Pleasure Cruise Trilogy (Box Set)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “For the win and your pick of one of our extraordinary, fabulous, magnificent prizes.” He again paused for effect. He seemed to enjoy doing that quite a bit. “Polly Anna, what written masterpiece besides the Bible has been a bestseller and has now sold more copies than any other book in the English language?”

  “The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer,” Anna answered, not bothering to elaborate as he’d just cut her off again. Jock’s mouth fell open and he nodded.

  Applause buzzed around her. Jock said something but she couldn’t make out the words. She was numb. Her ears rang. Now that it was over, Anna felt dizzy. There were no more questions, nothing left to concentrate on. The cameraman shoved the camera in her face and the light reflecting off the lens caught her eye. It was all she could do to stand up straight, let alone smile at the crowd who chanted her name. She’d never been comfortable in front of crowds unless she had a planned speech or was debating, thus keeping her mind occupied. To be standing now, on national television and with nothing else to think of, was too much.

  Curtains opened, lights flashed, confetti fell from the ceiling, showering around her. A balloon bumped her on the head. Behind a curtain, a nice shiny black SUV turned on the showroom floor next to a blue Jet Ski. Several other prizes spun on large circular turntables.

  SUV, her mind chanted. Her lips didn’t move though she tried to force the words past them. I want the SUV…

  “Which will it be?” Jock asked. His voice was muffled in her head, slow and drawn-out.

  Suddenly Anna felt as if she were underwater. Her mind raced in terror, thinking about all the homes that had televisions, calculating how many people per family watched television—were watching her at this very moment.

  “Which one, Po-lly An-na?”

  Anna swallowed, unable to speak, and remained frozen.

  Chapter One

  “Don’t you read the news, Winter? Do you know what kind of diseases are on cruise ships? They’re like floating viruses, breeding grounds for any sickness you could imagine. My goodness, if they don’t kill you with communicable diseases transmitted from person to person, the food will get you. I shudder to think how many forms of hepatitis could be contracted on this thing. Don’t even get me started on restaurants at each port. Not all countries have our standard of sanitation. You never know…”

  Winter rolled her eyes behind Anna’s designer-suit-clad back and mimicked her talking. Her friend hadn’t shut up about the cruise since she’d won it on the game show. Looking at the giant ship at port along the Texas coastline, she didn’t see Anna’s floating virus. She saw a portal to fun. The blue ocean and warm, salty air beckoned them out to sea. Though they would sail around the Caribbean, the ship schedule didn’t show them docking at any island ports—or so Anna said, as Winter didn’t live her life by adhering to schedules. Instead they would be trapped, adrift in paradise with nothing but the waves and, if her tea-leaf reading held true, scores of single, hot men. Could anything be more romantic?

  Having gone through the long check in process, they finally heard their group number called for loading. Their luggage had been checked in at the curb in front of the three-story cruise line building and was being delivered to their staterooms. The line paused as photographer insisted on setting up group photos before letting the guests onto the ship.

  Hearing Anna’s loud, grumpy sigh, Winter said, “Everything happens for a reason. Why not have a little faith in the master plan? Maybe this cruise is your destiny.”

  “No,” Anna said, matter-of-factly. “My date with destiny was a brand-new black SUV with brown leather interior and all the add-on features. Oh, and the complementary Jet Ski to pull behind it. Not some floating deathtrap and a week of debauchery.”

  “You’re planning on debau—on getting laid?” Winter arched a brow, hopeful her friend was finally ready to take a walk on the wild side of life. “By something that’s not mechanical or requires batteries? Maybe you’re right,” she reached for Anna’s forehead, “maybe you already contracted something.”

  Anna merely glared, not saying a word. Winter was unfazed. She hoped Anna got laid, and good. Maybe it would lighten her up. Maybe if some guy did her so hard she could barely walk, her mind would shut off and for once she’d not think, just act.

  “SUVs are so boring, so… corporate. Do you really want to be like ‘the man’?”

  “Who is this mysterious ‘man’ who you’re always blaming for ruining the world?” Anna asked sarcastically.

