by Ju Ephraime
In half an hour, they had arrived at a dinner club, where a long line of vehicles waited to be parked by the valet. Wolfe handed the keys to the valet and took Daphne’s hand as they walked into the restaurant. When the manager greeted them, he appeared to be on a first-name basis with Wolfe. He spoke to them in French, but Wolfe answered in English, introducing Daphne as a visitor to the island. As soon as they were seated, a waiter brought them complimentary drinks. Daphne tried hers and liked it. It was a mixture of local rum and fruit juices, with a hint of grenadine—similar to the rum punch she’d had before at Wolfe’s restaurant, Petits Pois, and again at his home earlier; this one tasted slightly different. Wolfe had accepted the complimentary drink, but it was not Wolfe’s drink of choice, so he went ahead and ordered his usual, Hennessy.
They had two drinks each while they waited for the first course, which was accra, though not, Daphne thought, as good as the ones at Petits Pois.
They sat in their booth, with soft music playing in the background, and chatted like old friends. She found that Wolfe and Foxx were the middle of six children; they had two sisters and two brothers. His older brother, Brian, and an older sister, Cecilia, were married with a family. Brian was the eldest, followed by Cecilia, then he and Foxx, and then Franchesca and Raymond.
Franchesca and Raymond were away at university. Franchesca was one year short of completing her doctorate and Raymond was just entering his third year as an undergrad. They were both going to school in Paris. His mother and father lived on Les Trois Islets, or Three Islands, on the southern end of Martinique. He promised to take her for a visit if her time on the island permitted. That reminded him how short six weeks really was. She had used up one week already.
The waiter came back with several small bowls.
“I thought you’d like to try some of the dishes before ordering,” Wolfe told her by way of explanation of the small bowls of food.
“Is this the Martiniquais version of tapas?” she asked.
“I guess so, if you want to look at it this way. I see it as samplers, same thing.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your pants in a bunch.”
“Oh, you think I’m getting my pants in a bunch, do you? I’ll take great pleasure in showing you just whose pants are in a bunch,” he said, giving her a suggestive look.
Daphne settled on a seafood dish of delicious stuffed crab, accompanied with eggplant, peppers, and pineapple. The hot spicy taste of the crabmeat along with the bland and sweet taste of the eggplant and pineapple was just wonderful. After such a large meal, she had no room for dessert, so a cup of cappuccino was all she had.
The club was designed with the dining area upstairs and the ballroom on the first level. She could hear the band tuning their instruments during dinner. She was sipping her cappuccino hoping Wolfe had forgotten about his offer to teach her to dance, but she was not so lucky.
“Are you ready to dance?”
“Yes, if you insist. Don’t take it personally if I’m not able to follow and embarrass you.”
“You will not embarrass me. Just relax in my arms, and I’ll take care of you, like always.”
“Well, since you put it that way, I’m ready.”
“Good!” He took her hand in his as they made their way down a beautiful spiral staircase, which opened up to a huge ballroom. The ballroom was arranged with seating around the perimeter, so that couples could dance and return to their tables throughout the evening. The light was softly muted, just enough to see the other couples in the dance area, although you could not identify anyone unless you were right next to him or her, and even then it was a bit difficult.
They sat for a while, enjoying the drink that was brought to them, and of course, Wolfe had his usual Hennessy. When she questioned him, he admitted to not liking to mix his drinks, and since he’d begun the evening with Hennessy, he would end it with the same. She was the exact opposite; she’d had three different drinks, and this one was a locally brewed beer. The alcohol had her floating on a cloud. She was waiting for the dance lesson Wolfe had promised her.
The couples on the dance floor appeared to be having a great time. Some were moving fast, and some were barely moving to the beat, as if they were standing still instead of dancing. She was wearing five-inch heels, which wouldn’t be very comfortable for fast dancing, but she was willing to try anything, once.
She and Wolfe watched the dancers on the floor for about thirty minutes. She was about to ask him about her promised lesson when the band struck up “Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh. Wolfe reached for her hand and led her onto the dance floor. She walked into his arms as if she belonged. Her five-inch heels brought her almost eye-to-eye level with him, her hips almost aligned with his.
He wrapped his arms around her. Then he began to move very, very slowly. It was the most incredible experience. It was almost as if they were standing still; she could feel every intimate part of him against her body. She followed his lead and just swayed a little when he swayed and stood still when he did. It was erotic. There was no other way to describe it. She could feel his erection clearly through their clothing, and the subtle movement of swaying and then rubbing was getting her aroused. She would have thought after the day they had spent together she would be too worn-out to think about sex so soon, but evidently, she’d unleashed her demon.
Without skipping a beat, the music changed tempo to a quick step quadrille. It was very difficult to follow, but Wolfe was an excellent dancer, and he led her effortlessly into the steps. She followed as he led, swinging, bowing, and twirling as the tempo of the music increased to a stomping movement. It was hilarious. But just as suddenly, the music changed again to a slow tune, which brought her into Wolfe’s arms, and she stayed barely moving against him as she’d seen the locals do. This sort of dancing was very sensual and put one instantly into heat, and she had no difficulty going back there. She actually welcomed it.
