CRUISE TO ROMANCE (2 page)

“Helga.”

Oh, no!  Jennifer
rolled her eyes upward and cringed inwardly.  This was going to be much worse
than she expected.

“Don’t worry Jenny;
we’re going to get you out of that awful blue bathing suit and into a
moisturizing mud wrap.”

“Mud?”  Jennifer
frowned.  “I thought I could get a shrink wrap or something to make me look
thinner.”

Helga took her by the
arm and turned her into a room filled with plants, tropical flowers, and a
small sparkling pool.  “You don’t need to lose weight Jenny. You need to learn
the art of romance.  That lucky man you’ve decided to attract doesn’t care
about pounds.  It’s the image he’ll go for.  You must learn to project a new
attitude of poise and confidence.  Of course, you’ll learn that here.”  Ms.
Sweden pointed to a small dressing area.  “Now strip.”

“Strip?” Jennifer squeaked,
feeling her face flush and her heart sink to her toes.  She wasn’t crazy about
anyone seeing her body, but especially not the gorgeous woman next to her.

Ms. Sweden nodded. 
“First you will soak in the aromatherapy mineral pool for about twenty minutes. 
I’ll be back for your massage and mud wrap.”

Speechless, Jennifer
turned and peeled off her ‘awful blue bathing suit’ as the beauty queen left
the room.  Momentarily she dangled the shapeless suit in front of her.  “I
didn’t think it was that bad,” she muttered to herself.  Tossing her suit over
a wooden rack beside a large window with wood louvers tilting up, ensuring
privacy while allowing in light, Jennifer inhaled and held her breath.  Then
slowly releasing her breath, she absorbed her surroundings.  Lush green plants
and small flowering trees filled the room.  Fragrant orchids hung from pots
suspended from the ceiling.  In the center of the room the sparkling mineral
pool beckoned.  When she walked to the edge of the pool, her womanly reflection
glistened and mocked her gently.  Jennifer stepped into the pool feeling
delightfully feminine, slowly immersed herself, and settled on a curved bench
beneath the surface of the water.  I could get used to this, she thought, as
jets of warm mineral water flowed over her naked body, leaving her skin
tingling with wickedly delicious sensations.

A few years ago, she
only toyed with the idea of indulging in such sensuous luxury and becoming a
woman that men desired.  Over time though, her own desires took on an energy of
their own.  More and more she craved the love and admiration of a special man. 
One who would find her irresistible and funny.  Delightful and sexy.  She
wanted change, but wasn’t sure how to accomplish it without appearing
ridiculous.  After reading the cruise ship’s brochures, she knew she could,
with a little effort and polish, become the sophisticated woman she dreamed of
being.  Maybe not overnight, but with a little practice, she too could learn
the art of romance.

Romance!  It was here
in spades.  What a feeling!  Thoughts of Mr. Gorgeous surfaced as she relaxed
against the smooth marble bench.  What was it about him that she found so
attractive?  At embarkation, he was with a small tour group of men.  They all
had athletic builds; they all radiated vital energy that caught the notice of
the women around them.  Attention from any one of them would have flattered her
at one time.  But not now.  Mr. Gorgeous was special.  She knew it to the very
depths of her soul.  Never would she have believed it, had she not experienced
the incredible attraction.  There was no way she was going to let Sheila have
him.  At least, not without trying.

The main problem was
that she wasn’t quite sure how to try.  First she had to meet the man and find
out his name.  Short of throwing herself at him, how did she get his
attention?  Then keep it?  What would Sheila do?  With a sigh, Jennifer decided
to swallow her pride and ask a pro.  If anyone knew, Helga would.

*    
*     *

For at least thirty
minutes, Helga’s artful massage had stolen her ability to think.  Now Jennifer
lay covered in mud while Helga finished up with her feet, carefully covering
each toe with the sticky substance.  Relaxed and luxuriating in the feel of the
warm mud, Jennifer sighed and wiggled her toes.  This was truly heaven.  “Just
what is the mud going to do for me?  As wonderful as it feels, I can’t imagine
how it could be helping me.”

