The sun beating down on her back and shoulders made the water feel even colder as it saturated her bathing suit to the waist. It made the fabric cling to her skin, and she stopped short, shivering for a second before she forced herself to step deeper into the pool, easing in slowly. It was typical of her personality, always that hesitation to immerse herself, but apparently, Jack had something else in mind. He unexpectedly emerged directly in front of her, popping out of the water to send a sudden wave over her, drenching her head-to-toe in saltwater.
She squealed in surprise and shock, eyes wide as she stared at him, spluttering indignantly before she retaliated. Suddenly, they were engaged in an epic water battle as they tried to swamp each other and all the other swimmers around them. The salt water stung her eyes, and she ended up squeezing them shut and splashing blindly in his general direction until she was out of breath from laughing.
Leaning against the wall, holding onto the ledge as she tried to catch her breath, she wiped at her eyes until she could open them enough to see his grinning face right in front of her. She suddenly realized she felt happy, if only for the moment. "That was an unfair attack," she said, a wide smile curving her lips.
"Maybe, but totally necessary. I could tell it was going to take you all afternoon to get into the water, the way you were going," he said, as he pushed at the hair plastered across his forehead. The blond was water-darkened to a light brown and long enough in front that the wet ends were curling down around his eyes, drawing her attention to them.
Dark, dark like unsweetened chocolate, but with small amber flecks that caught the light. She realized she was staring and laughed as she turned her head. "There's something to be said for going slow," she pointed out, still amused through her embarrassment. The pain that had been sitting in the pit of her stomach for days had loosened, and, for a change, her smile wasn't fake.
"Yeah, something to be said for jumping right in, too," he replied. He let go of the ledge, flopping on his back and floating there. "Sometimes, you have to take that leap."
"Uh-huh, but there's a difference between jumping in yourself and being pushed," she said with a snort. She turned, resting her elbows on the deck behind her, letting her feet kick out in lazy motions as she watched him float.
"True, but we all need a little push, sometimes. Don't you think?" His body was cushioned in the extra-buoyant salt water, which left more of him on the surface. She couldn't help but admire his lean, muscular form. His skin was the healthy tanned color of someone who'd been out in the sun a lot, and she was jealous. She tended to go from white to red and then maybe slightly tan, once she peeled, but never that nice bronze color.
She pushed off the wall without answering, sliding under the water and swimming under him to pop up on his other side. "Maybe. Is that what you're doing? Pushing?" she asked. She wasn't talking about the little water fight.
He grinned, eyebrows going up. "Maybe. That a problem?"
She hesitated and then shook her head. No, if it helped her pull out of the depression, she'd take the push, and she was actually having fun, which she'd never expected.
"Good." He had an odd expression on his face that she couldn't entirely decipher, but she did recognize the mischievous glint in his eye. "Race you to the end of the pool and back. Winner claims a forfeit!" he suggested.
"What kind of forfeit?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes playfully. She was a pretty good swimmer, but she had no idea if she could beat him.
"Hmm, winner chooses how we spend the evening?" he offered in a teasing tone. "Relax, any R-rated activities, of course, would not be part of the bet. I'm just talking about shipboard entertainment," he added when she looked skeptical.
She relaxed, though there was almost a slight feeling of disappointment. It certainly would have made it simpler to fall into bed with this gorgeous man if she'd had to do it, but she wasn't sure how she'd have felt about him if he'd gone that route. "All right, that's fair enough then. Hey!"
The second she'd agreed, he'd stroked off across the pool, his strong arms cutting through the water like some kind of Olympic swimmer, and she stared for a second in shock before getting her own body in motion. Even without the head start, it was unlikely she could have beaten him. He'd made it there and back before she'd even gotten halfway, and when she finally caught up, he was standing in the shallow end with his arms crossed over his chest, looking smug.
She stood as soon as she could set her feet on the bottom and glared. Her blue eyes narrowed in irritation. "That was cheating!" she snapped.
