Page 3 of My Boyfriend Bites

“This might sound rude, but I’d prefer to be with someone who won’t call my generation’s music noise and who doesn’t need to pop a pill for sexy times.”

His laughter brought more shivers to her body. He flashed white teeth, the front canines more pronounced than the rest as he said, “You are quite frank.”

“A fault of mine,” she chirped. “Probably why I’m still single.”

“More likely the men you’ve met have been idiots.”

“Are you here with your partner?” she asked.

“Nope. Single like you, but perhaps this cruise will change that.”

“You’re too pretty to not have a girlfriend,” she blurted out. Blame her racing pulse for being flustered.

“I could say the same of you. You are also very attractive.”

“I am”—she wasn’t about to be coy—“but I don’t get out often. When you live and work on a farm, it’s hard to meet people.”

“Whereas I am usually surrounded by those impressed by my wealth. It makes for less than authentic relationships.”

“You’re rich?” Again, her mouth ran away before her brain could stop it.

“Very,” his dry reply.

“And you’re onthiscruise?” She glanced at the banner of hearts hung over the check-in desk. Tacky to the extreme.

“As are you.”

“Only because I can’t afford anything better. Shouldn’t you be on, like, one of those luxury yachts?”

“Surrounded by snobby elites?”

“As opposed to swinging grandmas and grandpas?” she countered.

Once more, his deep laugh emerged. “Please say you will join me this evening for a drink.”

“I don’t drink.”

“It doesn’t have to be alcohol.”

“I’d planned to stay in my room tonight and relax. It’s been a long day. Perhaps we can meet for breakfast when I’m refreshed.”

“Doubtful, as I’m more of a night person. Shall we say, dinner tomorrow?”

Dinner with a stranger? Her first impulse? Say no. But that would defeat the purpose of the cruise. “Sure. Why not.”

“The line’s moving,” he stated. To her surprise, he lifted her suitcase, and in doing so, she noticed his lack of one.

“Where’s your stuff?” she asked as he carried it by the handle rather than rolling it.

“I left it with the porter.”

“I’d hate that.”

“Why?”

“I just like knowing where my stuff has been.” She’d rather not have to wonder who might have opened her bag and touched her undergarments.

“What stateroom did they assign you?” he asked.

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