“The mud is a
specially formulated blend of exfoliating botanicals including lavender,
chamomile and rose petals.  It includes ingredients gathered from the depths of
the rain forest and mixed with French seaweed.”  Helga covered her with warm
sheets and tucked them around her body.  “This holistic mud wrap helps
eliminate toxins and smooth cellulite as well as moisturize your delicate
skin.  Once you rinse off, you will be impressed with the contouring of your
lovely body.”  Helga’s voice soothed over Jennifer as easily as her hands had.

Helga had her
thinking she was a beautiful femme fatale.  The woman was a genius—pure and
simple.  But how long could it possibly last?  This was a make-believe world of
sensual pleasure.  Could it withstand the gaze of Mr. Gorgeous?  Would her
fragile self-confidence melt the minute she saw him?

“Remember,” Helga
continued, “beauty is an attitude.  It comes from within.  It is an inner
knowing that a woman projects.  Men find the attitude irresistible, just as
your lucky man will find you.”

“Helga,” a woman’s
voice from the door called.  “You have an important call.  Sorry to interrupt.”

Helga smiled at
Jennifer and wiped the mud from her hands on a small towel.  “Relax for about
twenty minutes.  Our little timer, the one that looks like a strawberry, there
on the sideboard, will go off when you are ready.  There’s a shower in the
second massage room down the corridor.  You’ll find your bag and bathing suit
waiting for you there.  Your hair appointment is scheduled for an hour from
now.  I’ve arranged for our best stylist to give you a sophisticated cut.  One
that will flatter your classic bone structure and bring out your eyes.  Come
back tomorrow morning around ten o’clock and we’ll go shopping for some new
clothes and plan your day.”

“Thank you.” 
Jennifer smiled as widely as the drying mud on her face would allow.

Helga turned and
looked at Jennifer, leaving her with a softly spoken warning.  “Remember,
Jenny, you must never appear needy.  Always, always, speak and act with
confidence.”

After Helga left the
room, Jennifer stretched and closed her eyes, thinking on the many scents and
sensations she had just enjoyed.  Luckily, she had found Helga easy to talk
to.  Helga had generously given Jennifer advice during her massage and she
planned to take it.  When had she gone from a self-confident young woman to a
mouse?  Why hadn’t she seen the warning signs?  She suspected that as the
pounds increased, her self-confidence decreased.  Maybe it was her grandmother
warning her that she ate too much for a lady and that she would end up a
spinster if she didn’t stay thin.  She dearly loved her family, but sometimes
their well-meaning advice only added to the stress of loving food and loving to
cook.  After college she’d decided to put some distance between them. 
Welcoming a chance to leave her hometown of Homestead, Pennsylvania, she’d
headed to Ft. Lauderdale to write a cooking column for the local newspaper. 
She had come a long way quickly in business, but she was conditioned to believe
that no man would find her attractive with her extra pounds.  Now Helga was
telling her not to worry and not focus on her weight.  So what if she wasn’t a
rail-thin model, or the athletic type?  There was still someone out there for
her.

When the timer rang
its cheery bell, Jennifer threw the sheets back and slipped off the massage
table.  She grabbed a thick terry robe from a stack in the corner of the room,
slipped it on, and headed for the door.  Without thinking, she hurried to the
next massage room and slipped inside to take her shower.  She couldn’t resist
pausing in front of an old-fashioned, full-length mirror in a cane frame.  With
a quick motion, she tossed her extra towel to the side.  If only Sheila could
see me now, she giggled, looking at her greenish-brown reflection.  The
Pillsbury Dough girl wrapped in a beach robe with pistachio and chocolate
sprinkles!  Truth be known, with the turban protecting her hair and the mud
plastered over her face and body, she doubted that even her mother would
recognize her.

“Hello,
beautiful.  Are you the new massage therapist?” an amused masculine voice
asked.

Jennifer
gasped and spun around, clutching her robe tightly.  Oh, no!  Please, no!  It
was him.  Mr. Gorgeous in the flesh, wearing just a short robe tied together at
the waist.  Frozen to her spot, Jennifer allowed her gaze to drift down the
exposed skin of his muscular chest to his toned thighs and calves.  Mmm . . .
what nice hips.  Apparently, the him beneath the robe was pretty nice too.  Oh,
God!  What was she doing?  She was staring, and not at his face.  Jennifer felt
a flush cover her.  Then it hit her.  He couldn’t see her embarrassment under
all the mud.  Slowly, she dragged her gaze up to his face—a very amused face.