He laughed, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Just a trial run. Catch your breath, and we'll do it for real," he said, placating her. She had the sense he was testing her to see how she reacted in different situations, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.
Mollified, she relaxed and wiped the water off her face. "Ha ha. Very funny," she said, trying not to look amused, but the whole light-hearted tone was doing wonders for her mood despite herself. The sun, however, was not doing as well for her skin, and between it and the salt, it was starting to itch and prickle. "I need to put on some more sunblock before I burn," she said, sighing.
She made her way to the steps, turning halfway to look at him. "Could you help with my back again?" she asked, after a shy hesitation. Things had relaxed enough in the pool that now the shyness wasn't because he was a stranger, it was because she was hoping that he'd be a little less clinical this time.
She went to the chairs they'd staked out and dug through her bag for the bottle. She poured a large dollop into her hand before passing it to him, so she could cover her face and chest with the cream, but when he put his strong hands on her shoulders and began to massage the sunblock into her back, she practically melted into the floor.
Agile fingers worked it into her skin, probably taking more time than was strictly necessary but doing a thorough job of covering every inch of skin that was exposed by the cut of the bathing suit while she took care of her front. And while he might have taken his time with the job, he was careful not to put his hands anywhere they didn't belong. It was a pretty low bar to set for a guy's behavior, but she'd had dates with men who couldn't even manage that, so it pleased her that he didn't take liberties.
She lifted her heavy wet hair, piling it temporarily on top of her head so he could get the back of her neck, and he laughed. "I love the dusting of freckles across your neck and shoulders," he commented as he squeezed a quarter-sized drop of cream onto his hand and smeared it across the speckled skin.
"Oh, they're all over, but any place I burn tends to get a bunch. My grandmother used to call them angel kisses," she said, then immediately flushed. Why would she tell him such a stupid thing? she berated herself mentally.
"Angel kisses? Huh, that's a new one. Guess the angels really liked you then." There was a soft chuckle and then he was dropping down into a squat to get the back of her legs. He smoothed the sunblock down from thigh to ankle, and even though she could have done most of that herself, she wasn't really minding the touch of his hands as they glided over her skin.
She was, and always had been, a very sensual person. Touch was important to her, not necessarily just in a sexual way, but in all ways. The more anxious or sad she was, the more she wanted and needed to be touched. It was unfortunate that the breakup that had put her into a place of craving contact so much had also deprived her of that comfort. Her body rippled like a cat and her eyes shut blissfully as he finished.
Sighing, she let her arms drop from the top of her head, hair falling back with a wet slap across her skin. "Thank you," she said without specifics. Let him think it was just for helping her avoid sunburn; she knew it was more than that. She slipped the bottle into her tote and turned back to him with a wicked smile. "Ready to lose?" she demanded.
"Lose? Me? I never lose, pretty lady. Just watch," he said, smirking in return. A minute later, they were lined up at the base of the stairs and ready to go. A quick count of three, a
nd they were off, splashing across the pool in a frantic race to the far wall. She slapped her hand against it and did a somersault underneath so she could kick off hard towards the finish.
He did still beat her but only by an arm-length, and she was pretty sure he'd actually had to work for it because they were both panting as they stumbled into the shallows to collapse across the submerged bottom step. "Damn, I thought I had you," she muttered.
"I thought you did, too. If my legs were a little shorter, you probably would have won," he replied. The admiration was obvious in his voice.
"Swim team, high school," she admitted. She'd never been a real contender, but her coach had always said she was a steady, dependable swimmer, and he used her in relays often.
He whistled and shook his hair off his face. "Teach me to make a bet without knowing the odds of losing. Guess I'm just lucky," he said.
She laughed as she leaned back on her elbows and shot him a side-glance. "Guess so. So, what's on the agenda for tonight, then? Winner's choice, right?"
"That's right," he said with a slow, easy smile. "I was thinking maybe the Italian restaurant on Deck C and then hopping over to the Disco Inferno."
