“Uh, yeah…..” There is a pregnant pause behind the robe. I could almost hear him blush.

But what I didn't know was, between the blush, Clay had a huge smile and a sparkle in his eye.

“Let’s just keep that to ourselves.”

“Most gladly!” I giggle.

I turn my back to the robe and move the blanket across my shoulders and onto the floor. My rumpled garments follow and I put on the suit.

“Ok, Sweetness,” I say as I turn my head and lean out one arm to accept the robe. When both sleeves are on, his arms wrap the robe around me and he kisses my cheek as he ties the sash.

We walk through the parlor and out to the hot tub, where we lay our robes nearby. Clay helps me in first and I sit on the far side, then I get to watch him dip one leg in, then the other, and then slowly lower himself up to his neck. Then he stares at me, dips his head under water, and comes up running his fingers back through his hair. I feel my dark side bubbling up.

“That was truly cruel of you, Baby,” I say. He giggles and winks at me, knowing exactly what he did.

“You are an incredible tease.” I continue with a wink and smile. “Don't ever change.”

I reach over and turn on the jets, and we both settle back to relax as the steam starts to rise.

I close my eyes and lean against the headrest, and think about how wonderful these moments have been. I open my eyes and stare across at him, just examining what I could see, starting from the top with his strawberry hair, brows and eyelashes; forehead all dotted with freckles; his jawline and cheeks, with a glimpse of ear; neck gifted with two lovely little adam's apples; and especially the few auburn hairsies just below the little notch in his neck. I close my eyes again and settle back onto the headrest.

Then, I feel Baby's toes touch my toes. I start to move them out of the way, but then both his feet stop me. I slowly put them back down, and he gently lays those 13-and-a-halfs on top of mine. I settle a moment, then move one foot out from under and lay it on top of his.

The only thought I had was from Steve Martin in “L.A. Story:”

“Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, most wonderful, wonderful, and yet again.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After soaking a while, I speak up.

“Clay?” He doesn't stir. “Baby?”

He slowly lifts his head from the headrest and sleepily responds. “Yes, honey...what is it?”

I pause a moment. “Remember up on deck, I said that I should make you tell me your life story to prove it's really you?”

“Yes – that was right after I kissed you,” he snickers through a yawn.

“Clay...I know it's you,” I started sheepishly, “but...will you tell me your life story anyway? As much of it as you want to tell me?”

He slowly sits up straight and looks right at me. “Would you please give me your hands?” I sit up and comply.

“I would be happy to share with you anything you want to know, but I have one condition.”

“Oh, it's a given that I'll keep it to myself,” I respond. “I won't tell anyone. Well heck, who am I going to tell?”

“No honey, that's not it,” he replies with a snicker in his voice. He pauses, then a soft look comes to his eyes.

“I'll tell you everything about me, if you tell me everything about you.”

At first, I'm surprised. “Me? Everything?” Then after a couple moments comprehension, my love for this man bursts from my heart.

“Baby, for you, anything.”

He smiles and squeezes my hands, then we reach out for a tender kiss.

Over the next few hours, we shared so much about ourselves. In the hot tub and lying on the lounges, we talked about our childhoods, our families, our beliefs. Giovanni set up a delicious lunch, and over our meal, we shared joys and sorrows, gains and losses, confided a few fears and even a couple secrets, like how much he really lurks. It may sound trite, but we did laugh and cry. It was amazing how honest and straightforward we were, and we clicked on so many levels.

After so long, there was still so much more to say, but as the sun hung lower in the sky, we realized that evening was approaching and that we should start moving along toward those activities. We knew we'd pick the conversation back up during dinner. We finally came in from the balcony and headed for the Bath again to rinse the chlorine and salt air off us.

As I hung both robes on the doorhook, Clay opens the shower door and grabs a bottle of tropical aromatherapy shower gel. He makes a motion and the hot water starts pouring down from above. He squeezes a good amount in his large hand and lets the gel get rinsed away under the deluge, leaving a lingering scent in the steam. Clay closes the door and the steam begins to cloud the glass.

He reaches his arm around my waist and gently pulls me toward him, then up to his lips, at first with a tender kiss, then we connect in a lecherous liplock. My arms wrap around his lanky torso tight and our hearts pound against each other. I become lost in the moment, anxious for more. He frees one arm long enough to open the shower door. With a gentle push of his hand on the small of my back, I enter the shower, close my eyes and let the water soak my hair and suit. I realize after a couple moments that he hasn't touched me. I open my eyes and discover Clay's not with me.

“Clay? Baby?” I say, then I open the shower door in enough time to see him almost out of the room.

“Baby? Aren't...Aren't you...?”

“No Honey,” he says in a hospitable, almost detached tone. “You have a nice shower and I'll take one when you're done. I've left a towel and your robe within reach.” With a smile, he closes the Bathroom door.

He didn't... I think. He didn't just...

Yes, he did.

“CLAYTON HOLMES AIKEN, YOU TEASE!!” I yell at the top of my lungs over the noisy shower. “YOU CRUEL, SHAMELESS, AWFUL, TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE HORRIBLE TEASE!!” I close the shower door and begin cleaning up. My thoughts are filled with a bit of anger and a whole lot of frustration.

“I am SO going to get you for this,” I mutter to myself over and over again.

By now, Clay has walked out onto the balcony and let the loud rush of seawater drown out my thoughts. He chuckles under his breath, proud of what he just pulled off.

Then a wave of realization comes over him. “Oh goodness,” he ponders. “I'd better make sure my robe and towel are nearby when I'm in the shower. Better safe than sorry.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Clay?” I call as I finish applying my lipstick in the Bathroom mirror. “Clayton?”

“I’ll be right there, honey. Just one minute.”

In the mirror, I see him walk into the room. With his emerald robe and still-damp strawberry hair neatly combed back, he looks like a Greek god.

“Don't you mean a “Geek god?” he says.

I chuckle. It's hard to stay mad at him. “I meant exactly what I thought, and no amount of self-depricating humor is going to take it from me. I wish you could see what I see.”

He takes my hand and runs his eyes over me a moment, then leans next to my ear and speaks in a low voice.

“I see that even though you’re beautiful in that robe, we need to get you dressed.”

Then he takes a slow, deep breath. “Oh, my -- you smell amazing.” A little evil grin comes over his face.

“Unfortunately, with no help from you,” I respond, as I give him the evil eye and an unintentional smile.

He turns and we walk into the bedroom.

Oh, that’s right – the boxes, I manage to remember. “At least you made me forget all about the wait.”

Clay's evil grin gets bigger.

He sits me on the edge of the bed next to the silver box and I smile a bit in anticipation. I slide my hands over the smooth parcel, then glide under the flap and lift the lid part-way up.

From behind me I hear in a slow, sticky-sweet southern drawl, “Oh, how I’d like to be that box right about now.”

I stop what I’m doing and look back at him, then give him a heavy dose of “optical fornication.” His eyes widen as he reads the naughty suggestions going through my mind.

“Hey, wait a minute. Sorry honey, but we’ll never get to dinner if we do that.”

I don't let up and keep staring. “There’s always....Room Service.”

He gets even more flustered. “Goodness gracious, I may have to hose you down! I’m sorry I started that. I didn't mean to get you so riled up. What a debacle I've created.”

“WHAT.......did you say?”

I significantly intensify the naughtiness at hearing “that word.” I threw thoughts that would make a Broad blush and continued staring at Clayton with evil eyes and a sly grin. Now he really looks scared and takes a step back.

“Wha-, what are you talking about?!? Debacle isn’t a verb! Mink-lined handcuffs? Krispy Kremes, WHERE?? Oh, goodness, what have I done. Please – p-please honey, open the box – I-I know you’ll love it. I am SO sorry I was such a tease.”

Now I get to give him the big cheshire-cat grin.

“Gotcha! We're even now, Sweetie.”

With a mild wave of relief, but his chest still pounding, he takes a couple deep breaths and then blurts, “Ok, Honey....you got me. You got me good...um, well...um, whatever. Um, I'm going into the bathroom and get dressed while you finish opening that box...and...and I think I'll lock the door just to be safe.” He turns around then looks down, relieved. “Oh, thank goodness I didn't leave a puddle on the floor.” I laugh hysterically as he closes the door behind him.

