by Lindy Corbin
It was a clear signal that things were not right with her emotions. She needed some time to regroup, to regain her sanity.
At the foot of the stairs, he pointed to the left, indicating the door there led into her room. Straight ahead, perpendicular to the stairs was a short hallway off which two other doors led. The other guest cabins, she guessed. Niko brushed past her in the close quarters, opening the door to her cabin and gesturing for her to go in.
As she stepped forward, he muttered a curse and turned, trying to block her view with one shoulder, but it was too late.
The blue cabin. Obviously the master suite, judging by the king-size bed that covered half the floor. There was room for a small desk along one wall and a small sofa, also covered in a blue fabric embroidered with a swirling pattern in black thread. Black accent pillows on the bed picked up the theme.
It was classic and gorgeous and decorated to the hilt for the honeymoon couple. White paper wedding bells strung together with garlands of pink ribbon hung from the ceiling. A silver container sat on the desk under the window, ready for a chilled bottle of champagne while two glasses stood nearby, both decorated with pink and white ribbons. A basket of rose petals rested on the bedside table and scented the room with a near-sickly smell. Nestled inside were small bottles that Kara suspected were lotions and massage oils.
It was a room to tempt lovers to explore each other’s bodies. A room she was to have shared with Frank.
“I’m sorry, I should have realized Elaina would request the honeymoon package,” Niko said tersely. “I’ll have Eduardo remove these things immediately.”
She held up one hand as she stepped further into the room. “Please, I don’t want to be a bother. It will just delay our leaving.” Her graveled voice was barely recognizable as her own. “Besides, it might bring me some closure to put this stuff away.”
He hesitated, as if he wanted to argue, then seemed to think better of it. Placing her bag on the bed, he gave a short nod and backed out of the room. “The ship is yours for the day,” he said from the doorway. “Explore it at your leisure. I’ll see you up top when you’re ready.”
As the door closed, she found herself staring at her reflection in the strips of bronzed mirror that flanked each side of the bed. She looked beat, defeated. The bravado that had kept her upright all night escaped her in a rush and she slumped against the door. Failure wasn’t something she’d had a lot of experience with – at least not this kind of major crash-and-burn humiliation.
She leaned there, her eyes closed tight as she waited for the ache in her throat to burst into a flood of tears. It didn’t happen. Rage emerged as the dominant emotion, not sadness or regret. Her fingers clenched, the urge to pound her fist into the beautifully paneled wall and ease her frustration as foreign to her as her surroundings.
Striding to the head of the bed, she grabbed the curled paper ribbons that trailed across the pillows. Scrunching them into a ball in her fist, she threw the wad toward a trash can with a savage thrust of her arm. It landed a good two feet away. With a frustrated sigh, she strode over to pick it up and place it in the receptacle. It was ridiculous, this ingrained urge to always do the right thing, no matter how small. Even now, she was taking the weight of this affair on her shoulders, as if it were her fault, assuming she wasn’t good enough for Frank.
She’d always thought she was a reasonably attractive, healthy young woman in good physical condition. She ate nourishing meals, exercised enough to keep the cellulite at bay and didn’t smoke. Still, she had failed to keep her man. Nature had not graced her with the curved body that men like Frank hungered for. Nor had she learned to give that sultry, come-hither look some women mastered. She was just an ordinary person who had lost out to a temptress.
She had to be honest with herself. Frank was an ordinary man as well. Not wealthy or even particularly handsome. If it had happened with someone like him, it would happen with any man. Marriage with a partner who would stay at her side, who would love only her and be able to resist the wiles of other women, was a childish dream. Statistics proved that every day. She’d been stupid to think it would be different for her. She was not special in any way. No different than every other woman who’d had their heart broken by an unfaithful man.