"The what?" Both eyebrows went up.
"It's a nightclub, seventies themed, so lots of disco music and terrible polyester outfits," he explained, chuckling at her expression. "It sounded like it might be interesting to check out anyway."
"I-I suppose. I don't really have any clothes that would work," she said uncertainly. Was there anything she could convert or a place to buy something appropriate?
"I wouldn't worry about it. I don't have anything, either. I expect most of the costumes are going to be worn by the people who work there. Who has the luggage space to bring a bunch of themed clothes on a cruise? There's already the Mardi-Gras night and the toga party," he pointed out.
That was true; she remembered the trip paperwork she'd been sent. There were notations about the costume nights and what she should bring. She'd decided to skip all of that once things had crashed around her, so she hadn't planned for it. She shrugged. "I'm willing to give it a try," she said, without a lot of enthusiasm. He had won the bet, and she didn't want to be a poor sport about it.
They lounged in the pool for another hour or so, soaking up the sunshine while avoiding the heat by staying in the water. They chatted about light subjects until their fingers wrinkled from the water and then they moved to the deck chairs to lie in the sun and bake themselves dry. There was less talking then, as they both dozed. It was relaxing and exactly what she needed, but eventually, she knew she was either going to have to apply more sunblock or go inside.
She sighed and sat up, stretching her arms over her head until her back cracked. "I can't believe how tired I am," she commented.
He lifted the arm that was bent casually over his eyes to block the sun and looked at her. "Probably rude to say so, Katherine, but you looked a little worn out earlier. Maybe like you hadn't been sleeping well lately."
He kindly didn't mention the dark shadows under her eyes, but she'd seen them herself, every time she looked in the mirror. "No, I don't think I've gotten more than a few hours a night all week," she agreed. Just thinking about it made her yawn, and she hastily covered her mouth to hide it. She'd spent too much time crying and not enough doing anything else.
"What if we met for dinner at seven? The nightlife onboard goes late; things will barely be getting started then, and it would give you a couple hours to nap," he suggested. Suggested, but it wasn't really optional because, as soon as he said it, he was swinging his legs off the chair and pulling her to her feet like she'd already agreed. "But, I—"
Whatever protest she was going to make, he wasn't listening to it as he interrupted her. Already shaking his head, he scooped up her tote and pushed it into her arms. "Nap time. You don't want to be too tired to enjoy the fun tonight, do you? I plan on keeping you out late," he said. His voice was soothing, and she found herself automatically following him into the ship. He pushed her into the elevator gently. "Go, sleep. I'll see you on Deck C at seven," he said firmly and then he watched as the doors closed between them.
She wanted to be annoyed that he'd been so high-handed with her, but, honestly, she couldn't argue the common sense of it, and she was simply used to obeying. So, she blew out an exasperated breath and slapped the button for her floor, allowing herself a little dramatic frustration now that he was out of sight. But, it was nice to be told what to do. He wasn't dominating her, exactly, but there was an undercurrent there that she could feel and it drew her like a magnet.
She wasn't in her suite for more than a minute before she was staggering over to the bed and flopping face down on the soft down comforter. The sea air, sun, and exercise had wiped her out so completely that she forgot to set the alarm before she fell asleep, seconds later.
Chapter 2
Katherine woke up suddenly, rolling over in a panic and staring blearily around the room in confusion. For a few seconds, she had no idea where she was or what had woken her, but then, her stateroom phone rang again, and she groaned. Who could possibly be calling her room? she wondered as she leaned over and snatched up the receiver.
"Hello?" she asked, sounding as confused as she felt.
"Katherine? It's Jack, did I wake you?" a decidedly masculine voice asked.
"Jack?" she mumbled. Who was Jack? Jack…oh! "Jack! Sorry, yeah, I was sleeping. It takes me a minute to wake up," she said. She leaned over and snapped on the bedside lamp, wincing away from the sudden burst of light as she looked over at the clock. Afternoon naps always left her feeling so groggy afterward.
