Читать книгу Destination Love - Gwynne Forster, Gwynne Forster - Страница 9

“Can we take clogging lessons again tomorrow?” Sheri asked at the end of the first lesson. “The ship’s made stops at several ports where we couldn’t disembark, and I’m going to enjoy a few hours on land for a change. When do we get to Halifax?”

He looked at his tour guide. “Tomorrow morning. Do you still want to go in the whirlpool, or shall we do that on the next leg? We’ll have a full day on ship.”

She wasn’t sure that he liked the idea of spending the whole day with her, so she said, “I don’t care which we do.”

He gaze seemed to pierce her. “Why can’t we do both? Are you saving time for the yellow T-shirt? Is that it?”

That was what she wanted to hear. “I’d love to do both, but I didn’t want to presume to occupy all your time.”

“If I didn’t enjoy your company, I’d find a way to avoid it. You’re making this trip an enjoyable one for me.”

What should she say to that? She reached for his hand. “Let’s get some lemonade. The clogging practically winded me.”

He dropped her hand and slung an arm around her waist. “I think I’d like a smoothie. Let’s go to the fruit bar. You can get lemonade there, and I can get my smoothie.” He squeezed her a little closer, and when she glanced up at him, she saw the same warmth—what else could she call it?—that she’d seen in his eyes at lunch. Yet, she didn’t think it wise to take his interest in her as permanent. She didn’t know much about him, but what she had observed of him pleased her. Still, she wasn’t much of a chance taker, and he certainly represented a gamble.

“There’s a museum in Halifax that I’d like to visit, but I’m not sure of its name,” she said. “Also, I’d like to see the citadel and that famous cemetery for blacks. Nova Scotia has a sorry history in regard to blacks.”

He had a way of frowning when displeased, she’d noticed. “Yeah,” he said. “Tell me about it. The British sold the slaves a bill of goods, promising free land to the black soldiers who fought on their side during the American Revolution. Of course, they got land that was unsuitable for farming, when they got any at all.

“A group of U.S. blacks arrived in Halifax in 1783 aboard the Amistad. They didn’t fare too well. Canada was British at the time, and it didn’t outlaw slavery until 1834. So free blacks had a rough time.”

Shaking his head, Wright opened his travel guide. “Man’s inhumanity to man. I wonder how far it is from Halifax to Birchtown. At one time, Birchtown had the largest population of free blacks outside of Africa. I wonder what it looks like today.”

“Is it close enough that we could go there while the ship’s in port?”

“From this map, I’d say that would be impossible. Suppose we see what we can of Halifax and come back early enough to get a shower and a nap before dinner.”

“That’ll do it for me,” she said

“May I see you to your room?”

“Yes. If you’d like.” Was that calm voice hers? It seemed as if every nerve in her body had decided to stand on end. She opened her mouth to tell him to turn left from the bottom of the escalator, and her lips trembled so badly that she pressed them together and said nothing. She looked at him to see if he noticed, but she couldn’t be sure. Where was her famous aplomb, and what had happened to her ability to stare down anything that wasn’t a rattlesnake?

“I don’t think you want me to go in,” he said, standing with her at her door. When his arms went around her, she looked up at him, expectantly and eager. But she wasn’t prepared for the intoxicating power of his kiss. How was she to know that he wanted his tongue in her mouth? He rimmed the seams of her lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Open up and let me kiss you,” he whispered with the urgency of one clamoring for life.

She parted her lips, and he went into her, grabbed her hips and lifted her to fit him. Holding him as tightly as she could, she sucked his tongue as deeply into her as he’d let her and let him know she wanted more. She shifted her body from side to side, rubbing against him. What was wrong with her? Every nerve in her body seemed to stand on end, and every inch of her skin burned as if he’d singed it. She gripped him tighter and her hips moved into him, undulating. When she would have locked her legs around his hips, he eased her to the floor.

His gaze seemed to darken almost as if he were trying to see into her. “I’ll meet you at six-thirty. Same place,” he said and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” she yelled at him. Seemingly stunned, he stood still for a second. “You do this to me and then walk off as if nothing happened?” Sheri taunted with her knuckles locked to her hips. “Damned if I’ll take that from you. I’ll eat dinner at my regular table.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to her. “You couldn’t be angry after the way you kissed me. Could you? We were standing in the hall. With a little privacy, you won’t have one thing to complain about.” He kissed her on the mouth. “See you at six-thirty.”