After I finally finish laughing, I open the box and there sits a beautiful black velvet bodice, neatly folded. I lift the dress out and see slim, long sleeves and layers of white chiffon flow out of the box.

“Oh my! Clay, this is exquisite!” I exclaim. I spread the dress out on the bed and just stare at it, admiring the black details on the skirt and smoothing my hand over the fabric. I look in the box again and pull out a pair of delicate black high-heeled dress shoes with crossover straps at the toe and near the ankle. There's also a small box inside. I open it and remove a pair of pure white gloves and a number of black lacy unmentionables. As I remove from the box the sheerest of stockings, complete with seams, I whisper to myself.

“Gracious, Baby - you sure thought of everything.”

His voice responds from the other room. “A lady named Edith helped me!”

I get dressed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I raise the sleeves of the dress onto my shoulders, look into the full-length mirror and gasp. My hands cover my mouth, my eyes widen and I start giggling.

Oh...my...It's THAT dress. It's the dress Grace Kelly wore in ‘Rear Window.’ That beautiful gown that 'was a steal at eleven hundred dollars'! I can hardly contain my exuberance. I pull the gloves on, then wrap the chiffon scarf over my shoulders. I feel like the glamorous princess she was.

Clay knocks and peeks his eyes in. “Are you ready, honey?”

I turn toward the door and stand there, beaming. “Oh, Clay!” I exclaim as he opens the door the rest of the way. “I feel just like a prin-...”

I was suddenly rendered mute – my brain short-circuited. The ELLE picture had nothing on what I saw before me. Clay looked like he had just stepped off a Milan runway, wearing a silk six-button, double-breasted couture tuxedo. The cut of the black jacket perfectly accentuated his lean waist, and the crème-colored trousers draped beautifully over black suede dress slippers. Gold embellishments peeked out from under the pant cuffs. His wavy auburn hair was beautifully combed back, revealing his ever-so-slight sideburns. I had to sit down on the bed.

Thank goodness I’m already dead, because I’d surely be dead now.

Clay walks over, takes my hand and raises me back to standing, then focuses on my eyes.

“Uh, oh,” he says to himself. “Here we go again. I just don't get it.” Then he speaks up, trying to make me focus.

“Honey, it's just me in a tux. You need to breathe again.”

Still so stunned, I instinctively went for the joke. “What...no stripey shirt? No purple tie?”

Clay laughs. “No, not tonight, I'm afraid. Believe me, I tried, but Edith wouldn't let me. She insisted that we match perfectly. However...I did manage to sneak a little something past her.” He reaches deep into his trousers and hands me a silk pocket square.

Purple, with light purple polka dots.

I smile and look at him as I neatly place the square in his breast pocket.

“As a loyal lurker, I would never forget.” he says.

I manage to take a cleansing breath and finally say something coherent. “Clay, have I said yet that you look...well...completely stunning?”

“And have I told you yet that you are the most gorgeous vision I have ever seen?”

I'm touched into silence again by his words. All I can do is reach out and hold him as a thank you.

I don't know exactly how I managed to notice, but I saw an orange glow from the bedroom window. “Baby, I think it's almost sunset. If we're both ready to go – why don't we watch it up on deck.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I'm ready to go,” Clay says. He waves the platinum key as we walk through the Parlor. The door opens. As we walk down the corridor, we are met by an older mortal couple. They stop and stare right at us. The wife spoke with a Northeastern accent.

“Oh Frank, look what a beautiful couple they make. They look like royalty!” She directs her attention to me. “Stunning, dear. Just stunning.” I let out a big grin and a blush and say thank you.

“Yes ma'am,” Clay says as he looks at me. “She's absolutely gorgeous inside and out.” I blush on top of blush.

“Oh, and a sweet-talker, too,” she says to me as she lightly touches my arm. “Don't let this one go, honey.”

Clay and I look eye-to-eye and smile. “I don't ever plan to,” I reply.

The wife gives Clay the onceover with her eyes. “You don't look so bad yourself, honey.” She looks at her husband. “First thing when we get back, we're getting you one of those tuxedos.”

I'm both giddy with the compliments and bewildered. Apparently we can be seen. We chat with them for a few minutes then make our way to the glass elevators amidships.

Once we are standing alone in the elevator lobby, I look at Clay, but I don't need to ask.

“That's another one of my surprises,” Clay answers.

I stand there staring at him.

“Well, how in the world could I possibly not share your extreme beauty with everyone else on board?”

“You sure are spreading it thick there.” I retort. “Tell me, Baby, is that all natural 'Southern Charm,' or did you rehearse while you were changing?” The elevator door opens.

“You don't believe?” he asks as we walk in.

“Believe that I look good? Oh, well at the risk of being conceited, I feel more beautiful than I've ever felt.” I wrap my arms around his slim waist. “And it's not just this exquisite dress that's making me feel that way.”

“And you don't think I or anyone else can see that beauty when they look at you?”

I start to laugh at the irony. “Oh man, why do I suddenly feel like I should be the one asking you that question, Mr. Hot N' Humble.”

Clay can't even bring himself to repeat the nickname.

“Mr. Who?” he asks, accompanied by one of his patented scrunchy looks of confusion.

I shake my head and chuckle. “Never mind. Let's just say that Gladys Knight knew exactly what she was talking about.”

The elevator opens and we walk into the Deck 11 lobby.

“Well,” I say, “regardless of whether either of us wants to be 'seen,' I do like that we're visible. We can walk around and be ourselves and not feel like we're hiding. Meeting new people is what I really love about cruising.”

“I'm glad you feel that way, honey, because going to dinner would have been a little difficult if we showed up invisible.”

I chuckle as we walk out onto the breezy deck and proceed aft. The sun is just starting to disappear below the horizon.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” I say as we walk toward the railing. Clay becomes a bit stiff as we walk, then stops in the middle of the deck.

“What's the matter, Baby?” I ask.

“Well...” he responds with a nervousness in his voice. “I guess this 'mortality,' so to speak, has brought back my fears a bit. Well...I lie. Honey, I can't go any further...farther.” He closes his eyes and takes a couple of nervous deep breaths.

The fear on his face was obvious. Uh oh, this isn't good. I think.

“No kidding,” he replies.

“You're afraid that some force is going to throw you into the water, or worse yet, somehow you'll fling yourself overboard.”

He nervously smiles at me. “Oh, so you do understand.”

I take his hands and stand between him and the view. “Of course I do. I feel the exact same way when I'm flying or anytime I'm up high. I'm so afraid of heights that my blood pressure rises if I even think about it long enough. Sometimes I try to fight it by imagining myself lying face down in a grassy field in a forest, literally hugging the earth. It works better some times than others. Look Baby, we can go back inside if this is too much for you.”

“No – I want us to watch the sunset together,” he says in a determined tone.

“Ok, Sweetie, we'll stand right here. Try to look at me. Focus on my eyes.” Those fearful aqua pools manage to look down into mine.

“I won't let anything happen to you, whether real or imaginary,” I reassure. “Take a couple steps back if that will make you feel better.”

“Good idea,” he replies. Clay takes a few steps back, along with a couple deep breaths.

“Ok, now imagine yourself standing in the desert. It's warm and dry, with sand dunes and mountains around you. No water in site. Just you and miles of arid land. Now...Sweetie...take a few more deep breaths and keep imagining.”

Clay closes his eyes and stands there, quietly concentrating. The fear on his face softens with each exhale.

“Nothing will happen to you, Sweetie. I won't let anything happen to you.” I pause a few moments, then speak again when his face looks calmer.

“Feeling better at all?” I ask. “Do you want to try opening your eyes now? Just look in my eyes again.”

Clay opens his eyes, looks at me and takes a cleansing breath. “Yes, better. Not perfect, but better.”

“Ok, that's good enough.” I say. “I'm certainly not going to push you into moving closer to the railing.”

“Would you do me a favor?” He asks. “Don't say 'push you into...'”

I chuckle once under my breath and stop myself. “Woops, I'm so sorry. You're doing good, Sweetie.”

“WELL...you're doing WELL,” he says.

“Ok, now I know you're better. You're correcting my grammar.” Four years of English class at a private school, you would think I could get that right, I think.

