Destination Romance

by Barbara McMahon

They ate in silence, but Lexy didn't care. She was studying the island from the boat, excited with the thought of swimming the short distance to it this afternoon. She knew Robin had been all over it, but she could pretend she was its discoverer, the first to touch its white sands, to see its mysterious interior.

  'Miss Kent.' Dominic's stern voice interrupted her fantasy. She brought herself back and looked at him. 'Two rules here, you don't swim alone and you tell me where you are heading if you go to the island.'

  She frowned. 'I assure you, Mr. Frazer, I can handle myself in the water.'

  'Even the most expert swimmer can run into trouble. If I don't have your word,' here he stopped and gave her a derisive look, 'your promise, such as it is, that you'll follow the rules, I'll lock you in the cabin when I'm working.'

  She felt the familiar rage welling up in her, the hatred for the position she was in. She started to speak out, but he was right, darn him, swimmers should be in pairs, it was a common sense safety rule.

  'All right,' she conceded with poor grace. 'Can we swim today?'

  'Sure, soon as lunch settles. There's a dinghy ashore, we'll swim in and check it out, bring it to the ship if it's still seaworthy. You can swim back while I row. In fact you can swim any time you want as long as you let me know. If I'm not ready to swim, I'll keep an eye out for you from the boat.'

  She smiled shyly at this, only to be frozen by his cold look. Changing the subject, she asked about the dinghy.

  'We brought it from my aunt's. Her place is about a day's sail from here. It's handy if you want to go for a walk, so that you can reach the beach without getting wet. We usually leave it here between visits; it keeps and saves the bother of hauling it behind us all the time. Do you row?'

  'Yes.' She was still smarting under his snub. She would remember her place from now on and not give him any cause to suspect her of 'using her wiles' on him. She left him and went to change into her bikini.

  She was at the rail, ready to dive in, when he spoke to her next. 'Anxious to swim, Miss Kent?'

  She said, in exasperation, 'Sometimes you call me Lexy, other times Miss Kent, can't you be consistent? What's wrong with Lexy? Can't we ever be friends again?'

  He looked at her for a long minute. 'I doubt we'll ever be friends, Lexy, but we very well may be lovers before the book is written. So Lexy it is,' he smiled sardonically, watching the faint color rise in her face.

  Shaking her head, she refuted his assertion that they might become lovers. Against her will she imagined how it would be to lie next to his long length, feel his hands on her, his mouth teaching her, touching her, giving her pleasure. She shivered against the picture, turning away whispering frantically, 'No, no!' denying the image even to herself. Not for anything would she let him know how much she would have liked it, had circumstances been different.

  'Can we swim now?' she asked, her back to him. Starting, she felt his fingers trace down her spine, resting on her lower back, just at her bikini line. She wanted to move away from his disturbing touch, but her legs wouldn't obey her brain. She trembled. If he didn't move, didn't stop–

  'You go in, I'll give you a head start and race you to shore,' he said lazily.

  Diving, she took off like the devil himself was after her. Lexy was a strong, accomplished swimmer, her work with Miles Jackson had seen to that. She swam hard, straight for the closest stretch of beach, straining to reach the land, conscious only of her overwhelming desire to put as much distance between herself and Dominic as she could. She could hear him coming, but wasted no time trying to locate him in the water, all her energies focused on reaching the shore, reaching it first, as if she had to in order to prove something.

  Her feet touched land. She scrambled up on shore, turning to land on the warm sand, Dominic was still in the water.

  'I won,' she cried gleefully. 'Ha, ha, Dominic, I won!'

  He reached the white beach, not pounded by the surf, but only caressed by the gentle water lapping the sand much like a small lake. He strode out of the water, rivulets streaming from his hair and shoulders, looking Lexy over from head to toe.

  'Very pretty, my dear,' he jeered, 'but the lovely heroine sprawled so enticingly on the beach awaiting the virile hero is just a little too contrived, don't you think? I will choose the time and place to make love to you,' he stated arrogantly, ignoring her gasp of outrage. How dare he think such a thing about her!

  'Come on, let's check the dinghy,' he turned and walked down the beach.