She opened the door, locked it behind her and dumped herself on the bed. What had that man done to her? In that moment when he had his tongue in her mouth, holding her so tight that pain settled in her nipples, she’d wanted him worse than she wanted to breathe. She knew she would have let him have anything he wanted. She’d never known such a feeling. Where have I been all my life? She said the words again aloud and then wondered at their truth.

She was not a virgin. She’d figured that a nineteen-year-old woman ought to know something about sex, so she chose a college classmate who she considered to be of superior intelligence and made what she regarded as a clinical experiment into the efficacies of sex. She hadn’t counted on the pain, but when that was over, something pleasant should have happened. Nothing pleasant did. Maybe she’d chosen the wrong guy. Several months later, she tried it again with a different man and with the same results. It had not occurred to her that she might be the type of woman for whom an enjoyable sexual experience required emotional involvement. Instead, she decided that the hoopla about sex was a lot of hype and spent her time thereafter cultivating her mind.

She showered, changed into a cotton-piqué yellow sundress and bolero, and a pair of low-heel sandals, and went to the ship’s store. “I don’t want any lipstick,” she told an aggressive saleswoman, “but could you recommend something for my lashes and a little rouge? I’m a university professor, and I don’t put a lot of goo on my face.”

“Come over here.”

Sheri followed the woman to what looked like a dental chair in a tiny room. “You have lovely skin, but you’re pale. You’re a little bit darker than what we call olive tone, and you need a little color.”

Twenty minutes later, Sheri looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t see any makeup, but her face glowed. “Can you teach me how to do that?” she asked the woman.

“With pleasure.”

Later, feeling as if she’d made a friend, Sheri left the cosmetics counter with several articles she’d never owned before and expert advice on their application. She also had an added sense of confidence.

“Don’t tell me I’ve become invisible.”

Sheri whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice. “Hi, Brian. For that, you’d have to shrink a lot or take some kind of miracle drug.”

“You’re glowing. I wish I was the guy responsible for it. Surely you can have one little drink with me.”

“Brian, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I don’t see the point in crossing my signals.”

“How long have you known that guy? If you met him on ship, he’s not more entitled to your confidence and trust than I am. Think about that.”

“You’re probably right, but I normally go with my intelligence and my instincts. Where he’s concerned I’ve got that and more for a guide.”

“I’m not giving up. There’s something about you. I missed it at first, but the more I see you, the more I see in you.” He didn’t smile, and she realized that his interest in her might be more than the desire for a shipboard romance.

“I’m sorry, Brian. I really am. Bye.”

She hadn’t gone six feet before she saw Wright sitting in a lounge chair with his right ankle draped across his left knee, and she knew at once that he’d seen her talking with Brian.

“With that glow you’ve got, you’re not going to tell me you bumped into that guy a minute ago, are you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to tell you. And if you don’t believe me, tough,” she said, her temper high and rising. She would have walked on past him, but he was out of the chair like a squirrel after a nut.

“Why don’t you tell him to leave you alone?”

“I told him that I am not interested, and he said he’s not giving up. As long as he keeps a reasonable distance, I can’t demand that the captain pitch him into the Atlantic.”

His fingers plowed through his hair. “All right. I’m sorry. But that guy’s starting to get on my nerves. He sees that you’re with me. Why doesn’t he get his own woman?”

This good-looking brother was jealous. Would it be different with a man who made her feel as he did and who cared about her? Her gut instinct told her that it would be, and if for no reason other than the fact that Wright was a mature and experienced man, not a pretend-to-know-it-all college jock. But did she dare take a chance? She had spent years bridling her libido. She looked at Wright and, for the first time, she saw genuine vulnerability in him.

She grasped his hand. “Come on. I wanted to look nice this evening, so I dressed, went to the store and bought some makeup.”

“You what? You didn’t need makeup.”

“Yes, I did, and that’s what’s making me glow, as you put it.”

