“Almost married him.” Simone sighed and began unloading the shelves.
Drying the vinyl table with a paper towel, Vicki asked, “So what happened?”
She shrugged. “He broke our engagement a couple of times. I think he was what you’d call, ‘a commitment-phobic bleedin’ mess.’”
“And you loved him?”
“Avec tout ma coeur. With all my heart.”
“Buggar.”
Simone bit her lip and Vicki thought she saw tears forming in her eyes. “I can finish this, Simone. Why don’t you choof off?”
Simone offered her a weak smile, and said, “Thanks. I think I will. You’re done after this room, anyway, so I’ll see you later.”
“It’s nearly finished? Seriously?”
“We can pull the light fixtures off and scrub them with your toothbrush next week. You’re free. Go see Miami.”
* * *
Miklos tossed his duffle bag over his shoulder, picked up his guitar case, and nodded to the man who had just given him a room assignment and a key card. He had walked about halfway up the gangplank when he spotted her walking down.
Could it be? She was stunning. Her light yellow hair shone in glorious contrast to her tan shoulders. She wore a short, white, crocheted dress and her bare legs were longer than he had thought they would be. His pulse raced, and his feet wouldn’t move. She hadn’t seen him yet. What should he do? What could he do but stare?
When she was about four feet away, she looked up. Her azure blue eyes gazed directly into his, and she froze.
It’s definitely her--my woman--standing right in front of me. He couldn’t feel his fingers and toes. His whole body hummed and tingled. She was staring at him with ocean-blue eyes the size of coins. He didn’t need second sight to know she was reeling in shock too.
While trying to avoid staring at her bare legs--something no Rom woman would display--he set his guitar on the ramp, took a step forward and extended his hand. The smell of roses wafted on the breeze and filled his nostrils. If he needed a sign from the universe, that was it. In all of his visions of her, he had smelled roses in full bloom and just knew it was her scent.
“Miklos,” he said in his gentlest voice.
“I--I’m afraid I don’t speak your language,” she said as she took his hand. “Do you speak English?”
He couldn’t prevent the chuckle that escaped his lips. Her hand warmed his, and its softness reminded him of peaches. He kissed it, hoping to ease her apparent shock. “Yes. My name is--Miklos.”
Her free hand covered her mouth, and then she giggled through her fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m a perfect arse, aren’t I?”
He smiled. “No, you’re just perfect.”
Vicki dropped her head, but not her hand. “I’m Victoria.” A shy smile stole across her face and warmed his heart. “You can call me Vicki.”
He could sense her beginning to relax, and relief swept over him. “Your name is almost as beautiful as you are--Vicki.” The happiness of at last having her name on his lips was indescribable.
Three long years he had been searching for the woman he saw vividly standing by the sea. He had deserted his tribe and his fourteen-year-old cousin to whom he was betrothed. Now banished, he couldn’t go back. And to think, I had almost given up hope. He gazed at her skin and couldn’t wait to touch more than her hand.
A blush covered her cheeks. “Thank you, Miklos. You’re quite the greaser.”
She flashed her already familiar bright smile, and his heart leapt. What she meant by ‘greaser’, he didn’t know, but neither did he care. They shared a long handshake, and reluctantly, he permitted her fingers to slip from his grasp.
She turned and indicated the entryway of the ship. “May I carry your guitar for you? I’d like to help you feel welcome.”
Delighted, Miklos gave her a slight bow. “That would be very kind.”
As soon as Vicki stepped onto the males’ only floor, she must have regretted it, he thought. Men were standing in their doorways half dressed. One was wrapped only in a towel. Her bold presence created an air of surprise and exhilaration. Whistles followed them down the hall, but she ignored them to Miklos’ relief.
“Everyone gets a nickname on this ship. What should yours be?”
“Miklos,” he answered unable to remove his eyes from her delicate face, her clear blue eyes, her sweet pink lips, and her perfect little nose.
She giggled. “No, silly. You said Miklos was your name. Now we need another name to call you. It’d be bloody shame if you were left out. A nickname means you belong.”
It took a few moments to process her words, not because her accent was too difficult to understand, although he had never heard English spoken quite that way before, but his head was swirling with stimuli. Her rose scent, the soft glow on her pale blond hair and creamy skin, her mesmerizing eyes. He hesitated to believe in love at first sight, but his heart was pounding. She was everything he could have wanted, and she was his destiny.
“Oh, I meant that Miklos is my nickname. My passport says Domenic, but I prefer to be called Miklos.”
She sent him the smile. The one he saw in his visions that told him what a happy person she must be. He said a silent prayer of thanks to his ancestors for guiding him to her. He had seen her so many times. She had haunted his dreams. And yet he was beginning to doubt all he had been taught.
Thank the Gods he had remained faithful to his beliefs, followed the signs as they were revealed and kept hope in his heart, for, at last, he had found her and could actually touch her. Soon he would be touching her intimately. He was sure of that.
Vicki stared at the floor as they continued their long leisurely walk and asked, “What do you do for a crust?”
He ran the phrase around in his mind more than once. He thought he had learned the English language well. “I don’t understand.”
