Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1)

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Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1) Page 11

by Lewis Hastings


  The day was spent on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. She found herself thinking that there were worst places to be in the world – and she’d been to a few.

  She slipped off her sarong to reveal a simple, elegant, dark blue swimsuit, cut to fit her in all the right places.

  Lying on her front, on the blanket that he’d thoughtfully put in the bag, she sighed deeply.

  “It’s so lovely here, Jack, the colours, the sounds, the emptiness is so, how you say? Yes, you say it is super!” She mocked his Englishness which earned her the instant punishment of a very chilled bottle between her shoulder blades causing her to yelp like a new-born puppy.

  She rolled over to greet his kiss, her tongue quickly savouring the freshness of the wine upon his own lips.

  “Last one in is girl!” she announced, quickly up and running to the sea.

  “You are so on, girlfriend!” he replied as he sprinted past her, diving head-on into the surf. It was the first time he’d done so since she arrived on the scene; he’d missed it, but accepted that he’d been rather busy. He once more found himself thinking that the beach would be there when he was ready, but she could be gone soon.

  For a man of such distinction and experience he suddenly felt like a love-sick teenager at the thought of her leaving, to the point of suggesting that if she didn’t return, he would go to Bulgaria to find her. He chose to leave that conversation for another time, for she was clearly enjoying herself and dragging her down to his level wouldn’t be wise on such a fine-looking day.

  They remained on the beach until the sun started to nestle onto the horizon.

  “It’s so beautiful, Jack. What are those islands called? Can we go there tomorrow, you know, imagine that we are shipwrecked? We could pretend that we didn’t know each other and make love all day!”

  “A bit like we have been doing on the mainland then Elena!” he replied with a chuckle. “Is that what shipwrecked people do in Bulgaria?”

  “Hey we have beautiful sea and beaches in my country too Jack Cade. One is called Sunny Beach, the other one Gold Sands, they are on Black Sea. I used to go to Burgas as a little girl, we had such good time. I will take you one day.”

  He put himself there for a moment; all too stereotypically, he imagined a rundown sea front with faded colours and grey, miserable people. His mental picture was based not upon imagery from the internet or hearsay but first-hand knowledge.

  “Is it as bad as I imagine?” knowing instantly he shouldn’t have asked out loud.

  “On behalf of Bulgarian people I am insulted by you Mr Cade and will only forgive you if you kiss me again, now, on this beach.”

  How could he refuse?

  Twenty minutes later and still intoxicated on the moment, she returned the conversation to the island.

  “OK, so fine, we don’t go then…but I could wear coconut bikini…”

  “You could, or we could wonder around naked all the time and I could catch fish and feed them to you. There are no coconuts over there on those islands. You need to head north or east for those; the main island by the way is called Motukorure Island.”

  “It is so special, what does it mean?”

  He paused for effect. “It means the island of the beautiful redheaded maiden…”

  “That is so lovely. A beautiful redhead, like me no? Take me there tomorrow, Jack?” She had completely missed his playful embellishment.

  “Can you swim that far?”

  “No, but Big Stan has a boat in the harbour, he told me, he say ‘Elena my love I take you to the island and we make love for hours’…”

  “I bet he did. He can lend me his boat. I’ll take you tomorrow.”

  And he did.

  The next morning they boarded Black Marlin and slipped out of the busy harbour. Giving a wave to the Harbour Master on his port Cade waited a few minutes to exit fully the river mouth and then accelerated, the four stroke Hi Power Yamaha VF200 engine dug deep into the water and soon the pale, crystal clear water to their stern turned a vibrant, oxygenated white.

  It didn’t take too long to clear the harbour and head towards open sea. Within ten minutes, they approached their initial goal.

  “So there you have it, Motukorure Island, as you can see we can’t land, it’s too rugged, but I happen to know an island where we can; it’s called Ohinau Island. Do you want to go?”

  She did and confirmed her intentions by turning away from him and slipping one strap of her swimming costume onto the top of her arm.