He looked hard at her “Something’s different, but I don’t see any makeup. It’s six-fifteen. I’d like a margarita.”

“I’ll have a glass of wine, but I need to put this package in my room. It won’t take long.”

“I’ll go with you. That guy knows when I’m not around, and I’m damned if I’ll make it easy for him. I’m not going in,” he said when they reached her room. “You’re temptation personified.” She went in, dropped the bag on the bed and rejoined him. “This is a great color for you,” he said of her dress.

“Thanks. I was glad to see that Brian wasn’t wearing his yellow shirt today,” she said as they approached the bar.

When his arms slid around her waist, and his hand tightened possessively, she saw from her peripheral vision that Brian approached. “Good evening,” he said to Wright. “Care to share a drink? I’ve been trying to get Sheri to join me for a drink. Maybe if you join us, she won’t be so apprehensive about me.”

“I’m not apprehensive, Brian. I’m just not interested. If Wright wants to have a drink with you, he’s welcome. But I don’t and, after this cockeyed trick, I won’t.” She looked at Wright. “You coming?”

“Excuse me a minute, Sheri.” Wright walked over to Brian, and she couldn’t hear what he said, but from Brian’s expression, it could not have been friendly. She was relieved when Brian lifted his shoulder in a shrug and walked away.

“What did you say to him?”

“Precisely? I’m not sure you want to know. It added up to showing me the proper respect.”

It wasn’t the first inkling she’d had that Wright was a no-nonsense man. Brian did a foolish thing, and he didn’t have her sympathy. “I’ve just decided to join you in a margarita. Life’s too short to miss out on the good stuff.”

He narrowed his left eye. “Brian’s recklessness brought on that scene. That’s no reason why you should be incautious.” He took her hand and headed for the bar. “When did you last drink a margarita or any other mixed drink containing hard liquor? Huh?”

“I don’t remember.”

“I bet you don’t. You’re not a worldly woman. If you’d like to try a cocktail, I suggest something like brandy Alexander, which contains heavy cream, or a vodka comet, which contains vodka, tonic water and a slice of lime on a cube of ice. Let the ice melt before you drink it. And to be on the safe side, drink some half-and-half or chew a few Mylanta tablets before you go to the bar, and eat something while you drink. You don’t know your tolerance for alcohol.”

If she had needed proof that his aim was not merely to get her into bed, he’d just given it to her. This man did not want to ply her with alcohol in order to seduce her. She stifled a laugh. He’d be lucky if she didn’t seduce him.

“Be careful, Sheri. Your eyes are giving me some signals that you may not want me to have.” His words came out in a low, almost sultry growl. “You are an exciting woman, and you shouldn’t forget that.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things, I’m sure, but I doubt exciting was one of them. But if you think so…” She let the thought hang.

“I think so. What will it be?”

She looked from him to the bartender and back. “A vodka comet, long on the tonic water.”

“And you, sir?”

“A margarita. Very cold. I thought you’d order wine,” Wright said to her when the bartender turned to mix the drinks.

“Why? I trust your judgment.”

Something firelike flickered in his eyes. “Thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

“I wasn’t being nice. I was telling the truth.”

“This is not the place for me to kiss you.”

She’d never dreamed what it would be like to go toe-to-toe with a man on a nonacademic, nontechnical topic, and she loved every second of it. “You mean there’re special places for kisses? Where?”

He jerked forward as if suddenly alert. “You want me to show you? If I do, you may not get to that dining room tonight.”

She pasted an expression of innocence on her face, geared to playing the game. “Why not? What does one have to do with the other?”

“Don’t play with me, Sheri.”

“Is that what I’m doing? I want to know where people go to kiss.”

He blinked rapidly as if confused. Then he laughed aloud. “Not to worry, sweetheart. Stick with me, and I’ll enjoy showing you.”

She imagined that her eyes sparkled with eagerness when she said, “You will? How far away is it?” She’d never before put herself to flirting with a man, and as she watched his reaction, she got the feeling that, if she tried, she could make the wind reverse its course.

“Two feet.” He leaned over, grasped her shoulder and kissed her on the mouth.

“Oh!” She didn’t want him to see her reaction, but her heartbeat took off like a spooked thoroughbred and perspiration beaded her forehead. She put her hands in her lap to hide their trembling.

