Forbidden (2 page)

Chapter Two

Out on the deck having a beer with her staff friends usually proved the best time of the day. Staff members had an alcohol allowance, two drinks a night, in the bars and clubs on the ship. The crew members had to drink their two drinks in the crew deck bar. So, typically, staff were friends with staff members, and crew were friends with crew members, especially given they didn’t even sleep on the same decks and didn’t have the same privileges. She knew how lucky she had it to get to utilize the ship, other than the pool, on her off hours each day.

Plus, she’d made some great friends in her two months here, so far. Eric, the other personal trainer, remained her best friend on the ship. She also got her fill of girl talk with the other instructors in the gym and the spa workers. In fact, she’d spent so much time with Hillary, a massage therapist on board, she’d practically told the woman her entire life story.

What else was there to do but have a few drinks and over-share when you weren’t working? Sure, they could visit port to leave the ship, but the same happened there, eat, drink, and talk, maybe shop. She saved her money, but enjoyed the window shopping, while her co-workers spent every dime they had.

Since she loved her work, this entire job had kind of been one long party. Still, tonight she found herself searching the crowds around her for a tall, dark, and muscular mystery man with long, black curls and eyes that should glow at night like some demon. Even if she spotted him, his tattoos would probably be covered by a shirt of some sort. Just the thought made her frown.

“What’s your problem tonight?” Eric asked, placing a strong hand on her shoulder.

The guy had a grip, even for her strength. He treated her like one of the guys, his equal in the gym, even if he lifted many, many more pounds than her. She loved him for that. Blond hair and blue eyes, muscles that even a shirt couldn’t conceal, he got hit on by the guests several times each day, and more times each night. So, she relieved herself of her burden, figuring he’d understand. Hell, she’d even heard he’d gotten away with bedding a few guests on the sly. Though they’d never discussed the matter outside of a satire-like, joke of a conversation, she knew there to be some truth too.

“Let me ask you something?” She gathered her courage, pulling him aside from their crowd to talk into the wind, toward him and away from eager ears and gossiping mouths.
Loose lips sink ships.
T
he phrase had never mattered to her one iota before now.

“Shoot,” he offered, when they were in a more private position.

“I’ve seen the female guests all but throw themselves at you. Hell, I think I’ve seen a few practically dry hump you on the deck. But, whatever, that’s beside the point. My real question is, how do you handle those situations?”

“Some guy try to have his way with you today, Sam?” he asked with a wink and an all-white teethed smile. He’d have been one for a good romp with her if they hadn’t become such fast, immediate friends.

“Not really, but there was this spark, and I’m finding myself scanning the crowds for him, even though, one, I probably won’t even see him again, and two, even if I did, I couldn’t do anything but talk to him.” She inhaled deeply after her long string of words, and then sighed out her exhale.

“And, I get the impression you want to do more than just talk with this guy,” he teased as he settled against the railing, one foot propped up on the bottom rung, one arm resting across the top one.

He shook his head, but his eyes sparkling in the lights showed his approval.

“Actually, yes. This is my first time too. I mean, at being not just attracted, but seemingly obsessed with a guy I met once. Is it the forbidden thing, or the fact that opposites attract? Because, I had about nothing in common with the guy except the fact he was working out. And, truthfully, between only you and me, I’m as interested in getting to know more about him, as I am in wrapping my legs around the guy. What’s up with that?” she said, and shrugged.

“I couldn’t say, but I’ve never seen you so flustered. I love it.” He laughed, putting his free arm around her, and as he came back to standing, pulling her to him for a brotherly hug. “You know, it’s been said some of us have gotten away with a few one night stands on this ship. You just have to wait for an empty hallway and keep your head down going in and out of the room. It’s done. Successfully, I might add.”

Having said all that into her ear as he held her, he kissed the top of her head and released. Then, he settled right back into his lax position against the rail.

“Right. I’d get caught,” she grumbled, biting her lip just enough to cause herself a distracting pain she hoped would bring her back into the real world.

“Hey, where’s that adventurer I know so well. I’m surprised with that kind of life challenge you aren’t hunting this guy down like you have every other thing you’ve done in your life,” he teased, eyebrows raised.

“Good try, but no…”

He cut her off, “I know, you’re adventurous but not a rule-breaker. Can’t blame a guy for trying. I know this is a great gig, but you could work anywhere on land if you lost this job. That’s what I’ve told myself, anyway, while breaking the rules screwing a guest. I’m only going to be young, and this good looking, once.” He laughed as he bumped her arm with his fist.