  'I won't need the convent,' she muttered darkly as she rose to her feet and followed him down the beach, glaring at his frame. 'I'll murder him first and jail will be my destination. How dare he think I was enticing him. Blast his ego!'

  Far above the high-tide line, nestled into the brush, they found the dinghy, overturned to keep the water from settling in. Dominic turned it over on its keel.

  'Grab the bow and push,' he said taking a firm grip on the flat aft section, nearer the sea, and pulling. Lexy complied and slowly the little wooden dinghy moved to the sea. Afloat it took on a little water, but Dominic dismissed the idea of a leak.

  'It'll be fine once the planks swell again. I'll hold it here, go check the bushes for the oars.'

  Finding them with no problem, Lexy dragged them to the water's edge.

  'Here,' she shot them out to him, one at a time. 'I'm going to swim some more.'

  'Okay. I dropped the ladder over the stern before I came. Come aboard when you're tired.' He stepped into the dinghy and started rowing easily back to the Marybeth.

  Lexy dived into the clear, blue waters aware of the soft feel of it against her warm skin. The top six inches or so were very warm, and when she floated it was like a bath. Jack-knifing down, she could feel the water grow cooler as she went deeper—it was so refreshing and pleasant. She opened her eyes to the coral bottom and exotic tropical fish. The salt water stung a little, but it was a wonderland, worth the irritation. Tomorrow she would bring the face mask to see more clearly.

  Generally the lagoon averaged only twenty feet in depth, falling off here and there into deeper troughs. Lexy swam until she was tired, then floated on the surface, reluctant to leave the watery playground. Lazily she circled the boat, finding the ladder extended on the flat stern board. Slowly she climbed it.

  Dominic was typing when she pulled herself on deck. She padded forward and lay on the cabin roof, drying in the late afternoon sun. Lying on the warm roof she wondered again what his book was about this time, wondered where she would be when she read it. Would it always bring back memories of these days on the Marybeth? Or would she one day, in the far future, forget?

  Dominic ate dinner at his typewriter while Lexy ate topside. Back to square one, she thought as she watched the island. Maybe tomorrow she would go exploring, do it in the morning when it was cooler, swim in the afternoon.

  She had one of the cakes for dessert, a luscious cream-filled éclair. Dominic had declined, shuffling through his papers, checking on a fact. Lexy watched him thoughtfully. Perhaps he wasn't ignoring her so much as a punishment for her past sins, but was just fully engrossed in his creative work. Maybe.

  'I'm going to bed,' she announced, standing by the table. 'Do you need anything from the forward cabin?'

  He looked up, glanced out of the window. It was still light outside.

  'So early?'

  'I'm going to read first. Do you need bedding or something?'

  'Yes, get me some from the port bin. My pillow too. Just put the stuff on the sofa. I'll make up the bed when I'm ready,' he turned back to his laptop.

  Lexy awoke in the night, tearing pains in her abdomen. She was bathed in sweat, sharp pains stabbing again and again. She groaned, drawing her knees up, trying to ease the racking agony. Oh, the pain came again and again almost in a wave. Suddenly she felt sick. She would have to run to the head, please let her be in time. Staggering from her bunk she grabbed for the door. Ohhh, doubled over against the agony in her stomach, she reached the small b
athroom alongside the galley—reached it just in time.

  She was sick again and again. Vomiting up her supper, heaving long after her stomach was empty, trying to escape the stabbing in her stomach. She was wet with sweat.

  'Oh, God,' she thought, 'am I dying?' It was so awful, so painful. Finally the vomiting eased. Lexy took a deep breath. Another. She was still crouched on the floor of the head, her hands pressing hard against her stomach, trying vainly to ease the pain. Oh, she couldn't stand it any longer. She moaned softly against another wave. How would she get back to bed?

  'Lexy?' Dominic's voice came from the dark. In another minute the cabin lights were flicked on and he was bending over her, lifting her and carrying her to the double bed the sofa had made.

  'Lexy, what's wrong?' He laid her down gently.

  'Oh, the pain, I'm in such pain,' she gritted out, her teeth clenched, her knees drawn up against her chest, her hands holding her stomach convulsively. 'Oh, Dominic, please help me, please.'

