Authors: Lena Nelson Dooley
“I can see why.”
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Gareth gazed at the water. The startled look in Charlotte's eyes danced between him and the waves. Why had he done that? He'd frightened her. If they had given in to the urge to share a kiss in the solitude up here, it would have taken their relationship to a whole new level. Evidently Charlotte wasn't ready for that. Was he?
Of course not.
“Let's go down to deck nine and have lunch.” He stepped over to the elevator door. “The theme is Tex-Mex in the Oceanic Grill today. Do you like that kind of food?” What a lame question!
“It's one of my favorites. Remember, I'm from Texas.” Her smile speared straight to his heart. “I just hope your chefs know how to prepare it properly.”
He laughed at her audacity. “I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.”
When they stepped off of the elevator, the long lunch line had dwindled, so they walked through and made their choices. Gareth chose a table that wasn't near any other people. There would be interruptions, but maybe not too many.
After a pleasant lunch, they went back down to deck five. This time they walked through the hallway that divided the shops.
“Today there's a fine jewelry sale in this store.” He pointed toward one gift shop. “Would you like to check anything out?”
Charlotte led the way toward the glass cases containing a myriad of colored and clear stones set in a variety of styles. Her eyes lit up when she saw the display of amethyst pieces.
“I've always loved colored gemstones.” She moved down the side of the case.
“Would you like to see anything up close?” Gareth smiled at the cruise line employee who asked the question. “I'll be glad to let you try some of these items on.”
He wondered who bought Charlotte jewelry since her husband was gone. Maybe she didn't get new items. He watched her try on several. She kept going back to one set with drop earrings and another drop on a slender gold chain. Finally, she took them off and moved farther down, looking at other items. Gareth took a piece of paper out of his pocket and jotted a note on it. He folded it and thrust it into an employee's hand, telling her to give it to the person waiting on Charlotte.
Maybe he was crazy. He wasn't looking for a permanent relationship, but he knew that he didn't want what was happening between him and Charlotte to end when she stepped off the ship in New Orleans. Somehow, he was going to find a way for it to continue, and someday he would give her those amethyst pieces.
Seven
“Mom!”
The voice called to Charlotte through the veil of a pleasant dream, tugging her to a state of being half-awake. “What?” She didn't want to open her eyes yet.
Chelle flopped down on the side of Charlotte's bed and shook her. Charlotte forced her eyelids apart and stared at her daughter with what she hoped was a questioning expression.
“It's our last day on the cruise. We need to make the most of it.” Chelle leaned over to fasten her sandals.
Charlotte scooted up in the bed and leaned her pillow against the wall behind her. Chelle went to the window, pulled the heavy drapes open, and pushed the sheers to one side.
“See what a beautiful day it is.”
Charlotte rubbed her eyes and glanced at her watch, which she had forgotten to remove when she went to bed last night. “Nine o'clock! No wonder I'm hungry.” She scrambled out of bed and padded over to the desk, where she took off the watch and set it by her purse. “I'll take a quick shower, and we can go to breakfast at the Oceanic Grill. It's on the same deck as the spa.” She turned to her daughter. “I made appointments for both of us to get massages, then spa manicures and pedicures.”
Chelle smiled. “For me, too?”
“I thought it would be fun.”
After her quick shower, Charlotte twisted her hair up in back and anchored it with a large clip. Maybe she would have time to shampoo it later today. “I don't think we'll want to eat very much before the massage.”
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When they walked across the atrium section of deck nine, the warm air felt humid, probably due to the sparkling blue swimming pool in the middle and the freestanding gazebo-type structures near each corner that housed whirlpools. Many passengers already filled the water amenities, enjoying their therapeutic benefits. Thankfully, the spa was air-conditioned.
“Welcome.” A young woman in a cruise uniform greeted them as the door opened. “Are you Charlotte and Chelle Halloran?”
Chelle hurried across the room to the desk. “Yes, I'm Chelle.”
“Do you want to have your massages in the same room?” The women held a pen poised above the appointment book.
Charlotte turned to Chelle, wanting her to make the decision.
“Sure.”
“Do you have a preference as to whether a man or woman gives you the massage?”
A startled look flitted across Chelle's face. “No, whoever is really good works for me.”
Her insight surprised Charlotte.
When they had removed most of their clothing and climbed up on their own table to lie on their stomachs, another young woman came in and covered each of them with a sheet. “Carlos will do one massage, and Jeanie will do the other. Does it matter which?”