“You
have the wrong room, Mr. . . . ?”  She struggled to speak.  Stay calm, her
panicked mind reminded her.  Sure thing, she told herself as she tilted her
chin up in what she hoped was a gesture of indifference.

“Treymont. 
Ryan Treymont.  And you?”  He shook his head and grinned when she didn’t
respond.  “Nope.  This is definitely the right room.  It’s the Toucan Room and
I have it reserved for the next two hours.”  He smiled broadly and his eyes
swept over her from her head to her toes and slowly back up.  Glancing to the
mirror behind her, he laughed.  “But I’d be happy to share.”

Jennifer’s mouth
dropped open at the invitation.  “If you were any kind of a gentleman,” she
sputtered, “you would leave and give me time to take my shower.”

“Maybe I’m not a
gentleman.  Besides, it seems to me you have plenty of time, just no shower.”

Jennifer spun around
and surveyed the room.  Oh, no.  He was right.  There was no shower—she was in
the wrong room.  A beach towel rested on the nearby massage table, one end
dangling on the edge.  One step forward and she quickly grabbed the towel. 
“Oh, no,” she moaned, “I can’t leave the room like this.”

“My, my, but you are
shy.”  Ryan grinned and settled his hands on his hips.  “Tell you what,” Ryan walked
over to her and reached for the towel in her hand.  “I’ll be nice and show you
where the shower is.”

Jennifer gripped the
towel and held her breath.  It was getting entirely too warm in here.  Mr.
Gorgeous was so close . . . and so handsome, smiling that heart wrenching smile
that could melt ice cubes.  What was she going to do?  “I . . . Mmm . . . ah .
. . I don’t need your help, thank you very much.”

“You’ve got to let
go,” he chuckled, gently pulling at the towel.

Jennifer stared at
her clenched fist holding the beach towel as if her life depended on it. 
Slowly she relaxed her fingers and watched as the towel slipped away.

Ryan eased the towel
away from her grip, shook it open, and placed it around her shoulders.  “The
closest shower is in the massage room next door.  On your right.  Or you can go
down to the showers for the gym.  Take the third door on the left to get
there.”

“Thanks,” she
breathed, acutely aware that he still blocked her path through the door.  She
looked up from her empty hand and met the hard wall of his powerful chest. 
Jennifer burned.  She could feel the waves of heat just flowing off of him. 
Why, oh why, wasn’t the air-conditioning working?  Her heart raced as her gaze
traveled up his tanned skin to meet his laughing eyes.

“Have dinner with
me,” he coaxed.  “There’s a small lounge area next to the entrance to the
Venetian dining room on Deck Six.  Meet me there at seven.”

  Here was her chance
to flirt.  Did she dare?  Would he be disappointed when he finally saw the real
her instead of a mystery woman swathed in a thick shapeless beach robe and
covered in mud?  She didn’t think she could handle the embarrassment if he
rejected her.  Still, he acted interested.  If her courage would just hold up,
she might be able to best Sheila and end up with a dynamite lover.  Jennifer
angled her face toward his and smiled.  “All right,” she murmured.  “Dinner at
seven.”

“Promise?” he teased.

Tongue tied, she
nodded, wishing she had something clever and witty to say.

“Well, beautiful,” he
stepped back with a grin and opened the door.  “I think you’d better go.”

“Next door, it is,”
she added huskily as she hurried out the door, anxious to wash away the mud and
see the beginnings of her new image.

Ryan Treymont loved women. 
Short, tall, skinny, or plump, plain or exotic, domestic or foreign, he loved
them all.  There was just something about a warm feminine creature that he just
couldn’t resist.  Even the short-tempered females usually melted under his
charm.  To his way of thinking, how could a man not love the rainbow of women
bringing pleasure into his life with a smile, and if he was lucky, with a
kiss.  If a woman was funny that was a plus, but if she could cook—now that was
a major bonus!  After growing up in a household of seven men and no women, he
cherished the feminine sex.  Everything they did fascinated him, from temper to
tears to giggles to laughter.

