by Andrews, Amy
Washing her hands quickly under the tap, she dried and wiped them before heading around front to find Rasheesh talking to a group of people as he made a theatrical show of mixing a cocktail. And the man she’d been day dreaming about sitting at the end of the bar.
Her step faltered as their gazes locked. Ari’s presence was like a sudden zap of static electricity and not just because he looked devastating in a casual t-shirt fitted snug across his chest and biceps. Or the fact he hadn’t shaved, taking the stubble firmly into whisker territory. But because he said he wasn’t going to do this – monopolise her attention when she was working.
It made her super conscious of her indiscretion although, to be fair to him, Ari seemed as surprised by her presence. It wasn’t like the man was privy to her work schedule.
“Can you serve the gentleman at the end?” Rasheesh prompted as Kelsey dithered for a moment.
She nodded. There was little else she could do with the cocktail crowd at the bar and Rasheesh frowning at her uncharacteristic inaction.
“Good morning, Sir,” she said, approaching him with her most polite smile insitu. “What can I get you?” She winced internally at how stiff she sounded.
“Whiskey, please. Neat.” Ari sounded equally stiff.
Kelsey poured the drink then put it down on a white bar napkin in front of him. Ari glanced at Rasheesh then back at her saying, “Sorry,” as he lifted the drink, the glass hiding his lips. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
She gave a brief nod. Unfortunately, whether it was deliberate or accidental, she couldn’t ignore him, especially not in front of one of the bosses. It was her job to be polite, to make idle chit chat with the customer, hell even flirt a little if it meant a nice tip and a passenger deciding to upgrade to a more expensive alcohol package.
Which Kelsey would have been more than happy to try with any other passenger. But with Ari, she was determined to keep this conversation professional - no matter how hot he looked this morning.
“You’re not going to check out Naples today, Sir?” she enquired, projecting her voice a little for the benefit of Rasheesh.
They’d docked early this morning and ninety percent of the passengers had disembarked to spend a day in one of Italy’s most popular tourist destinations.
He shook his head. “I don’t really get what the fuss is about Naples.”
Kelsey agreed wholeheartedly but publically dissing one of their ports was frowned upon. “You’ve been before?”
He nodded. “Several times.”
“You could take a tour to Pompeii?” she said, her tone firmly suggestive. Him being off the ship most days would be better for avoidance purposes.
A tight smile crossed his lips and she knew damn well he’d received her message loud and clear. “I’m probably going to stay on the ship most days.”
Kelsey blinked, her brain grappling with the revelation. Ari had confessed to being a cruise virgin so surely he’d want to disembark at every stop and see all there was to see?
“I’d have thought you’d want to explore more given this is your first cruise?”
He shrugged. “I’m only planning on getting off at Mykonos.”
Kelsey’s brows rose. “Not Athens? Or Santorini?” They were the two most popular stops on the cruise.
“No.” He said no in a clipped kind of way that sounded very Greek. “I know them both well and I prefer Mykonos.”
It struck Kelsey that Ari might have been better off taking a cruise to the Caribbean rather than an area with which he was so familiar. But, maybe he hadn’t wanted to go too far afield.
“I love the beaches and sitting in all the little bars on the water’s edge,” he continued. “I love its laid back vibe.”
She nodded, his words disarming her resolve to stay polite but aloof. “I love Mykonos, too.” She loved being closer to the water. Her favourite thing to do was to sit in one of those bars and stare at the windmills.
“A woman of taste.”
His dark gaze held hers briefly before he downed his drink in one swallow, as he had yesterday. She watched the shift of muscles in his throat and the fascinating coverage of his whiskers.
Damn it all – why couldn’t the man just leave the ship every day like a normal passenger?
Tapping the rim, he said, “Another.”
Acutely aware she was staring and that he knew she was staring, Kelsey poured the drink. “What are your plans for on board then, sir?”
Her voice wobbled a little at calling him sir. It sounded kinda dirty in public given what had happened in private and it was the last thing Kelsey needed on her mind.
“Karaoke? Trivia?” Kelsey didn’t care, as long as it was far away from her. “There’s a martini appreciation class going on in the main bar? Or maybe,” she said with saccharine sweetness annoyed that he was making her feel hot and bothered just from his very presence, “some bingo?”
The man looked like he played Black Jack not bingo but he was a mass of contradictions. Here he was, a handsome – hell, really fucking hot - professional guy, travelling alone on a cruise ship. From the t-shirt he was wearing to the suit she’d seen him in last night, to that damn room towel, he oozed sex appeal.
Everything from the way he wore his clothes to the way he held himself screamed style and class. He looked like the kind of guy who could have a Kardashian on his arm and splash out on a suite - with a balcony.
So which Ari George, was the real one? T-shirt or suit? Bingo or black jack? Inside cabin or whiskey in the morning?
“I’m going to the spa for a massage.”
Kelsey swallowed as thoughts of him naked and supine on a massage table, glistening with oil, rose in her mind. Her friend, Sachiko, was working in the spa today and Kelsey was suddenly jealous.
“The spa services are top rate.”
Somehow, she managed to keep her voice calm and her breathing even despite the pictures multiplying in her brain.