Clayton blushes and smiles. “I'm sorry. Here you are trying to help me. I'm sorry I'm being so ridiculous after everything this afternoon.”

“No apologies at all. I so understand how you're feeling. Like I said, I'm not going to do anything that will make you uncomfortable. I certainly wouldn't want anyone to force me to look down from the Empire State Building.”

I let go of one of his hands and move myself to his side. “Ok Baby, just look at the sun setting. Block out everything else and just look at the sun and know I've got you and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm your anchor. You're not going anywhere.” I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head against his chest. He manages a deep cleansing breath and wraps his arms around me as we watch the sunset.

He leans his head down to me and whispers, “I'm so sorry. I should be trying to make you feel safe.”

“Actually,” I start, “it's really nice to take care of you for once. You've spent all afternoon caring for me, so I'm happy to help you. It always feels good to be needed...to be here for you. And...well...we have eternity to be together, to help each other.”

Baby holds me tighter and doesn't say anything. I look at his jacket.

“Oh goodness, I hadn't noticed.”

“Noticed what?” Clay asks.

“Your pocket square – how funny – in this light, the purple polka dots look orange. I love orange...and purple!” Clayton chuckles. We watch the sky glow a brilliant orange and pink as the sun sinks below the black horizon. I feel his body relax.

“Are you feeling better?” I ask.

“Yes, I am, honey.” He moves to look at my face. “Thanks to you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A couple walk by, talking to each other. “Jerry, we need to get a move on,” the wife says to her husband. “I don't want to be late for the Captain's Gala.”

My head bolts up. “Oh, the Captain's Gala – that's right! Do we have time before dinner?” I ask.

“Oh yes, dinner isn't for another hour and a half or so. Anything you want to do, I want to do.”

“You always know just what to say.” I pause and look at him suspiciously. “But honestly, you also want to get inside, don't you?”

“Definitely,” he replies.

I chuckle and we walk back to the glass elevators. Alone inside the elevator, Clay wraps his long arms around me for a loving hug.

“Thank you for helping me. When you need me, I'll be there for you.” he whispers.

“I know you will. I can only imagine how wonderful eternity will be spent with you.” I reach up and lightly kiss his elfin ear, then his cheek.

The doors open to Deck Three, back to the Grand Lobby. As we stand in the elevator's threshold, we are confronted by a throng of smart-looking passengers – ladies in various long and short fancy outfits and men in dark suits and tuxedos. The din from everyone mingling makes it hard to hear each other.

“Here Baby, I'm good at getting through crowds. Let me handle this.”

Clay chuckles. “I have every confidence that you will navigate us right up to the Captain.”

“Well, maybe to the Cruise Director – or just to a good view,” I reply with a smile. I hold his hand and wind us both through the crowd, making our way to the other side of the Lobby, to the railing at the base of the onyx staircase.

“How's this, Sweetie?” I ask. As I turn around, I see he's holding a small champagne flute.

“That was amazing. You moved around everyone and didn't upset a single person.”

“Ah, it's a gift. Where did you get the champagne?” I ask.

“I picked it up from that waiter we passed as we rounded the back of the stairs.”

“Now I'm impressed. Did your magic keep you from spilling that? You could have told me and I wouldn't have been so aggressive.”

“It was a challenge, but I managed. Actually, I took a sip to help keep it from spilling. I got it for you, though.”

I giggle. “Oh, I wish I could have seen those moves. I'll probably only have a sip or two. Would you share it with me?”

“Sure, we can share. I'll probably only have a sip or two, also.”

From our conversations on the balcony, we both knew why neither of us will drink more than that.

I hold the glass as we stand by the stairs. The crowd gets even thicker for the imminent presentation. Above, we see passengers lining every inch of the two mezzanines. To our right, near the Purser's Desk, a long line of passengers are waiting their turns to take formal pictures. Clay wraps his arms around me from behind as we lose space around us.

Soon, the Cruise Director introduces himself and welcomes all the passengers. He then takes his time to introduce the Senior Staff: the Executive Chef and his assistants, the head Sommellier, the Facilities Manager, the Social Hostess, the Hotel Manager, and then the Master of the Ship.

“The Master?” Clay asks into my ear.

“Yes, that's what they call the Captain, just like the Chief Purser is now called the Hotel Manager.”

Just as I answered him, the Cruise Director explains the semantics almost word-for-word. Clay's eyes widen and I snicker.

A huge round of applause erupts as the Captain steps forward to give his toast. As I raise the flute with my right hand, Clay left hand joins mine and my hand disappears. I hadn't noticed until that moment just how much bigger his hands were. When the presentation ended, everyone once again mingled, though many quickly made their way to First Seating dinner. We continue to stand by the staircase and peoplewatch.

“How many cruises did you say you've taken?” he asks. “Why do I get the feeling that you could do the Cruise Director's job.”

“I've been on seven. Eight if you count being here. And yes, I think it would be wild to be a Cruise Director, but I think I'd rather be the Social Hostess. It's a little shallow to say, and I'm positive there's far more work to the position than it looks, but I would like it because you get to wear pretty dresses and seat people at the Captain's Table. I'd be the gal with the connections.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you would make a wonderful Social Hostess. You're knowledgeable, you like talking to people, and, well, you wouldn't have to worry at all about wearing pretty dresses.”

I'm rendered speechless again. There's just no end to his charm.

And I get to spend eternity hearing it. Lord -- I don't know what I did to deserve this, but thank you. A tear wells up in my eye.

He holds me tighter as the crowd disburses.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I'm so happy, I feel like dancing.” I say.

“That sounds wonderful. I can show you off on the dance floor.”

In order to avoid walking on deck, we make our way through a corridor of cabins to the forward elevator lobby and ride up with about eight other passengers – one of which is the gentleman that made Clay laugh earlier. I knew we were in trouble when Clay spotted him. Once in the elevator, I can hear a giggle well up within him and I squeeze his hand in a vain attempt to quell the chuckle, harder as his volume rose. The gentleman looks over at us with the same bewildered look on his face. Well, that did me in, too. I closed my eyes and used every bit of fortitude to keep from laughing. It was the longest elevator ride ever.

Fortunately, he and the last of the others exited on Deck 9. The second the doors closed, the two of us fully released our laughter. We continued to laugh as the doors on Deck 11 opened, and the group waiting looked at us funny.

Amused by our laughter, a lady interjects, “What's so funny you two? Did you just come from the comedy show?”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I replied. “No, we haven't – it's sort of an inside joke.”

She seemed to accept that answer graciously as she stepped into the elevator. “Well, you two kids have a great night.”

“Thanks, we already are.” Clay responds.

“Cruises are the spice of life,” the lady says as the doors shut.

We finally manage to compose ourselves enough to hear the music playing in the lounge. Clay holds out and I take his arm, and we walk in like king and queen of the ball. We find open chairs in the second row and get comfortable. On the stage was a three-piece ensemble, with the pianist on lead vocals.

“We're here tonight to take you back to a simpler place and time,” the vocalist said as he segued into the next song. He began to play.

And, now, the purple dusk of twilight time

Steals across the meadows of my heart

“Stardust,” I whisper to myself. The crowd begins to applaud.

“Thank you...” the vocalist says, then continues.

Clay stands up and offers his hand. I accept and we walk to the dance floor. I feel his left hand in mine and his right against my back. We stare, smile and glide with the others around the dance floor. Time seemed to stand still – only we and the song existed.

When our love was new

And each kiss, an inspiration

Each song was a standard – each a treasure. Stormy Weather, Moon River, Sentimental Journey, Moonlight Serenade and so many others that few of our ages would ever come to know, much less adore. Gliding around the floor, lost in the melodies, the way we looked at each other and held each other, we realized we were both old souls that found each other. We never stopped dancing until the band's set was over, and we realized that over an hour had passed.

“Honey, it's nearly time for dinner,” Clay says during the last song.

“You mean we can't do this all night?” I say in my haze.

He leans to my ear, “I have other plans for all night.”

My haze quickly lifts, and a familiar rush flows through me.

We walk back to the table to gather my things. Clay wraps the scarf around me as I put on my gloves. I place my hand in the crook of Clay's arm and we walk toward the stage, up to the band.

