Emotional Waves

by Miller, Maureen A.

  Jill was vaguely aware that the chatter between her mother and Betsy had ceased, or it could be that the blood pumping in her ears drowned them out. Men who looked like this never asked her to dance. Men didn’t ask her to dance−period.

  His hand was extended and she stared at it, remembering the feel of it secured around her waist. With little input from her brain, she reached for it and felt the strength of those fingers wrap around hers. She offered up a swift prayer that her knee would support her when she rose. Her knee wasn’t the issue though−it was her head and the combined effects of a glass of wine and the close proximity of this attractive stranger that made her sway.

  He led her onto the parquet floor as couples fell back into place around them, reducing the size of their world to a two-foot circumference. With his fingers still locked with hers, his free arm slipped down her back, touching bare flesh for one heated moment. She slipped her palm up to his shoulder, and even through the jacket she could feel the strong curve of muscle there.

  There were too many bodies on this floor. Someone needed to pump up the air conditioning.

  “I don’t really know how to dance,” she confessed. The declaration offered her an out if the combination of sore knee, high heels and hot man proved disastrous.

  “Actually,” his mouth was close to her ear so that the deep timbre was exclusively for her, “I’m not very good either.”

  “Right.” Jill smiled at his shoulder. “Grace is not your strong suit.”

  His chuckle tickled her neck.

  “Are you going to tell me your name now?” he asked.

  Warning bells sounded off. Trust was a commodity she was very frugal with. Strangers, even if they were handsome−were still strangers.

  “Alright,” he continued as she was busy thinking, “I owe you an apology and I owe you a pair of sunglasses.”

  “All you owe me is an explanation.”

  “I told you−”

  “Yes, that you were jogging.”

  For a moment there was silence filled with the solo of a violin player. Jill was aware of the hand on the small of her back, and the sporadic brush of her thigh against his, which was causing a buzzing in her ears.

  “I was not watching where I was going. I was reckless.” He hesitated and she felt his fingers constrict. “And,” he added with husky sincerity, “the thought of what I could have done to you is something that is going to haunt me for a long time.”

  The gravity of his tone brought on a bout of vertigo. Jill leaned in closer for stability and the palm against her back drew her in to offer that. For a moment they drifted in silence, Jill conscious of every brush of his suit against her skin.

  “This ship is the size of a small country. How did you find me?”

  “Chance. Well−chance, and a little bit of strolling the lounges.” He leaned back so that she could see his grin. “This being my fourth.”

  Oh yeah, he was attractive and charming−a combination that made her edgy. “You must be here with someone, or was that your date you were looking for this afternoon?”

  The next song started. It was something slow she did not recognize and she felt tension in the shoulder that her hand rested on. “No, I’m not here with someone. My being here was a last minute decision.”

  His words sounded introspective. A man on a cruise. Alone. Her defenses were mounting to the point she was ready to excuse herself.

  “Look,” he began. “I’m not the freak you must think I am. What happened this afternoon…it was an accident, and one that I am very sorry about.” He drew back and added. “And my name is Brent. Brent Coales.”

  “Jill.” She surrendered.

  “Jill,” he repeated with a grin. “Can we start over?”

  Despite her internal alarm system, she was beginning to relax. “I wasn’t aware we had started.”

  Brent chuckled, but the sound was swallowed by the loud brass and percussion of an upbeat jive that just kicked in. He searched the rollicking dancers and his glance landed on the bank of doors that exited the ballroom. “Do you want to take a walk?”

  The fact that Brent’s eyes were scanning the crowd set her on edge. She released his shoulder and stepped back, her elbow jabbing someone else’s arm. “You look like you’re in a rush again. Maybe some other time.”

  She started to make her way back towards her mother when his voice arrested her.

  “I’m sorry, Jill. Please, you are right.”

