Dance Like Everyone's Watching

Three bread rolls and a long nap later, Taffy was relieved to discover that the rocking and the rolling of the cruise ship became more natural, almost soothing.

The biscuit-skinned man in a white military shirt was sitting on Helena’s bed, still displaying that magnetic triangle of glossy skin. “Hope you don’t mind. Just checking to see if you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, thank you.” Taffy unglued her eyes from his chest and looked up straight into the I-want-to-be-your-lover smile. That’s when she realised what should have been obvious from the start. The biscuit-skinned man was the man-boy from last night, the one in the audience and the one in her dream. “Much, much better.”

The man’s grin deepened. “Aw, shucks. I would have been happy to play doctor.”

Zzzzzing! The approach was too much too fast, yet Taffy’s heart skipped a beat. What was it about this stranger that obliterated social conventions and made chutzpah acceptable... more than just acceptable?

His spicy stare was almost tangible on her skin, sending golden sparks through her veins. Taffy fought the urge to touch him. The intimacy of the cabin conspired against her.

“Tell me,” she said as she swung her legs out of the narrow bunk, “is there any place on this skyscraper of a ship where two members of the crew could stare at the ocean together and,” she paused playfully, “oh, I don’t know, learn each other’s first names perhaps?”