  'Where, Lexy? Where do you hurt?' His eyes concerned, searching for a wound or injury.

  'My stomach,' she groaned, rocking herself back and forth on the bed. Would nothing ease the cramps? She was so hot, so hot! What was wrong with her?

  Dominic got a damp rag from the bathroom and wiped her face gently, wiped her neck. He slipped into the bed, turning her away from him and pulling her curved back against his chest, his hands encircling her, splaying out against her stomach, kneading it softly, trying to ease her suffering.

  'It's not appendicitis, is it?' he asked in her ear, cradling her in his arms, his warm hands helping a little to ease the pain.

  Shaking her head she answered gasping, 'No . . . had them out when I was sixteen . . . oh, please help me, please, I hurt so much!' She doubled over as a fresh wave hit her, sweat breaking out again.

  'Must be something you ate.'

  'I don't know.' She was panting now. 'You ate what I did.' She lay very still for a few minutes, the pain just tolerable. She lay immobile, afraid to move, to breath, lest it bring on the pain again.

  Dominic's hands were caressing, pushing gently against her abdomen, kneading the softness of her belly, feeling her relax.

  'Is this a clever way of getting into my bed?' he asked, his mouth inches away from her ear, his tone whimsical.

  'I knew . . . you wouldn't be able to . . . resist me like this,' she retorted, taking shallow breaths, her eyes wide, awaiting the returning pain. She only felt discomfort now, an aching relief from the sharp shafts of a few minutes ago. Slowly she tried breathing again.

  Even as he chuckled at her sally, the sharp pain came again. She cried out, tensing herself against its onslaught. Unable to stifle the moan in her throat.

  'Did you eat one of those blasted cream cakes—' he asked suddenly, feeling her nod in reply. 'Well, of all the foolish things. It's probably gone bad by now. The cooler doesn't keep things as cold as a refrigerator. The box was left out most of the day we sailed, too. We, er, had other things to think of.'

  'I have . . . such a weakness for ... cream cake,' she gasped out against the suffering. 'Oh, Dominic, can't you do something. . . anything... it hurts so much.' She was panting again, trying to hold off from the harsh reality, all her mind focused on the stabbing torment within her.

  'I don't have anything for food poisoning, Lexy. It'll pass, in only a little while, it'll pass.' His strong arms molded her to him, his hands trying to ease her hurt.

  'How long?' she panted.

  'A couple of hours, I don't know.'

  'I can't stand it. Dominic, don't you have something I could take, something that might help? '

  'I'll fix you some tea.' He carefully disentangled himself and eased off the bunk.

  'No, I feel sick again, I couldn't drink it.'

  He disappeared into the head for a minute, returning with a small pill in his hand. He got a small glass of water from the galley and came back to the bed.

  'Try the pill, put it in your mouth and I'll help you sip the water. Just a little. Try to keep it down. It'll help.'

  She took the pill, tried to raise up for the water, but needed Dominic's arm under her shoulders to hold her up enough so that the water didn't spill. She took the glass and tried a small sip, then a tremulous smile came to her drawn face, and her tormented eyes met his.

  'Not the fancy courtesan tonight,' she whispered, trying for humor.

  'No,' he smiled gently, 'but don't lose heart, my darling tramp, there's always tomorrow.' Dominic flicked out the light and climbed back into the bed, holding her again, his hands rubbing her gently, comfortingly. She tensed again.

  'It's not working,' she whispered.

  'Shhh, it's a sleeping pill. If it will knock you out, the pain will be gone by morning. Try to relax.'

  She felt the pain again, but not as sharp, her head swimming a little. Incredibly, the pill worked. In only a little while Lexy was asleep, curled in a ball, held safe and firm in the curve of Dominic's arm.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The sun danced across her eyes, was gone, came again, was gone. Frowning, she moved her head from its reach, and slowly opened her eyes. The rapid clicking of the keyboard penetrated her consciousness and she awoke fully. Looking around, she saw she was still lying on Dominic's bed, the sheet a tangled mess. The gentle rocking of the Marybeth caused the sun to shift its light from the porthole, now on her cheek, now near her head.

