Claire woke especially early the following morning. She spent way too much time in the bathroom, trying to figure out something new to do with her hair. She didn’t dare leave it loose. The ship was moving again, and she knew what the wind would do to the heavy mass. It was very thick with a touch of natural wave. A good, stiff breeze was all it took to turn it into something akin to a living thing. Finally, she settled for braiding it and leaving the braid hanging down her back. It wasn’t much of a change, but she had no other ideas. It took her almost half an hour to decide what to wear. By the time she finally left her room she was in danger of being late, something she’d never been in her life. Once she reached the spot by the railing where she and Colin had met the day before, she had to force herself not to pace back and forth. It was absurd. She’d spent the entire day and half the night before listing the seemingly countless reasons why she shouldn’t get too attached to Colin Montgomery. It couldn’t go anywhere. She knew that. But all the mental expounding didn’t seem to do much good, because here she was feeling like a schoolgirl going on her first date. She gripped the railing as she ordered herself to settle down.
Twenty-five minutes later she was plenty settled down. She was, in fact, on the verge of tears and furious with herself for it. He wasn’t coming. She shouldn’t be surprised by it. She’d probably bored him to death the morning before. Or she’d scared him off with her almost uncontrollable neediness. She was pathetic, and she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten that way. What man would want to be with a woman who was so obviously self-conscious? She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She had to do something about it. She had to find a way to forget how much her mother and sister outshined her and focus instead on her own admirable attributes. So she was no beauty. Lots of women weren’t drop-dead gorgeous. She was smart, though, and strong. She could change her own flat tires and even the oil in her car. She could convince a classroom full of children to learn anything she taught them. She ought to at least be able to meet a man’s gaze without feeling like running away.
She opened her eyes and stared out at the horizon. Maybe the cruise had been a poor choice. It was far outside the realm of her typical world. But she was starting to realize that something was going to have to change. She’d spent too long catering to the fleeting whims of her mother and sister. She not only let them take her for granted, she allowed them to get away with making her a running joke between them. Diane, especially, enjoyed tormenting her. She allowed it because she kept telling herself they were her family, that she needed them and that deep down, they loved her in spite of their apathy towards her feelings. She was wrong, though. She’d told Colin that she stayed home because she had responsibilities. The truth was, she stayed home because it was familiar and the world wasn’t. She could blame her mother and sister all she wanted to, but the ultimate responsibility for her unhappiness lay with her. She’d been too afraid to chance venturing out into the world alone. She was a teacher because she loved it, but it wasn’t the only thing she enjoyed. Maybe it was time to start thinking about making a more drastic change than a simple vacation.
The very idea of it sent a chill of uneasiness through her. She deliberately shoved the fear away. She’d come on this cruise because she was desperate for a change, and even if it wasn’t turning out to be a dream vacation, at least it was a break in the monotonous routine of her life. It was forcing her to re-evaluate her life and the choices she’d made. So what would happen if she threw caution to the wind and made a real change in her life? She could move out of the state. Teachers were in demand all over the country. She knew she’d have no trouble finding another job. Her practical nature reminded her of the seniority she’d lose, but she resolutely ignored it. So she’d lose her seniority. So what? She could build it back up just as easily as she had before.
She started imagining what it might be like to start over. Someplace where no one knew her mother or sister, where no one would make the inevitable comparisons between them and her. It was a notion that was almost as frightening as it was exciting. She imagined telling her mother and sister that she was leaving, that they would have to start managing their own lives. Free. That’s what she would be. Free from the unwelcome responsibility of playing accountant and social secretary to them and free of the daily reminders of her shortcomings. She closed her eyes once more. It would be heaven.
Colin wasn’t sure what bothered him most. He’d told himself that the only smart thing to do would be to refrain from spending any more time alone with Claire Abernathy. Ignoring that wisdom could potentially jeopardize the job he was trying to do. But every minute that ticked by made him feel increasingly guilty for standing her up. She was so self-conscious already that he could only imagine what being stood up by a virtual stranger would do to her. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like a heartless bastard. Normally, setting aside his emotions and using people was second nature to him. It was part of the job. He had to be whoever the job needed him to be. If that meant being a raging son of a bitch, then that’s who he was. And he was damn good at it. Maybe that was part of his problem. He’d been living among the scum of the world for so long, always playing a role that made him blend in with them, that he was starting to have trouble remembering who he really was beneath all the filth. Somehow, Claire made him feel cleaner; less tainted by the years of being whatever kind of twisted bastard he needed to pretend to be. It was strangely seductive and insanely dangerous. The only smart choice would be to stay the hell away from her. Trouble was he didn’t want to.
Finally his conscience got the better of him, and he went looking for her. He didn’t really expect to find her waiting in the place they were supposed to meet. Any other woman would have been long gone. Yet there she stood, staring out at the horizon with that same unhappy expression he’d seen on her face so many times before. He shook his head. He was a fool.
“Claire.”
