Robin Scorpio waggled her eyes dramatically as she leaned over a prone figure in a deck chair. Propping her hands on the armrests for support, she relentlessly zeroed in on the sunglasses-clad occupant of the chair, who sank lower and lower as she sang.

"The loooooove boat, soon will be making another run……..

"If you sing that song *one more time*………." The petite brunette in the chair rose up and spat the words fiercely at a giggling Robin. "……I swear, I’m going to ask the captain to dump you somewhere near the Bermuda triangle!!"

"Ohhhhh, Brenda……." Robin laughed gaily as she bounced into a deck chair next to her friend’s. "Don’t be such a Pooh Bear! I mean, take a look around you, for goodness sake!" She gestured broadly to her left towards the glittering aqua water and happily frolicking passengers in the swimming pool on the Lido Deck. "We’re on a luxury cruise ship, it’s sunny and warm, we’re surrounded by gorgeous men and all the food we can eat, and it’s all FREE!" She leaned back, tipping her elfin face up to the sun, and sighed. "Can’t you just FORGET about work for a while?"

Brenda Barrett grimaced. She turned to Robin and pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to look over them admonishingly. "May I remind you, dear friend, that the only reason we’re ON the Sapphire Princess is because we’re WORKING???!!!" When Robin stuck her tongue out at her friend playfully, Brenda just shook her head and sighed, folding her hands in her lap. "And if there were really THAT many gorgeous men on this cruise, we wouldn’t be in such a mell of a hess!"

"We’ll find the right man, Brenda……" Robin sat up, leaned over the side of the chair to pull some large sunglasses out of her purse, and then critically eyed the men walking back and forth in front of them on the deck. "We just haven’t been looking hard enough – that’s all."

Brenda’s eyes flitted back and forth for almost thirty seconds before she gripped the armrests of the deck chair firmly. "Robin, we’ve been on this boat……."

"….I think they call it a ship……"

"…….this *ship*," Brenda growled in correction, "almost three days. Lucy needs the rough cuts of the ad campaign for a meeting with the executives of Princess Cruise Lines the day after tomorrow." She leaned closer to Robin. "That’s less than *48 hours*, Robin," she added through gritted teeth, "and even though we’ve ogled every ounce of available male flesh on this floating sin bin, we STILL don’t have a body double for Mr. Wonderful up there!"

Brenda nodded towards a tall, muscular blonde man sitting in a recliner on the deck above them. Lucas Lorenzo Spencer – called "Lucky" by those who knew him well – was Lucy Coe’s immediate first choice for a male spokesmodel as soon as her public relations firm, Baldwin-Coe, landed the Princess Cruise Lines account. Visions of dollar signs danced in Lucy’s head at the thought of Lucky being photographed by the legendary Brenda Barrett. With Lucky’s sensual good looks and Brenda’s talent wielding the lens, there was no way the campaign could be anything less than stellar.

The ink on the contract with the cruise line was barely dry when Lucy had contacted Lucky about the ad campaign. His manager/girlfriend, Elizabeth Webber, was generally considered by most in the business to be a pain, but Lucy managed to work out the details that found Lucky and Brenda on the next Caribbean cruise – with Elizabeth along to protect his interests, of course. Brenda had insisted on only the top of the line for her camera crew, including her best friend and assistant photographer, Robin Scorpio.

The concept for the campaign was "inspired," as Lucy insisted to anyone who would listen. Lucky would be seen in various shots around the cruise ship – relaxing in the hot tub, leaning against the rail as the sun sank lower in the west, tuxedo-clad and lifting a glass of champagne at a candlelit table for two – as the voiceover invited viewers to let Princess Lines, "make the fantasy come alive……." Careful research had revealed that most cruises were booked by women, so Lucy had decided that the "hunk factor" definitely was in order for this campaign. With his chiseled good looks, piercing blue eyes, tousled blonde locks, and hard, young body, Lucky Spencer was sure to make women everywhere dream of starlit nights and moonlit romance. And with Brenda – whose talents with a camera were inherited from her Pulitzer Prize-winning mother – snapping the photos, the campaign could only mean money in the bank for Princess Cruises. There was NO WAY it could fail.

