Bermuda Nights - The Boxed Set (25 page)

BOOK: Bermuda Nights - The Boxed Set
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Doc had been as good as his word, although I wondered how he knew the exact size panties and bra to get for me. Everything fit to perfection, and I used the new brush on the dresser to work out the snarls that had developed in my thick hair. I was just finishing as Evan came out.

 

I turned in place. “Well? What do you think?”

 

His eyes glowed as he drew his gaze down my body. “I think I’m very lucky that the restaurant will be empty tonight, or I’d be fighting off half the men on this ship for you.”

 

I slowly strode over to him, rolling my hips with each step. I dropped my voice to a purr. “And would you win?”

 

He brought his fingers to my cheek, running them along the side of my face. “Absolutely.”

 

I turned my face into his palm, pressing a tender kiss there. “Then get dressed. Because if I have to wait any longer, I’ll gnaw a few fingers off of you before we get there.”

 

He chuckled, but dressed in record time. He put his arm out to me, and I slipped my fingers into the crook. He smelled like salt air and musk, his clothes fit him as if they’d been tailored for him, and for a moment I let all the worries of the past week fade into the distance.

 

He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. I was wearing the most beautiful dress on the ship. And my darling love was taking me to dinner.

Chapter 6

The noise of cheering echoed from all around us as we strode down the hallway, but I paid it no mind. Whatever the Sox were doing tonight, I wanted to be far from the crowds. A quiet dinner with Evan was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

 

We came to a stop outside the steakhouse, and the maître d’, an elegant woman with her hair neatly tucked into a dark bun, nodded in welcome. “Usually you’d need a reservation for the last night of the cruise, but it’s a ghost town in here, with the game on. So I can take you right in.”

 

I glanced at Evan as she picked up two menus from the podium. I lowered my voice and asked, “Am I getting you in trouble? Are staff allowed to eat in the specialty restaurants?”

 

He smiled at me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Oh, I don’t think we’ll have any problem at all,” he assured me. “Especially with the room practically deserted. I bet they’re happy to have someone to talk to.”

 

I chuckled. “Maybe they’ll be annoyed that we’re keeping them from their smartphones and game-watching apps.”

 

The maître d’ guided us through the empty room to a table right against a bank of windows overlooking the sea. The ink-black sky was speckled with stars as far as the eye could see.

 

I drew in a breath. “Oh, this is spectacular.”

 

Evan slid my chair beneath me, and then moved around to his own seat. “A bottle of Champagne,” he requested as the woman handed us each our menus.

 

“Of course, sir. Your waiter will be right over with that.” She turned to move to the side of the room.

 

My mouth watered as I looked down the list of options. I clearly was starving. Each item seemed more delicious than the last. I wanted one of each.

 

The waiter came over, a slim man with Malaysian features in a neat, dark suit. “Welcome to our restaurant! My name is Jared and I will be your server today.” He held out a bottle of Champagne to Evan. “Will this bottle do?”

 

Evan looked at the label. “Bollinger ’90. That’ll do quite nicely,” he agreed.

 

“Excellent,” offered the waiter, and in a moment he had poured out two flute glasses. He set the bottle into an ice bucket on a stand by the table, then gave a short bow. “I’ll give you time with your menus. Just look over when you’re ready to order.” He retreated back to his station.

 

Evan held his glass up to me, and I mirrored his pose. His voice was deep as his gaze held mine. “To you, my brave, headstrong, foolish Amanda. I had given up hope that a woman like you existed in the world. I salute you.”

 

I blushed, clicking my glass against his. I brought the golden liquid to my mouth, took in a taste, and sighed with bliss. It was stunning.

 

He put down his glass, then looked back over the menu. “So, what will you be having?”

 

I chuckled. “I think I’ve narrowed it down to the lobster bisque and the filet mignon with asparagus. Everything looks amazing, but those call to me the loudest.”

 

He nodded. “I was going to go for the french onion soup, along with the Delmonico.” He looked up at the waiter, and in a moment our orders were in.

 

I reached my hand across the table, and he took it in his own. The sense of connection went beyond words. We were one. I knew that nothing could ever sever this bond we shared.

 

I looked out the window at the vastness of the world around us. The water was all but invisible in the darkness, simply a layer of black beneath the sparkling stars that stretched as far as the eye could see.

 

I peered more closely. “Do I see lights out there?”

 

He chuckled. “That sky-thing does tend to have little glowing objects in it sometimes.”

 

I shook my head. “No, I mean down on the horizon. Are we getting near land?

 

He glanced at his watch. “Nearly nine. Sure, we could be close enough to the coast now that you start to see lighthouses and other ships. We’ll be going slow. No need to rush when we’re nearly at our destination. So we just meander along the coast until dawn, when we’re safely back in Boston.”

 

The waiter appeared again with our two soups, laying them down before us without a word. He refilled each of our glasses. Then he faded back to his post.

 

I picked up the deep spoon and took a sip of my bisque.

 

Wow.

 

I didn’t know if it was my level of starvation, the delicious Champagne, or if the chef was simply a culinary genius, but this had to be the best lobster bisque I’d ever tasted.

 

Evan was working through the cheese layer on top of his soup. “How is your bisque?”

