it sashayed out of sight.
Now what was that all about? he wondered, turning and walking in the opposite direction. Was this what he was in for all week? Single women looking for unattached males? Or maybe that one had just watched too many reruns of “Love Boat.” Either way, he’d keep to himself and watch what he said. One thing was certain. He wouldn’t let on he was a doctor. Why women found that a turn-on, he’d never understand. How many birthday dinners or concerts or parties had he been dragged away from for a patient’s needs? Unless it was the money, he couldn’t imagine what attracted them.
He stopped and looked down at the water churning below. He’d thought Jessica understood the long hours and constant interruptions. Apparently, she hadn’t.
Jessica. She’d always wanted to take a cruise, but he’d forever been too busy. Damn. When was he going to stop beating himself up over the past? He walked on, staring blindly at his loafers. Maybe this trip had been a mistake.
After changing her mind three times, Michelle settled on a silk pantsuit. The pants were cut full, the top long. The watercolor fabric in soft shades of fern green complemented her burnished hair, which she wore down tonight, the blunt-cut ends brushing her shoulders.
She stood back from the mirror behind the door and made a final inspection. Even with low-heeled pumps, she thought she looked taller than her five feet five inches. The fact that she’d lost ten pounds since Christmas added to the long, clean lines of her outfit. Months of swimming and water aerobics had paid off. Without thinking, her hand moved over her flat stomach. She could probably get away with clothes like this for several months.
She jerked her hand away and turned from the mirror. It was too soon to think this way. It was one thing to think positive, but if she continued to assume it was a done deal, she could be setting herself up for a major disappointment.
She looked at the small clutch purse on the bed, then decided to leave it behind. There was no need for money, and if her lipstick wore off, oh, well.
The Windward Dining Room was midship, two levels down. Michelle sauntered along the halls and stairway, marveling at the architectural splendor—teak rails, hand-laid tile mosaics, marble statuary, art deco murals. A person could get used to this. At the entrance to the dining room, Michelle retrieved her seat assignment card from her pants pocket and handed it to the tuxedo-clad maître d’.
She followed him up the right side, weaving her way through the lively crowd, losing sight of him toward the end. She kept moving and found him again, standing behind an empty chair at a rectangular table for six. On the side facing her she saw a young couple who had the starry-eyed look of honeymooners, seated next to a kind-faced, blue-haired woman of about seventy. Across from her she could see the back of another woman about the same age who looked as if she’d visited the same beautician. Next to her was a man. In the few seconds it took to reach her seat, she couldn’t figure out where he fit in.
Michelle’s chair was no sooner pushed in than the young man in front of her extended his hand across the table.
“Welcome aboard. I’m Mark, and this is my beautiful bride, Kathy.”
Kathy elbowed her husband and giggled before lowering her lashes. “We just got married last night,” she said shyly.
“Congratulations!” Enjoy it while you can, she wanted to add but didn’t. “I’m Michelle.” She clasped each of their hands in turn.
The older woman spoke next, her gaze lingering on the new bride beside her. “Isn’t it romantic?” Then she turned her attention to Michelle. “My name’s Millie, and this is my sister Hazel.” Millie’s head shook involuntarily, reminding Michelle of Katharine Hepburn’s later years. “Nice to meet you, Michelle.” Too far to reach, both women offered friendly waves with bejeweled freckled hands.
“Nice to meet you both.” Michelle could see the mischief dancing in their eyes, not certain what they were up to, but deciding instantly she liked the pair.
Millie laced her fingers in front of her chest and smiled expectantly. “Michelle, allow me to introduce our new friend sitting next to you.”
Michelle turned sideways in her seat, her smile still on Millie who was obviously enjoying herself immensely. Finally Michelle faced the stranger to her right. He turned his head slowly, his square jaw and gray eyes scant inches away.
Oh, no. It couldn’t be.
But it was.
She knew a blush had turned her cheeks crimson, but she could do nothing to hide it. Fighting the urge to get up and run, she held out her hand as Millie finished.
“His name is Kevin. I always liked that name. And now with Kevin Costner and all…well, well…” She fanned herself and the others laughed. All but Kevin, who held Michelle’s gaze and didn’t smile.
“Kevin?” She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question, but it came out that way.
“Michelle?” He cocked an eyebrow and mocked her response. She was about to drop her hand when he finally took it in his. “And so we meet again.”
“Oh! You two already know each other?” Millie asked.
Michelle pulled her hand back and straightened in her chair. “Not exactly. We just…saw each other on deck earlier.”
Millie pushed on. “We haven’t had much time to get acquainted, but Kevin told us he isn’t married. Are you, Michelle?”
Hazel reached across the table and slapped her sister’s hand. “Really, Millie. You can be such a busybody.”
Michelle took a sip of water and kept her eyes on the glass. “No, I’m not,” she said quietly, not wanting to underscore her answer.
Oh, God. A whole week of sharing meals with this man. How would she ever explain her earlier actions?
The waiter came and asked if anyone cared for a cocktail. What she’d give for a good stiff drink. But after this morning’s visit to the clinic, she’d sworn off alcohol just in case…
“And you, ma’am? Would you care for something?”
“I’ll have a Virgin Mary, please.”
Kevin started to laugh, then turned it into a cough and drank some water.
She wanted to turn on him and ask, “What’s your problem?” but she kept her face forward and smiled at the newlyweds, who had all but forgotten everyone else at the table.
Millie and Hazel kept up a running commentary on the menu until orders were taken. Then, later, between dainty bites of food, they educated the table on the history of the ship.
“She was originally called the S.S. France, you know,” Millie said.
“Did you know she’s as long as the Eiffel Tower is tall?” Hazel asked the group. Heads shook and the pair prattled on, no one seeming to mind, though Michelle hadn’t a clue what Kevin’s expression was. She hadn’t looked at him once since the introduction.
When it was time for dessert, Michelle pushed out her chair and stood. “It was very nice meeting all of you, but I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Oh,
