At Sea
I spread the Renegade documents out on the small table in my bedroom and then put them in order of the ports. Then I pulled the last one out and read it thoroughly.
They were planning the live expo in Cuba.
Just like I’d suggested to Penelope.
I hated using her like that, but it was my only chance to get to Elisa. I trusted Penelope with my career, hell, my very life, but I couldn’t risk letting her know about my plans. Even the most inadvertent slip could jeopardize everything—and Elisa’s life was too steep a price to pay. Everything would have to be planned to the smallest detail, but it was possible now. I could get her out.
Firing up my laptop, I took advantage of the free wifi for teachers and sent her an email with two words. April 24th.
I jumped at a knock at my sliding glass balcony door.
Who the…? I sighed, already knowing the answer. Penelope.
I opened the door and stepped out into the night where, sure enough, the girl currently owning my dreams leaned back against my railing. Her legs were fifty-million miles long under those shorts, and her tank top hid next to nothing, but I knew she wasn’t trying to be sexy—she simply was. She pushed her hair out of her face from the ocean breeze and gave me a grin that could have powered the ship.
“Hiya.”
I didn’t bother saying anything when I knew she could read the emotion on my face. How glad I was to see her—how I wished she wasn’t here.
I held up my finger and then walked back inside my bedroom to lock the door from the other teacher I shared the suite with. Westwick barely spoke to me anyway, since he was pretty sure I was too young and inexperienced to be where I was. He was probably right, but Dr. Messina hadn’t thought so, and that was all that mattered.
Then I crooked my finger at her, and she walked in, immediately looking around the room. The walls were thin, so I put on some music through my wireless speakers before I spoke. God, it was like being back in the barracks again.
“How the hell did you manage that?” I asked, motioning to the slider.
“Rope attached to my balcony. Don’t worry, I wore a harness, and it’s hardly the most dangerous thing I’ve done this week.”
I flashed back to that damn ATV jump and nodded. “Which is saying something.”
She shrugged, looking at the papers on my table. “It’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting into with me. You had a pretty accurate overview in those few hours in Vegas.”
Vegas. How the hell was it possible for a word to stir my dick? Easy. It made me think of her under me, her soft gasps, delicate moans, questing hands. As much as I tried to shut off the vision, she wasn’t helping with the way she leaned over that table.
“What are you doing down here, Penelope?” I asked.
She swallowed nervously. “Who’s your roommate?”
I crossed my arms at her stalling technique. “Westwick.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re roommates with that asshat?”
“Not a fan?”
She shook her head. “He was a jerk to Pax and Leah our first term when they missed the ship in Istanbul.” A smile played at her lips. “I may have gotten him back a little, though.”
“Oh?” Now my curiosity was piqued.
“I removed him from the manifest a couple times as we were coming into ports. They wouldn’t let him off without a major get-the-dean hassle, and once I changed it while he was off the ship so he couldn’t get back on.” She shrugged.
I stifled my laugh as I pictured my uptight roommate blustering. “You hold a grudge.”
“Yep.”
“How do you even know how to do that?”
“Brooke did it with me the first time. She’s really good at tech stuff and handles a bunch of coding with our website. Well, handled. She’s way better than I am with computers, but the system on board is pretty simple.”
“So you can just add people to the manifest?” A major piece of the Elisa puzzle clicked into place in my brain, landing with a mixed sense of excitement and guilt for even considering using Penelope in my plan—or carelessly risking her safety if it was discovered.
“Sure, not that it would do them any good without a ship ID, but yeah.”
I mentally added another task to my to-do list and then changed the subject to something safer. “So what has you rappelling to my balcony tonight?”
“I want you,” she said as if it was the simplest truth in the universe. Then she turned around and sat on the edge of the table.
“I’m sorry?” I nearly choked. Definitely not a safer subject. There were different levels of sainthood. I wasn’t sure turning down Penelope—if she was asking for sex—was one I was capable of.
“I. Want. You.” She pronounced each word clearly, then her eyes flew wide, like she realized what had come out. “Oh my God. Not like that. I mean, yes, like that, too, but not what I was going for.”
“You’re going to need to clarify that.” I backed the hell away from her, putting as much distance as I could between us in the small confines of my bedroom. Right now a dip in the Pacific Ocean was looking pretty good.