Chelle quickly answered, “I want Jeanie.”
It didn't matter to Charlotte, but she was glad that Chelle hadn't asked for the man.
Soft music wafted through the air, mingling with the tropical scent from the candles that sat on a ledge along two walls of the room. Charlotte began to relax. So far this cruise had turned out to be an emotional roller-coaster ride, and she needed something to soothe her.
Carlos pulled the sheet to her waist and anointed her with scented oil that mixed well with the fresh perfume from the candles. As he rubbed it into her skin, his fingers found all the stress knots and gently, but firmly, worked them out.
“Mom, could you believe what that man in the show did last night?” Evidently Chelle wanted to talk.
“Are you over your embarrassment yet?” Charlotte chuckled as she turned her head to look at her daughter.
“It doesn't seem so bad this morning, but when he took me up on stage and sang to me, I couldn't believe that so many people were looking at me.” Chelle's voice slowed, probably from the effects of the massage. “I don't mind being in front of a group, if there are people I know. But that theater holds a bunch of people, and I didn't know many of them. It might be good practice for when I go to college, though.”
Charlotte laughed. “You do have another year before that.”
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Because of their light breakfast, Chelle and Charlotte went down to the dining room for lunch right after their time at the spa. They barely made it before the dining room closed.
While they were waiting for their lunch to arrive, Chelle held up her hands. “I like this color on my nails.”
Charlotte chuckled. “My pale pink is more to my liking than that electric blue on yours. I can't believe you also had it put on your toenails. You don't really have anything to wear with it.”
“Mâoâm, your nails don't have to match your clothes anymore.”
After they finished most of their food, Chelle asked her mother if she could try to find some of her new friends she'd met on the ship. Charlotte waved her away and sipped more of the wonderful coffee. She knew they served Starbucks at the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream shop on deck six, but she hadn't realized that they also had it here.
When she left the dining room, she went up to check out deck eight. On one side of the Centrum, a computer room allowed passengers to go online. . .for a price. She hadn't wanted to read e-mail. This vacation meant getting away from all that. Besides, she really wasn't that comfortable with the new electronic world. All but one of the eight computers had passengers sitting in front of them. Evidently not everyone shared Charlotte's feelings.
The library on deck seven sounded like a good idea. Of course, she hadn't had time to read the book she borrowed off the shelves, so she didn't want to return it, but she took the elevator to that level anyway. She walked to the wall of windows and stared out at the gently undulating waves. Tiny white caps indicated that there was a wind, but the movement of the ship was so slight, she couldn't feel it unless she concentrated. Off in the distance, another cruise ship moved toward them. Probably on the way to the Caribbean. They should pass each other before long. Farther away, two
more oil rig platforms were silhouetted against the bright blue
sky.
“Charlotte.”
The familiar voice called to something inside her. She placed a hand on her stomach to calm the butterflies and turned. “Gareth. Are you on a break again?”
“Yes. The ship almost runs itself when we're at sea. You know, with satellite positioning and computers, all we have to do is keep watch on the equipment. This is Homer's afternoon on duty.” His long legs quickly brought him across the carpeted floor.
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Even with her hair bunched up under that plastic clamp thing, Charlotte took Gareth's breath away. Black curls had escaped and framed her face, making her skin look fresh and her blue eyes sparkle. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she, too, was breathless. How could he feel such a strong attraction when he vowed never to get involved with another woman?
Almost of its own volition, his hand reached up and twirled one of the curls around his finger. At the first touch, Charlotte held her breath, but she didn't pull away. The expression in her eyes was wary, but inviting. He had to break this magnetism. He dropped his hand to his side and looked down at the couch.
“Let's sit here and talk.” The words sounded husky even to his own ears.
“Okay.” Charlotte sat on the far end.
He followed her, but instead of sitting by the other end, he chose the middle, closer to her. After placing his arm along the back of the sofa, he glanced into her eyes. “So what did you do this morning?” Maybe that question could move them to safer ground.
Charlotte held up her hands. “Chelle and I had a massage, then a spa manicure and pedicure.”
He wanted to take them in his and kiss the fingertips. “They look nice.”
“Just nice?” Charlotte laughed, the sound music to his ears. “Nice is such an insipid word.”
“Okay.” He took a moment to compose his answer. “Your hand is lovelier than any other hand on the whole ship. How was that?”