  “Mr. Peterson, down the street.” Winter chuckled, getting way too much enjoyment out of razzing her longtime friend.

  “Please, he’s like eighty years old and is as harmless as they come.” Anna rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, harmless, sure he is. I swear that harmless old man pinched my ass at the Christmas party last year. I’m not sure, because he forgot his teeth and his pronunciation was off, but I think he propositioned me. Either that or he once had pigs that wanted to wallow in the muck.”

  Winter prompted her friend to walk with her as she took a step toward the photo backdrop. She found it funny that they had a backdrop of a boat on it when the actual boat could be seen through the third story window. They paused long enough for the man to snap the shot before Anna pulled Winter toward the loading plank to get away from him. If Anna had her way, they’d stand on the dock until the ship was out of sight only to turn right back around and go home.

  “I’m not listening to this again. Besides, last Christmas didn’t you change your name to Moonchild? So, if what you say is true, Mr. Peterson pinched Moonchild’s ass, not yours.”

  Winter widened her eyes in jest. “No, it was Rainbow. Moonchild was the name I selected the year before. Come on, Anna, is it really that hard to keep track of these things? I remember your list of neuroses, the very least you could do is keep track of my name changes.”

  “I do my best, Dances with Field Mice.”

  “Oh, come on, that was a joke! A spoof… Never mind. Why do I even bother? Fine, call me what you will, Ms. Uptight, but tell me one thing. Do you ever get tired of knowing everything?”

  Anna scoffed. “No one knows everything, Winter. It’s a proven fact that—” She stopped walking, no doubt realizing that she was indeed proving Winter’s case, again.

  Winter caught sight of a petite girl with long, sleek black hair and the most beautiful caramel-colored skin she’d ever seen stepping aboard the ship. “Oh, Anna, look over there, isn’t that Michi Sue Lin, the winner on Date with Destiny two weeks prior to you?”

  Anna glanced over and shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? I’d never even heard of the show prior to you signing me up for it, let alone watched it. But if it is, then she must have gotten ripped off in the prize selection category as well.”

  “I hardly call a paid vacation and a lifetime supply of Supernatural Pepper Spray 3000 a rip-off. You need to lighten up.” Winter reached into her handbag and palmed her own can of the spray. She couldn’t see herself ever actually using it but Anna had been insistent she take a bottle for protection.

  “I’d be more than ‘lightened up’ in my very own SUV.” Anna frowned, only to grumble in self-depreciation, “If only I hadn’t frozen on stage.”

  “Forget about missing out on that gas guzzler. Oh, do you know what? You should buy an old van. Oh! We could get one together, fix it up and paint the sides. Then we could go cross-country with nothing but our van and our friendship to guide us.” Winter grinned, her bright blue eyes shining with excitement. The change of subject was more than in order. Life was an adventure, not a chore like Anna tried to make it out to be.

  “With love beads and tassels?” Anna asked dryly.

  Flipping her free-flowing brown curls over her shoulder, Winter squealed. “Oh perfect! What colors do you want? I already have a few sets in orange, pink and yellow. I might be able to find purple and blue ones too. We need a bed in the back just in case we should happen to luck out and find some action. I alw
ays love fucking men in the backs of vans. It’s one of my favorite pastimes. And I could dye some sheets to match the beads and it all would be just perfect.” She jumped up and down, a little giddy schoolgirl, clapping her hands. “So, does this mean you want to do it?”

  The look on Anna’s face told her the answer was no. Winter couldn’t have contrasted Anna more if she tried. Anna was all pearls and antique lace. Having grown up an only child to some very rich parents, she’d spent her childhood in private schools, learning French and how to play the violin. Now an independent adult doing her best to make it on her own, Anna still hadn’t lost her rich-girl ways.

  She didn’t own one article of clothing that had a hole in it and Winter couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Anna’s hair out of a prim-and-proper, no-nonsense bun or twist. Anna could’ve been a real hottie with the help of Winter’s “I wanna sex you up” makeover. She really did have the ass to pull off a thong, even though she denied it emphatically.