“Okay, you know the moment in a romantic comedy where one person goes out on a limb, and they put it all out there? Where you’re holding your breath, waiting to see what the other person does? If she’ll forgive him for potentially running her bookstore into the ground, or if she could really be a girl standing in front of a boy…”
“The grand gesture,” I supplied, failing to stop the small grin on my face.
“Right. Whatever. This is mine.”
Oh. Shit.
I tried to steel myself against whatever she was about to say. I told myself not to care that she bit her lip in nervousness, or that her breathing had accelerated. But if the last month had taught me anything, it was that nothing could prepare me for whatever Penelope did.
“I want you,” she said.
“You mentioned that.” Now stop saying it before you’re naked on my bed and I’ve taken this to a point we can’t come back from.
“Shut up,” she snapped. “This is my grand gesture. If you want one of your own you’ll have to wait your turn.”
“And climb the balcony on a moving cruise ship?”
“Oh, come on, that was the easy part!”
Laughter shook my shoulders until she shot me a look that said she didn’t appreciate the humor of the moment. I cleared my throat and gestured for her to continue. “You want me.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so cocky about it.”
The woman was going to be the death of me. “I can guarantee you that any way you use that phrase, I want you more.” You shouldn’t have said that.
“Not your turn, so keep your swoony phrases to yourself.” She pointed at me.
I put my hands up like I was under arrest.
“Right. Okay. I want you, and I mean all of you. I can’t stop thinking that what we have, what we could develop into, is extraordinary. From the moment I saw you in Vegas, I was attracted to you. I mean, come on…what’s not to like? But when you listened to me on the High Roller, and then you jumped, and you put your hands on me…” She blushed the most becoming shade of pink I’d ever seen, and I fought back every urge to cross the distance between us. “Well, we know we’re pretty sexually compatible, unless it wasn’t…you know…for you.”
I somehow found my voice. “It was very for me.”
“Right,” she whispered. “And I know I’m not supposed to want you like I do. I’m not supposed to think about you, dream about you, wonder what you’re doing or who you’re with. But I do.”
She’d just spoken every thought inside my own head.
“I know you’re my teacher. I know I’m your student. I know that on an ethical level, this is wrong. But I’ve never felt right on any other level with anyone besides you.”
My heart pounded and emotion clogged my throat. God, we were so on the same fucking page…but in different books.
“I don’t do this. I don’t chase boys. I don’t make out with boys. I don’t risk my reputation for a guy, or for some fling, and I sure as hell don’t open myself up for rejection. I’m not a normal girl, and I know that. But I think that you’re the only man strong enough to handle every facet of the woman I am. You’re everything I want, everything I need, and I just want the chance to be what you need, too.”
My eyes shut, the longing so strong that I was afraid she’d see it if she looked too closely. I was strong enough for her. I could be exactly what she needed, and we could be extraordinary.
In another time, another place, another situation.
“So I’m telling you. Look at me,” she begged.
I met her level gaze, the plea in the blue depths breaking me down like nothing else could. “Penelope,” I whispered.
“I’m telling you that I’ll do this on your terms. If you say yes, I’ll keep it a secret from everyone I know. I will climb down to your balcony. I will keep my eyes off you in class. I will avoid you in the halls…and I’ll be yours when we’re alone, if you’ll just be mine here in this room. Please…just be mine, because this is real.”
My common sense disappeared, and I was across the room before my better sense could stop me. My hands tunneled through her soft blond hair, her lower body collided with mine, and my gaze dropped to her lips. I’d never wanted to kiss a woman, or claim one, so badly in my entire life.
“There are things you don’t know about me,” I told her, my voice a low, gravelly mess.
“I’ll learn.”
But would she stay once she knew why I was really here?
“There are reasons we can’t do this.”
“We can find a way.”
“Penelope,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against hers, inhaling the citrus and strawberry scent of her hair. Everything in my body, even the very rhythm of my heart, reached for her, begged my sense of honor to give in. It would take one kiss, one word, one touch, and Penelope would be mine. Even if it was only in this room, I could end the torment we were both feeling.
But it could throw us into an even deeper hell.
One slip, and I would be fired. I’d miss my only chance to get to Elisa.
