“I think we need to talk,” he whispered against her lips.
“No,” she breathed. “Later.”
Ryan moved them both into an upright position. “You caught me off guard. I could have drowned you,” he grinned.
“You didn’t,” she countered. Jennifer wasn’t happy. All she could think of was the throbbing pleasure she had just experienced. She wanted him desperately. She wanted him now, even though she knew that it was not possible. Running her hands over his taunt abdomen, she enjoyed the feel of his smooth skin beneath her hand. If only she had used her head and lured him to her cabin. Now it was too late. He was back in control.
“I’m surprised you didn’t drown me,” Ryan teased. He turned off the jets and grabbed her wandering hand. “I think it’s time to go.”
Jennifer smiled a knowing smile and climbed out of the tub. Gathering her things, she decided to give Mr. Gorgeous a taste of his own medicine. “I’ll catch up with you later. Right now I need a nap. Alone.”
Ryan waved to Jennifer, then watched as she headed for the stairs. He wished that she had stayed to talk a while. It would have been fun to spend the afternoon with her. Climbing out of the tub, he located his towel and quickly dried off. With a sigh, he stretched out on the nearest chaise lounge and closed his eyes.
There was no denying it, he just had a wonderful time and he wanted more. What was it about Jennifer that he found so interesting, so compelling? With Jennifer, it was more than physical, though that was fantastic. He was attracted to her in a way he didn’t understand. As far as he could tell, other than the physical attraction, they had nothing in common. However, that didn’t stop him from having feelings for her. She was intelligent and had a fabulous sense of humor. No doubt if he continued to play with her, he could end up over his head. The smart thing to do would be to cool off permanently before he lost his heart. He yawned and turned on his side. The nap idea sounded really good and he wanted to try it.
* * *
Chef Commendatore Mario Ruscelli frowned at the recipe for papaya and green banana curry, then at Jennifer standing next to him, before reading it aloud. “One-half firm papaya, peeled and diced, four green bananas, skinless and cut into one inch slices; flesh of one-half coconut, coarsely grated; grated rind and juice of one-half orange; one small onion, thinly sliced; twelve fluid ounces coconut milk; one tablespoon curry paste; freshly ground white pepper; salt. Garnish with mandarin orange wedges and fresh mint.”
“It sounds like it could be a good recipe,” he admitted grudgingly. “But green bananas, il mio piccolo capo? They do not digest well.”
It was Jennifer’s turn to frown. His little chef? No. She didn’t think so, nor did she like being patronized. “There won’t be any problems. The bananas will be cooked well enough.”
“Well then, Chef Jennifer,” he began with a smile, “the ingredients are quite simple. There will be no hardship to obtain them. Perhaps we should prepare the curry at least once before serving it. Just to be sure, of course.”
Obviously, Chef Ruscelli, did not trust her recipe nor her ability to prepare the dish she was suggesting. Annoyed now that she had skipped her nap to come here at his request, she tried not to show her irritation. She looked around the huge galley with its white enamel counters and stainless steel refrigerators and stoves. It was sparkling clean, temperature controlled, and filled with delicious smells of freshly baked cakes and pastries. Breads and rolls were baking in large commercial ovens, workers were cleaning and preparing vegetables for salads and dinner accompaniments, and pastry chefs were adding finishing touches to tonight’s desserts. For Jennifer, it was a magical place, where she could make her culinary dreams come true.
“Chef Ruscelli, I really don’t think a trial run is necessary. I have prepared this recipe dozens of times. It is very easy to do,” she explained. “Once the banana slices are fried until they are lightly brown, they are set aside until the onion is sautéed. The onion, papaya, and banana are combined in the pan with the curry paste, orange rind and orange juice. After half the coconut milk is added, I only have to watch the mixture simmer for about ten minutes. Then I pour in the remaining coconut milk and salt and pepper to taste. After the curry is done, it only needs the garnish and to be served. What could be easier?” Jennifer waited for Chef Ruscelli to think of something else to object to.
