Graham smiled. "Excited. We haven't had a vacation together in a very long time."

"It seems to me that we've been in every major European city in the last few-"

"It's not a vacation for you when I'm touring, I know that. I'm distracted and self-absorbed, and you worry that I don't eat enough." Graham slid her hands inside Anna's silk robe and caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "And I'm not very attentive."

Anna caught her breath, ambushed by the sudden swelling of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Every part of her responded to Graham's touch, as if her body were as precisely strung as the strings on Graham's concert grand. "Graham, darling, you are very attentive when you're touring because all the pa.s.sion that wells up in you when you play is still there after the performance." She kissed Graham lingeringly. "And I'm always waiting."

"I still don't feel like I take enough time with you." Graham clasped Anna's hand. "Let's explore."

"I need to change." Anna skimmed her fingers over Graham's shirt. "And so do you. I'll find you something."

"I'll wear my jeans," Graham said, following Anna's gentle lead back into the cabin. "Then I'll know I'm really on vacation."

Anna smiled to herself as she opened the suitcases they hadn't yet unpacked. She found a pair of black denim jeans and a soft cotton navy V-neck sweater. Graham had never worn casual clothes off the rack before they'd met. Her wardrobe had been custom-made all of her life, because she'd been performing all of her life. She'd only stopped playing after a car accident left her blind and she'd gone into seclusion for a dozen years. But now, she had returned to the concert stage and to life. Their life.

"Here," Anna said, turning with the clothes in her hands. She stopped, startled despite how many times in their years together the same thing had happened. Graham held out one of Anna's favorite lounging-around outfits, a pale green, scoop neck sweater and tan cotton slacks. "I don't how you do that."

Graham grinned, momentarily softening the austerely handsome planes of her face-a cla.s.sically beautiful face marred by a diagonal scar across her forehead that extended into one eyebrow. That mark of past tragedy only made Anna desire her more.

"I know the way they feel from touching you in them," Graham said. "And I plan on spending a lot more time touching them this evening."

Anna's legs felt suddenly shaky and she laughed self-consciously, as if they weren't longtime lovers but newlyweds on their wedding night. "Stop," she said softly.

Graham cupped Anna's cheek and smiled. "You're blushing."

"I was just thinking that there's something about being here, away from our normal lives-if anything about our life can be called normal-that makes me feel as if it's our first time together. I can't..." She feathered her fingers across Graham's mouth. "I can't wait for you to make love to me."

Graham grew suddenly still, her clear dark eyes focused unerringly on Anna's. She parted Anna's robe and skimmed it off her shoulders, dropping it behind them on the bed. Then she curved an arm around Anna's waist and pulled her close, caressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she kissed her. Anna moaned and leaned into Graham's embrace.

A moment later, Graham glided her lips along the rim of Anna's ear. "Perhaps die tour should wait until morning."

Anna's heart pounded and her stomach tingled in that "wanting to be touched" kind of way that always made her long for Graham's talented hands. Shaking her head, she gently disengaged. "I want to walk with you for a while and think about how wonderful you're going to make me feel later."

"It's a clear night, isn't it? A little bit cool."

"Yes," Anna said, slipping the sweater over her head, loving the freedom of having nothing against her skin except the soft, familiar fabric. "How can you tell?"

"The air is very sharp and crisp, despite the salt spray. It feels as if there's nothing between my skin and the stars except the night."

"There isn't. When we go up on deck, I'll point them out to you. The stars."

"I'd like that."

Anna brushed a lock of dark hair back from Graham's forehead and laughed softly as it promptly fell back. Graham's hair, though carefully styled for the concert stage, was still casually roguish. Traces of gray streaked her temples now, and although she was naturally pale and slender, she radiated vitality and pa.s.sion with every breath.

"I love you," Anna whispered. Not that long ago Graham had nearly slipped away, and Anna would never forget the agony of almost losing her.

Graham looked up from b.u.t.toning her jeans, and as always, Anna felt her gaze. Graham couldn't see her, had never seen her, but she had never felt so known in all the ways that mattered.

"I love you." Graham held out her hand. "Are you prepared to be my tour guide?"

"Always." Anna threaded her fingers through Graham's. "We are in the center of the main room of the suite right now. The bed-a queen size, very nice-is behind us. To your left are-"

"Two sets of double doors to the veranda, which faces the bow and overlooks the port side of the ship. We're on deck nine-Pegasio, which is the highest level containing pa.s.senger cabins. To our right is the sitting room and the door to the bath."

