Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Delia
My first apartment in Manhattan was a quaint little studio with a lumpy mattress and a dead houseplant that the landlord warned me not to toss in the trash. I didn’t. Instead, I watered the damn thing almost every day and added the best plant food I could afford to the soil.
It did nothing. It was completely brown and crumbling when I moved out a year later, but it must have meant something to the landlord because he gave me back my entire security deposit even though I took a chance and painted one of the walls a horrid shade of green.
I did that because one of my professors at the time believed that green paint could electrify a person’s soul. I bought into it and went to the hardware store, gathered everything I needed to transform my tiny space and spent an entire Saturday afternoon following his advice.
As it turned out, that advice was nothing but a test. When class resumed on Monday morning, he asked for a show of hands for those who painted over the weekend.
My hand shot up, along with a few others.
The professor laughed and told us that we had bought into his advice because of his position as an educated superior.
That pissed me off enough that I challenged him in my next paper. He apparently saw that move as worthy of a high grade and I finished the course with nothing but accolades from him.
That was but one of the many adventures I’ve had throughout my long journey to learn as much as I can in my lifetime.
Drawing in a deep breath, I glance around my cabin. It’s smaller than that apartment I called home for twelve months, but I feel much less claustrophobic on this cruise ship. I suspect that’s because I can see the ocean through the small rectangular window on the wall next to the bed.
The entire cabin is decorated in a muted way with wood trim and white linens. The carpet that covers the floors extends into the corridors. It’s a clean and comfortable look that feels calming to me.
When Callum gave me my birthday gift, he apologized for not booking me a stateroom but they were all spoken for on this particular cruise. I know he chose these dates because he felt it worked best into my schedule. He was right.
A soft knock at the door sends my gaze in that direction before I glance at the vintage gold watch on my wrist.
It’s two minutes to seven.
I look toward the full-length mirror that is near the door. It’s a perfect spot for it. Each time I’ve been on the cusp of leaving the cabin, I check myself out.
Tonight I’m wearing a simple red dress, red heels and I’ve pinned my hair up into a messy bun. It screams sophisticated and stylish to me.
I swing the door open with a flourish and I’m not disappointed in the least.
Dressed in black pants, and a light blue button-down shirt, Donovan looks as gorgeous as ever.
I almost tell him that, but I stop the words before they leave my lips.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says with a growl. “How are you so fucking beautiful, Delia?”
The admiration woven into those words and the desperate note that’s present in his voice weakens my knees enough that I reach out a hand to him.
He takes it without an ounce of hesitation, bringing it silently to his mouth before he presses his lips against my wrist. His nose trails over my skin. “The fragrance you wear is perfect.”
“It’s from Matiz,” I blurt out the name of the company that makes the fragrance. “I like it a lot.”
He kisses my wrist again. “Me too.”
I catch him glancing past me toward the perfectly made bed. A mental image of the sheets twisted around us as he kisses a path down my stomach flashes through my mind.
“We should go,” I mumble. “You promised me wine.”
His hand tightens around mine. “That I did.”
Reluctantly, I tug free of his grasp to grab my red clutch purse. “I’m ready if you are.”
When I turn to face him again, he drops his gaze to the front of my dress before he trails it back up. “I’m ready for whatever the night brings.”
So am I.
“I don’t think your future is in magic,” Donovan says as I rejoin him at our table.
I can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? I thought I did great.”
“That’s the thing.” He stands in order to pull my chair back so I can sit. “You outshone Clever and he was supposed to be the star of the act. No one could take their eyes off of you.”
I drop back into the chair I left when Clever called me up on stage to be his assistant. “He made me disappear, Donovan. That was impressive.”
“It was terrifying.” He laughs. “I held my breath until you reappeared. If you hadn’t, I would have marched up on stage, walked into that box and searched for you myself.”
I can’t help but laugh, too, at the thought of that. “You wouldn’t have had to search far.”
He rests an elbow on the table to lean closer to me. “Are you going to reveal the magician’s secret?”
I could.
Clever whispered in my ear that as soon as he closed the door on the tall rectangular box I had stepped in, I had to duck out of a panel on the back wall, and then sneak back in when he told the crowd that I’d reappear.
I pulled it off seamlessly as a chorus of oohs and ahhs filled this theater.
Even though a bite of pain tore through my scraped toe, I was determined to make the trick appear real.
It was nowhere near the type of illusion that is common on the Las Vegas strip, but it was enough to satisfy the small group of passengers who wandered in to watch some of the cruise staff show off their hidden talents.
“I might be persuaded to do that,” I tease. “It depends on what the pay off would be.”
His eyes widen. “I’d make it worth your while, Delia. That I can promise you.”
He gives me a taste of that when he reaches for my hand to give it a soft kiss.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I glance to where Clever is chatting up two women who seem stuck on his every word. “I think my work here is done.”
“That means it’s time to dance,” he says, surprising me. “Unless you need to rest your toe.”
The last time I danced with a man was at Roman’s wedding. When he married his wife, Bianca, I hit the dance floor with him as we reminisced about how our lives had changed since we were kids.
“I’d love to dance with you,” I tell him as I gaze into his eyes.
Keeping my hand in his, he moves to stand. “Come with me. I promise you a dance you’ll never forget.”