“You have got to be kidding me,” I thought aloud, running a hand through my dark hair.  It was official: life had set out to make me miserable.  Nothing else could explain why—despite all my efforts—I’d run into the one man I’d been trying to get away from.  My first vacation in five years and it was ruined before I even left the dock.

The month before, I’d learned that my boss—and the oblivious love of my life—had fallen into a whirlwind romance with some obnoxious blonde woman and asked her to marry him.  I’d known he was straight.  I’d known this would happen, but the news still came as a shock.

They planned an elaborate wedding at the end of the month—and I planned to be anywhere but there.  Unlike myself, Jake was an adventurer.  His fiancée was just as energetic and they matched well.  It made the situation all the more frustrating.  I simply couldn’t face watching them in their marital bliss.

I spent the ensuing weeks sulking around my apartment and wondering how long my life was going to suck.  After the first wave of heartache had passed however, I decided that I was going to stop moping and start living my life.  By that point, I almost viewed the impending wedding as something positive—at least it would help push me out of my normal, humdrum routine.

As a matter of fact, I was going to start a whole new life!  No longer would I be ‘poor Emi’ or ‘shy Emi.’ Gone would be the days of me being the pitiful research assistant to the man I had pined after for five years.  No, I would be a new man!

So while Jake planned his honeymoon, I planned a vacation of my own.  My first vacation in five years—and I wasn’t going to visit my mother this time!  Nope, I was going to the South Seas!  The remotest island I could find!  (That still had decent plumbing and a place to plug in a computer, of course.  I was civilized, after all.)

And how did life reward my efforts to begin anew?  By having Jake and the insufferable Charlotte inexplicably change their honeymoon plans to coincide conveniently with mine.

The blonde woman squealed cheerfully when she caught sight of me.  So much for trying to hide from them for the entire trip.  “Emile!” she cried, waving.  I frowned inwardly.  I hated being called by my full name.  Granted, ‘Emi’ didn’t exactly have a strong masculine ring to it either, but I had my own reasons for preferring it.

I did my best to smile and quell the piercing ache in my chest as Jake turned to me, deep blue eyes glittering with newlywed bliss.  Every time I saw his eyes, I felt as if the sapphire depths made my own pale blue eyes look like ineffectual bits of glass in comparison.

“What a coincidence!” the man exclaimed, looking far too happy as he wrapped an arm around his new wife and patted me on the shoulder.  No one had the right to look that happy, damn it.  Certainly not the man who’d tortured me with his good looks and easy manners the past several years.  Obviously there was no justice in the world.

“I thought you were going to Hawaii?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded natural.

“Well, we were, but Charlotte wanted somewhere more—exciting,” Jake said with a musical laugh, the laugh I’d grown to know so well as we’d worked together year after year.

Oh dear, I wasn’t really going to have to spent the next two weeks with them, was I?

“I heard they actually still have pirates around here!  Can you imagine?” the blonde woman chirped.  I chose to politely ignore the absurd comment.

“Who would’ve thought we’d end up on the same cruise?  There can’t be more than a hundred people on this ship,” Jake commented.

“Yeah,” I replied, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone, “what are the odds?”

The other man grinned at me then, looking me in the eye as if issuing a challenge, and asked, “Yes, what are the odds?”

I couldn’t help but smile; he knew me too well.  Times like these always made me feel as if there was some deeper connection between us.  We worked so well together, after all.  Math was so much like a dance to me, and Jake had been my partner in that regard (and that regard only) since the moment we’d met at a symposium years ago.  When the opportunity to work as his assistant arose, I jumped at it.  I thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“Well,” I began, after doing the calculations in my head, “taking all factors into account, I’d say about a hundred-thousand, nine-hundred twenty to one… roughly.”

Jake chuckled and smiled, and I felt that familiar little thrill in my belly that I always did when I showed him how I’d proven this-or-that theorem correct.  Then Charlotte’s giggle cut through my thoughts and I came back to earth.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Jake said, turning those brilliant blue eyes back to his wife, “he never shuts that mind of his off!”