Even the little spitfire that
he’d met earlier today in the spa was refreshing.  There was just something
about her that intrigued him.  Would she show up for dinner tonight?  Probably
not.  No way would she want him to know who she really was.  Well, that was
just too bad.  He had a sure fire way of recognizing her, whether she liked it
or not.  He’d just have to keep his eyes and ears open.  A beautiful voice and
a fiery temper were hard to hide.

Ryan raised his cocktail glass to
his lips and finished his bourbon on ice.  The cool liquid warmed his throat as
if it were a smooth caress.  Mmm, but he was feeling sexy.  The image of that
adorable female covered with nothing but a bulky beach robe and sweet-smelling
mud lingered, teasing him, making him want to scour the ship to find her.  What
was he doing lusting over a woman he didn’t even know?  For all he knew, she
had a boyfriend, or worse, a husband.  But something about her stirred his
interest.  Even when he met his ex-fiancée, Diane, he hadn’t been this
intrigued.  Maybe it was the mystery.

Mystery, or no, getting involved
with a woman now could only be a mistake.  Certainly he’d dated since his
broken engagement, but never seriously.  Even though he enjoyed the company of
women, the word forever was no longer in his vocabulary.  While a shipboard
romance might be fun, Ryan reminded himself that this cruise was for business,
his business, the business that he had struggled for years to build.  Now was
not a good time to get distracted.

As the CEO of Exercisetech, he
had an important role to fill and image to keep.  His best salesmen were on this
trip with him.  Their one goal—to convince the cruise line to purchase for its
entire fleet, Exercisetech’s high-tech exercise equipment—was a formidable
task.  As invited guests of the cruise line, each man needed to conduct himself
in a courteous, friendly and professional manner at all times.  That conduct
didn’t include indiscriminate romancing of every female passenger.  They had
all been warned by him to enjoy the trip, but to be discreet.

The ship boasted three full size
pools, one in the solarium, one open to the sun and fresh air, and one on the
sports deck.  Something for everybody, he mused.  He, of course, preferred the
open-air pool area and the poolside bar and grill where he sat, because within
a few feet of the pool and hot tubs he could enjoy not only the bar and grill,
but a pizza café and an ice cream parlor as well.  Not only that, he thought,
when three young women in tiny bikinis stepped up to the bar, the view was
very, very, good.  This was also the best place he knew of to keep his salesmen
in line.  While they didn’t like having a chaperone, the men weren’t likely to
risk their jobs.

The bartender joined him in
watching the women walk away with their drinks before giving Ryan a knowing
wink and filling his glass for him.  Above the bar perched a redheaded mermaid
holding a banner which read
mare di amore
.  Sea of love?  He hoped not. 
He wanted his staff to keep business first and foremost.  It wasn’t that he
didn’t want them to enjoy the cruise, but their behavior shouldn’t reflect
negatively on his company.

Setting his glass down on the
counter of the poolside bar, he watched while his youngest brother, Mike,
flirted with a petite blonde in a red bikini sitting in the wading area of the
pool near a fountain sculpture.  Water cascaded down, spilling over the smooth
bodies of playful dolphins, sending a fine mist over the young woman and Mike. 
A few feet from them, stairs led downward into deeper water.  Body language
alone told him the attraction between the two of them was building.  Of all his
salesmen, Mike would be the first to bend the rules to suit himself.  That is,
if he let him.   Not that he could blame Mike.  The blonde was beautiful, for
sure.  Unaware of his scowl, Ryan rose from his barstool and made his way over
to edge of the pool where Mike appeared to have the woman entranced with his
wit, his charm, and his exceptional good looks.

“Hey, Ryan,” Mike grinned as Ryan
walked up.  “Meet Sheila Gray.”  Mike turned to Sheila.  “Ryan’s one of my big
brothers.”

“Oh, my, yes—he certainly is.” 
Sheila laughed.  “But that frown has to go.”

Ryan found himself smiling.  She
was one good flirt.  “Pleasure, Sheila.”

