(Day 1, Saturday: Departure)
The cruise ship had been a beehive of activity when Diane Rivers had boarded earlier that afternoon. Exuberance and excitement were in the fragrant sea air as they left Miami on a fifteen-night Caribbean cruise. Yet Diane’s heart wasn’t racing with exhilaration despite the fact that this was her first real vacation. It was pounding with fear.
As Diane dressed in her cabin for the evening ahead, she acknowledged that she had good reason to be scared. She was more frightened now than she had been the day she’d left home at sixteen, fed up with fighting off her mother’s men. She’d struck out on her own and never looked back.
Diane had done well for herself professionally. She’d managed to work her way through college with the help of modeling and waitressing jobs and hard-earned scholarship money. She’d even gone on to obtain a master’s degree in business. She taught business and computer classes at Lawrence, a private high school in Detroit, as well as an evening class at the local community college.
She wasn’t part of a large, nurturing family, like Heather Gregory-Montgomery. Nor did she belong to a small, close-knit extended family, as did Charles Randol. The three had been close friends and had worked together at Lawrence.
No, Diane belonged only to herself, for she refused to lay claim to the poverty and grief that had marked her girlhood.
Charles... the name slipped past her lips as she smoothed the back of her close-cropped black hair. The front was fluffy and curly, while the sides and back were straight and followed the graceful lines of her head.
Diane at thirty-two knew she was striking. Her flawless, creamy toffee toned skin, her lovely topaz eyes, and her full, lush lips caused far too many male eyes to linger over her African-American beauty.
She sighed heavily, placing the styling brush on the vanity. She’d been stalling, hoping for a dose of courage. There was no way she was about to spend the next two weeks aboard this ship locked in her cabin, terrified of Charles’s reaction when he discovered she’d followed him. Grabbing her red beaded evening bag, she refused to take another glance in the mirror. She wore a red tuxedo suit. The lapels and the short straight skirt were satin. This was as good as it got.
“Wish me luck, Heather,” Diane said to her absent friend. Heather had encouraged her every step of the way, certain in her belief that Diane and Charles belonged together. Trouble was, Heather was so happily married that she’d lost touch with reality. Charles would not be pleased.
Pausing only long enough to check her purse for the key, Diane closed the cabin door firmly behind her. She didn’t need to remind herself that she was the last person Charles wished to see... ever. He’d made that abundantly clear. But there was nothing he could do to get rid of her, short of tossing her overboard. Given time, maybe—just maybe—she could convince him he’d been wrong about her.
The elegance and beauty of the luxury liner with its finely woven carpets, fresh-cut flowers, and elaborate works of art prominently displayed were wasted on Diane. Lost in thought, she was oblivious not only to her surroundings, but to the frequent masculine glances she received as she made her way to the lobby, where the welcome aboard bon voyage cocktail party was in full swing.
What if she’d made an error in judgment? What if Charles wasn’t traveling alone? It was possible he had a female companion with him. Diane swallowed with difficulty. The thought was too disturbing to consider for long. She’d known she was taking a huge risk from the very first, but she’d come anyway.
Charles was a reasonable man. If nothing else, he had to give her a fair hearing—didn’t he?
With her heart fluttering in her chest, she looked around for a familiar face. At six feet four, Charles would be easy to spot. After nearly an hour of straining her neck, she still hadn’t spotted him. She was almost relieved when the crowd began moving toward the dining room.
Diane’s breath quickened with expectation. The dining room like the rest of the ship, was lavishly appointed. The very real possibility of seeing Charles left her trembling in anticipation. For no matter how she assured herself that she was strong enough to face him, she didn’t completely believe it. His disapproval could easily destroy what she was just beginning to acknowledge to herself.
“Good evening,” she said, reaching her assigned table.
“Good evening. I’m John Pondexter, and this is my wife, Beverly. We’re from Orlando.” The elderly couple beamed at her. “These are our twin daughters, Gwendolyn and Margaret.”
“How do you do?” she said, taking one of the two empty chairs. “I’m Diane Rivers.”
“Where are you from, my dear?”
“Detroit.” Diane’s gaze methodically traveled over the room. Where was he? She forced herself to smile in hopes of hiding her growing anxiety and disappointment.
“This is our fourth cruise. We love it so much we just keep coming back.” The couple laughed brightly. “Although this is the first time for our girls.” The “girls” were clearly over fifty and wore identical blue velveteen ruffled dresses.