“Yeah, well…” I muttered, turning away from them as they kissed.  I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life…

The crowd was directed up the ramp and onto the small cruise ship.  To distract myself from the ongoing public display of affection next to me, I stepped over to where the crew was unloading the passengers’ luggage onto the deck.  All the baggage had been transported for us from the airport to the harbor and directly onto the vessel.  I’d kept my shoulder bag with me, of course, but my extra clothing and sundries were in a separate case.

Seeing my worn brown suitcase in the pile, I reached for the handle—and found someone else’s hand there already.  Being in a foul mood already, this small incident managed to annoy the hell out of me.

“Could you please remove your hand from my bag, you¬—” My voice stopped as I looked up to find that the hand was attached to an arm with biceps about the size of my head.  My eyes continued upward to find a darkly handsome face framed by long, chocolate-black hair and sparkling onyx eyes staring down at me.  If the man’s striking looks hadn’t been enough to make me pause, his substantial size would have.

“I-uhh…” I sputtered.  My mouth had gone dry.

“I’m sorry,” the dark-haired man said, in a deep voice that seemed to resonate all around me, “but I believe this is my bag.”

Now, let me say that just because I am an academic, that does not mean I fall into the stereotype of being meek and frail.  I took pride in the fact that I kept my body in good shape.  After all, a fit body supports a fit mind.  But this man looked as if he’d sprung up from the earth—tan and sleek and strong—and could easily snap me in two with his pinky if he cared to.  The rational thing would have been to let him have the damn bag.  No sane person would argue with a man like this over some extra clothing.

However, I never did have much common sense.  Moreover, I was still feeling determined to be a ‘new man’—and I was pissed to boot.  I was in no mood to comply just because of a handsome face and intimidating body.  Besides, people like that always seemed to get their own way, and why the hell should they?  They waltzed through life while the rest of us worked our asses off for ungrateful, gorgeous jerks who never appreciated what was right in front of them!

It was possible my anger was a tad misplaced.

Even so, I had had enough.  I wasn’t going to back down when this lughead was the one making the mistake!  Just let him try something, there were witnesses all over the place to testify for assault if he lost his temper.

Bracing myself for confrontation, I grabbed the other side of the handle and snapped, “No, this bag is mine!  And I’d appreciate you taking your meaty paws off it!”

Behind me, I heard a cough and turned to see Jake and Charlotte staring at me, a look of worry in my friend’s eyes.

Oh sweet Lord, they were watching the whole thing and Jake even looked concerned for me, the sweet blockhead.

I brought my attention back to the infuriating muscle-head as the man asked, “Are your initials C.Y.?” He pointed to an insignia on the top of the case that I had failed to notice.

My hands fell.  “Oh…umm.  No,” I said slowly, “they’re not.” My cheeks burned as my anger faded away in the face of my now-overwhelming mortification.  “Sorry,” I muttered.

To my surprise, the stranger flashed me a smile.  “No harm done,” he said in that rumbling voice.  The warmth in his grin made me smile shyly back—and feel like a huge heel.

I spied my actual bag nearby, grabbed it and quickly scuffled away as fast as I could without looking like I was running— and felt the man’s dark eyes on me the entire time as I walked away.

It would take several days before we reached any of the surrounding islands.  I busied myself by toying with equations on my laptop and trying to avoid Jake and his blonde disaster.  When I did run into them, which was far too often, I had to endure Jake’s insufferable happiness and Charlotte’s incessant talk of pirates.

“You actually think there are pirates ‘marauding’ the waters around here in this day and age?” I finally asked her on the third day.  We were sitting together on one of the upper deck promenades and my patience was wearing thin.  My attempts to distract myself by working on my computer were not very effective.  I didn’t really get any work done and simply became more aggravated because of it.

“Oh, yes!” the woman replied, apparently serious.  “A friend of mine was on a cruise like this just last year, and her ship was boarded in broad daylight!  All the passengers had to surrender their valuables.  No one was hurt, but it certainly gave her a terrible scare- and she lost a lovely pair of emerald earrings.”

