by Julie Cannon
“I met someone.” I stopped, shocked at the words I’d just blurted out. I looked around to see if anyone had heard me. Anyone like Lowe.
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
I didn’t reply. I didn’t know what to say.
“What’s her name?”
I looked around again for eavesdroppers. “Lowe Carter.” A simple name, but there was nothing simple about her.
“You’ve never mentioned her before.”
I could almost hear the wheels in my mum’s head turning. “No, we, uh…met a couple of weeks ago.” My mum didn’t have to ask how someone I’d just met had become so important for me to utter those three words. How is it that “I met someone” said it all?
“Tell me about her,” Mum asked, and for the next ten minutes I told her everything.
The way Lowe looked at me, the sound of her voice, the way she laughed, how her smile lit up my insides, how handsome she was in her tuxedo. My mum and I may be close, but I didn’t share how her touch ignited me, my name whispered in the dark took my breath away. And I certainly didn’t confess how she made me crazy with desire for her.
“She sounds like a wonderful person. So, what’s the problem?”
“She’s the daughter of a resident,” I said quietly, even though no one was anywhere near me.
“I see.” That was all my mum said. She knew the implications.
“Don’t worry, Mum. It’s just a thing.”
“It doesn’t sound like just a thing to me,” she said, using my own words.
“It will be,” I said, more to convince myself than my mum. “She leaves in a few days, and that will be that.” More convincing.
“Faith, you need to—”
I didn’t let my mum begin to tell me what I already knew. “I know, I know. Don’t worry, Mum. It’ll be all right. I’ll be all right.” I would be—eventually—maybe.
I spoke with Angelica, and after a few minutes, my mum came back on the line.
“I have to get to work, Mum.” I hated lying to her, but I had to get off the phone before I started to cry at the unreasonableness of what I’d gotten myself into. I’d put myself here, and it was up to me to get myself out.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Day Nineteen
After searching what felt like the entire ship yesterday, I found Faith sitting in a back booth of one of the restaurants. She had a pile of pristine white napkins in her lap and a tray of silverware on the table. My heart jumped with excitement, and my clit for the same reason.
Her back was to me, so I could watch her undetected for a few minutes. Her hair was up, exposing the back of her neck and that one little spot that, when I kissed it, made her moan with pleasure. The clip in her hair was the one I’d pulled out just before we fell into each other’s arms.
She smoothed another napkin, and my mind flashed on her hands running up and down my legs, inching closer and closer to my center with each stroke. Her hands were strong, her fingers sure and confident.
My knees started to feel weak, and I needed to sit down. No one had ever affected me like Faith did. Sure, I’d thought about the women I’d slept with, but not nearly the constant, mind-consuming way I thought about Faith.
What was she doing? Who was she with? Was she thinking about me? Remembering, no, reliving our hours together? Was she planning how we could get together again? Without question, she’d enjoyed it. Dozens of orgasms don’t lie.
I slowly approached, my rehearsed words on the tip of my tongue. When she turned around and our eyes met, I couldn’t think or reason.
“Hi.” God, what a stupid thing to say.
Faith looked over her shoulder before speaking. “Hello.”
That was about all my brain could manage with Faith’s dark, penetrating eyes on mine. I know what they looked like when she was happy, playful, bashful, and just before she came. I didn’t know what they were expressing now.
“May I sit down?” I finally managed to say. I was uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Faith hesitated. “For just a minute,” I added quickly.
“Certainly,” she finally said, a little too stiffly.
I pulled out a chair adjacent to the table and sat down. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Faith,” I said.
“Lowe, you don’t owe me anything. It was something we both wanted, and we had a good time. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m okay with it.”
Well, I wasn’t, so I pressed on. “That wasn’t why I wanted to talk to you.”
“It’s not going to happen again,” Faith said, quietly, looking over her shoulder. “It can’t.”
“Can’t? What do you mean it can’t?” I said a little too loudly. I quieted my voice when Faith looked like she was about to bolt. “Why can’t we see each other again?” A nagging suspicion tickled the back of my neck. My stomach started churning. “You said you weren’t involved with anyone.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what is it? You didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.” I didn’t know whether to be hurt, angry, or disappointed.
“It’s against the rules,” she said simply.
“What rules?”
“Captain’s rules.”
“The captain said you can’t have sex?”
“With residents.”
“I’m not a resident.”
“Or their guests.”
What in the hell was going on here? When we’d been together, Faith couldn’t keep her hands, and other equally skillful body parts, off me, and now, she was saying it’s against the rules?
“Wait. Let me get this straight.” I put my hands up, palms facing her. “The captain has a rule that members of the crew can’t get involved with a resident or any of their guests?” When she nodded, I asked, “Why? We’re all adults here.” I was generally a rule follower, but this one was completely absurd.
“He said it causes trouble.”