Chef Ruscelli gave Jennifer a condescending look. “Well, we must first decide on a whole menu. The Captain and his guests must have choices, not only for the main course, but all the courses. Dessert as well.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Nor is it what I understood. I’m to plan a Caribbean dinner. No choices. It’s too much to expect me to be ready to prepare three or four different items for every course.”
“But of course it is, Chef Jennifer. My staff will be at your disposal. You will only need to tell them what to do and it will be done.”
“Preparing the meal is something that I want to do.”
“Wouldn’t it be so much nicer if you were seated at the table, watching the delighted faces of those enjoying your creation, rather than slaving back here in the galley while everyone else is having a good time?”
Jennifer laughed. “Ah, Chef Ruscelli, you do have a way with words. But the answer is no. I want to prepare this meal, not merely provide the recipes.”
Chef Ruscelli sighed deeply. “You are just as stubborn as I suspected. We will do as you wish. Shall we plan to have you here for Friday night’s dinner?”
Jennifer thought for a moment. It would give her time to explore a few of the islands and discover a few new recipes. Still, she would prefer a little more time before making a decision on the dinner. “The following Friday would be better for me. I want to incorporate some of the recipes that I develop on the trip into the meal.”
“Buon. I will advise the Captain once we are definite on the date. He will send invitations to your friends.” He folded her recipe and stuffed it in his pocket. “As soon as you plan the meal, you must notify me. I must have time to gather the ingredients you will be using.”
“Thank you. I promise to let you know.” Jennifer smiled.
Chef Commendatore Mario Ruscelli gave Jennifer a slight bow and watched while she left the galley. As he turned and walked away, he could be overheard muttering that he couldn’t help but imagine the Captain’s face when he bit into the papaya and green banana curry.
* * *
Sweat trickled down between her breasts, tickling her skin as the errant bead chartered its own course. Jennifer patted her soft cotton top close to absorb the moisture while wishing for a few rain showers to appear in the cloudless blue sky. Looking out over the smooth surface of the water, with no land in sight, Jennifer realized in awe, how vast the ocean was. Never before had she truly considered the courage and ingenuity of the men and women, who, centuries before, had braved the unknown to explore and find a new life. They had set sail in tiny wooden ships, living onboard for months at a time, often suffering disease and starvation. Now life was so different. She too was exploring, but in comfort and elegance, with abundant food, hot showers, and air conditioning whenever she wanted it.
A cool shower or a quick swim would feel good right about now. The sun beat down relentlessly and reflected off the water. It was hot. Too hot to be exercising, she thought as she finished walking her seventeenth lap around the jogging trail on the sports deck. Since it took eight laps to equal one mile, she felt she was ahead of the game. Actually, two miles was more than enough. If she really wanted to be tough, she’d swim in the current pool. There she could swim against the current until her arms gave out. At least she wouldn’t be sweating. But she had about five minutes before she was to meet Helga in the gym for aerobics, then a workout on the machines.
The sports deck was separated into two different deck areas. The mid deck was open to the three pools below and offered four hot tubs next to a sunbathing area and bar. The front of the sports deck was covered over. The
jogging trail around the perimeter of the front section of the deck was open to the elements, but the tennis court and the basketball court were screened and shaded. Behind the courts, the deck opened and stairs led to the Sun deck, the deck below, where the lap pool was located. The spa and gym were built around the lap pool area, with ceiling to floor windows, preserving a feeling of outdoors. Jennifer padded down the stairs, found her towel and bottled water she’d left in the area near the lap pool, and headed for the gym.
When she walked inside, she was startled by the quiet that greeted her. Except for the soft sounds of spinning, the rest of the equipment area was bathed in silence. She looked out the windows toward the pool area, but didn’t see anyone she knew. She turned to the windows on the ocean side of the gym and saw only an occasional jogger hustling by the windows. Did she have the time wrong? Jennifer checked her watch one more time knowing she had adjusted her watch one hour forward last night when the ship entered a new time zone. It looked correct to her. Just then she heard Sheila’s laugh coming from the spa area. Within seconds Helga, Sheila, and six other women entered the gym, laughing and talking as they came. Sheila waved to Jennifer and proceeded to introduce everyone. Helga handed everyone workout mats and signaled for them to get down to business.
