by Deb Julienne
He was mildly surprised when Diana finally ordered her breakfast then proceeded to send it back twice before she was satisfied.
She was kind about it, but watching her in action gave him pause.
As he continued to focus on the woman that intrigued him so much, he realized she was something of a train wreck, and he couldn’t look away.
J.J. followed Diana as she picked Manda up outside her room, then to the spa, asking one of the specialists about the various treatments while listening to the conversation between Diana and Manda.
Diana’s friend had bailed, and so had Manda’s. The two decided to make the best of it. And while Diana gave the appearance of being smart, strong, and a bit of a power diva, it felt like a mask she hid behind. Whereas Manda was exactly as she appeared—bashful, quiet, and pleasant to be around.
When the girls finished their spa treatments, they giggled their way to the wardrobe room like a couple of silly teenagers. They were downright adorable. Where had they been when he was in college?
He was even more bewildered as he continued tailing Diana during the day. She kept the woman at the excursions desk busy, asking a hundred and one questions, booking excursions, then ultimately canceling them.
He’d never have pegged her for high maintenance, but by all appearances she was.
Then just when he was ready to cancel his date for the ball, she decided to observe the formal high tea and gave her compliments to the chef.
If he continued to scratch his head over her, he’d no doubt end up with a bald spot on top by the end of the day.
She was up to something, but what?
He had no intention of meeting up with her until the ball. He wanted to see the reaction on Diana’s face when he showed up dressed as the Phantom. Was Manda right? Did she have a thing for the masked man? Curiosity won out, and he had to find out what it was about the character that caused the appeal.
J.J. had plans of his own. Romantic fantasies he wanted to share with the woman who had stolen his breath away the second he first spied her. Except now he was flummoxed.
Was this why she wasn’t Hunter’s type? Was Diana a prima donna?
Finally, he had to steal away from the woman so he could put his own costume together. He went back to his room and keenly watched the Phantom movie so he might pull off the mannerisms and characteristics to give Diana what she wanted. If only he’d had more time to pump Manda for details.
That’s when he got the idea of asking Hunter. Surely he’d give him an idea of how to appeal to Diana. But when he went to Hunter’s room, he was nowhere to be found.
J.J. covered every inch of the ship and couldn’t track his friend anywhere, so he went back to his room and did a Google search for Diana Clay. He found nothing. It was as if she didn’t exist.
Fingers of anxiety crept up his spine. It was time to do some serious searching. He made his way to the purser’s desk with his story down. He was interested in asking a particular woman out and didn’t know her last name. Yes, it was a lie, but he had to start somewhere. He would appeal to the romantic side of the purser and hope to locate the information.
As he rounded the corner to the desk, he spied Diana on the ship-to-shore phone.
A scowl marred her beautiful face. Her hand clutched the receiver tightly. She swore under her breath. “Fine. Anything else?” Sarcasm dripped from her words as Diana tapped her foot impatiently.
He half expected her to kick the desk.
Whoever was on the other end of the line had set her off, big time. Was it the mysterious friend who had bailed on her or someone else?
He turned away, feeling like a louse for eavesdropping; but he needed information about the elusive Diana Clay, especially since he was no closer to coming to a conclusion about the woman.
When he turned back, she casually swiped a finger under her eyes and sniffed, blinking as she looked skyward.
Who was hurting her? What had they said or done to cause such a reaction?
His ire was up, wanting to put a smile back on her face. What could he possibly do to fix things and make her feel better? He didn’t know squat about the woman.
What tripped J.J. up was that his opinion of Diana changed moment-by-moment. He disliked the diva he saw in action that morning, but now all he wanted to do was protect her.
By the time she hung up and rushed to the elevator, presumably to her room, J.J. decided to put every effort into his character and give Diana a magical night.
He took a long, hot shower using his time in the steamy spray to get psyched up for the evening. J.J. had managed to find a perfect jet black cutaway suit, with a burgundy satin and flocked vest. The jacket itself was trimmed with black velvet lapels. J.J. hung it in the steamy bathroom then brushed it meticulously.
Needing a moment of quiet contemplation, he wrapped a towel around his waist then went out on the balcony to listen to the waves, taking the time to just be in the moment.
The spell was broken the instant he spied his watch. It was time to meet Hunter and the band in the auditorium for practice. Dinner was being catered so the band would have all the time they needed for last minute practice.
When rehearsal was over, both J.J. and Hunter raced from the auditorium to change for the ball.
As J.J. stood before the mirror in his room, he fastened the cape in place before adding the partial face mask. Even he had to admit he looked terrific.
Before he left his room, he sprayed a breath freshener into his mouth and tucked a couple foil packets into his pockets for later.
He had one last stop to make at the florist. The Phantom of the Opera couldn’t meet his ideal woman without a fresh, ruby red, long stem rose.
Chapter Eight
Diana Tolliver swirled her drink, shaking her head as she muttered, "I must have been out of my mind to let Viv handle the logistics for this cruise. Who the hell wants to dance with a six-foot-tall woman?”