“And he doesn’t want trouble on the ship,” I interjected. “What happens if it happens?” My question sounded ridiculous, but Faith got the gist.
“We could be fired.”
“Fired? As in fired? Can he do that? Is that even legal?”
“When we’re in international waters he makes the rules. And it’s ship policy”
“But we weren’t in international waters,” I reminded Faith. We had been very much on dry land.
“I know.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to have a vacation fling with you,” Faith shot back, anger tinting her words.
“It sure didn’t seem like that to me when you had your tongue down my throat and your fingers in—”
“Stop it.” Faith’s words were strong and harsh, her eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare turn this into something it wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, appropriately chastised. “I didn’t mean it to come out that way. Our time together wasn’t cheap or tawdry, and I, in no way, meant to imply it was.” I sat back and ran my hand through my hair, trying to get ahold of my wayward emotions. “I just want to see you again.” I sounded desperate and didn’t care.
“It’s not possible. Unlike the residents on this ship, I need this job. I can’t risk—”
“What if we just saw each other when we’re in port?” I was getting more and more desperate as the minutes ticked by. Faith frowned, apparently confused. I saw my opening and jumped in. “If the rule is no shipboard romances, then there should be nothing wrong with a land-based one.” It sounded pretty good to me.
“I don’t think that’s exactly what he meant,” Faith said.
“What if we—”
Faith’s eyes blazed again. “I am not going to ask the captain, who just happens to be about four levels of management above me, if it would be okay if I have sex with the daughter of the owners of 1504, but only when we’re on land
. Did I get that right?”
It did sound a little silly when she said it, and I told her so.
“Silly? You think it would be silly? Try ridiculous, ludicrous, bizarre, and absolutely absurd.”
“But, if we—”
“There is no ‘but,’ Lowe. Don’t you get it? Just because your parents are on this ship does not mean you get whatever you want.”
“My parents have nothing to do with this,” I fired back, angry that they had been brought into the conversation.
“Don’t they?” Faith asked in disbelief. “They own one of the best apartments on the ship, and with that comes certain expected perks, but I’m not one of them.”
“Yes, you’ve told me that several times. Actually, I think you said you weren’t an amenity.”
“Nor will I be their daughter’s plaything just because you’re bored.”
That statement threw me and felt like a slap in the face. I was so stunned I wasn’t able to say anything as Faith stood and walked away.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Day 22
At sea
Sydney to Fiji
More than a little exhausted, I stumbled up the stairs. It was after eight our second day at sea after departing Sydney Harbor. I was scheduled for the sun deck, and it would be good for me to get some fresh air and sun.
I was straightening the freshly laundered towels on the shelf when a wave of awareness came over me and a shiver ran down my spine. My hands started to tremble, and my heart pounded. Only one person had ever caused a reaction like this, but she wasn’t supposed to be standing behind me in the middle of the Tasman Sea.
“Hello, Faith.”
The sound of her saying my name made my knees weak. It took me back to the dozens of other times she’d whispered it or called it out in a moment of passion.
“What are you doing here?” I was afraid to turn around. It was four days after I left her on the deck, and I’d finally gotten myself together, so I didn’t have to struggle to breathe.
“Looking for you.”
“I thought you left.”
“Apparently not.”
“Why not?” I asked but was scared to death to learn the reason.
“Not that I’m complaining about the view, but are you going to look at me?”
I spun around, realizing she was probably staring at my butt. She’d told me over and over how she thought it was perfect.
My pulse jumped. Lowe was the best-looking thing I’d seen since walking away from her the day before we docked in Sydney. The day she was supposed to fly to the other side of the world, go on with her life, and release me from her spell.
She was more striking and overwhelmingly captivating than I remembered. The pull between us was powerful, and I had to use all my willpower not be swept into it. Lowe’s eyes were piercing, and I was sure she could see right through me.
“I don’t like unfinished business.”
My heart leapt again. We were unfinished business?
“Why are you hiding from me?”
“I didn’t know you’d stayed aboard.” That was true, but it sounded like a weak excuse.
“I looked for you everywhere.”
She’d looked for me? “It’s a big ship.”
Lowe raised her eyebrows like she’d caught me in a fib. “Why are you here?” I asked.
Please, please, please say it’s because you can’t live without me, I thought. That you can’t stop thinking about me. That you dream about a life with me raising kids in a big house with a couple of dogs. That you can’t breathe without me in your life. That the sun shines brighter, the air is cleaner, and the world is a better place with me beside you.
“Why did you walk away?”
I glanced around the pool, looking for an escape. I wanted to run, sprint from my chaotic emotions.
“I had to get to work.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.” Her words were strong. I wondered if that was her boss voice.
“You were leaving. We had a good time, and it was over. You were going home in two days. What was the point?”
Please don’t say what I desperately want you to. I don’t have the strength to step away again.
“So that’s it then?”
“What else is there?” Other than the fact that Raul thinks I’m in love with you. He tried to convince me of it last night.
