by Sarah Price
As the shores of Miami started to disappear, Alejandro reemerged. He had changed into a pair of shorts and was not wearing a shirt. Once again, Amanda was mesmerized by all of his tattoos and caught herself staring, wondering what he found so attractive about marking up his body.
It was close to ten in the morning, and he carried two drinks in his hand. He sat next to her at the table overlooking the back of the boat and handed one to her. When she raised an eyebrow, he made a face. “You’ll like,” he simply stated and kicked back to watch the wake of the ship.
She tasted it. It was tangy and sweet at the same time. Despite realizing that it had alcohol in it, she liked it. “What is this?”
“Cranberry and vodka,” he responded. When she frowned, he rolled his eyes playfully. “Don’t worry. It’s light. I’ll make certain you don’t tumble overboard, Princesa.” He stretched out his arms and smiled. “This is the life, no? So peaceful and relaxing.”
She wanted to ask about the boat, wanted to know about how often he used it and how many women he had brought to it. Immediately, she glanced away, ashamed at herself for feeling so jealous of his past.
One of the crewmen emerged from the glass doors, carrying a tray of food. He set it down on the table where they sat. Without a word, he turned to leave, but Alejandro said something in Spanish to him. Moments later, music was playing in the background.
The sun shone on her face and Amanda shut her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the rays as they caressed her skin. By now, she had acquired a nice tan after days spent outside, gardening and relaxing by the pool. She still put on her sunblock every morning but was less afraid of getting burned.
The wake from the boat mesmerized her. She found herself watching it, drawn to the gentle noise of the motor and the whitecaps of the wake. In all of her life, she had never imagined something as magnificent as this boat, cutting through the ocean as it headed away from land and toward this place Alejandro called the Bahamas.
They were camping. It was the annual vacation spot for Amanda and her family. Every year, they would arrange for someone to tend to the dairy for two days so that they could take the horse and buggy to Elias’s brother’s farm outside of Strasburg, where the family would gather to cook outside, play volleyball, catch up on the latest news, and relax.
Amanda was never certain that such outings were meant for her mother to relax. After all, Mamm still helped with the cooking of the meals and the washing of the dishes. But for Amanda and Anna, it was two days of being able to enjoy visiting with the cousins and not work.
Amanda particularly liked to spend her time sitting on a log by the fire at night. The flames would dance and crackle, casting a spell on her. In the background, she could hear her family singing a hymn, their voices lifting in unison as they sang about the love of Jesus for humankind. Amanda knew that she should join them, but the fire held a fascination for her.
In the flames, she could see the years of persecution that the Amish and Mennonites had faced. She knew from reading the Martyrs Mirror, that mammoth book that outlined over four hundred years of persecution, that many of the Anabaptists were tortured and burned at the stake. Amanda stared into the fire, trying to imagine such a fate.
Even more, she tried to imagine how she would react if pressed. Would she have had the strength to stand by her beliefs or would she have renounced her Anabaptist heritage in order to escape such a horrible death?
“Amanda!”
She looked up from where she sat and saw Anna waving toward her from where she stood with the others. “Coming,” she called back, and with one final glance at the fire, she quickly stood up and returned to join her sister and cousins.
The islands completely amazed her. They looked like floating pieces of land, surrounded by small, narrow lips of sand upon which the crystal-clear waters came to rest. When the boat finally anchored near a small island, Alejandro instructed her to go change into her bathing suit. It wasn’t a question but a command, and despite feeling awkward, she did as he said.
She had packed as he had told her, and once in the master suite, she found her bag placed on the floor near the desk. The bathing suit was a one-piece, brightly colored with pink, blue, and green, the colors against a background of black and with a gold clip in the front. When she slid it on, she glanced in the mirror and turned from side to side. Her skin was dark from the days spent by the pool. The bathing suit pattern made her look even thinner than she already was. Still, she didn’t like how it exposed the shape of her breasts and the curve of her hips. She reached into the bag for the matching cover-up and slipped her arms into it before exiting the room.
“¡Ay, qué linda!” he said when she rejoined him outside. He kissed his fingers and gave her a sultry look. “Lucinda is outdoing herself with your wardrobe, Princesa. You look . . .” His eyes rolled over her body and sparkled. “Magnificent!”
Knowing that compliments were hard for her to take, he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead before taking her hand and moving toward the back of the boat. She saw a small boat tied up to the stern, and Alejandro gestured toward it.
“Where did that come from?” she asked.
He pointed up above toward the top level. “It was there, Princesa. Next to the hot tub.”
“Hot tub?” She hadn’t explored the upper deck, but now that she craned her neck, she saw that there was another sitting area up there near where the captain drove the boat. “I didn’t see up there,” she said.
“Later, Amanda,” he said softly. There was something different about Alejandro. He wasn’t as jovial as usual, his expression more serious. She wondered if something had happened while she had changed. Had he received a phone call? An e-mail? “For now, let’s enjoy this moment in the boat. I want to take you swimming.” He held out his hand, indicating that she should take it to step down into the boat. Without question, she did as he wanted and took a seat in the back of the small boat.
