by Dee Lloyd
With a flash of irritation, she remembered her father's face when he had pointed out, as if it were a grave character flaw, that she had recently passed her thirtieth birthday.
Stephen was just the kind of son her father should have had. Will Tolberg had been a state senator from New York until a coronary had forced his retirement. Almost from the moment Sara had begun dating Stephen, the two men had hit it off. Her father admired everything about him - his brilliance as an electronics engineer, his proven business success, his charm, and his public spirit that he demonstrated by running city-wide food drives.
The two of them were always in a huddle about Stephen's imminent debut into state politics. That kind of activity was much more to Will Tolberg's taste than trying to make himself useful in the travel agency his partner had run capably ever since Will went into politics. As Stephen's only family consisted of a sister who lived in Barbados, the two men thought that marrying into the Tolberg family would be perfect for his image. It was too bad he couldn't marry the senator, she thought peevishly.
When she forced herself to think about it, she doubted there was a man alive whom she'd actually want to spend the rest of her life with. But how else was she going to have the children she was pretty sure she wanted? Perhaps she should settle for Stephen. She sighed. When she returned in two weeks, she would give him her answer. Alone on the ms Theseus, she would have time to examine her reluctance to marry him.
"Think about me while you're away, Sara. I miss you already," Stephen had whispered into her hair just before the thief had taken off with her briefcase chased by the muscular giant with the dark tan.
Stephen, probably embarrassed he hadn't been the one to spring into action, had fussed about which valuables she had lost until she had described to him every item in the case and convinced him that she could afford to lose any one of them. Then he'd finally left, insisting that she call him if she had any more trouble.
Even though he could be tedious, she had come to count on him. She smiled. He had a lot going for him. She made herself think about his intelligent gray eyes, his well-groomed, thick blond hair, and his lean, elegant body. And she was still learning things about him that could surprise her. It had been unexpectedly thoughtful of him to send the birthday present to his nephew. According to Stephen, teddy bears were virtually impossible to get in Barbados and every boy should have his own Winnie the Pooh. Yes. She was glad he was fond of children.
"I will think about us, Stephen," she had promised. And she would. But not this minute.
CHAPTER TWO
As she descended the metal steps to the tarmac of the Tampa airport, the moisture-laden hot air enveloped her in a welcoming embrace. She could feel the weight of everyday responsibilities slipping away. True, she had chosen this particular cruise to see if it could be a mid-priced option in her father's Mayan promotion, but all that entailed was keeping her eyes open. Except for a couple of hours of business she'd promised to do for him in Cancun, she could relax in the sun for the whole two weeks. She could barely contain the happy laughter that was threatening to burst out. She contented herself with smiling broadly as she looked about her.
She liked the general feeling she got from the mixed crowd of passengers straggling towards the buses that would take them to the ship. Quite a number were younger than she'd expected. Sara remembered the cruise she and the senator had taken after her mother's death. It had definitely catered to a senior crowd. On the Theseus, she might even find a congenial female companion to team up with for sightseeing.
At the docks, in line to show her papers one last time before boarding the ship, she had the odd sensation that someone was watching her. She tried to ignore it but the tingling on the back of her neck persisted until she finally gave in and turned around. No one behind her in the line looked at all familiar. However, sweeping her gaze around the flag-draped customs shed, again she met the compelling gaze of the tall, dark man.
She wished she'd had her wits about her earlier on the plane. She hadn't even asked his name. The supercharged message he flashed this time was a friendly one. She returned it cautiously and was relieved that he didn't take it as a signal to come across the shed to speak to her. She watched him stride up the gangplank. His well-muscled arms were like mahogany against his white sports shirt and the wind-ruffled tips of his unbound hair were sun bleached. Sara wondered what he had been doing to get tanned so deeply. And why such an attractive man was alone. But none of that, she hastened to caution herself, was any of her business.
With cheerful efficiency, the cruise staff greeted her, checked her name off the passenger list, then gave her into the care of Carlos, her cabin steward. The genial little black man took her hand luggage, led her speedily to her cabin, pointed out its amenities and left. For the first time in the long day, she was completely alone.
The tiny air-conditioned room was perfect. The top bunk had been folded back and fastened against the wall and the remaining single bed was covered with a navy blue and white spread that matched the draperies. Its small window looked out over the bow of the ship. Her father had been right; this cabin was a real bargain. Though much smaller, it had the same view as the luxury staterooms alongside it. Admittedly, at the moment, that view consisted of the stern of another cruise ship, but soon she would have the unbroken vista of the open sea.
She debated taking a quick tour to acquaint herself with the public areas of the upper decks but when the first of her bags arrived, she decided to do her exploring after dinner. Instead, she unpacked, showered and slipped on a simple mint-green cotton dress. The printed blue card on the vanity indicated that she been assigned a place at Dining Room Table Ten for the second dinner seating. She was eager to see who chance and the maitre d' had chosen to be her dinner companions for the next two weeks.