No way. Until Lucky Spencer got the chicken pox from his younger sister, Lulu, two weeks before the cruise.

The good news, as Liz kept pointing out to Brenda, was that Lucky had hardly gotten any blisters at all on his face. The bad news – as Brenda was quick to point out to Liz – was that his chest and upper torso looked like someone had splattered him with red paint. Liz countered that Brenda could shoot the tuxedo shots first, and by the time Lucky had to appear shirtless by the pool, it was possible the scabs would have disappeared. But when they had tried to take some preliminary shots the first night out from port and scarring was visible below Lucky’s wrists, Brenda knew she had to do something, and fast.

Baldwin-Coe couldn’t afford to lose the Princess Lines account. They were just getting on their feet in the small town of Port Charles, New York, that Brenda called home. So after some lengthy long-distance conference calls with Lucy, Brenda and Robin were given the dubious task of finding another man on board the cruise ship that could work as a "body double." Brenda would photograph HIM in the various shots around the ship, and then later superimpose Lucky’s facial features.

"I’m sure we haven’t seen EVERY man on the ship yet, Brenda," Robin said in a conciliatory tone.

"Ohhhhhh, nooooo………" Brenda shot back sarcastically. "I’ll bet that even as we speak, Mr. Perfect is down in the bingo parlor on the Promenade Deck!" She glared up at a dark-haired vixen who was clinging to Lucky like white on rice. "And you know, I still can’t *believe* the gall that Liz Webber has – suggesting that we go ahead with Lucky as the model and just air brush out the scarring!" She sat back in her deck chair with a loud snort. "We’d be nominated for an Oscar for Special Effects if we ever managed to cover up those hickeys!"

Robin smiled wanly at Brenda’s vehemence. "I guess Liz just didn’t want to lose a big fat commission if Lucky’s contract goes down the tubes on this one, Brenda." Then she sighed as she began to scan the crowded deck for a possible candidate. "We can be glad Lucy’s the one who normally has to deal with her……"

"Yeah, well that’s why I prefer to just deal with my cameras," Brenda added tersely. "At least they can’t talk back to you……."

The two friends sat in silence for several minutes before Robin sat up straight. "Wait a minute………" Her eyes widened and she grabbed Brenda’s arm excitedly. "Look!" She pointed towards the Lido Deck pool. "Look at that one!"

Brenda frowned and squinted as she turned towards the pool. "Which one?" She shaded her eyes against the late-afternoon glare of the sun. "The one who just went down the slide head first and almost wiped out the buxom redhead in the thong?"

"No, no……." Robin slapped Brenda’s arm impatiently and then pointed towards the object of her attentions. "The one getting out the pool towards the deep end, near the diving board – with the blue speedos on…….."

Brenda peered forward but then straightened up abruptly. "Welllllllllll…….." She chewed on her lower lip. "Why haven’t we seen YOU before, Mr. Tall, Blonde……. and Perfect??!!"

As the two women watched breathlessly, the object of their attentions sprang to a standing position on the side of the pool. He used both hands to wipe the excess moisture out of his eyes, sliding them through his closely-cropped, sun-kissed hair. As he did, the action inadvertently showcased the sculpted planes of his bronzed chest.

"Ohhhhhh, my God, Brenda……." Robin breathed reverently. "He’s …….he’s……….he’s the ONE!! Mr. Perfect!!"

With the two of them still rendered speechless, Mr. Perfect ambled slowly towards the diving board. He climbed the few steps, strolled to the end of the board, hesitated a few seconds in concentration, and then dove cleanly off the board, cutting the water like a knife and barely raising a splash.

"He’s probably one of those California surf bums," Brenda muttered, never looking away from the blonde Adonis. "And his entire vocabulary probably consists of the words "yo" and "dude.""

"Who cares?" Robin caught her breath audibly as he climbed out of the water again, the corded muscles in his arms standing out with the exertion. "He doesn’t have to *say* anything, Brenda – there’s no dialogue in the ad. He just has to stand there."

"Yeah – I guess……."

"And who *cares* where he’s from?" Robin added. She gave Brenda’s arm a gentle push. "Go ahead – go get him before he gets away."

Brenda spun to face Robin. "What do you mean, go GET him?"