  Winter was all love beads, clogs and living for the moment. Her carefree nature was due in part to her fun-loving hippie parents. They’d raised her with love and political awareness. Briefly, she wondered where they might be now. The last she’d heard they were in southern California blowing glass water pipes with some of their friends but she wasn’t entirely sure. She wasn’t as hardcore about hippie life as they were, but she was a bit “different” from most other people.

  Winter’s long blue skirt was tied around her waist, perfect for the beach. It blew in the warm sea air, hitting her legs. She loved the smell of the ocean. It reminded her of home. Spending most of her childhood in various communes along the Pacific coastline, she’d grown accustomed to the ocean. Living in the city, she’d always felt something was missing inside her and the minute she drew in a breath of salty air, she knew what it was.

  A gentle breeze blew past her, causing her nipples to go erect. It was a good thing she’d remembered to wear her bikini top this time because the shirt was see-through and she didn’t need Anna yelling at her about it—again.

  “Really, Anna, can we get a van and travel? I’ve got a friend in Portsburg who’d get us a fabulous deal and he might even knock more off the price if I blow him again. He melts the very second I suck him off. It’s been a few months since I’ve seen him and I’m guessing he’s hard as hell. Don’t look at me like that. Sex is meant to be enjoyed, not scoffed at. And, before you launch into another lecture, I’m up-to-date on all my shots so there is no threat of sexually transmitted diseases or pregnancy. The days of free love are back, sweetie, hop on the love train! Speaking of trains—”

  “Please don’t bring up the men you’re sleeping with. The day is only so long, you know,” Anna said, her tone flat as she lifted her travel size designer suitcase. She had refused to let the baggage handlers have it. Unzipping the front, she dug out a stack of papers. “Here. You’ll need your boarding pass and passport.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Winter frowned, momentarily disheartened by her best friend’s mood. Then, forgetting the van like she did with so many ideas in her life, she said, “I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’re the one who froze and didn’t answer. Jock asked you to select your prize. What were you doing anyway, standing there all green and wavy? I almost screamed out for someone to toss you a bucket. That would have been something, you throwing up on national television.”

  “I told you, I had a small panic attack.” Anna’s face colored slightly and Winter knew she was silently yelling at herself. Her parents had demanded perfection from her and now she demanded it from herself. It was really quite sad. “The camera was on me and I was calculating how many people were watching national TV at that moment, subtracting a reasonable number for those at work and watching other channels. I estimated it had to be at least a million viewers.”

  “Um, no, it was sweeps week so I think it was like five times that and a lot of people have those digital recorders where they can record live TV to watch their shows after work. Not to mention, Date with Destiny is dubbed into at least twelve different languages and played worldwide. Granted, it’s not a live broadcast like here in the States and it does lag several weeks behind, but still…”

  Anna paled dramatically, looking strikingly similar to the way she had on air. Wringing her hands, she wiped them on her skirt.

  Winter reached over to rub small circles between her friend’s tense shoulder blades. “Hey, don’t think about it, sweetie. It’s over. It’s not like they air reruns in the States… much.”

  “I know I messed up and didn’t answer but they didn’t have to give me the cruise! I can’t believe they let some heckler from the crowd pick my prize.”

  “Yeah,” Winter said, absently following Anna’s gaze toward the piece of designer luggage. The pile of luggage Anna brought with them was far different from the one shoddy duffel bag and a brown paper bag stuffed with Winter’s clothes. “Sorry about that. I just got excited thinking about us taking a vacation together. You never do anything outside of work and I thought this would the perfect chance for you to finally get out of the house. Don’t you have around two years’ worth of vacation time saved up?”

  Anna didn’t answer. She looked forward. “Aren’t they going to send someone down to escort us to our room? Where’s the concierge? Bellhops? Anyone?”

  “Ah, I don’t think cruise ships have those. They have stewards assigned to the staterooms and a guest service desk. This ship has porters onboard too to assist the stewards. Read about it in the brochure. For the most part, we fend for ourselves.” Winter laughed. “Come on, champ, let’s get moving.”

