Rapture's Rendezvous

An aroma of mustiness filtered upward to be fast dispelled when Michael lit a fresh cigar and settled down onto a chair, crossing his legs before him. He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty, seeing the look of disbelief in her eyes as Maria continued to look around her. His cabin was quite elaborate, in comparison to the way the immigrants were traveling.

But having had to travel on such a long journey as this, he hadn't been able to say no to what the ship's captain had offered in the way of luxury. But the captain of the Dolphin had no idea of Michael's true identity. If he had. . . Michael would have been treated even more poorly than a rat that is discovered on ship. . . .

“And would you like to put on something less wet?” he asked, eyeing her between squinted eyes. “What?” she gasped.

He laughed softly. “Don't be alarmed,” he said. “I only want to give you loan of my robe, until we can get your clothes dry.”

Maria looked further around her, seeing the small stove glowing orange in a corner, and a desk and built-in dressing table next to a basin that had been attached to the wall. Beneath the basin was a commode, making Maria turn her eyes quickly away.

She shivered again, realizing just how cold and uncomfortable she was. She eyed the stove once again and inched her way toward it.

“Well? What do you say, Maria?”

She turned to face him with wavering eyes. “I am a bit cold,” she whispered.

He pushed himself up out of the chair and went to a closet, pulling from it a maroon-colored satin night robe. He tossed it to her, then sat back down, watching her.

She placed her violin case on the floor and clutched the soft fabric to her. “Could you please close your eyes?” she asked quietly. She had learned to not be ashamed of her body while living in such close quarters at both her Papa's and Gran-mama's houses, but she had yet to let any man .. . not even .. . Alberto .. . see her fully unclothed. She had become aware of the size of her breasts and sensed that that was what most me

n liked about a woman's hidden proportions.

“Sure,” he laughed, standing, to move to his desk, to busy his fingers while turning pages of his journal, in which he had yet to record on this damn blustery day. His brows furrowed, remembering the storm. He had been quite aware of the creaking of the ship's timbers. Was this to be the last voyage of this ship Dolphin? Had it seen its last days of bringing immigrants to America's soil? Damn it. He hoped so. He had yet to see any immigrants treated fairly. They would be better off if not given passage to a land that didn't truly welcome them with open arms. . . .

Kicking her shoes off and stepping from her trousers, and then having pulled her jacket over her head, Maria worked quickly to cover herself with this sleek, shining fabric that had been so generously loaned to her. She liked the feel of it next to her skin, almost a caress, it seemed, as she tied its belt securely around her tiny waist.

“I'm now fully covered, Michael,” she said, curling her toes leisurely onto the warmth of the flooring beneath her feet. She flipped her dark hair away from her face and over her shoulders, smiling shyly as he turned to face her. The strange look in his eyes made a weakness settle in her knees and an ache begin between her thighs. She touched her forehead lightly and quickly turned to put her back to him, stooping to pick her clothes up, to arrange them on a chair next to the stove.

The pounding of her heart was a true warning of what was happening inside her. It had to be because she was suddenly being awakened to the desire for a man.

“You are quite a beautiful woman,” Michael said, clearing his throat nervously. He had known that the loose clothes had hidden many things . .. but he hadn't expected to find such exquisite proportions as his eyes had feasted on until she had turned from him. Such large, firm breasts compared to such a tiny waist? Yes, he had made quite a discovery here.

“And I do love the robe,” she said, running her fingers over its smoothness. “I've never had such softness against my skin.”

He went to stand beside her, but didn't dare attempt to touch her. He was afraid to move, lest haste only result in waste. “But it is only my night garment,” he said, puffing on his cigar.

“My night garments have only been of cotton,” she whispered. “As well as all my day garments.”

He ached to touch her. “You were made for satin, Maria,” he said, then turned with a start when a knock on the door interrupted their awkwardness. “Damn,” he uttered beneath his breath, crushing his cigar in an ashtray. “Who the hell?” he mumbled further, going to the door to open it with a jerk, then smiled, remembering having ordered this before taking his stroll on top deck. This was perfect. Maybe he could tempt Maria with food and receive a reward for all his generosi-ties … ?

Maria's eyes widened when she saw a ship's steward offering Michael a huge tray of silver-ornamented covered dishes. The aromas soon met her nose, making her lick her lips hungrily. She had been right. To be in Michael Hopper's presence had meant dry clothes . . . food….

“Thank you, Shawn,” Michael said, accepting the tray. He placed it on a table that sat between two chairs and closed and latched the door, turning to smile again, but this time toward Maria.

“A feast is what I now offer you,” he said, gesturing with a hand for her to sit down opposite him.

She put her hands to her throat. “For me?” she whispered, watching hungrily as Michael lifted first one lid and then another from the dishes. Steam spiraled upward, curling around her, enticing her even more, as she saw a deep-browned baked duck, sliced carrots swimming in a cream sauce, and slices of cheese and apples piled high on another platter.

“Come. Sit,” Michael encouraged, popping a cork from a wine bottle, to pour the crimson liquid into two tall, thin-stemmed wine glasses. “There's enough food and wine for two. Please enjoy it with me.”

Maria sank down onto the chair and accepted a glass of wine, then a dish piled high with food. She hesitated before eating, feeling a sudden guilt, remembering poor Alberto and what he would be fed on top deck. But she set her jaw firmly, thinking it to be his own fault for having left her side for a silly card game. Had he not, he would most surely be sitting beside her in the warmth of this cabin, also being served such delicious-smelling food.

She took a quick sip of wine, then set the glass down, to be able to eagerly pick at the meat with a fork. Smiling at Michael, she savored the mixtures of tastes and the pleasant, calm feeling they were creating inside her stomach. “It is so very good,” she said, then sipped on the wine again, this causing a rosiness to creep up into her cheeks.

Michael cleaned his plate and emptied his glass, then leaned back against the chair as he lit another cigar. “Now tell me a little about yourself,” he said, placing his folded hands on his lap, twiddling his thumbs.

Maria licked her lips and relaxed against the back of her own chair after having placed her empty plate and glass on the table before her. “What would you like to know?” she asked, feeling deliciously contented.

“Where are you and your brother headed?”