Somehow I withheld my urge to snort.  Even if it were true, the idea of a group of rich tourists having to hand over their superfluous, gaudy jewelry didn’t seem to fit the typical, romanticized notion of a ‘pirate raid’ such as Charlotte was envisioning.

Common thieves and hijackers, that’s all these ‘pirates’ were—if they even existed.  In any case, I had nothing to fear.  The only things of value I had with me were my notes (which had no monetary value), a couple of credit cards (which could be easily cancelled), and my travel computer (an older model hardly worth stealing).  I had traveled with all contingencies in mind.  I wondered if Charlotte had.  Somehow I doubted it.

“You know,” the woman continued in a low whisper, “I suspect some members of our crew might even be part of a local ring of pirates.” The idea made her positively giddy.

“Yes, well, we can only hope,” I said dryly.  I set aside my computer and stood, leaving Jake with his twittering new wife.

I walked out toward the front of the ship, stepping up to the railing to get a better look at the crystal waters swirling and foaming against the sides of the vessel.  The waters were clear and turquoise-blue, stretching out to the horizon.  The sun floated in a sky buffered occasionally by friendly white clouds.  It all made a lovely picture postcard of romance and beauty—and it felt just as flat and unreal to me.  All I could feel inside was a vague, empty ache.

Glancing back at Jake and Charlotte seated contentedly beneath the canopied area some distance behind me, I sighed inwardly.  How could I really be mad at them?  Even at insipid Charlotte for that matter?  They were in love.  I shouldn’t begrudge them their happiness just because I couldn’t find my own.

Moreover, I’d dug myself into this hole all on my own.  Jake had been painfully straight from the first time I’d laid eyes on him, but I’d admired him too much and let my feelings cloud the reality of the situation—and I’d enjoyed the work too much to ever think of leaving.

But maybe it was time to look for a new position.  Over time, I’d discovered that much of Jake’s brilliance came from the cunning way he delegated his workload.  Though the genius of his theories was undeniable, much of the legwork was done by assistants who worked through the anomalies for him.  I knew.  I’d spent many late nights doing just that.

Still, it had been worth it to see the man’s face light up when I showed him the proofs of his theory and that he’d been correct in his hypothesis.  I longed for those moments.  Yet as I looked back at him now—eyes shut and head resting on his wife’s shoulder—I knew those times would never mean the same to him as they did to me.  And all those moments I’d cherished suddenly seemed terribly hollow.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned down, resting my head on my hands as I folded them atop the railing.

Stupid gorgeous scenery.  It was making me too pensive and thoughtful, and now I was sad.  What good was all of this beauty if there was no one to share it with?

“Not enjoying the view?” came a voice at my side.

I jolted upright, finding the tall stranger from the first day suddenly standing beside me.  His dark eyes gleamed as he leaned on the railing beside me.  The man caught me completely off guard and immediately I felt my cheeks glow with chagrin in his presence.  It was the first time we’d spoken since the incident with my baggage—though I had seen him around, lurking on the periphery of my vision like a ghost.

“N-no!  I mean…of course I’m enjoying it!” I sputtered defensively.

The man arched an eyebrow, evidently not believing a word and amused by my discomfort.  “Then why do you look like a lonely puppy sulking over here by yourself?  You’re as blue as the sea.”

I quickly decided that whether or not it had been my mistake with the luggage, this man was still a disagreeable character—and I would be justified in venting some of my frustration on him.

“I was perfectly fine before you interrupted me!  I prefer to view the scenery in solitude.”

The other man tilted his head inquiringly.  “But didn’t you come here with the sickeningly-sweet duo over there?”

So I wasn’t the only one irritated with them.  Once again, I found my attitude softening toward the stranger.  “That was just an unfortunate coincidence,” I explained, adding, “He’s my boss.”

“Ah, I see.  Is that why you were so engrossed in typing on that little laptop of yours?  Trying to impress the boss?” he asked.  His tone was light, but I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or chiding me.  Moreover, he’d apparently been spying on me!

“May I ask why you insist on saying something infuriating just when I’m beginning to think you’re tolerable?” I spat.  I couldn’t help it; something about this man got under my skin and made it prickle.