“Is this your first cruise, my dear?” Beverly asked her.
“Yes,” Diane managed, determined to concentrate on more than the empty chair next to her. Surely there hadn’t been a mistake with the tables? She’d specifically requested to be seated at Charles’s table. Where was he?
Besieged with doubt, she wondered if she was about to make a fool of herself. At the moment, this brilliant idea appeared to be a complete waste of not only time, but money. She shouldn’t have come... she shouldn’t have come...
When she’d managed to speak to him on the telephone, while he was still in the hospital, he’d been bitterly cold. Evidently, he preferred to think the worst of her, so why didn’t she just let him? Why in the world did she even want the man? Why hadn’t she just left well enough alone? Once he made up his mind, it was nearly impossible to change his viewpoint. Talk about mule-headed.
But Charles wasn’t like any of the men Diane had dated. Although he was sophisticated and charming, like the upwardly mobile types she preferred, he was much much more: He was genuine. There was nothing phony about him. He didn’t put on an act, nor did he pretend to be something he was not. He was a strong man a woman couldn’t help but admire.
He’d been wrong about her... dead wrong. All she had to do now was convince him. So where on this blasted ship was he?
**
“No!” Charles Alexander Randol III screamed in protest as he tossed on the bed, fighting to slow the fast-moving car. He repeatedly pumped the useless brakes, as he had done on that fateful night. His body strained with tension as he crashed through the guardrail, plunging down the slope into a tree.
Charles woke with a jerk, his breath fast and heavy. His torso, wracked with pain, was drenched in sweat. “It’s over,” he reminded himself. His thoughts were filled with the harsh memory that had put him into the hospital. The car accident had left him laid up with cracked ribs and a punctured lung.
He groaned as he slowly dragged himself up and into a sitting position. He was sore all over. “Damn!” he swore, as he eyed the travel clock on the nightstand. He’d intended only to take a nap, but apparently he’d been asleep for hours. His stomach chose that moment to remind him that he’d slept right through the dinner hour.
Well, he’d come on this floating hotel for rest, and it looked as if he’d get more than his share. It must have been that pain pill that had put him out so soundly. Why hadn’t he flushed them down the toilet the day he’d left the hospital?
He’d let his sister and Heather talk him into taking this stupid cruise. Both of them claimed to know what was best for him. What did a man alone need with moonlight and stars?
What he needed was a tall beer, a thick steak, and time alone to forget. Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted some time away from Detroit and temptation. A bit of a diversion. Two weeks away from the big “D” was what he needed. Or more important, he needed to get away from haunting thoughts of a beautiful dark-haired witch who liked to play with men, using them for her own amusement and then tossing them out with the trash when she was tired of them. There was always some new sucker drawn in by her flawless beauty. But he knew she wasn’t capable of love. She didn’t understand the meaning of the word. And the word commitment wasn’t part of her vocabulary.
Charles hadn’t allowed himself to see Diane in over a year, but he’d forgotten nothing about her. She had called a few times and had even sent flowers while he was in the hospital. But he knew from painful experience not to let her get too close. She had managed to sink her hooks into him once. He vowed it’d never happen again.
Yet no matter how many women he dated these days, Diane was never far from his thoughts. She inhabited his house, his office, his empty bed. For the first time in his adult life, Charles found all his emotions and sexual desires centered on a single woman: Diane Rivers. Frankly, he deeply resented it. Damn it! Oh, how he resented her. He knew her game. Hell, he’d even called her on it. Yet regardless of his resolve, he ended up still longing for her. He couldn’t seem to get over her.
By the time Charles had showered and dressed, his stomach was making demands he could no longer ignore. As he approached the elevators, he realized he was moving more easily; the ache in his chest was barely noticeable. He smiled. He was definitely on the mend. He found a buffet set up near the pool on the top deck. He filled his plate, enjoying the wide variety of food available even at this hour.
Later, he wandered into a lounge on a lower deck. He made himself comfortable at the bar. As he leisurely sipped on a beer, he was able to relax for the first time in a long time. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad. He could get in some swimming and snorkeling, as well as a little blackjack.
Out of the corner of his eye he took note of several attractive unescorted women sharing a nearby table. Two were eyeing him with frank interest. Charles’s teak-brown skin, thick, close-cut black hair, and long, lean body held a certain appeal to women. Judging by the attention he was getting, he knew he didn’t have to worry about being alone unless he desired it.
