travel and see the world first. And
do I object? Nope."
Everyone
laughed again.
"Actually,
business doesn't really interest me. I would rather find something artistic to
do, like … like. Well, see … I love women's clothes."
Remy
said, "Cross-dresser?"
"Hah.
No. Not at all. I love females. I love to see women dressed well. Or undressed
is good, too." He smiled at me, and all the girls followed his gaze. I was
suddenly a little pissed because I actually blushed.
"Well,
a man after my own heart," Sonja said. She was a Norwegian beauty. Flaxen
hair and wore no make-up " no need with her naturally red lips and blushing
cheeks.
"Really,
I'm serious," he said. "I love the female form. And would like to
design wonderful things to drape on them." He laughed. "For instance,
Jane. That dress isn't right for you."
I looked down, as if I had forgotten what I was wearing.
"You
should wear soft silk or crêpe, especially light greens to match your lovely
green eyes. Clingy things. And red would be good. Bring out the red highlights
in your wonderful auburn hair."
I
could feel the heat in my cheeks. I haven't
done that since junior high school when Alvin kissed me good night for the
first time.
I
said, "Well, green to go with my one
green eye. I see."
He
leaned over and studied me, followed by everyone else. "Well, damn. You do have just one green eye. The other is
blue!"
"Yep,"
I said.
The other women looked a little unhappy with me being the
focus of Nick's attention. Molly, the sweet-faced girl; Sonja, the Norwegian
sex nymph; Clarissa, the pretty tomboy; Linda, the raven-haired sophisticate;
and Carol, the teenager. All, of course, glued to Nick's face. And I was
annoyed. Because I was doing the same thing.
But not Remy. No, she seemed to be the only female who was
unaffected and not under the hypnotic command of this Greek god. Little roaming
ceiling lights, like a tacky disco, caught her blonde hair with sparkles. She
was looking over at the musicians. She saw someone she knew at a table, a guy
actually. She gave him a little finger wave and a smile. He beamed back. She
looked so good tonight. Her bony shoulders were covered in that fantastic red
dress. I looked at her barely touched plate and thought " so bony because she never eats.
Then three gorgeous women came on stage, and the band came
alive with a song from ABBA, "The Dancing Queen," music with a nice
beat selected to please a group from sixteen to sixty. The song was vibrating
through my body as I watched the three singers. I had met them " Mia, Sasha,
and Madera. They were dressed in short, sequined tunics. Their legs were clad
in sheer matching tights and three-inch clog heels " three sets of shimmering
long legs dancing and swaying to the rhythm of the music on precarious stilts. Mia
wore a hot pink dress that matched her hot pink, spiky, pixy hair. Sasha, in
purple, had black hair in a bob, and Madera, in gold, had long white hair down
her back, which swayed to the deep base and thrumming guitars.
The wine was giving me a little buzz. The Indonesian waters,
the soft sparkling lights dancing on the ceiling, the lingering smells of
wonderful food, the rhythmic music, men looking handsome in tuxedos, and women
in lovely gowns, all made me feel I was floating in a romantic dream world. The
base made the floor vibrate.
Then the bomb dropped. Suddenly, Nick's bass voice was in my
ear. "Would you like to dance?"
I turned quickly, his face was inches from mine. A small
explosion went off in my head. In unison, unhappy faces stared at me. This
fabulous man was asking me to dance, choosing me out of all these amazing ladies.
I nodded and rose as if I were in a trance. He stood,
looking wonderful in his expensive tuxedo. When we reached the dance floor, he
took me into his arms, his hand firmly low on my waist with his fingers on the
hollow of my spine, sending waves of sensation through my body. His other hand
was warm and felt delightful in mine. I could smell his sweet breath. His
cologne smelled like fresh-cut wood, pine needles, and spice.
I didn't even think to resist as he gazed into my eyes. I
just gave myself to those dark pools with long, dark lashes and hooded eyelids.
Then I realized that I was dizzy, and I was not even breathing. I became aware
that I had a sort of shocked look on my face. I was making a fool out of
myself, just like the other girls. I put on a small smile and looked away,
trying to break the spell.
We swirled around the dance floor as if we were floating on
air.
I looked up again and smiled at him. We were saying nothing,
but I realized that it was a comfortable silence. He smiled back. His eyes were
smoldering. We were just feeling each other, the soaring music, and the pulsing
lights. In a world of our own. He pulled me close, and his lips brushed my
cheek. That sent another explosion into my head and spread like a firestorm
through me. He held me tighter. I could feel his lean, hard body close to mine
as we swung to the rhythm around the dance floor. I could feel the silky
material of his jacket with my hand, and the hard muscles of his back. We
swirled effortlessly. He did make me feel like a dancing queen. His queen. I
had never wanted any man as I wanted him at this moment. I had never felt like
this, and I wanted it to go on forever. I hoped the song would never end.
But it did end. He was gently steering me back to the table.
The next song started, and the beat vibrated the room.
The spot pulsed where his hand lay on my waist. He pulled out my chair,
and I sat, avoiding the jealous eyes.