The dark-haired man laughed, a pleasant, rumbling sound deep in his chest, but I wasn’t so easily distracted.  My scowl deepened.

“My apologies,” he replied to my disgruntled look.  “I suppose it’s none of my business, is it?” His rich brown-black eyes, so stunning in the man’s ruggedly handsome face, caught my gaze as he added, “I just find you—intriguing.”

Blinking, I stared at him dumbly.  Intriguing?  I’d never been intriguing in my life!  I decided he couldn’t possibly mean it; he must’ve been toying with me.

“Don’t joke around like that,” I told him, “saying things you don’t mean.”

Again, the gorgeous eyes pinned me, sparkling with the reflection of the sun on the sea.  “I would never be so insincere as to say something I didn’t mean.”

Unwarranted, my body berated me—I blushed.  There was no reason I should have, except for something warm in the man’s voice that hinted at hidden depths and desires.  Maybe my ambition to transform myself was working a little too well.  I never would’ve so easily succumbed to a sweet-tongued stranger before.  It must’ve been the sea air and my heartbreak making me susceptible.

Still dazed by his words and the dazzling sunlight, I failed to react when the tall man stepped closer.  A large, sun-darkened hand reached up to brush the hair from my face.  I jerked back, my senses returning to me as I realized that we were out in the open where anyone might see us.  Jake and Charlotte had been dozing, but they could wake up at any moment.  Despite the uncertainty that must have shown on my face, the man pressed his palm to my cheek, and a jolt ran through my whole body from the contact¬ as if I’d touched a live wire.

I didn’t make a habit of falling for handsome, questionable strangers, and the intensity of my reaction scared the hell out of me.  I turned away abruptly, wanting to get as far away as possible, but his hand came down swiftly to catch my wrist.  When my head whipped around to face him, I must’ve looked like a scared rabbit—wide-eyed and shaky.

“I didn’t get your name,” the man said in a tone that was almost a purr and which made me shiver.  I hadn’t planned to answer, but I felt hypnotized by that voice.

“Emi,” I replied unwillingly.  Seeing the question in his eyes, I added shyly, “I-it’s not my given name exactly, but that’s what everyone calls me.”

He smiled and I looked away.  I felt absurd standing there on the deck, my face flushed and his hand about my wrist.  I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm.

“Call me Hawkins then,” he said with a wink as he finally released me.

Somehow I checked my urge to run, but as I strode away from him, I felt more foolish with each step.  I’d reacted to the entire situation like a schoolboy.  Returning to my computer, I buried myself in calculations until dinner.

We were seated in groups as usual, and once again, Jake insisted I join him and Charlotte.  My usual appetite was impeded by the urge to look across the room every few minutes, scanning the area for Hawkins.  (What kind of name was that anyway?) He was nowhere to be found.  I told myself I merely wanted to know where he was so I could avoid the mysterious man, not because I wanted to see him.

The more I thought about the scene on the deck, the more surreal it seemed.  I’d said nothing about my personal inclinations, but the man—Hawkins—seemed to see right through me.  And he had come on to me!  Right there in public!

I began to think Hawkins might be real trouble, yet I was still disappointed when I walked the decks of the ship the next day and didn’t see him.  The sea air must have gone to my head; I wasn’t making sense anymore.

The afternoon grew older as the sun winked in and out behind the clouds.  On the horizon was a dark purple-grey smudge, promising rain the following day.  I felt a similar cloud hovering over my heart, and I began to wonder why I’d come on this getaway in the first place.  Even if Jake and Charlotte hadn’t popped up so unexpectedly, I doubted I would’ve had a better time.  The only thing I was good at was work.  I didn’t know how to relax.  I sighed, feeling sorry for myself and was about to mope back to my room when a sound caught my ear.

I followed it to one of the lesser-used sundecks near the stern of the ship, and found a very unlikely sight.  There was Hawkins, reclining in one of the lounge chairs and trying to work his long fingers over a tiny ukulele.  The instrument looked like a toy in his hands and the notes came out in discordant melodies, yet he seemed quite content with his fumbling.