  Cautiously she straightened her legs, there was no pain. There was a small ache in her stomach, but the awful agonizing pain was gone. She rolled over, raising her head slightly. She could just see the top of Dominic's head bent over his laptop. The steady clicking evidence that he was in full spate and in a world of his own.

  Slowly she sat up. Not too bad, a little weak, but that was to be expected. She stood up, the movement catching Dominic's eye.

  'How do you feel?' he asked.

  'All right.'

  'Good.' He watched her for a moment, then nodded and resumed typing, oblivious again to-her presence.

  Lexy made her way forward, and dressed in the day before's shirt and jeans. She sat for a moment on the bunk, gathering strength. She’d feel better after breakfast, but at that thought her stomach turned over. She wrinkled her nose. Food sounded awful. Shakily, she made her way to the galley; Dominic would want to eat, maybe she would feel better soon.

  He looked up, seeing the pale face, over-large eyes, and shaky stance of the slight figure. She looked drawn and haggard.

  'Just fix tea and crackers,' he said. 'That's all you'll be able to keep down right now.'

  'But your breakfast.'

  'I ate a while ago.'

  She nodded, glad for the reprieve.

  'Thank you for . . . for your help last night,' she said watching the teakettle heat.

  'No problem. I tossed out the remaining cakes,' he added, a smile threatening.

  Lexy gave a wan smile at this, but said nothing. She took her meager breakfast topside, sitting on the cabin roof and looking towards the island. As she drank the strong tea and nibbled on the crackers, she wondered if she would have the strength that afternoon to row to the island. Dominic said there was a fresh-water pond inland. If she could get to it, she could wash her clothes. She only had two sleep shirts and had put the second one on clean last night. She had several other things to wash out, too.

  She would try later, but right now it was heavenly just to sit in the sun, its warmth soothing, the air soporific, only the steady drone of the keyboard disturbing the silence. Lexy lay back, and drifted off to sleep.

  She felt better after lunch, sticking to the diet Dominic had recommended, but eating it more confidently.

  Now was the time to try the island, she decided. Dominic was engrossed with his work, and she didn't want to interrupt, but conscious of her promise, knew she had to. She gathered her clothes and some soap, bundling them together.

  'Dominic?'

  'Ummm?' He did not look up.

  'I
'm going ashore, where is the pond?'

  'Ummm?' He finished typing his line.

  'Dominic!'

  'What?' He focused on her, as if coming from a distance.

  'I want to find the pond on the island, which direction?'

  'Left, towards the hill, at the bottom of it. There's a path.' He turned back to his book, forgetting her.

  She rolled her eyes and, stopping to gather up his sheets, went out. Lexy had no trouble getting the dinghy ashore, nor in finding the pond. There was a well-defined trail; obviously Robin had traveled often to the fresh water.

  After washing her clothes and the sheets in the clear cold water, she wondered if they would dry better spread on the bushes around the pond, or on the railings of the boat. She opted for the boat, having nothing to do on the island while they dried. On the ship she could get a book, take another nap or maybe swim, though the latter didn't hold as much appeal as it had yesterday. She was still a little shaky, and it would be a while before she would splurge on cream cakes again.

  She gathered everything and made her way carefully down the path, enjoying the sights of the soaring palms, the fragrance of the frangipani, the color of the flowers blooming in profusion along the side of the path. She wondered if the seeds of these plants came on the wind, or if someone long ago had planted them to provide color in a perfect land.

  She reached the beach, her arms tired from the weight of the wet clothes and sheets, obviously she was not yet fully restored from her food poisoning. She watched the sand, looking for shells, perfect ones that others had overlooked. She smiled at her foolishness, what would she do with a shell if she found one? She’d had dozens, and all unusual specimens, when working with Miles, but she had left them all behind.

  Balancing the wash on her lap, she rowed to the ship.

  She giggled a little in anticipation at the expression on Dominic's face when he saw the laundry fluttering from the lines of the Marybeth. Two lacy bras, and several lacy panties in addition to her sleep shirts were waving in the afternoon breeze. Dominic's sheets she draped over the railing, trying to keep them from brushing on the deck. They were dripping wet, but Lexy hoped they would be dry by night.