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was great. Every kid grows up knowing there’s more to the world than your own backyard. But it’s different when you find yourself standing at the base of the Eiffel Tower, the foot of Buckingham Palace, in the ruins of Pompeii. That’s when I decided never to settle.”
    “Settle for what?”
    “The ordinary. The bill of goods.”
    “Bill of goods?”
    “I guess most people would call it the American dream. House with a picket fence, spouse, two-point-five children, and of course, a dog. A man who falls for that trap finds himself tied to a forty-hour-a-week job that turns into eighty so he can pay for the children, the house. And keep in mind, whatever time he's not working to pay for the house is spent fixing the house. I won’t even get into what a wife costs a man.”
    “Ooh, a cynic.”
    “No, practical. I don’t want to wind up like an old rock-and-roll song.”
    “Rock-and-roll song?”
    “You know. The one about the high school sweethearts whose life goes on even after the thrill of living is gone. I plan to enjoy the thrill of living until the day I die.”
    Kirk centered his knife and fork on the plate, and waved for the waiter.
    A thin man, probably in his mid-fifties, the waiter scurried across the crowded floor. “Are you ready for dessert?”
    The standard reply, No, thank you. I don’t eat sweets, sprang to mind, but she managed to smother the words before they tumbled forth. “Anything with lots of chocolate.”
    The waiter turned to Kirk.
    “I’ll have the same, only with ice cream.”
    “Excellent.” As quickly as he’d arrived, the waiter disappeared across the room.
    “Where were we?” Kirk asked.
    “The thrill of living. And your friend feels the same way?”
    “He did until he fell into the trap.”
    “Ah, a house with two-point-five children?”
    “A condo in San Francisco. No kids yet, but they’ve got the dog. I think Deb is letting Dave practice on the puppy before she entrusts him to fatherhood.”
    Now that made Michelle laugh. “But he still travels with you every year. Well, except this year.”
    “Deb’s a good sport, for a wife. I get him two weeks a year, she gets him the other fifty, but enough on that. What will it be tonight? The casino? A show? Dancing?”
    She didn’t need an angel on her shoulder to know she should tell him No, thank you . After all, as a woman who looked both ways, twice, before crossing the street, she would have never wasted her time on a man who considered family a trap and believed playing hard the only way to live.
    That’s why the last seven years of her life had been spent with Steven, a steady, responsible, respected citizen. Then again, look where that got her.
    In the two days spent with Kirk, she’d smiled, giggled, and laughed more than she had in the five years she’d been engaged to Steven. In eight more days she would be back in Bluffview, responsible for a home, a teenager, and setting a good example. Her skirts would be long enough to cover her knees, her heels low and comfortable, her drinks nonalcoholic, and her life safe and sensible.
    A monochromatic picture of her as an old woman sprang to mind. Rocking alone on the front porch, in a polyester polka- dot dress with sensible shoes, petting a sleeping cat, the poor old spinster left at the altar fifty years ago.
    By golly, if only for ten days of her long sensible, comfortable life, she would know the thrill of living. “I vote for dancing!”
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    The morning sun winked at Michelle through the sliver of space between the drawn curtains. Snuggled comfortably in the warmth of her cabin, she burrowed deeper under the covers, and mumbled into her pillow, “Five more minutes.”
    “Mm,” a baritone voice agreed as a heavy arm circled her middle and pulled her close against a strong hard body. The fuzzy patch of hair on his bare chest tickled the skin of her naked back.
    Naked? Michelle’s eyes flew open. The brazen sunlight shot painful