  “My God, you are incorrigible woman!”

  “Incorri-what?”

  “…rigible…it means persistent…”

  “Per-what?”

  “Sistent…it means…”

  “I know, Jack, I have English major – I know what persistent mean! I was teasing you and you love my tease, no?”

  “I do, I love your tease very much Miss Dimitrova, now for God’s sake cover yourself up or you’ll have the bloody coastguard after us.”

  “No coastguard in New Zealand, Jack, I checked.” She grinned like an errant schoolgirl and flicked her immaculately preened eyebrows skywards.

  He smiled as he once more got the boat up to speed and headed for Ohinau. The Marlin made good time as Elena leant out of the starboard side and allowed the pounding surf to throw wildly effervescent splashes of water onto her sun-kissed face; soon they were anchored up and ready to swim the short distance to shore.

  Cade grabbed a dive bag – he’d thought ahead. Inside it contained the picnic he’d prepared, a blanket and a bottle of Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc. He knew she’d fall for its crisp tropical flavours, and the alcohol seemed to relax what was left of her inhibitions.

  She emerged from the surf onto the small and very private beach. He soon followed. The sun shone brilliantly – in fact it was incredibly hot and like any good Kiwi host he warned her of the intense damage that the sun could do.

  “Make sure you wear this constantly!” He pointed to a tube of sun cream that he was using to cover his face and upper body.

  He looked up to see that Elena was stood on the beach – in partial shade – but completely and beautifully naked.

  “Rub some into my body, Jack Cade – I don’t want to spoil my swimsuit.”

  “For the love of God girl, you’ll get us arrested!”

  “Oh Jack, who can see? If the Coastguard have big telescope let them enjoy it. Tell me you don’t like and I will…” She thought for a moment before continuing, clearly trying to come up with an appropriate analogy, “Close the shop!”

  The comparison didn’t quite work, but he knew what she meant and given what was on offer, he was more than willing to browse a little longer. He went to speak, then stopped.

  “What?”

  “I was going to ask if you accept American Express…but realised that particular conversation might head down a different path…and after all, I’m a gentleman.”

  She didn’t understand, but smiled nonetheless. There and then she had not a care in the world. She was with a man she found incredibly attractive, on a beach in the Pacific Ocean, naked with a picnic and not a spectator in sight. What more could she ask for apart from a corkscrew?

  “Come Jack, let us swim to the boat – we need a screw on boat.” She ran playfully across the sand and dived through a small wave. She quickly popped up on the other side and stood waist deep in clear water splashing herself provocatively.

  “Come on in, the water, is how you say? Fine?”

  The view wasn’t bad either. He went to run towards her, his dives were impressive so he intended to show off. Why not, after all it wasn’t everyday a man of his age got to swim with a mermaid was it?

  “Oh no Mr Cade, there are rules in the sea, you have to be naked too. Come on, take them off or I will swim away and go to Atlantis!”

  “They won’t have Oyster Bay sav in Atlantis!”

  She pulled her brilliant, sad face once more than mischievously looked up at him before starting to clap h
er hands rhythmically, “Off! Off! Off!”

  He laughed, “Where did you learn that?”

  “Oh come on Jack, I have been to strip bars too, firemen, policemen, doctors…now you can be…information security consultant man!”

  “In for a penny…” and with that he whipped off his shorts and ran straight to her, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her under the waves.

  He expected her to panic but instead found himself in deeper water; an expert swimmer, he looked around, his eyes fully open and soon focused on her face. It was clear that she was quite adept beneath the water too. Her beautiful hair swayed in time with the pull of the current as her arms and legs fought to stabilise her. A small shoal of silver fish darted by her, almost brushing against her equally exposed body, causing her to form the ‘OK’ signal with her right hand.

  She smiled. At that moment, she couldn’t have looked more striking.

  The water was cool, and it showed.