 

“It is stunning,” I told him, taking another mouthful. “Better than anything I’ve had in Boston, New York City, Providence, or anywhere else. These guys know their stuff.”

 

He raised a brow. “You dine out a lot?”

 

I nodded, savoring every slurp of the soup. This stuff was manna from heaven. “My parents loved to explore New England. Even when I was tiny, we were always running into New York City to see a play or renting a house on the beach in Maine. I’ve probably eaten at every fine restaurant within two hundred miles.”

 

He gave a wry smile. “My family didn’t have the money for that kind of lifestyle. Our meals were pretty much always at home, with my parents and us five kids crowded around the dinner table. Meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, and fish sticks were more our style.”

 

He took a sip of his Champagne, then looked over, a rueful cast to his gaze. “I guess you found the guy from the wrong side of the tracks.”

 

I put my hand over his. “Don’t you ever think that,” I admonished him. “Sure, my parents had money – but they didn’t earn it. My mom simply got it handed to her from her own parents. And sure, we traveled around – but there was never much enjoyment in it all. My parents went to the theater because it was expected of them, but half the time they’d complain about the show. We’d go to a house on the beach and they’d fuss about the sand.” I looked down at the plate. “We’d all sit at the same table for dinner, but we barely talked. It was like they were each in their own isolated world.”

 

He grinned at that. “Well, we certainly had a lot of talking at our meals,” he countered. “All five of us kids wanted to share each thing we’d done during the day with our parents and each other. It was like a town meeting where we all got heard and we brainstormed ideas. Little Katie got to talk the most, of course. She was the jewel of our family.”

 

I scraped up the soup from the bottom of my bowl. “Oh? Where is she now?”

 

“She’s looking for a job in Worcester,” he explained. “Just graduated from Holy Cross. She’s a quiet girl, but I know once she gets herself in the right place that she’ll do fine. The rest of us have kept an eye on her since my father died, so it’s hard to have her out on her own now.”

 

The waiter stopped by to gather up our empty bowls. “How was everything?”

 

I smiled at him. “Absolutely delicious. Please let the chef know he is amazing.”

 

He nodded his head. “I will indeed. Your meals should be up shortly.” The corner of his mouth quirked in a grin. “The load is fairly light down in the kitchen tonight. Seems everyone’s in the bars living on popcorn and chicken wings.”

 

Evan glanced over. “What’s the score?”

 

“Top of the fourth, still scoreless.”

 

Evan grinned. “I figured you’d know the answer to that.”

 

The waiter gave a short bow. “I am here to serve!”

 

Evan glanced at the nearly empty glasses of Champagne. “Could we have a Bordeaux for our steaks?”

 

“Absolutely!” He stacked the two bowls and headed off.

 

I twined my fingers into Evan’s again and looked into his eyes. A weight settled onto my shoulders. “How long do you think it will be before you come home to Boston again?”

 

His gaze shadowed. “I’m not sure. It could be another few weeks. There are a few loose ends we have to gather up. It’s important that this all be done properly.”

 

“I know, I know,” I sighed. “It will just be hard watching you sail away on the boat.” I gave his fingers a squeeze. “I’ll miss you.”

 

He brought his head down to my hand, pressing a tender kiss on it. “You’ll be in my thoughts constantly. And I’ll give my thanks that you are safely on shore. Just know that I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”

 

I gave a soft smile. “I know you will.”

 

The waiter was back again, and the plates wafted with a delicious aroma which set my stomach into fresh rumbles. Once the plates were down, he stepped away to fetch the wine and again presented it to Evan.

 

He grinned. “Another wonderful selection. A 2009 Château Clinet. Very nice.”

 

The waiter smiled, then put out two Riedel glasses and poured each one. Evan lifted his to his nose, his lips lifting in a smile as he drew in a whiff of it. His grin grew as he took a taste.

 

“Absolutely fantastic.”

 

The waiter poured out the two glasses, then put the bottle to the side of the table. I cut into my filet – it was a perfect medium rare. I popped it into my mouth, and the meat nearly melted in my mouth.

 

I took up my wine, and I was in heaven.

 

Evan shook his head as he took a bite. “And to think you ate like this every day.”

 

“Not like this,” I corrected. I put my hand over his. “I was often so stressed that the food tasted like sawdust to me. I would have been happy with McDonald’s if we could just be a real family.” I looked up at him. “I would have traded all my lobster and truffles for the warm atmosphere you grew up in.”

 

He gave my fingers a squeeze. “Once I come home again, we will build a fresh set of memories for you. Ones where you have laughter and love. Where you are appreciated for the amazing woman that you are.”

 

I smiled at him. “I would like that. Our dinners together could always be like this one – full of joy and happiness.”

 

He lifted his glass. “I’ll toast to that.”

 

There was a movement from the side of the room, and I turned my head. And blinked, my glass still hovering in the air.

 

Jeff was walking straight toward us, his eyes hard and dark.

 

Chapter 7

Evan was up out of his seat before I could draw a breath, and tension snaked down his arms. His voice was a low command. “I told you to stay away from Amanda.”

BOOK: Bermuda Nights - The Boxed Set
2.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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