"I told you all this earlier, didn't I?" Anna said, laughing.

"You did. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have gone out onto the veranda."

"Uh huh," Anna said with a hint of disbelief. She tugged Graham toward the door and opened it. "The hallway is ten feet wide with cabin doors opening every twenty feet or so along it. We're at the very front of this deck, so if we walk down the corridor to the central foyer, we'll reach the elevators."

Anna waited while Graham closed the door, her right hand on the handle, and pivoted to face the direction in which they would walk. Although Graham had not been born blind, she had developed an unerring sense of herself in relationship to her environment and adapted very quickly to new surroundings. Still, she could not see and that made her vulnerable, and Anna was intensely attuned to that fact every moment of the day. And every moment of the day, she worked hard so that Graham would not sense her worry.

"Ready?" Anna asked.

Graham took Anna's hand as any lover would upon embarking on a stroll. "Yes."

"The ship is almost nine hundred feet long, which is almost..." Anna hesitated, working on the math as they walked.

"A little bit over an eighth of a mile." Graham tucked Anna's hand in the bend of her arm.

"Something like that." Anna laughed. "Now, this deck actually overlooks one of the main restaurants two decks below." They reached the end of the pa.s.sageway and Anna stopped. "Have you been counting?"

"Yes. To the right are the elevators?"

"That's right. And to the left is the open balcony that rings the restaurant below. Halfway around in that direction are the doors to one of the outside pools. There's also a cabana and bar out there, but they're closed tonight, of course." Anna wanted to tell Graham not to attempt navigating anywhere in this area by herself, but she refrained. In all likelihood Graham would not go anywhere without her. As independent as Graham might be, she wasn't foolhardy. "We can go down to the lounge now, or check out the decks where the health spas and casinos are located, or we can go outside and see the stars."

"We'll have plenty of time to explore the rest of the ship tomorrow," Graham said, draping her arm around Anna's shoulders. "I opt for stars tonight."

"Good." Anna encircled Graham's waist and tilted her head against Graham's shoulder. "Let's find a deck chair to cuddle up in."

Once outside, Anna chose a deck lounger out of the wind and away from the few couples who stood at the rail on the far side of the pool, apparently taking in the view. She tilted the back of the lounger so that it was nearly reclining and said, "You lie down first."

Graham stretched out and Anna settled between her legs, her back to Graham's chest. When Graham's arms came around her, she clasped them and nuzzled her face against Graham's neck. "Perfect."

"Are you cold?" Graham murmured with her lips against Anna's ear.

"No, not with you holding me this way."

"Can you count the stars?"

Anna laughed. "There are thousands."

Graham eased one hand free from Anna's grip and slid it underneath the bottom of Anna's sweater, spreading her fingers over Anna's stomach. "How many can you see directly above us?"

"Oh," Anna mused, realizing how many small stars there were between the bright points of the constellations. "Hundreds."

"Even the wind is different out here," Graham said, tilting her head to one side. "It ebbs and flows as if the sky itself were breathing. Or playing for us."

Anna closed her eyes, hoping to capture the refrain that Graham heard in the night sky. The stars still sparkled beneath her closed lids and her skin tingled, stirred by Graham's fingers moving rhythmically on her bare stomach, recreating the wind-song on her skin. Graham did that unconsciously when a melody formed in her mind, her pianist's fingers playing chords as the music came to her. Anna had fallen hopelessly in love watching Graham play and had lost her heart to the woman whose music was life. Now, years later, she fell in love with her all over again every time Graham played. Tonight, she felt her play.

"Your hands are so warm." Anna shifted her hips between Graham's legs, feeling the heat spread from Graham's hands throughout her stomach and settle deep, deep inside.

"Your skin is so soft." Graham skimmed her other hand beneath Anna's sweater, this hand cooler than the first had been. When Anna tensed, Graham stilled. "Too cold?"

"Mmm, no. It feels wonderful." Anna kissed Graham's neck, then, eyes still closed, she arched one arm back and slid her hand behind Graham's neck, tugging Graham's head lower so she could find her mouth. She kissed her, exploring her lips and inside her mouth as if her tongue were all she could see or touch her with. When Graham lightly sucked on the tip of her tongue, Anna moaned. "I think we should go back to our cabin."