Here, in the close confines of the cabin, she felt hidden, protected from the outside world. She could wallow in self-pity without anyone to watch. Once she stepped out, there were things to do, people to face. She longed to avoid all that. The temptation was intense to find Frank and beg him to marry her as though nothing had happened. It would be easy to walk down the aisle with a smile plastered on her face and play the happy bride. She’d been rehearsing for months. She could do it. The honeymoon though, and the long years after were a different story. It was unlikely that she would ever trust him again. A life full of suspicions and recriminations was no way to live.
To shake off the depressing thoughts, she surveyed her surroundings more closely. Light oak panels encased the walls, tinted mirrors lent the impression of a generous space and Roman shades in a cool blue fabric shielded the portholes. She pulled the cord to raise one shade. Weak sunshine flooded the room as she looked out at the white yacht in the next dock. Muted bumps and bangs alerted her that the other crew member, George, had been found and they were preparing to leave. She was curious about what they were doing, but decided it was best to take care of this room first. Perhaps when it was done, she would feel calmer and more in control.
The paper wedding bells were attached with double-sided tape that came down easily. She folded each one and placed it into a drawer in the desk, along with its contingent of pink ribbon. The champagne glasses and ice bucket she hid in the closet. She hesitated a moment over the bottles of scented oils and lotions, as well as the condoms she’d found at the bottom of the basket. Those she deposited into a drawer on the bedside table. This yacht was held for lease, usually for week-long trips through the Caribbean islands. It gave her an odd sense of satisfaction that some lucky couple would find and use the items.
It was hard to believe that she wouldn’t be spending the night in Frank’s arms. Even harder to believe that he’d been having an affair. He’d been so reserved in the bedroom, something she’d hoped would change after their marriage. He definitely had not been holding back with the blonde.
She and her girlfriends had noticed the black Hummer limousine outside the bar and thought it would be great fun to crash Frank’s bachelor’s party. Instead, Kara had been shocked to see her fiancé inside the vehicle, grinding away from behind the blonde in hard mindless sex. He’d squeezed the woman’s breast through her thin white tank top. As she moaned, he’d jerked her head around to shove his tongue down her throat.
It was humiliating to know her friends, ranged behind her, had witnessed the vulgar scene. The thought of ever being in that woman’s place made her physically ill in that moment. It still did.
Or perhaps what made her ill were the unanswered questions. Had she misinterpreted his timidity as shyness when it was, in fact, dissatisfaction with their sex life? If so, what hope did she have with other men? She’d thought there was an awareness, a flicker of interest between her and Niko, but he’d dumped her in this cabin without a backward glance.
It was obvious that she’d imagined any attraction between them. Was this what was meant by a rebound relationship? That the first man she stumbled across she’d want with an almost ridiculous intensity? Or perhaps it had something to do with the scene of Frank and the woman he’d been with last night. She wanted the delicious, heated excitement she had sensed in their urgent movements. The utter surrender to desire. No awkwardness, no thinking, only feeling.
Niko could deliver this. She knew it in some deep, responsive, feminine core. Her mind, though, was aware that he was totally off limits. The problems that would arise if she were to become involved with her stepmother’s brother were colossal. She should follow his lead and keep her distance.
Entering th
e small private bathroom that housed a shower and soft, thick towels embroidered with the Maragos Shipping logo, she flushed the rose petals down the toilet. She didn’t feel the sting of retribution that she’d expected, but then again she didn’t feel the pain either.
The idea of a quick shower was irresistible. When done, she changed into the tank top and jeans she found in the overnight bag and left the room, wandering into the kitchen – or galley, as she thought it was called on a ship. A myriad of stainless steel cabinets and appliances vied for space in the cramped quarters. An oval port hole over the single sink let in light that dappled across a bowl of fresh, red apples left on the counter. Helping herself to one, she bit into its crisp sweetness as she strolled back toward the staircase. She stopped with one foot on the first rung. Pivoting slowly, she stepped across the small landing and opened the door to the closest guest bedroom.
She shouldn’t pry, but hadn’t Niko told her the ship was hers for the day? The room was furnished in darker paneled wood with gold bedcovers trimmed in scarlet. Nothing personal in sight. No hint of inner knowledge about the man. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why she cared.
