expression changed, softened a bit. “That’s it, isn’t it? Some man told you that. Jesus. No wonder … ” He came back to where she was sitting and took her in his arms, nestled her head onto his shoulder. “I apologize for getting angry. But don’t put me in the same category as someone who hurt you. Not all men think alike. And those of us who don’t think like whoever-he-was might resent your assuming we do.”
The tears that wouldn’t be held back any longer ran down her face. “Somehow I’ve turned the best two days of my life into the worst morning of my life and I didn’t mean to do that at all. I just wanted to … ”
“You just want to ward off what you’re afraid will happen because you think I’m like him. I don’t know who he was; I don’t care; it doesn’t matter. Whoever he is, I’m not like that. I would never hurt you that way.” He turned her face up. “You have to believe me, Cynthia. Please.” He gently kissed her forehead. “Please?”
She nestled into his embrace. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was trying to be realistic, to make you understand that I know I’m not the kind of woman you … ”
“Not the kind of woman I what? Want to be with? Could fall in love with? What?” He stroked her face with his fingers.
It wasn’t until they heard, “Oh, for God’s sake, kiss and make up so we can all go back to having breakfast,” that they realized they’d been playing the scene out before an audience.
Startled, Cynthia bolted out of his arms, but Marius grabbed her hand to keep her from running. He waved his free hand toward the other boats. “That doesn’t matter, Cynthia. This does. Do you trust me or not? I need to know,
querida
.”
“I trust you.” She shook her head. “But I’m afraid.”
Marius stood and put his hands on her shoulders. “Then trust me when I say this: I will never hurt you. You have my word.” And then he kissed her. Not the passionate kiss of the lover of the night before, but the tender kiss of someone who was as much friend as lover, as much protector as friend.
When she looked into his eyes after they parted, she saw concern; she saw determination; she saw affection. She saw what might be the future. Sighing she dropped her head onto his chest and he held her.
A few moments later, to the sound of applause and a couple of whistles, he led her below where he got to hear her say his name on the other side of the bed.
Chapter 10
Over the next week, Cynthia learned that she and Marius worked well together at more than sailing and sex. As they hiked, biked, and explored small towns; she found their interests and abilities meshing in surprising ways. It was not just his interest in art but her ability to keep up with him on a bike or a trail and enjoy it. Not just their mutual knowledge of the geography of the islands but their shared interest in the history, too. One thing was different: she was far braver than he was about swimming in the chilly waters around the islands and she made sure she pointed it out to him every time she jumped off the side of the boat.
Even in simple things like sharing meal prep when they ate on board, without working at it, they moved as a team in the small space of the boat. She cooked fisherman’s stew; he made arroz con pollo and taught her to make Cuban sandwiches. In the evenings when they were in towns where Marius knew restaurants he liked, they ate on shore and Cynthia always loved the places he’d picked out.
At night, they continued other explorations — in bed — where their activities had gone from great to glorious. Cynthia pretended to be surprised that the bedside table always seemed to have a fresh supply of condoms. But, finally, the night of the seventh day of the trip, when it had been rainy so they stayed on board and in bed all day, they ran out. They’d planned to spend the next day in Friday Harbor anyway, so Marius said he’d resupply while they
The tears that wouldn’t be held back any longer ran down her face. “Somehow I’ve turned the best two days of my life into the worst morning of my life and I didn’t mean to do that at all. I just wanted to … ”
“You just want to ward off what you’re afraid will happen because you think I’m like him. I don’t know who he was; I don’t care; it doesn’t matter. Whoever he is, I’m not like that. I would never hurt you that way.” He turned her face up. “You have to believe me, Cynthia. Please.” He gently kissed her forehead. “Please?”
She nestled into his embrace. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was trying to be realistic, to make you understand that I know I’m not the kind of woman you … ”
“Not the kind of woman I what? Want to be with? Could fall in love with? What?” He stroked her face with his fingers.
It wasn’t until they heard, “Oh, for God’s sake, kiss and make up so we can all go back to having breakfast,” that they realized they’d been playing the scene out before an audience.
Startled, Cynthia bolted out of his arms, but Marius grabbed her hand to keep her from running. He waved his free hand toward the other boats. “That doesn’t matter, Cynthia. This does. Do you trust me or not? I need to know,
querida
.”
“I trust you.” She shook her head. “But I’m afraid.”
Marius stood and put his hands on her shoulders. “Then trust me when I say this: I will never hurt you. You have my word.” And then he kissed her. Not the passionate kiss of the lover of the night before, but the tender kiss of someone who was as much friend as lover, as much protector as friend.
When she looked into his eyes after they parted, she saw concern; she saw determination; she saw affection. She saw what might be the future. Sighing she dropped her head onto his chest and he held her.
A few moments later, to the sound of applause and a couple of whistles, he led her below where he got to hear her say his name on the other side of the bed.
Chapter 10
Over the next week, Cynthia learned that she and Marius worked well together at more than sailing and sex. As they hiked, biked, and explored small towns; she found their interests and abilities meshing in surprising ways. It was not just his interest in art but her ability to keep up with him on a bike or a trail and enjoy it. Not just their mutual knowledge of the geography of the islands but their shared interest in the history, too. One thing was different: she was far braver than he was about swimming in the chilly waters around the islands and she made sure she pointed it out to him every time she jumped off the side of the boat.
Even in simple things like sharing meal prep when they ate on board, without working at it, they moved as a team in the small space of the boat. She cooked fisherman’s stew; he made arroz con pollo and taught her to make Cuban sandwiches. In the evenings when they were in towns where Marius knew restaurants he liked, they ate on shore and Cynthia always loved the places he’d picked out.
At night, they continued other explorations — in bed — where their activities had gone from great to glorious. Cynthia pretended to be surprised that the bedside table always seemed to have a fresh supply of condoms. But, finally, the night of the seventh day of the trip, when it had been rainy so they stayed on board and in bed all day, they ran out. They’d planned to spend the next day in Friday Harbor anyway, so Marius said he’d resupply while they
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