God, would Penelope get expelled? Would the media find out and drag her through the hell of public exposure?
And what kind of man agreed to keep his woman a secret—like she was something to be ashamed of?
“Say yes, Cruz,” she whispered, her breath sweet and tinged with mint.
A knock on the door brought reality crashing back in.
“Delgado. Lindsay Gibson is at the door for you,” Westwick said through the door. He was older by at least a decade and spent most of his time in the ship’s library.
My eyes narrowed slightly. “At nine p.m.?”
“Apparently,” Westwick answered, like I’d asked him.
“Give me a second,” I called out, and sighed in relief when I heard him head back down the hallway.
Penelope backed away slowly, and my hands felt empty for the loss of her. “Go ahead,” she whispered in challenge, tilting her head toward the door. “But whatever it is she wants to ask you at nine at night, your answer will be no.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“Because you want me as badly as I want you—whether or not you’re ready to admit it. And one thing I know about you is that you never settle. What did you tell me? You want something bad enough, you’ll find every opportunity to get it. I’m offering you an opportunity. I know what you’d be risking, and that I’m wrong to even ask you to do it, but I’d never forgive myself if I never told you what I wanted—how I felt.”
Take it. Just once, I could have something—someone of my own. I could grasp this lone moment of happiness and the chance to unravel the complicated nature of Penelope Carstairs.
“I have to get the door. Wait here for me?”
She gave me a sad smile. “Don’t answer the question yet.”
“What?”
“Don’t answer yet because you haven’t decided. And I’m not the kind of girl to ask twice, Cruz. I don’t do vulnerable, and I’m not a masochist. If you tell me no, I won’t ask again.” Her chin tilted up, and I saw the fire in her that had bewitched me in the first place.
Knowing that a woman that fierce was willing to risk it all to ask in the first place nearly took me to my knees. Everything about Penelope was my undoing. It was like she’d been created specifically to torment, tease, and utterly enthrall me.
“Just wait here?” I asked again, knowing it would do me no good to order her around.
I opened the door only wide enough to slide out and found Lindsay waiting for me in the living room of our suite. She looked nervous as hell, her hands folded together as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She had on a green dress that flattered her shape, but nothing about her grabbed my interest. It’s hard to see a star when the full Aurora Borealis shimmers in front of you.
Aurora. That was a good way to look at Penelope, really. You were lucky if you ever got to see her—ever-changing, colorful, impossible to guess her next move, and simply breathtaking to watch.
Maybe focus on the woman in front of you.
“Hey, Lindsay,” I said. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Absolutely!” Oh yeah, that smile was forced. “I was wondering if you wanted to go down to the bar and maybe grab a drink with me?”
Shit. I searched deep for some desire, yearning, or simple want and came up with nothing. Why the hell couldn’t I want someone like her? Someone who wouldn’t get me fired?
Because she isn’t Penelope.
And the truth was, I would have rather been in my room fighting with Penelope than hanging at the bar with Lindsay.
“I’m so sorry, but I was actually heading to bed,” I told her.
Her face fell, and guilt settled in my stomach, low and sour. I couldn’t lead her on. Even if she was the more sensible choice for me, there was no way I’d be able to focus on anyone when Penelope was near.
Because she was the only one I really wanted. It was like I’d taken a hit of whatever drug she was, and it didn’t matter if I was standing in front of Lindsay—Penelope was still racing through my veins.
Shit. Shit. Double, triple, quadruple shit.
“Of course, right. It’s late. What was I thinking?” She rubbed her fingers over her eyebrows.
“I really appreciate the offer. Truly. I don’t have many friends here yet, and you’re doing a great job of being one. Maybe we could grab some of the other faculty and have lunch tomorrow?” I did my best to let her down easily and firmly close that door.
She blinked, but she managed a shaky smile. “Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll…um…just be going.”
I walked her out, thanked her again, and shut the door behind her. The click resonated through me, like I’d shut the door on any other choice but Penelope…who wasn’t really a choice.
She was an inevitability.
I opened my door to find my room was empty, but there was a note on my bed.
I told you so.
Laughter softly shook my shoulders as I tucked the note into my nightstand drawer.
