Sin at Sea by Emma Nichols Page B

question. After proudly answering a question with a question, I waited. He was up on his elbow once more, staring at me, considering all that I had said. We might as well have still been inside naked; the questions had the same effect. We were stripped bare at the moment. So much was riding on this…it was my future, his future, a potential for our future. It had become a classic standoff. I rolled onto my elbow, too. We each stared at our opponent, both of us understanding the importance of the next spoken words. Just as the silence threatened to become uncomfortable, he spoke.
    “You make a valid point.”
    Before he could say any more, the ship horn sounded, warning us that it was time to catch a boat back. Without saying another word, we worked together to gather our belongings, pack up, and head to the beach area designated for pick-ups. We were quiet, each lost in thought, and why wouldn’t we be. There was much to consider. Finding someone on a cruise was highly unlikely. It was a doomed situation. This…a vacation in general and a cruise in particular were ridiculously impossible places to find a mate. There was no way that life together off the ship would ever compare to life on the ship. It guaranteed disappointment. To even try it was relationship suicide. Look at us. We didn’t even know each other’s names.

    “You’ve been deep in thought,” he commented as we walked back to our stateroom to drop off the beach bag. Once that was done, he finally spoke his mind. “What are you thinking?”
    Glancing at his wrist, I made up an excuse. “It’s time for sushi.” I wore my most playful look when I turned to him. “Wanna come with me?”
    He chuckled. “Ah, yes. I forgot I suddenly eat sushi with just wasabi, right?” He watched me nod. “I can’t believe you don’t use soy sauce.”
    I looked at him seriously. “It’s the salt, man. I puff up like a blow fish.”
    “Well, we can’t have that.” He placed his hand on my lower back as we left the room and headed back to the promenade deck. Pausing he asked, “Does wasabi not have salt?”
    I tipped my head to the side as I considered this. “Nah. Too hot. Scares the sodium away. And it’s a widely known scientific fact that if you eat food with heat…like wasabi or hot sauce…that you burn off all those calories.” I nodded wide-eyed.
    “You are making that up,” he accused as he struggled to keep a straight face.
    “Okay, so it’s more of a theory than a fact. What I do know is that I use hot sauce and wasabi all the time and eat like a pig. That makes it a fact for me.” Then I stopped in the hall, stood on my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and said, “I love playing with you. You are my favorite.” With that, I kissed him on the nose, released, and walked to the nearest elevator, leaving him to stare after me. Oh, yeah. He still wanted me.

    While we were eating sushi, I caught a couple staring at us. At first, I wondered at it, and then I stared back, too. Brazenly. They seemed to be about our age, late twenties, early thirties at most. The woman had smaller boobs than I did. She had a taller, thinner figure, whereas I tended to be curvier with a thin waist and flat abs. She nudged her husband and I knew they were going to walk over and talk to us.
    “Do you trust me?” I asked Mr. BE. He looked confused. He hesitated. So, I spoke again. “Tell me you trust me and I’ll make this the most memorable night of your life. Got it?” He nodded blankly. “Now, just follow my lead.”
    The couple sat down across from us at the table we had chosen across from the casino. The man spoke first and what he said earned him an elbow to the ribs from his wife. “So, is this your first cruise?”
    I laughed. It was the maritime equivalent of ‘do you come here often?’ Never would such a lame statement move me.
    The wife looked at him after the elbow. “Don’t speak,” she said seriously. He started to open his mouth, but