“I mean, why did they hire you?”
He stopped when he reached the cabin door bearing the number of his room. “I guess they were desperate.”
Vicki laughed. “No, dipstick. What job were you hired for?”
Miklos bristled at the affront. How could she say something like that to him? His perfect woman--his angel on earth? She had only known him for a few minutes, and he had been nothing but kind to her. Perhaps she thought all men were crude and deserved her distain. Certainly, the members of the male population they had just seen were not gentlemen.
He opened the door with his key card and held it. “Vicki. I am not like other men. I don’t deserve your insults.”
She dropped the guitar, her mouth open. “I didn’t mean it as an insult! Oh, I’m sorry. I’m used to teasing my mates, and I haven’t had a lot of experience with other cultures... I--I’m afraid I...”
Miklos’ eyebrows shot up. “Mates?”
The thought of other men sleeping with his woman, shocked and upset him more than the insult, even more than his precious guitar hitting the deck. She had to be pure. She just had to have waited for him as he had waited for her.
“Uh, friends. Mates means friends.”
She shuffled her feet and looked so uncomfortable he thought she might dash away. “I’m sorry. I forget that my words may have another meaning,” she muttered.
He put a finger to her lips and said, “Shhh. Friends.” She already considered him a friend. He nodded. Don’t ruin it, Miklos. You’ve searched too long and come too far. There would be a right time to demand proper respect. And to show her the meaning of the word, “mate.” It would have to be soon, though. No woman should get into the habit of speaking to her husband that way.
“I was hired for the fitness trainer position.” He had tried hard to speak without a thick accent, but when he wasn’t concentrating, his w’s would come out of his mouth sounding like v’s. His i’s became e’s, and he rolled his r’s. Thus, he heard himself say, “I vas hired for the fitness trrrainer poseetion,’ and inwardly cringed. The dockworkers in New York had enjoyed humiliating
him because of his accent, and he tried to lose it. She either didn’t notice or care.
“Oh. I’ll be seeing you, then. I work at the spa right next to the gym. There are big windows between them in part.”
He bowed and said, “I look forward to it.”
With that, she whirled around and hurried away. He watched her. It was the first time he had seen her from behind. Her bottom was taut, round, and swished from side to side. “Mamma Mia” he mumbled. Just as she was turning the corner, she whammed into a good-looking, male crewmember.
“Oh, Ron! I’m sorry.”
“My fault, Vicki. I was supposed to meet my cabin mate, but someone said he already came aboard. I was trying to catch up with him.”
“No harm done. Well, I’d better blow through!”
Miklos watched the young man’s eyes follow her, and the sharp edge of jealousy hacked at his fragile heart.
* * *
Vicki’s face was burning. She must be as red as a spanked bum. Her mother had warned her about offending people from other cultures, but Vicki had thought she was just making more excuses to keep her at home. She told herself she’d never offend anyone, and the first time it happened, look who she had offended. Her mystery man. He was so handsome, and such a gentleman--and what a sexy Slavic accent. She had never met a man like that.
She wouldn’t have been stunned if he disappeared again. How could anyone so handsome exist in real life? She wanted to spend time with him and get to know him intimately. Now he wouldn’t want to look at her. You’re a bloody ningnong, Vicki.
She hurried up the flight of stairs to depart the ship thinking about how he was truly the most magnificent man she had ever met. She had taken a gander at his massive chest and arms on their first meeting when his light gauze shirt fluttered in the wind and hugged his body. His physique was burned into her memory and would remain there to tantalize her.
The fresh breeze cooled her face as she neared the top of the stairs. Still focused on their meeting, she walked in a daze toward the door and down the gangway. He was a noble gentleman, and incredibly attractive because of it. His voice was low and melodic. Of course the Australian boys she knew were awfully noisy and even louder when they were stonkered.
Her very first impression of the mysterious brooding figure had scared her. When she had seen his handsome face appear and disappear, she had hoped it was a stress-induced hallucination. Now that she had met him, touched him, and heard his gentle sensuous voice, his sweet words, she could never be afraid of him again.
Perhaps someday she’d figure out what had happened in the crew bar and cyber room. Those intense, dark eyes seemed as if they knew her, and as if he was seeing her too, but how could that be when he wasn’t even aboard? Only a few minutes ago, he looked at her with a glow of loving recognition. Just remembering it made her warm, and suddenly her solar plexus tightened as if some primal urge waited to overwhelm her. Was it love at first sight? She found it hard to breathe, and it wasn’t due to the high humidity in the hot tropical air.
Vicki glanced up and down the pier. She saw no one she knew well enough to ask to be her tour guide. She hadn’t made any particular plans and wished she had invited Miklos to join her. Too late. Ron would probably be showing him around the ship by now.
Still, she wanted to make up for her unintentional rudeness when she saw Miklos again. Then, as if received by satellite, an idea came to her. Look for some sort of welcome aboard gift in Miami. She couldn’t afford to buy much, and she didn’t want to nick a gift. Getting arrested and kicked off the ship would certainly put a damper on her hopes and dreams, and she certainly had high hopes for some fabulous physical training with her gorgeous mystery man.