While his words sounded conceited, he didn’t have an arrogant bone in his body. Though, with his looks and fitness, who could blame him for speaking the truth? If you took the time to get to know him, he got even cuter. Plus, he’d just given her the answer she’d wanted. He kissed her cheek, then, with a wink, moved toward Kim who’d been giving her the stink-eye since walking onto the deck. Must be after ten, then, as Kim performed in the musical onboard.

She looked out over the water, never tiring of the look of the wake from the aft balcony of the ship. She remembered learning to ski as a young girl on a tiny lake, her best attempts often thwarted by the wake of the boat. Though it had looked large and scary to her then, it seemed nothing in comparison to the waves created by this tiny town on water.

With this Jaws guy, it was far more than just wanting to screw him. Though she did, ached for him in the core of her being, she wanted to know more about him, about what he did, what he liked, what his life was like as a rich kid, what he dreamed, and more. Sure, it’d take the rest of this cruise and more to quench not just her desire to learn about what made him tick, but her desire to touch every inch of his solid form, to investigate every segment of his darkness, to discover his light. She shifted her weight, leaned heavily against the rail. The moon, nearly full, energized her needs, sugarcoated not only the scenery but her dreams of him.

“Samantha,” a deep voice said behind her, causing her breath to hitch.

She turned to find a stranger. Yet, after a few seconds, her brain started to work out the disguise.

“Jaws?” she asked.

The eyes gave him away.

He stood before her in a grey suit, with a white shirt, and shiny black tie to match his hair. The hair, shiny and combed, now tied back tightly at the nape of his neck, made him look distinguished, yet still fierce. Sexy and dark, his look, his demeanor, took on a whole new meaning as it peered out from such a dignified outfit. Damn. She considered herself a goner. Now, he looked mafia and then some. Maybe hit man. Maybe CIA. Her action-adventure mind went into high gear. He could toss her overboard and swim her to some deserted island, and she may just thank him by ripping off his expensive suit to see the full view of him naked before her.

“Yes. I waited to say something, thinking maybe that guy was a boyfriend, but then he walked away with that redhead arm in arm, so I thought it safe to talk to you,” he admitted, the sigh of relief audible in his voice.

“Oh, right, Eric. He’s the other PT on board. He looks out for me like a brother. He was just giving me some friendly, though probably bad, advice. Anyway, good to see you again. You clean up nice, though going back to thoughts of mafia now.” She giggled and hated herself for the schoolgirl way it had come out. She wanted to flirt in the worst way, so reigning herself in wasn’t what she called attractive, or even sane sounding.

“Nope, still a gamer geek, not a cold-blooded killer. Not my choice of clothing, but sometimes I have to play the good son. I keep up appearances best I can, for my parents benefit. Can’t wait to get out of this monkey suit, to tell the truth.”

And, she wanted him out of it. She wanted those black curls that gleamed in the moonlight out of that band, as well, so she could run her fingers through them.

“I’ll admit to missing the tattoos.” She sighed, and then blushed. “But, that’s nice of you to do. I get it. My parents wanted more of a teacher or nurse than a yoga queen and meditative freak, as I once overheard my dad call me. They also wanted me close to home for holidays and cookouts, but I’ve let them down time and again. In their minds, they’re still waiting for me to grow up and settle down, closer to them preferably. Though, at this point, they would probably settle for just the settling down.”

“I wish my parents did cookouts. Mine want me in a suit every day, in an office next to my father’s, making grandchildren in between corporate mergers and black tie events.” He groaned, using his arms to gesture up and down the body she couldn’t seem to stop looking at.

“Hmm, sorry, I can’t relate other than to the grandchildren part. It doesn’t get better than hot dogs and beers at my family events. Lucky if I get to dip my toes in the baby pool of my sisters kids for true entertainment.” She laughed, suddenly a tad uncomfortable, more in the what must he think of me, as in, my life, than the usual, what must he think of me, as in, appearance.

“Sounds fantastic. I get to attend a few get togethers like that now. The guys I work with, some married with kids and others eternal bachelors, have cookouts. I’d take a hotdog and beer any day over the endless dinner we had in the Compass Rose dining room tonight.”

“Ah, yes, five star dining. Can’t say I’ve been. We get to eat lunch and dinner at the buffet thirty minutes before closing, and all our other meals are taken in the crew mess on the upper crew deck. I’ve heard good things from the guests, though.”

“Sure. Tonight our appetizer, compliments of the chef, was four balls of some raw meat drizzled in some sticky crap. Didn’t even stick my fork in it, much to my father’s dismay. But, yes, they matched my wine to first my appetizer, then there was salad, and then they matched wine to a first and second course. Of course, I got cognac with my crème Brule for dessert. That was good, at least.”