When she arrived in the dining room promptly at eight-thirty, one of the waiters lined up beside the maitre d' led her to table number ten. She was the first to arrive at the large, round table for eight; however, before she had time to do more than get a general impression of a huge, softly lit, mirrored room with linen-covered tables, fresh tropical flowers and gleaming silver and crystal, the table began to fill up.
First to join her was an overwhelmingly genial English couple in their fifties. The man's round face was flushed and his laugh loud and hearty; his wife's narrow-featured face was set in a fiercely cheerful grin. Then came two obviously excited couples about her own age who appeared to be traveling together. The women did most of the talking but they all laughed easily together.
The last vacant chair tantalized her. She had her fingers crossed that it would be filled by an intelligent woman who was interested in doing some quiet sight-seeing; but somehow, she wasn't at all surprised when the large tanned man slipped into it. Sara smiled a resigned greeting.
"Sorry to be late," he apologized to the table at large. "There was a bit of a mixup with the luggage. My name's Mike."
He was looking at Sara across the table but the self-introductions continued around. Following established cruising practice, they gave only their first names. The middle-aged couple were Wilf and Bea. The other four consisted of Hazel and Mary, who were sisters, and their husbands, Joe and Martin.
In the inevitable pause after the introductions, Mike again sought Sara's attention. "This seems to be our day for luggage problems, doesn't it, Sara?"
Sara smiled back at him, remembering Mike racing full tilt through the crowded terminal after the luggage thief.
"Mine was solved quickly, thanks to you," she said. "I was startled when you yelled and started to chase that elegant little man through the airport. Then I realized he was carrying my briefcase."
"I surprised myself when I took off after him," Mike said with a laugh.
"So, you saved the day, did you?" the older man who had given his name as Wilf boomed. "Good for you!"
"According to the security officer, they'd had a rash of thefts of hand luggage." Mike was still speaking to
Sara. "He said this thief was older, though, than the ones described by the other victims."
"Have you two known each other long?" Wilf's wife asked.
"We'd never met. That made it all the more surprising. You should have seen it," Sara said, dramatically setting the stage with her hands. "The airport is packed. The lineup to go through security is over here. I'm saying goodbye to a friend over there. Then Mike, a total stranger, shouts, 'Drop it!' or something and takes off like an express train after a dignified-looking little man who has just stolen my carry-on. I am left standing there like a wimpy heroine in a melodrama, wringing my hands and crying out like an idiot, 'Stop him! Stop him!'
"People are craning their necks and bumping into each other to see what's happening and my friend is babbling, 'What did you lose, Sara? What did you lose?'
"I've never felt so foolish. I was afraid someone was going to get trampled or that my unknown champion was going to be injured trying to retrieve a sketch pad, a paperback novel, and a change of underwear."
Everyone laughed and conversation sprang up easily as the others reminisced about their own travel misadventures.
Mike ordered champagne to launch their cruise.
"To new friends and smooth sailing," Mike said raising his glass. The words were spoken to the table at large but his dark eyes bore into Sara's as he drained his glass.
The glass of wine fuelled the excitement of a first night aboard ship. As one toast followed another, an air of camaraderie grew among the group who would be tablemates for the next two weeks.
Sara would normally have sat back and studied the others, but she found herself caught up in the high spirits of the evening. She could not help joining in the laughter and taking part in the repartee. Even so, her eyes still managed to return time and again to the vital bronzed man across from her. One of the other women asked about the tan. He explained that he had just returned from building a power plant in Africa. Though he did more listening than talking, he radiated energy. She couldn't help being drawn by his deep laugh and his mesmerizing eyes.
This man, she thought wistfully, would not be on his own for long. She caught herself up sharply in mid-wish. The last thing she needed was another man. Anyway, even if she were interested, it would not take him long to discover just how disappointing a date she could be.
She shrugged out of the way of the wine steward's sleeve which had accidentally brushed her bare arm as he refilled her glass. She'd thought he had touched her earlier. Was she imagining things? Had Stephen's recent campaign to get her into his bed made her see sexual overtures everywhere?
After the meal, the middle-aged couple, Bea and Wilf, announced that they were off to finish unpacking before the show in the main lounge. The sisters and their husbands were heading up to the casino to check out the quarter slot machines. Having had enough of crowds, Sara privately decided to begin her exploration of the ship with the deserted pool deck one level up from the dining room.
She went out the first set of doors that led out to the deck and tasted the warm sea air. She walked slowly, enjoying and getting used to the slight rolling motion of the ship. When she reached the railing at the stern, she stood quietly and absorbed the sensations of being at sea. Although the ship was much smaller than some of the newer cruise ships, it was almost eighteen thousand tons. However, in the black tropical night, it seemed tiny and totally isolated. They were far enough off the coast of Florida to make it impossible to see a light on any horizon. Only the curling crests of the wake caught the light from the decks and splashed an eerie trail of white foam on the dark sea. The awesome silence was overlaid by the humming of the great engines and the rushing sound of water against the ship's hull.
Sara filled her lungs, then exhaled slowly. There was something intoxicating about the smell of clean salt air. The almost imperceptible, undulating motion of the ship and the warm sea breeze that caressed her skin were more seductive than any human lover she could imagine. Alone here, she was conscious only of the sensuous beauty of the night and the vastness of the dark ocean.
