His Hidden American Beauty

by Connie Cox

  “Yes,” she said again, wincing at the way her voice quivered, regretting that she was now anticipating the clamminess that would soon be rising up in her, the way it always did, wishing away a past that kept following her long after her assailant had been locked away.

  No, she would not be a prisoner to another man’s crime.

  Niko placed the gentlest of kisses along her nape. One long finger traced down her spine and his hand splayed across her bare back, supporting her as she leaned away enough to look into his face.

  Deliberately, she met his eyes. “Yes.”

  She sounded firm this time, sure of herself, bold and daring.

  * * *

  Intense desire swept through Niko, making his palms sweat and his heart race. Triumph!

  He’d felt her hesitate. Then he’d poured on the charm, following his gut instincts to know what she needed from him, and it had worked.

  Annalise. He would soon be running his hands over her, tasting her, feeling her respond—feeling himself respond.

  And that’s where the apprehension surfaced. Apprehension that this would mean more to her than...

  No. That this would mean more to him than he was prepared for it to mean.

  Logically, he knew he was being unreasonable. They had only met a handful of days ago under circumstances that were totally out of the norm for him. Circumstances that weren’t made for anything deep or serious.

  Hell, he wasn’t made for anything deep or serious, no matter what the circumstances.

  This was not a time for a game of cat and mouse with a mouse who didn’t understand he would be letting her loose as soon as he’d caught her.

  That he’d sensed her pulling away was solid proof that this shouldn’t be happening like this. Not without the full truth revealed between them.

  He was a fool for asking her to join him in his suite. He was a fool for continuing to hold her in his arms when he should be putting distance between them.

  Annalise did it for him. Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him away. “What? I wasn’t supposed to agree?”

  Niko looked up at the night sky that only seconds before had been comforting in its cocooning darkness.

  Now the vastness looked daunting, imposing and desolate.

  He looked into her eyes, wanting her to see what he didn’t know how to say. “I wasn’t supposed to ask.”

  She darted a quick glance at his ring finger, then back up to his face. “You’re not married, are you?”

  “No.” A raw, self-deprecating laugh worked its way through his chest. “No, I’m not the marrying kind.”

  “I don’t understand.” Tears welled, although Niko knew she was trying to hold them back. She was wounded, rejected, hurt. Her pain caused him misery.

  “You’re not the kind of woman to love and leave. You deserve someone who will stay.”

  Fire erased the tears in her eyes. “Who are you to say what kind of woman I am?”

  “I’m the man who desires you with a want greater than any need I’ve ever felt before. But I can’t take the guilt of feeling I might be coercing you into something you’d regret tomorrow morning.”

  “Coerce? As in force?” She gave him a wry smile. “Seduce maybe, but not coerce.”

  “Seduce then.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “I’m sorr—”

  She held a finger up to his lips, not touching him by scant millimeters. “No. Don’t say it.”

  He breathed in her lavender lotion, clenching his fists to keep from pulling her to him and kissing her until the shreds of his own good sense floated away on an ocean of pheromones.

  Not trusting himself to speak, he gave her a parting nod and turned away.

  But she caught his arm. Her hand on his sleeve held him still better than any pair of handcuffs ever made.

  “What would it take—?” She stopped. Licked her lips and swallowed, then continued. “What would it take to convince you that a shipboard romance would be enough for me?”

  “In the state I’m in right now? Not much.” His mouth quirked up as he said it. Humor instead of hurt. It was what he did.

  But then he pressed his lips together tightly and thought, respecting that she’d asked a serious question. “Come to me. No stars. No wine. No music. No romance.” Niko knew his conditions would drive her away. She was too practical, too guarded, too astute to fall for a guy like him. “Come to me and tell me you want me. Then I’ll know.”

  He turned his back on her and walked away.

  With each step he took away from her, Niko felt he was going in the wrong direction. If he’d known it would be this hard, he would have never set foot on this ship.

  Perspective, Christopoulos, he reminded himself. This trip was a slice of fantasy out of real time. Annalise would make a nice memory, maybe even a what-if memory. But she could never be his reality. He knew what was important to him and it couldn’t include a cruise-ship doctor he would never see again once he disembarked.

  What would it feel like when he walked away for good?

  Reality made his head ache.

  With a sigh Niko headed towards the neon-lit bar with music loud enough to drive throbbing thoughts from his mind.

  Through sheer willpower, he kept putting one foot in front of the other until he ended up in a bar so overly loud, so neon flashy and so anonymous he could finally drop the mask of firm decision he’d donned to keep her safe—to keep them both safe—from foolish passion.

  Instead, he dropped his head into his hands, not even looking up when he ordered a double Scotch, neat.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ANNALISE SWAM LAPS in the empty adults-only pool until Brandy, who was working the poolside bar, insisted she would grow a mermaid’s tail if she didn’t come out soon.

