Harold Lowe has managed to claw his way up the career ladder of the British merchant marines, rising from a ship's boy to a master mariner with one of the world's elite passenger lines. Along the way, he's learned to master not only his craft, but...
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Corrine woke some time later to find Harry watching her.
"How do you feel, my darling?" he murmured in her ear.
She stretched luxuriously, then winced slightly as she felt an aching in places she had never ached before. "A little sore," she admitted, blushing.
"We can try and fix that," he said with a lopsided grin. "But how about here?" He touched her heart.
She knew what he meant. "I feel... refreshed. At peace." She smiled up at him. "Hopelessly in love."
He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, then pulled back and gazed down at her. "And I am madly in love with you." He grinned. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"
Unable to speak, she just nodded. The brush of his lips against her skin had caused the blood to rush to all her sensitive areas again, and her body thrummed with the remembered echoes of their earlier intimacy.
He noted the change in her expression and quirked an eyebrow, reading her mind. "Oh no you don't, you greedy girl. You need to satisfy... other needs first." He sat up, suddenly businesslike, and wagged a finger at her.
"Like what?" she asked, trying to distract herself from her naughty thoughts.
"Well, I thought a bath might help soothe your... sore bits." A look of shame flitted across his features, and he said apologetically, "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Corrine..."
"Don't you dare, Harry Lowe," she admonished him. "I asked for it - and I got exactly what I wanted, didn't I?" She winked and grinned at him, and his shoulders relaxed a bit. "Fine, then, a bath it is." But only if you join me, she thought wickedly. "Anything else?"
He gestured to her body, lying exposed on the bed. "And you're gorgeous, but you're wasting away. You need to eat. So I've taken the liberty of ordering food up to the room."
She giggled. "From the restaurant? Whatever will Mr. Chaffee say when he finds out he's feeding one of the employees from his own restaurant - in a guest's room?"
"He won't know," he assured her. "I'm claiming it's for me - and the bill is courtesy of the American taxpayers." He grinned smugly. "So eat up, my darling. If those bastards are going to hold me against my will, it's going to cost them dearly."
She laughed again and was about to get up when his cheeky comment reminded her of something. "Speaking of," she said, raising up on her elbow, "You curse pretty emphatically when you're making love, you know."
"I- I do? Really?" he said, flustered. "I didn't know that," he mused, as if to himself. "I'm sorry-" he began, looking contrite, but Corrine interrupted.
"Don't be," she said. "I find it charming... and, well, er, very sensual." Her voice had dropped, low and husky, on the last few words.
"You mean... you were aroused by... my filthy language?" he asked incredulously, an amused glint coming into his eye.