Her face turned slowly toward him. She would make a terrible agent. He could see the hurt in her eyes as plain as day. It made him feel even worse.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I…” What was he going to say? That he felt like she might screw up his chances of convincing Garret Palmer that he was a womanizing jackass? And how would he explain that to her? Sorry, I’m an undercover agent trying to catch Garret in the act of selling illegal arms to Central American guerillas, and I think you’re swell, but you’re a little too homely to blend in with my cover. Yeah, that would be perfect. He cleared his throat and lied with practiced skill. “I overslept.”
She stared at him silently. Her mouth didn’t even twitch. After their conversation yesterday, it should have at least brought a hint of a smile. She just stared at him for a few seconds, then turned to face him fully.
“You don’t need to apologize. I understand.”
“You understand what?”
He saw her flush, but she answered him. “I know I acted...pathetic yesterday. The truth is, I was more than a little overwhelmed when you asked me to have breakfast with you. Call me unsociable, but I don’t get out much, especially with a man like you.” Her blush deepened. “I know you were just being polite, and I appreciate it, truly. But I don’t expect you to make a date of it. I don’t expect anything from you.”
She gave him a half-hearted smile, and he wondered again how she could bring herself to put into words things most people wouldn’t even acknowledge to themselves. She’d called herself pathetic, but that wasn’t how he saw her. She was shy, yes, but hardly pathetic. He was starting to suspect she was far braver than he was. She cleared her throat and waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at dinner.”
It took a damned scary amount of self-control to keep himself from stopping her. Years of training and well-developed survival instincts wouldn’t let him speak up, even when he knew good and well that she was on the verge of tears. He’d hurt her, and he felt like a bastard. Then again, that’s exactly what he was. It’s what he had to be if he wanted to do th
e job he’d come there to do. So he watched her go, focusing on the way she kept her back straight and her head high. Damn, but she was an impressive woman. Any other female would be running from the embarrassment he knew she felt, but Claire Abernathy was not like any other woman he’d ever met. She was embarrassed and hurt and she still refused to let it break her down. He turned away, wishing he didn’t have to hurt her even more than he already had.
Claire refused to allow the tears that had gathered in her eyes to fall. She was not going to let herself cry over a relationship that hadn’t ever really existed. Colin might have been nicer to her than any other man she’d met in a long time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just like all those other men. So he was a little more charming and easily one of the most handsome men she’d ever met. He was still a man and she’d learned a long time ago that men did not fall for women like her. They might deign to be friendly, but they never let it go any further than that. Not unless they were looking for something other than sex, and what heterosexual man wasn’t strictly focused on that? He’d passed a little time with her and obviously had his fill of her company. No doubt she’d bored him to tears, and he was simply too charming to let her know.
She sighed as she closed the door to her room behind her. She should have known better than to get her hopes up. She should have never let herself even think about him. She walked into the bathroom and stared at her reflection. She was never going to catch the eye of a man like Colin Montgomery. She was too pale from never getting out in the sun for any real length of time. She was utterly inept at the sorts of social skills that most women acquired sometime during puberty. She didn’t have the foggiest notion of how to arouse a man’s interest by flirting. She’d never had any inherent skill when it came to makeup and hair and usually wound up looking like a reject from clown school whenever she tried to dabble with those female trappings. Everything about her screamed boring, inept old maid. And as if that wasn’t enough, she clearly had turned into something much too close to pathetic for comfort. She’d behaved like a love-struck teenager from the moment she’d met Colin. It was no wonder he didn’t want to spend any more time with her.
She turned away from the mirror. She was so tired of being the same dull woman she’d always been. She was sick to death of being practical and responsible. She was tired of being afraid. That thought brought her up short. What exactly was it that she was so afraid of? Being compared to Diane and her mother? They were always going to outshine her. She would never come close to being in their class. But surely that didn’t mean she had to spend the rest of her life walking in their shadows. So she wasn’t ever going to be beautiful. So what? Why couldn’t she be who she was without feeling so inferior?
She instinctively understood that she’d hit upon the crux of her problem. She never felt good enough. She turned to glare out the balcony doors. Maybe she wasn’t good enough back home, but this was a different place. She didn’t have her mother and sister standing over her shoulder to tell her all the things she wasn’t doing right. Yes, there were beautiful women on the ship, but they couldn’t care less what Claire did or didn’t do. None of them was going to harangue her about the out of date style of her swimsuit or the severity of her hairstyle. Not one person on this ship gave a damn who she was or even whether she lived or died.
For the first time since she’d set foot on board Claire realized the tremendous freedom she had. No one here had reason to be critical of her. She could do whatever she liked and though she knew it might be noticed, she also knew it wouldn’t matter. When the cruise was over in a couple of weeks she would never see anyone on board again. No matter what she did or how big a fool she made of herself, there was no chance of it following her back home. There, she always had to worry that every mistake she made would become additional fuel for her sister’s twisted humor or her mother’s scathing disapproval. Here, she didn’t have to worry about anything. She felt the frown ease from her face. For the first time in her life, she was truly free.