“Thank you very much guys, you were great. It's not often you get to hear that kind of music played live.”

Clay reaches out and shakes each of their hands, then allows me to do the same.

“Yes, thank you,” I say. “The music was just beautiful.”

“Thanks a lot,” said the vocalist. “From how the two of you kept dancing, this must be a very special night.”

The guitar player interjected, “Yeah, the way you two were beaming, it was almost...other-worldly. Everyone else dancing was watching, and it seemed made them happier.”

“Oh my goodness, really? Everyone was watching us?” I blush and look at Clay as he touches my hand.

“Yes, it is a special day for both of us,” Clay responds. “Thank you again and keep performing those standards.”

Then Clay looks at me. “Well, honey, we should be off to dinner.”

“Have a wonderful evening and enjoy your dinner,” said the vocalist.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We walk out of the lounge and into an open elevator.

“The dining room is on Decks Four and Five,” I say. “Do you know what table we're seated at?”

Clay presses Three. “We're not going to the dining room, honey,” he replies.

I pause and stare at the lit button for a moment.

“Three?” I ask in a knowing tone, smiling.

“I guess I'm not going to surprise you with this, am I?”

We walk the corridor and through the Lobby until we are once again in the SS United States restaurant. Clay gives the Matre 'd his name. “Oh, yes, Mr. Aiken, we've been expecting you.” The Matre 'd motions for us to follow him.

I expect to head straight into the restaurant, but instead we are taken to the right – into the private “Wine Cellar Room.” We are seated at an oversized table for four, set exquisitely for two, with pink roses and white candles for the centerpiece. The Matre 'd takes my wrap and gloves while Clayton pulls out my chair and seats me. The Matre 'd assists Clay to his chair on my left.

“I see you do still have a few surprises up your sleeve, Sweetie. I didn't expect this. This room is very exclusive.”

Clay gives me a sly smile. “Giovanni has VERY good connections.”

A little hunger pang hits me from the wonderful aromas in the restaurant. “Oh my, I didn't realize until now how hungry I am.”

Clay looks in my eyes, leans toward me and runs the back of his fingers over my cheek. “That will be fixed very soon, hold on just a few more minutes.”

I place my hand over his and lean toward him. “This is all so wonderful. Thank you, Sweetness.” We give each other a long loving kiss.

A throat clears from across the room – a woman's throat. Clay smiles at me, then we both look over at the lanky young waitress with blonde babyfuzz for hair.

My eyes widen, then I look at Clay. “You really have thought of everything! Did Giovanni help with this, too?” Clay smiles and nods yes.

“Eva!” I exclaim, “Eva, it's you!” I get up from my chair and give her a hug. “It's so good to see you.”

Clay followed what his mom taught him about standing up when ladies are standing.

“It's so good to see you, too,” Eva replies in her Ukranian accent. “My fiance told me you were aboard and he arranged for me to serve you.”

“You're engaged now! Congratulations, I hope you two will be very happy.” I give her another hug.

I turn to Clay. “Baby, this is Eva. She was my waitress on my last cruise. We try to keep in touch by email. She told me she had transferred to Infinity.” I turn to Eva again. “Eva, this is Clay.”

Clay takes a step over and shakes her hand. “It's very nice to meet you, Eva. Thank you so much for taking care of us tonight. It's pretty obvious you've made her very happy.”

“It's very nice to meet you Clay. It's always a treat to see familiar faces onboard.” Eva pauses. “Well now, you two sit back down and I will bring out your appetizers.” Eva looks at me and gives me a little nudge with her elbow. “Your entire meal has already been arranged,” Eva says with a sly smile, then leaves the room as we're still standing.

I take a step and hold Clay. “Is there anything you haven't thought of?” A couple tears well up in my eyes. “I don't know what to say except thank you. You've been so attentive that I'm speechless.”

Clay gives me a smile, but there was something else in his eyes. “I'm glad you're pleased, honey, but it's just what any man should do for his Lady Love.”

I pause and think about the wonderful ladies who molded this beautiful man.

“I wish I could thank your mom and grandmother.”

Clay smiles. “I'll be sure to let them know. Here, let's sit you back down.”

He just gets comfortable in his own chair when Eva arrives with two large plates.

“Goat cheese souffle – enjoy.”

The dinner progresses at a slowed pace, reminiscent of the classic leisurely dining experience. Eva makes sure our drinks and bread plates are never empty. We savor each mild, smooth bite of the souffle. The table is cleared and we talk for a while. Then, Eva wheels in a large serving table, where behind a large metal dome, she cuts and arranges slice after slice of tenderloin, then drizzles rich Bordeaux sauce.

“Chateaubriand for Two with Yorkshire Pudding,” Eva presents to us. She then quietly closes the dome and wheels her cart out of the room. The beef is so tender and perfectly cooked that you can cut it with a fork. The sauce perfectly compliments the meat. Clayton devours his plateful and I give him a slice of mine. By now, I'm starting to get full.

After a while, Eva removes our dishes and once again leaves us for a while between courses, which gives us time for a little flirting, a little footsies under the table, and couple of kisses. I realize that I'm again becoming lost in the moment. A warmth arises within me that I cannot hide.

“Baby, you'd better turn that charm down a couple notches. I may not want to finish dinner.”

“What? You can't handle a little flirting?” Clay says as his hand reaches my knee. Even through layers of chiffon, I can feel the warmth of his hand. Almost instinctively, I slide my leg toward him, and his hand slides to the inside of my thigh. He watches my expression -- it's impossible to hide the flush coming over me. I'm glad the tablecloth is long.

A few moments later, Eva walks in with a large glass-covered cart. I sit up straight and compose myself while Clay's hand leaves my leg. He smiles, knowing he has me wrapped around his finger. Eva begins to slice and arrange a number of different cheeses, fruit and bread slices onto plates.

After she presents the plates, I ask, looking at Clay, “Eva, can I assume these are fuji apples?”

“Of course they are. There was a special request.” Eva describes each cheese, then again leaves us to enjoy our third course.

I layer a slice of bleu cheese and apple onto a small bread slice. “Try this, Baby.”

Clay's eyes pierce mine as he takes a slow bite. My dark side seems to be bubbling like a fountain now, no thanks to him.

“Well, hmm, maybe that wasn't such a good idea,” I say, trying to fight my feelings.

He chuckles. “Ok, I'm sorry, honey. I'm making you a little uncomfortable. I'll take it down a couple degrees...but I can't help it when you're next to me.”

Cruel, cruel boy, you are. I take a deep breath and change the subject, desperately trying to regain my composure.

“Anyway, Infinity is 91,000 tons, over 900 feet long and over 100 feet wide. She carries almost 2000 passengers, and her passenger to crew ratio is 2:1. Her sister ships are Millennium...”

“Honey...”

“Summit,”

“Honey...”

“and Constellation.”

Clay sits back in his chair and laughs. “Honey, just shut up and eat your cheese.”

“She...” I pause and smile. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

“YES. I. DID.” he says with wide eyes and a smile.

I can't get the silly grin off my face. “Well, you started it with this relentless flirting. I had to think of something to talk about. I'm at the disadvantage, and I don't know what to do or think anymore when you tease me. I certainly wish I could keep some of my thoughts to myself.”

Clay laughs again, “Ok, ok, this time I mean it. I'll be nice. But honey, you have to realize something -- this is not teasing.”

We finish our course and Eva returns with dessert. She sets the metal dish in front of me. “Now be careful, the plate is very hot.”

“Yes, I sure was hoping for chocolate souffle,” I look over at Clay's smile.

“And crème brulee' for you, Clay. Enjoy.”

“Oh yes, you're allergies. After what happened on deck, I won't ask if you want a bite -- not unless you want me to. If you weren't going to have the souffle, crème brulee' is definitely your next best choice. It looks delicious.”

Clay takes his spoon and cracks through the thin burned sugar topping, into the velvety custard, then lifts the spoon toward me.

“Here honey, I can see there's no way I'm going to get away with not giving you a bite of this.”

“Oh no, I'm not going to eat the first bite, Sweetie. Please go ahead.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in a most tempting manner.

“Now you said you'd curb it, Baby. I don't think you're even trying.” I smile. “Really, I'm sure. I want to see how you like it.”