Self-conscious, I remained where I stood—for the moment unnoticed—and took a moment to examine him.  He was less muscular than my surprise had made him at our initial meeting.  His arms were toned and strong, but not bulky.  However, combined with his height and wide shoulders, he cut a daunting figure nonetheless.  His hair was just past his shoulders, and the black had in places been bleached by the sun long enough to bring out a soft copper-brown sheen.  His skin was tanned so deeply that it made the whites of his eyes gleam like new snow, the dark irises blacks wells in contrast.

Guiltily, I admitted that I thought he was stunningly attractive, though completely different from men I was usually drawn to.  Typically, I was enamored of refinement.  Tall, long, willowy limbs, pale hair, and dressed in a finely-cut suit.  That was my usual type.  Jake certainly fit it well enough.  But there was nothing refined about the dark, sinuous man across the deck.  Though calm and quick to smile, he reeked of pure masculine power.  The more I thought about it, the more he embodied the traits of the sea itself: an easy, quiet strength and beauty that one instinctively knew could potentially cause devastating damage if it chose to.  Dangerous, seductive…

…and absolutely horrible on the ukulele!  My romantic musings fled in the face of my irritation as I watched the man pluck away at the small instrument, torturing the poor thing with glee.  Oh, for heaven’s sake!

“You’re doing it all wrong!” I said, stepping over to the other man.  “Don’t buy an instrument if you’re not even going to learn how to play it properly!”

Hawkins chuckled, not at all disturbed by my sudden outburst.  “It’s not mine, someone left it lying around.  I don’t really play.”

“Well, that’s obvious!” I said, as I sat down on a chair opposite him.  “Give it here!  You don’t even know any chords, do you?”

The man smiled indulgently and handed me the instrument.  I didn’t know why I was bothering to help him, except I had nothing better to do.  At least I could do something constructive and teach Hawkins not to abuse the little instrument along with his own ears.

“Here,” I said, cradling the ukulele.  “Look—all you need to know are a few basic chords and you can play.”

The other man shrugged.  “What are chords?  Never played an instrument in my life.”

Stupid meathead still sat there grinning as he admitted his ignorance.  Didn’t anything get to this guy?  I had the distinct feeling that there was more going on inside that head than the man let on behind that facile grin.

“Just look.  It’s simple,” I told him.  I demonstrated three simple chords—as many as any beginner really needed to know to make a decent tune—and held the ukulele out to him.  “Now you try.”

But the man shook his head.  “I’d rather hear you play.”

“I’m not in the mood,” I retorted.

There came that damn grin again.  “Please?”

With a sigh, I positioned the instrument in my hands.  There was no pleasing this man.  “Fine,” I grumbled.

I started off with a simple, breezy tune that matched the surroundings.  Soon, however, my imagination ran away with me and I fell into more complex melodies.  It had been forever since I’d played and I’d honestly forgotten how much I enjoyed it.  My eyes drifting shut, the music flowed easily, as it always had.

Since my childhood, music had a special place in my heart.  Its form was so pure and simple—and precise.  Mathematics was essential to its structure, and that made it all the more beautiful at its core.  Even jazz, which many of my colleagues disliked, I thought to be lovely in its own chaotic way.  After all, the further into math one ventured, the more unpredictable it became.

As I played, I was only half-aware of my audience.  Had I opened my eyes, I would have seen Hawkins sitting there, watching me.  Gradually, the tension I had been holding inside eased away.  The warm breeze spun around me as I began to sing softly.  I felt more content than I had in weeks.  The wind ruffled my raven hair and slipped across my chest where my top button had gone missing.  I felt slightly wild as I strummed the strings, thinking maybe I might be able to change after all.

I ended with a flourish and a laugh.  When I ventured to open my eyes I chuckled again, this time with a mix of embarrassment and slight giddiness as Hawkins’ eyes looked me over.

“You’re beautiful when you play,” he said.

Had he moved closer when I wasn’t paying attention?  I felt like I could feel the heat coming off his body.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I countered, shifting as my body flushed at his nearness.

