Chapter 8 #2
"Mostly." He was trying not to look at her lips.
She had rid herself of the straw hat and her thick dark brown hair was tumbling around her face and down her back.
The sleeveless top she had on was made of cotton, the color reminding him of ripe plums. She was not wearing makeup, and her eyes were sparkling. "You're a writer."
She raised tapered brows at the change of subject. All around them people were rushing to and from the upper deck and sounds of laughter and conversation ebbed and flowed. They were isolated, giving them privacy to have their meal.
"I am, yes. You already know that."
"What prompted you to become one?"
Their meal arrived just then, and she waited until the server had left them alone before responding.
"I had a lot of imagination as a child. My dad--" She busied herself cutting into the soft as butter lobster and sniffing the aroma.
"He would tell me stories, made up ones.
" She looked over at him. "He wasn't very nice to my mother and brother, but he was to me and--" She shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable talking about him.
"Anyway, I found it fascinating that he could just make things up on a whim.
And that was when I decided that I wanted to write.
And I am a voracious reader. I started reading the classics when I was ten. "
"What's your favorite?"
"Dickens." She laughed at his expression.
"You are telling me that you started reading Dickens at that early age?"
"Yep. And I loved Shakespeare. I admire his style of writing and the tragedy in every story.
I couldn't get enough. I joined the library and would spend most of my time there.
" She did not add the fact that because of the unhappiness at home, it was her escape route.
"I started writing poems when I was twelve.
I would spend hours just looking for things to write about.
My teacher, Mrs. Inglewood -- she told me that I had talent and should not waste it.
" She bit into her potatoes and reached for her glass.
"What did it feel like to have your first novel published?"
She shook her head and laughed. "Before we come to that part of it, you must know that I got so many rejection letters that I almost gave up."
"That would be a shame."
She smiled at him and sent his blood pressure spiking.
"That's what I thought. Caleb encouraged me.
He was busy with his own life, but he found the time to reach out to me.
I got scholarships to go to college, but I had to cover living expenses and other amenities.
I had to eat, so I got a job as a waitress.
I was lousy at it, but the woman, her name is Pearl, cut me some slack and gave me a chance. "
"How long did you do that job?"
"Six months." She shook her head. "I was miserable.
Then I got a job in the college library and was in seventh heaven.
I got to do something I really enjoyed. I was so damn na?ve and starry eyed that I figured after finishing the course in creative writing, I would just go on to write the great American novel.
If I had known it would take years for me to get published, I would probably have taken a course in human resources. "
"Which would have been a mistake."
"Fortunately, I figured that out and stuck with it." She polished off the lobster and tackled the potatoes. "Now you."
"What about me?"
"You have a very clever way of directing the conversation away from yourself."
"You already know what I do."
"No, I don't. What exactly is your position at the company? I am assuming that you're in management?"
He laughed at the teasing look in her eyes and found that he was really enjoying her company.
"Something like that. I am what you'd call a trouble shooter. I'm good at spotting out a potential investment." She listened with interest as he elaborated on his role in the company. They lingered over the meal before going onto the upper deck where there was a party going on.
*****
They spent the rest of the first day on board, chatting with acquaintances. And then he took her into the lavish casino where she made him laugh when she won several hundred dollars at the slot machines.
He found her stifling a yawn as they went poolside and was having drinks with several others.
"Kinda." Tilting her head back, she gazed at the wide-open sky with the orb of silver moon.
The water lapping against the ship was strangely comforting.
It felt nice being here with him like this.
Ever since they had agreed to the arrangement, he had been nothing but kind and respectful to her.
She wanted to ask him about former relationships or if he was seeing anyone, but felt it was not her place.
She had noticed a blonde staring wistfully at him and also saw when she approached him.
The conversation had been brief, but intense and made her wonder what it was all about.
She was married to him, but not privy to his personal business.
"Want to head up to our cabin?"
"Why don't you stay here and I go on up?" she suggested.
His expression remained bland, even though the resentment and despair was churning inside him. She did not want him with her. He had seen the way she stared at the beds and could almost read her thoughts. They would be sleeping in separate beds but would be in the same cabin.
"Good idea. You remember where to go?"
"Of course." Finishing her drink, she rose, shivering as the breeze played over her skin. "I'll probably be asleep when you get there."
With a nod, he watched her make her way through the chairs, stopping to speak to one of the ladies.
Picking up his drink, he took a swallow, his mood taking a nosedive. He would stay away from the cabin and give her space. That was what she wanted. But he did not have to be damned pleased about it. Finishing his drink, he motioned for a refill, content to stay on deck for as long as possible.
*****
She did not go straight to bed but stepped out on the deck to stare at the vast ocean. The ship appeared to be barely moving, the gentle rocking motion, soothing. Moonlight shimmered on the deep blue water, turning it silver.
Her vivid writer's mind conjured up a scene where her male and female characters had a moment sitting on a deck like this one, enjoying each other, soaking up the atmosphere.
Everything she sees usually becomes a potential scene and this was no different.
The breeze brushed against her skin and had her shivering slightly.
But she stayed where she was. It was pleasant.
And she wondered if he had thought of her when he made the arrangements. She had been grateful and appreciative of the surprise trip. It felt strange that they were together like this, but not really together, she reminded herself.
They both wanted something -- both had a reason for doing this and she had to remember that. It did not matter how attentive he was. Or how she had enjoyed having a meal with him. Or the fact that he made her laugh. Nor did it matter how easy he was to talk to.
They could pretend all they want, but the fact remains that they were together for different reasons.
Taking in the clean air, she tilted her head back and enjoyed the silence.
Their cabins were bigger than most because he was part owner of the cruise line.
And she was going to enjoy every minute of the trip.
They could be friends. They were already getting along splendidly, so there was no reason they couldn't be friends.
With that in mind, she went back in to take a shower.
*****
He stayed away long enough to give her time to fall asleep and had ended up going back to the casino.
Unkeying the door, he stepped into the dark and waited for his eyes to adjust. The drapes were drawn over the glass doors leading to the deck, plunging the room into complete darkness.
Hissing out a breath, when his foot caught on a table, he inched in until he was standing next to the bed she had chosen.
She was fast asleep, with one hand flung to the side and her face buried in the pillows.
Easing himself on the edge of the bed, he sat there, staring at her face. Her hair was partially covering it. Lifting a hand, he pushed it back gently, careful not to wake her.
He smiled slightly as he took in the parted lips and the length of her lashes. His touch lingered. At the chapel, he had been required to kiss her and had been careful to make it a chaste one. But the feel of her lips, her breath mingling with his had sent fire straight to his loins.
That had been a constant problem for him ever since he proposed to her. At first, it had been just an attraction, but it had rapidly become so much more.
And he was going to have to find a way to keep things under wrap.
He could not allow her to see what she was doing to him.
He did not want to scare her away. But good Christ!
He wanted her so damn much. He wanted to slide into bed next to her-- to taste her skin and wallow in her sensuality. He wanted his hands and mouth on her.
"God!" he whispered achingly. How the hell was he going to sleep a few feet from her, feeling like he did? And how was he going to endure this hell for seven whole days? Rising, he stood there staring at her, before heading into the shower. It was going to have to be a cold one.