“Ok, you had your chance.” He looks right at me and slowly takes the spoonful in his mouth, then rolls the dessert on his tongue. His head lowers and his eyes close, savoring the sweet, smooth custard.

“Mmm” is all he can say, until he swallows and takes a deep breath. “What was that word you used earlier, honey?” He pauses. “Exquisite...that's it...exquisite. That is the best dessert I have ever tasted.”

“We may want to call Eva in here for another order of it!” I joke.

“Aren't you going to eat your dessert?”

“Oh, of course! I was just so enjoying watching your expression as you took that bite.”

How does he do that? He doesn't need to say a thing and he turns me on. Clayton watches me as I take my spoon and dig into my fluffy chocolate delight, absorbing every flavor on my palate.

I don't know what was better, the desserts, or just watching each other savoring our desserts. I don't even know how we managed to stay in our seats and not ravage each other, much less talk to Eva when she cleared our very empty plates. We both hugged Eva goodbye at the restaurant entrance.

Standing in the Lobby, somehow we managed to agree to see what was going on in the Theater. I'm pretty sure it was Clay's idea.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The three-deck theater glows a bright yellow-gold this evening. Its walls are lined with small niches containing realistic-looking flames. The seats are long lounge-style settees, rather than auditorium style. The enormous royal-blue stage curtain matches the seats. We look up at the metal ceiling fixture – it's many pinpoints of light resemble a starry night sky.

A group is sitting close to the stage, and a man stands onstage next to a piano with several thick books open upon it. We walk down the aisle and find an empty settee behind the group. Clay helps me sit down, and we enjoy several monologues from both classic and modern plays.

After the third or fourth presentation, while the gentleman is looking through a book, Clay leans into me. “Honey, I'll be right back. I'm going to talk with him for a minute.”

Clay approaches him from stage left and talks with him briefly. The man nods and smiles, Clay walks off the stage, back to me and quietly sits down. I notice he’s not smiling.

The Thespian finds a page, reads a moment, then steps forward and begins to recite aloud.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet 33 –

Shakespeare! I thought, smiling as I grab Clayton’s hand. I’ve always had a fondness for Shakespeare. How nice of you to do that.

Clay smiles a little, but doesn't say anything.

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;

I feel so content. I lean my head against Baby’s shoulder.

Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide

Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:

I sit back up, troubled. He’s talking about seeing Clay…seeing mortal Clay...about NOT seeing Clay.

Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
But out, alack! he was but one hour mine;

The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.

“Please, no.” I whisper as a prayer. Clay's head and eyelashes drop down a bit.

Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.

He looks over to see tears streaming down my face. I turn to look at him.

“No…”

“I wish it weren’t true. We both are going back.”

“When?” I whisper.

He takes my hand in an effort to reassure me. “Not right now, honey. Noon tomorrow -- 24 hours from when you arrived.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m returning to Mortal Clay’s soul.”

“I can’t stay here with you.”

“Neither of us can stay. I'm so sorry.”

I look at him and start to get angry. “Excuse me,” I say, getting up from my chair and into the aisle.

“Honey, please wait,” he calls as I run toward the exit. Clay follows and manages to catch up with me just as I get outside on the Promenade Deck, where the loud rush of the sea hits his ears and the white hull of an enormous lifeboat hangs above us. He catches my arm to stop me.

“Honey, please wait.”

“How – how could you not tell me up front?” I yell at him through tears. “Of all people I thought would have been honest with me, you knew and didn't tell me!”

“You have to believe me, I thought you knew until you mentioned “eternity” at sunset. I needed a little time to figure out what to do and how to tell you. At that moment, all I wanted was for us to enjoy being together and I knew it would break your heart.”

“You should've told me right then and there, dammit.”

Now Clay starts getting upset. “Really – while we were holding each other, you would've wanted me to just come out and say, 'No honey, it's only for today'? You really would've wanted me to say it at that moment? Let's not forget that I was having a little crisis of my own right then.”

There's not a lot for me to say. I know he's right, but it still hurts so bad.

“Clay, I need a little time to myself.”

“Are you sure?” he says. “Can't we please go inside and talk about it?”

“Please, just leave me alone right now.” With that, I pass by him, go back inside and run down the stairs. Clay comes back inside and leans against a wall.

With his head hung down, he prays.

Lord, I think I'm going to need Your help here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Almost an hour passes and Clay's back in the suite, tired of second-guessing himself. He looks at the digital clock on the VCR. He had hoped I'd be back by now. He gets up and waves the platinum key as he rushes through the doorway. In the Aft Elevator Lobby, he looks at the directory of public rooms.

Please help me find her. This ship is so big. He pauses a moment to think.

Ok, the closer I am, the more I can hear her thoughts. So then, I'll start at the top and work my way down. Oh, goodness, I hope she's not out on deck.

The elevator opens and he presses the 11 button. Halfway up the elevator, he senses something and quickly hits the next floor button and gets off at Deck Nine.

I hear you a little, honey – where are you?

He walks the entire length of the ship, hoping for a better signal, checking each public room, then takes the stairs down to Eight and walks aft. He can feel me closer little by little as he approaches Midship. He comes to a glass door labeled NOTES.

She's close. Oh goodness, she's still hurting so bad.

Clay quietly opens the door to the music library. A number of comfortable music stations with earphones are nearby.

That's strange, she's close, but the room is empty. Then he sees the curved stairs downward. He peers down the railing to the open area below, where walls are filled with racks of CDs and an area filled with more stations -- and me -- head down, headphones on, hand covering face.

Thank you. Now just what do I say?

He walks down the stairs slowly, quietly, trying to assess the situation. At the base of the stairs, it almost looks like I've fallen asleep – not a movement, yet so much is flowing through my mind that it's hard for him to pinpoint a thought, that and the music in my head is so loud.

Lord, help us all, but please help her first.

He walks another six feet when I move my hand from my eyes and see him there. He lifts his eyebrows and looks at me as to say, “May I join you?”

My lip quivers as another wave of sadness comes over me, but I rip the headphones off and run to hold him tight.

“Honey, I was getting worried about you. I wish I could take your pain away.”

I let out a few last tears. After an hour, I'm all cried out.

“You standing there made me realize I'd rather be sad with you than without you.”

Clay holds me tighter and strokes my hair to comfort me. I lift my head from his chest and look into those pale tropical eyes.

“Clay – please just kiss me. I don't want to think about leaving you – I just want to be with you for every second more we have.”

“I'm not going anywhere, honey” he says as he leans in for a gentle kiss. My hands reach up to touch his face and hair. My lips part and his mouth follows -- his hands slide up my back and presses me closer to him, both of us in a desperate kiss.

We finally let our mouths part. “There's nothing else on this ship I want to see,” I say.

“There's nothing else I'd rather do than to be with you.” Clay says.

I look back at the music station. Clay lets me go, and while holding one of his hands, we walk over. I pick up the headphones and hand them to Clay. He puts them next to his ear and listens for a few seconds as I'm shutting down the station.

“Manilow?” he asks.

“Yeah. It's 2 a.m. Paradise Cafe. I always play it when I'm depressed. Almost every song is a heart-ripper.”

“No,” Clay says. “Definitely no more of this for you. As long as we're still here, I'll do everything I can to make you happy. I'm YOUR anchor now.”

With a tear in my eye, I reach out from where I stand and wrap one arm around his neck, and the other tightly around his waist. “How could I have been so stupid to waste precious time without you.”

“Don't think of that, honey. It's ok. You needed to let out your emotions. Sometimes taking a few minutes out of our lives for a good cry is the only way we can keep moving forward.”

Clay winds the earphone cord around itself and hands it back to me, and I put it in its drawer. I shut the drawer and look up at him. He gives me a sympathetic smile, hoping for one in return. My eyes soften and my heart melts.

“Clay, I love you so much.”

His eyes soften and blink. “And I love you, too. Let's go home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We get back to the suite, and Clay almost immediately walks over and programs the piano, not bothering to turn on any lights. Moonlight shines into the room. By the time the classical piece starts, he takes me in his arms and we begin to dance so very close. My arms wrap tight around his thin torso, and my head leans against his chest. Clay's arms wrap securely around me and he lightly rests his chin against my hair. The shadow formed against the wall is of one body.