If I pushed aside every ethical and contractual barrier to a relationship with Penelope, could her suggestion really work? No one ever barged in here without knocking. I had a lock on the door. Other than the off chance of someone seeing one of us pulling a Tarzan routine from the side of the ship, there was almost no way we’d get caught if we kept our relationship confined to this room.
If I had her here, knew that this was the one place we could be us, I could control my emotions outside this room. My reactions to her would be more predictable, and any tension outside would be unraveled inside—because we’d know we could have these moments.
Are you fucking insane?
Holy shit, I was justifying my need for her, actually contemplating her proposal.
I had my running shoes on before I realized what I was doing and headed to the gym so I could sweat my thoughts out of my head.
Seven miles later, she was still there.
…
Two days later, I was in hell.
I’d spent the morning hiking up and down the Mayan ruins of Tazumal, doing my best to keep my eyes off Penelope’s ass.
But God damn those shorts. Sure, El Salvador was hot, but my body temp had soared the moment she’d gotten on the bus wearing those. She’d been true to her word—keeping her attention off me unless I was lecturing on the history and importance of the Mayans and the mysterious collapse of their empire.
She’d also been ridiculously close to that Alex guy as her other friends paired off to explore the ruins on their own. I knew there was nothing going on there from Penelope’s side, but his? Yeah, there was some definite interest there, and I didn’t appreciate it.
I’d nearly growled when he offered her a hand up the ruins.
I’d never been a fan of someone touching what was mine.
And there’s that thought again.
It was true, though. Having grown up with next to nothing in the way of material things, I took exceptional care of what I did have, and I didn’t share.
Feeling this territorial over a woman was a whole new arena, though. Not that I hadn’t had relationships, but none that I was willing to risk everything for, none that felt like a foregone conclusion.
“Dr. Delgado?” Casey Barros asked, blinking up at me.
“Casey? What’s up?”
“Do you know how much more we’ll be walking? My feet are killing me.”
A quick glance at her ankle boots sent my eyebrows sky high, but I managed to control my immediate urge to roll my eyes. “You’re welcome to wander for the next half hour, and then we’ll walk back to the bus area.”
“Oh good, I can sit.” She sighed gratefully.
“Perhaps I could suggest more sensible footwear for our next excursion?”
Her cheeks tinged pink. “You’re right. I just thought these were cute.”
“I’m not sure the jungle really cares about cute,” I replied with a grin. “And seeing as we have a three-day excursion to Machu Picchu coming up, I would definitely recommend some sturdy boots that don’t have a four-inch heel.”
“You’re so right.”
Shaking my head, I walked away from the girl to see the ruins on my own, taking the lesser-worn paths. The jungle hung thick with vines that crept over many of the structures, coupled with grass that accompanied every step up the temple, and though I knew thousands had seen the ruins before me, at some angles it almost appeared like I was discovering them for the first time.
Yes, my number one mission on this trip was Elisa. But this? The ability to see this and be here? That was a close second.
Passing by the sheltered stone sculptures, I took a moment at each to snap a few pictures and marvel at the lines carved over a thousand years ago. I spent the majority of my alone time studying the pyramid itself, taking pictures and trying to imagine it in its glory.
The mystery of human migration is what drew me to history. Wars, famine, disease, drought—all were possible reasons for an entire civilization to disappear, or more likely, pick up and move. I’d chosen Latin history for a reason—the Mayans, the Incans, the conquistadors, had all left their mark even to this modern age where sacred, ancient rituals were combined and culturally appropriated by western religion, especially in Peru, where I looked forward to taking my students. What intrigued me was watching the same patterns play out in modern society, just as those refugees who boarded rafts from Cuba or those desperate to escape Syria.
Different centuries and different cultures, but the same drive for survival.
A quick glance at my watch told me I only had another twenty minutes or so on my own—then I’d have to round up the students—so I headed back to the small museum.
I nodded to the students who were studying the artifacts and raised an eyebrow at those who might not be putting their best foot forward.
As I curved around an exhibit, I saw Penelope standing with Alex. Logically, I knew nothing had been going on when I found them together on her birthday. Emotionally, I wanted to put a football field between them so there was zero chance of it ever happening.
I hadn’t given her an answer yet, but that didn’t change the fact that every molecule in my body screamed that she was mine. It wasn’t a matter of want with Penelope, it was a matter of what was right and what was wrong.