"I mean go *talk* to him and get him to agree to pose for the campaign shots," Robin glowered.

"But why does it have to be ME?" Both women turned to look at their Adonis again and breathed simultaneous sighs of relief when he settled onto a deck chair to tan himself. Brenda self-consciously picked at a loose thread on the hemline of her cotton shorts. "You know I’m not good at handling people and orchestrating things……."

"Oh, yeah – right!" Robin giggled. "That’s why the guys on the camera crew call you General Patton the second!"

"Alright," Brenda conceded with a grimace, "I admit I can be pretty good on location." She waved a hand at the reclining man, whose hair – drying in the sun – was turning into spikey shocks of spun gold. "But you’re my assistant, after all, and since I’m in charge of the camera shots……"

"And you KNOW how Jason feels about me talking to other men," Robin countered softly.

"Geez, you’re only *engaged* to the guy, Robin!" Brenda whined. "He doesn’t OWN you!" "Jason" was Jason Morgan, an enigmatic, too-quiet-for-Brenda’s-taste young man who had captured Robin’s heart almost a year earlier. Although he and Robin apparently managed to have a strong, loving relationship, most of the time Brenda felt awkward and out of place in his presence. He smiled rarely and spoke even less. But as long as he made Robin happy, he was A-OK in Brenda’s book.

"That’s true……." Robin’s lips thinned but then she broke into a broad smile when something inside her large purse started to beep. "Ahhhh! My phone!" As she leaned over and reached inside the bag with one hand, she pointed towards the Lido deck with the other. "So while I take this, you’d better go get Mr. Perfect nailed down before he disappears into thin air again and we have to explain it to Lucy!"

Brenda mouthed an obscenity but then took a deep breath. She rose from her deck chair, smoothing her white cotton shorts and re-adjusting her bright turquoise halter top nervously. Slipping into the turquoise mules that sat next to her deck chair, she carefully made her way towards the winding circular staircase that led to the Lido deck and pool area.

"Love…..won’t hurt anymore………

Her hand on the banister, Brenda turned back to glare at a giggling Robin one last time when she heard her crooning the verse of the song. She took a deep breath, then climbed the stairs to find herself on the elevated Lido deck amidst happily frolicking, swimsuit-clad passengers.

As she approached Mr. Perfect, Brenda felt a tingle of excitement race down her spine. He really *did* have a body to die for – broad chest; well-defined abs; flat tummy; long, lean arms and legs. If he wasn’t some kind of sun worshipper or surf bum, he must have spent long hours in the gym attaining that kind of physical flawlessness. The closer she got, the more she realized that he might already BE a model – his facial features, even with his eyes closed against the sun, were just as matchless as the rest of him.

At a loss for words when dealing with something without a telephoto lens and micron filter, Brenda soon found herself standing in front of Mr. Perfect’s deck chair, silently wringing her hands. Just as she was about to give up and run back down to Robin in defeat, his eyes popped open and she found herself drowning in blue/green orbs the color of the serene Caribbean.

"Hello……" Brenda caught her breath at the sound of Mr. Perfect’s voice. He had some kind of accent – she hadn’t really heard that much to pinpoint it, but it was sexy as heck. She returned his smile as he sat up in the chair. "Can I help you?"

{Ohhhhhhhhh, you *sure* can………}

Brenda tried to keep her eyes from straying down south of his waist, where a small vertical trail of blonde hair led into the dangerous clinging unknown of his speedos. "You……..I………" She finally swallowed hard to regain her composure and pointed back over her shoulder. "Well, my friend and I were just sitting down on the Riviera Deck and we saw you and…….." His blonde eyebrows rose expectantly. "Well, that was just an AMAZING dive you did back there!"

"Thanks – but it really was nothing," Mr. Perfect averred with another devastating smile. Brenda momentarily considered tossing Lucky Spencer overboard the next time she saw him. This unknown had him beaten far and away in the raw sex appeal department.

"Oh, I wouldn’t say that. It was really………" Brenda clasped her hands behind her in desperation and starting rocking back and forth from heels to toes. "……..really something."

"Really." Mr. Perfect’s upper lip curled slightly as his loss of patience and interest became more obvious. "Thanks. Again."