  * * *

  Christian Badau listened to his twin brother’s loud singing coming from the shower. It was easy to imagine, by the constant thumps from the stall, that Andre was dancing as well. It sounded like this morning was shaping up to be another one of Andre’s one-man rock ‘n’ roll tribute to the Eighties hair bands. Lucky for him, the impromptu concert in the shower didn’t include spandex, eyeliner and hairspray—though that was one outfit he wouldn’t put past his brother. Yesterday it had been alternative music. To Christian’s listening horror, Andre had “performed” what must have been Nirvana’s entire first album before he launched into an oral dissertation on how the band single-handedly unleashed the grunge movement out of Seattle in the Nineties. How any band could have been so angry and depressed was beyond Christian’s understanding, and still Andre managed to find enough of a beat to move to it.

  Christian sighed, leaning forward as he peered into the stateroom’s oval bathroom mirror. Combing his long brown hair back from his face, he pulled it into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. Not a hair was out of place when he finished. He had personal grooming down to a science.

  He wore nothing but a towel wrapped neatly around his firm waist. His bare feet absently tapped on the floor as Andre started on his next Eighties tune. His twin really wasn’t a bad singer, if he’d just stop butchering the lyrics.

  Suddenly the shower turned off and Andre hopped out, glistening wet as he strummed an air guitar while flicking his tongue in and out. Christian’s brow rose as he tried not to watch Andre’s one-man show. Though the event was oddly like a car crash—as much as one didn’t want to look at it, the compulsion to do so trumped all restraints.

  Andre didn’t even seem to notice he had an audience,—that, or he just didn’t care. Still humming softly, he grabbed a towel off the wall and haphazardly dried his hair, then his body, not caring that he missed a few spots.

  “Hey, let me get in here,” Andre said, dropping his damp towel on the floor and reaching toward the neatly organized sink. He knocked down a bottle of cologne while grabbing the mousse. Squirting some hair product on his hand, he continued humming as he dropped the can in the sink. As Andre moussed his hair, combing the messy length only with his fingers, Christian picked up the fallen bottles. Andre winked at his reflection. “Oh yeah, thanks, I need mousse.”

  “You hav
e a bathroom in your own cabin, Andre.”

  “Oh, I know, Christian.” Andre mimicked his brother’s stern tone before saying lightly, “But I sort of forgot to carry my toiletry bag with me through check-in and the baggage handlers haven’t brought all of my bags to the room yet. I don’t have anything but my toothbrush next door. Well, that and some of my clothes, of course.”

  “I gave you a list of what to carry on and what to check in.”

  “Yeah, and when I was out the other night, I ran into this foxy gal and needed something to give her my number with.” Andre smiled. “It worked great, thanks.”

  Christian didn’t dignify the comment with a response. He sighed as Andre grabbed his cologne and put it on, not bothering to recap it when he was done. Picking up after Andre as his brother strode from the bathroom naked, he mumbled, “Just like home.”

  * * *

  Andre ignored his grumbling brother and headed to his cabin in order to dress. Christian spent too much time being perfect. Andre was just the opposite. He liked music, movies, making an artistic mess and a well-written novel, especially the ones that had loads of steamy sex poured on each page. Who wanted to have an intellectual conversation when you could lie on your back and just let your mind drift aimlessly? Or watch the latest hottie ride you as her tits bounced in your face.

  Ah, this is the life… or at least it was, for soon I’ll be a married man.

  The stateroom was going to be his and his new bride’s. Christian and his future wife would share the stateroom next door to theirs. There was an adjoining door but it locked from both sides to ensure privacy. Already Andre had tried to suggest wife-swapping and his brother had nearly choked the life out of him prior to even boarding. As much as Christian disliked the idea of having a human as a mate, he apparently liked the thought of Andre sharing her even less. Christian had even lectured him on how once he met his true mate and felt the pull of his beast he’d abandon all thoughts of other women.