Destination Love. Gwynne Forster
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“In your dreams, pal.”
“You mean, it didn’t?”
“Well, if truth were known, I followed a trail of gold coins straight to you,” she said.
“Did that same trail of gold put you in that line next to me last night?”
She placed her knife and fork on the sides of her plate. “Are you teasing or being mean? I want to know how to react.”
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I tease rather roughly sometimes. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“It’s all right. If I appear worldly, it is very misleading.”
Dalton hadn’t expected such a frank admission of naiveté from Sheri Stephens. He had suspected that she lived in a closed world, but until now he wouldn’t have believed that a woman of her accomplishments and intelligence hadn’t cultivated any aspect of her life other than her intellect. So this genius with statistics knew nothing of life! Well, he’d teach her, and he’d be just as kind to her as she was to him. When he had her begging for relief, he would look down in her face, tell her who he really was and laugh.
He didn’t recall having done a deliberately mean thing in his adult life; indeed, he considered kindness and generosity critical elements of his personality. But no one had weakened his spirit and dented his estimation of his self-worth as Sheri Stephens had with her petty demands that he revise the conclusions in his dissertation. Of course, she wasn’t the first professor to sacrifice a good student in order to make herself seem clever. If any of the other examiners had agreed with her, he wouldn’t have held it against her, but not one of them did. The humiliation he’d suffered was an experience he’d never forget. It came back to him then.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Lansing. To be associated with the distinguished scholars at the Brookings Institute is more than I had dared dream of, but I won’t be eligible because I won’t graduate until July or August.”
Lansing’s gasp reached him over the wire. “This can’t be true. Your chairman said you were the best student he’d ever had, and that your graduation was a certainty.”
“Thank you, sir. One of my examiners is demanding that I revise my conclusions, and I have to comply.”
“That’s true, and I am so terribly sorry. Needless to say, I wish you the best.”
“You’re so pensive all of a sudden, Wright. Is anything the matter?” Sheri asked him.
“I just remembered something that wasn’t too pleasant, but let’s not dwell on anything negative. When I signed on for this cruise, I decided to enjoy everything it offered outside of the gaming rooms, and that definitely includes this delicious breakfast.” Which consisted of a stack of four waffles and a ring of sausage around them. He’d seen the time when the food in his plate would have fed the members of his family and left them grateful. Fortunately, both he and his younger brother were able to ensure their parents a comfortable living, and they had surely earned the right to it.
“How are you planning to spend the day, Sheri? I want to write for at least a couple of hours.”
“If you write this morning while I’m at the hairdresser, we could meet for lunch. I told myself I was going to take clogging lessons this afternoon. Don’t ask me why.”
“Clogging? Good idea. The exercise will rid me of the calories I’m ingesting. What time are the classes?”
“Three to four this afternoon and nine to eleven in the morning. If we eat at twelve or twelve-thirty, it should be all right to clog at three.”
“Right. I’ll meet you here at twelve-thirty,” he said. “Stay away from that guy in the yellow T-shirt.”
Her frown surprised him. She shouldn’t have taken that comment seriously. He’d have to be more careful.
“Why should I stay away from him?” she asked. “So far, he’s seemed harmless.”
He flashed a grin. “No man is completely harmless. Don’t forget that.”
He held her hand as they left the dining room. “I’ll see you here at twelve-thirty. Have fun at the spa. I’ll be writing out there on the back deck. Nobody goes there. It’s so peaceful, and the view is great.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. When she stood on tiptoe to make it easier for him, he stifled a laugh. It hadn’t taken her long to get used to it.
Sheri rushed back to her stateroom and phoned the spa for an appointment with a hairdresser. “Do you have a hairdresser who’s familiar with processed African-American hair?”
“Of course, madam,” a man said. “What time would you like to come?”
“Right now.”
She got the appointment and walked into what she would have described as a silver cove with crystal chandeliers, white floors and red roses. This looks like the perfect setting for debauchery, she said to herself. A few months earlier, she would most certainly have turned around and walked out.
“For two hundred fifty dollars, madam may have a massage, mud bath and facial in addition to a shampoo, trim and style.” A man dressed in a black T-shirt, skintight black pants and black sneakers told her.
“I don’t have that much time,” she said. “I only want my hair done.”
She got back to the dining room at exactly twelve-thirty. But, to her chagrin, Brian King waylaid her. “I’m sorry, Mr. King, but I’m meeting someone for lunch, and I’m about to be late.”
“For a woman like you, it ought to be his pleasure to wait. Will you have a drink with me at six this evening, since we have fixed dinner arrangements?”
She glanced toward the table that she and Wright shared that morning and saw that he leaned back in his chair observing them. “I’m sorry, but this amounts to rudeness on my part. I’m late, and he sees me talking with you. Goodbye.”
Wright stood as she approached. His smile eliminated some of her anxiety. “Sorry, but I got waylaid.”
“So I saw. Are you interested in him?”
“I’ve gotten the impression, wrongly or not, that he’s interested in getting me in bed, and I—”
He grabbed her left hand. “Wait a minute. And you think I’m not? You think I’m not attracted to you?”
“W-well, I d-didn’t th-think about it,” she stammered.
He grinned, winked and put his hand on his chest as if to decelerate his heartbeat. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“At least you’re not blatant about it.”
His gaze roamed over her. “Your hair is beautiful. That style really suits you. But then, you’d look good if you never went to a hairdresser,”