I took a sip of my wine and
realized that I had had enough. I put it down and looked over the table. Peter
was looking at me with an odd look on his face. The floor still vibrated and
thrummed with the beat, and the lights on the ceiling swirled, along with my head.
I needed to get out of here. I was afraid to look at Nick.
The singers crooned. I felt swept
up with the song, dimly aware that Carol, the teen, was speaking in her
fast, hyper clip. I tried to focus.
"… Nineteen pirate attacks in these waters in just this
year. They hide ships, take the stuff, and hold the crew for ransom. But my
parents said the pirates take mostly tankers, you know, like cargo ships?
Mostly? I mean, oh, my gawd," she screamed. "Nineteen pirate attacks
just this last year. I mean it was all, you know, I was so terrified. I didn't
want to come on this cruise, but it was all like, you know, my parents said "
she lowered her voice. 'No, dear. They don't attack cruise ships.'"
I looked over at Nick. He was paying attention to Carol's
dialogue as if she was the only person in the room. Confusion started to seep
into my mind, like a slow-moving fog. Clear and bright one moment and then
being slowly consumed by a haze to hide the thought that the feelings between him
and me on the dance floor had all been an illusion. I peeked behind my mental
curtain and immediately closed it. Alarming thoughts were trying to surface,
but being swallowed up and drawn out of sight. I wouldn't pay attention to
those thoughts. I felt too good.
So my attention wandered away from the banter around the
table about pirates. The swinging sound from the stage had my foot tapping. And
my mind was in bed with Nick, the two of us in a hot world, rolling under the
sheets. I could feel his lips pressing and his hands creating heat and
fantastic sensations, my body exploding with desire. I was giving myself up to
him completely and letting his skilled lovemaking take me away to a place I had
always wanted to go.
I watched the singers as the song "Waterloo"
vibrated through my body. I watched their long legs " the purple, hot pink, and
gold dresses " Madera's long, straight, white-blonde hair swinging to and fro
with the music, and I realized that I would end up in
bed with him, if he asked. And from his response to me on the dance floor, our
shared exciting few moments, I knew he would. He made me feel like the center
of the universe.
Then I dreamily looked over at
him. His chair was empty. I looked around. He was now dancing with gorgeous
Sonja. Sonja, the sex siren! He was dancing with her, and she looked so
attractive … and mesmerized. Had I looked like that? He was gazing into her
eyes. Just as he did with me. He had made me feel so special, but there he was,
doing the same thing with her.
My heart fell through the floor. I
reached for my wine and knocked it over. It spilled across the table, seeping
into the white tablecloth, and spread around the crystal centerpiece that held
an arrangement of exotic flowers.
I tried to regain my composure,
but my stomach was aching. No, it was my heart. I never learn. They are never what they seem. And what makes you think
a rich guy will go for you? Hah!
My head was buzzing. I was dimly
aware of pretty Molly talking to Peter. But Peter was stealing glances at me.
Nick led Sonja back to the table.
I stood. "Well, glad to meet you all. It was fun."
"You're
leaving?" Carol asked. Almost too hopeful.
Remy
rose with me.
"Yeah,
thought I would take a walk on deck before turning in."
We
walked out of the dining room, which was on D deck, and stood at the rail
amidships looking down on the black water.
"Jane,
he's not worthy of you. You are so much better than he is. Sure, he's good
looking. He has the face, the body, the charm. That watch must have cost
$30,000."
"Remy,
how would you know stuff like that?"
"Internet
junky. Learn all sorts of interesting things. Just Googled expensive watches
for men. It's a Patek Philippe. I wanted a watch for Jack and got caught up in the
expensive ones, just for the heck of it. Can't afford them. Anyway, that was
before I found out Jack was a Jerk. With a capital J. He was fun though. Sexy
and fun. Oh, well. Life happens. Move on. No problemo."
I
didn't say anything.
"Jane,
this guy has to have rocks for brains to not see that you are the best-looking
girl on the ship! But he is too full of himself. Forget it."
"You're
so sweet, Remy. But you saw that Norwegian girl. Sonja. A kind of Scandinavian
sex symbol." I laughed.
"Yeah,
but tits aren't everything. You have tits, plus brains. And you have class.
Sonja's an airhead. Nick has to see that she's on the cruise just to troll for
a rich man." Remy laughed. "Even if he sees through that ho's plan,
have you ever known a man to turn down a one-night stand? You know, 'thanks a
lot for a fun evening. I'll call you next week.' Especially one as full of
himself as Nick?"
We stood in silence and
gazed at the tropical night. The moon was full and shimmered on the water.
Stars were out in a riot of light as the ship cut smoothly through the dark
Flores Sea. We chatted for about fifteen minutes about our next port of call "
Maumere Bay. It was supposed to be very beautiful, surrounded by volcanoes and
other mountains on Flores Island. This reminded me of an article I'd seen. I
told her that scientists had found skeletons on Flores Island of a hobbit-like
people who grew no larger than a three-year-old " a new species of human " tiny
people who had skulls the size of grapefruits and lived with pygmy elephants
and Komodo dragons eighteen thousand years ago.