"You’re welcome." More rocking and nervous clasping and unclasping. "Again." When Mr. Perfect began to look around him – obviously for the Life Guard in charge of protecting men from inept, boring females – Brenda grimaced and let out a long breath. "Look, I’m no good at this small talk stuff, so I’ll get right to the point……."

"Good." He wasn’t rude – more like relieved. And he was still smiling, which gave Brenda some hope of success.

"OK – right to the point." She licked her lips, smacked them together, bobbed her head a little, and then took a deep breath and let it out quickly. "I need your body."

Mr. Perfect’s eyes widened and he tipped his head to the side – but still smiled. "Excuse me?"

"Oh…….." Brenda laughed and put her hand to her chest self-consciously. "Oh, it’s not just for ME!!" She pointed back down towards the deck chairs she had shared with Robin just moments before. "Actually, it’s for my friend and I……."

One blonde eyebrow arched and the smile – unfortunately – disappeared. "Your friend AND you?"

"…….and the rest of our crew, of course……." Brenda put both hands out in front of her in a re-assuring gesture. "But it’s only for a few days ……."

"A few days……." Still no smile.

"And nights!! Just until we can get the action wrapped up!!" Brenda’s eyes started to sparkle as another inspiration struck. "And we’d pay you REALLY well!"

Mr. Perfect nodded but still didn’t quite smile. "I just BET you would."

"You know, I’m not handling this at all well." Brenda tangled her hands in her raven curls in exasperation before settling one hand on her hip. "My boss, Lucy, usually negotiates the details in situations like this……."

Both blonde eyebrows rose this time. "Your boss is a woman?"

"Uh-huh," Brenda replied absently. "Well, she’s my boss as far as the paperwork and detail stuff goes, and *technically* she co-owns the business with her ex-husband, Scott. But when I’m out on a remote location like this one, I’m pretty much in charge of what goes on……."

"Well, that’s a relief!"

Brenda could scarcely ignore the sarcasm in Mr. Perfect’s voice. "You know," she said, backing away from him a little, "maybe you shouldn’t give me an answer right now!"

"Oh, I think I should……."

The negative reaction clearly visible in his eyes sent her stomach reeling. "No, I think you shouldn’t." She held both hands out in front of her beseechingly as she backed towards the stairs. "I think you should consider all your options and then maybe we can discuss it over dinner……"

"HEADS UP!!!"

Brenda barely heard the loud warning shout from the deck above them before the world spun out of focus. She felt herself falling – no, more like being *hurtled* to the ground just before something went whizzing past her head. The next thing she knew, she was trapped beneath Mr. Perfect’s delectable body on the deck chair he had just recently occupied as something clattered to the deck noisily about three feet from them.

"Bloody h*ll!" She vaguely heard Mr. Perfect swearing beneath his breath as she lay pinned beneath his muscular, minimally-clad body. An instant later, he was holding her hand, assisting her to a sitting position as he stared anxiously into the dark brown velvet of her eyes. "Are you OK?"

"Uh……yeah……." Brenda put her hand to her forehead – dizzy both from the sudden change in altitude and from being enveloped by Mr. Perfect’s warm, sensual scent. "I think so." She looked around them as he continued to hold onto her waist proprietarily. "What happened?"

"Somebody forgot to yell "four!", I think," he replied dryly. He rose from the chair and bent to pick up a large plastic disk, which he waved at the upper deck with disdain. "Don’t you idiots know how to play shuffleboard up there?"

A middle-aged man in a white polo shirt and white cotton trousers waved cheerfully. "Sorry!" He caught the disk that Mr. Perfect tossed back up to him. "Guess we got a little carried away!"

The blonde Adonis turned back to Brenda and offered her a hand up. "You sure that it didn’t hit you?"

"Positive – thanks to you."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

A playful smile lifted the corners of Brenda’s mouth. "Reconsider my offer?"

"Ummmmm…….sorry. Although you certainly do know how to try to change a man’s mind." When Mr. Perfect’s eyes strayed downwards, Brenda chanced a glance in the same direction. She was horrified to see that the dampness from his body had been transferred to hers, and her breasts were now clearly outlined in the nearly-transparent halter she wore.