He didn’t move his gaze or alter his piercing look. “Don’t worry, Sheri. It always happens to both.”

She wasn’t about to ask him to clarify that.

The next morning, they left the dining room holding hands, walked down the gangplank and into one of the waiting taxis. “Fifty Canadian dollars for a three-hour tour,” the supervisor of the taxis assured them. “If you want the taxi longer, negotiate it with the driver, but if you don’t want to get cheated, come back here and start again.” The man handed Wright a map of Halifax and a sightseeing brochure. “Enjoy.”

At the citadel, Canada’s national historic site, Wright and Sheri watched the changing of the guard and the firing of the cannon. “Now I don’t care what we see,” he said. “I just want a feel of the place. Just drive,” he told the cabbie. “We want to see the city, and don’t skip the black neighborhoods, because we know there is at least one.”

“Yeah, man,” the driver said. “These people don’t know it, but they’re way behind you folks down in the States.”

He leaned back in the cab, uncertain as to whether he should take Sheri Stephens in his arms and show her where a person could kiss. Things had moved more rapidly and smoothly than he had anticipated. The pace of writing on his novelized autobiography had slowed because he spent so much of his time with Sheri. And when he wasn’t with her, he was either thinking about her or pushing her from his thoughts. He needed to have a good talk with himself. Allowing her to play around in his head was not in his plans.

He looked at her sitting as quietly as if she were alone, not looking left or right, and certainly not at him. She was so unlike the woman who’d slammed the door so mercilessly on his dream and his hopes. And so vulnerable. Without thinking he lifted her hand from her lap and folded it into his own. She looked at him, her expression more plaintive than joyful.

“What is it, Sheri? What’s wrong?” She shook her head. “Come here. Come closer to me.” She closed the short distance between them with alacrity and with what he could see was a forced smile. “Something isn’t right. What is it?”

“Nothing. I…I don’t seem to recognize myself.”

She wasn’t the only one. “Do you at least like the person you see in yourself now?”

“That’s just it. I do, and I didn’t know this person was in me.” As if that confession released something inside of her, she snuggled closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her and stared down at her glistening mouth. Like nail to magnet, he lowered his head and claimed it. Her arms went around him, and he spread his legs, lifted her and set her on his thigh. She went at him then, as greedily as a mouse after cheese. Her skirt rose up, baring her thighs, but she didn’t notice. She sucked his tongue as if she’d been starved for it, and when his hand skimmed her thigh, she shifted her hips, triggering his arousal. Quickly, he lifted her up and put her back on the car seat.

“We’re either going to have to leave each other alone or do something about this,” he said. To his amazement, she said nothing, closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s your response?”

“I can’t switch gears that fast. You’re still kissing me.”

“Really? I wonder what you’d do if I kissed you the way I want to?”

“You’re whetting my appetite.”

“And you’re encouraging me.”

“This is the Black Cultural Centre for Nova Scotia,” the cabbie told them. “If we stop here for half an hour, we can still make it back to the ship by the time your three hours have expired.”

“Do you want to stop?” Wright asked Sheri.

“It’s an hour before we get back to the ship, so I’d rather have a banana or something else to eat.”

“Where can we stop for a quick bite that isn’t out of the way?” Wright asked the driver.

“About five or six blocks from here. I could use a few minutes’ break myself. The Argyle Bar & Grill’s a nice place for a quick lunch.”

“Then we’ll go there,” Wright said

After a lunch of grilled Nova Scotia salmon, parsleyed tiny potatoes and a green salad, they headed back to the ship. “Would you stop here, please?” Wright asked the driver. “I’ll be right back.” He hoped his eyes hadn’t fooled him as he rushed back to a shop that stood inches from the edge of the road.

“I’d like two of those, please, and wrap them separately,” he said to the Native American shopkeeper.

“That was quick,” Sheri said when he slid into the seat beside her.

He handed her one of the parcels. “I thought you’d like a souvenir of your first visit to Nova Scotia.”

Her lower jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “Oh, Wright. What a nice thing for you to do.”

“Wait until you open it. Maybe you won’t like it.”

