Love, Unexpectedly

by Susan Fox

  I thought of what Maggie and Tim had said. “Parents want to protect their kids, and they want the best for them. I think Mom and Dad tried, but—Here’s a radical thought. Maybe our brilliant folks aren’t particularly skilled at parenting.”

  “That’s…kind of sad,” Merilee said. “For all of us. Them, too.”

  “But it makes sense. It’s a logical explanation,” Theresa said.

  “Thank you, madam professor,” I teased, but for once my teasing was affectionate rather than pointed.

  Merilee laughed, sounding more like her usual bubbly self. “Hey, guess what, Kat? The prof’s not so stodgy after all. Know what she told me?”

  “What?”

  “She and her new hottie, Damien, had sex on Waikiki Beach!”

  “Merilee!” Theresa protested, but only halfheartedly.

  “You did what?” I asked. No, that picture didn’t compute. I must have misheard, due to the lousy cell reception. “Did M just say you had sex on Waikiki Beach? Like, the actual beach?”

  “That’s right.” Theresa sounded smug. “Bet that shakes up your image of me.”

  “You know it.” My competitive side surged forth, and I wished I could tell them about some of my adventures with…Nav? Pritam? Dhiraj?

  I focused again on what my sisters had said. Sex on a public beach? Theresa? “Well…wow, Theresa. I feel like I don’t know you at all.” But she was a lot more interesting than I’d ever given her credit for. Going home was seeming more appealing by the moment.

  The public address system announced the second seating for dinner. “Hey, I have to go eat. Is there anything I can do for the wedding before I get to Vancouver?”

  “Just hold Friday afternoon clear,” Theresa said. “All the bridesmaids except Jenna are going dress shopping. We’ll buy one for her, too, and hope it fits. Then let’s the three of us see if we can find a dress for Mom.”

  “Okay, you got it.”

  I hung up, feeling much better about my family and the upcoming visit.

  Now, what was I going to do about dinner? Did I want to go play games with Dhiraj, or was it time to start distancing myself?

  Before the phone call, I might have chosen distance. But hell, if my stodgy older sister could have sex on Waikiki Beach with a celebrity, the least I could do was further explore my own sexy side. We still hadn’t tried out those Kama Sutra positions. Once we were back in Montreal, all I’d have was my friend, Nav, so I should take advantage of Dhiraj while I had him.

  I selected a lacy black bra and thong, and paired my denim mini with a black camisole-style top. I was just picking up my jacket when a knock sounded at my door.

  “May I request the pleasure of your company for dinner?” The accent was Dhiraj’s, and so was the look. As he leaned against the doorframe in a sleek outfit of black pants and a thin V-neck black sweater, he looked sexy and dangerous, like a panther.

  I wanted to be bold and sexy, not embarrassed by our photo shoot, so I tilted my head up, smiling. “I’d be delighted, Dhiraj.”

  He bent quickly and captured my lips in a kiss so skilled and potent it left me gasping for air. “I thought tonight we’d eat alone,” he said confidently.

  It wasn’t a question, but all the same, when I caught my breath, I said, “All right.”

  I was used to letting the men I dated make decisions, so it was second nature to slip into this pattern with Dhiraj. It was another way in which he differed from Nav. Nav had always let me play the social organizer role that I typically took with my friends. Dhiraj, on the other hand, was a take-charge man with his own agenda.

  Not that I was objecting. So far, the activities he’d initiated had been great, from sharing dinner with Maggie and Tim to playing the provocative board game to the erotic photo shoot.

  He slid a hand into his pocket and brought out a small bag. “A souvenir.”

  I loved presents. Noting the logo on the bag, I said, “From the gift shop this afternoon. You bought me something!” Inside was a little box, which I opened. “Oh, my gosh.” He’d chosen dangly earrings in silver and gold. “Hummingbirds. They’re wonderful.”

  I threw my arms around him. “Thank you so much.” Then I pulled away. “I’m going to put them on.”

  “You don’t have to wear them tonight.”

