Page 6 of Helsing: Demon Slayer
Her best friend pulled a stretch-knit sleeveless dress out and took it off the hanger. “I swear the best lovers are the guys who look like they work with their hands for a living. You know, plumbers. Carpenters. Electricians. Not guys who use product in their hair.” She laughed as she tugged the dress over her head.
Dianne, who’d already pulled on a pair of white stretch jeans and a sleeveless, V-neck blouse with a smattering of sequins, decided that she had to get out of the cabin. She didn’t even think that she could go to dinner with her friends.
“I wouldn’t know,” she said, grabbing her purse and her key card. “I’m not going to dinner with everyone. I need to get a drink instead.”
Germaine looked at her. “That bad?” she asked, apparently unaware that she’d caused Dianne’s ill humor.
Dianne opened the cabin door before saying over her shoulder, “Tell the others I’ll see them at the theater at 8.” She didn’t wait for Germaine’s nod.
She took the elevator to the main deck, not sure where she wanted to be. Home. Alone. Thank God tomorrow was their last port. They’d be back in Ravenna on Monday, and then she’d start the long flight home.
She started walking toward the main lobby bar, wending her way through the retail space where the ship’s photographers displayed the numerous photos they cajoled passengers to let them take. That’s when she saw him.
The Beast stood inside the fine-art gallery, absorbed in studying an oil painting of the Mediterranean coast, its Cypress trees reminiscent of Provence and Tuscany.
Her breath caught. The memory of his palm pressed against the back of her head as he took charge of their kiss swept away all thought.
Before she could reconsider or even question why she wanted to talk to the silent, intimidating man, Dianne headed toward him, stopping at his side. Sweet Lord, but he really was as massive and intense as she remembered. She hadn’t just built The Beast up in her memory.
He looked at her. In his eyes, she saw recognition.
He remembered her. Thank God. That kiss had rocked her world—surely she’d made some kind of impression.
But had it hit him the same way?
Dianne bit her lip, uncertain how to proceed.
“Hiding from your friends again?” he asked, the sympathy in his voice nearly undoing her.
“Yes,” she said before blurting a little breathlessly, “will you go to dinner with me?”
He blinked several times, obviously surprised at the invitation.
“Or not,” she said, starting to turn away. To run away, if she were honest.
The Beast caught her arm. His large fingers and palm were warm and the skin a little rough. He must work with his hands then. “Aren’t you going to wait for my answer?” Amusement colored his deep, slightly raspy voice.
Dianne felt herself blushing like a teenager. She opened her mouth and nothing came out. Then she swallowed, cleared her throat, and swallowed again. The Beast waited patiently, watching her. She couldn’t tell if he judged her and found her wanting.
“Yes, of course,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.
He tilted his head. He raised his other hand and brushed a thumb over her cheek. “You don’t need any makeup,” he said. “Blushing suits you.” He dropped his hand. “Do you like steak? I have a reservation at the Brazilian restaurant for seven.”
“I love Brazilian food,” she said. “It’s pretty common where I’m from.”
He smiled, the first genuine smile that Dianne had seen on the man’s face. She couldn’t believe what it did to her insides. “Excellent.” He raised his wrist to consult a heavy-duty analog watch with bronze fittings and a graphite-colored cloth band. “That leaves us with an hour to kill. How about a drink in the Mainsail Lounge?”
“That sounds good,” said Dianne, aware that accepting meant that she’d miss attending the Cabaret show with her friends. “I’m Dianne, by the way.”
“Ryan,” he said, holding out his hand.
She set her own hand in his, marveling at how his fingers engulfed hers. Despite their size, they were elegant and long. Something about the way he held her hand made her feel protected. She found herself disappointed when he dropped it and gestured for her to lead the way.
They took the elevator to the Mainsail, which was on the highest deck near the prow with amazing views. It was normally quiet at this time of day with only a handful of passengers having cocktails before dinner, but it would pick up later with an event. A couples gameshow, Dianne thought.
Ryan guided her to an empty sofa near one wall of windows. He didn’t sit next to her, however, choosing to take a seat in an upholstered chair on her left. There was something about the way his gaze took in the rest of the lounge that made her look around, too. But she saw no reason for his obvious vigilance.
While they waited for their cocktails, Dianne finally asked what she’d wanted to know ever since their kiss. “Are you traveling alone? You’re not hiding from friends somewhere are you? You keep looking around like you expect your girlfriend to catch you cheating.” She laughed a little nervously.