“I’d think you were bragging, except you said the name of each course between gritted teeth.” She slanted her head to the side as she narrowed her brows. “Not the dining experience you wished for, then?”

“Not the trip I wished for either, but I file away such events in my head as work, family obligation and all. I vacation when I go to my real job. It’s the backward way my world works.”

“James Alexander,” a woman spoke as her hand landed on Jaws’ arm. “I wondered where you’d gone off to. Suzanne has been looking for you. We are about to retire for the night.”

Had to be his mother. The same shade of jet-black hair, pulled into a tight up-do, shape of eyes, all looked incredibly glamorous on her, like she’d just stepped out of the world’s incredibly rich and famous magazine, or whatever they called such a thing.

“Mother, this is Samantha,” Jaws or James said, motioning his hand toward her.

“Nice to meet you.” The woman put out her hand to shake.

“Samantha, this is my mother, Victoria Whitmore,” James continued as Sam shook the woman’s hand for the two seconds she’d been allowed.

Sam put it all together in her mind as mother pleaded with her son to escort some other woman back to her cabin. Jaws stood for James Alexander Whitmore with some roman numerals, no doubt, after it, hence the “s” in Jaws. He looked more a James Alexander in this suit and tie, but Jaws suited the ferocious good looks, with tattoos she couldn’t get out of her mind, so much more.

Crisp, clean, yet, still dark and rugged, even in a white, silk shirt he impressed her. In fact, he won a piece of her heart the way he treated his mother with respect, with a little giving in, but not enough to have to do her bidding. The woman left appeased, loved even if not with her desired outcome. Not quite sure what he’d whispered in the woman’s ear, Victoria had granted Sam the briefest smile before James kissed her cheek and sent her away.

****

While he hadn’t told his mother the first thing about Sam, he’d whispered the truth in her ear, knowing just that tidbit of information would thrill the woman enough to leave him alone. As unexplainable as it all was, as he’d shared with his mother, if ever there had been a moment to explore if the whole love at first sight thing was a reality or fantasy, with this woman, now was the time.

Victoria Whitmore would have questions tomorrow, once her interfering—in the most loving, I-want-what’s-best-for-my-wealthy-son—motherly way, got to mulling over his secret. There would be time enough over breakfast to disappoint her with facts of Sam’s life that he intended to learn more of. His mother, a product of her world, loved him, and thus, her wanting what’s best for him didn’t include some average girl. Of course, he saw Sam as far from average. In fact, she couldn’t be more spectacular and down to earth normal if she tried. Tonight, he just wanted to spend some time with ship worker, Sam. Whatever time he could manage.

“Sorry about that. She means well, she truly does. But, she’s also a woman accustomed to getting what she wants, when she wants it. So, you just have to know how to deal with her, to make her happy without giving up your own life in the process. Sometimes, it’s best to appease her for the moment with a barest minimum of the truth, and face her inevitable disappointment at a later date. I think I’m the only spot in her life where getting what she wants is a challenge,” he shared by way of apology as he directed Sam to an empty section of outdoor furniture.

He sat beside her on a sofa that gave them a clear view of the water just past the two empty seats facing them. No one would dare sit there, and that’s just the way he wanted it, for them to look like a couple who wanted to be alone.

“I think you acted wonderful with her. She was happy. I try to do the same with my parents, appease them for as long as I can without giving up my own dreams. I give in, as often as I can, to visit, to make them happy, to pay them back for all they’ve given me. Still, in the end, when it really counts, I follow my own heart. I think, even if it doesn’t match their wishes for me, at least they respect me for following my own dreams to some extent, even if they see them as a young woman’s whims. Well, look at me go on like some sappy Hallmark movie. Sorry, I was just touched by how you treated her. I think you can tell a lot by how a man treats his mother. Okay, well, I’ll really shut up now.”

She took in a long breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. He figured that to be a yoga thing she would be into. He understood. He couldn’t seem to find a moment of peace sitting with this woman. She stirred up the best kind of stress though, all sexual tension and romantic need wrapped up in a simple awe of her natural beauty.

“Don’t stop. I love to hear you talk. You need another drink?” he asked before he got too comfortable, or too into interrogating her about her life without making it seem as if he were doing so.

He just wanted to know everything about her, and right now. Time seemed to be too much of the essence with only a few days left on this boat before they went their separate ways. Regardless, he wanted to dive right in, make every second count. Then maybe he’d spend his inheritance buying this boat and docking it right outside of the town he lived in.