  Jill turned around, feeling awkward standing still in the midst of gyrating figures in the throes of laughter. She looked at the man in the black suit, his neckline open and tieless, making it look as if he had been in a rush to dress. His bewitching eyes no longer roamed the room. They were locked on hers and his lips were set in a grim line as if awaiting sentencing. His distracted tendencies were easier to deal with than being under this concentrated spotlight.

  “Let’s take a walk,” she couldn’t believe the words came from her lips. Maybe he didn’t hear her. Maybe the music took her words and whisked them away, but she sealed her fate by adding, “Then you can tell me what I’m right about.”

  ***

  This was insane.

  Earlier, Brent had rushed to put on something appropriate to mingle in the dinner crowd, and immediately began to stake out the first lounge, looking for Luis either eating or at the bar−more likely the latter. As best he knew, Luis was not yet aware that Brent was on the ship. When Brent first saw the unsavory little troll on the Promenade deck, the man was turning to go inside and Brent was at least two hundred yards behind him. As Luis disappeared into the bowels of the ship, Brent broke into a full out sprint to catch up. He would have caught him too if not for the first child of the day to cross his path. It was the bright orange water wings on the little girl that revealed her at the last possible second. Brent barely spun on one leg, feeling a hamstring contract in protest. He blessedly missed the little girl, but never saw the woman.

  “At least we can hear now.” Jill turned around once they exited the lounge and brought him from his reverie.

  Brent looked up the open atrium at the glass and chrome balustrades that exposed layers of passenger decks. Piped-in music with a Caribbean flare sounded around them. He scanned the lobby for any sign of Luis and then saw Jill standing with her hand on her hip giving him an, are you kidding me look. He nearly laughed at her expression.

  “I’m sorry,” he managed a contrite grin.

  What was he even doing out here with her? He had intended to explore the dining rooms, knowing that Luis was too arrogant and stupid to stay isolated. But when Brent caught sight of Jill sitting on the edge of the dance floor in her shiny black dress with the killer heels, he was taken aback by not only her looks, but the expression on her face as she stared down at her crossed knees and then up at the dance floor. She didn’t look bored. She didn’t look sad. She looked misplaced. And the sight of her tempted him. She was like a lighthouse that was supposed to warn him away, and yet he kept right on course for the jagged rocks.

  “Sorry for what?” she asked. “For nearly sending me on a swan dive into the Gulf of Mexico? Or for inviting me for a ‘walk’ when your attention is obviously on something else.”

  What he found so intriguing was that she had every right to be a bitch to him for his complete lack of focus, and yet her golden eyebrow quirked as if the situation was comical.

  “I’m sorry for not being a better dancer,” he managed.

  He could see her battle against it, but her lips curled up into a smile. “I’ll accept that apology. We’ll work on the others.” She walked up to the railing and glanced down. “So, who are you looking for?”

  Brent shook his head. He had to learn to manage his poker face better. But hell, he wasn’t a professional tracker or anything. He designed boats for a living.

  “Why do you insist I’m looking for someone?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, the fact that you are constantly searching past me maybe?” Jill glanced
over her shoulder and then back to him and he swallowed down the effect of her azure eyes.

  “You know,” she continued. “It really gives a woman a complex.”

  He enjoyed her teasing. He enjoyed her personality. Why couldn’t he have met this woman somewhere else? Somewhere innocent? There was no time for a distraction here. He had to face facts. There would be no sense in leading her on. She was a beautiful woman, and if she was alone, she could easily find a man that would be attracted to her−a thought that caused an inexplicable bout of jealousy.

  Brent glanced at his watch.

  “The shopping arcade is still open. Let’s go look for your sunglasses.”

  Her smile fell. “Oh,” she fidgeted as her hands slipped from the railing to clasp each other. “That’s not necessary. Look, I better get back. My mother is probably wondering−” she didn’t even bother to finish the sentence, but nodded and started to walk away.

  “Jill−”

  There was a pause in her step, but she didn’t turn around.

  “Please,” he implored.