Ten minutes later she walked out of her room wearing the swimsuit she’d owned for more than a decade beneath an old tee shirt and the brand new pair of shorts she’d bought just for this trip but so far hadn’t found the nerve to wear because they showed off the unpleasant paleness of her legs. She carried a new bottle of sunscreen and one of the towels from her bathroom because she hadn’t thought to buy a beach towel. Maybe she would get a few stares from people when she showed up at the pool wearing the old swimsuit with her skin bearing testimony to her lack of exposure to the sun, but who cared what anyone thought? Let them stare. Let them even laugh. She was finished being intimidated by her own insecurities.
By the time Claire had reached the pool a good bit of her bravado had faded. It was all fine and well to damn her insecurities in the comfort of her room, but it was something else altogether to face up to them in the brilliant sunlight. She noticed her hands were shaking as she dropped her towel onto a vacant lounger. It was still early and there weren’t all that many people at the pool. That proved to be a blessing and a curse. Fewer people meant fewer witnesses to her discomfort, but it also meant there were fewer distractions to hold the attention of the handful of others lounging around the water. She caught more than one person giving her their attention. By the time she’d stretched out on the lounger, though, she realized they’d all gone back to whatever it was they’d been doing before she arrived. She breathed a deep sigh of relief and ordered herself to relax.
An hour later she was still trying to convince herself that she was having fun. She’d followed the example of the other women there and flipped from one side to the other while she attempted to read the book she’d brought along with her. It wasn’t doing much to hold her attention, however, especially since the sun was gaining in intensity with each passing minute. She’d slathered herself with tanning lotion, but she still felt like she was cooking. She turned onto her back once more and gave the water a longing look. She was bored with just lying in the sun. She never had understood how other women did it for hours on end.
She shifted her focus from the sun’s glare off the water to a pair of children who were playing with a water toy at the far end of the pool. Their mother was stretched out on a lounger nearby, her gaze never straying far from the children. The pang of longing that hit Claire was not unfamiliar, though it was unwelcome. She’d grown accustomed to the empty hole inside her. She had no illusions about what caused it. She’d become a teacher because she wanted to make a difference. She’d chosen elementary because she loved children. It never failed to awe her when she looked down into their trusting little faces and realized just how unconditional their love was. She’d felt the adoration of the children she taught. She’d had more than one child tell her they loved her through the years. But she knew what she shared with her students was nothing compared to the bond between a mother and her child. She wanted to feel that for herself. She wanted to hold a child in her arms and know that it was a part of her and would be forever. Most of all, she wanted to know that there was at least one person alive who would look at her with a complete and total lack of the judgmental attitude she’d lived with her entire life. Her child would never tell her she wasn’t good enough. It would never laugh at her lack of social grace or feminine wiles. It would simply love her exactly as she was.
Claire watched as the mother got up and joined her children when they begged her to come play with them. Their squeals of delight mingled with their mother’s laughter, and Claire watched until the tightness in her chest became too much to bear. She turned away, but could still hear them playing together. Finally, she shrugged into her shirt and shorts and gathered her things. She was running again and she knew it, but this time she didn’t bother to lecture herself about it. Hiding from her own fears was a bad habit she was determined to break. Distancing herself from the reminder of what she knew she wasn’t going to have any time soon was strictly self-preservation. She wanted children, but had no chance of having
any in the foreseeable future. There was no man in her life, no potential father. And though she knew very well that a man wasn’t necessary, she also knew she wanted the dream. She wanted to have children that were the product of love, not some lab procedure. She wanted a husband to share her joys and her sorrows. In short, she wanted a fairy tale, and she knew very well that the odds were all stacked against her. She couldn’t allow herself to give up her dream, though. Not even in the face of her loudly ticking biological clock. Foolish as it was, she was determined to keep hope alive.
Colin didn’t see Claire at lunch, not that he really expected to. He couldn’t quite manage to keep himself from watching for her, though. After the way she’d taken off that morning, he worried that she’d curl up in her room and hide. He kept berating himself for acting like such an ass. He should have just kept his mouth shut yesterday morning. Better yet, he should have gone in the opposite direction when he saw her in the first place. He’d known she was going to be trouble from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was exactly the kind of woman he never got anywhere near. Even if he hadn’t been working, she would have been off limits. He might not exactly be the Casanova wannabe he was portraying at the moment, but he wasn’t into long-term relationships either. He knew where those complications led, and he had no intention of ever walking down the aisle with anyone. He’d had nineteen years of experience with the nightmare of marriage, and that was more than enough to assure him that he didn’t want any part of it. His earliest memories included glimpses of his parents arguing. He watched them tear each other to shreds on virtually a daily basis and had decided about the time he hit puberty that if what his parents had was supposed to be love, then he was going to stay as far away from it as he could. He’d never experienced anything that had led him to reevaluate that decision.
He had friends who got married, and he couldn’t think of one of them that he envied. Most of them spent the first few months walking around looking like moonstruck fools, then they seemed to wake up one day, and the next thing you knew, they spent all their time bitching about their wives. He’d come to the conclusion that men weren’t designed to be lifetime partners with any one woman. Sooner or later the newness wore off, and things started getting ugly. Better to just get the hell out while everything was still casual and fun, than to stay too long and wind up dealing with a clinging female hearing wedding bells in her head.
Her First Vacation Page 4