Such ridiculous thoughts should’ve scared him, but not this time, not with her. Maybe he should go to his room and think on that, find some fear and leave this woman alone. Of course, that would be the sane thing for a wanna-be introvert like himself to do. His family had never let him give into his natural whims enough. But, rather than being desperate to run and hide, this time, in this moment, he didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want a game. He didn’t want anything but to be with a woman he’d soon probably never see again.

Throwing caution, and his geeky ways, to the strong breeze this ship created, he turned his attention back to the angel beside him who hadn’t answered his question as he stood up to go to the bar.

“Drink?” he repeated.

“Ah, no. I haven’t reached my work limit, but still, I think, no.”

“They limit your drinks?”

“They have rules for everything. Keeps the ship running smoothly and actually allows us more freedoms in the end, if that makes sense.”

“Sure. I guess so.” He shrugged, amazed by the depth of thought it took to give into authority to a degree to gain more freedoms in the end.

He’d thought on it himself before, the whole rules and independence interplay. Hell, it was the theme of his existence, when to give, when to bend, when to stick up your middle finger and move on.

“When I get back, I want to hear more about your ship life,” he added.

“Okay, but it’s not really that exciting.”

“Just give me a minute,” he rushed through the words, and then off in the direction of the bar.

He forced himself not to run. He hated to waste time, but he needed a bit more liquid courage to keep going. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d used hard liquor to get through an evening, only this time was the first he’d been the one to want it, to want to socialize, befriend, and just maybe fall in love.

Though ladies threw themselves at him often, it’d never mattered how he acted. They were just after his father’s money. Sam, on the other hand, she would judge him for just who he was, and this new development scared the shit out of him. He couldn’t skate by on looks or bank accounts with her. The facts, as his brain had just presented them to him, made his true loner personality manifest in ways it hadn’t been allowed in many years of meeting the women his parents had chosen for him. The true difference, before he hadn’t cared what the women thought of him, now all he could think about was what she might be thinking of him.

A big gulp of whiskey created a nice burn in his throat as he sat down beside her again. He thanked the gods he had a rugged exterior that, in this day and age, prevented most from getting close enough to realize what a game-loving, fantasy guy he truly was. Truth remained, before he’d rather create a fictional world than live in the real elite place of the wealthy and entitled he’d been born into.

With another gulp, he knew Sam would see though it all, and he prayed to whomever would listen to him, she’d still want to talk to him after.

“So, tell me more about you, your full name, where you’re from, how you got to be working here?” he questioned, forgetting to act all manly and aloof about it.

“You want my social security number too?” She laughed.

The light sound shook him to his core. He wanted to kiss her in the worst way, but first he had to get to know her without sounding like his father interviewing a potential employee.

“Sorry, didn’t mean it to sound like a job interview, just really curious. I hope you’ll take that as a compliment. It’s meant as one, not an interrogation.”

“James…Jaws, not sure what to call you, are you used to getting what you want as well?”

“Call me whatever you like,” he groaned a tad, trying to keep the exasperation with himself and the situation out of his voice.

“Okay, Alex it is, then?”

“Ah, not if you want me to actually answer.” He smiled. “And, that has nothing to do with me getting or not getting my way. Just never been called that before.”

In her way, she’d made him relax with her simple tease. Everything about her exuded peace and serenity, as well as some primitive sexual energy. Shit. He hoped he survived the night. The ache in his loin accented the thumping of his heart.

“Jaws works for me,” she added, interrupting his focus on certain body parts yelling to get in on the conversation. “Though we may have to get you out of these clothes and into something more like you had on this morning. The name suited you, hair down, tats showing, although, you look really nice this way too. You ever feel like you live two different lives?” She furrowed her brows at him.

“All the time.” He sighed heavily.

Watching the flush take her face, in this light it added an otherworldly shine to her features, he couldn’t help but wonder if her blush was caused by the same words about getting him out of his clothes that had heated his own skin. In a shirt and tie, he was literally hot under the collar, now, though no anger surfaced, just pure, brutal need.

“But, back to you,” he added quickly, before she asked him to elaborate on such a thing. “Tell me anything, any bit you feel you want to share. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

“I would assume not,” she mused, eyebrows arching. “But, actually I don’t mind. I was just teasing you. Anyway, not a lot to tell. I was born Samantha Elizabeth Downing. Elizabeth is a family name, my grandmother’s on my mom’s side, actually. My family still lives in the same house I was raised in, that sits on a hill in a small town on the Ohio River. I went to LA to get a personal trainer certificate right after high school. I was good enough at school, and my parents wanted college for me, but I just couldn’t stand the thought of another four years, or more, cooped up in classrooms. After I got my PT certification, I worked in a California gym for a while as I worked on specialties for my certification like, nutrition and weight loss, as well as mind-body fitness. That’s how I got into yoga.”