After the first few songs, a more modern ballad plays.

“This is a beautiful melody. What is it?”

“You don't recognize it?” He asks, then begins to quietly sing.

Sometimes its so hard to believe when the nights can be so long

and faith gave me the strength and kept me going on...

Love of My Life. I have no idea how I could have forgotten.

Clay continues. His soft eyes look into mine as he quietly sings the second verse.

Now here you are, with midnight closing in

You take my hand as our shadows dance,

with moonlight on your skin.

The look in in your eyes,

I'm lost inside your kiss.

To think if I'd never met you,

about all the things I'd miss

My heart beats faster, and another familiar rush overthrows me. I lean my head into his chest.

When the song ends, there is a pause between songs.

“I could listen to that all night,” I whisper.

“I'll whisper it to you all night.”

The piano then starts to play a series of slow chords – the long, slow, melodic prelude to Could It Be Magic. We both know we no longer want to dance -- we need more. We move toward the black piano bench. Clay sits down, parts his legs and I stand inside. My fingers run through his hair and caress his face while his hands run up my back, then down over my hips. We keep staring at each other, except when a touch instinctively makes us close our eyes. I kiss his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, then tease his ear with my tongue and warm breath, lightly taking his earlobe between my lips. He lets out a pale sigh and holds me even tighter. I could feel his desire fully realized, straining against his trousers.

I take a step back and touch his knee. His legs come together and I move forward, lift my skirt a bit and gently sit myself on his lap. We both wrap our arms completely around each other, and we just sit there motionless, letting the music flow through us, absorbing the feel of each other's bodies – feeling our hearts pound against each other – listen to each other's breathing. I feel the zipper on my dress lower and Clay's hands slide inside, my spine tenses and relaxes with his caress.

The music intensifies, and our mouths meet – every cell of our beings craving each other. I fumble with the buttons and furiously pull his jacket from his shoulders as we kiss; his arms flail to assist and it falls onto the bench. My hands caress his face, then neck. With two lucky pulls, his black bowtie dangles around his collar. Unwilling to stop this tide, I then undo the top two buttons of his shirt and start to nuzzle the sweet notch in his neck, my chin and lips feeling soft cinnamon hair. I hear my name float upward. He can hear that all I want to do is lie him down against the piano bench. A third button comes free. When I reach for the fourth, Clay's hands take mine. He's so flushed and breathless – his hair mussed.

“Wait, wait, hold on...” he manages to whisper aloud.

“Clayton...this is a very poor time to start teasing me again.”

“No, no – I'm not teasing. This is amazing, but we have all night. I want to do something for you first, before we get too far.”

“Are you sure about that? I think we're both already too far. I wouldn't want to waste...” I look down and let Clay read the rest of that sentence in my thoughts. “It's just...I've dreamed of being with you. Night and day I've imagined us together.”

Clay holds me and whispers, “I promise you – all I want tonight is to be with you – to love you. Let me do this for you. I know you'll love it, honey.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“You'll see. Do you trust me?”

“Well if you stop teasing me...” I say, then interrupt myself, pause and start over.

“Yes, of course I do – Clay, I love you.”

“And I love you, honey. Just give me a few minutes.”

I let him stand up. He gives me a gentle kiss, then walks to the bedroom, momentarily stopping at the couch to remove the blue blanket. Gentle music lifts again from the piano, and I go sit on the couch.

This better be good, Baby.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A short time later, Clay emerges from the bedroom, backlit by flickering light. He's changed from his suit into emerald silk pajama bottoms – and no shirt – his open robe covers his shoulders.

I sit there quietly, but my dark side within has gone into overdrive and I've all but given up trying to block it. Clay chuckles hearing my thoughts.

“You have remarkable self control, honey.”

“No, you get the prize for that, Baby, but I must be a close second. Your constant testing of my limitations doesn't help – and neither does looking like that.”

Clay walks over to me, takes my hand and I stand.

“There's no need for limitations anymore. I want to hear everything. There is no you and me tonight – only us. I won't hide anything from you. Please don't hide anything from me.” He lifts my chin with his finger to kiss me.

My arms reach up. “Then I guess you won't mind if I do this a minute,” I whisper as my hands can't resist caressing his so-temptingly-displayed chest and stomach, feeling that exquisite cinnamon hair and his hard nipples. Clay's eyes lower and has a shiver. I take my hands away.

“You cruel girl.”

“Just a little payback for making me wait. Well...that and I couldn't help myself.”

He smiles then leads me to the bedroom.

Inside, every candle is flickering, casting a bright glow in the entire room. The blankets have been pulled completely off the bed, leaving only crisp dark chambray blue sheets, several pillows, and the blue blanket, neatly folded. On the one nightstand are colored glass bottles. On the other nightstand sits a tray with a silver decanter and two crystal glasses, as well as a small plate with fruit, cheese, crackers and candy. The room is still strong with the perfume of red roses and calla lillies.

I don't know how I manage to stay standing.

Clay turns me toward him, and he hands me a rose. “Honey, will you let me massage you?”

I'm speechless and spellbound.

“I know you'll enjoy it. It will be very relaxing,” he continues.

I stare into his aqua eyes. Your hands...touching my body...all over...how can I resist such an offer.

Clay smiles in response and looks at me with incredibly gentle eyes.

We stare and smile softly. I reach for the shoulders of my dress and begin to lower them. After about an inch down, Clay's hands meet mine and he smiles.

“Oh, please...this pleasure is all mine.” He takes a step closer and his lips meet mine -- I instinctively reach for his waist. I feel his fingers slide inside the shoulders, slowly peeling the fitted sleeves downward, leaving a few butterfly kisses on my shoulder until my arms are free. With one last gentle tug at my waist, the dress floats to the floor. I stand before him in a simple but shapely black lace strapless bustier and hipsters, my stockings held up by a matching black garter belt.

He takes a step back. I can feel his eyes rake my body as he looks at me.

“My God, honey. You look even more beautiful than I imagined,” he whispers. The look in his eyes told me he was having a difficult time holding back.

I smile a bit. “Why do I suddenly feel that the balance of power has just shifted?”

Then Clay haunts me with a sly grin and six words: “I admit nothing and deny everything.” Our laughter breaks the tension.

“If I may, honey?” Clay says as he sits me on the edge of the bed. He gets down on one knee and proceeds to unclip and slowly remove each stocking, then unhooks the garter. He removes his robe, climbs into the bed, kneeling, then holds out his hand. “Lie here on your stomach.” I climb upon the bed and lie down. The sheets are so soft against my skin and the mattress firmly supports my body. Clay leans down to my ear and I feel his hand on my back.

“You won't be needing this,” he gently says as he begins to unhook the bustier, then slide it out from under me, leaving only my black lace panties. Clay lightly runs his fingers on my bare back. Not expecting such a gentle caress, my muscles tense. I suddenly felt a little vulnerable. An instant later, his entire hand is lightly laying on my back.

“I'm sorry, honey,” he softly says. “I just couldn't resist touching your lovely skin.” He picks up the blue blanket. “Here, maybe this will make you feel more comfortable.” He drapes the blanket over me, then lays next to me, draping his arm over my back. He can sense me relaxing, realizing it was just a temporary startle. I give him a soft smile of acceptance, and he replies with a gentle kiss. He sits up and reaches for a soft, flat pillow and places it under my head, then gets off the bed and chooses one of the glass bottles.

He opens several of the bottles and breathes in each fragrance. The fourth one's unique floral scent struck him as perfect. The bottle was marked “Jasmine.” He climbs back on the bed to my left, lifts part of the blanket off me and drizzles the warm oil on my bare back. I feel his legs, among other parts, straddle my thighs, then his hands begin spreading the oil on my neck, shoulder blades and back. He begins rubbing in long strokes slowly up my spine, outward, then hovers over me, endlessly kneading my neck and shoulders. Every once in a while a few low moans escape from me.

He works more oil into his hands and works from my shoulder down my left arm, then palm, then each finger. He languidly repeats the same technique on the right arm. My thoughts are calm and relaxed, drinking in each caress. Clay then lifts himself off my legs and removes the blanket completely. Standing at the end of the bed, he drizzles more oil on the backs of my legs and a bit more in his hand. He starts with my left foot – flexing and kneading each pressure point – toes – foot – ankle – calf – knee – then thigh. He moves to my right thigh, in sweeping kneading strokes, then moves down my leg – knee, then calf, ankle, foot, and finally finishing with my toes. He puts the blue blanket back on me, and I breathe a heavy sigh of contentment.