Chapter Four
That evening, Vicki found a cab, but the traffic was ridiculous. She dashed down the dock, almost tripping and falling. She made it to the ship just in time to prevent one of the worst possible disasters--missing the boat, literally, and having to use her own money to catch up with it in the next port. She had heard that was yet another reason to be instantly fired. Whew. Better not cut it that close again.
She rushed up the gangway behind the last of the passenger stragglers. The man checking ID’s shook his head as if both in warning and reprimand. She hurried to her cabin, deposited the few packages she had, and collapsed on her bunk long enough to catch her breath.
Simone was probably in the crew bar. The thought of a refreshing beer sounded perfect at the moment, so Vicki wrapped her hair into a ponytail, grabbed the thin paper bag containing her gift, pocketed her change purse, and left the room.
Bounding down the stairs to the bar, she arrived at the large, open doorway and could see the room filled with people and buzzing with excitement. She glanced around searching for Simone, until her eyes met his. Miklos. She was rooted to the spot staring at him. He smiled and waved her over. She let out a deep breath and hoped this meant she was forgiven.
Making her way past several people who invited her to join them, she pushed on until she reached his table--the same one at which she sat when she summoned him. He stood and pulled out a chair for her.
“Vould you care to join me?” he asked in his sexy Slavic accent.
“Yeah, I would.” As soon as she sat, he pushed her chair in. Who would have expected such charming manners in this day and age? “I’m happy to see you here. I thought I’d have to look for you.”
“You did?” He leaned forward.
She could feel her heart beat faster and took in a calming breath before she spoke. “I have something for you. It’s not much, but I’d like to make up for accidentally insulting you earlier today.”
Miklos leaned against the back of his chair as she handed him the paper bag. “That was very kind. Thank you.”
“Well, open it.” She almost added the word, ‘silly’ but managed to stop herself in time. Whew.
He held her gaze, and his smile grew. The bag crinkled as he reached inside and extracted a folded sheet of music. Looking carefully at both sides, his brows knit. At last he looked up at her and asked, “What is this?”
“Music.” Why doesn’t he know what a sheet of music looks like? “I saw your guitar. Don’t you play it?”
Miklos looked at the sheet again. “Yes. People say I play very well, but I’m not familiar with this paper and how it becomes music.”
“Oh.” She had gone and done it again. “It’s um... It’s not important.”
He frowned and leaned against the back of his chair. “Yes it is. A gift is always important, and this gift is very important because it comes from you. Somehow you know what music means to me. I want to understand what this is.” He waved the paper.
“Well, some people need it to learn a particular song. The notes and the words are written on the paper. It’s called sheet music. I can teach you to read it if you don’t know how. I learned to read music in school.”
Miklos laid the paper on the table and took her hand in both of his. “That would be the nicest gift of all--to spend time with you. I’m afraid I didn’t attend traditional school. We moved a lot. I learned to play my guitar by watching and learning from others in my family. But I don’t need a paper to play what’s in my heart.”
She sucked in a deep breath and wondered what was in his heart. His hands were rough in texture but so plump and warm. Her enclosed hand felt as if it were it wore a thick wool mitten.
Miklos let go and fingered the paper. “Music is in my soul. It’s my joy in times of celebration and my comfort in times of sadness. You know me well, already.”
Did she? She wished she could believe that. Perhaps she could ask him about the flashes of recognition. The quick glimpses she had had of him? But how could she do that without the risk of sounding bonkers.
She wasn’t usually lost for words. Maybe she could just toss it out there and see what he’d do. Even if she made a fool of herself, and she had plenty of times, perhaps she could laugh about it and pretend it was all a joke.
Miklos was running his fingers over the lines of music as if trying to read it by Braille. Vicki watched how his fingers touched the paper gently, with reverence. If he ever touched her like that, she’d probably faint in his arms. How could such a hot looking man be so humble and sensitive? The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to be with him.
“Tell me about your home, Miklos. I want to know all about you.”
Miklos raised his eyes, smiled, and stared past her for a moment. “I am from a beautiful place--a place of snow-capped mountains and green valleys and blue lakes and rivers, large towns, and small villages.”
“All of that? All in one place?”
“I come from many places and they’re all beautiful because the earth is magnificent, and now I can add the sea to my many homes.”
“How many homes have you had?”
“Just one. The world provides us with everything we need for shelter. We only borrow the land we live on, Vicki. My home is everywhere I go.”
“Right. That’s an unusual way of looking it, though.”
“Not really. My people believe that God is the sky and the earth and created the Sun, Moon, Fire, Wind and Mist. We are children of the earth and when we die we become stars in the sky.”
Vicki stared at him. She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she could tell that he believed it. The way he spoke was so spiritually soothing that she wanted to believe it too.
“Right now my home is on the sea. Can you say any person owns the sea?”
She blinked. “No, I suppose not. What country did you come from?”
“Greece. I worked on a farm in the mountainous Greek countryside for a while. It was not what I wanted, but I owed a kind Greek farmer an enormous debt of gratitude for saving my life. I stayed with him for a year.”
Sensation of the Seas Page 3