Her standing with Alex? So very wrong.
Studying the art display, I listened to her laugh at something he said, and my chest wound a notch tighter. She had the right to speak to whomever she wanted, to kiss whomever she wanted, because I hadn’t said yes or claimed even the smallest part of her. But you could. I was going to turn into a mass of knots if I didn’t make a decision soon.
As Alex walked off, I turned to see Penelope studying another painting, her head tilted as she leaned in toward the art. The exhibit around us was empty, and before I let logic rule, I snagged her hand and pulled her into the nearest room, ignoring her gasp of surprise and finding the light switch before quickly shutting the door behind us.
It was a supply closet. Way to be romantic.
She looked up at me with wide eyes. “We could be caught!”
“There’s no one out there. I looked. There’s no way I’d ruin your reputation.” I brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear.
“It’s not my reputation I’m worried about.” She backed away until she nearly touched the door.
“Yeah, well, no matter what we end up doing, there’s going to be a level of risk to us both.”
“What we end up doing? Have you thought about my question?” A spark lit her eyes, and she stalked forward. I retreated until my back hit the shelves behind me. Great, I could face down the Taliban, but I ran from a blonde in shorts and a smile.
“I’ve been thinking,” I admitted.
“And?”
“And it’s something that deserves a lot of thought. I can’t just come up with an answer for you in two days.”
“Right. I didn’t give you a timeline.”
“I just don’t want you to think that I’m not…thinking.”
“I know you. You’re always thinking. Lots and lots of…thoughts. I don’t expect you to take a chance on me with less than forty-eight hours of contemplation. What I asked you is big. It’s huge, and it puts your career on the line. I respect that. I’m aware of what you’d be risking, and I’m patient.”
A huge sigh of relief escaped, and my shoulders relaxed. “I saw you standing with Alex—”
A playful grin curved her smile. “And you got jealous.” Her fingers marched up the buttons of my short-sleeved shirt.
“Penelope,” I warned, even while I leaned in to her touch. “God, look at us. You made that offer two days ago, and we’re already breaking it in here,” I chided.
“You’re breaking it in here. You pulled me in, remember?”
“So true. You have the innate ability to turn me into a primal caveman.”
“So what are you going to do with me in the supply closet?” she asked, leaning up to run her tongue down the side of my neck.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I somehow managed to keep my hands to myself.
“You see, if you had agreed, then maybe I’d let you steal a kiss in here, where there’s no one to see, no way we could get in trouble.”
My head swam with visions of kissing her, of turning her around and backing her against the door, lifting her legs to wrap around my hips so I could feel her around me.
Not that I’d take her for the first time in a supply closet—I wasn’t an asshole. No, our first time would be in a bed, where I could take the time to worship her the way she deserved.
“Maybe we’d both see it as a prelude to what would come later, when we’d be secluded in your bedroom. But either way, it would be a moment that was just us again; none of this other bullshit about roles and expectations could creep in.”
Her teeth toyed with my earlobe, and my hands flew to her hips, drawing her against me. She kissed the line of my jaw and then backed away, leaving my hands empty.
“But you haven’t agreed, which means this is only a meeting with my professor in a very cramped office space.” She gave me a slow smile that was about to make my cargo shorts entirely too tight. “Pity,” she said, then turned and walked out, shutting the door behind her.
I leaned my head back until it rested against the shelves, willing my heart to stop slamming against my ribs.
At some point I was going to have to stop letting that woman have the last word.
…
“So as we work toward defining your thesis, I’d like you to really open your eyes as we travel through these countries. Don’t focus just on what you find lacking, though there are many more disadvantaged areas than where you’re from, but on what is beautiful about the culture, what makes it unique. Yes, Casey?” I asked the girl on my right and then sat back on my desk.
We were on day two at sea of five before we’d arrive in Peru, and though this was my favorite class to teach, it was hard to keep my attention on the subject matter when Penelope sat ten feet away.
Not that she’d so much as looked at me. She was good to her word, not even making eye contact when we were in class. But it almost made it worse—made me hyperaware of where her eyes were, and where they weren’t.
“Can we pick any country?” Casey asked.
“You can pick any country, any culture, any theme. Just find something that interests you enough for a paper of this magnitude.”