If this understated luxury was his lifestyle, then it was apparent that Nikolaos Maragos was out of her league. A man with his family connections would know models, actresses, a bevy of wealthy and sophisticated women. Compared to them, she would seem commonplace, nothing but a problem foisted on him by his half-sister.
For a moment, she considered jumping ship, just walking off. The alternative wasn’t attractive: Aunt Betty preaching to her about the importance of a long engagement, her cousins being overly sympathetic. The thought of facing them made her flinch.
She raised her hands to wipe away the destructive thoughts with impatient movements. Her mother had always told her to find a spark of enjoyment in the day, no matter how disappointed she was in how it had turned out. Never had she found that advice so hard to take. Still, she’d try. She’d find something to enjoy in Key West, and then she’d catch the first flight back to her everyday world where she had a small apartment and a cat. Houdini would be glad to see her home early as would her boss. He’d been upset to lose two of his staff to a vacation at the same time.
She pulled the door shut and stood in the small opening at the foot of the stairs. A groan rose in her throat. Her office was just down the hall from Frank’s. She bit into the apple again, viciously ripping off a chunk. She liked her job at the marketing firm and liked most of her co-workers. She’d be damned if she allowed Frank one more victory over her feelings or her life. If he couldn’t handle being in the same office with her, let him find a new job. She was staying right where she was. *Niko told himself not to go looking for trouble, but Kara was a guest on board the ship and she’d appreciate a warning that they were close to their destination. It had been easy to avoid contact with the woman for the last couple of hours. She and Eduardo had prepared a simple breakfast while he and George piloted the ship through the straights around Sanibel Island and out into the open water of the Gulf of Mexico. He’d eaten in the pilot house, then turned the controls over to Eduardo and busied himself with checking out every inch of the vessel.
Even so, he’d been aware of Kara’s presence on the ship. He’d smelled the lingering hint of her perfume when he walked through the main cabin and heard her laugh as she talked with the other men. George was twenty years old and had recently moved from Greece for a stint in the U. S. offices in Miami. He was hoping to improve his English so that he could work on the tourist boats when he returned home. What he lacked in communications skills he made up for with a flashing white smile and obvious appreciation for an attractive female. The sound of their laughter grated on Niko’s nerves and interfered with his concentration as he made a list of minor repairs, making him wonder if he’d chosen the right course.
The rush of attraction that he felt for this woman had left him disturbed, restless with unsatisfied cravings. Still, it had been good to discover that a woman existed who could spark his interest with nothing more than a dance. His recent relationships had been brief, mutual agreements to seek physical release. Not one woman had managed to creep into his every thought. Until now.
He watched Kara from the other side of the darkly tinted sliding glass doors. She’d changed into a swim suit top and a pair of shorts and found a novel from the selection kept for guests. She was lying on a recliner on the aft deck, within the high protective walls of the ship’s sides that blocked the worst of the stiff breeze and the salt spray whipped up by their passing. He sighed as he felt the inevitable tightening in his lower body when she was near. He was a leg man, and this woman had a delectable pair just the way he liked them; toned, but not bulging with muscle. Even better if they were wrapped around his waist.
He knew less of her body than the women who crawled all over him at night clubs, inviting him to touch and squeeze them there in the darkness. Yet he yearned with an odd intensity to sit beside her and soothe her skin beneath his palms from the tip of her pink-tinted toenails to the silky golden-brown of her hair. What had he been thinking when he’d agreed to spend the day with her? Everything about her was a temptation that he must resist. He’d thought he could take what he wanted from her, giving pleasure and forgetfulness in return, but that was before he’d seen her face when presented with Eduardo’s misunderstanding and the decorations in the cabin.
She was a different woman, a different place in time, but the pain was the same. She was suffering and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he took advantage of her. Lifting one hand, he ran it through his short hair, then slid open the door.