She fought the urge to cross her arms across herself like a Victorian prude. "Yes, well – maybe I’ll see you tonight at dinner and we can discuss it further." She beat a hasty retreat towards the stairs and waved a hand jauntily in the air. "Nice meeting you!"

"Nice meeting you, too!" he called. He propped his hands on his hips for a moment to admire the dampened rear view of the brunette vixen, then whistled softly. And he thought this was going to be a boring assignment.

#*#*#*#

Jasper Jacks paused outside the door to his luxurious stateroom suite on the Aloha deck of the Sapphire Princess. He grabbed both ends of the towel wrapped loosely around his neck, looked one way, then the other, and then put his hand gingerly on the doorknob. It gave way easily, which drew a muffled curse.

He pushed the door open just slightly, then checked both ends of the narrow hallway again. After assuring himself that he was alone, Jax reached into the pocket of the running shorts he wore over his swimsuit, drew a small-caliber handgun, and then kicked the door to the stateroom wide open. He jumped inside, both hands gripping the gun tightly, and pivoted from right to left, scanning the room for any signs of life.

As soon as he saw the small tape recorder sitting on the round table near the couch, Jax’s body relaxed. He lowered his weapon, glanced around the room one more time, and then kicked the door shut behind him. "Bloody h*ll…….." Running his fingers through his hair, he muttered to himself as he strode purposefully towards the small unit. "Today’s just been *full* of surprises……."

Jax shoved the handgun into his waistband at the small of his back as he continued to stare at the miniature recording device. He rubbed his face briskly with the flat of both hands, then paused for a second before pressing the small red button that would activate the "play" function.

"Good afternoon, Commander Jacks……."

"Easy for you to say, Donnelly," Jax muttered acidly. "Just what the h*ll am I doing here?"

"I guess you’re wondering by now what you’re doing on a luxury cruise liner in the middle of the Caribbean." Jax smiled sarcastically as the husky voice echoed his sentiment. "Knowing you, Commander, you probably wish you were still on a deserted island in the south Pacific with the rest of your SEAL unit instead of operating alone in the lap of luxury."

"You can say that again."

"And I’m sure that you’ve called me all kinds of choice names for pulling you from that training mission on just the second day out."

"D*mn straight."

"Jax, you know I wouldn’t have interrupted your operation if it wasn’t urgent." The voice gentled a little. "Someone near and dear to me called in an old favor, and in this situation, I wanted someone I knew I could count on to get the job done. Only the best the Navy has to offer. And that’s you."

Jax shook his head and snorted softly. "Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Sean."

"And yes, I know – flattery won’t get me anywhere. But I wanted you to know that I really need you on this one, Jax – I care about……..well, let’s just say that I’ll feel a lot better with you on the case." The voice became more impersonal again. "You’ll get the details on exactly what’s involved through the customary channels. As usual, this tape will self-destruct in ten seconds. Good luck, Commander. God speed."

Jax silently ticked off the time until there was a soft hissing noise and dark smoke rose from the recording unit. He waited until it dissipated, then took what was left of the ashes and scooped them into his hand. He walked to the small bathroom of the suite, brushed them into the toilet, and sent them swirling when he flushed.

"Sean, Sean, Sean…….." Jax muttered his commanding officer’s name through gritted teeth as he returned to the main sitting portion of the suite. "Just what the h*ll did you get me into……"

A faint noise from the hallway drew Jax’s immediate attention. He crouched down, backing away from the door as he saw the knob turning ever so slightly. Drawing his weapon again, he aimed it firmly at the door and watched as it slowly opened a hair’s breadth.

Jax held his breath. The door stopped, then opened a little further. He released the safety on his weapon and started to squeeze the trigger but then stopped with a shocked expletive.

"Ohhhhhh, nooooooooo………"

A tall, dark-haired man in black trousers and a white jacket emblazoned with the cruise line’s logo smiled broadly at Jax. "Well, hello there, little brother!" Jerry Jacks called merrily. "Were you expecting someone else?"

To be continued………

Music credit: "The Love Boat Theme," from the TV series, "The Love Boat," written by P. Williams and C. Fox, performed by Jack Jones (1977-85) and Dionne Warwick (1985-6)