Remy
yawned and looked at her watch. "Oh my god, it's 11:30 already. I have a
personal training session in the morning, 9:00 sharp. I'm going back to our
room for a few Zs. You coming?"
"No,
not sleepy yet. Be there in a while," I said.
"See
you later." Remy left.
I
looked down at the wake caused by the ship and listened to the sound of the
water coursing softly against the hull.
The Jakarta was described as "an
intimate luxury cruise ship catering to young adults and forty-somethings still
young at heart." With only ninety passengers, she was intimate. I looked
up at her three upper decks. The top deck had the swimming pool, bar, and
tanning area. The next deck down had luxury staterooms, massage salon,
mini-gym, and the bridge control room. My stateroom was on the third deck down,
along with a gift store and another bar. The main deck, where I was standing,
had the dining room, a game room, a hair salon, offices for the crew, and the four
lifeboats. The lowest deck held the engine room, crew lounge and berthing, and
storage. Below me, the heart of the ship, the engines, beat a steady rhythm.
I
played the evening over in my mind, trying to wrap my wits around what had
happened to me on that dance floor. Truth
was, I was trying to recover. My poor body was still buzzing, hormones having a
samba/mambo dance in reaction to him. We seemed to have really connected while
we danced. It was if we had known each other forever. I had never felt like
that with a man. It was magic for the
length of one song. And then the magic ended. Poof! I turned into a pumpkin,
and I lost the glass slipper.
I
laughed at the silly image and looked out over the ocean. So immense.
So
much space …
"Beautiful."
Suddenly,
Nick was at my side.
"Well,
what a surprise," I said.
"Why?"
"You
seemed to be having a good time in there. I mean with the regular harem of
women surrounding you as if you were a rock star. Are you a rock star and I
don't know it?"
"No,
not a rock star."
"Humm.
Well, all you rock stars out there, eat your hearts out. Nick's got it
happening."
"Thank
you. That's flattering. But to answer your first question, why am I here
instead of in there? Well, I was drawn here."
"Drawn?"
"To
you."
"Oh."
"Beautiful."
He
put his hand on my cheek. My heart thumped, sending sparks to my brain. Heat
spread through my body like a tidal rush as he gazed into my eyes.
"I
…"
"Do
you believe in instant attraction?" he asked.
"Well,
I …"
"I
want to kiss you."
I
moved away from the rail and walked to the door. Nick followed me and put his
arm on the door, barring my way. We stood in shadows, away from the light of
the moon, but I could see his eyes. Trying to gain some semblance of thinking
to counter the hormones, I quipped, "Humm. Do all Greek gods say things
like … I want to kiss you?" I smirked. "Nick, we just met."
"I
know, but you smell good. You and the moonlight have me intoxicated. I'm not
responsible for my actions." He smiled a crooked smile that nearly buckled
my knees.
"Whew!"
"I'm
a bit overwhelmed." He stood closer. "And I still want to kiss
you."
"Nick,
you have the eyes of every woman on this ship. How do you handle that?"
"I don't pay much attention to it. Don't get me wrong,
it's nice. But I'm afraid I'm just awfully selective. I can tell you're judging
me, but don't. All the charm with the ladies is just an act I put on. I can't
help it. I was raised that way. But really, I would rather just be myself. I'm
just a nice guy who can't find a nice girl because they all want me for my
money … instead of just me."
"So
I should be terribly flattered? Besides, what makes you think I'm not a dumb
redhead? We just met. And you don't know anything about me."
"A
forensic scientist? Yeah, right. I'll bet you also love music, art, and
literature."
"Well,
I do love opera and jazz. But I'm afraid I just read cheesy thrillers, now that
I'm out of college and not forced to read Faulkner or Dostoevsky." I
laughed.
"See?"
"See
what?"
Yes, I said to myself. I see. I can see, and I love gazing into his
wonderful dark eyes. And I'm dying to kiss those lips. And run my hands through
those black curls that frame his perfect face.
He
suddenly took me by the waist and pulled me to him. He gently laid his fingers
along my cheek and, with his thumb, raised my face to his. He softly pressed
his lips to mine and opened my lips with his tongue. His kiss caused electric
sparks throughout my body, warming places that hadn't been warm in a long time.
His hand moved down my neck, caressing the soft skin below my ear and then
traveled to my shoulder and then my side. It was obvious to me where this "hand
voyage" was headed.
I
was panting when I pushed him away. "Look, you're going just a little too
fast. No, way too fast. You're coming
on like Attila the Hun. This isn't my style. And it's midnight. I need to go to
sleep." I walked away toward the stern of the ship to use the stairs up to
C deck and my cabin.
Suddenly
I stopped. I could see a man dressed in black coming over the stern rail.
I
ran back, grabbed Nick by the arm, and ducked into the shadows.
"What?"
"Pirates!" I whispered.
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