  With their senses narrowed to sight alone, they remained in the crystal-clear ocean, watching, studying and admiring each other as if players in an aquatic reverie.

  Moments later she had to surface, so with a kick of his feet he followed.

  Gasping for air she swam back towards the boat, reaching it she hung onto the stern, fighting against the gentle pull of the current. Cade climbed aboard and as he did so she slapped his backside, so hard that it instantly left a vivid handprint on his left cheek.

  “I, young lady, have a very long memory!”

  “So I see Mr Cade, the water is not so cold today!”

  He shook his head, amazed at how, despite her linguistic challenges, she managed to be ever-so-slightly smutty whilst being incredibly sultry too.

  A quick search of the Marlin’s many cupboards located a corkscrew. He walked to the stern and clutching onto it dived back into the ocean.

  “Last one there makes love to the other!”

  A race was once more the order of the day. A race, as it happened, that neither minded losing.

  It was quickly apparent that she could swim, and without the resistance of a costume she was probably even swifter than normal. He deliberately slowed, sank beneath the waves and watched her graceful shape being propelled through the cool, clear cerulean water.

  Luck was suddenly his favourite four letter word.

  She got to the beach first and allowed the gentle surf to wash her onto the sand. He joined her and lay next to her. They remained in the surf for a while, staring up at the sky and joining together via just their little fingers.

  She turned to him and placed a perfectly weighted kiss onto his damp lips; he reciprocated and within moments they were making love among the waves. It was stereotypical of so many movie scenes and yet so incredibly intense too. The waves did their best to encourage a natural sense of rhythm.

  About a mile offshore other boats went about their business, heading to the best fishing spots, apparently oblivious to the activities on the remote island.

  They lay there on that silica bay, panting, covered in a fine film of perspiration, and both began to laugh. Being the eternal gent, he covered her in a towel, gently drying her and reapplying sun tan lotion. As he did so, he asked a rhetorical question.

  “Elena, are we the luckiest people alive?”

  “Yes,” was all she could say.

  “Oh, and another thing, is it just me or does sand really damage the knees and elbows?”

  The sun was dipping below the horizon – all too quickly for Cade’s liking. He knew he had to head back, despite being proficient behind the wheel the Marlin was a big boat and the last thing he wanted to do was run her aground.

  “Come on you, let’s go, we need to swim back to the Marlin before it starts to get dark.”

  Back on board, he started the engine and prepared to pull away from their ocean hideaway. It was clear she was disappointed that they couldn’t spend the night there.

  “We don’t have enough food, and you would soon get cold, I’m just caring for you.”

  “I know, but we could light fire and eat each other!”

  Despite understanding what she meant, the idea of being sacrificed to a naked, intoxicated, flame-haired cannibal did have a certain appeal.

  They re-entered the harbour, Cade slowed the boat down to a walking pace and navigated to the marina on his starboard. Slowly they pulled up alongside the wooden boardwalk and towards berth 25.

  With good fortune the skipper of the local pleasure boat Coromandel II managed to grab a line and skilfully tied her off, allowing Cade to steer her into the berth and shut down the engines.

  “Evening, Jack. Had a good day?”

  “Absolutely, Ron, beautiful weather.”

  “Catch much?”

  “A beauty; metre and a half long and she put up one hell of a fight, I played her for about an hour but I eventually got the better of her and managed to get her onto the beach.”

  “Nice, I’m sure we’ll get to see the pictures one day. Have a great evening mate, catch you tomorrow. And Jack…”

  “Yes, Ron.”

  “Make sure your tackle hasn’t been damaged.”

  And with that Ron Wilson gathered up his belongings, shuffled along the wooden decking and disappeared into the dusk. He headed home with a broad smile on his weather-beaten face.

  Dimitrova appeared at the stern, “Jack Cade, you are so naughty man, pretending I was big fish!”

