“Natasha, this is supposed to be fun, right?”
“What if I want it to be more than fun? I want to know you, Thomas. You may think I randomly kiss strangers, but I don’t.”
“I should hope not.” He furrowed a brow. “At least, no more after me.”
“I suppose I’m trying to justify my attraction to you. I feel so close to you, but I still know nothing about you. Is it that you’re just not that interested? You can tell me if that’s the case. I’ll understand.”
“Maybe you should tell me what it is that you want.” He closed the small space between them and gazed into her eyes. “We started out fast, and now you’re asking for more than you might really want.”
“I know what I want.” She met his gaze without shying away. “Do you?”
The question rang through his head as his arms encircled her waist. He brushed his lips against hers, but she pulled back before he could engage them again the way that he longed to.
“No. Tell me.” She tilted her head back and stared into his eyes. “At least answer one question for me.”
He drew a slow breath between half-parted lips as he resisted his desire to kiss her. “Yes, I know what I want, Natasha.”
“Then tell me.” She continued to dodge the hungry brush and nudge of his lips against hers. “Is it just fun, or is it more?”
He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “It’s so much more.” He pinned her close against him as the urge to never let her go flooded him. “More than I expected.”
She brushed her hands along the slope of his shoulders and down across his shoulder blades. “Maybe we need to slow it down a little, then. So that we both have a chance to catch our breath.”
“That’s not even close to what I want.” He laughed a little as he brushed her lips with his again. “But maybe it’s what we both need.”
“Yes.” She breathed the word and when he nudged her lips again she drew him into a heavy kiss.
By the time they broke apart they both had to take a step back to ease the passion that flowed between them.
“Let’s explore.” He held his hand out to her.
She took it, but kept her body at a distance from his. As she met his eyes, he recognized the desire there—as strong and surprising as the want that seized him.
Would it even be possible to take things slow?
Chapter 11
Natasha led Thomas back down the trail toward the dock where the boat waited. Just before they reached it, she changed direction and entered the center of the tourist plaza from a narrow footpath.
“This is where the most authentic and cheapest products will be. The front is filled with imported junk and overpriced souvenirs.”
She grasped his hand and led him toward a small booth that was set up on the side of the road. Inside were vegetables, fruits, and assorted baked goods. She picked up a package of bread and sniffed. The scent filled her with fond memories.
“This must have been baked just this morning.”
“Here, let me.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet.
She brushed past him and handed the woman who ran the stand some money for the bread.
“Here, these.” The woman thrust a small basket of berries at her.
“Oh, no thanks, just the bread.”
“No, for free.” She pressed the berries into her hands.
“Why?”
She smiled and winked at her. “It’s good luck.”
Natasha looked down at the berries. They looked delicious. She glanced back up at the woman and smiled. “Then this too.” She picked up a silk scarf. “And this.” She plucked a seashell necklace from a stand and smiled at the thought of Emma wearing it. “Oh, and this too.” She picked up a paper fan.
The woman’s eyes grew wider with each item Natasha picked up. “Is this enough?” She offered the woman two twenty-dollar bills.
“Yes, that’s enough.” She plucked the bills from her hand as Natasha smiled.
“Natasha, I’m sure it’s not that much.” Thomas stepped closer to her. “That’s too much, isn’t it?” He looked at the woman.
She clutched the twenty-dollar bills tight in her hand and frowned.
“No, it’s just right.” Natasha reached out and pressed her hand over the woman’s fist. “Thank you—for the good luck.”
“You’re welcome.” The woman’s smile returned.
As she stepped back out of the stand, Thomas followed close behind her.
“You just paid triple what those things were worth. Why would you do that?”
The edge in his voice caused her to look over her shoulder at him with a lofted eyebrow.
“How do you know what they’re worth?”
“I can tell. A scarf, a paper fan, some shells on a string—how could that be worth forty dollars?” He shook his head. “I’ll go back in and get your money back.”
She gripped the curve of his elbow tight before he could step away. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“Natasha, I won’t stand by and let you get taken advantage of. Just let me go.”
“No.” She stared into his eyes as her irritation grew. “I gave her the amount of money I wanted to give her. She gave me the berries for free, hoping that I would buy one or two more things. I know that these items might not add up to forty dollars, but that forty dollars will be more than she makes this week. She was kind to me, I was kind to her. Please don’t interfere.”
“Oh.” He stared at her. “It was charity.”
“Not at all. I paid for my experience. She gifted me and I gifted her. You decided what forty dollars was worth, and what the items I purchased were worth. I decided differently. It’s not charity, it is a transaction.”
“No, that’s nonsense.” He shook his head. “You can call it what you will, but there’s no way those items will ever be worth forty dollars.”