"We were meeting for dinner? At seven?" he reminded her gently.
The clock currently read 7:30 in bold red numbers, and she frowned. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I forgot to set the alarm, and I overslept!" she said, on the verge of panic. What if he was pissed and said to forget it? She barely knew him, but she already knew she couldn't stand another loss right now.
"Hey, calm down, darlin'. No worries, we've got plenty of time, and you probably needed the extra sleep. I'll bump our reservations. You think you can be down here by eight?" he asked. He was using a soft tone, like one you'd use to soothe a wild animal, and it worked to calm her.
"Yes, absolutely," she blurted, running her hand through her salt-crusted hair. She could, just barely, manage that, if she showered fast enough.
"All right, no problem then. I'll see you soon, Katherine," he said. There was a click, and she set the phone down.
"Way to make a good first impression," she muttered to herself as she hurriedly stripped off her bathing suit and the loose cover-up she'd worn over it on the way back to the room. She'd been so tired she hadn't bothered to change before lying down.
She was in and out of the shower in ten minutes, which might have been a new record for her. She loved long, hot showers, but she also hated being late, and it had her moving frantically to get rid of the greasy sunscreen and the salt that had crystallized in her hair. She hadn't really packed much in the way of evening attire, being solo as she was, but she had slipped in one nice dress, just in case. It was probably a little wrinkled from the trip, but at least she'd hung it up when she'd unpacked.
She pulled the dress out of the closet and shook it so the pale blue top layer settled neatly over the satin lining in a gauzy cloud. Inspecting it, she decided it would be perfect for dinner and dancing, and the fabric didn't show wrinkles too much, luckily. She slipped it over her head and let it settle into place, hugging her hips in a flattering style. She did a little spin in front of the mirror to make sure everything was in order and gave the hemline a quick tug to straighten it.
Running down to her last few minutes and already knowing she would never make it to C Deck on time, she hurried to take care of her hair. As far out of the way as her cabin was, it would take a good ten minutes just to get there, but she couldn't show up to dinner looking like a drowned cat, so she did her best to blow dry her hair
into a semblance of order, before twisting it up into a knot at the back of her neck. It left no time for make-up, but she grabbed some lip gloss and mascara on her way out the door and applied it during the brief elevator ride.
She'd looked better, but overall, she decided she'd pass. It really was unfortunate that Jack kept seeing her at her worse. Still, if miserable and tipsy, whining about her former relationship hadn't pushed him away, then being forty minutes late with a shiny nose probably wouldn't, either. She tucked the makeup in her little clutch purse and stepped out onto Deck C.
Her eyes widened in surprise. If she hadn't known she was on a ship, she'd have thought she was at a mega-mall or something. The massive concourse was designed to look like an old city street, and restaurants and boutiques lined both sides of the faux-cobblestone path. There were even trees here and there, though she wasn't sure if they were living or not. She didn't know exactly where the Italian restaurant was, but that only gave her an excuse to take in the sights as she walked.
She'd been a little concerned she wouldn't be able to find it, but there was no need to worry about that. She saw Jack up ahead, waving to her from the entrance, and she quickened her steps to join him. "Sorry! My room is so far away, it took forever to get here," she explained, smiling sheepishly.
He chuckled. "Don't worry. It occurred to me it might take you a little longer to get ready, so I changed it to eight-thirty, but they said they could probably seat us sooner if you arrived," he said. He offered her his arm, an old-fashioned gesture that made her giggle as she wrapped her hand around it and let him lead her inside. True to their word, the hostess led them to a table immediately and got them settled in with menus.
"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked, glancing up at her over the menu.
"Yeah, I slept like the dead. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I got to my room and passed out." She laughed a little, flushing as she apologized again for being late. "I'm usually obsessed with being on time."
In Time for Love Page 4