Above Temptation

by Karin Kallmaker

  Calmed by the banality of talking about their meal, Kip wasn’t sure she had a right to know. A couple of kisses didn’t mean anything these days. She had no reason to think Tam knew that kisses weren’t casual to Kip, not in the least. And even if she did, why should something so painful to Tam be any of Kip’s business? Did Kip’s not knowing interfere with their investigation? Did not knowing keep Kip from doing the job she had to do? If not, it was none of her business.

  The dishes empty, Kip said, “We should be at the stores when they open at nine, shouldn’t we? Then back here to check out and take a cab to the port?”

  “That seems right,” Tam agreed. She might have been pale, or maybe it was just the lighting. But her air was as professionally distant as Kip’s. “There’s still enough time to get a good night’s sleep.”

  A good night’s sleep, right, Kip thought, once she was in the elevator. It didn’t seem likely to her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Are the expenses of being a fugitive tax deductible?”

  Kip answered in a matching droll tone. “I don’t see why not. They are job-related.” The basic Speedo looked just dandy on Tam. Scrumptious even. But Tam looked as if she’d rather be seen in a potato sack. “You can stick with the board shorts and a tank top. Totally acceptable women’s pool gear these days.”

  Tam frowned into the full-length mirror. “I think I will. This looked good on you but me… It’s so tight.”

  “You obviously didn’t have gym class in a public school in the U.S.”

  “You’re right. I went to a boarding school in Connecticut, and swimming was not on the list of activities.” Tam disappeared into the dressing room again.

  Kip leaned on the wall next to the door, glad they were alone. At this hour on a Monday morning, the department store was nearly deserted. She might never shop on weekends again. “Did you sleep okay? You look really tired.”

  “Remind me not to have Cuban food at midnight.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry it bothered you. I slept like a baby.” She had, too, much to her surprise. As conflicted as she was emotionally, her body seemed not to have a worry in the world. It knew something she didn’t, or it was just besotted and happy to be so. She’d been relaxed until she’d seen Tam in the shorts and a tee they’d bought before leaving Washington. Then her body had been something completely opposite of relaxed, and aside from the worry that she wasn’t worried, the feeling was very…pleasurable.

  The last of their purchases made, they walked back to the hotel, agreeing to meet in the hotel’s business center again in fifteen minutes. Kip put her heavy walking shoes into the suitcase and slipped on the new Keen sandals. They were perfect for the muggy, heavy air outside. It wasn’t as humid as she had expected. Under other circumstances, she would have found sunny Miami a refreshing change from Seattle’s impending winter.

  At the business center, she added her papers to Tam’s in a box the center supplied. Taped and wrapped, Tam labeled it for shipping to Mercedes Houston at her home address. Once the fee for shipping, tracking and insurance was paid, Kip had to admit it was a relief to leave their accumulated evidence behind. All she carried with her was her work log and her laptop.

  After a quick stop at the lobby pay phone, where she faked up a raspy cough for the benefit of Emilio’s voice mail, they could finally leave.

  Having evaded any detection so far, it didn’t seem useful to avoid being seen together any longer. At the port they were planning to pose as a couple. From the fast-moving cab she could see palm trees lining the main boulevard of the port district, and feel a light breeze blowing in from the sea. The broad saw-tooth leaves stirred lazily against the cobalt sky. Impossibly, the air smelled of coconut, if she ignored the underlayer of diesel fuel. Through gaps in the buildings Kip could see cruise ships, mammoth white floating hotels, all with streamers snapping in the rising wind.

  They waited in what seemed to be a short line, not talking much. Kip was amused by several little old ladies reminding each other where they’d put their papers and who had seen them last and asking if someone remembered to bring the sanitizing wipes for the slot machines. Kip decided when she was old and gray she wanted to be the kind of little old lady who turned up for a last-minute cruise, in sensible walking shoes and a hat.

  She realized, too, that she didn’t want to travel alone. A much taller little old lady as a companion would be nice.