She watched as he untied the dingy and stepped in before releasing it from the back of the yacht. He moved deftly in the boat, as if he was at home on the water, balancing himself against the rolling motion caused by the gentler waves. As he moved toward the small outboard engine, his muscles rippled and she had to look away.
With complete confidence, he steered the small boat away from the yacht and toward the island. He peered over her shoulder and the bow of the boat as he steered, maneuvering it through the water with expert precision. When they approached the island, he slowed the boat down and stopped the engine.
“Let me toss the anchor,” he said, but his mind seemed elsewhere.
After securing the boat, he turned to Amanda and forced a smile but continued to avert his eyes. “¿Listo, Princesa?”
She nodded, confused as to this rapid shift in his mood. She watched as he tossed his sunglasses into the boat and, without a word to her, dove off the side of the boat into the crystal-clear water. When he emerged, he bobbed in the water and shook his head, droplets splashing everywhere.
“¡Ay! It’s perfect! Come in, Amanda!”
Reluctantly, she took off her bathing suit cover and eased her way off the side of the boat and into the water. It covered her head, and for a moment, she felt as if she was drowning. She kicked with her legs, and as her body rose to the surface, she felt his arms reach for her waist. Gasping for air, she suddenly found herself in his arms.
“You all right, Princesa?”
She nodded. “Ja, sí.”
He laughed, the tension from before suddenly vanished. “You are a fish, no?”
“I think not,” she sputtered, relieved to have his arms supporting her.
Gently, he released her and swam farther away. “It’s gorgeous here,” he said. “The water is just right.”
She managed to tread water, watching him as he swam. She didn’t want to stray too far from the boat, knowing that she was not a stro
ng swimmer. Still, she couldn’t stop watching him, amazed at his movements in the water. Poetic, she thought, too aware that she was watching him with a racing beat in her heart.
He swam back to her and pulled her into his arms. Before she could say a word, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her with a fierceness that was completely unexpected. Salty water dripped onto her face and his arms crushed her with a force that caught her off guard. Their legs brushed against each other as they treaded water, but it was Alejandro who kept her afloat.
“Ay, Amanda,” he breathed into her neck, holding her tight. “What have you done to me?”
“Me?” she asked, breathless from his kiss.
“¡Sí, tú!” He stared into her eyes, holding her face between both of his hands. “I’m lost.”
“Lost?”
He shook his head as if pushing thoughts away. “Never mind,” he mumbled, slowly starting to pull her through the water back toward the boat. “This island is safe. We can go closer and eat lunch on the beach. No one patrols here, so you are fine without a passport.”
He helped her into the boat, then pulled himself into it. Water dripped from his head as he pulled up the anchor, then started the engine. He steered the boat toward the beach and pulled the engine up from the water as they neared it. Effortlessly, it glided into the sand, and in one easy motion, he jumped from the boat and pulled it ashore.
He reached inside for the basket with one hand and then for Amanda with his other hand. “Come, Princesa,” he said. “Let’s pretend we are stranded on an island, just the two of us, with no pressure from the rest of the world,” he said lightly, but there was an edge to his voice.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, concerned that something had happened.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Nothing is wrong,” he said. “In fact, everything is just perfect.” They stood on the edge of the beach, and he set the basket down in the sand. “Go swim, Princesa. Play in the water while I prepare our picnic. Remember,” he said, “this is a day just for you.”
She was standing in the master bedroom suite, having just changed from her wet bathing suit. Her hair was wet, and she used one of the plush towels from the bathroom to dry it. In her bag, she had packed a brush, so she took the time to brush her hair. It was long, so long that she had to brush it over her shoulder. In the typical Amish tradition, she had never cut her hair, so it hung beneath her waist, long and straight but thick.
Picking up the towel once again, she rubbed her hair so that it wasn’t so damp from the seawater. She could smell the salt, and the texture felt different. It would take a long time to dry; she knew that from experience. But she could pin it back into a bun, despite it being damp.
He cleared his throat, and she spun around, surprised to see him leaning against the door. She hadn’t heard him climb the stairs, nor had she known that he was watching. There was a strange look on his face, a blank expression and his eyes looked distant. Immediately, she backed away and put her hands on the sides of her head, her mouth forming a perfect O from surprise.
“Alejandro!” she gasped. “You can’t see me like this!”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching her like a cat spying a mouse. He was amused. “Why ever not?”
“My hair!”
At this, he tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Your hair?”
She tried to pull her hair back, to hide it from him. When he realized what she was doing, he stepped into the room and stopped her by taking ahold of her hands. She looked away, embarrassed to the point of tears. “Please stop,” she whispered.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair down, Amanda,” he said, his voice low and husky. “No, perhaps once. In the hospital, no? I think you look beautiful with your hair down.”