Images of her hands on him, gliding all over his slick, supple muscles, her hands working and kneading, watching as his cock hardened beneath his towel and her fingers slid beneath...
He drained his glass and placed it down on the bar with a thunk, snapping Kelsey out of her daydream. “Thank you for the drink.” He slid off the stool, pulled his wallet out and thrust a twenty euro note in her direction.
Kelsey stared at the money as if was a tarantula. It was obviously a tip but it felt...icky to take his money and she was pissed off he’d even offered. In fact, she was about to refuse but Rasheesh approached and she quickly accepted it because it would appear odd not to and she didn’t need the attention.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking the money but he was already walking away, every inch the Black Jack player.
Kelsey was still ticked about the tip an hour later as she headed to her lunch break. In fact she was probably more annoyed thanks to the continuing barrage of unhelpful images keeping her company since Ari had departed. She didn’t know how it was possible to be insulted and turned on all at once but that was absolutely her current state of being.
So she totally acted on impulse when she spotted Ari just ahead as she made her way to the mess. Totally reacted to the proximity of the staff-only room used to house linen and cleaning equipment.
Casting a quick glance around them to establish they were alone in the passageway, she said, “Pardon me, sir.” She raised her voice a little to get his attention, her pulse fluttering madly at her daring.
He stopped, turned at her voice, frowned when his eyes met hers. “Could I have a word with you, please?”
He glanced at the door as Kelsey yanked it open and a flare of heat lit the darkness of his gaze. Her breath hitched at the raw, naked need she saw there and for a moment the knowledge that this was a very bad idea pulsed openly between them and she thought he might refuse.
He did not.
Brushing past her, he entered and Kelsey followed him inside. Checking no-one had seen them, she eas
ed the door gently shut. They had a tendency to bang if allowed to close without assistance. Passengers didn’t like it and she sure as hell didn’t want to advertise their location.
The light was significantly reduced with the door shut but Kelsey could feel the charge in the air from Ari’s presence as she slowly turned. There was probably only a few feet separating them and he was backed against a set of shelves that held folded sheets. His whole frame was taut as a bow as he eyed her warily, clearly trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.
For which Kelsey was grateful.
But with her eyes adjusting to the low light Kelsey couldn’t help but notice the way he filled out his shirt or the fascinating bulge behind the zipper of his fly. It appeared he was as turned on by this clandestine meeting as she was.
Lordy, she wished she’d never discovered how good he was with that thing.
His hands curled and uncurled convulsively by his side. “Christe, dósei mou éna diáleimma Kelsey.”
Kelsey had no idea what he’d said but it was clearly based in frustration. His voice was gravel, his eyes hooded as she dragged her gaze from his crotch to his face.
“Talk, Kelsey,” he said, his voice deep and low. “I’m trying really hard here but if you keep looking at me like that...I can’t guarantee what might happen next.”
Kelsey was grateful for the solid presence of the door close behind her at his dirty rumble. Her body flamed, threatening to set everything, including her common sense, on fire. Clearing her throat, she dragged her brain back from the tug of a hundred different sex-in-confined-spaces scenarios.
But then his hands furled and unfurled by his sides again and her gaze dropped to follow the movement and before she knew it her eyes were drawn once more to that bulge. Ari made some kind of guttural noise in the back of his throat, moving suddenly in her direction, backing her up until her ass hit the door.
Kelsey’s heart pounded and her breath felt thick as fog in the back of her throat as he placed the flats of his forearms either side of her head, pressed his body into hers and kissed her with such potent hunger and greed the back of her head thunked against the door.
“God,” he said on a groan. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” His mouth left hers and blazed a trail of kisses down her neck, his hands sliding low, settling on her ass and squeezing, melting the muscles in her pelvic floor.
Kelsey had been thinking of little else as well, her mind vacillating between heated memories of last night and annoyance over the tip. But it was hard to think of anything other than succumbing to the promise of his lips, the erotic scrape of his whiskers and the squeeze of his hands.
Liquid heat pooled between her hips and her legs felt as if they were made of marshmallow but there were still a few brain cells functioning and she grabbed hold of them before things devolved any further. She sucked in a deep, hard breath and reached for her earlier annoyance.
“Stop.” She pressed a hand to his chest trying to give herself space to breathe. To think. “We need to talk.”
He gave a deep strangled groan, burying his forehead into the crook of her neck as his hand stopped their dizzying rhythm. His harsh, ragged pants puffed hot air against her collar bone.
Ari lifted his head, a frustrated kind of torment haunting his dark eyes as their gazes met. But he eased his hands from her ass and took two paces backwards until he bumped up against the shelves again.
If possible, with his mouth wet from their kisses, he looked hotter and Kelsey gripped the door handle behind her for support.
“I really didn’t know you were at that bar. I couldn’t see you when I arrived or I wouldn’t have sat down.”
“I know.” Kelsey waved his explanation away, she had bigger fish to fry.
He frowned. “Okay, so...why are we here?” He stared at her with an intensity she was getting used to, his gaze roving over her like she was a particularly interesting spreadsheet.