  When they finally reached the counter Tam told her rambling tale of woe to the pretty blonde. “We lost the packet with our passports and the marriage license—”

  “Our marriage license!” Kip echoed. She’d never thought much about getting older, but the idea of Tam going through those changes with her was welcome. Far too welcome.

  “We went to Iowa, being from Idaho, starts with an I, it didn’t take long, we’ve been wanting to get married for ages, you know.”

  The clerk, obviously thoroughly trained in customer service, passed over forms. “Just fill these out. You only have fifteen days to report a stolen passport, so you have to do it the moment you get back. It’ll take forever to get replacements if you don’t.”

  “Sure, sure,” Tam said.

  “Our marriage license, too…” Kip bemoaned again as she rapidly filled in the blanks on the affidavit. “I told you we should have booked this ahead of time.”

  “This saved us so much money, sweetie. Otherwise, we were having a honeymoon in Des Moines.”

  Kip gave the clerk her most sincere look. “Des Moines is nice. I like Des Moines. But this is better than Des Moines.”

  The woman laughed. “It sure is. So let’s see what’s available right now on the four-night itineraries.”

  While the agent pecked at her keyboard Kip tried not to look guilty for playing so broadly on the woman’s natural empathy. She hoped the agent didn’t get in trouble for helping them out, even though it was her job to sell them the tickets.

  She did exactly that, too. They walked out of the office ten minutes later with their boarding packets, stamped waiver for lack of passport to show customs and luggage tags for the Blue Sky of Sweden. Boarding began in three hours. First stop, eight thirty tomorrow morning, was Nassau, Commonwealth of the Bahamas.

  The clerk had suggested they spend some of the next few hours at a nearby coffeehouse instead of the bleak embarkation waiting area.

  Crossing the street, Kip said, “I feel like we just used up about ten years’ worth of gay marriage karma.”

  “I thought it was nice that she didn’t even blink. Let’s get some coffee.”

  Tam used the time for one last check of the SFI mainframe. “I was hoping to have another note from Hank, but no such luck. Thankfully, there’s nothing on the business blogs about any of this. If we can grab that application, and find out a few more clues, we could even go public ourselves before we leave Nassau, with our theory of the crime.”

  “I’ll be really happy when that happens,” Kip said.

  Tam gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. “And the weather in Nassau looks wonderful. There’s a little store that sells the world’s best mango sorbet. Interested?”

  Tam showed her a map of the small port town and for an hour Kip let herself feel like a tourist. Maybe even let herself think it was the start of a honeymoon, that it wasn’t the last time she’d ever travel with her boss’s boss’s boss. The arm around her shoulders might have been to accommodate the tiny table, or just to look the part of women in love, but Kip found herself relaxing into it, as welcome as if she had known its comfort for years.

  * * *

  There were no snags of any kind as they made their way up the switchbacks of the boarding ramp. The customs officer had asked the purpose of their travel and waved them on. Kip was grinning as she studied the ship’s map and found their room.

  “I should be shocked that it was all so easy.”

  “There’s low relative risk here, especially leaving.” Tam tried not to sound as relieved as she also felt.
She had known it could be this easy, but she hadn’t been sure that it would be.

  Their mid-ship upper-deck cabin was already cleaned and available. Tam’s first “uh-oh” was upon opening the cabin door.

  Of course the steward had made the bed up for a couple. “We can have the bed changed,” Tam said.

  Kip didn’t sound worried. “It might look suspicious if we did.”

  The space was tight but they quickly stowed their suitcases after removing the essentials to shelves in the tiny bathroom, all tucked safely behind each shelf’s safety bracket.

  Finally, the bustle of settling in over, there was an awkward silence. To Tam, the single bed was seductive. The tiny couch was equally beguiling. She felt somewhat dizzy, and her largely sleepless night, mostly spent ping-ponging between worrying about her company and totally inappropriate fantasies, wasn’t helping with her composure.

  Kip snatched something small and black out of a drawer. “There’s only one thing to do.” She ducked into the bathroom.