“That would be impossible,” she said, unwrapping the package. “I love presents, and I haven’t had a lot of them since my childhood years. Oh, my goodness! This is…Oh, Wright!” She looped her arms around his neck and showered his cheek with kisses.

“What are you doing?” he asked her when he felt dampness on his jaw. “Are you crying?” He didn’t want her to be sad. Didn’t she realize that her warmth and naturalness had begun to nourish his soul?

“I don’t know. Am I? Your giving me this…this lovely souvenir, something I would never otherwise have owned, touches me deeply. While you were gone, I was thinking how much I’d like to have a souvenir of this excursion. And to have this beautiful Native American doll…I’ll treasure this forever. Do you know its tribe?”

“Micmac. In language at least, they are related to the Algonquians. I’m delighted that you like it.”

“Did you buy one for yourself?”

“No. I bought one like it for my mother.”

She gazed at him with eyes that held warmth and tenderness. “Do you love your mother? I mean, is she warm and affectionate?”

That question explained a lot about the Professor Sheri Stephens who had seemed so heartless and cold. “Yes, to both questions. I must say I’m surprised you’d ask that.”

“If I’d had warm, affectionate and indulgent parents, I probably wouldn’t have asked the question. But I was a reflection of them and of their efforts to produce a child who excelled and who stood on top of the heap. Nothing short of that was acceptable. Hugs and kisses did not a perfect child make.” When his arm went around her shoulder, she relaxed against him.

“Oddly, I never thought of it that way until I started this cruise. They don’t even know that I’m not in Boston right now.” Her shoulders bunched in a quick shrug as if it didn’t matter. She hugged the doll. “Her name is Evening Star—Star, for short.”

He liked that. Somewhere inside of Professor Sheri Stephens lived a romantic woman. Hmm. Yes, you like her, but she’s got it coming, an inner voice said.

“I don’t see the point in lolling around out here when we can go on ship at any time,” he said when they arrived at the pier.

“Neither do I,” she said, took thirty Canadian dollars from her pocketbook and handed it to him.

“What’s this for?”

“You paid for our lunch, so I should at least pay for half the cost of the trip.”

“Okay, so you’re not a freeloader. I can appreciate that, but it’s my pleasure to take care of this.” Her steady gaze told him that she was wavering toward insisting that she split the fare.

“All right,” she said when he didn’t back down. “But next time, we settle it in advance.”

He could see that the professor threatened to emerge, smiled to placate her and ignored her suggestion. “Don’t forget we have a reservation for the whirlpool at three o’clock.”

“We have? I thought—”

He interrupted. “I changed it because I thought we’d enjoy the relaxation after sightseeing this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”

She seemed suddenly preoccupied, and he looked around for the yellow T-shirt, but didn’t see him. “No. I don’t mind. I’ll meet you there.”

He grinned, because laughter would have annoyed her. She didn’t want him to stop by her room for her. Fine with him. He had a good idea as to what made her tick, and he was a patient man.

Sheri left Wright at the top of the escalator on their deck, headed toward her stateroom, but made a detour to the elevator and rushed to the ship’s store. Twentyfive minutes later, she hadn’t found a bathing suit that hid more than the absolute minimum. With time at a premium, she settled for a red one in which the top at least covered half of each breast and the bottom had a back panel as well as a front piece. Back in her room, trembling as if she’d been terrorized, she put it on and forced herself to look in a mirror.

Good Lord! Was that her? She couldn’t believe it. She went to the full-length mirror on the bathroom door and gasped.

“My parents have a hell of a lot to account for,” she said aloud. “All this time, I thought I was a plain Jane. I know I have a decent face, but I’ve got one hell of a figure. Still, parading around in this thing takes more nerve than I’ve got.” She put on the white terry-cloth robe that the ship furnished, stuck her feet into her flip-flops, put her key in the pocket of her robe and headed for the whirlpool.

She entered the whirlpool room and looked around, hoping that she wouldn’t see Brian. Immediately, Wright rose from the lounge chair on which he’d been stretched out and went to meet her. Instead of reassuring her, his quick kiss on her mouth plunged her into a fit of nerves. Naked but for a G-string, he was a beauty of a man, and as she stood there ogling him, liquid accumulated in her mouth and she could hear herself swallow.

