Ah. The strap of her purse had gotten caught, and she was trying to pull it free. She was so intent on her efforts she didn’t even notice him. Jason leaned in to take a closer look at the problem. “Why don’t you—”
The strap broke at the buckle. Her arm jerked back, and her elbow slammed into his nose with so much force he saw stars. “Ow!”
“You again!” she cried. “Oh no. I’m so, so sorry.”
He straightened. A mistake, because now he added dizziness to his misery. Blood spurted down over his mouth and chin to drip all over his cashmere sweater. He tilted his head back and held a hand over his nose. “Why didn’t you just unlock the doors?” he muttered.
“I tried! The lock isn’t aligned right because of the leather jamming the mechanism, and—”
“Tissue. Do you have a tissue?”
She rifled through her purse where it dangled between the steel and glass. “I have a napkin, but—”
“Give it to me,” he ordered.
“—it’s used.” She handed him the napkin, complete with a wadded-up piece of chewed gum at the center. “There’s a men’s room right over there.” She gestured in the general direction across the hall.
He nodded, held the napkin to his nose and walked away. No matter how pretty she might be, the woman was a walking disaster. Coming here had been a colossal mistake.
“Add the cost of your medical deductible to the dry cleaning bill,” she called after him.
He waved a hand in the air in a noncommittal gesture, just to let the holy terror know he’d heard what she’d said. Then he headed for the safety of the men’s room, his nose throbbing and his favorite sweater ruined.
2. Ancient Mayan Ruins and Iguanas…
Tulum means “wall, trench or fence” in Mayan. The ancient city of Tulum, built atop coastal cliffs of the Yucatan Peninsula, provides a breathtaking vista—majestic temple ruins against a backdrop of aquamarine ocean, pristine beaches and lush vegetation. The archaeological site goes back as far as 564 AD and is reported to have been one of the most important centers of Mayan culture and commerce. The Mayan people certainly knew a prime piece of real estate when they saw one.
Marin tipped the airport shuttle driver, took her suitcase and rolled it toward Houston’s port terminal. Her jaw dropped. Emerald Princess dominated her view. Impressive. None of what she’d read on the Internet could have prepared her for the sheer immensity of the vessel before her.
Palm trees lined the boulevard, parking lot and sidewalk leading to the terminal, and the warm, sunny day couldn’t have been more perfect. She headed for the terminal ahead, admiring its arched metal roofs, huge glass windows and colorful turquoise and white paint that beckoned her to exotic destinations.
She pulled out her phone and checked her e-mail, looking for anything from Jody. Her assistant manager had finally convinced her that her studio wouldn’t fall apart just because she took a week off. No message, meaning no problems. Sighing happily, Marin slid her phone back into her bag and made her way through the large glass door to take her place in line. She gazed around at the multicultural blend of passengers and listened to the heady mix of languages and accents being spoken.
Up ahead, she caught a glimpse of a tall man with dark wavy hair and broad shoulders, and her heart skipped a beat. Yet another tall, dark-haired man to remind her of the handsome stranger she’d encountered at the coffee shop so many weeks ago.
She’d doused the poor guy with her latte and broken his nose in the span of a single day. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough, yet she couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind. Silly, really. The chances of running into him again were next to nil.
Once she had her key card, excitement thrummed through her. She hadn’t been out of the country since the college semester she’d studied abroad in Paris, and she’d never been anywhere tropical. Marin stepped onto an escalator, then walked through a series of enclosed ramps, until finally, she was on board.
The interior of the ship could only be described as luxurious—plush with thick, colorful carpets in warm tones, gleaming glass windows and doors and polished wood and brass banisters along the broad staircases. She crowded into an elevator and hit the button to the twelfth deck.
Marin located her side of the ship and started down the corridor toward her stateroom.
Some of the staterooms had one blue and one white balloon fastened over the clear plastic mailboxes mounted to the wall. An elderly couple disappeared into one of them. Curious, Marin peeked at their door as she passed. She found a colorful poster affixed to the front, wishing the couple a happy fiftieth anniversary.