  “What?”

  She stuck her head back out the door. “We’re on a cruise ship. Guess.”

  Okay, Tam thought. She had a point. All the worry in the world would not change the fact that until eight thirty tomorrow morning there wasn’t a danged thing she could do about diddly.

  She quickly pulled the new board shorts and a skimpy tank top out of the drawer. When Kip emerged in her swimsuit Tam’s stomach did a full roll of delight. The suit wasn’t a cleavage and butt cheek style, not at all. But it was filled with woman, all woman, a cute, trim woman with strong arms and soft curves. Clearly, they had to get out of this tiny cabin now.

  “Last one there gets thrown in,” Tam said.

  “I’d like to see you try.” Kip took off, already in her sandals.

  “Oh hell,” Tam muttered, realizing she hadn’t a clue where one of hers had ended up.

  Kip had made good use of her lead—enough time to secure two tall, frosty glasses of passion fruit iced tea. “No tossing me in the pool, okay?”

  “Okay. One-day truce.”

  They found deck chairs in a mix of sun and shade and listened to the live band blasting island music across the pool area. When the ship pushed back from the dock, taking on the merest hint of rocking motion, Tam finally relaxed. Fifteen hours of needing to do nothing more than breathe was ahead of them both.

  * * *

  Kip covered Tam’s legs with a towel, not wanting to wake her but also not wanting her to get a sunburn. Maybe it was the mild rocking motion or simply the awareness that they were out of the reach of the world for a little while. Whichever, Tam’s face was utterly relaxed. She was almost smiling in her sleep.

  She thought some exploration was in order. The way the ship moved was soothing and yet exhilarating. The coast of the mainland slipped into the distance until it was just them and hopeful seabirds following in their wake. Her favorite part quickly became the forward deck, in front of the windbreaks. She imagined a lot of people tried to reenact that Titanic scene. It wasn’t on her list of things to do. But the ship’s forward motion through the cool sea air was exhilarating. The buffeting of the wind was almost as good as a sailboat. Her hair was a tangled mess, but she didn’t care. Her head was clear.

  As the deck departure party started to wind down she decided it was time to wake Tam. Tomorrow would likely be a stressful and potentially unhappy day, if Tam’s banking contact decided to resist Tam’s request, or was more deeply involved than they knew. Tam would need a good night’s sleep and much more of a nap might have her sleepless later.

  As for herself, she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep with Tam’s body only inches from hers. But she’d slept well the night before and right now, lungs filled with nothing but ocean air, she felt composed and steady.

  She wasn’t expecting Tam to be gone, though. The towel was still there. Kip turned toward the elevators, thinking perhaps Tam had gone to the cabin, when a hand slipped around her waist.

  “How’s the missus?”

  Kip grinned and leaned into Tam’s grasp. “Surprised you woke up. You were really out.”

  “I was looking for you.” Tam offered her one of two plastic cups filled with ice and something that was amber in the sunlight. “Plain iced tea?”

  “Thank you.” She was thirstier than she had realized. “Did you have a nice sleep?”

  “Yes—and thank you for the cover. I’d have cooked. You look like you’ve been forward.”

  Kip put a hand to her wrecked hair. “It’s really wonderful up there.”

  Tam held out her hand and Kip took it. They explored the forward area again, breathing in the air together, then circled down the ship on the exterior decks, one at a time, peeking into bars, the casino, the gym, even the library. They scanned dinner menu choices and decided on Italian, giving themselves an hour before the reservation to clean up.

  It was so awkward navigating showers and modesty in the small cabin that Kip knew she was blushing, and brightly enough that her skin didn’t hide it. She hoped Tam thought it was the hot shower. At one point, to let Tam pull her suitcase out of the closet, Kip climbed up onto the bed, still only wrapped in a towel.

  “These cabins are cute, and I really like the shelves and how they keep things from sliding off, but the floor space is a little limited.”

  Tam, kneeling next to her suitcase, looked up at Kip. “I can’t say I mind the interior view at all.”