She squared her shoulders and met his eyes. “This scarf is for a friend of mine who is battling cancer. She will likely not get to travel to this island. But I will carry it with me for the entire cruise. By the time I give it to her, it will smell like the sun, the waves, and whatever unique foods are served up on each island. She will get the experience of being here, even if her body doesn’t have the strength to travel.”
His expression softened at the thought. “I didn’t realize.”
“And this.” She held up the necklace of shells. “The light in my daughter’s eyes when she sees the treasure I brought home for her will be a memory that lasts my entire life. How can I ever put a price on that?”
His cheeks reddened. “I never thought of it that way.”
She smiled. “I fight my own battles, Thomas. I make my own choices. I don’t need you to decide what is best for me.”
“I see that.” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m not offended. As long as you truly understand. My thoughts, my desires, my decisions are mine.”
“I understand.” He gazed into her eyes.
She couldn’t quite read his reaction to her words, but at least he didn’t argue. She started to turn away toward the center of the shopping area.
“Wait, what about the fan? What is that for?”
“Do you really want to know?” She stepped closer to him.
“Yes.”
“This.” She spread the fan out so that it hid both their faces. Then she leaned in for a slow sultry kiss.
When she pulled away, his smile returned.
“That is certainly priceless.”
“Exactly.” She snapped the fan closed and turned back toward the next shops. She led him past a few, stopped in a few, then paused outside a small restaurant. It wasn’t lost on her that he hadn’t purchased a single thing. She wondered if she was boring him to the point of tears, as he didn’t seem very interested in any shop they’d stopped in.
“How about some lunch?” She smiled at him.
“Oh, we could just eat back on
the ship, right?”
“We could.” She laughed. “If we want to miss out on great food.”
“Oh well, ah…” He glanced over the restaurant, then shrugged. “Sure.”
“It’s my treat.”
“No.” He opened the door for her.
“Yes.” She smiled and stepped past him into the restaurant.
When his hand caught hers, her heart fluttered. He pulled her back enough that he could whisper in her ear.
“I’m paying. So this can be our first official date.”
“An official date, huh?” She leaned her head back and looked into his eyes. “I like the sound of that.”
Chapter 12
Every time Thomas thought he had a good sense of who Natasha was and what she was about, she showed him something entirely new. From the flirtatious behavior in the water, to the independence she’d demonstrated in the shop, to the way she calculated value—it all left him mystified. On the one hand, he admired her intensely, but on the other, he wondered if she was missing a sense of reality.
As they settled in at a table in the tiny restaurant, his mind buzzed with questions but he couldn’t get one out before the waitress walked over. Without hesitation, Natasha placed her order.
He skimmed the menu for the cheapest thing that he could find. He just wasn’t the garden salad type, though. He settled on a sandwich and then looked across the table at her. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, and a few strands of her dark hair curled at her temples from the humidity. If anything, she looked even more beautiful to him.
“So, what do you do for a living, Natasha?” It seemed a safe enough question.
“Now?” She looked back at him.
“Yes, currently.” He wondered why she would need to specify.
“I do mostly charity work.”
He swallowed down his sip of water hard. “No career?”
“Believe it or not, charity work can be a full-time career, if not more than that—organizing events, sponsoring causes—and one day when Emma is older, I’ll get the chance to travel again.”
“I’m sure it can be. I just meant that it must be difficult to maintain an income with all that.”
“I do okay. I don’t need to worry about money.”
He noticed the way she fiddled with the sugar packets beside her. So Natasha had some secrets of her own.
“From what?” He leaned a little closer to her. Even as the question left his mouth, he realized that he was probably being very rude, talking to her about money, but he was genuinely curious about the way she lived.
“You know what I find interesting?” She smiled at him.
“What’s that?”
“That you don’t seem to realize that you do charity work yourself.”
“I’m a paid teacher.”
“I realize that, but are you really paid for all the hours that you put in? All the energy that you expend?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Not even close.”
“See? You and I are not so different.”
“Maybe not.” He chuckled. He decided not to point out that she hadn’t told him where her income came from. It had been a very rude and invasive question, after all.
The waitress returned with their meals. She looked at Natasha with wide eyes and lingered by the table even after their plates were set down.
Natasha looked over at her. “Yes?”
The waitress giggled. She couldn’t have been more than twenty, or perhaps life on an island just caused her to appear more youthful.
“I don’t mean to bother you. Aren’t you Natalia?”
“Natalia?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.
Natasha grimaced. “Not now, okay?” She smiled at the young woman.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” Her chin trembled as if she might burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” Thomas looked between the two women. “You’re just confused. Her name is Natasha.”
“No, it’s okay.” Natasha drew a deep breath and met the woman’s eyes. “You’re right, I am Natalia.”
“Could I please have your autograph? My mother has your poster on her wall, and she would be so thrilled to have your autograph. She thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. It looks like she is right.”