“Mike invited me and a friend of
mine to dinner at the Captain’s table tonight.  I hope you don’t mind.”  Sheila
held out her hand to him.  “I’ll be sure to tell the Captain just how much I
love Exercisetech’s equipment.”

“I’d be interested to know
whether or not Exercisetech was even in your vocabulary before you met Mike,”  Ryan
countered as he shook her hand.

“Ah, a true doubter.  Actually,
my friend Jennifer, who you will meet tonight, introduced me to the equipment
last year.  It’s quite a story, but since it’s her story, I’ll let her tell
it.”

“Look, I don’t want to disappoint
anyone, but I have plans for this evening.  Dinner with the Captain is tomorrow
night, Mike.”  Ryan turned to Mike wondering just what his brother was up to. 
Mike looked so innocent with his boyish face.  Often Ryan wondered how Mike
happened to be blessed with light blue eyes and light brown hair when the rest
of the clan tended to be darker.

“Past tense, big brother.  The
Purser’s office called while you were at the Spa and changed our plans.  Looks
like the Captain is excited about the equipment and getting the staff familiar
with it.”  Mike grinned wickedly.  “You’ll just have to change your plans.”

Ryan gave him a dark look.  He
didn’t want to change his plans.  “What time do we have to be there?” Ryan
asked.

“Seven.  In the Naples Dining
Room.  Deck Five.”

Ryan frowned.  It looked like he had
no choice.  Dinner with the Captain was much too important.  Nor did he seem to
have a choice in dinner companions.  He allowed his gaze to slide lazily over
Sheila before returning to his brother.  Mike was not going to get away with
this unscathed.  “Come by my cabin around six.  I want to talk to you.”

“Sure.  Talk to you later.”  Mike
slid over to the stairs, slipped into the pool, and began swimming to the other
side.

Sheila lifted her eyes away from
Mike and studied Ryan carefully.  “You certainly seem disappointed by the turn
of events.”

Ryan tugged at the towel around
his neck and faced her.  “Sorry.  Please don’t take it personally, but this is
a business trip.  Sometimes Mike has a tendency to forget.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Sheila
answered.  “You’re starting to sound just like your slave-driver boss.”

“Excuse me?” Ryan gave her an
incredulous look.  Didn’t she know he was the boss?

“Oh, yes.  Mike told me all about
him.”  Sheila shrugged her dainty shoulders and smiled at him.  “Surely you can
mix business and pleasure.  After all, this is a cruise.  It’s supposed to be
fun.  According to Mike, even the peons should have a night off.”

“Peons?”  Irritation edged his
voice, but he couldn’t quite seem to articulate past Mike’s outrageous
description.

Sheila stepped closer to him
until only inches separated them.  Smiling reassurance, she placed her hand on
his arm and smoothed the curve of his well-defined triceps.  “Don’t worry. 
Jennifer and I will behave ourselves tonight.  However, I can’t promise that
for the rest of our vacation.”

“Thank you, Sheila.  I appreciate
that.”  So much for innuendo.  He needed to get away from the blonde barracuda
in the red bikini.  Fast.  He turned swiftly and headed for his cabin.  He was
going to kill Mike.  Throw him overboard.  No, that was too good for him.  As
soon as he cooled off, he would plan something better.  Much better.

*    
*     *

The cabin was unusually quiet
except for the lively melody of Marc Anthony’s “You Sang to Me,” filtering in
from the balcony where Sheila sat with her CD player.  Jennifer glanced around
the neatly kept cabin marveling at the gleaming teak trim on the walls and
built-in cabinets.  The festive green and blue upholstery on the furniture
matched the colors in the bedspreads.  Their steward would later come in to
tidy up the place, set out fresh towels, and turn down each bed.  Earlier he’d
put a bowl of fresh fruit on the cocktail table.

Jennifer nibbled on an apple
slice while she eyed her dinner dress lying at the foot of her bed.  She
grabbed her strapless bra and matching bikini panties from the drawer of the
dressing table and tossed them next to her dress.  For a moment she studied her
reflection before picking up her brush.  With a few quick strokes of the brush
through her newly styled hair, she tried to calm her riotous emotions.  Any
other time she would have loved to eat at the Captain’s table with Sheila and
her new friends.  But she had a date with Mr. Gorgeous a/k/a Ryan Treymont, the
sexiest hunk on the ship, and she didn’t intend to miss it.  As Sheila came
into the cabin with a closed look on her face, Jennifer knew it was time to
assert herself.  She pulled on her lace bikini and struggled with the fastener
on her lace bra.