But at thirty-four, he’d been around that particular block a few too many times. He was dog tired of playing the dating go-round. He wanted more, much more. He was ready to fall in love and commit to one special woman. He wanted a loving home that included a family of his own. The single life no longer held the appeal it once had.
A long, leggy beauty with soft dark-brown skin, big, beautiful dark eyes, and long black curls managed to catch his gaze. Her smile was an open invitation. Charles automatically returned the smile before refocusing on the nearly empty glass in his hand. She was gorgeous. But he wasn’t the least bit tempted. His taste ran toward soft, full curves and creamy toffee-toned skin... Damn! When would he learn?
His plans for the community center should be occupying his thoughts. He’d helped organize and develop a mentoring program targeted at young black males between twelve and seventeen in the city of Detroit. With the help of his fraternity brothers, it looked as if they were beginning to make some headway. There was still so much that needed to be done. The situation with the black male in America was something he took seriously. Issues that affected black men weren’t just a black problem. To Charles’s way of thinking, they affected the entire nation. Now, he had the means and the know-how at least to try and make a difference. As much as he cherished and respected the black female, he believed that only a man could teach a boy to become a man.
Of course, it had been expected that he would follow in his late father’s and his uncle’s footsteps by taking over the managing of Randol Pharmaceutical. Sports were his passion, and coaching seemed a natural outlet for that interest. His family had indulged him by allowing him to play for a time after college. They didn’t take his coaching at Lawrence seriously.
Last fall, when his uncle had taken ill, Charles had had no choice but to take over the family pharmaceutical business. Family came first. Besides, he’d always known he would eventually head the firm his grandfather founded some forty years ago. It had been time for him to face up to his responsibilities.
There was only one person at Lawrence he didn’t say goodbye to when he left... Diane. He needed to get his life back on track... needed to heal emotionally. Diane wasn’t interested in “happily-ever-after,” or at least, not with him.
For years he’d dared to dream that she might be his woman. But it had turned out to be just that... a fantasy. Diane wanted only one thing—to add his name to her long list of conquests.
He’d hungered for her from the moment they’d met at a staff meeting nearly eight years ago. And she’d been friendly... too friendly. Most of the men on staff couldn’t seem to say enough good things about her, while the females couldn’t stand her.
He had to admit that she was an excellent teacher. He admired her professionalism and her camaraderie with the students. At first, like the other men, he couldn’t see past her beauty. It wasn’t long before they started dating. They quickly discovered they made better friends than possible lovers. Charles had had no alternative but to accept that while his kisses left her unaffected, hers aroused and thrilled him to the core. They remained friends until his final year at Lawrence.
Everything finally came to a head on a perfectly normal spring day during lunch in the teachers’ lounge. He’d been sick to death of her throwing her male friends in his face. On this particular day, he’d reached his limit.
So instead of joining Heather at the table they normally shared, Charles had gone to another table and eaten with other colleagues. Diane had been sitting with Heather. It was far easier to avoid Diane altogether than to listen to her boast of meeting yet another new man. Charles wanted more than a platonic relationship... he wanted Diane.
Diane didn’t understand the change in him and talked Heather into finding out what was wrong. Against his better judgment, he let Heather talk him into having a frank conversation with Diane.
To his surprise, he found himself giving her an ultimatum. Continuing as they were was not an option. When she refused to date him exclusively, preferring their friendship, he opted to bow out of her life. He was not about to beg for her love. He’d learned the hard way that although Diane was a beautiful and extremely desirable woman, no sane man would put his heart into her hands for safekeeping.
“Sir, the lady sent this over,” the waiter said, as he set a freshly drawn beer on the bar in front of Charles.
Charles lifted a brow. His gaze strayed to the women at the nearby table. “Which lady?” he asked, certain he knew. Hell, yeah. It was way past time he got Diane out of his system.
“The one in the red suit. Over there, against the wall.”
Charles followed the man’s gesture to the opposite corner of the room. The soft lamp glowed above her smartly cut dark hair, displaying her soft, flawless skin and large topaz eyes.
Diane lifted her chin, and her mouth formed a welcoming smile. Although she was trembling, she knew she looked cool and in control. She had perfected the facade over the years.