Kelsey forced herself to concentrate, to answer his question. “Don’t tip me.” She winced at how blunt and awkward it sounded, hurrying to qualify. “If our paths happen to cross in a work capacity, don’t tip me.”
“But...” His frown deepened. “Why wouldn’t I tip you for good service? I would do it for anyone.”
Kelsey could see his point but it didn’t matter. “Don’t do it for me.”
His frown deepened. “Don’t tips make up a significant portion of your wage? Should you be knocking them back?”
She rolled her eyes. “I won’t miss the odd tip from one person. It makes me feel...uncomfortable, Ari. Like you’re using a tip as a proxy for payment of...other services.”
His stance suddenly got very erect. “That was not what I was doing.”
His quick, hot denial was unnecessary but welcome. “I know, I know.” Kelsey held her hands up in a placatory manner. “It’s just that some passengers think tips buy them...special privileges.”
In her time on cruise ships she’d been blatantly groped, accidentally brushed up against, propositioned, and the butt of plenty of male passenger sleazy innuendo.
He straightened even further. “What? Does the cruise line know about this?”
“Of course.”
“And they just...” He looked utterly aghast. “Let it happen? Let their staff be sexually harassed like that?”
Kelsey shrugged. “Some ships are better at it than others so you mostly learn how to deal with that class of passenger yourself.”
“And what about this ship?”
Kelsey shook her head dismissively. “They’re a bit hit and miss but...that’s not my point.” She didn’t want to get sidetracked. “Just don’t, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
He stared at her for long seconds, his mouth in a straight hard line, the angle of his jaw blanching white beneath the dark growth of his whiskers. Then he dragged in a deep breath and the taut line of his shoulders relaxed. “Of course,” he said, with a nod. “Whatever you want.”
Oh dear lord no. What she wanted right now was unspeakable.
Kelsey swallowed. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” And now they needed to get the hell out of this tiny, tiny room. “I’m going to check the corridor is all clear,” she said, taking charge. “And then I’m going to leave. You wait for a minute, check it’s still all clear then leave, too.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Should we synchronise our watches?”
She shot him a quelling look which he waved away. “Go.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. Dropped lower to the snug fit of her polo shirt before returning to her face. “Now.”
Kelsey turned, opened the door and stepped outside, her legs wobbly, her heart racing.
Ari was distracted during dinner that night. Jean Paul, the maitre’d - a fit looking man in his fifties with silver hair and plenty of swagger - had suggested the previous evening that Ari might like to try a different table every night rather than sticking to the same one. To meet all the ladies he had said with a hearty slap on the back.
Ari wasn’t keen on the smoothness of the maitre’d but he was clearly popular with the female passengers and it was sensible advice to get to meet as many people as possible. And that was, after all, what he was here for – to meet fellow passengers, garner their experiences, find out about their gripes.
Get to the bottom of the problems with the Hellenic Spirit.
It was a shame he was being constantly distracted by Kelsey. She was at the opposite end of the restaurant to him but the bob and swish of her blond ponytail was like a magnet in his peripheral vision, a constant reminder of their tête-à-tête earlier. Of how he’d tried so damn hard not to put his hands on her in that god forsaken cupboard, of how she’d looked at him with heat and hunger and destroyed all his resolve.
He didn’t want to feel this way, damn it.
“Can you pass the bread please?”
Ari dragged himself out of his head and smiled at the woman beside him. She was an American, diamonds glittering on her finge
rs and at her throat. Her hair was elegantly greying and she had a tightness to her face that did not match her neck or hands. Her husband was wearing a ten thousand dollar suit with a Stetson and, if Ari was not very much mistaken, had also had some work done around his eyes. He was in fracking apparently.
There were three other couples around the table. Two of them were travelling with Mr and Mrs Stetson and were obviously as wealthy, talking about the time they all stayed in Monte Carlo. The seat beside him was vacant, but on the opposite side of the table were a couple from Lancashire, celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary.
He’d been a factory worker all of his life, his wife worked as a care assistant in a nursing home. They were dressed well but it was clear they were not in the same socio-economic class as the other couples at the table. Not that it seemed to matter to anyone at the table. The Americans were including the English couple and himself in their conversations and were interested in life in the UK and Athens.
The only person that seemed to have trouble with the wealth disparity between the passengers was the waiter allocated to their table. His name was Sameel, he looked about twenty-five and he was new to cruising. The Hellenic Spirit was his first vessel and this cruise was his first after completing his training a few weeks ago.
And so far, he wasn’t doing so great.
Whilst he wasn’t exactly rude to the English couple or Ari, he was far more attentive to the Americans. He fussed over them to the point of obsequiousness and turned himself inside out to correct the error when one of their steaks arrived medium rather than rare. Meanwhile the gentleman from Lancashire had asked twice for some mustard and it still hadn’t arrived.
Ari made a mental note and filed it away for later as, once again, his peripheral vision snagged on the swish and bob of Kelsey’s ponytail. He surrendered to the urge to watch her for a moment or two, drawn to her in a way he didn’t understand. She was in silhouette, framed by the large round porthole to her rear and the golden rays of the sun setting over the Mediterranean temporarily set her aflame.