She looked up, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses as she placed one finger in the book to mark her place. She didn’t smile, but drew in her knees to allow him room to sit on the end of the padded recliner. He accepted the silent invitation, leaning toward her with his forearms resting on his thighs.
“We dock in about twenty minutes.”
She nodded, then cleared her throat. “Will anyone be coming ashore with me?”
As if he’d let her on the island without him in that bikini top. Made of a shiny material with gold threads that glinted in the sunlight, it caught the eye, dragging a man’s gaze straight to her beautifully rounded breasts. “Eduardo and George will stay with the ship. They’ll refuel, then take turns guarding it so the other can go ashore.”
“Guard?” Her tone was tentative. “Surely no one would steal a yacht this size?”
“In a heartbeat,” he said grimly. Seeing her stiffen, he felt the need to reassure her. “Most people are just curious. Once, I came back to find a stranger making a sandwich in the galley.”
She laughed as he’d hoped she would, her tense facial features relaxing into a smile. “If you don’t mind,” he continued, keeping his tone casual, “I’d like to come with you today. I was raised in Miami and have spent many weekends in the Keys. I’d like to see it again.”
“Elaina mentioned that it’s been a couple of years since you lived in the States.”
He nodded. “I moved to Greece to learn more of my father’s business. It’s been a good experience to live close to the rest of my family.”
“I suppose you’ll live there permanently?”
He wondered at the uncertain sound in her voice, then shrugged. “My mother still lives in Miami. It is home.” That wasn’t quite true, but he wouldn’t admit it to her and certainly not to his mother. He had stopped in to visit her before coming on to Sanibel. It had been touching that she’d been so happy to see him. She’d always been so tied up in work and the brilliant social scene of a fashion model that he hadn’t realized she’d miss him so much. Perhaps she hadn’t known either.
After his parents’ divorce, he’d spent his summers in Greece with his father and his half-brother and sister. When their father wasn’t working, they’d sail among the islands or drive to the villa in the country. Living there was familiar and comfortable, but he’d expect
ed some deeper connection from an extended stay. He’d expected it to feel like home. That it didn’t had not disturbed him until he’d returned to Miami and realized he was not as comfortable there as before. Something was missing, and he knew in his gut what it was. It had slipped away in a moment he seldom spoke about.
“I’d better go change,” Kara murmured.
Reaching, he clasped her calf with one hand, feeling her jerk in reaction. He smoothed his palm down the soft, sun-warmed skin, circling one ankle in a tender vise, holding her next to him. “You’re already overdressed.”
“What?” The surprise in her tone was echoed in the sudden tenseness around her mouth.
“For Key West,” he added quickly. Who was he kidding? For him. He tilted his head as he felt the change in tempo as the engines were throttled back. Eduardo was waiting on him to pilot the yacht into the harbor. Again, something was dragging them apart. He should accept the hand that fate was dealing him, but it was easy to disregard the signs with the softness of her skin under his fingertips and the fragrance of her hair drifting between them.
“It’s blazing hot this time of year and it’s common to see women walking around in only a bikini.” He released the grip on her ankle with slow reluctance and stood. “I’m going to change into shorts myself after we dock. Just be sure to bring a shirt for the restaurant and a comfortable pair of shoes. We’ll be doing a lot of walking.”
“Oh, good tips. Thanks.”
Her gaze traveled up his body as he stood over her. The look was so intense that he could feel it as a physical thing. For a moment, he imagined the heat of her palms splayed against his shirt, pulling the material up as she slid her fingers across his ribs. It would feel good to have her against him again. Too good.
Reaching down, he held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. Under his fingertips, he felt the jump of her pulse and was not surprised at the answering leap in his own veins. He had found her on the dance floor as Elaina asked, but once he’d pulled her into his arms it had been all about them. The way she moved against him, her skin almost melting into his, the blaze of awareness in her hazel eyes, the softness of her lips under his for that instant of contact. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. His fingers tightened on hers, and he felt a brief answering curl of her hand against his before she tugged her fingers from his hold.
