***
Melanie could hardly believe how this evening was turning out. She hadn’t expected the kiss, at least not so soon. But it was more than welcome. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t get enough. Part of her wondered if there was a camera hidden somewhere. Any minute now, a cheesy game show host was going to jump out and yell, “You’re on Candid Camera!” And then she would find out that it was all just a ruse to see how quickly this young masseuse could get the grumpy girl to open up and let him kiss her.
But the time passed—a minute, maybe five—and no one jumped from the shadows with a camera. No one burst the beautiful dream bubble she found herself in.
Eventually, she did pull away from Devon. Not because she wanted to end the kiss, but because it was truly becoming difficult to breathe.
“Wow,” she whispered as she stared up at him. She wasn’t sure what else to say.
“My thoughts exactly.” Devon looked back at her with adoration in his eyes. Melanie couldn’t remember a time in her life when anyone had looked at her like that. It was the way every woman wanted to be looked at, as if they were the only woman in the world.
She turned toward the railing and stared out at the water. Devon’s arms came around her waist and he squeezed her tightly to him.
“I’ve been afraid, you know?” she said after a minute.
Devon pulled to the side a bit to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“Of looking like a failure. A quitter. I don’t want anyone to think I’m giving up on my dream, but…dreams change, don’t they?” Melanie felt naked all of a sudden. It wasn’t like her to share such personal thoughts with anyone, let alone a stranger that she actually liked. A lot.
“Of course they do,” he said, and his smile told her she’d done the right thing by confiding in him. “Look, life is short, Melanie. Don’t spend it doing something you hate.”
“I don’t hate it,” she said, then added, “But I don’t love it, either. Not anymore.”
“Then let it go,” Devon said. “I promise I won’t think any less of you for it.”
A warmth that started at Melanie’s toes flowed through her, all the way up to the top of her head. Maybe it was relief that someone was finally giving her permission to leave something that she’d burnt out on years ago. Or maybe it was just Devon.
She didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, or even love at first date, but she was starting to strongly believe in “very strong like” at first date.
She turned around to face him. They were practically nose-to-nose. “I have no idea what I would do.”
Devon’s smile made her heart beat a little faster. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take some time. Try to enjoy life, at least for a few days. When you get back home, you can start making lists and charts of possible careers paths.”
“How did you know I’m a list-maker?” she wondered. “Am I that obvious?”
“You have Type A written all over you.”
Melanie laughed. Maybe it was time she started to loosen up. “Well, this Type A girl wants to go dancing,” she said.
“Dancing?” Devon raised his brows at her. “I hope you brought you’re A-game, because I’m pretty smooth on the dance floor.”
“Great. I need someone who can keep up with me.”
Six
Devon couldn’t stop smiling the next day. His evening with Melanie had been one of the greatest of his entire adult life. The dinner, the walk on the deck, the dancing…man, could that girl move. Clearly, she was born to dance.
And the goodnight kiss was just as good as their first kiss. It was like they were made for each other. Their lips fit perfectly together; her body molded to his just right. For the first time in his life, Devon couldn’t imagine kissing another woman. He only wanted to kiss her. Melanie.
Another smile cracked his lips. He couldn’t wait to see her again. They had plans to meet tonight, after he got off work again. It would be late—they were docked, so people were taking advantage of the discounted spa prices, which meant Devon was booked well into the evening. But that was all right. He was on cloud nine and he was pretty sure he’d still be on it by ten p.m. that night.
As the hour approached, Devon got more and more excited about seeing Melanie again. He marveled at how this one girl had made such an impact on him in one evening. And when he saw her standing outside the door to the spa, his entire body lit up.
“Hey you,” he said as he walked out into the balmy evening.
She smiled up at him. “Hey yourself.”
Without hesitation, he swooped down and planted a kiss on her lips. When he pulled back, he asked, “Would it be totally lame of me to say that I missed you today?”
“A little,” she teased. “But, um, I missed you too.” She blushed to her roots. Clearly that was a tough thing for her to admit. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m a little hungry. You up for some pizza?”
They walked to the promenade, hand in hand. The pizza shop was open 24-hours and served up cheese and pepperoni slices at all hours of the night. It was buzzing, even at ten o’clock, and 50s bee-bop music played in the background.
Devon and Melanie snuggled into a booth with their slices and sodas, then told each other about their days. Devon admittedly didn’t have much to tell—back-to-back clients from morning till night with hardly a minute for lunch. Not the most exciting day on record.
Melanie, however, had explored Bermuda with her friends. They had drinks at the famous Swizzle Inn and toured the perfumery before coming back to the ship for dinner and the show. Devon was glad she’d had such a great day, but part of him was disappointed he hadn’t gotten to enjoy it with her.
When their pizza was gone and their fingers sufficiently licked of the grease, they decided to take a late-night dip in the hot tub. Devon tried to keep his tongue in his mouth when he saw Melanie in her bathing suit. It didn’t reveal much—clearly she was a modest girl—but it revealed enough to get his blood pumping. Her legs were long and toned, and the plunging neckline revealed just a little of her creamy breasts. She certainly left plenty to his imagination, and now his imagination was running away with him.
The hot tub was deserted, which Devon couldn’t quite understand. Late night hot-tubbing on the open seas under a full moon was one of the most romantic scenarios he could imagine. Why the tub wasn’t littered with lovers was beyond him.
Not that he was complaining.
Melanie climbed in first and he slid into the hot water after her. It bubbled around them, warm and effervescent. He’d barely sunk fully into the water when Melanie appeared before him, close enough to kiss. But she didn’t kiss him; she just stared at him with those big eyes, her mouth slightly open. She couldn’t have been clearer had she sent him an invitation in the mail that read: YOU ARE INVITED TO KISS ME!