Even though I thought I would fall asleep, I'm relaxed and refreshed...and all I want to do is reciprocate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Clay moves around to the other side of the bed and kneels down to look at my face. “How are you feeling, honey?” he asks ever-so gently.

“I feel wonderful.” He leans in and kisses me.

“Now it's your turn,” I say with a smile.

“No honey, you don't have to do that. I want you to relax.”

I lift myself up on my elbows, not realizing that Clay can see a nice hint of cleavage shadowed by the blanket. I reach out to touch his face.

“Baby, I want to. Remember that I'm also happy when I get to take care of you.”

“What? Alright,” he replies. “That's very nice of you, honey. Here, let me help you up.”

Clay comes back around the bed, gently takes me by the waist and helps me to stand. He makes sure the blanket is securely around me.

I look at him with playful eyes. Oh, I've always wanted to say this to you. I pause, though -- all at once I get a little hesitent and my head lowers. Then I remember his words – to not hold back tonight. My bravery returns, and I look at Clayton with a little crooky smile of my own.

“Ok, Baby - strip and lie down.”

He giggles and salutes, “Yes, ma'am. Right away ma'am!”

Ooh, that felt even better than I imagined.

Just as his thumbs reach his waistband, “Oh wait!” I exclaim. Clay stops and gives me a marvelous animated look of confusion.

In a sweep, I move the blanket around me, my body out of his site, and lift it in front of me, blocking my line of sight.

“Ok, go ahead,” I say from behind the blanket.

Clay starts to laugh and nods his head in amusement, then lowers the waistband over his slim hips. The pants float to the floor and he lies face down across the bed.

“Ok, honey.”

I lay the blanket over him, but not before I take a quick peek at his long torso and fuzzy legs, met in the middle by a shapely derriere.

I then look at the different glass bottles: jasmine....rose....sandalwood....bergamot.

Oh, yes – bergamot. That's the one. I open the bottle and take in a long breath. How I love its warm citrusy aroma.

“Baby, is bergamot ok? That's what's in Earl Grey tea.”

“That's fine, honey.”

I stand there with the bottle in my hand, drinking in the situation a moment, then take some of the fragrant oil in my hand.

I'm going to give you a massage you will never forget, on this or any other plane.

I move the blanket upward, revealing the full length of his legs. I start simply enough with his feet, working each toe's pressure points, then I bury my thumbs deep into his arches. I hear a little “mmmm” coming from the other side of the bed.

If you like that, Baby, you have an incredible treat in store.

Ankles are rubbed...

Calves kneaded...

Thighs stroked...

I climb up and straddle his hips, just below what lay hidden by the blanket. I slide the blanket from his back, now only covering his bottom. Leaning forward, I take one finger and lightly graze his skin, slowly sweeping left to right, down from his shoulder blades to the small of his back, and even a little under the blanket. I'm rewarded with two shivers and a light groan.

I open the bottle once again and lightly drizzle the oil on his back. My body leans all the way forward, my spine curves, and my hands take much of my weight as I press my fingers into the base of his neck and work my way outward to his shoulders, downward along his back, then slowly upward against his spine. All through, soft moans rise and my name is whispered.

When I'm finally finished with him, I remove myself from my position and off of the bed to set the bottle down. Clay slowly turns over and sits up -- the blanket discreetly upon him. I hear him exhale a word.

“Amazing.”

He sees me nearly nude and I suddenly feel vulnerable again, wishing the candles didn't cast so much light.

“Honey, you don't need to feel that way. You're so beautiful.” he tenderly responds. “But, if it'll make you feel better...”

Still staring at me, he makes a light blow and a small sweep of his hand. Most of the candles extinguish, leaving only a soft glow, mixed with moonlight. I hear the piano begin to gently play and again witness that serious expression from the couch wash over him.

He outstretches his right hand to me and removes the blanket from himself with his left. I look at him, then let him watch me slowly remove my final garment. I take his hand, kneel into the bed and sit on his legs. The moonshine reflects on our faces and also gives a sheen to our oil-absorbed skin. We sit, kissing, caressing, staring. The fragrant oils begin mixing together to form one heady mutual scent. That strange, but familiar glow returns to the room.

The music on the piano still plays. We embrace, we kiss, and he slowly lies me down lengthwise on the bed. Sighs float between us as we touch. His gentle nuzzles on my neck nearly do me in. I lay butterfly kisses on his two lovely adam's apples, and enjoy the feel of his hard nipples on my tongue. My body begins to move with anticipation as his pink, swollen lips trail slowly downward – each kiss and feel of his warm, wet mouth more exciting and intoxicating than the last. His hands are nearby -- cupping, caressing, teasing, touching. I can't help but sigh his name over and over with each extraordinary sensation.

“Clayton......yes, Clayton...”

He returns to my neck, looks at me with those sparkling, magical eyes and gently outstretches my arms above my head, resting them on the pillows. His body now lies completely on top of mine, from toe to fingertip, his desire again fully realized and swollen, nestled against me. We stare at each other deeply – completely -- and know that this is the moment. Our arms slide down in unison, and we touch each other's face. I feel my knees move outward, until nothing separated us from the inevitable.

We are entangled. The slow melody of Could It Be Magic is again playing on the piano, and we move to its rhythmic beat, helped by the sweet pitch and roll of the ship.

The melody intensifies, as does the love we make, ever increasing. Is the song playing over again? It seems to go on forever.

We keep looking at each other, save for a few waves crashing over us. Clay illuminates brighter from within with every motion, and he sees the glow shine on my face.

The tension within us rises higher and higher – my hands grasp his straining arms harder as each movement brings me ever closer to the edge.

“Clayton......Clayton...”

I hear him endlessly calling me, then I knew we had reached the summit when he breathlessly cries out to me...

“Come for me, my angel...”

We both leap over the edge in a thunderous mutual release that sends waves of shakes and shudders through us.

Still joined, we wrap ourselves tightly together, unwilling to release the other, our heartbeats pounding hard against our chests and in our ears. Our breathing is hard and heavy as dozens of remnant trembles flow between us. All at once, the agony and the ecstasy commingled within me, erupting into one overpowering emotion. I felt tears streaming down my temples, into my hair and ears. Clay moves his head and feels a wetness on his face, then looks at me, hearing my bittersweet thoughts. His own sadness at leaving this place crept over him, but all he wanted to do was comfort me. We look at each other. I could see in his eyes the same feelings, but I so needed that anchor.

He knew he had to take his own advice and remember to believe in the here and now – that one day we would be together again, on this plane or another. It strengthened his resolve.

“We're here now,” he whispered. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Then he stroked my hair, looked into my eyes and told me the most comforting words I needed to hear.

“Honey, I promise you this. One day the two of us will really have forever together. This is just a preview of life everafter – and it will be even better than this.”

The pure joy and comfort that promise held sent more tears streaming, this time of joy. We hold each other tighter and kiss, sealing the promise. His words strengthened my faith and my heart.

With my relief attained, I finally realize something else. I touch Clay's face.

“You are literally luminous. You're the glow I've been seeing.” I pause for a moment as I finish comprehending.

“Oh goodness, I understand now...when you said to me, 'your love makes me beautiful.' The stronger my love, the more you glow.”

“Yes, that's right, honey...” he whispers as he smooths my hair, “...but it also comes from my love for you. And I've been meaning to tell you – you are even more beautiful reflected in that glow.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I awaken sometime later to find him lying with his bare back toward me. His skin is still vibrant, even in shadow, even asleep.

I must be in Heaven – this cannot be a dream. He is here lying with me. We made love... I reach out and place my hand lightly on his back and feel a small current flow through me. I run one fingernail lightly down his spine. He twitches slightly at my touch, then turns over, closer to me.

I gaze at his relaxed face. I don't think I will ever get over how beautiful you are.

He slowly opens his green eyes and sees a tear fall down my cheek. I feel his hand slide up my arm and his thumb wipe away the tear. He shows me another white rose petal.