  Please what? He was making a plea and he was not even sure what for. Please don’t go. Please don’t think that this is the man I am. Please, let me touch you again because your body felt perfect against mine on the dance floor.

  “I want to make this afternoon up to you. I was an idiot. Please, let’s just take a walk.”

  He held his hand out hoping it would be a gesture she could not refuse. She looked at it and then her eyes lifted to his and there was a hypnotizing whirl of distrust, optimism and maybe even some attraction in those soulful pools, but she blinked and left him wavering. Finally, she smiled.

  “I’ll be honest,” she admitted, “I can’t last a minute outside without sunglasses.”

  Looking at the light cerulean irises, he had no doubt they were sensitive. She did not take his hand, but she moved forward slowly, waiting for him to fall in step beside her.

  ***

  All the warning signs in her mind pointed towards the closest exit, but there was something about Brent Coales that intrigued her. He was preoccupied enough to not come across as intimidating. For the moment she could tell she commanded his attention as she located a kiosk full of sunglasses and tried on the first pair. They were ridiculously lavish, with fake diamonds forming a star on each side of the russet plastic frames. In the mirror, the lenses covered half her face, making her look like a fly under a telescope.

  “What do you think?” She spun about to offer Brent a better view.

  “I think you look like a Chihuahua.”

  Jill turned to peer at her reflection again. Chihuahua indeed. She reached for a pair of ridiculous Top Gun-wannabe glasses and handed them to him. He slipped the wire frames over his ears, the dark wisps of hair pushed into disarray by the action. She was dismayed to lose sight of his eyes behind the reflective lenses and instead saw her own comical Chihuahua face and laughed.

  “That bad?” he stepped up to the small mirror to have a look.

  He was tall enough that he had to bend his legs to reach eye-level on the mirror. The reflective lenses, short dark hair, and the black suit combined to make him look like a member of the Secret Service. There was a dangerous and attractive element to him and again she wondered why he would spend time with someone like her. But he wasn’t spending time with her because he was attracted to her. He was here in pity−to make amends for the mishap this afternoon.

  Oh well−whatever the reason, he was still nice to look at.

  So absorbed with Brent, feeling the liberty to watch him behind the protection of her dark glasses, Jill immediately noticed when his posture stiffened. Brent was still focused on the mirror, but the body language told her that he was not looking at himself. When his head angled to the right it confirmed her suspicions. She turned to follow the path of the reflection and saw a short man ambling across the carpet near the activities desk. He wore beige dress slacks, and a pink cotton long-sleeved shirt. His black hair was slicked with gel and the strobe lights of the atrium cast purple and pink stripes on that crown. The man’s short legs pumped, as his head was up and alert, searching the throng that just emerged from the bank of elevators.

  There was no doubt in her mind that Brent was watching this man in the mirror. There was no one else on that side of the lobby and his head was moving in tandem with the little man’s progress.

  Brent yanked the sunglasses off and jabbed them back into the rack and cast her an edgy glance. By now the black gel-capped man had disappeared into one of the elevators, and soon he could be seen inside a glass chamber climbing up the wall of the atrium.

  “I know you’re not going to believe this,” Brent almost sounded dejected, but he was too alert to the ascent of that elevator to even notice her nod, “but I just remembered−”

  “That you have somewhere you need to be.” Jill filled in. “Go, he’s getting away.”

  Those words yanked Brent’s head down and she witnessed the intensity of his golden eyes first hand. It unsettled her, but she kept her chin held high. This guy was way out of her league anyway. She never expected him to extend more attention than was politely necessary, given the situation.

  “Who’s getting away?” He asked, but she thought it was a bad performance.

  “Go on,” she smiled. “Maybe I’ll run into you again.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words seemed earnest.

  And then to her surprise he gripped her bare arms and she tried to ignore how warm and pleasant the sensation was. “I really would have enjoyed getting to know you better, Jill, but the truth is that I’m on this cruise to conduct business. As much as I’m wishing otherwise at the moment, there really is something I have to address.”

