10
Maika
“Mmmmm, this is bliss.”
The Mediterranean night breeze caresses my skin with that treacherous peace only the sea can offer, steeped in salt and promises floating in the air.
I lean against the railing on the upper deck.
At this hour, the lights from the tallest bridge decks cast golden and blue hues that shimmer on the wooden floor.
The steady slap of the bow against the waves blends with the deep, muffled rumble of the engines, a constant vibration under my feet reminding me that we haven’t stopped moving.
And also that summer is just around the corner, even though the wind on the open sea still retains that delightful coolness.
I don’t know how much time passes before a silhouette cuts through the light at the far end of the deck. Even after an endless day, Helen looks beautiful, though the north wind has taken its small revenge by tangling a few rebellious strands of hair around her face.
I didn’t expect to run into her here, though a part of me—the most foolish part—hoped it would happen.
Helen, like me, seeks the residual peace that washes over the ship when the passengers finally retire to their cabins or gather in the casino.
We look at each other from a distance, and during those seconds when only the sea can be heard, my heart does a wild somersault in my chest.
“Would you like to spend some time with me?” The words slip out of my mouth before my common sense can hit the brakes.
I know it’s risky. I know it’s not ideal, but I couldn’t help myself.
Helen looks at me in silence. For a second that feels like an eternity, I think she’s going to turn around and go back to her cabin.
To my surprise, she doesn’t. She walks toward me without taking her eyes off mine, and when she reaches my side, the scent of her perfume instantly washes away the smell of salt.
It pulls me right back to what happened a few hours ago in the hallway around the stage.
“Enjoying a moment of peace?” she asks as she leans on the railing and stares out at the horizon.
“Just like you…” I reply.
Helen turns her face toward me, and I do the same.
We remain silent for a few moments, watching the moon’s reflection shimmer on the ship’s wake.
The steel giant moves with a gentle, almost imperceptible sway—a rhythmic, hypnotic rocking that brings us closer to Marseille and takes us farther away, mile by mile, from dry land.
“I loved the way everything went at the welcome party,” I say, turning slightly to get a better look at her.
“Really. Your team and mine clicked perfectly. The passengers had a blast, and best of all, no one ended up in the infirmary. Although those kids who tried to jump into the aft pool in the dark…”
Helen flashes a half-smile that lights up her face in a new way. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile like that since we found out we’d have to share this contract. And the tension in my chest begins to fade.
“God, don’t smile at me like that, or I’m going to forget where we are.”
“As unbelievable as it may seem, it turned out well,” she says, and her tone takes on a playful edge that catches me off guard.
“You haven’t been half bad either. In the end, it turns out we work better together than apart.
Although I have to admit I wasn’t sure about that.
I thought we’d spend the whole time arguing over every decision. ”
“You thought? I think you were ready to put me on trial at the first sign of trouble,” I say, letting out a little laugh and shaking my head. “Though I don’t blame you. Our relationship has never been easy.”
I don’t mention that meeting, or the real reason why everything ended up blowing up between us. I feel the weight of guilt rising in my stomach and rest my elbows on the railing, so close to hers that I can already feel the warmth of her body.
“I wish I could close the distance…”
“But it’s good to see we can work together,” I admit, giving her a knowing look. “The protocols are much more precise when we combine your rigidity with my creative chaos. It’s… comforting.”
Helen nods slowly, her gaze fixed on the dark depths of the water. The moon sharply outlines the line of her profile and the movement of her hair.
“Reassuring, indeed,” she repeats, and looks down at her hands. “To be honest, I thought you saw me as the strictest, most unbearable officer you’d ever encountered on a ship. But yes, we fit together. We make a good team.”
“That’s because tonight the sea is calm and there are no incidents,” I continue, letting my body lean toward hers. “The important thing will be to maintain this harmony when the wind blows in our faces and things veer off course.”
As I cross my arms over the railing, my fingers accidentally—or maybe not—brush the back of her hand.
Helen doesn’t pull away. On the contrary, she holds her breath.
Her gaze immediately drops to my lips, and for a second, I feel time stretch out.
I fight the almost irresistible urge to close the few centimeters that have separated us since the day I made the mistake of letting her go.