  She jumped down from the Marlin and into his arms. Her face was sticky with salt, her skin hot and slightly flushed from being exposed to the fierce New Zealand sun. He held her in his arms for a moment.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me a sense of hope; for some amazing fun-filled days and above all Elena for making me the envy of this wonderful little seaside town.”

  She laughed, jumped up, putting her legs around his waist and whispered into his ear.

  “Take me to see Big Stan; I have worked up appetite for his French fries, then after he has watched me eat every single one, slowly dipping each into his hot sauce you can take me home for a fun-filled night.”

  He loved her endless energy and how even her most conventional sentences became lines from an adult movie. It was her incredible innocence that he adored, it all made the thought of her leaving the next day so much harder to contend with.

  Chapter Five

  She leant on the granite work surface and smiled at him, “Jack, I have to go to Auckland today. You come with me or I go alone?”

  He paused, trying to think how to compose his words. Monday had come around all too quickly.

  “Erm, I…”

  “It’s OK, I understand.”

  “No, no, it’s not that I don’t want to, I have a job to do for JD – it’s what we discussed the other night, it won’t take too long but I have to start today. I’ve got to go to Tauranga – it’s about an hour south from here. I’ll be there a few hours. I should be back before you, when you return, why don’t we go to the Motu Kitchen? It could be our five-day anniversary!”

  She laughed, agreed, and said she understood. She took a mouthful of the hot coffee and wiggled off across the lounge floor, her towel deliberately beginning to fall as she got to the bedroom door.

  “Oh, Jack!” she called, “this is your early gift for tonight!”

  With the skill of a fan dancer in a burlesque nightclub, she dropped the towel and allowed glimpses of her naked body to be revealed as he stood impotently in the kitchen trying to think of mundane household chores to complete.

  He managed to resist the thought of her for a few minutes and then once more gave in. She had cast a spell on him that he was literally powerless to evade.

  By the time he reached the bedroom, she was dressed. A dark blue summer number, strapless but very tasteful, it really enhanced the colour of her hair, which for the first time he noted she had put into a ponytail. Matching blue shoes completed her outfit and did a sterling
job of accentuating her shapely legs. ‘Christ even her legs are lovely’ he found himself thinking as she playfully brushed by him heading to the main door.

  “No, it’s OK Jack Cade, you don’t want me then fine, I go to Auckland where lots of men find me attractive!”

  “Fine, go, see if I care!” He offered as a retort, a useless one, but he had to offer something in what appeared to be a developing early morning fantasy role play.

  “OK, fine, I will!” And with that she strutted outside, the top of those legs doing their level-best to shift the blue cotton dress from side to side in a hypnotic fashion.

  Before she had even got to the driver’s door he had caught up with her, a lap dog.

  “I’ll miss you; drive safely, please, not like the other night!”

  “Me too, Jack. I go into town and get some fuel first, someone has used it all, perhaps you meet me on the main road – we have race at last? My Black Panther against old lady hairdresser’s car!” she mocked him earning a short, sharp slap across her shapely pert arse.

  “I’ll be twenty minutes, I’ll see you alongside the airfield, bring your driving gloves!”

  She lowered herself into the Porsche, the material of her dress riding up to reveal a glimpse of her thigh. His left eyebrow rose playfully.

  She turned the key and selected reverse, slowly backing the car onto the road. With drive engaged she waved, blew a theatrical kiss and accelerated out of sight.

  It was an enormous cliché, but he was missing her already.

  As he walked back to the house, he found himself thinking of the old days. The meetings with JD always did that, allowing the past to slip insidiously back under the radar.

  However, he wasn’t consumed by the darker thoughts of his life and career but considering how his old mates would now look upon his life and particularly the latest additions with intense jealousy.

  It made him smile for the second time that morning.

  He changed, cleared a few things away; he was clean but far from obsessive-compulsive – unlike his old team mate O’Shea – now she took OCD to an altogether different level. Rampant in the bedroom, fanatical about her work and fixated on cleanliness, it wasn’t unheard of for her to shower four times a day, often alone.

 

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