“You’re in love with her,” Raul said after I spilled my guts to him. We were in my room, a half-eaten, his half, pizza between us. My appetite had disappeared around the time I took my clothes off in front of Lowe and now, three days later, had still not returned. I’d managed to avoid her the two days we were at sea returning to Sydney. We’d docked earlier this morning, and if I could just stay out of sight until we departed this evening, I wouldn’t have to risk running into her again.
“I am not in love with her,” I replied adamantly. I couldn’t be. We’d spent, what, a few weeks together? We barely knew each other.
“Don’t lie to yourself, Faith.”
“I’m not.” God, I sounded pathetic. “I admit I fell for her, but it was purely physical. I did not fall in love with her.” Absolutely no way. Maybe if I said it a hundred times more, I’d begin to believe it.
“What would be the point?” I asked, unable to stop myself. Raul just sat patiently listening to me. “She left to go home, and we’re headed to Fiji, for crying out loud. She won’t be back for another year.”
“Love doesn’t always follow the rules,” Raul said patiently.
“Stop saying that,” I barked. I cringed at his hurt expression.
“Okay, okay, whatever you say.”
He finally stopped talking nonsense and changed the subject. At least I think he did, for my thoughts and attention had drifted back to Lowe.
Lowe looked intense. I could see her thoughts churning in her head. It felt like forever before the expression on her face hardened.
“Maybe I wanted to spend more time with you?”
“Again, what was the point? It’s not like we’re building a relationship and are going to date or spend the rest of our lives together.”
Lowe’s eyes flared, and I tried to laugh off the idea, but it sounded more like I was choking.
I was trying to be loose and easy about our time together. Isn’t that what a rich, successful woman like Lowe wanted? She wasn’t looking for happily ever after. It was obvious what her parents thought of me. Even though Lowe was her own woman, could she go against them on something so important? My family meant the world to me, and I refused to put her in that position.
“Excuse me, Ms. Carter.”
Rob, one of the deck hands, interrupted us. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or wanted to push him overboard.
“Ms. Carter,” he asked again since Lowe hadn’t acknowledged him.
“Yes?” She was still looking at me.
“I have a note from your parents.” He handed Lowe a folded sheet of white paper. I caught a glimpse of the Escape logo on the top.
“Thank you,” she replied, not taking her eyes off me.
Rob hesitated, obviously not sure what he was supposed to do. He glanced from Lowe to me.
“Thanks, Rob,” I said, giving him an approving nod. He scampered away, but not before looking between Lowe and me again. I was sure we’d be the talk of the crew by dinner.
“It seems as though you’ve already made up your mind about us,” Lowe said after he was out of earshot.
“I think it’s pretty obvious we have no future,” I somehow managed to say.
Lowe’s eyes were hard and probing, and I felt pinned to the deck. Don’t look away, and for God’s sake, don’t let her see how devastated you are. I told myself this several times before Lowe finally stood. She didn’t say anything as she walked away.
My heart crashed, and I wanted to curl up into a ball until the stabbing pain subsided. I would always ache, but I could live with that. I’d have to.
/> Chapter Twenty-nine
My resolve hardened. Faith was lying. I could see it written all over her face. She wore her emotions like an outer skin. What we had shared these past few weeks meant something to her, regardless of her words to the contrary. I’d extended my departure and had a week to make her realize it, yet I had no idea how. But then what? We’d sail off into the sunset? Pretty corny considering we were on a ship. It wasn’t very feasible either. What would I do? Sell my business and move in with my parents to be with Faith? I certainly couldn’t afford to buy a place on the Escape. Would Faith quit her job and come home to Phoenix with me? She’d be crazy to do that. She didn’t know me any more than I knew her. Making a commitment like that didn’t make sense. Besides, was I ready for that?
My head was pounding when I met my parents for dinner later that evening. They’d insisted, even though I knew we had nothing more to talk about. We’d both made our respective points clear the day before we docked in Sydney.
“I’ve decided to stay on until Hawaii, if that’s all right with you.”
Both my parents and my sister stopped eating, their forks halfway to their mouths. They looked comical. Three sets of eyes turned my way. That rarely happened.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my mother said, setting her fork on the table next to her plate and delicately wiping the corners of her lipsticked mouth with her linen napkin.
At that moment, I was certain she knew about Faith. “Why do you say that?” I knew what her answer would be, but for some masochistic reason I needed to hear it.
“I don’t think I need to explain.”
“Yes, Mother, you do. I’d like to know why you disapprove of your daughter’s happiness so much.” Not that it mattered. It hadn’t for a very long time.
“Lowe,” Victoria said, but I cut her off before she had a chance to say any more.
“I’m not talking to you, Victoria.”
The room was quiet as I waited for my mother to answer my question. My father hadn’t said anything, not that I expected him to. Amazingly, Victoria kept her mouth shut.