“Impressive, a real health nut. It shows, in a good way. Without sounding too much like a guy, your body is amazing, not a muscle-bound female, but a perfect mix of fitness and curves. Sorry, I’ve said too much, I’m sure, but, what the hell, when will we see each other again?” He left off, the idea of that brought his fast-paced pulse to a dead stop for a second.

“No, don’t apologize. I get the whole easy to talk to a stranger thing. I like it. Maybe that’s why I don’t stay put much. So, let me then say thank you for such a nice compliment. I enjoy taking care of myself. I could go on and on about what I saw of your body earlier too, but not without humiliating myself. Anyway...” she stressed the word before rapidly changing the subject. “Actually, I wasn’t always this way. My mother fed us for every occasion. Every holiday and event had to do with the menu. Nothing fancy like you are used to, but she’s an amazing cook. I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t healthy either, as I learned in my health class in high school. It was kind of one thing led to another after that, and then it gave me an out, as in out of town, out of college, out on some new adventure, and all that”

“I admire that, a woman who loves an adventure, not one that involves five star hotels, either, but real life excursions. So, did you go to school in LA for the yoga too?” he asked, more interested in this woman than he’d ever been in any other individual, period.

So real, so down to earth, so hot-blooded American, she excited him on principle alone. Even the poor girls, in his mother’s definition, which meant without great fortune, he’d met in his life had only wanted the lifestyle he could provide them with. Not him. Not anything real.

“No, actually, by then I was an adventure junkie,” she admitted. “I needed another adventure. Catering to the bodies of the rich and famous was not for me. I know that’s basically what I’m doing on this ship again, but it’s a sacrifice for a whole other type of adventure. Anyway, I went to Bali for twenty-three days of yoga teacher training at an organic retreat center in a tropical valley away from tourists. I studied
sadhana
yoga, the yoga of spiritual practice. That whole time, that entire place, was just amazing. At the center, my room had a sliding glass door with those long flowing, white curtains that framed a scene of lush foliage like you see in ads for spas. I even had the most amazing outdoor, private bathroom, stone walls with a simple, white tub and sink with no ceiling. Just the sun and clouds above me. You haven’t lived until you’ve soaked well-used muscles in a hot bathtub as a tropical storm pours into your bathroom. Sorry, you asked?” She finished with a shrug.

“No, not at all. I love to hear someone else besides me get so truly excited by what they do,” he admitted, thinking he could easily be in love with this unexplainable wonder of a female. “Go on, please.”

“Well, there isn’t much more to tell. During that training time we also got massages and spa treatments. We went on temple excursions, and other short trips during the evening hours. I’m thinking, actually, a massage therapy certificate may be my next venture. Who knows, if I keep living simple, saving, maybe one day I could open my own health center. A dream this cruise job is helping. I love getting to see new places with free room and board, only having to work a few hours of each day. Let’s me live rather extravagantly while still saving my money.”

“Sounds great. I can’t believe you‘ve done all of that.”

“I’m lucky. I know that. It’s suited me well. So, now, tell me about you. It’s only fair,” she baited him, her head to the side again, her hair creating a gossamer cloud around her face.

“Well, you know my name, James Alexander Whitmore III, known to my friends and work team as Jaws. Like I said before, I’m a software engineer. I design and implement computer programs. Most are high fantasy, RPG, war or battle type situations. I started writing small sections of fairly simple computer code for CGI, that’s part of a much larger system, a few years back, and then got to do more system design. Now, I work on about fifty percent design and fifty percent code. Probably doesn’t sound that exciting. Geek, I know.”

“I’ll never understand how you can call yourself a geek, or how anyone that looks at you would dare to. Actually, that all sounds pretty impressive to me. I didn’t understand all the words you said, exactly, and that made it sound even more impressive. I’m an action movie junkie. I think I mentioned that already. I watch, you create and play. No big difference, and I don’t consider myself a geek. I’ve seen the commercials for some of those kinds of games, war and fantasy, I think you said, and they’re pretty damn impressive. Oh, sorry, women probably don’t cuss a lot in your world, and they can probably come up with a better word than
impressive
. Me, I have a mouth like an uneducated sailor when I’m not watching myself,” she exclaimed, then covered her face with her hands.