  “I want to.” I hurried to the vanity, removed my dangly bead earrings, and put in the hummingbirds. When I moved my head, they flitted around my neck as if they were flying, making me laugh with delight.

  Then I sobered. Over the years, I’d received many gifts from men, including from Nav. But this one was from Dhiraj. The earrings would be a reminder of this trip, and the things I’d shared with the man who was—but wasn’t—Nav.

  How ridiculous. I shook my head firmly. It wasn’t like I’d be able to forget anything that happened on this trip. I’d just remember this as a fun time with a man named Dhiraj, who’d gone his way after our journey ended. As we had both intended from the start.

  Right now, though, he was still here, looking decidedly sexy.

  I hugged him again, then went up on my toes for a long kiss that made my whole body hum with awareness and need. Against my belly, I felt him harden, and I was very aware that all I wore under my brief skirt was a thong.

  He pulled away. “If we’re going to eat, we’d better go now.” He held out his arm.

  I debated for a moment. Maybe we could try out one or two Kama Sutra positions? That growing erection was awfully enticing.

  But then we’d miss dinner. Besides, anticipation was a nice form of foreplay. So I slipped my hand through his arm. “Lead on.”

  As we strolled down the corridor, I said, “No camera tonight?”

  “I want to concentrate on you.”

  I was positive he’d downloaded this afternoon’s images to his computer, and wondered how they’d come out. Were they sexy, or did I look foolish? I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

  We walked through the sleeping cars to the dining car, where he told the mâitre d’, “We’ll be dining alone tonight.”

  “Very well, sir. Madam. Enjoy your evening.”

  When we were seated across from each other by a window, Dhiraj shot me a wicked look. “Oh, I fully intend to enjoy it. I’ve got the prettiest, most interesting woman on the train for company.” He glanced past me, toward the entrance to the dining car. “After Elizabeth, that is.”

  “Elizabeth?” Jealousy flared. Was he already looking for my replacement?

  “Unfortunately, she’s already taken.” He sprang to his feet with a dazzling smile and stepped toward the aisle.

  I turned with a frown, which changed to a grin as I saw him kiss the cheek of a white-haired lady. He introduced me to the woman and her husband, then said, “We’d invite you to join us, but I have my heart set on a romantic evening.”

  The elderly gent winked. “You’re not the only one, young man.” With a hand gently planted on his wife’s hip, he steered her down the aisle.

  “Such a sweet couple,” I whispered.

  “Too bad you didn’t come for breakfast this morning. We saved you a seat.” His eyes twinkled. “Elizabeth’s another of my models.”

  “What?” I raised my brows.

  “We were alone in the dome car when the sun rose this morning. I got some great shots of her in the dawn light.”

  “For the—” About to say “exhibit,” I stopped myself. This was Dhiraj, the amateur photographer.

  “Hmm?”

  “Nothing. Let’s look at the menu.”

  We both chose salad followed by chicken in Thai red curry sauce, then he asked me what wine I’d like. I chose a spicy BC gewürztraminer.

  A few minutes later we were raising our glasses in a toast. “To our first dinner alone together,” he said.

  As I touched my glass to his, I realized with some surprise that Nav and I had never done this. Gone out for a quiet dinner in a nice restaurant, just the two of us. We’d often eaten tourtière, pizza, or lasagn
a on my couch watching a movie, or gone to a bar or restaurant with a group of friends.

  Unexpectedly, I felt nervous. It was like a first serious date with a stranger. A wealthy, handsome, exciting stranger. How could I impress him?

  I did what I always did and focused on him. “So, you’ve lived in both London and New Delhi, Dhiraj?”

  He nodded. “They’re very different. Both very old, but with such different personalities. London is more dignified. Cleaner. Much, much more expensive. And less vibrant.”

  “Really? Tell me more.” I put my elbows on the table, clasped my hands, and rested my chin on them.

  He studied me, then reached over, gently tugged my hands apart, and took my left hand in his. “I’d rather talk about you. Tell me what you did this afternoon, after I saw you.”

  I shrugged. “Got a phone call from two of my sisters.”