He gazed at me with a keen, probing look that made me feel like he could see inside my head.  “Is it that hard to believe I find you beautiful?”

Fidgeting, I looked anywhere but his eyes.  “It’s not exactly something I hear everyday.”

“It should be,” Hawkins said softly, drawing closer to me.

My heart began trying to escape from my chest and I tried desperately to think of something to say to diffuse the moment.  I pushed the ukulele back at him, trying to put more distance between us.  “I’m sure I must’ve sounded rusty, sorry.”

“Not at all,” he replied, his fingers brushing mine as he took the instrument and set it aside.  Once again I felt that raw electric thrill run through me at the touch of our skin.  “How did you learn to play?”

I blushed deeper now.  It was becoming a habit, but this was an old story and always an embarrassing one.  “You don't want to hear that,” I said, dodging the question.

“Of course I do,” he said with a smile I felt I couldn’t refuse.

I let out a long breath and explained.  “When I was little and I first saw a ukulele, I thought it was a special instrument just for kids, ‘cause it was so small.  My parents had been pressing me to take piano lessons—which I eventually did—but I made them promise me that I could get ukulele lessons as well.” I paused, looking down at my hands.

“I really loved the ukulele, but it wasn’t the most masculine of instruments.  By the time I reached high school, I was getting a lot of teasing for it, and my father wasn’t very happy either.  He thought I’d grow bored of it and pushed me to quit when I didn’t.  I was always teased for liking math so much too, but to him that was at least dignified.  So… I gave it up,” I said with a shrug.

Looking up, I saw Hawkins still smiling at me, a soft look in his eyes.  When he didn’t say anything, I kept talking—the silence made me nervous.  “It was probably for the best,” I said with a half-hearted laugh.  “I mean, I don’t need anything else to make me look more effeminate.  I’m already a mathematician—glasses, thin, pale—”

“Gorgeous,” Hawkins interjected.

“Hardly,” I snapped back a bit too sharply.  I felt like I was being played with again.

“You don’t have a very high opinion of yourself, do you?  That’s a shame.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean!  I was just stating objective facts!” I said defensively.

“Then just admit that you’re good-looking,” he said, reaching out to touch my cheek.

“You’re j-just trying to butter me up so you can have a fling on vacation!” I sputtered.  I didn’t want to get swept away by his flattering words, but I couldn’t seem to get my body to move away.

“I’m not on vacation,” he murmured, leaning towards me.

“Wha—?” My voice was smothered as his hand slipped around to hold the back of my head while his lips covered mine.

Oh my, this couldn’t be happening—but it was and it felt so good!  A smooth tongue rolled over my mouth and I gasped at the spike of heat that plunged through my chest to settle between my thighs.  Hawkins took the opportunity to slip his tongue between my lips and the desire that rose inside me from his expert kisses startled me just enough to wake up my dazed mind.  What the hell was I doing!

Panicking against the lusty, powerful urges awakening within me, I struggled in the other man’s hold.  Finally, when I was lightheaded and my lips were swollen from his kisses, Hawkins pulled back.

“I need to go,” I said immediately, rising so quickly that I nearly lost my balance.

“No, you don’t” the dark-haired man said smoothly.

“This is crazy!” I shot back, thankful that there was no one else to witness this debacle.  “I don’t even know you!”

“That’s what makes it exciting,” he replied with a wicked grin.

“It’s not exciting!  It’s… reckless!”

“Being a little reckless is healthy every so often.”

I stood helplessly before him, as his eyes burned into mine like two live coals and I felt my body respond despite my best intentions.  Oh, this was not good…

“Look,” I said with as much authority as I could muster, “just stay away from me.  I won’t be someone’s one night stand!”

“We would most definitely have more than one night together.”

My body flushed with heat at the promise in his words, and my mind couldn't seem to form a rebuttal.

“You’re adorable when you’re speechless, you know,” he added, giving me a self-satisfied grin.

My anger flared.  Was he just baiting me?  Clenching my fists, I yelled, “I wouldn’t spend the night with you if you were the last man on earth!”

I could hear him chuckle as I stomped away.  We both knew it was a lie.