She appeared to be in a state of permanent arousal around Wolfe. All he had to do was touch her or look at her the way he did sometimes, and her body responded. It was as if he was the maestro and her body was the violin. He led; she followed. Right now, she was so wet it was unreal. She moved against him in slow, sensuous movements, her body gliding over his.
She told herself she had to break the connection. Otherwise, she would find herself begging him to relieve her of this need. But just as she pulled back to look at him, he claimed her mouth in a devastating kiss. She felt as if he was sucking her very soul through her mouth. The aftertaste of the Hennessy and the texture of his tongue, together with the heat spreading through her body, were too much for Daphne. She moaned into his mouth.
He broke off the kiss to whisper in her ear, his voice gruff with lust. “Ma chérie, tu veux quelque chose? My darling, do you want something? Dites-moi ce que tu veux; je vais te le donner. Tell me what you want; I’ll give it to you.”
Daphne was beyond speech. She needed to breathe. “Can we step outside for some air?”
“Certainement.” She knew he was affected because this was the first time he’d spoken to her in French without the English translation tagged on.
They stepped outside onto the verandah where several other couples were enjoying the night air. He put his arm around her waist and hugged her to his side. She remained by his side for a while, and then she moved away to the far end of the verandah. Standing next to the pillar, she leaned forward and placed her forehead against the coolness while she tried to understand what was happening between her and Wolfe; for the first time, she was beginning to feel a bit panicky.
Initially, she had thought she could use this experience to help her forget Michael, but this man had gotten under her skin and laid claim to her heart when she least expected it. She did not believe she would be able to walk away when her vacation came to an end. What was she to do? She was so deep in her thoughts she was unaware that he’d walked away and left her standing alone in the dark. When she turned around, he’d returned, ca
rrying two glasses. He handed her one, and she took a sip without asking what it was. It turned out to be the same Hennessy he was drinking.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked, handing him the glass. “I’d drink it if I hadn’t had anything else to drink tonight, but right now, I feel sort of emotional. Can we leave now?”
“Certainement.” He went to the host, who called down to the valet to get their vehicle.
They did not talk on the way to the vehicle. Daphne was still mulling over her predicament, trying to comprehend how she went from recovering from a broken heart to being in danger of having her heart smashed. This would make her experience with Michael look like a joke. She knew this one would destroy her.
Just then, her mind drifted back to the email she’d received from one of her business partners. He wanted to know when she was returning to work. Daphne knew the moment he questioned her return that something was up. This particular individual had been trying to buy her out ever since he became partner. Mulling over his email, and trying to find a way to get him to back off, without coming off as being rude, was a problem she would have to deal with when she got back to her hotel.
In his opinion, the shipping industry was not suited for a woman. Now, the fact that she’d up and left for such a long vacation without any prior warning made him feel he could dictate to her what she could and couldn’t do. She had been with the company since its inception, and she would be damned if she would allow the good old boy network to push her out.
As if sensing her mood, Wolfe placed his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. “What is the matter? Why the sad face? Did something upset you in the club?”
“No,” Daphne told him. “I’m just, just trying to settle a problem I had with work today.”
She knew he could tell she was being evasive, but he did not pursue the matter. She did not want to shut him out, but she needed some space in order to think clearly.
He left her to her own thoughts as he maneuvered through the narrow, unlit roads on this part of the island. When they pulled into her hotel parking lot, he came around to open her door, but Daphne was already standing outside of the car. She knew he was becoming worried because he questioned her again.
“Are you certain you are all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” Daphne replied, “but I have a bit of a headache. As soon as I get in, I’ll take an aspirin.”
“Do you want me to come up with you?”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll be okay in the morning.”
Wolfe was torn. A part of him wanted to insist she allow him to see her up to her room, and a part of him wanted to give her the space she clearly needed. In the end, the second part won out. He bade her goodnight, gave her a peck on the cheek, and watched her walk to the elevator. Then he went into the hotel lounge before hitting the road back to his empty home. He didn’t feel like company, so he took a seat in the back of the lounge. He was mystified by Daphne’s behavior. Her behavior was affecting his mood, but he had to do what she’d requested and back off. I can’t believe it’s been only a matter of days since I met her. It seems as if I’ve known her much longer.
N ine
Wolfe had called up to Daphne’s room to see if she was all right, but she didn’t answer the phone. He’d left her three messages and was about to call again before leaving when he looked up from nursing his third Hennessy and saw her standing at the entrance to the lounge, watching him. In his last message, he had asked her to join him in the lounge. He didn’t know if she would. Looking up and seeing her there brought home to him, forcibly, how happy he was that she’d come. He felt better instantaneously, as if someone had taken a heavy load off his back. He got up and walked over to her.
“Is your head better?” He pulled her forward for a quick peck on the lips.