“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s go in. I can hardly wait. We’re numbers three and four.”

“I, uh. I’m not quite ready.”

“Why not? Come on. Hey, wait. Are you afraid of water?”

“No. It’s—All right.” She untied the robe, and suddenly she saw that he understood.

He took the robe from her shoulders, put it on his chair and walked back to her. “Modesty is admirable, Sheri, and I can see that you’re not accustomed to wearing these modern bathing suits. But you are stunningly beautiful from head to foot. If I say my tongue came close to falling out when I got a good look at you, I wouldn’t exaggerate one bit.”

“Let’s get in,” she said, less nervous than when she arrived. He’d said that she was beautiful, and that mattered more to her than the looks and stares of the several onlookers. He stepped in first, held out his hand to her and she followed.

“This is heaven.” She giggled happily as the warm, swirling water massaged her body. “Oh, Wright, this is fantastic.”

“It would be a lot more fun,” he said, “if we didn’t have to sit in one place. They don’t want anyone to swim or move around. Otherwise, I agree that it’s delightful.”

After half an hour—the limit allowed for a whirlpooling session—he got out, got her robe and held it when she stepped out. Then he donned his own robe, and they walked over to the fruit bar for smoothies.

“You’re a bag full of surprises, Sheri. Very pleasant surprises,” he said. “When you’re in the swimming pool area tomorrow, look at the bathing suits women are wearing. Yours is more modest than most, and not a woman there will be more attractive in one than you.” He winked at her. “Take it from a man who’s spent a lot of time looking at bathing suits.”

“Is that so? Well, I’ve just discovered that it’s something I’d enjoy doing, and I’m talking about one-piece bathing suits. Next time you plan to wear one, let me know.”

His laughter warmed her from head to foot. “I’ll be too happy to comply.”

“We don’t make port again till we get to Canso,” the bartender told them. “This is the leg of the trip when people gain the most weight.”

“How’s that?” Wright asked him.

“I guess you’d say boredom sets in, so they eat and drink. If you don’t gamble, what else can you do?”

“There’s swimming and lots of games, lectures and classes,” Sheri suggested. “Wouldn’t you say so, Wright?”

His eyes had that devilish twinkle that always intrigued her. “I’m not saying anything. In fact, I’m not going there at all.”

The bartended released a guffaw, and she looked from one man to the other. “I don’t suppose I want to know what you’re laughing about,” she said to Wright. He draped an arm across her shoulders, and she felt an urgency in his move. With a sense of unease, she glanced toward the entrance and saw Brian King walk in. Immediately on edge, she watched him walk toward them.

“Hello, Sheri,” he said, but he didn’t stop.

“Don’t tell me you sensed that guy’s presence,” Wright said.

“No. I didn’t. The way you put your arm around me gave me a sense of impending danger. I looked around and saw Brian.” She had turned to focus on Wright’s face as she said it and, from his demeanor, she realized that he had been primed for a confrontation.

“At least you’re sensitive to me.” He didn’t smile when he said it.

There’s so much that I don’t understand about men. Weeks ago, I would have dismissed Wright’s behavior right now as arrogance. After being with him these days, I suspect it’s a phenomenon of the male psyche. If males among wild animals protect their turf from other males, why shouldn’t the human male? Why can’t they find a way to do it without seeming to establish ownership? I like Wright a lot, but I don’t want him to be possessive with me. If my dad would get his head out of those books long enough to be a sympathetic and loving father, I could ask him about it. I wonder if he’d know what I was talking about.

“You’ve become pensive,” Wright said. “Is there anything wrong?” He gripped her shoulder with his left hand.

“We agree that I’m not as worldly as I may seem. I’m trying to add things up, and that isn’t easy.”

“I know you’re not as sophisticated as outward appearances suggest. I get more evidence of that almost by the hour. Ready to go? I need some time in my room before dinner. Can we meet at the same place and time?”

“I’d like that.”

He got up, lifted her from the high stool and set her on her feet. “I would have kissed you, but you had the fear of hell on your face, scared to death that I would.” He laughed and hugged her. “Never worry. My good sense rarely deserts me.”