While the women formed two lines facing Helga, Ryan and Mike sat, spinning on stationary bikes, and watched. Pleased with themselves that they had managed to come in unobserved, they settled back for the show.
“Coming early was a good idea. That babe really gets to me,” Mike breathed while spinning slowly.
“Sheila’s cute enough, but she’s not my type.” Ryan didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jennifer.
“Not Sheila. Helga,” Mike confided. “But for some reason, she doesn’t like me. I hate to say it, but whenever we get around each other, we’re like oil and vinegar. I just can’t seem to help baiting her. She’s so pretty.”
“She’s that alright.”
“I wonder how many men she’s been with.” Mike increased his speed. “Considering all the cruises she’s worked on, it could be in the hundreds.”
“Don’t let your imagination run away with you, Mike. I haven’t seen her mixing with the male passengers. In my opinion, she’s been rather aloof.” When Mike didn’t answer, Ryan dismissed any thoughts of Helga and concentrated on Jennifer who, with legs spread wide, was bending over to touch her toes. Damn. He could almost see past the hem of her cropped top when she leaned over. Why hadn’t he taken advantage of what she offered instead of avoiding her like he did last night?
Instead of joining Mike, Sheila, and Jennifer at dinner and then the discotheque, he’d made himself scarce, telling himself he was doing the right thing. The problem was, to Ryan’s way of thinking, Jennifer was somewhat inexperienced. She had to be. Her total lack of sophistication came through whenever he was with her. Before this attraction between them got out of hand, Jennifer needed to know that he wasn’t looking for forever. If he could get her to understand, they could have a great time together. He continued to watch her as she bent over and touched her toe, then straightened, then bent over to touch the other toe. Watching her graceful movements and those long bare legs certainly got his motor running.
Ryan nodded to two of his salesmen as they entered the gym to get ready for the class on the exercise equipment. He might just have to bow out if he couldn’t slow his racing libido. A smile teased at his lips when Jennifer sat down. The ladies were going to try sit-ups. This should be good. Seeing her lying on the floor in casual disarray, made him want to go over and make love to her. She would enjoy his lovemaking. He wouldn’t be like some of the younger men that had noticed her—they would overwhelm her and leave her unsatisfied. He, on the other hand, was a capable and exciting lover. If all she wanted was a shipboard romance, he would be happy to oblige. Maybe he should just go over and say hello . . .
Jennifer hadn’t said much, but she knew Ryan and Mike were watching their class warm-ups.
“You do look good in my short shorts,” Sheila teased, “and my cropped top is just perfect for exercising.”
Jennifer smiled, her mind on the sit-up she was trying to execute. “Thanks for the loan, but I think I’ll have to find something else. A pair of shorts that I can button would be great!” She uncurled and straightened her back. If she could just keep her feet flat on the floor, she would be happy. “It’s bad enough that part of my butt is showing, but when I raise my arms above my head, I come dangerously close to exposing my breasts. Those guys over there don’t miss a thing.”
Sheila laughed. “You look fine. Let them look. It makes them want you more.”
“Oh, Yeah? That’s fine for you to say, Sheila.” Jennifer caressed the small round curve of her tummy. “I’m tired of men just looking. I want some real action. Maybe I should have a talk with Mike. I’m beginning to doubt Ryan knows how to please a woman.”
“Uh, oh. You shouldn’t have said that, Jenn,” Sheila warned.
“What?” Jennifer looked at her in surprise. Oh, no. Had Ryan overheard them? Jennifer looked off to the exercise machines. No Ryan. Then she looked over to the side. There he was, standing not more than four to five feet away, looking blind-sighted. He’d heard enough to get the wrong idea. She could feel the blush cover her body as her eyes met his startled gaze.