“Your love makes me beautiful,” he whispers. “No, this is definitely not a dream.”

I’ve never felt such pure joy.

He moves his lips toward mine for one sweet, reassuring kiss, then reaches his arms over and pulls me close. I again feel the small current flow into me as he kisses my forehead. I move my head back, and my heart beats stronger as I reach up to caress his mussed strawberry hair and see a tear in his eye. I reach up to wipe his tear, and find myself holding a white rose petal.

The look in his eyes matched my thoughts, and he gives a smile of agreement. My neck reaches out to meet his pink lips, and my body moves into his. His hand glides across my stomach and up to my breast.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I wake again later to find him spooning against me, his long arms tight around me – the palm of his hand under my face. I stir a moment, and his thumb gently strokes my cheek and nose, then over my eyebrow. I stop stirring and close my eyes. He moves his hand and smooths my hair again and again.

I never knew what the word “shelter” could mean until that moment.

His head moves, and I feel him press a kiss into my hair, then onto the nape of my neck, then settle his head back again. He wraps his hand back under me, holds me tighter and I drift off.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I hear my name and my eyes open a bit. Clay is in silhouette, sitting next to me on the edge of the bed – raw, cowlicky -- looking at me. The room is dark, but glows dimly with the very first light of day.

“Hey Butterfly,” he whispers as he touches my face and hair. “Do you want to see the sunrise, honey?”

“Sunrise?” I whisper, still half asleep. My eyes shut.

He leans down and lays himself over me. His hands slide between the smooth sheets and my bare back, and I feel his arms cross behind me. Instinctively, I reach out to wrap my arms around his back. We lay there quietly entwined, feeling each other breathe. He then gently scoops me up to a sitting position. My head falls into his chest.

He chuckles quietly. “You're not an early riser, are you.”

I smile. “No, I’m not, but give me a minute. I'll wake up more.” We continue to hold each other close.

Then my body pulls back toward the bed, bringing Clayton with me, his chin resting on my shoulder. I whisper as my hands caress his long, smooth back.

“Did I ever tell you that cruise ship beds have a stronger gravitational pull? Who am I to fight the laws of gravity.”

With a chuckle, Clay gives butterfly kisses to my collarbone and up my neck, then gives a gentle, playful bite to my chin and smiles at me.

“And who am I to fight how you wake up?” he says.

We both smile. His mouth reaches mine. My fingertips caress up his spine and neck, then tangle themselves in his soft cinnamon hair. He stands up a bit and moves himself under the covers, over me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I hear the the ocean's rush and notice that the room has become brighter. I lay quietly for a while, reliving every moment since I arrived onboard, not wanting to forget anything. My body is reliving it's own feelings from the night and early morn.

“Clay? Sweetness?” I call out.

A few moments later through the bedroom door I hear a loud whisper, “I'll be right there, honey.”

From the parlor I hear clanking, low voices and a quiet chuckle. The cabin door shuts, then Clay opens the bedroom door and walks around to my side of the bed, wearing the emerald pajamas and his matching robe. I look up at him as he sits and smooths my hair, scanning my face.

“Goodness gracious, you are so gorgeous.”

I flash a bright smile. “Even though I'm all rumpled?”

“Especially because you're all rumpled.” One of those lovely, now-familiar waves courses through me. I can see a wave come over him, reacting to my thoughts, his body also reminiscing.

How do you do that, Baby? I think. I sit up and wrap my arms around him. “Baby, you are so truly amazing.”

I send up a little prayer in my thoughts. Lord, thank you for making a man with so much magic. Thank you for giving him to me, if just for a little while...if just for now.

Clay smiles and we continue to sit quietly a few minutes more.

He breaks the silence. “Now if I can just pull you away from this bed, Giovanni brought up a huge breakfast for us and I'm starving.”

“Oh, breakfast sounds wonderful. I'm hungry, too.” I pause a moment and give Baby a little knowing smirk.

“I have no idea why.” He makes a scrinchy smile and gives me a coy wink.

I start sliding my feet toward the floor as Clay reaches over to the foot of the bed and picks up a blue silk nightgown.

“Here, honey.”

He positions the gown and I slip my arms through, then Clay slides it over my head and down to my waist. I slowly stand up and the long gown falls into place. He then picks up the matching robe and wraps me up like he did in the Bath, complete with the kiss.

“There. Just gorgeous.”

I take in several huge breaths of fresh sea air as Clay sits me at the table on the balcony, beautifully and bountifully set with every breakfast item you can imagine, including grits. An elegant crystal bowl packed tight with many different rosebuds is the table's colorful centerpiece. A small gold box with Clay's name on it sits next to the roses.

“Giovanni apparently also brought up a little present for me, honey. Do you know anything about it?”

I try very hard to not think about its contents. “I may.” I say with a sly grin.

“Oh, so you're going to tease me now?”

“Go ahead and open it before my thoughts give it away.”

Clay opens the box...and finds three Krispy Kreme donuts. His mouth went agape, then an amazed smile lit the outdoors. He grabbed for a donut.

“How did you...” he asks as he takes half of the first donut with one desirous bite. “I mean...we're on a ship!”

“Magic, Baby. Magic.”

He devoured all three, but he let me take the rest of the morning to clean that tasty icing off him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As close to Noon as we could possibly get away with, we slowly, reluctantly make our way back to the Sky Deck, to the spot where we first met. We stand by the railing, holding each other as tightly as two beings can, watching the azure sea pass by us. We see a white cruise ship just off the horizon. My eyes well with tears.

The Noon Horn blows once again. We startle together for only a second, then give each other one last languid kiss.

“I love you, Baby.”

“And I love you, My Butterfly. Remember my promise.”

I smile bravely and we squeeze each other's hands. We let go -- he turns and begins to walk away. A bright light shines from him, but something is also happening to me. A white light blinds me.

I take a huge gasp of air in and sit straight up. The radio blares. I'm in my bed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I try to take care of my mundane chores today, but ever since my experience two weeks ago, I haven't been very functional, except for nearly camping out online with my Broad friends. I haven't had much to say for a while. I want to tell them all about it, but the words never want to be typed. Then there was that crazy day two days later that ended with a small, delicate aqua butterfly tattoo adorning my ankle.

The Broads are buzzing with anticipation for Baby's performance tonight on that beauty pageant. For me, the day couldn't go any slower, but finally the hour arrives and I'm excited beyond words. It's the first performance since everything happened and I couldn't wait to see Clay – Mortal Clay – perform. I start my VCR, then sit back and wade through the contestants. Finally, he's introduced. Out from the shadows he walks to the microphone and begins. At the first closeup, I'm astonished when I see his neck wrapped in an amazing tie.

Purple, with light purple polka dots...that glow orange in the light.

I almost stopped breathing, but kept trying...for him.

I watch transfixed, drinking in every note. “He's luminous,” I manage to expel. He's luminous, and I know why. It's not just my love – it's love from all of us.

The song crescendos, and I feel that incredible, familiar wave overthrow me once again. My eyes close, and I flash back to us holding each other's bare bodies in the candlelight, and feeling the ship move through the sea. I open my eyes again when the audience begins to cheer. Baby's standing in the midst of the hall, beaming, and a spark fires in his eye. I startle, overcome with joy and remembrance, and feel one tear fall from my cheek. I look down at my lap and find two white rose petals.

--THE END--

--------------------------

Extra special thank you to Julie for all her help, feedback and little inspirations, and for just putting up with me talking about this all the time.

Thanks to Kath for the KK inspiration.

Thanks to the Lecherous Broads, with whom I get to share this beautiful puppy-totin' obsession. My home away from home.

Clayton – this one's for you, obviously. You'll never know how much you've inspired me, softened my heart, made me feel young and creative again -- it is aMAzing. You are a gift from God that keeps on giving, whether you choose to believe that or not. Each day is a different emotion I wish I could tell you, but this little story will have to do.

Mark – If you've read this far, I may be in trouble. I love you, Pook.

Mom – I love you and miss you dearly. 35 years with you was not enough, but God knows what He's doing.

Lord – Thank you. I hear You. I know You're taking care of Mom and Dad.

--------------------------

~Entire “Heaven” text posted 11.28.2003~

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