RED 2: A Trick of Mirrors [#W...

Galing kay NicoleCollet

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The long awaited sequel to the published novel "RED: A Love Story" ( 2.5 million reads on Wattpad) is finall... Higit pa

Prologue - Strength
1. The Ship
2. A Toast to the Present
3. Perfection
4. Before Midnight
6. A Lovely Day
7. Deck 11
8. An Unexpected Encounter
9. Hand-to-Hand Fighting
10. Prelude to the End
11. Cinsault Red
12. The Most Interesting Man in the World
13. The Invitation
14. Psychology of the Flesh
15. Love Potion
16. The Veiled Alcove
17. Attraction and Retraction
18. A Trick of Mirrors
19. Betrayal
20. Truth or Dare
21. The Presence in the Absence
22. Reverberation
23. After Midnight
24. The Policy of Truth
25. Desire
26. 59 Seconds
27. Free Will
28. The Ocean Ignored
29. Vampires
30. Requiem
31. Eclipse
32. Shatters
33. Aftermath
34. Little Death, Last Breath
35. Radiograph of a Mask
36. Once Upon a Time
37. Prey and Predator
38. Territories
39. Pledge
40. The Heart Would Stop
41. The Reflection on a Gaze
42. Imperfection
43. Soul Contracts
44. Full Circle

5. Welcome Aboard

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Galing kay NicoleCollet

Aquamarine, Day 1


A floating city of white profile with thirteen decks, a thousand feet from bow to stern and capacity for twenty-five hundred passengers: this was the Aquamarine, the ship hosting a music festival in its nightclub and fourteen bars for the next four days. After the check-in at the Port of Miami, a crew member conducted Marco and Marisa along with a group of tourists to the atrium on Deck 4. They paused to admire the circular architecture enveloped by mezzanines with glass parapets up to the transparent dome nine decks above. In the heights, an enormous crystal mobile scintillated reflecting an odd starry sky on the dome.

Glass walls and railings invited expanses of sky and sea into the ship. A wind rose in travertine marble dominated the center flooring and, further back, a water mirror towered up to Deck 7. The color palette encompassed the oceanic blue of fabrics and carpets, polished bronze and caramel shades on wooden panels and leather upholstery. Art works, exotic plants and stylized nautical motifs complemented the ambient.

"It's even prettier than in the photos," Marisa declared, and glanced at Marco waiting for his confirmation.

"It's okay."

"Okay? It's divine."

"Divine is God and that pancake I ate for breakfast."

Marisa looked at him suspiciously. Was that a sign of annoyance or just a banter? The two had that dynamics of teasing each other, and their innocent words sometimes carried barbs in disguise whose purpose was to penetrate deeper into each other, extract an unwary reaction that would reveal some unknown facet—unknown even to the one thus reacting. Ruling Marco's comment as mere banter, she dismissed it. Their vacation was only starting and she didn't intend to allow foul mood to ruin it. Marisa smiled.

"Let's check out the rest of the ship."

She took his hand and, amid the comings and goings of the passengers, the two explored the restaurant, the cybercafe and the piano bar in the atrium. Marco brightened up and they climbed the illuminated glass stairway to visit decks 5 and 6, which integrated shops, bars and restaurants, as well as a theater and an art gallery. At last, they rode one of the panoramic lifts to Deck 10 where they would be staying.

Located on the bow, their cabin offered mahogany furniture, a living area with a sofa, armchair and side table, and—best of all—a balcony. They rolled inside their luggage left by the door and went straight to the balcony to enjoy the Biscayne Bay view. In the foreground, McArthur Causeway and a retinue of palm trees crossed the waters linking Downtown Miami to South Beach. Further ahead, an artificial island emerged with mansions, gardens and docks.

Skipping the chairs on the balcony, Marisa and Marco reclined against the parapet and took a photo: two radiant faces surrounded by the sunny azure and silvery bay. They lingered there savoring the landscape with wandering eyes and their elbows propped on the guardrail.

Marco swept Marisa's hair aside to kiss the black rose tattooed on her nape. Positioning himself behind her, he slid both hands down her shoulders to her thighs covered by the thin fabric of the dress. He pressed his body to hers and reached for her breasts.

"Someone may see us, Marco." The protest sounded feeble, and Marisa rested her head on his chest. "When we're back to South Beach I have a surprise for you."

The caresses advanced under the dress neckline.

"What surprise?"

"If I tell you it won't be a surprise anymore."

She chuckled, then grew serious and stared at him: "I want to use this trip to recognize you."

"Recognize me?"

"Yeah. Get reacquainted with you. Rediscover you. Leave all friction behind and restart from zero."

"Deal. I want to recognize you too."

Marco hugged Marisa's waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. Their eyes filled with blue and gold and silver. Suddenly, she turned around within the circle of his arms and sought his mouth. She wanted to re-establish the kiss, which had been relegated to bed as if it no longer had a function beyond sex. Marisa tried to identify the taste from before—before familiarity had diluted it, before the fights erupted, before there were days when she regarded Marco as an opponent, almost an enemy. Nothing. She feared she wouldn't manage it.

Marisa recalled the exact moment when her eyes to Marco had changed. It was on that night of the first big fight, when he said he wasn't hungry after making her wait for hours at dinner time. Until then, despite frictions, Marco was for her like a perfectly lapidated diamond, and even occasional flaws only made him more interesting, intensifying his brilliance. That night, the crystalline surface of the diamond cracked, its brilliance dulled, an ordinary man with lines on the corner of his eyes and a wrinkled shirt. A selfish man.

She fought that image—relax, forget, live the now, detach from the past but plunge with her eyes closed into the sensations of the present like she had done in the past. And gradually the true taste of Marco's kiss overlapped that night and the veil of familiarity, not intoxicating as in the beginning nor numb as lately. Marisa savored on the tip of her tongue the soft swirl permeated with longing and a sweetness she had judged lost: how it felt to be here and now with Marco, away from everyday worries, from hurt. She strummed his body—fine wisps of hair in her hands, skin with an amber residue of cologne, the smoothness of the neck, the solidity of the shoulders and back. Her senses awakened and rejoiced in each detail, from the satiny contact of the lips to the way those hands made her quiver.

Marisa began to recognize him and slipped into that recognition with a stir of vertigo. Then came seven short rings and one long from the ship's horn. Through the deck speakers, the captain's voice summoned all passengers for the muster drill in the theater. The cruise began.


______________________________________

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Now I wonder what's in store for Marco and Marisa... Can you guess?

Thanks a bunch for those who voted for the chapters of this story and commented so far. What would I do without your incentive? You are the best!  :)  xoxo


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