I smile up at him in wonder. “A date with who?”
He shrugs and smiles sexily down at me. “Some lucky bastard.”
My heart swells. I follow him into the store and we start to look through the hanging dresses.
“How long since you have been on a date?” I ask as he slowly flicks through the dresses on the rack.
He narrows his eyes as he thinks. “I don’t know. A long time. I would have still been in the Marines. Maybe five or six years.”
My mouth drops open. “You were a Marine?”
He looks down at me and smiles sexily. “Yes. I was a Marine.”
I put my hands on my hips and stare in wonder up at him.
“What?” He smirks.
“That’s just so…” I shake my head as I try to articulate my words. “Frigging hot.”
His face falls. “And being a criminal on a shipping container isn’t hot to you?”
“Well.” Oh crap, that came out wrong. “I just meant…”
He cuts me off. “I know what you meant.” He keeps looking through the dresses.
He moves to the other rack along the window and concentrates on his task. I, however, have a million questions and follow him around like the annoying person I am.
“What did you do in the Marines?”
“I was a nautical engineer and a chopper pilot.”
I get a vision of him in his grey uniform flying a helicopter, and a thrill of excitement runs through my deviant bloodstream. He would have been a fucking hot chopper pilot.
“A pilot,” I gasp.
“Of choppers.” He frowns.
“Choppers, planes, same thing.”
“No, not really. Different aircraft.” He smirks over at me and I beam a broad smile back at him.
He continues to flick through the rack, distracted at his task at hand as he pulls out a little black dress. “I like this one.”
I take it from him without even looking at it. I am too busy with my Top Gun fantasy.
“How long were you in the Marines?” I ask.
“Six years.”
I bite my bottom lip as I think. He hands me another two dresses.
“Why did you leave?”
“I missed home.”
I frown. “But you are not home now, anyway.”
He raises his eyebrows at me and my ten thousand questions.
Damn it, this is the most interesting story I have heard, and just when he is about to leave, he tells me about it. I want to hear it all.
“Do they know this on the boat?”
“Ship,” he corrects.
“Ah, yes, ship.” I roll my eyes.
“No. Why would I tell them anything personal about me? They are not my friends.”
I smile as a warm, fuzzy feeling runs through me. “Am I your friend?”
He smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder. “I would like to think so.” He pulls me toward him and gently kisses my temple. What a sweet gesture. He instantly goes back to looking at his dresses and I stand and watch him with my mind going crazy.
I don’t want him to go.
I want him to stay with me and be my friend. My gorgeous, beautiful, fuckable friend.
He is the first person who I could tell about my past and now he is telling me his.
We buy two of the dresses and a pair of heels before we head back to the hotel. Silence has fallen between us as we walk hand in hand, and I wish I could act happy and joyful, but the fact is I really don’t want to say goodbye to him.
This is it. I will never see him again. We get to the room and I open the door. We walk in and throw all of the bags on the floor. I’m not sure what to say, so I start with the lame stuff. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
He smiles, knowing my tactic. “No, I’ve got to get going.”
I nod. I knew he was going to say that.
He walks over to the desk and takes the pen and paper and scribbles down a number and hands it to me. “This is my mother’s phone number. If you need to contact me.” He hesitates. “Call her. I check in with her every few weeks.”
I nod and take the paper from him and fold it in half.
He watches me intently. “You going to be alright?”
I nod as my eyes stay fixed firmly on the floor. I’m not good at goodbyes. I’ve said goodbye to everyone I cared for at one stage or another.
He puts his fingers underneath my chin, brings my eyes up to meet his, and we stare at each other for a moment. It’s like he feels the same… but then he doesn’t say anything.
“You should go,” I whisper.
He nods.
“Thank you for everything.” I smile. I can feel the tears welling and I just need him to go before he sees them. I am suddenly scared to start a new life on my own.
Stop it.
He holds me in a tight embrace and I feel his large, warm arms around me one last time. We cling to each other for an extended time, and without another word he turns and walks out of the door.
It clicks softly as it closes behind him.
I blow out a large breath as the tears slowly well in my eyes. I head over to the window so I can watch him walk away one last time. I stare down at the street below at all the people merrily going by with their lives.
I feel a sense of closure… of who I used to be.
I feel a beginning of who I want to be and I smile.
No remorse, no regrets, just a sense of gratitude that I met him for even a little while.
He gave me freedom.
I see him exit the front doors. I put my hands on the glass and lean into the window to watch him. He heads over to the cab rank and talks to the driver, and then gets into the backseat. In slow motion, the cab pulls out and drives away.
He gave me my freedom.
* * *
Three hours and a good cry later, I am lying in a semi-conscious state in the deep, hot bath.
It’s okay to cry sometimes, Mom used to say. It purges the bad to make way for the good. I think I was crying for the loss of my life rather than the loss of Stace.
Although that feels pretty shitty, too. He would be back on his boat now. Ship, I correct myself with a smile. My diamonds are all packed safely away and I have an appointment tomorrow with a master jeweler to sell one of them. I have to sell them one by one to not raise suspicion. I’ve also made an appointment to get a safety deposit box. I can’t keep the remaining diamonds here. I need to have them somewhere secure.
I smile in my heated, relaxed state. Everything is going to plan and how it should be… finally.
Once I get the diamonds all sold off and money into an offshore account, I’m off to Europe to start my new life.
Far, far away from my father, where he will never find me again.
I climb out of the bath and put on my robe and wrap a towel around my head. I pick up the room service menu and scroll through. I glance outside as the sun is beginning to set. I really should go out tonight to celebrate my new life, but I honestly can’t be bothered. I will stay in and then tomorrow make the effort spend the day sightseeing.
Knock, knock, knock.
Shit, who’s that?
My heart rate picks up and I sneak over and peer through the peephole.
It’s Stace. What?
I open the door in a rush.
“Hello.” He smiles nervously.
I frown at his demeanour.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking.” He seems so nervous that it brings a broad smile to my face. “I saw you downstairs having dinner with your parents.”
My heart freefalls from my chest.
He remembered.
“I spoke to your father.”
I smile.
“The doctor.”
I put my hand over my mouth in shock. He remembered everything.
“It took a lot of convincing, but he said you could go on a date with me tonight.”
I stare at him through blurry eyes.
He swallows nervously.
“What’s your name?” I whisper.
“Stace.” He smiles softly. “What’s your name?” he asks.
“Roshina.”
A frown crosses his face at my real name.
“What do you do, Stace?” I ask.
“I’m a Marine.”
A broad smile crosses my face.
“What do you do?” he asks.
“I’m an intensive care nurse.”
He holds his hand out and we shake hands as the electricity jolts through me from his touch.
“Can I pick you up at seven?” he asks hopefully.