Aww! So sweet. Fifty years, wow. Would she ever marry? Not if her present social life was any indication. How wonderful would it be to share this cruise with someone special? She passed another door with balloons, this one wishing the guest a happy birthday.
No man in her life, but dammit, the birthdays kept on coming. She’d turn twenty-nine in May. Hopefully, by the time she reached thirty, she’d be in a position to go on another cruise, and she’d insist that Anne join her. After all, she wouldn’t be on this ship right now if it hadn’t been for her best friend.
She loved Anne like a sister, but somehow, the notion of spending her thirtieth with a girlfriend, the two of them still single, kind of sucked. No. It really sucked. Sighing, she slid her key card into her stateroom door and entered.
“Oh, wow.” Her eyes went wide. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket, and a gorgeous wire basket filled with a variety of fresh fruit had been placed atop a small bar area in the corner of the room. Princess Cruises really knew how to roll out the welcome mat.
She passed the closet area and dropped her backpack on the queen bed. The room was lovely, but it was the private balcony that drew her. She couldn’t wait to relax, catch some sun, maybe read a book or just watch the ocean out there.
Grabbing a handful of fresh strawberries in passing, she slid the patio door open and stepped outside. Marin leaned over the railing and watched the hustle and bustle going on below her. She took a bite of strawberry, and a juicy burst of sweetness filled her senses.
Sounds from the balcony next to hers caught her attention—a deck chair scraping against the floor, a contented male sigh. Who might her neighbors be? Perhaps a couple enjoying a romantic getaway, or a honeymoon.
Wistful thoughts filled her, and she tried to picture herself with one of the two men who’d still been present when she’d showed up late for the pre-cruise get-together—late enough to miss the icebreaker. Nope. There hadn’t been a single spark on her part, though they were both nice enough.
Speaking of her cruise buddies, the SLS folks were meeting at the International Café at five, around the time the ship would be leaving port. Marin moved back into her room and checked the time on her phone. She had enough time to unpack and get settled before she had to leave.
Once her things were stowed, Marin grabbed her purse and headed to the piazza, located at the center of the ship, for her meeting. Her jaw dropped again once she reached the atrium. A gorgeous stained glass dome cast a warm glow over the three levels making up the atrium. A variety of shops took up the sixth and seventh floors, and the Italian-style piazza with its marble mosaics, cobblestones and café was located two decks below on deck number five.
She spotted Aidan Moline and his girlfriend Kelly, the other SLS associate, seated on a grouping of patio furniture at the center of the piazza, along with a few of the other cruise winners. Marin took one of the curved marble staircases down to the courtyard and joined the group.
“Marin.” Aidan rose from his place and handed her an envelope. “Here’s a printout of our itinerary of events for the week. You should find an envelope on the desk in your room with the tickets for our excursions.” He gestured to the three women and one man already seated in the chairs clustered around the glass-topped table. “You’ve already met Denise, Kelly, Carrie and Michael. We’re waiting for Jason Doherty and M
ax Halvorson, and then we’ll go over everything for Monday night’s formal dinner and Tuesday’s excursion. Have a seat.”
“Hey, everybody,” she said. “Good to see all of you again.” The delicious smells of rich coffee and savory food coming from the International Café made Marin’s mouth water. “While we’re waiting, I’m just going to go get a coffee. Does anybody want anything?” They all pointed to their beverages on the table. “Right. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“We’ll save your place,” Denise said, patting the chair beside her.
Marin wove her way through the crowded piazza to stand in the long line at the bar of the International Café. As she waited, she studied the menu posted on the wall behind the black granite counter. “Salted caramel lattes,” she read aloud with a happy sigh.
“I do hope you don’t plan to dump this one all over me,” a deep masculine voice said from directly behind her.
Marin’s lungs seized, and she whirled around. “You!” She looked up into his dark eyes, and her mouth went completely dry. “What are you doing here?” Oh, smooth.
“Same as you,” he said. “Getting coffee.”