  “How are the wedding plans coming along?”

  “You want to talk about wedding stuff? Seriously?”

  “Sure.”

  I started out hesitantly, but under his prompting found myself relating much of the conversation, along with the insights Theresa, Merilee, and I had reached about our family.

  It was an unusual and pleasant experience for me to talk so openly about myself and not fear being judged as boring.

  The messages I’d been learning since I started this trip were sinking in. As a child and teen, I’d formed a pattern of looking outside the family for validation, and I’d done it by being the social organizer or the girl who tried to hold the attention of a larger-than-life date. Not by truly sharing myself. If Mom and Dad hadn’t thought I measured up to Theresa, I’d feared no one would like me if I let them see who I really was.

  I’d even avoided letting myself know who I really was.

  As I talked to the attentive man across from me, I felt like I was only starting to get to know myself.

  We’d eaten our salads while I was talking, and now our waiter took the empty plates and presented our curry, which smelled spicy and tantalizing.

  After we’d taken a few bites, Dhiraj said, “That’s interesting what you said about your parents. I suppose it’s true, that parents can be bright, well educated, loving, and yet not be skilled or insightful about parenting.” He toyed with his fork. “Do you think each child has their own idea of what makes a good parent?”

  I reflected, savoring a mouthful of spicy curry. “Theresa wanted less pressure. Merilee wanted attention and support. I wanted acceptance. How about you?”

  “I wanted parents who’d accept me—support me—for who I was, rather than who they wanted me to be.”

  I nodded. “I agree.”

  A corner of his mouth lifted. “We, of course, will make brilliant parents.”

  “I’m sure it’s easier said than done.” I tilted my head. “You got along well with the children this morning.”

  “I like kids. They’re easy to relate to.”

  “Do you want children of your own?”

  “Of course.” He said it so naturally that it sounded sincere, like a Nav response rather than a Dhiraj one.

  For a moment, I had a vision of Nav with a couple of cute little cinnamon-skinned children, curly black heads bent together as they worked on a drawing. The picture gave me a soft, melty kind of feeling, like a Hallmark movie.

  But wait, Nav was the smorgasbord dating guy. Sometimes it was really hard to remember that much of what he said came from his Dhiraj character.

  I’d been sharing myself intimately, and he’d been playing the role of Dhiraj.

  A thought hit me. What would happen if I asked him to be Nav? If I said I wanted to have dinner with Nav rather than Dhiraj? To have this kind of deep conversation with Nav?

  And maybe, afterward, Kama Sutra sex…

  No! That was crazy. We had to hang on to Dhiraj, keep the boundaries in place, or we’d never be able to go back to being friends.

  Nav might be quite happy to be friends with occasional benefits while he continued to date his various other women, but that definitely wouldn’t work for me. If I was having trouble having a casual fling with Dhiraj, no way could I handle one with Nav.

  Glancing at him, I realized he’d asked me a question that I’d missed. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “Just asked if you wanted kids.”

  “Yes, definitely.” I’d always wanted kids, and in the past few years my biological clock had gone from ticking to sending out alarms. “Though at the rate I’m going, I’ll be an aunt before I’m a mother.”

  “Figure your little sister and her husband will be having children soon?”

  “If they have their way. They want to get started now.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds like you’ll be an auntie within the year.”

  I had never mentioned Merilee’s problems to Nav, in part because we so rarely spoke about our families. And in part, because thinking about them made me feel guilty. Now I found myself saying, “I hope so. Merilee was diagnosed with endometriosis this spring. It affects fertility. That’s part of the reason they decided to get married now.”

  He gave a low whistle. “That sounds rough.”

  “It is.” I bit my lip. If I told him the truth, would he think I was self-centered and awful?

  There was something about his warm brown eyes that made me want to confess. “It should have been diagnosed earlier. We should have realized. She always had bad periods, but Mom, Theresa, Jenna, and I were all ho-hum about it and said that’s just what women go through.” Thank God for Matt. “It was her fiancé who finally got her to tell her doctor and get tests done.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He gazed at me steadily across the table. “People can overlook things that are right in front of them day after day.”