Natasha’s cheeks grew dark red as she fumbled for a pen in her purse.
Thomas wondered what was going on.
“I’m sorry, who exactly is Natalia?” He turned his full attention toward the waitress.
“Never mind that, let’s just eat.” Natasha scribbled her signature on a piece of paper.
“Natalia.” The waitress laughed. “You’ve never heard of her? Do you live under a rock?”
“Sometimes I wonder.” He ignored Natasha’s attempts to get his attention. “So educate me. Who is Natalia?”
“That will be all.” Natasha’s voice sounded harsh to his ears for the first time.
He looked over at her and noticed the way she stared hard at the young waitress. Everything about her posture and expression exuded authority. It was as if she’d transformed in the few moments that he’d looked away from her.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Enjoy your food.” The waitress hurried away from the table.
Natasha picked up her fork and began to eat.
Thomas stared across the table at her. “Are you just going to pretend that didn’t just happen?”
“Clearly she was confused.” She took a big bite of her food and gestured that she couldn’t speak.
Thomas’s jaw clenched. He could sense a lie better than any other teacher at his school, and Natasha was not great at it to begin with.
“I think I’m the only one that’s confused here. What are you hiding from me?”
“I thought it didn’t need to be complicated?” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “It’s not as if you’ve told me every detail about your life.”
“Maybe not, but this is more than just a little detail. Isn’t it?”
“I thought this was our first official date. Why don’t we enjoy it?”
“I usually like to spend my first dates getting to know the person I’m with. Are you telling me that the waitress was lying? Or mistaken?” He looked into her eyes. “You have no idea who Natalia is?”
Natasha rolled her eyes and sunk down in her chair. All of the authority left her posture. She seemed more annoyed than anything.
“Fine. I’m Natalia.”
“Okay. So you have two names?”
“I have my name and a stage name.”
“Like a stripper?”
Natasha struggled to swallow a sip of her water around the gasp that his words inspired. “No, not like a stripper.”
He realized his mistake and winced. “I didn’t mean that you were a stripper. I just meant that strippers have a stage name and a real name.”
“And just how do you know so much about strippers, Thomas?” She locked her eyes to his.
His cheeks grew hot. His mind swirled. Then he remembered that this was about her, not him.
“Changing the subject won’t work. If we want to explore what’s between us, then we have to be honest with one another.”
“Funny how you’re ready to be honest when it’s me in the hot seat.”
“Fine, if you tell me why you have two names, I’ll tell you why my two wives left me. Fair?”
She smiled a little. “Fair.”
“So?” He leaned forward some. He had no idea what he expected her to tell him, but he was eager to hear whatever it was.
“In another lifetime, several years ago, I was a model—a fairly well known model, actually. And I went by the name Natalia.”
“A model?” He smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“No?”
“Why would it? You’re beautiful.”
Chapter 13
Natasha’s heartbeat quickened as she studied his expression. She’d gathered enou
gh about Thomas to suspect that he wouldn’t be impressed with her previous career as a model. If that was the case, he didn’t mention it in reaction to her confession.
“I’m sure it’s done a lot to support your charitable works.”
“It has—along with the money I inherited from my parents.”
“I’m sorry. Your parents have passed?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, it’s just me and Emma now.”
“My father is gone too. My mother lives with my sister in Chicago.”
“Do you get to see her much?”
“I try to make it there every few months. It can be difficult to get away, though.”
“It’s so important, don’t you think?” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “Sometimes when I think about how fast time goes by it’s overwhelming. It won’t be long until Emma is the one making time to visit me.”
“Tell me about your daughter.”
Natasha opened her eyes again and saw the warmth in his gaze. As a rule she tended not to share too much about Emma. Lucas was hyper-focused on privacy and security. But she didn’t think it could do much harm to boast about her just a little.
“She’s six. And quite an amazing six-year-old, if I do say so myself.” She laughed. “She’s just so full of life—eager about everything.”
“She sounds delightful.” He smiled. “I work with second graders, not much older than Emma. She’s very lucky to have you.”
“You think so?”
“Yes.” He picked up his water, took a sip, then set it back down.
“How do you know?”
“The kids I work with—they usually don’t have anyone to praise them, to value them. Just the fact that she has a mother who adores her the way you do—you’ve given her such a great start.”
“Thank you.” She smiled a little, though the thought of the children he mentioned saddened her. “I wish it was that way for every child.”
“Me too.” He looked down at his plate. “It’s hard to find that balance between being grateful for what I have and feeling guilty for having it.”
“Yes, it is. I find myself caught up in something superficial sometimes. My day just isn’t going my way and it feels like the end of the world or something. Then I remember some of the places I’ve visited, and I recognize how silly it is for me to feel that way.”
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