She studied his nose, which had healed nicely. “You never sent me the bill for your dry cleaning, or—”
“I never intended to.”
“You didn’t?” Lord, he was gorgeous. His gray T-shirt showed off his toned chest and arms. He must work out. His dark wavy hair looked as if he’d just come in from the promenade deck. Tousled. Sexy. And… as if those features weren’t enough, his dark brown eyes, thick lashes and a face that could be on magazine covers just about did her in.
“You’re next.”
“I am?” She blinked up at him.
He huffed out a breath. “Two salted caramel lattes, please,” he said over her head, handing his blue cruise card to the man behind the register.
“Oh. Thanks.” Heat flooded her cheeks. You’re next. Next in line. Duh. She moved aside, too embarrassed to even look at him. “I don’t normally toss coffee at strangers,” she muttered. “Or break people’s noses.”
He nodded, one brow rising as if he didn’t believe a word. She couldn’t blame him. “Did I break it?” she asked, studying his fine nose.
“Yep.”
“I’m so, so—”
“Sorry?”
“Well, I am.” She frowned.
“Don’t worry about it. No permanent damage done.” He stepped back a few paces.
Did he think she’d damage some other part of his anatomy? Marin wracked her brain for something witty to say while they waited for their coffee. Nothing came to her.
“Two salted caramel lattes,” the server behind the counter called.
Leaning close, he reached around her for their lattes. She caught a whiff of his subtle aftershave… and of him. Yum. Her pulse raced.
Holding both lidded cups close, he moved away from the bar to the cobblestones. “Can I trust you with this latte, Marintha?”
“There’s no ice on the floor, so I think we’re good.” Wait. Her eyes went wide. “You remember my name?”
“How could I forget?” He handed her the cup. “I’m Jason Doherty, by the way.”
“Nice to finally know whose nose I broke.” Why did his name sound so familiar? “I’m with a group.”
“Ah.”
“I won this cruise in a raffle.” Oh, if only her brain hadn’t gone on hiatus the minute she’d looked into his bedroom-brown eyes.
“You don’t say.” His mouth quirked up again, and he gestured toward the courtyard. “We should probably join Aidan and the others. He’s shooting us impatient looks.”
“Oh.” Aidan was indeed waving them over. She swallowed the lump of stupid that had lodged in her mouth. “You’re…”
“That’s right. We’re on this Caribbean cruise together.”
Wow.
“You don’t plan to knock me overboard or anything, do you, Marintha?”
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or serious. “Of course not.” She waved a hand in the air. “I’m not… accident-prone in general.” Her cheeks grew even hotter at the whopper she’d just told. “That was just a weird day.” I wish. “My friends call me Marin, by the way.”
“Nice to have a conversation with you that doesn’t involve a bloody nose or a coffee dousing.” He held out his hand and smiled.
He ought to wear a warning label. Caution. Dangerously hot when smiling . . . or even when not smiling. That did it. She was in lust with a lawyerly guy. Lawyerly guys were not her type. She placed her hand in his. They shook. She forgot how speak English, or any other intelligible language for that matter.
#
Jason slapped on a little aftershave, and then he slipped into his sport coat. The SLS group planned to meet for the formal-night dinner at Da Vinci’s restaurant, and he looked forward to an evening of socializing. Just as he stepped into the corridor, his neighbor’s door opened. A jolt went straight through his heart. “Marin.”
“Oh boy,” Marin muttered, her baby-blues meeting his. “We’re…”
“Neighbors,” he finished, his breaths coming shallow. Probably due to the rapid way his heart was beating. She wore a nice little blue cocktail dress that fit her curves like a glove and gave him a glimpse of cleavage. “After you.” He waited until she preceded him. The corridor was narrow, after all, and attendants with large carts worked around the clock to keep the rooms shipshape. Besides, having her in front of him provided him with a very nice view that had nothing to do with the ship or the ocean.
“I’ve been reading online about our excursion to Tulum tomorrow.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Did you know the Mayans used to perform human sacrifices?”
