Page 36 of Lust and Little White Lies

The devil in him tamed for the night.

But tomorrow is another story.

Chapter Eleven

Brittany

I'm dizzy as I spin around and lean my head back to stare upward at the narrow stained-glass windows rising to meet the arched and beautifully painted ceiling. Lowering my head, I'm in awe as my gaze slides across the gothic Saint Martin's cathedral, built on the site of a former church in the early fourteenth century.

I stroll through the cathedral, the next-to-last stop on our all-day tour of Bratislava, Slovakia. From here, we'll tour the castle before heading back to our bus and return drive to the ship, which remains docked in Vienna.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Rose asks as she sidles up next to me.

"It certainly is, and I'm intrigued by its history. Where are the others?"

"Iris and Dahlia are still bickering by the door. Oh, I take that back. They just walked outside. And Marigold and Larry are around here somewhere." Rose loudly sucks in her breath. "Oh, my goodness. Look at that."

I turn to look where she's pointing and smile in delight. Larry and Marigold are strolling past a section of pews—holding hands. "I thought Marigold's giggling on the bus was cute, but this is even better."

"All I have to say is Marigold better thank me for playing matchmaker."

"I'm sure she will when you tell her what you did. I haven't said anything about you tricking her into switching seats with me on the bus the other day."

"Oh, that's right. I never told Marigold. I should wait to say something until I know for sure they're getting along. If I tell her now and something happens, she'll call me out for putting her in the situation in the first place."

"Uh-oh. Jerry has latched onto our guide. I bet he's bombarding her with more questions." I motion toward the door, recalling the frustrated look on Elita's face when she was trying to tell us some of the city's history, and Jerry wouldn't shut up. Elita would give us information, and Jerry would immediately ask a question that she'd already answered. At one point, I thought there would be a revolt on the bus, Jerry having irritated three-quarters of us.

"Look at the big, burly gentleman in the red shirt and brown jacket. He has his arm on his wife's shoulder." Rose nods toward the man, which makes her pastel pink fedora hat with its glob of bright pink feathers bob precariously on her head.

"I see the guy. What about him?"

"Look at his face?" Rose says, laughing.

"You mean the angry red glare toward Jerry?"

"Yes, that's it. I thought the man was going to strangle Jerry when we were at Michael's Gate. Maybe he'll knock him off before we return to the ship."

"Wow, you're vicious. And I'd rather not see that. I've had my fair share of Jerry-related drama already."

"Just think of how much satisfaction we'd all have."

"Oh, you're terrible." I had to laugh. Rose was almost as bad as Iris with her comments.

"Yes, dear, I am," she laughs.

Rose and I follow the rest of our tour group from the church and onto our bus. We pull out onto the busy thoroughfare, and I settle into my seat only to see Jerry wiggle and shift in his. He's in the front row by our guide, Rose and I, two rows behind on the opposite side. Based on the look on his face, I steel myself for another rash of complaints and negative comments. We had thirty minutes' worth during our hour-long drive from the ship to Bratislava.

"He's driving too fast. He needs to slow down," Jerry complains.

"Sir, like I told you on the drive here, Boris is a professional driver, and he follows all the rules. He is driving the allowed kilometers per hour," Elita says.

"No, no. He's driving too fast, I'm telling you. What if we have an accident? I might get hurt or worse. What if I have to go to a hospital? That could be very expensive."

"Sir, you need to stop."

"Look! He just turned without stopping at the sign. I'm telling you, our driver is going to make us have an accident."

Elita gives a loud sigh, her shoulders noticeably dropping. "Sir, I'll explain this to you one last time. Boris drives buses for a living. It's his job. He did not stop because we had a yield sign, and no traffic was coming. It was safe and proper. If you complain again, I'll move you to a seat in the back of the bus."

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