This time, he joined in her laughter. As they continued to talk, Charlotte's gaze often glanced toward the waves outside the windows. She seemed to sink lower into the cushions of the sofa, and her eyes started drifting closed. He knew how relaxing a massage could be. Maybe she needed a nap. When her eyes finally stayed shut, her head began to loll. Gareth slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him, so she leaned against his chest. She must have felt comfortable, because she snuggled closer without waking.
She looked so beautiful sleepingâyounger and, well, relaxed. He felt free to gaze at her as much as he wanted. A slight sound from the door drew his attention. Chelle stared into his eyes. Her frown turned into a stricken expression. Before he could react, she turned and ran away.
Gareth gazed down at Charlotte's head nestled against his chest. Should he tell her what happened? Would it help or drive more of a wedge between mother and daughter?
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During dinner, Gareth tried not to pay any more attention to Charlotte than he did any other woman at his table. Even though the bright freshness of her face had the same pull as the North Star on a compass, he intentionally looked at the other women, especially Chelle. From the first moment they arrived, the teenager's expression told him that she was watching him. So he had included her in every conversation, asking her opinion on several of the subjects discussed. During the course of the meal, she seemed to relax, so he probably had been right not to worry her mother about Chelle seeing them in the library.
Charlotte pushed her dessert plate away and moved the
napkin from her lap to the table. “I can't take another bite. .
. even though I love crème brûlée.”
Chelle followed her mother's example then moved her chair away from the table. “Mom, I want to meet some of my friends up on deck. Okay?”
After studying her daughter's face, Charlotte nodded. “Okay. Just don't stay out very late.”
It didn't take Chelle long to weave a path around the tables and exit through the open doorway. She glanced back for only a moment before she was completely out of the room. Gareth felt her stare as if it were a physical punch. Maybe she hadn't gotten over her problem with what happened earlier.
The teenager proved to be the catalyst to start a mass exit from the table. In a couple of minutes, only he and Charlotte remained.
“Would you like to take a walk on deck?” Gareth pulled her chair out and offered her his arm.
Charlotte smiled up at him, slid her hand through the crook of his elbow, and placed it on his forearm. He felt the touch through the uniform jacket and the shirt he wore underneath. Other people milled around on the outside deck of level four where the dining room was, so he led the way to the elevator. They walked down the hallways on deck eight to reach the bridge. He ushered her through to the small balcony on the side.
“Am I supposed to be here?” Charlotte's skin, bathed in the bright moonlight, took on the delicate shine of a rare pearl.
He wanted to touch her cheek, but instead he leaned his arms on the railing and faced the wind, which was enhanced by the forward movement of the ship. “It's all right if I bring you.” He turned and leaned back against the rail so he could watch her expression.
“I never get tired of looking at the moon reflected on the water.” Her eyes traced a track along the light path then turned toward the heavens. “And the stars are brighter out here over the water. It's so beautiful.” Her last word was a whisper.
And you're so beautiful, Charlotte.
Did he dare say it aloud, or would the intimacy of the isolated place lead them down a road they weren't ready to travel? Charlotte rubbed her hands on her bare upper arms.
“Is it too cool out here for you?” He pulled her close and held her against his chest, tempted to kiss her, but not succumbing to the temptation. “We could go to my quarters and talk. Homer and Marilyn will be nearby.”
Gareth felt Charlotte's head nod before she whispered, “Okay.”
When he slid his key card into the door, Marilyn stuck her head out of their quarters. “I have a pot of coffee made. Would you two like some?”
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The Wilsons only stayed and visited a few minutes, and Charlotte was glad they left both Gareth's door and the door to their apartment open. Gareth moved from his chair across the room to sit near her on the sofa. She slipped off her shoes, which weren't very comfortable, and pulled her feet up beside her, spreading her full skirt to cover them.
“Tonight is the last night of the cruise.” She tried to keep the wistful note out of her tone.
“I know.” Gareth leaned forward and held his hands loosely between his knees. “I've been thinking about it ever since we left the library.”
“I can't believe I fell asleep up there.” She ran her fingers through her hair pushing the curls away from her face.
“It was probably because of the massage. Have you had one before?” Gareth leaned back and rested his arms along the back of the plush leather sofa.
She shook her head. “No, it was my first.”
“You may have been tired from all the activities, too.” When he smiled, the skin beside his eyes crinkled.