Two decks above, Mike stood looking down at her. She was truly lovely. Her long pale hair was being lifted by the wind and the lush curves of her body were outlined against the sheen of the night sea. Something in her posture communicated to him an unexpected serenity and deep sensuality.
What was the matter with him? Why was he up here mooning like a lovesick adolescent? This ethereal vision was the same shallow woman he had seen at the airport, bored with the kiss of her current lover. He wanted a playmate not a soulmate. And if he wanted to be the man to take that delectable body to his bed, he had better make his move now.
At dinner, Mike had been watching the subtle advances of the elegant Greek sommelier. Women who traveled alone were fair game in the cruise business, he'd been told. Of course, if he worked on a cruise ship and enjoyed providing romance on the high seas to single women, gorgeous Sara with her unusual eyes and corn-silk hair would be his first choice. Hell, he realized with a jolt, she was his choice. And he was going to stake his claim before anyone else did.
Too late. Just as he started down the outside stairway, he saw a man approach the railing where she stood. Even though he was now attired in casual slacks and a white silk knit shirt, Mike recognized him as the wine steward. He was too far away to hear what the man was saying.
"A little mal de mer ?"
The lightly accented male voice startled Sara. She reluctantly drew her eyes from the mesmerizing action of the waves in the silver light. The slender, dark haired man looked vaguely familiar to her.
"Not me," she said with an open smile. "I'm never seasick. I love every minute at sea. I've been looking forward to being alone with the ocean," she hinted. She did not like to be rude, but she was not the slightest bit interested in his company.
He was not going to be put off so easily.
"You don't recognize me?" His smile revealed an excellent set of teeth. "I'm Stavros ... the sommelier." When she didn't react, he clarified, "The wine steward. I noticed you at dinner. It was my impression that you are not traveling with a companion?"
He was hovering, his hand very close to hers on the railing.
"Actually, I..." She wanted to discourage him at the outset. "I do have a special friend on board," she said pleasantly but firmly. Looking about, she saw the tanned man from her table approaching fast. Mike, he'd said his name was. She smiled such a dazzling welcome that he looked startled for a split-second. But then he returned her smile.
Before she could speak, he slipped his arm around her waist and said, "So this is where you've been. I should have guessed. Shall we have that drink now, love?"
Love? she thought, suppressing a grin. He was certainly throwing himself wholeheartedly into this rescue.
"Yes," she said simply.
She waved a casual goodbye to Stavros, as Mike steered her away. The muscles of the arm that circled her back were rock hard and the warmth of his hand at her waist sent tiny currents of heat racing over her skin. He held her loosely but just close enough that his hard thigh grazed hers as they walked.
She wasn't used to being this aware of a man's body. In her teens, she had dreamed of sensual, romantic moments like this, but somehow they had never happened to her. Scenes that were supposed to be romantic became prosaic when she was involved. She had survived by learning to turn the awkward moments into light-hearted jokes. But for some reason, she didn't feel out of place tonight. The warm, moist air felt silky on her skin, dark clouds scudded across the face of the huge tropical moon, and it felt right to be here with a handsome, attentive man. She relaxed for a moment against his arm, savoring the mood.
She tensed. What was she doing? She took a deep breath and tried to sound casual. "Thanks for the help, again. You can take your arm away now."
When she saw the trace of bewilderment in his dark eyes, she grinned up at him to show that she had appreciated his act. "... Love," she added.
He gave her a fr
iendly squeeze before he released her. She liked the way he held eye contact when he spoke to her. In fact, she suspected that she could grow to like a lot of things about this man. But that was not in her plans.
He grinned back. "I was afraid I was padding my part but I couldn't resist it. Forgive me. It's my first rescue of a fair lady."
Separated by a few inches, they strolled along in silence for a minute or two.
"Would you like that drink I promised you? The piano lounge is on this deck," he ventured when they reached the little forward observation deck directly above their cabins.
"No, thank you."
Sara looked up at him. He had a nice face - rough-hewn, not too handsome. Most of the men she knew wore their hair cut shorter but Mike's shoulder-length dark hair suited his unquestionably male good looks. His large expressive eyes and masculine, yet sensuous, mouth combined pleasantly with his broad cheek bones and aggressive jaw. She forced her gaze away from his lips back to his eyes.
"I appreciate the rescue but I'm really not looking for male company," she said, hoping her eyes did not reveal how truly sorry she was. "I would only spoil your vacation."
"Spoil my vacation!" She was startled by his vehemence and the bitter edge to his voice. "This was supposed to be my honeymoon."
"Oh." She could tell by the way he averted his eyes that he regretted his admission. "I am sorry."
"She married someone else before I got home for the wedding," he mumbled awkwardly. "I'm only here because I'm too damned stubborn to pay for a cruise and not take it. Somehow it didn't cross my mind to take out cancellation insurance for my honeymoon." His laugh was short and bitter.
They both turned their faces to the soft wind and leaned their forearms on the railing. A few minutes later, Sara spoke.
"I'm here because I need some time alone to make an important decision."
"The guy at the airport?"