A Steamy Steampunk Cruise

By Marina Peters

Under the hot Brasilian sun, waiting as the last in the queue for boarding the cruise ship to New York, Monica Jackson, is not at all delighted. Assigned as an auditor to this Steampunk-themed cruise, the journey is going to be more work than fun. But then another passenger is queuing up behind her. And when a deep, velveting voice from behind wishes her a "Bom dia" she turns around. Seeing the tall, strong, good-looking man, she starts to looking forward to a more promising and hotter cruise than she could ever have dreamed of.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marina Peters
• Release date: Jul 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393502418

Marina Peters

Marina is a part-time Audit Director working for one of the big auditing companies. She likes her job, all the beautiful things in life and writing. She loves her husband and her two kids. As writing is Marina's passion she combines all the topics where she has expert knowledge with writing. Thereof grew some non-fiction books and also the fictional Martin Muller Audit series.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

No sir, I- yes, yes, I have the documents, I say, looking at the folder I am using to fan myself.

I love Brazil, but Santos is extremely hot this morning.

Of course- no, not really, I'm in the boarding queue and AH! Yes! I spoke to Marie to postpone this meeting because- exactly, yes sir I speak and he laughs, he demands and I deliver.

Mr. Johnson has nothing to complain about me, we have a good relationship because I am punctual and discreet in my work and I always do them with excellence. This time it will be no different, well, I hope ... if I don't die of heat before.

I’m already the second audit manager who works on this cruise, and yet, everyone always missed something, when old Johnson decided to turn to me, his lovely secret weapon, I knew that something was wrong here, the person responsible for this only it's too meticulous to let the other auditor find out, but well, I'm not the other auditor.

When the call is over, I keep hitting the bottom of my perfectly white shoe on the asphalt, in my endless waiting under the sun of the tropical country, blessed by God and beautiful by nature, at least that's what the song says. I shift my weight from leg to leg, alternating between placing the folder full of documents atop of my head and using it like a sombrero or fanning myself. Both tasks result in the same hot stress. Great idea to be the last one in line to have time to observe everyone who would board and draw a mental map of the crew and passengers, a bad idea to do that person-watching under the hot sun.

I don't get scared when someone stops behind me, becoming the new last in line.

I did not turn before to look, but when the deep, velvety voice penetrates my eardrums rasping an alluring "Bom dia" I slightly move my neck left, looking from the corner of my eye and inspecting a tall man.

My Portuguese is not very sharp, and of course, the height he mixed with the soft sound of his voice and the fresh smell that emanated from his body even under that heat slightly distracted me. For sure, I vote for education and return the words with a positive nod and a tight smile.

I'm pretty sure he wished me a good day, but if he said he was going to throw me off the ship in the middle of the night on the open sea, well, I agreed and I will never know.

"Está calor, não?" He speaks again and I turn around completely.

Tall, strong, short hair and almond-shaped eyes highlighted by sun-colored cheeks, wearing shorts with a matching crisp beige shirt, a tone that contrasts deliciously with the chocolate color of his skin, the figure that looks at me with a gentle smile is the living proof that God exists and apparently, is South American.

My mouth instantly goes dry.

"Oh, uh... Eu não entendo muito sua língua" I don't stutter much, but my accent is unnatural, I try to say that I don't understand his language and the laugh he lets out accentuates the apple red that it is sure to burn on my cheeks, however, the sound is light, pleasant and without a hint of mockery.

I see, I'm sorry, I said that it was hot today he finally makes himself understood and speaks English with me; I nod again and shrug, stating that the damage has been minimal. I'm Pedro

It's a pleasure, Pedro I shake his hand. So, a big Steampunk fan? I ask. Such a man does not seem to appreciate grace in primitive steam-powered technologies at all.

He looks at the ship and I involuntarily do the same. The long and imposing carcass painted in black, with details in