"I think you should let us play for you, the wind and I." Graham cupped Anna's b.r.e.a.s.t.s and rippled her fingers over the nipples, scoring the melody, note by flowing note. "Listen, Anna."

Anna strained to feel what Graham heard, her body electric with silent sound. A sliver of cool night air licked her belly where Graham's wrists tented her sweater, and she tightened inside. Or was it Graham's fingertips, as soft and clever as her mouth, gracefully tracing a phrase over her breast, striking a cantabile deep in her flesh that ignited the familiar ache? Anna couldn't tell. Like a countermelody, elusive and sweet, she felt Graham's hands in places beyond her body and her blood. Her pa.s.sion brimmed and pulsed, as fluid and graceful as the chords that flowed beneath Graham's hands on the concert stage. Pleasure pierced her nipples and converged in a single point between her legs. She floated on the music flowing in and around her-the distant rush of water, Graham's heartbeat, her own breathless moans. So much beauty to hold, too much pleasure to contain. She ached to spill into the night, onto the wind, over Graham's hands.

"Graham," Anna gasped, trembling in the curve of Graham's body, "what you're doing to me. I can't keep it all inside. I need to ... oh, G.o.d I need to let go. Will you make me come?"

"Yes," Graham breathed against Anna's ear. "Anything. Always."

Anna fumbled to open her slacks. "It won't take very long. I'm so ready for you."

"Don't hurry." Graham slid her hand down Anna's stomach, beneath her shorts, and cupped her tenderly. "Tell me what you see."

"Lights sparkling everywhere. Endlessly." Anna arched her back and pressed herself to Graham's palm. She was wet and open, aching to be filled. "Please put your fingers on me... oh, I love when you touch me ..."

"Is the moon very bright?"

"Yes, very... oh, there, that's perfect... just keep touching me there and I'll-"

"What else?" Graham caressed her lingeringly, then fleetingly, now harder, then softly, coaxing every note from her flesh.

"Wisps of cloud . . . there, oh you're prefect. . . touch right there ..." Anna whimpered when Graham's fingertip circled the spot on the underside of her straining c.l.i.toris that always made her come. She needed to come so badly she couldn't think, couldn't speak, but still she tried. She wanted Graham to see. "Clouds... like a veil obscuring the face of a beautiful woman... I'm going to come soon, darling."

Graham stroked faster, ma.s.saging the place that made Anna moan. "You're my night sky, Anna," Graham whispered, "and the light of all my days."

Anna's o.r.g.a.s.m played in her depths, a teasing melody she couldn't quite grasp. "Inside ... I need you inside me ... darling, please."

"Do you hear it, love?" Graham entered her, one finger after the other until Anna tightened around her and tossed her head in wordless pleasure. Groaning, Graham pressed harder. "You will always be the music, Anna."

"You'll make me ... oh, G.o.d, I can't..." Anna pushed down against Graham's hand, forcing her deeper. "More ... bring me, darling... oh, I'm so close now..."

"Listen, Anna," Graham urged, thrusting smoothly, her movements a glissando that carried her lover toward climax. "Listen to the..."

"I'm coming," Anna cried softly, burying her face against Graham's chest. She sobbed her joy into die night and the wind carried her song to the stars. "I love you. I love you with all I am.

Graham held Anna tightly, her mouth skimming Anna's. "I love you. When I touch you, I..." Her voice drifted off as Anna kissed her throat and worked a hand inside her jeans.

"You what, darling?" Anna cupped and squeezed with a slow, steady rhythm, the last notes of her own o.r.g.a.s.m still drifting through her body. Graham was hot beneath her hand, her slim form vibrating with tension. Graham always needed release right after she made Anna come, needed Anna to finish her quickly and hard. "Can you still hear the windsong?"

"Yes," Graham groaned, covering Anna's hand and guiding Anna's fingers to the hard ache between her thighs. "Anna... Anna..."

"What, my love?"

Graham cupped Anna's cheek as the first surge of release broke through her. "The sky," she gasped, shuddering helplessly in Anna's embrace, "the sky is beautiful out here, isn't it?"

"So beautiful." Anna took care that her tears did not fall on Graham's face. As much as her heart ached for the hurt that even her boundless love could not heal, she rejoiced in knowing that their love song was eternal.

Cruise Crews Karin Kallmaker "I don't speak Italian," Wendy said in the other woman's ear, hoping at least that much of her English would be understood.

Apparently it was, because the strong arms around her tightened with a little shrug, and the smoky-eyed officer went back to kissing Wendy as they swayed on the discotheque floor.