“No, I didn’t.” Marin didn’t wear much makeup. He liked that. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t need to paint her face. She possessed a natural, wholesome beauty that drew him and made it hard not to stare.
Once they were on the elevator, she clutched her evening bag to her midriff with both hands. Like a shield. “It’s true, and each of their stepped pyramids has a shrine at the peak, dedicated to one of their deities.”
He chuckled. “Well, someone has been doing her homework.”
She nodded and studied the ceiling as if it held some fascination for her. Finally the elevator came to their deck, and the door opened. They walked down the hall together in silence. Obviously he made her nervous, but why? He was the one who was nervous around her. She’d broken his nose, after all.
He glanced sideways at her. She wore her hair swept up tonight, and wispy, soft tendrils curled at the nape of her neck. The perfume she wore, clean and citrusy, wafted over him. His pulse raced again.
“Jason, Marin,” Aidan said with a smile. He and some of their group were standing at the entrance to the restaurant. “We’re just waiting for Max and Carrie before we go to our table. Ah, there they are.” He turned his smile toward the newcomers.
Denise was chatting with Marin, who had relaxed considerably. He couldn’t help noticing the way the color of her dress brought out the blue in her eyes. Jason followed the group as they were led to their large round table. He waited to see where Marin sat, and then he took the chair across the table from her, well out of spill range.
“Hey, is anyone else following the Minnesota Wild this year?” Michael asked.
“They’re having a great year,” Jason said. “The NHL playoffs are going to be great to watch.” He and Michael continued their conversation about hockey, others weighing in, but Jason couldn’t seem to keep his gaze from straying again and again to Marin.
The waiter came, took drink orders and left, and a discussion began about the menu, what appetizers they wanted to share, what looked good. He liked that Marin didn’t play the flirt. She didn’t try to draw attention to herself, no games or drama. As if she sensed his perusal, she looked up, catching him mid-stare. His heart pounded, and he couldn’t turn away.
Her brow rose a fraction, and a qu
izzical expression lit her pretty face. Or was the glint in her eyes a challenge? No doubt about it, they had chemistry. But he remembered the pain involved when the emergency room doctor had snapped his nose back into alignment. He was lucky he hadn’t needed surgery.
Jason broke the eye-lock first. His heart-thumping reaction to her—could it be instinct? Some kind of self-preservation warning? Her stateroom was right next to his. One door away. Disturbing, in more ways than one.
#
Jason hurried down Cozumel’s concrete pier, while doing a mental inventory of the daypack slung over his shoulder. He had his sunscreen, water and his camera, everything he’d need for the day trip. The SLS group would catch a ferry to Playa del Carmen, where they’d then take a bus to the Mayan ruins of Tulum. He’d always loved ancient history and learning about different cultures.
“Jason,” Aidan called. “Over here.”
“Hey,” he greeted everyone. “Looks like we’re going to have perfect weather today.” Sunny and clear, the day promised to be hot. All around him, tour guides held up signs with numbers on them, and tourists milled around the end of the pier. Some joined groups like theirs, while others headed for the shops lining the street on both sides. His gaze went back to the pier, searching for… Marin. There she is. A rush of anticipation ignited his blood as she hurried toward them, her hand on top of the wide-brimmed straw hat perched on her head.
She wore tan shorts, a dark blue tank top with tropical flowers painted on the front and sport sandals. Adorable. A smile—one he couldn’t seem to contain—broke free. He slid his sunglasses on. What was it about this particular woman that affected him so?
Once they were off the ferry, their tour guide, a blue-eyed, dark-skinned middle-aged man named Raul, led them through Playa del Carmen to their bus. Jason walked behind Marin, thoroughly caught up in the way her gaze darted everywhere, a look of pure enjoyment and wonder lighting her pretty face. She seemed to absorb all the sights, reflecting back the pleasure she took from the vivid colors exploding from the street-side vendors and shops, the bright blooming flowers and the tropical greenery surrounding them.
Once Upon A Night At Sea Page 2