  Reluctantly, she admitted that going back and forth without getting anywhere was not making progress, only making her exhausted.

  How dared he? She scrubbed the excess water from her body then threw the towel into the poolside bin.

  How dared he see through her bravado to the insecurities lying underneath?

  Her legs quivered as she made her way back to her cabin. But her physical exhaustion did nothing to diminish her mental anguish or her sexual frustration.

  Her body burned for Niko. For that nebulous release she’d heard about, read about, but had never experienced.

  Finally, hours after she had pushed her alarm clock to the floor to hide the mocking numbers, she fell asleep.

  Some time during the night she’d had fevered dreams that had left her soaked in sweat. When had that happened? When she had felt like her body was on fire?

  She stripped off the oversized T-shirt and gym shorts she usually slept in, avoiding the mirror as she headed for the shower. But then she stopped herself as she realized her nudity, even in the privacy of her own cabin, made her feel uncomfortable.

  Annalise gave herself a stern mental shake. If she wasn’t comfortable with her own naked body, how could she be okay with Niko’s?

  Experimentally, shyly, she ran her hands down her curves.

  Unknowingly, he’d dared her to explore her own femininity, to explore her own sexuality, to explore him.

  And she would explore him, every nook and cranny.

  Annalise realized she was standing in front of the mirror, her hands propped on her hips. After too many years of glancing away, she took a good, long look.

  “Annalise Walcott, you are a fine-looking woman. A strong woman. A sexy woman—more than sexy enough for Niko Christopoulos. Now, prove it to yourself.”

  Her beeper startled her with a beep as it displayed the texted reminder, ‘Talent show practice in thirty minutes.’

  She had forgotten. Niko and she were to perform in tonight’s talent sh
ow.

  Annalise grinned. She knew exactly what song they would sing together.

  * * *

  Niko’s late night and the predicted rain splattering on his cabin window lulled him into sleeping late. He awoke with a start, panic over needing to check Sophie’s blood-sugar level sending his adrenal glands going into overdrive until he discovered that Phoebe had already taken care of the whole routine.

  He was definitely off balance.

  Headachy from his overindulgences at the neon bar, Niko looked over the lyrics he’d just been handed as he arrived at the theater two hours late to practice for the talent show.

  You ain’t no saint, I ain’t your angel.

  He knew the song. The melody was simple, the chords basic. Still, it had lots of room for drama. It was a good choice for a quick performance.

  Apparently, Annalise had already come and gone. He would practice with a recording and hope they hit their cues right tonight. Thankfully, this selection had a lot of wiggle room to improvise and recover from mistakes.

  After an hour and a half of getting comfortable with the finger progressions on his borrowed guitar and singing his part with a throat that needed a spoonful of honey to ease last night’s excesses, he decided to spend a quiet couple of hours in the ship’s library, reading and napping.

  Before he could reach the literary refuge, his twin nephews found him.

  Marcus gave him a speculative stare. “Uncle Niko, we were going to rent a couple of video games to play in the video-game room but the desk person said it wasn’t authorized. They said we had to have your permission. What’s the deal with that?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Or we could just ask Dad for his credit card.”

  That’s all Niko needed this morning, to have to deal with his sweepstakes deception being discovered.

  “Where’s your dad?”

  “He and Mom are hanging out in the adults-only pool area. Something about a hot tub and remembering their youth.” Marcus shuddered. “I don’t want to think about it.”

  “And everyone else?”

  “Yiayia has the little kids in the kiddie theater, watching a movie. I think Uncle Theo and Aunt Chloe were going back to bed after breakfast.” Marcus shrugged. “That’s all I know.”

  “Which game did you want to rent?”

  They told him and he promised to join them in the games room as soon as he had it arranged. Maybe blasting a few brain-sucking aliens and saving the planet was what he needed to clear his head.

  Distracting himself in the games room was a good plan. It might have even worked if Annalise hadn’t had the same idea.

  Who would have known Dr. Annalise Walcott had a yen to be a kickboxer?

  She barely gave him a nod as she kicked and punched, making the video version of herself teach a harsh lesson to the thugs and muggers of the unreal gamester underworld.

  He wished he could be so focused as alien after alien blasted his video avatar into smithereens. Instead, he couldn’t take his attention from Annalise, clad in a sports bra and bicycle shorts, virtually fighting her way through the underbelly of society.

  To his nephews’ exasperation, he wasn’t nearly as successful in demolishing the invading aliens as Annalise was in dispatching society’s scumbags. But the activity did make the time go quicker.

  By mid-afternoon he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. It was a good, if not quite valid excuse for his irritability. In the dining room he scarfed down a quick sandwich and a fruit plate then hurried off to costuming, hoping Annalise hadn’t picked something totally ludicrous for him to wear.