“If we pick Cuba, will you be available for extra help since it’s our last port?”
I could have sworn I heard Penelope snort, and by the look Wilder shot her, I wasn’t far off the mark.
“You’re right—Cuba is our last port, and that is where I’m from. But I’ll be available to you all equally, no matter what your thesis choice is. You guys know my office hours, and if none of those work for you, shoot me an email. Just don’t procrastinate. Your thesis topics are due in three days, when we get to Peru, and I’m not a fan of last-minute pleas for lenience. Anyone already know theirs?”
Half a dozen hands rose—about a quarter of the class.
“Good. If you want to get a jump start, you can submit them via eCampus, and I’ll send you a response so you have time to rework it if you need to.” The clock told me time was up. “That’s it for today. If you haven’t already decided, I strongly suggest you work on a draft before our next class in two days. You guys are dismissed.”
I walked around my desk and busied myself with a stack of papers to keep from watching Penelope walk out. She had on black leggings today that left almost nothing to the imagination, and even though her shirt’s length was adequate for the dress policy, there was enough to send my brain back to Vegas.
Damn it, everything came back to Vegas with that woman.
Would I have been so attracted to her now if we hadn’t already had that night? She was beautiful, there was no denying it, but maybe if I hadn’t gone to that bar, or said yes when she asked me, I could resist now. She would have been just another student. If I didn’t know how stubborn she was, how driven, how reckless, how delicately damaged, I would have stood a chance. If I hadn’t held her in my arms, tasted how sweet she was, seen the quiet desperation in her eyes just before the jump, we might be living a different story.
She’d be an amazingly gorgeous student.
I’d be her stoic, uninterested teacher.
And if you believe that lie there’s a bridge in New York I’d like to sell you.
I was pretty damn sure that even if we’d never met then, I would still be as drawn to her now. Chemistry, fate, whatever you wanted to call it—it drew me to Penelope like the North Pole directed a compass point.
“Dr. Delgado?” Her voice brought me out of my thoughts, and I snapped my gaze up to meet her steady, blue one.
“Miss Carstairs?” I swallowed, and hoped it didn’t look like I was trying to reclaim my tongue. Her hair was swept up on her head, but small, wavy tendrils had worked their way free, dusting her cheeks and shoulders. This woman was sexy without even trying for it.
“I was hoping I could run my thesis topic by you?” she asked, glancing down at my desk.
I picked up the stack of papers to keep my hands busy—and off her.
“Go ahead.”
“I was thinking about immigration issues and how they affect illegal entry into the U.S. from Latin American countries?”
That had my attention.
I looked at her until I worried the few other students lingering in the room might pick up on the electricity that flickered between us. “And this is influenced by?”
Her teeth raked her lower lip, and I feigned extreme interest in the papers in front of me for my next class.
“A friend of mine who went through a lot more than he should have to become a U.S. citizen,” she said quietly. “I’m planning on examining the immigration wait times and procedures of each of the countries we visit, then comparing illegal immigration numbers based on complications, wait times, proximity, and ease of access.”
Yeah, it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d met her back in Vegas or not. I loved the way she looked at things—academic, stunt-related, even relationship-wise.
Except that you’re the relationship, I reminded myself.
“I think that sounds like a paper I’d very much like to read,” I told her.
“Excellent. I drafted it here, if you wouldn’t mind looking it over before I submit it formally?” She pushed a folded piece of paper across the desk and was gone.
I fielded four more thesis topics, none of which were as defined as Penelope’s, and as my next class shuffled to their seats, I opened Penelope’s thesis suggestion.
Told you I could act professionally in public.
In private? Well, probably not.
I read it twice more before refolding it and putting it in a safe place so it could join its counterpart in my nightstand drawer.
We could do this.
The thought had been bouncing around in my head since she first offered the solution, and now it screamed louder than any other for my attention.
We could be smart. Safe. It would never jeopardize my chance to get to Elisa; in fact, it would actually protect my mission here.
I couldn’t stay away from Penelope any more than she could stay away from me. At some point, we would collide. Wasn’t it better to set off a nuclear blast in the safety of a shelter? A controlled environment?
We were both adults, both capable of keeping a secret. She hadn’t even outed me to her friends about the Ferris wheel. We could do this.
We would do this.
