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Doris gasped. "Oh, my! It's a miracle! Alice is in love!" She made the sign of the cross and pressed her palms together.
"Don't be ridiculous." I snorted. "I'm notin love." With the roll of my eyes, I shrugged off the accusation on the outside, but on the inside, those simple words nearly sent me tumbling off the boat.
Was I?
My feelings for him were so foreign that I couldn't even identify them. Was it possible it could be love? I knew it was illogical. I wasn't some starry-eyed teen who thought they were in love with every boy who sent them a smile. No. I was a woman. A worldly and wise woman who knew love didn't just happen in the blink of an eye. But what else could it be? It wasn't lust. I had lust for him, of course, but it wasn'tjustlust. I knew lust better than anyone, and I'd spent my life embracing it. I wasn't ashamed by lust and sex and my carnal needs like some people. I owned them, so I never needed to hide my lust under the guise of love to make myself feel better about taking a man to bed. No. I knew lust, and this wasn't that. This was lust on fire.
Which was, perhaps, love?
I'd never been in love. Not truly. I'd been gaga for Harry Hayes, but that was more for the prestige of being a major celebrity's girl. And my husband, Ed, I had cared for, but if I hadn't gotten pregnant, I never would have married him. He was a good husband. A provider. He took care of me, and in turn, I was his charming, beautiful wife to impress his friends and schmooze all his business contacts. It felt more like we were business partners than true loves. He provided me with a nice life, but what I felt for him was nothing compared to the feelings inside me that erupted whenever I even thought about Alejandro. And when I was in his arms, tasting his kiss, all those sappy songs about love I'd never understood suddenly made sense.
Marge shook her head. "Well, if you're not in love with him, why aren't you entertaining any of your other gentleman callers? God knows they've been hitting on you like a stubborn nail that just won't go in."
"I've just been ... busy."
"Bullshit," Marge countered. "You're notbusy. You're with Alejandro. And the fact you've been out with him more than once is astounding on its own. You haven't been on a date with a man twice since we moved to Las Vegas. You treat men like disposable napkins, but for some reason, Alejandro has got himself an opened-ended ticket to the Alice show. You're really not going to tell us what gives?"
For a moment, I almost opened my mouth and let the truth of my confusing feelings pour out. But instead, my mouth clamped tighter shut. Why couldn't I just open myself up and talk to them about my feelings? These were my Wilder Widows, my best friends, yet I still felt too insecure and guarded to ever share such a vulnerable part of me. Rolling over and showing my soft underside seemed too risky by far. I still didn't trust anyone not to take a swipe at it. Since I'd spent my whole life protecting myself from people who envied me and wished me ill, I didn't know if I'd ever be able to let my guard down. Not even with them.
"There's nothing special going on with me and Alejandro. I'm just having fun with him. That's all."
"I don't believe you," Sylvie said, and the way her knowing eyes probed mine made me shrink back a little. "I think you care about him."
"Psht." I chuckled. "He's handsome and interesting. But I don't do relationships. You know that. In fact, I'm having dinner with someone else tonight," I lied, hoping it would throw the love-sniffing bloodhounds off my trail.
"You are?" They echoed.
"With who?" Doris asked.
"You'll see," I answered with a smile, making a mental note of all the men who had asked me out since I'd set foot on the cruise ship ... all the men I'd said no to because the only man I cared to see was Alejandro. But if going out for dinner with another man would get the meddling widows off my back about the feelings I didn't want to discuss, I knew I could make it through one dinner with a cub when all I would be thinking about was my powerful lion.
"The last snorkeler is climbing on board, so we'll be heading back," our tour guide said, and I shot him a grateful look for breaking up the conversation I didn't want to be having.
"Thank you," I responded, quickly standing and moving behind him. "I'll just get one quick refill of my drink if you don't mind."
"I can bring it to you," he said, but I shook my head.
"Don't be silly. I have legs. Nice ones. I think I'll stretch them and get it myself."
I hurried away after him and didn't look back, but I knew three sets of probing eyes watched me go.
