CRUISE TO ROMANCE Read Free Page A

arranged for our best stylist to give you a sophisticated cut.  One
that will flatter your classic bone structure and bring out your eyes.  Come
back tomorrow morning around ten o’clock and we’ll go shopping for some new
clothes and plan your day.”
    “Thank you.” 
Jennifer smiled as widely as the drying mud on her face would allow.
    Helga turned and
looked at Jennifer, leaving her with a softly spoken warning.  “Remember,
Jenny, you must never appear needy.  Always, always, speak and act with
confidence.”
    After Helga left the
room, Jennifer stretched and closed her eyes, thinking on the many scents and
sensations she had just enjoyed.  Luckily, she had found Helga easy to talk
to.  Helga had generously given Jennifer advice during her massage and she
planned to take it.  When had she gone from a self-confident young woman to a
mouse?  Why hadn’t she seen the warning signs?  She suspected that as the
pounds increased, her self-confidence decreased.  Maybe it was her grandmother
warning her that she ate too much for a lady and that she would end up a
spinster if she didn’t stay thin.  She dearly loved her family, but sometimes
their well-meaning advice only added to the stress of loving food and loving to
cook.  After college she’d decided to put some distance between them. 
Welcoming a chance to leave her hometown of Homestead, Pennsylvania, she’d
headed to Ft. Lauderdale to write a cooking column for the local newspaper. 
She had come a long way quickly in business, but she was conditioned to believe
that no man would find her attractive with her extra pounds.  Now Helga was
telling her not to worry and not focus on her weight.  So what if she wasn’t a
rail-thin model, or the athletic type?  There was still someone out there for
her.
    When the timer rang
its cheery bell, Jennifer threw the sheets back and slipped off the massage
table.  She grabbed a thick terry robe from a stack in the corner of the room,
slipped it on, and headed for the door.  Without thinking, she hurried to the
next massage room and slipped inside to take her shower.  She couldn’t resist
pausing in front of an old-fashioned, full-length mirror in a cane frame.  With
a quick motion, she tossed her extra towel to the side.  If only Sheila could
see me now, she giggled, looking at her greenish-brown reflection.  The
Pillsbury Dough girl wrapped in a beach robe with pistachio and chocolate
sprinkles!  Truth be known, with the turban protecting her hair and the mud
plastered over her face and body, she doubted that even her mother would
recognize her.
    “Hello,
beautiful.  Are you the new massage therapist?” an amused masculine voice
asked.
    Jennifer
gasped and spun around, clutching her robe tightly.  Oh, no!  Please, no!  It
was him.  Mr. Gorgeous in the flesh, wearing just a short robe tied together at
the waist.  Frozen to her spot, Jennifer allowed her gaze to drift down the
exposed skin of his muscular chest to his toned thighs and calves.  Mmm . . .
what nice hips.  Apparently, the him beneath the robe was pretty nice too.  Oh,
God!  What was she doing?  She was staring, and not at his face.  Jennifer felt
a flush cover her.  Then it hit her.  He couldn’t see her embarrassment under
all the mud.  Slowly, she dragged her gaze up to his face—a very amused face.
    “You
have the wrong room, Mr. . . . ?”  She struggled to speak.  Stay calm, her
panicked mind reminded her.  Sure thing, she told herself as she tilted her
chin up in what she hoped was a gesture of indifference.
    “Treymont. 
Ryan Treymont.  And you?”  He shook his head and grinned when she didn’t
respond.  “Nope.  This is definitely the right room.  It’s the Toucan Room and
I have it reserved for the next two hours.”  He smiled broadly and his eyes
swept over her from her head to her toes and slowly back up.  Glancing to the
mirror behind her, he laughed.  “But I’d be happy to