  Well, that wasn’t helping. “You’re dressed already. I’m at a disadvantage.”

  “How about I step out for a few minutes and you finish up?”

  Relieved, Kip agreed. Tam, in new tailored black slacks and white blouse, looked poised and elegant and confident and…everything that Kip wasn’t. The moment the door was closed Kip abandoned the towel, scrambled into her undies and attacked her hair with brush and blow-dryer. She had brought clothes from her stash at the cabin—nice enough but not very elegant. She could have bought something this morning, but when they were possibly only going to be on the ship for one evening, a little black dress hadn’t seemed necessary.

  At least she had a wrap blouse in a vibrant purple that she’d left by accident one weekend. Her jeans would have to do, but they had only been worn a few times and the indigo dye was flattering. She wished she had slinky, strappy slides or her tallest pair of heels, though. Even as she brushed some color onto her cheeks she told herself that she wasn’t going on a date, but that message got lost in the one from the mirror. It said she was dowdy. Uninteresting. And short.

  Tam knocked, then opened the cabin door. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” She abandoned all the paraphernalia that wasn’t helping her ego in the least and busied herself finding her cabin key card. When she turned to look at Tam, she was warmed by the admiration in Tam’s eyes. Maybe, all in all, she didn’t look too bad.

  “That blouse is a crime,” Tam said. She pulled the cabin door all the way open and stepped aside to let Kip out first.

  Kip was feeling better by the minute. Over her shoulder she asked, “In what way?”

  From behind her Tam said, “The front way and the back way.”

  Kip laughed.

  “Sorry, that sounded stupid, didn’t it?”

  “No.” She slowed so they could walk side by side in the wider main corridor. “Thank you. You look so elegant I was worried I was frumpish next to you.”

  “I think it would take you a while to achieve frumpish.”

  “Okay, that’s one of the more unusual compliments I’ve ever received, but I thank you.”

  Tam again reached for her hand as they walked. Kip told herself it was just to maintain their cover as a couple, but when she looked around she saw a thousand people who simply didn’t care about them in the least. She tightened her grip and received an answering squeeze from Tam.

  The restaurant was quiet and largely occupied by couples. Tucked along the starboard side of an upper deck, they had a spectacular view of the darken
ing sky and endless expanse of rolling ocean. As they discussed the menu it wasn’t appropriate to compare Tam to Meena, but what else was new? She couldn’t help it. Some of the differences were subtle. Tam was attentive, but Meena had seemed smothering. Tam showed concern that Kip enjoy her food, even when she was picking red onions out of the salad. Meena would have kept asking. Something about Meena had made her feel like a child being coaxed to let mummy make it better. Tam treated her like a competent woman. After asking if the salad would be okay, and Kip’s assurance that it would be, Tam didn’t ask again. But when they ordered their main course, Tam asked the waiter if Kip’s dish contained red onions. It didn’t and all was well. It was so foolish, her heart, as was the part of her that felt seen and treasured. Foolish and wonderful heart that simply didn’t hear the part of her that knew these feelings couldn’t possibly be allowed to thrive.

  Dessert—a trio of cheeses with a trio of chocolates and fresh berries—had arrived when Tam put a small jeweler’s box with the ship’s logo on the table. Kip’s heart flipped over. No way. Stupid assumption. It wasn’t…

  “What’s this?” Her voice sounded perfectly natural, she thought.

  “A very belated birthday present. I really messed with yours.”

  Fortunately, she had the presence of mind not to blurt out “I had the best damned kiss of my life on my birthday.” Instead she opened the box.

  Twinkling silver earrings set with rainbow stones gleamed at her. “Oh… They’re lovely, thank you.” She hurriedly took the simple gold studs she wore every day out of her ears and replaced them with the new pair.

  “How do they look?”

  “Lovely. I knew you would object to something… Let’s just say they had a genuine stone version and that’s not what you’re wearing.”

  Kip laughed, knew she was blushing and didn’t care. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”