  “We sure did.”

  “So, from now on, try opening your eyes a little wider.” There was a spark of something—challenge?—in his eyes.

  “I will.” This afternoon’s conversation with my sisters had already pointed me in that direction. “Anyhow, Merilee had surgery this spring and is feeling better. She’s a bit run down, plus she’s trying to make up a bunch of missed university assignments and exams because she doesn’t want to get a semester behind Matt.”

  “And they’re getting married in a week and a half? Busy times for her. And all of you.”

  “It’s crazy timing for the wedding, but Matt got a last-minute deal on a Mexican Riviera cruise, and they want to do it for their honeymoon.”

  “A cruise ship.” He winked. “Wonder if that’s as sexy as a train?”

  I grinned at him. “I hope so, for their sake.”

  We’d finished our dinners and he said, “Dessert?”

  “I’m too full.”

  “Why don’t we get coffee and a liqueur in the lounge?”

  I agreed. As I stood up, I thought how differently this dinner had turned out than I’d anticipated. When he’d said he wanted a romantic evening for two, I’d expected flirtation. Instead, I’d mostly talked about myself, and he’d listened attentively.

  In its own way, that was pretty romantic, too.

  Now, though, as he came up behind me, his hand slid down my back, concealed between our bodies, and lightly caressed my butt. Denim slid against my naked cheeks. “Want to burn off some calories?” he murmured, leaning down so his breath brushed my ear.

  My body heated. “So much for the lounge?” I wouldn’t complain if we went back to his room and played Kama Sutra.

  “You misjudge me. I meant, dancing in the lounge.”

  “Dancing?” Now there was an appealing thought. “Yes, let’s.” It would be a good lead-up to sex.

  As we walked toward the exit, I saw Sam Wilbanks, the screenwriter, in animated conversation with three other people. He lifted a hand and gave me an appreciative smile before his gaze slid past me to my companion.

  I smiled back.

  “He envies me,” Dhiraj murmured in my ear, “and so he should. I’
m glad you met me first.”

  “Me, too.” The other man was the kind of guy I went for—successful and attractive—and he seemed nice. Yet I doubted we’d have ended up setting off the shower alarm or discussing my sisters. I doubted I’d have this same mix of comfort and excitement with him.

  When we got to the lounge, it was busy. The sound system was playing an old disco tune, and a group of Australians who looked to be in their late twenties crowded the small space available for dancing.

  “Disco?” Dhiraj raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t what I expected.”

  “They tailor the music to their audience.” And clearly tonight the Aussies ruled.

  We claimed a small table and ordered coffee, plus a Grand Marnier for me and a cognac for him.

  He took my hand and held it lightly, easily, as if it belonged in his. “Kat, you asked me if I’d ever been in love. How about you?”

  Had I asked Dhiraj or Pritam? I couldn’t remember. “More times than I can count,” I said lightly. “Come on, let’s dance.” Talking about my love life was a downer.

  “Hey, wait a minute. I answered when you asked. How many times have you really been in love?”

  I huffed out a sigh. On average, there’d probably been one or two men each year for more than a decade. “Honestly, I try not to count.”

  The table was small, and across it his dark eyes peered into mine with a serious expression. “If there were that many, my guess is you weren’t in love.”

  “Maybe not always,” I admitted. “But a number felt like love. Like the man was the special one.” As I said those words, gazing into his eyes, my heart gave a lurch. If Dhiraj had really existed, I could well have been feeling that way about him, and fighting to stick to my new one-month rule so I didn’t fall head over heels.

  He played with my fingers. “Sounds more like you lusted after them. Sexually, and maybe in other ways, too.”

  “Other ways?”

  “Like, if they had celebrity status or something, and you wanted to be part of it.”

  “To be part of the glamour.” I thought briefly of Theresa and her new guy. Yes, it was exciting to be with a man like that. “I admit, that’s appealing. But that’s part of the package, right? You fall for a whole package. Looks, career, personality.”