Sheila was laughing so hard she couldn’t stop, but all Jennifer could feel was dismay. It wasn’t until the words of the woman behind her penetrated that she was able to tear her gaze away from Ryan.
“What a hunk!” the woman laughed. “No wonder Jennifer was trying to keep him under wraps.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes upward. She’d blown it this time. Ryan probably thought that she wanted Mike. He would never want to speak to her again. Jennifer felt Sheila’s hand on her shoulder, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at her—she was too busy taking deep breaths. Jennifer could tell Sheila was still laughing when she told her in a broken whisper that Ryan had just left the gym through the spa. “Go after him Jenn, before this whole thing gets out of hand.”
Jennifer moaned. “It already has.” She climbed to her feet and hurried to the spa, hoping she could catch him before he disappeared. The back entrance to the spa opened to the corridor leading past the massage rooms. Quickly, she ran through the corridor to the reception area, past the beauty salon, and onto the outside deck. No Ryan.
What in the world was she doing? That thought brought her up abruptly. The answer was embarrassing. She was chasing him, for whatever reason, and that was not what she should be doing. No. No. No. Wasn’t her new mantra, flirt, don’t chase? It was time for some regrouping. She was sure Helga wouldn’t mind if she skipped the exercise machines. Surely the woman had enough company that she wouldn’t feel intimidated by all those muscle-bound men.
Slowly she turned and headed back to the gym to gather her water bottle and towel before heading for her cabin. The hallway was cool and quiet. She could hear the trickling of water coming from the room where she’d enjoyed the mineral bath. She paused in the doorway and looked into the peaceful room wishing she could relax here for a while.
“Come in all the way,” a masculine voice coaxed.
There he was, immersed in the pool, looking up at her. “What are you doing here?” Jennifer felt her pulse begin to race.
“What does it look like?” he challenged with a smile designed to melt the coldest heart.
Cautiously she entered and closed the door behind her. “I want to talk to you for a moment.”
“Only a moment? Take some time to relax. Come in and enjoy the mineral bath with me.”
“I don’t think so,” she hedged. He was entirely too handsome, and much too masculine. “I remember what happened the last time I got into the water with you.” Oh, dear! Bringing that up was a mistake, she thought as he climbed out of the pool and stood before her dripping water, flashing her a wide smile.
Jennifer’s hungry eyes took
him in from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. His dark hair was pushed back, away from his beautifully chiseled face. His dark eyes sparkled mischievously, matching the knowing grin on those luscious lips. Jennifer’s body tingled with pleasure at the thought of what those lips could do to her. She stood entranced as he walked toward her. Rooted, Jennifer never even considered running away. His body, lean and solid, was poetry in motion, speaking to her very soul.
Stopping directly in front of her, Ryan reached up and gently grabbed the front hem of Jennifer’s top, lifting it until her breasts were exposed to his view.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Looking at you,” he answered in a deceptively calm voice. “Do you realize how beautiful you are?” At the shake of her head, he lowered his mouth and gently sucked her right nipple. When she cried out in surrender, Ryan pulled away and smiled. “Lift your arms,” his voice low and sultry commanded, before he stripped the top from her and pulled her close. “I have some doubts that I want to erase.” His mouth found Jennifer’s and he moaned in pleasure at the feel of her body against his. Cuddling her close, Ryan wondered what in the world he was doing trying to prove what a good lover he was. All his good intentions were disappearing before his eyes. But rational thought escaped him when Jennifer grasped his hips and rubbed her body hard against his.
Jennifer’s hungry kiss and writhing sexy body drove him to his knees, taking her with him. Suddenly he couldn’t get enough of her, her sweetness, her innocence, her taste. In an effort to pull her closer, Ryan managed to settle on his back and position her over him. Her hands pressed against him in greedy anxious caresses while she straddled him. If he didn’t take control quickly, it would be all over. But when her laughing eyes met his, he knew he was doomed.
Jennifer had other ideas.
CRUISE TO ROMANCE Page 6