  Jill swallowed before attempting to speak.

  “I understand, Mr. Coales. You don’t have to explain.” She was ready to give herself a round of applause for keeping her voice so steady. His eyes and hands were making her quiver. Then he grinned−a gesture to seal her fate. She felt his glance scope her face and he nodded.

  “Keep those.”

  He turned around and offered up his cabin number to the teller. The buzzing in her ears prohibited Jill from catching the number, as she absently reached up, not even realizing she still had the ridiculous glasses on.

  “Goodbye, Jill.” Brent gave a brief nod and moved towards the bank of elevators, his head inclined, watching the rise of the compartment.

  Searching. Searching. But never looking in front of him as he bumped into a cabin steward.

  Chapter Two

  “Who was that?” Catherine pounced the second Jill unlocked the door.

  “Whoah,” Jill staggered at the sight of her mother in her cabin. “I know we agreed to exchange keys, but gosh Mom, I thought you would still be out.”

  Jill glanced at her watch. It was only ten thirty. It felt so much later.

  “It’s our first night. I’m exhausted. Betsy was exhausted. The cruise is young,” Catherine rose from the chair and crossed her arms over the yellow dress. “And you are the one who should still be out, especially after leaving the dance floor with a guy like that.”

  Well, heck, the way she emphasized the word, her mother might as well have screamed out, what would a man who is that attractive be doing with you?

  “It was just some guy I−” she hesitated, “−ran into earlier. He had another date anyway.”

  “What! The man dances with you and he has another date waiting for him?” Catherine shook her head and rubbed a hand over her face, smearing some of the silver eye shadow from her eyebrow up onto her forehead. For a moment Jill was reminded of the tin man from the Wizard of Oz.

  “Jill,” Catherine gave her a level stare, “we need to find someone good for you.”

  “99% of the population is looking for someone who is good for them, Mom. 50% are successful.”

  Jill set her purse down on the end table. They had splurged on separate cabins to allow each other space, but the cabins
they afforded only contained a double bed, a sitting area and a bathroom−all decorated in a teal nautical theme. There was no balcony to walk out onto as existed on some of the upper decks. Jill thought it would have been nice to stand on the balcony, watching the moon reflect on the ocean and not worry about someone crashing into you from behind.

  On the bed beside her sat a white towel twisted and knotted into the shape of a rabbit with floppy ears. It was apparently a knack the staff had for creating animals out of towels, and right now this floppy-eared creature looked up at her as if to say, Well, don’t look at me.

  “I want to have a look around Nassau tomorrow,” Jill announced, pulling off a shoe with the toe of her opposite foot. “Did you make plans with Betsy?”

  Her mother looked petulant as she rose and sat next to Jill on the corner of her bed. “I’m here with you. I told Betsy we would meet her and George on the island tomorrow for lunch. Betsy and I do want to get some shopping in, but I figured you’d be up for that as well…unless tall, dark and handsome cancelled his date and has invited you out for a romp.” The silver stream of makeup arched in inquiry.

  “I’ll go in with you, but when it comes to the shopping part, why don’t you guys go on ahead? I want to camp out somewhere with my laptop and a pina colada and get some work done.”

  “Jill Ann Perry, we discussed this. You are on vacation.”

  “I just have some digital images that need altering so I can submit them to ST.”

  Sports Today didn’t care that she was on vacation. The magazine would run with or without last week’s playoff pictures from the Grouper’s game. If ST didn’t get the pictures, she didn’t get paid. It was pretty simple.

  “Mom, that will be relaxing for me. Plus, I really want to take some photos for myself. Maybe I can sell a few on the side.”

  “So basically you want to work,” Catherine sighed. “We’ll talk more about it in the morning. I’m going back to my cabin. Get some rest, Jill.”

  “You too, Mom.” Jill rose and hugged her mother before seeing her to the door.