“I’m not going!”  Jennifer
planted her feet firmly apart, her looks daring Sheila to argue with her.   Met
with silence, she slipped the aqua silk dress over her head.  It fell in soft
folds around her hips and knees.  “I’ve seen that determined look before,
Sheila, and it will get you nowhere.  Instead of assuming that I had nothing to
do tonight and making commitments for us, you should have asked me first.”

“You really have a date?”  Sheila
asked with genuine interest.

“Oh, do I ever!”  Jennifer smiled
knowingly.  She didn’t want to tell Sheila too much.  After all, they had the
same goal involving the same man.  She wanted to keep her edge as long as she
could.  Once he met Sheila, it could be all over for her.

“So tell me all about it.  How
did you meet him?  Who is he?”  Sheila walked over to the closet and started
browsing through the clothes.

“I met him this afternoon.  All I
want to say right now is that he is special,” Jennifer hedged.

“Okay.  I think that’s really
great, Jennifer.”  Sheila glanced at her speculatively.  “Does this mean you’re
not interested in Mr. Gorgeous anymore?  Did you decide not to take the bet?”

“Not at all.”  Jennifer sat down
on the edge of her bed and slipped on her matching aqua sandals.  “As a matter
of fact, I’ve decided to take the bet and win, or at least give you a good run
for the money.”

“Wow!”  Sheila laughed.  “Good
for you.  Still, I think you should come to dinner at the Captain’s table
tonight.  Mike and his brother are salesmen for Exercisetech.  Remember the
group of ‘perfect abs’ men we saw?  Every one of them is an Exercisetech
salesman.  They’re trying to sell the company’s equipment to the cruise line.”

“What are they doing on this
cruise and why so many?”  Jennifer reached for her evening purse and slid her
cabin door key card inside along with a lipstick.

“They are training the gym and
spa staff on the equipment.  While they are on board, they will be introducing
the interested passengers to the equipment and also help design individual
exercise programs for them.”  Sheila took out a pink halter top with matching
calypso pants.  “This would be casual chic with a sheer blouse over it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jennifer
admitted.  She wished she could wear such revealing outfits.  On her they would
be too much.  Oh, well.  “Look Sheila, I do appreciate the fact that you
included me in your plans, but I really want to meet this man tonight.”

“I understand.  If you should
change your mind, we’ll be in the Naples Dining Room.  Dinner is at seven.” 
Sheila walked over and hugged Jennifer.

“Thanks,” Jennifer said, “but I
won’t change my mind.  Not this time.”

*    
*     *

In the brightly lit lounge area
next to the massive doors to the Venetian Dining Room, Jennifer’s eyes sought
out every passenger sitting at the cheery little coffee bar.  No one there
remotely resembled Ryan Treymont.  She sighed and sank back further into her
chair positioned next to a wide window, allowing her a panoramic view of the
ocean at sunset.  The ocean appeared as restless as she.  Although the ship’s
stabilizers ensured a calm ride, there was nothing calm about her at the
moment.

Jennifer sipped her gourmet
coffee while she watched the white caps and fluorescent foam then checked her
watch for the tenth or eleventh time.  No Ryan Treymont.  There would be no Mr.
Gorgeous smiling at her over a glass of wine promising her a night of romance. 
Stood up by the man of her dreams.  Jennifer tried to smile, but couldn’t find
any humor in the situation.  At least he wasn’t here.  He couldn’t know the
embarrassment he was causing her now.  What should she do?  She could eat alone
or go downstairs to the Captain’s table and eat crow with Sheila watching.  Not
that Sheila would say anything.  Jennifer just didn’t want to see pity in
Sheila’s eyes.  Oh for heaven’s sake, Jenn, she told herself.  Get over it. 
This is a cruise and a fabulous vacation.  It should be a happy time.  Even if
she didn’t win the bet, she could certainly enjoy herself.