Devon didn’t hesitate another moment. He grabbed her around the waist and drew her closer until she was sitting sideways on his lap. Her skin was slick beneath his hands, and her breasts pressed up against his chest, firm and buoyant. His lips landed on hers and she immediately opened for him. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pressed even harder against his mouth, as if the kiss wasn’t deep enough or their bodies close enough. Devon couldn’t help but be aroused by the sensuality of the position or the excitement of being in a public place. Eventually, they would have to take it inside—probably sooner rather than later.
He could hear the muted sounds of people chatting as they walked the deck nearby, but he paid them no mind. All his attention was on—
“Mister Matthews!”
Devon sucked in a breath and pulled quickly from the kiss. He turned abruptly to his left only to find his boss, Eugenia, glaring at him from outside the hot tub. Great.
“Boss, how’s it going?” he asked, trying to be nonchalant about the situation, but fairly certain he was failing.
“I will see you in my office in fifteen minutes.” W
ith that, she strode away and didn’t look back.
“Oh, my God,” Melanie said. “I’m so sorry. Are you going to be fired?”
Devon chuckled. “Nah. I’ll probably just get a scolding. But…” He looked up at her. “It was totally worth it.”
A smile came to Melanie’s lips. “I’m glad.”
Devon wanted to kiss her again, but the clock was ticking, and he had a long walk back to his room to get a shirt. He wasn’t about to meet with his boss in nothing but a pair of wet shorts.
“I better get going,” he said, truly disappointed for the night to come to an end.
“Okay.” Melanie seemed just as bummed. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
Devon smiled and planted a quick kiss on her lips. “Definitely.”
Twenty minutes later, Devon stood at his boss’s desk in an office at the back of the spa.
“You’re late.”
“It’s not a small ship.”
Eugenia was not amused. “I do believe you signed our contract, Mr. Matthews, so you should know that fornicating with passengers is strictly prohibited…especially in public.”
Devon wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had been caught red-handed—there wasn’t any point denying what she saw.
“You’re fired, Mr. Matthews. You will collect your things and leave the ship immediately. You will be taken to the airport where you will wait on standby for the next flight to New York.”
Okay, now he had something to say. “What do you mean, I’m leaving immediately? Don’t I at least get some kind of warning? A second chance?”
“You signed a contract, Mr. Matthews. And this is policy. My hands are tied.”
Devon stared at the woman, dumbfounded. What was he going to do about Melanie? “Can I at least make a call first?” he asked as two security guards entered the room.
“I’m afraid not. You can call your friend when you get back on land.”
Except he didn’t know her last name or how to find her once he was back in New York. Damn it!
“Goodbye, Mr. Matthews,” Eugenia said. “Safe travels.”
Seven
Melanie went immediately to the spa the next morning to find Devon. She wanted to make sure he hadn’t gotten into any trouble because of her—she would feel terrible if he had.
The front desk girl greeted her with a smile. “Hi, do you have an appointment?”
“Um, no. Actually, I’m looking for Devon. Is he here?”
The girl scrunched her face up and whispered, “Devon was let go. But I can get you an appointment with one of our other masseuses. They’re all just as qualified as Devon.”
Melanie could hardly breathe. He’d been let go? “But what does that mean? Is he still on the ship?”
“Unfortunately not. He’s probably back in New York by now. Although, he could still be at the airport. They make you fly standby, you know?”
The airport. They were docked in Bermuda for another eight hours or so. That was plenty of time to take a cab to the airport and back.
“Thanks for all your help!” Melanie cried as she left the spa. She ran all the way back to her room, grabbed her backpack and dashed to the ship’s exit.
Once she was in the taxi bound for the airport, she sat back and took a breath. It would be fine. Everything would turn out okay. She would find Devon, he would forgive her, and they would exchange numbers so they could meet up in New York in a few days.
And then they would live happily ever after.
Ha! Who was she kidding? She’d known the guy less than four days, and while they’d had an amazing time together, he probably thought nothing of it. Certainly Devon had gone out with prettier, more interesting girls in his life—Melanie was more than likely just another notch in his belt.
But still…she had to find him. She had gotten him fired. An apology was the least she could do.
The taxi let her off outside the departures gate of the Bermuda International Airport. Melanie hastily settled her bill and then dashed inside, headed for—
For what? Where was she supposed to go now? And would they even let her inside the terminal? If not, she had no hope of finding Devon.
She approached an empty ticket counter where a woman in an American Airlines uniform greeted her with a sweet smile.
“Hello, passport, please.”
“Oh, I’m not flying, actually. I just…I need to find someone. He’s in the terminal. I think. Is there anyway to get through to find him?”
The pretty blonde tilted her head to the side with a sad puppy-dog face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. The only way to get to the terminal is to have a ticket. But I could page him for you, if you like.”
Yes! Why hadn’t she thought of that before? “That would be wonderful. Thank you so much.”
The woman picked up the intercom. “His name?”
“Devon,” Melanie said, and then she had to wrack her brain for his last name. What had his boss called him? For the life of her, she couldn’t remember. She’d been in a lustful daze at the time. “Just…Devon,” she finally said, defeated.
“Certainly, ma’am.” She pressed a button and a loud ding echoed through the airport. “Would a Mr. Devon please report to security? Mr. Devon?”
Mr. Devon? Would he even know that was for him?
The blonde replaced the intercom and then turned to Melanie. “If he’s here, he’ll meet you at the security gate. Just head that way and follow the signs.”
“Thank you so much,” Melanie said, hoping to find him waiting there when she arrived.
But she didn’t. And after twenty minutes of waiting, she decided he’d probably already boarded a plane bound for New York. Either that or he thought the call was truly for someone with the last name of Devon.