After Dark - Champagne and Moonlight

Finn raked a hand through his dark hair as he grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby table. He loosened his black tie with a finger and pushed through several people to the far end of the deck.

Being on a couples’ retreat hosted on a luxury yacht had not been his idea of a romantic getaway.

His eyes caught a glint to his right, and he stopped.

A woman with long, dark hair cascading over her back leaned against the rail, sipping champagne. She wore a midnight-blue dress, held up by delicate straps that kissed her shoulders. The soft cowl neckline draped effortlessly over her figure, falling in a long, elegant line to her ankles. A side slit opened briefly as she shifted, revealing a glimpse of thigh.

He drew in a sharp breath, muttering as he turned in the opposite direction.

Rachel raised an eyebrow as her eyes lazily drifted over the crowd on the upper deck, a hand smoothing the dress that cost more than a month’s rent for her shabby apartment.

She sighed.

She had thought it would be worth it.

She snorted, then abruptly turned around, her cheeks flushing when a nearby couple looked at her.

Fuck, she could strangle Mark for ditching her.

She drained her glass, then made her escape.

She kept her head down as she made her way to the side to find the entrance back to the main deck. At least Mark had been considerate enough to let her keep their suite, since he—she bit her lip—would occupy someone else’s tonight.

The collision came with a thud, knocking her back and briefly releasing gravity’s grip on her shoes.

Rachel’s strangled gasp was swallowed as a hand grabbed her arm and another slipped behind her back. She was pulled against a hard body, her chin coming to rest on a broad shoulder.

Rachel blinked.

“Are you okay?”

The body against hers vibrated with a husky growl, and shivers spiraled down her spine.

Rachel pushed herself away and looked up, only to stumble back as a pair of dark brown eyes studied her.

“I’m fine,” she managed.

Finn tilted his head.

Yes, she was.

He shook his head and tucked his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Be more careful,” he said, clearing his throat. “Falling overboard would not be recommended.”

He turned on his heel and continued toward the staircase he had been heading for.

“Thank you!” Rachel called out, but he had already disappeared.

She sighed and headed for the same staircase after a few minutes. It would be better not to bump into him again. A smile tugged at her lips. He was nothing like Mark.

*

Finn swore under his breath, tugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the bed. His inspection upon entering had already confirmed that Sheila had removed her things.

Apart from a bag he did not recognize at the foot of the bed.

He had to hand it to her. She was a master.

The moment she had met a better prospect for a husband, it had taken one sentence to knock the wind out of him.

“Sorry, darling. It’s not you. It’s me.”

And just like that, two years were gone.

Finn opened the small bar fridge. Well, good riddance. He grabbed a small bottle of brandy, uncapped it, and swallowed the contents.

Rachel frowned as she walked down the corridor. She could have sworn the room was on the left, not the right. She looked at the number on the key card.

She shrugged. She must have gotten it wrong.

She stopped in front of the door and swiped the key.

She stumbled into the room, kicking off her shoes as she went, then froze.

*

“Why...why are you in my room?” She breathed, blinking, when the shock wore off, finding the man who had caught her just a few minutes ago in her room.

Finn raised his brows before reaching for another bottle. “This is my room.”

Rachel looked down at the key card still in her hand, frowning. “I don’t think so—this is mine and Mark’s—” She broke off when she saw her bag.

“See! This is my bag!” she said excitedly, hurrying over and picking it up.

“Oh, good. Then you can take it and go.”

Rachel blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Finn shrugged and nodded toward the closet, still open. Rachel turned.

Inside the closet, several suits hung neatly, and below, shoes were stacked—a clear sign that someone had already been in the room for a while.

“That son of—” Rachel bit her tongue. Mark had given him his new woman’s key. She glanced at Finn. Which meant...

“Listen—” she started, only to swallow her words when Finn began to undress. “What—what are you doing?”

“I’m going to take a shower before dinner. I need to get rid of the sickening stench of perfume.”

Perfume? Rachel blinked. She wasn’t wearing any perfume.

“Be gone by the time I get out, please.” Finn disappeared into the en suite bathroom.

*

Finn stood underneath the shower spray longer than he had intended. It had taken him exactly a second to connect the woman in his room to Sheila’s new flame.

Fuck.

She had probably nowhere to go. They were out in the middle of the ocean.

His shoulders sagged when he stepped out of the bathroom.

She was gone

Fuck. Now he felt guilty.

*

Rachel had fled to the sun deck. Luckily, everyone was still on the upper deck.

She dropped her bag at her feet and sat in one of the lounge chairs. They would still be at sea overnight and would return to port only in the morning. She was stuck.

She kicked her bag under the chair. She had been so excited when she packed it. Along with the dress, she had purchased lingerie—the kind Mark had often mentioned he liked.

The kind she had always thought would not suit her. She still didn’t.

She had hoped that tonight would have been...

She stood, smoothing her dress.

“No, Rachel. You’re not going to cry over that bastard.”

“No, he’s not worth it.”

Rachel spun around. “You?”

Finn chuckled. “Me.”

*

Rachel frowned at Finn. He was dressed as before, in a dark suit and tie, a white shirt, except for his damp hair.

“Look,” Finn crossed the deck to stand in front of her. “It seems we’ve found ourselves in the same predicament.”

“Predicament?”

“Being dumped. I’m guessing it’s our partners who have hooked up?”

Rachel nodded. “Yes. That was my guess, too. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For what happened. I mean, you being dumped and me being... dumped in your room. But don’t worry, I’ll just—” Rachel looked down at the lounge chair. “Sleep here.”

“You’ll freeze to death. We can share the room. We’re both adults.” Finn nudged the chair with his foot, then bent to pick up her bag.

“Oh, please. I—”

“Finn Lovehart,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Lovehart?”

Finn chuckled. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

Rachel slipped her hand into his. “Not at all. Rachel Stark.”

Finn shook her hand with a smile. “Well, Rachel Stark. Shall we drop this off, then go have dinner?”

“Yes, I would like that, Finn Lovehart.”

*