There would be no coy handing over her phone number and wondering, hoping he would call. No worries that he would expect more than she was able to give. One night together and they’d be done. Almost as if it had never happened.
“My place or yours?” Darcy asked.
“Yours, if you’ve got a cabin to yourself. I’m sharing with Tracey.”
“This way.” He looped his arm around her waist and with his other hand, reached behind for the door to the passageway leading to cabins. “Is Tracey going to worry when you don’t come back to the ballroom?”
“Probably not. She’ll assume I met someone. The singles cruise was her idea,” Emma added in a burst of nervous chatter. Was she really going to sleep with Darcy? “She wanted to go to Vanuatu, but when I saw the Latin dance theme it was case closed as far as I was concerned.”
Darcy’s hand slid over her butt as she spoke, letting her know he wasn’t really interested in Tracey. His subtle squeeze reminded her of their courting days when he’d been so eager to get her to bed he couldn’t keep his hands off of her.
They weren’t courting now, she reminded herself. There would be no happily ever after. Tonight was simply about two people who knew each other better than anyone else, and who cared enough that they could give comfort and release, but who had too many issues to be together. She blinked against an unexpected pricking of her eyes. This wasn’t sad. It wasn’t.
He stopped in front of a door and slid his key card in the lock, then let her walk in first. He had a single cabin, cozy, but big enough for two people who wanted to get close. And impersonal enough that she wouldn’t associate the bed or the room with anything in their past.
She dropped her purse on the table and slid her arms around his neck for a kiss that instantly reignited her desire. He clasped both hands on her hips, pulling her tight to his, leaving her in no doubt he was ready, willing and able to satisfy her needs and wants.
Without thinking, she turned to let him unzip her dress. The pang hit her unexpectedly. This used to be a ritual, one of many small rites built up over their brief years of marriage.
His hands paused.
Was he remembering, too? “Something wrong?”
He pressed a kiss on the nape of her neck as he slid the zipper the rest of the way down. “Not a thing.”
The straps of her gown slipped over her shoulders and the dress puddled around her hips. With a hand on his shoulder for balance she stepped out of it and stood before him, slightly self-conscious in her high heels and brand-new violet lace bra and thong she’d ordered online from Victoria’s Secret. If there was an upside to being single with no kids, it was that now she had time for the gym. Months of working out showed in her toned arms and legs, and thinner waist.
Darcy’s eyes widened and he whistled under his breath. “You look amazing.” He stroked down her arms and took her hands in his, then raised their clasped hands to twirl her around, the better to admire her new figure.
“Thanks. I’ve been working at it.”
“I’m honored to reap the benefits—even if I’m not your Mr. Right.” He made a wry grimace, as if to acknowledge that at one time, he had been, and yet had turned out to be so wrong.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk too much,” she said.
“Good idea.” Humming a rumba he locked eyes with her as he unbuttoned his shirt. His hips swiveled to the catchy Latin beat.
His mellow baritone and the smooth circular motion of his hips had her twitching in response. Swaying closer, she helped him with his pants, tugging them down his legs, leaving him in black knit boxers that clung to his muscled butt and hugged the thick bulge of his erection.
She hummed along as they reprised the tango in the confines of the cabin. With even less fabric between them the dance was almost unbearably sexy. Darcy’s hands whispered over her bare waist, spun her then brought her bottom in snug to his groin. Seeing them move together in the mirror was an added turn-on. Her nipples peaked against the lace, tender and aching to be sucked and touched. Between her legs she was wet and hot and heavy. Their steps slowed, became languorous and even more sensual. He