Crystal wine glass in hand, her ginger ale watered down from too much ice and not enough drinking, she set the glass on the tray of a passing waiter in a Hawaiian Fire Dancer outfit.
She scanned the room of half naked people.
If Viv were here, she’d be dressed as the Queen of Tarts. Oh, how Diana wished Viv was here. She missed her. The entire trip would have been a kick in the pants if her friend hadn’t tossed her aside for a guy.
She was surrounded by couples dancing and having the time of their lives.
Diana was more than peeved. This was their job. Why Viv thought it was okay to blow off a job for the sake of a man left her mulling over several facts. Was Viv taking advantage of their relationship? Diana wanted the job of V.P. of Marketing, and she planned to take Viv with her if she got the job, but Diana needed to be able to count on her right-hand girl, and right now she wasn’t sure she could. They’d have to have a long talk when they finally got together again.
Enough of the BS about Viv. Tonight was about her, and Manda promised her a date.
The grand ballroom was smothered in red and pink hearts. A short man dressed as Cupid, his body dusted with a layer of gold, went around shooting couples on the dance floor with his bow and arrow. It was cheesy, but it was also pretty darn funny as people dodged the arrows.
The only people she recognized on the crowded dance floor were Manda and Hunter, and it was easy to see Cinderella and Prince Charming were enjoying the night. They’d been glued to one another’s side since they walked in together this evening.
“When I get a hold of Viv, I'm going to strangle her for convincing me to let her handle all the logistics for this trip. What the hell was she thinking?”
The people on either side of her whirled past, presumably searching the crowd for their dates or friends.
Near the entryway to the monolithic room, a movement caught Diana's eye. Unsure, yet curious, she turned her head. Immediately her eyes were glued to the dashing newcomer.
Taller than all the other men in the room her eyes naturally z
oomed in on him.
Dear God, it was him. The Phantom of the Opera just entered the room and was searching the crowd. His costume was magnificent. He had the perfect mask covering three-quarters of his face. Long, jet-black hair pulled back and tied with a strand of black leather, the scruff on his face only a bit more than a five o’clock shadow. He looked sinfully decadent. His dark chocolate eyes glittered, and when he smiled, his pearly white teeth showed behind the dreamy scintillating grin he flashed her.
In the background, the band finished playing their rendition of “Just One Look.” Appropriately so, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. With no control over her body whatsoever, Diana glided through the crowd as if floating on a weightless cloud, drawn toward the gorgeous hero of her childhood dreams.
To her, the Phantom was part escape, part fantasy. The idea of a man, masked and dashing, carrying her away is what saw her through her teenage years. She dreamed of the Phantom rescuing her and taking her away from her father. Away from his control. Away from all his expectations.
When they finally stood toe-to-toe, he handed her a single perfect red rose.
She accepted it and brought it to her nose, the scent and the gesture overwhelmed her as the musicians moved into a slower song. At precisely the same moment, they reached for one another, tugging their bodies together until their bodies touched.
They began to sway to the music, each hypnotized by the other.
Diana was convinced she had to be dreaming as she stood in his arms, dancing with her favorite character. Gerard Butler was gorgeous, but this guy took her breath away.
She made a mental note to thank Manda. Even Viv couldn’t have pulled this one off. She prayed no one broke the magical spell hovering over them.
Dark eyes held her captive. This was one prison she'd gladly stay in as long as the man continued to stare at her with such passion. Afraid to blink for fear he'd vanish, her eyes welled from the strain.
The Phantom smiled and let out a chuckle. The warmth of his breath on her cheek made her dizzy.
Her skin tingled where his hand met her back as if the material from her costume disappeared at the merest touch. Where their hands clasped together, she wished a lightning bolt would come through the ceiling of the ballroom, forever fusing them together.
The bronzed icon who held her sent his electrified pulse charging from him to her. Please don't let this be a dream. Let him be real and not just my imagination.
The snowy white mask attached to his face was intriguing and set off his complexion making him appear even darker. If his hair weren’t tied back, it would reach well past his shoulders. Facial hair set off his angular jaw, trimmed in a narrow line, meeting at his beard.
Diana’s gaze was drawn to his full lips willing him to lean down and kiss her. She knew if he did, her life would forever be changed. It wouldn't just be a kiss—it would be magical.
Before she knew what happened, Phantom danced her out on the balcony. Diana was grateful for the cool evening breeze off the ocean which was almost as good as a spring shower, considering where her thoughts were. At least now she'd stop perspiring.
By the time the song ended, they had long since stopped dancing, but rather gently swayed, eyes locked. When he lowered his head, she tipped hers up. Her eyes closed, and she gave in to her fondest wishes.
His warm lips worshiped her mouth, his tongue inviting further exploration. If they had been dancing before this, their tongues were doing one hell of a tango now.
When the kiss ended, she stood still, convinced her rubber legs were going to give way at any moment.
Never in her life had any man elicited such an erotic reaction.
Her Phantom reached into the waist of his skin-tight pants at the same time Diana reached for her own waistline. Together each brought up their room key cards.