It was after two a.m., and some members of the crew-female members-had evidently just gotten off duty. At first Wendy wondered if they'd showed up just to check out the queers, but when two began dancing with each other and several more flirted with potential playmates, she'd revised her opinion of their interest.

By now, her ex-best friend Brittany was probably underneath the Chain Maille drummer. It was the first night out, and hanging in the disco on the chance one of the musicians might show up to dance had been Wendy's idea. When the band's dead s.e.xy drummer, Lila, had strolled through the door, she and Brittany had done a little femme dance for her amus.e.m.e.nt-also Wendy's idea. When Lila got bored and left, Brittany had gone chasing after her like a lapdog while Wendy was in the bathroom.

They might be groupies, but even groupies had some pride. Abandoned, Wendy had blown their first night's drink budget in less than an hour, but then the white-uniformed women had started showing up. The one holding her right now had bought Wendy her last drink. So maybe she couldn't kick it with Lila or Jojo or Reo. A hot woman in uniform was most certainly the next best thing.

The woman said something, and for all Wendy knew she'd just described some kind of gastrointestinal difficulty. It didn't matter-everything she said sounded seductive and romantic. The kisses were deep and wet.

In between the next round of kisses, Wendy put her hand on her chest and repeated her name.

"Sophia," was what she got in reply, and they merged again. Sophia's hands were starting to wander and Wendy didn't mind in the least. Normally she would be a bouncing ball to a Paul Oakenfold remix, but their rhythm had nothing to do with the music that pounded out of the speakers, or the lights that pulsed in the floor beneath their feet.

What, Wendy wondered, did an officer wear under her uniform? If she unb.u.t.toned the form-fitting jacket, would she discover a non-regulation lacy bra? A s.e.xy tattoo? Adventurous piercings? Did it matter as long as there were nipples and skin and nerves underneath all that pristine white? If there was a driving beat and a scream of pure living before the night was done, Wendy would be a happy woman. She leaned into the kisses, hoping her tongue was speaking a universal language.

Though the music made it hard to hear anything else, Wendy heard someone shouting in what sounded like Italian. It took her a muddled moment to realize that the tirade was directed at Sophia-and her, it seemed. Sophia immediately launched into a counter-tirade, and Wendy watched helplessly as a bleached blonde with seriously bad black roots slapped Sophia hard enough to leave a handprint across her cheek.

Wendy might have received the same, but Sophia got between them and pushed the still shouting woman toward the exit. Wendy didn't know what ficona meant, but she was certain it could not possibly flatter her.

And Wendy thought she'd seen some d.y.k.e drama in her day. d.y.k.e drama in a foreign language was a whole new level.

Left standing in the middle of the dance floor with all eyes on her, Wendy wanted to say, "I didn't know she had a girlfriend," but what was the point? She gathered up her tattered dignity and went to the bathroom in the hope that Sophia and the madwoman had gone somewhere far enough away that Wendy could return to her cabin without encountering either of them.

The splash of cool water on her face helped calm her frayed nerves. Brittany was going to pay for abandoning her, and pay double if she actually managed to get laid. Wendy's chances of first night nooky were nil at this point. What a total waste of a bikini wax and Wonder bra it had turned out to be.

The flash of a white uniform behind her made her gasp and turn in alarm.

The newcomer was one of the other officers who'd been eyeing the dance floor since arriving. Taking Wendy's hand, she said something that might have been about the threat of global warming, but whatever it was she said, it was with a kind smile and an air of apology, followed by a roll of the eyes that clearly indicated that other people were nuts. All Wendy understood for sure was the hand on the chest and, "Carmella."

She repeated her name, and Carmella nodded and gave her a little bow.

"Scuse," she said, or something that sounded like that, then she disappeared into one of the stalls.

Wendy finished dabbing at her face. She was trying to repair some of the damage to her makeup when Carmella joined her at the sink. After washing her hands, she leaned against the counter, watching Wendy in the mirror.

She met Carmella's gaze in their reflection and smiled politely. Carmella nodded back but didn't leave. Wendy filled in her smudged eyeliner, then glanced again at Carmella, who smiled even more broadly and went on watching.

"What?"

Her annoyed question was lost on Carmella, who shrugged without comprehension.

Wendy gathered her makeup back into her purse and headed for the door. A long arm opened it for her before she got there. She muttered her thanks.