  * * *

  A large crowd had been driven into the theater by the rain that was continuing to fall throughout the late afternoon. They had already sat through a half dozen acts of dubious quality and were getting restless.

  In her white choir robe and feathery angel wings Annalise waited for her cue. Despite her nerves, she was ready to sing the opening bars.

  While she could never have stood in front of a room full of people to deliver a speech, this was different. She was singing someone else’s words, being someone else, being someone bold and brave and beautiful.

  Niko would be entering from the opposite side of the stage. She could hardly wait to see how he carried off the costume she’d arranged for him—or to see his reaction to hers.

  When she whipped off her angelic robe, she would be revealing a side of herself no one had ever seen. That made her extremely apprehensive. But she was no longer going to let fear stop her from going after the life she wanted.

  And that life was quite a bit different than the one she’d been living. This life, this cruise-ship venue, had nurtured her when she’d needed it most but now she had grown past that need.

  Doctors Without Borders. She’d been thinking about it for quite a while. She’d been delivering donated medicines and doing volunteer work for the poor of the islands whenever the ship dropped anchor ever since she’d started working for the cruise line, a practice she’d learned from her predecessor. The charity work had been the most rewarding part of her trips. After hearing the passion in Niko’s voice when he’d talked about it, she was ready to make it her full-time work.

  Since she would be leaving the ship at the end of this run, she would leave them with something to remember her by.

  As the captain’s personal stewards finished up their shaky barbershop quartet to politely enthusiastic applause, Annalise let out a sigh of relief. They wouldn’t be a hard act to follow.

  The curtain fell and the production manager gave her a nod along with a thumbs-up.

  She hurried out to take her place next to the Styrofoam column that temporarily hid Niko’s borrowed guitar. For some reason she’d never doubted he’d be up to the task of pulling off this act. He was the kind of man who inspired confidence.

  As the curtain rose, her confidence fell. All those people clapping, waiting, listening for her.

  With the floodlights in her eyes, she couldn’t make out details, but she saw a movement at the edge of the stage. Niko.

  She was not alone in this.

  He strode out, tight jeans, black T-shirt and black leather jacket. His tiger eyes gleamed as he ignored the crowd and gave her his full attention.

  He stood so close her wings brushed his midnight hair.

  “Ready?” He grabbed his microphone from the stand.

  She left hers in the stand, clasping her hands angelically instead. “Ready.”

  As the pianist played the intro lines, Annalise took a deep breath, held it, then belted out the notes right on key.

  You say someday the right man will come along,

  The man who will see my angel wings and hear my angel song.

  But I say to you, you’re wrong.

  Because that day has already come and gone.

  And it looks like you’re here to stay.

  He leaned in close, so close she see the sparks in his eyes as he glanced her way then focused on the audience.

  I may be here today, but I won’t stay.

  I’m the kind of man that plays then goes away.

  You deserve a man who will never stray.

  Niko grabbed the guitar and did a screaming instrumental of angry chords before cueing back to the lyrics.

  I’ve got a wandering soul

  And I’m not made to grow old

  In one place, even if that place is heaven.

  This was the moment Annalise had been planning for. As Niko performed the next guitar break, she unzipped the heavy, shapeless robe and wings and let them fall to the floor, stretching her arms wide to revel in the form and freedom of the tiny, shiny gold spandex dress.

  Vaguely, Annalise heard the roar of the onlookers, but nothing spoke as loudly
to her as the look in Niko’s eyes.

  If his tiger eyes were anything to go by, he was definitely feeling carnivorous.

  She struck a pose, leaning in close and daring to look straight into those mesmerizing eyes as a dangerous thrill energized her like a bolt of lightning.

  Plucking her microphone from the stand, she sang.

  You ain’t no saint. I ain’t your angel.

  I’m the woman who can match you, play for play.

  Day by day.

  She grinned, growling the words out.

  And night by night.

  Niko missed a beat as he swallowed. Then caught up with her.

  Night by night

  Day by day

  You’re the woman who can match me

  Play by play.

  And I’m the man that can match you, too.

  Because I love you.

  Together they sang,

  Because I love you.

  Annalise didn’t even realize the curtain had fallen until it started to open again. From the dazed look on Niko’s face he hadn’t realized it either.

  Amazingly, he looked away first, a bashful casting down of his eyes.

  “Good job,” she whispered as they took their bows.

  He nodded, still not looking at her. “And you.”

  She grabbed his hand and almost dropped it again as heat travelled up her arm and throughout her body. Remembering who she wanted to be, she clasped it tighter as they took another bow and then she led him offstage.

  Once alone backstage, he turned to her, searching her face. “Wow.”

  “Wow back at you.”

  And then the Christopoulos family interrupted, whooping and laughing and complimenting them.

  How could she resent the intrusion when it was all too easy to breathe in the love, the cherishing and solidarity they gave Niko and, by extension, her, too?