“I didn’t expect this to be so… easy,” I murmur sincerely, turning my eyes toward the dark immensity of the horizon. “I thought we’d keep our distance, acting like two strangers sharing a dining room. But being here, like this… it feels good. Really good.”
Helen turns completely toward me. Her eyes, a grayish green that the moonlight tints with liquid silver, pin me in place with an intensity that drains the air from my lungs.
“Neither did I,” she admits in a whisper that barely competes with the hum of the engines.
“I thought caution would win out. But here we are. And honestly… I’m glad I was wrong.
It’s not easy to find someone who keeps up with you in this little world, Maika.
And well… you breathe new life into things. ”
My fingers, guided by instinct, caress her wrist, right where the stripes on her sleeve end. I don’t know who takes the final step. But suddenly, our mouths meet with a savage urgency that clouds my vision.
The kiss isn’t tentative; it’s a collision of pent-up needs.
My lips part beneath hers with a stifled moan as her tongue seeks mine with an eagerness I didn’t know existed in the strict security officer.
She tastes sweet, with a hint of fruit, a flavor that makes me lose my mind.
My hands slide up the back of her neck, tangling in her hair, casting aside any trace of decorum to pull her closer to me.
She responds with equal ferocity, pressing her body against mine until my back slams against the deck railing.
The cold metal digs into my spine, but I don’t care.
I exist only for her hands; one firmly anchored around my waist, while the other slides down my side and up my back with agonizing slowness, memorizing every curve.
Our breaths mingle. I kiss her more deeply, devouring her, and she matches my rhythm.
The whole world, the crew, the passengers…
everything boils down to this. The moist heat of her mouth, the brush of her teeth against my lower lip, the perfect way our bodies fit together, as if the shipyard itself had designed us for this very moment.
My fingers trace down her neck, brushing the buttons of her shirt all the way to her collarbone.
Helen trembles. Or maybe it’s me who’s trembling from head to toe.
Our hips seek each other out with a desperate need that makes my pulse thunder in my ears.
Helen gasps against my lips and bites my lower lip with a painful tenderness that sends a shiver through me.
“Maika…” she whispers, pressed against my mouth.
I’m afraid she’ll come to her senses, so I hold her back with another kiss—this time slower—savoring every moment, tasting every corner of her mouth, memorizing its texture and the way her breath catches when my fingers slip beneath her clothes, touching the bare, burning skin of her back.
We’re both on fire. Desire pulses between my legs with a demanding intensity, reminding me of where we are and how forbidden this situation is.
We’re exposed, pressed completely against the deck railing, in plain view of any security camera or guard on patrol.
I feel her fingers gripping my hips, sliding down toward my thigh, and a blessed madness crosses my mind—I don’t care if we’re discovered, I don’t care about the contract, if she touches me right here, under the stars.
Then, the spell is broken.
The sound of a door opening on the lower deck echoes through the night.
Helen pulls away suddenly.
It’s a sudden, almost violent movement. She lets go of me as if I were burning and takes two steps back, pressing a hand to her chest as she tries to catch her breath. Her lips are swollen, flushed, and her green eyes scan the surroundings with genuine terror.
“Helen…” I take a step toward her, reaching out a hand.
“No.” She shakes her head and raises her hands to stop me. “I’m so sorry. This is crazy. I need… to think.”
She runs a trembling hand through her hair, desperately trying to smooth out her clothes and regain the composure that had vanished a second ago. She takes another step back, and then another, though her eyes keep screaming something else at me.
Before I can stop her, she turns away. She crosses the deck at a brisk pace and disappears down the passage leading to the crew quarters, leaving me alone with the sound of the sea.
I bring two fingers to my lips, brushing against the sensitivity and warmth Helen has left imprinted on them. Despite the emptiness of the deck, a slow, inevitable smile spreads across my face as the Mediterranean wind lashes my face once more.
Her taste lingers on my tongue. Her heat, seared into my skin beneath my clothes. And even though her officer’s mind has made her run away, I know perfectly well that the journey is very long. That this isn’t over. On the contrary. It’s just begun.
“And this time… I’m not running away.”