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With lazy eyes I wake up to the feel of Quinton’s chest rising and falling. I roll over, scanning the moonlit room. I peek out the window, we’re moving.
He looks so peaceful, stretched out sleeping. Quietly I slip on my silk kimono and sneak out of his cabin. I walk towards the bow of the top deck and relax on the daybed. The crisp sea breeze is refreshing.
Why did I tell him I love him?Because you do, Amelia, and it scares the living hell out of you,I tell myself. To have someone who means so much to me. It hurts to think of him not in my life. I finger the diamond on my neck, he has to be in love with me. He’s entertaining the idea of marriage. I have no idea why …why mess up a good thing?
My reality, our truth, is just another night away … I’m already married. I have no right to tell him I love him, just as he has no right to want to marry me. I’m not free to have these choices.
Footsteps pull me from my thoughts, and I see the captain approaching.
“Ah Ms. Amelia, everything all right?” He surveys the area.
“Hello Captain … yes, I just couldn’t sleep. It’s a beautiful night.”
“Yes, it is. Do you need anything? Perhaps a nightcap?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
He smiles. “It’s no trouble ma’am. Mr. Starks would have me, if I didn’t make sure you were comfortable.” He winks. “May I suggest a white Russian?”
“That does sound lovely.” I softly smile. “Thank you.” Within a few minutes, Toni appears with a blanket and a white Russian. “Oh Toni, I hope you weren’t woken for this.”
“No ma’am.” He waits for me to adjust back on the pillow and hands me my drink. He unfolds the blanket and flaps it out over me. “Let me know if you need another one.” Mmm, this is a tasty concoction. The coffee liquor is soothing.
“Amelia?” I turn to Quinton’s voice. “What are you doing out here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He walks toward me stark naked. “You may want to get under this cover, Toni and the captain are around.”
“I woke up and you were missing.” He slips under my blanket and wraps his arm under me. “What are you drinking, a white Russian?”
“Yes, the captain suggested it.” He laughs.
“Toni made it and brought you a blanket?”
“Yes.” I laugh. “How did you know?” He smirks, like it’s his job to know.
“Everything okay?” He’s relaxed strumming his fingertips.
I shrug sipping my drink looking up at the sky. “I don’t know … it’s everything.” He doesn’t say anything, he’s obviously waiting for me to finish. I sigh. “This has been amazing.” I smile touching his hand. “You, your life … this trip. But …”
“But what Amelia?” He leans up. “What’s bothering you?”
I shrug with a crooked smile. “I’m scared. I’m scared I won’t be enough for you once this masquerade disappears. Then what? What if I can’t keep up? You’ll eventually get bored of me … my body will become bland, and your eyes will wander. I can’t handle that. I can’t stomach the thought of your mouth on someone else’s or these beautiful hands caressing another. I just can’t!”
“These are your insecurities talking. I know myself better than anyone—I’ve had women—tons of them. None of them compared to you. Not even close.” He kisses my lips, reading my eyes. “I’ve never tasted a woman the way I’ve tasted you. Your taste, your scent remains on me. In me. I can taste you hours after we’ve been together. You are always in the forefront of my mind and nothing, I mean nothing, will ever change that! Period!”
“Oh, Quinton, I want to believe that.”
“I can’t tell you enough to make you believe that, but I’ll show you in everything I do. I’m not living my life for me—those days left me the day I met you—I live life for us!” I look at him, his eyes are intently watching me.
“Come here sweetheart.” He sits my empty glass on the table. I scoot down next to him. “I like your wrap … silk and sexy.”
I smirk, he’s so cute. “You’re a charmer Quinton.”
“I like the way you say my name,” he whispers, kissing and nibbling my neck.
“Do you now … Quinton,” I tease, rolling on top of him, straddling his waist. His hands and fingers glide with all of my movements.
“We’re going to be fine Amelia … it’s going be fine,” he whispers tangling his fingers through my hair, covering my lips with his. I playfully dip my tongue in his mouth, barely tracing his. “Yum, you taste like coffee,” he whispers against my lips. His hands aggressively cup my face. Our tongues begin to dance the tango, swirling and blending in perfect harmony.