“I’m better, thank you,” she replied formally.
Wolfe took her hand and guided her to the vacant chair next to his. “Daphne, you’ve got to tell me what’s troubling you because it’s beginning to trouble me too.”
She smiled. “How could my troubles trouble you? I told you it’s about my job.”
“I don’t believe you. How could something to do with your job cause such unhappiness?” Wolfe thought for a moment. “Are you leaving sooner than you anticipated?”
“No.”
Wolfe was not aware he was holding his breath until he felt the relief from releasing it. I’m in deep trouble. If the thought of her leaving early can cause me such anxiety, how will I handle her leaving permanently? He needed to find answers to these questions and a lot more before he continued on the path he was taking with Daphne. Maybe even before he took one more step on that path. Perhaps he should pull back right now. Yes, now, before his resolution failed.
He stood up abruptly. “Bonne nuite, chérie.” He kissed Daphne on the cheek and walked out of the lounge and the hotel.
Daphne was stunned. It was one thing to try to be strong and retreat into herself, but to have Wolfe walk out on her was a devastating blow to an already fragile spirit. She felt as if someone had taken her heart and was squeezing the life out of it. She couldn’t breathe properly. She sank back in the chair, breathing shallowly. The waiter walked over to her to inquire if she was all right. She could only nod; speech was beyond her. She thought the pain she had felt with Michael was bad, but this was one hundred times worse.
She began to cry, softly. When she felt the hand on her shoulder, she feared it was the waiter, checking up on her again. She tried to compose herself and raised her tear-stained face to tell him she was all right.
But it was Wolfe’s beloved face looking down at her. “Ma chérie, ma chérie, qu’as-tu donc? My darling, my darling, what ails you so? Tell me what’s troubling you. I need to know because it is hurting me too.”
Daphne cried harder. He handed her a handkerchief, and she blew her nose unromantically. She did not return it to him but placed in her purse. She knew her eyes were swollen and her nose red.
“What made you come back?” she asked. “When you left, I thought you were disgusted with me and had had enough.”
“I could never be disgusted with you, and having enough of you appears to be out of the question. I left because you seemed to want to be left alone. But I came back to ask you directly and to see if there was anything I could do to make you change your mind.”
“Would it matter to you if I did not want to see you again?” she asked and held her breath, waiting for his answer.
“It would matter terribly,” he said. “You are my heart.”
And he did not mean it lightly. He had found in Daphne everything he wanted in a mate. She was beautiful and kind, but more than anything, she had touched him in a place no other woman had touched him before...she had touched his heart.
He saw himself building a life with her easily, either here or in America, although he would much prefer if it were on the island. He did not want to leave the life he had made for himself here, and he was financially able to support a wife. Before he met Daphne, he’d never contemplated marriage. If he’d thought about it at all it was only in passing because he wanted children, and he did not want them out of wedlock. He had no intention of bringing a bunch of bastard children into the world. His one mistake had taught him that children needed both their parents together to be well-grounded, especially in their formative years. He did not want to start off having several children with different women and leaving them for another man to bring them up.
“Wolfe, I believe this thing that is developing between us is too powerful. I don’t want to get hurt, and neither do I want to hurt you. I’m just scared, that’s all.”
He smiled. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“I’m home.”
“I mean to my home, where I can wake up with you in my arms.”
“Don’t you think we should think about this?”
“What’s there to think about? You want to be with me, and I want to be with
you. I don’t see the need to do anything different. Do you?”
She stood up. “I’ll have to pack an overnight bag.”
“You don’t need anything. Just come as you are. I have prepared everything for your comfort. Anyway, you will not need any clothes, and if you do, I have that covered too.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Wolfe, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“How so?” he asked, reaching out to help her up. “I want nothing but to take care of your needs.”
“My needs? I know how much you enjoy taking care of my need. So let’s go take care of my needs, my darling,” she told him. “I’m sorry I was being disagreeable.”
“Come here,” he said, beckoning to her. “I’ll show you how much you mean to me.”
She walked into his outstretched arms, which he closed around her, before he claimed her mouth in a deep, searching kiss.
His kisses, no matter the intensity were like a drug. She never got tired of kissing him. He kissed her all over her face, from her forehead to her eyes, her nose, and then back to her mouth. She caught her breath at the exquisite agony of his ravaging mouth, the pluck of his teeth on her lip, and the wet swirl of his tongue as he soothed the sting. He kept kissing her until she was reduced to a state of trembling need.
Wolfe could not get enough of Daphne. He wondered if the fear of losing her had triggered this need in him. No, for he had felt it from their first meeting, before he’d even known her. He felt the need to reassure her that his feelings for her were real and that he was not out to hurt her.
But a part of his brain was telling him to slow down and examine his feelings carefully so he did not confuse lust with something deeper. Also, he had to give Daphne an opportunity to see him without the sexual haze that always seemed to engulf them when they were together. They had never really had the time to get to know each other outside of the bedroom. That might not seem right to Daphne.