Diana thought she'd die when he smiled at her. Perfect pearly white teeth gleamed back at her.
Their minds were in sync.
Diana had the honeymoon suite, the largest suite on the ship. “Mine's bigger.”
“You know, that comment might intimidate most men, but I’m confident, and I have to say it—prove it.”
“Get ready to eat your heart out.” Diana ran toward the elevator arm extended, ready to press the elevator call button.
She let out a squeal as her Phantom chased after her with his cape fluttering behind him.
Chapter Nine
J.J. chased his goddess into the open elevator.
They collapsed against the back wall, gasping for air. Once in the elevator, J.J. couldn't contain his ardor, drawing Diana back into his arms for another kiss. A kiss that lasted from the time the doors closed until they opened on her floor. He let her lead him to the room that would take them to heaven.
Tucking his keycard into his vest pocket, he then took Diana’s noting the S before the number. He said not a word as he curled her arm around his forearm, unwilling to let go should she disappear.
Key in hand, he slid the card through the reader, entering first to turn on the light. He then dimmed the lights searching for the right mood lighting. He handed her the card and watched her glide across the floor, tossing the card on the bar, then carefully set the rose on her dresser. She moved to the French doors leading to the balcony and pushed them open to let the fresh sea breeze into the room.
He smiled. It was as if his goddess read his mind.
She turned around and leaned against the opened door in a seductive stance. She stared at J.J. for several beats of his heart then casually strolled back into his outstretched arms.
Diana toyed with the ascot, her hands shaking as she untied it.
He captured her hands and kissed her palms one at a time. “I apologize, I suppose I should ask your name, but you took my breath away when I walked into that room. I was all prepared to have a terrible time, until I laid eyes on you, that is.” The woman before him was neither the high maintenance woman nor the bashful girl. He pulled her close to his chest, wanting to feel her warmth.
When she pulled away to look up into his eyes, she smiled a smile he'd never seen on a woman before. It wasn't quite loving, and it wasn't lust, but he couldn't put a label on it. What surprised him more was that she didn’t seem to recognize him. And something about the entire concept of a spontaneous evening alone elicited even more delectable and romantic ideas.
Diana’s smile robbed him of the ability to swallow. “I know, I thought the same thing. I had no idea what to expect until I got there. Imagine how embarrassing it was to walk in the room. Sheesh, I felt overdressed. Have you ever seen so much skin in your life?” She continued to talk, speaking in rapid sentences to cover her nervousness. Her hand practically vibrated against him.
When he glanced down, he saw her erect nipples pressing against the thin material of her gown, which immediately solicited a reaction his pants couldn't afford to spare.
“And your name is?”
“Diana. And yours?”
He took her response as a sign of playing the part. “Ah, I see. I am the Phantom, naturally. Sing for me.” He proceeded to execute the perfect bow, cape in each hand, trying to pull off suave and lethal at the same time.
A bit disappointed that she would only tell him what he already knew, that she was Diana the Huntress. That much was evident. He wanted her to volunteer more. He’d play along and see just how far she was prepared to take it.
“Yes, it’s probably is better to keep this discreet.” She leaned against the bar in a practiced stance of control.
What did she mean by that? “Discreet?”
“As in no ties.”
It took every ounce of effort to maintain a smile. “Ah, I see.”
The goddess surprised him when she reached up and untied his cape, tossing it over the white leather high-backed chair. She helped him remove his jacket then slowly unbuttoned and relieved him of his vest tossing it over his other things.
He thought his pants would burst.
&n
bsp; She then stopped before him and began to unbutton his balloon sleeved shirt, he had to take her by the shoulders and gently push her away. She chewed on her bottom lip as though she'd done something wrong.
How could he tell her that he was about to explode there on the spot? No, he wanted this night to last, to memorize every second as if it were his last night on the planet.
“Not to worry my tempting huntress, we'll get to that. Let’s not rush.”
A smile crept back on her face, and he knew he’d been forgiven.
He made his way out onto the balcony. Though the room had a cozy effect along with the dimmed lighting, it was like an aphrodisiac, and J.J. didn’t need anything else to stir his blood. He leaned one arm on the rail and breathed in the fresh ocean air, commanding his body back into control. He'd never come so close to embarrassing himself like that before. Particularly with a woman he didn't know.
As sinful as it felt, he refused to deny either of them of a night they obviously wanted together.
He turned around and spotted his goddess putting down the receiver of the phone. Entering the room their eyes met.
“I just called down for room service. I hope you don't mind, but suddenly, I'm famished.”
“I could use a bite myself. I had to work late and didn't stop for dinner before I went to the party.”
Seating themselves on the on the couch, they commiserated about their mutual shocked reactions to so many sexy costumes at the ball. “If I didn’t know better I’d swear it was the Exotic Erotic Ball we walked into instead of a costume ball.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
J.J. found his cell phone and piped in some music for them to dance to. He danced her out onto the balcony where they continued to stare, mesmerized by the moment.