She shook her head, wishing he would just turn and leave. “You don’t understand,” she managed to say.
“Then explain, sí?”
A tear fell from her eyes as she turned to look at him. “Only my husband should ever see me with my hair down,” she whispered.
At first, he didn’t respond. He reached up and wiped away the tear, studying her face. His eyes flickered back and forth as he stared at her eyes, her nose, her lips, then back to her eyes. Something shifted in his expression, and the tension from earlier suddenly vanished as he took a deep breath and smiled.
“What if he just did, Amanda?”
His words were lost on her but only for a moment. She frowned and blinked twice, trying to understand what he had just said. She didn’t want to presume that she understood, and she wasn’t even certain if what she heard was what was said. “I . . . I don’t . . .”
He placed a finger against his lips. “Shh,” he whispered. “Listen to me, Amanda.” He removed his finger and, gently, bent down to kiss her lips, lightly and with control. “I cannot imagine my life without you. When you are away from me, you are all that I can think about. Yesterday, when I was in the booth recording . . . it was terrible. I couldn’t concentrate, could barely sing. I was distracted by thoughts of you.” He ran his hands down her shoulders and caressed her arm. “When you are near me, I just want to disappear with you, to be alone with you and to hold you. Without you, I am not complete; I am lost and have no idea who I am.”
Her heart began to pound. What was he saying?
“I want to be with you, for always. I want to make love to you, to sleep next to you, to wake beside you,” he purred. “I want to be a better man because of you. You worried once about how much you would change after leaving the Amish, and I told you that, sí, you would change, but you would live.” He smiled and stared into her eyes. “But you have also changed me and shown me what living is all about. And I don’t want to live one more minute without you by my side.”
“By your side?” she repeated softly.
He leveled his gaze at her, tilting his head slightly as he paused, taking a deep breath before he nodded his head, just slightly, and added, “By my side, sí, but also as my wife.”
Wife? The word rang in her head. Wife was a big word. Wife meant forever. Wife meant no other woman. Wife meant children and a future. Wife also meant that she could never return to the Amish or that way of life. She would forever be a part of this new world, one that she had barely tasted for not quite three weeks. Could this truly be happening?
“I . . . I don’t know what to say,” she replied hesitantly.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. “Tell me that you love me as much as I love you,” he said. “Surely you know that I do, sí? That I am so in love with you that I can barely see straight . . . that I can barely breathe unless I know you are nearby or waiting for me.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
He smiled at her. “Is that all you can say? ‘Oh’? I have just proposed to you, Amanda. I want to marry you.”
Images of the farm flashed before her eyes. The gentle peace of living among her family and church members. The sounds of the horses pulling buggies down the road. The laughter of children playing outside after church service. The sight and smell of freshly laundered clothing hanging to dry on lines that stretched from the corner of the porch up to the edge of the barn. With one word, she realized, it would be gone forever.
But as she refocused on Alejandro’s blue eyes, staring at her, she knew that she had no choice. There was never any doubt that she loved him and that she would have to decide the future of her life. The two different worlds could certainly not coexist, that was for certain. Or could love make it work? Was that enough?
“Yes,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes, I will marry you, Alejandro.”
To her surprise, he let out a loud whoop and lifted her into his arms, spinning her around. He was relieved, and with a touch of astonishment, she realized that he had actually feared that she might turn
him down, say no to his proposal. And as he laughed, she felt tears fall from her eyes, tears that blended both joy and apprehension, and she laughed with him.
Chapter Eighteen
“Are you out of your mind?”
Alejandro frowned at his manager as they faced off in the recording studio. He hadn’t expected such a reaction from Mike. “I believe such news is usually met with the word ‘Congratulations,’ no?”
Mike shook his head, rubbing his forehead as if he had a sudden headache. “My God, Alex,” he mumbled. “Is she really worth throwing it all away for?”
“¿Por qué?” Alejandro demanded angrily. He had hoped for support and understanding, not such a negative reaction. Not from his manager. “Why is it ‘throwing it all away’?”
In a swift movement, Mike leaned forward and swiped his hands at the newspapers that he had brought with him and laid on the table. Papers went flying. “That’s why! That, my friend, is why!”
Alejandro glared at his manager. “The fans?”
“Yes!” Mike roared, his voice loud and fierce. “Yes, the fans! They don’t want a married Viper! They don’t want to see Viper settle down!”
“They adore Amanda,” Alejandro objected. He picked up one of the papers and pointed to the photo. It was from the previous day when they had returned in the evening from the day at sea. Photographers had been camping out at the marina, waiting for their return. Alejandro had given the owners permission to let the paparazzi wait rather than chase them away. The photo was of Alejandro helping Amanda off the boat, his hand clutching hers and a smile on both of their faces.
“They adore her today,” Mike said, his voice sounding exasperated. “Today while she is perceived to be your little pet, your flavor of the month with such an air of innocence. But you wait and see what happens if you marry her. They will turn on her, and they will turn, my friend, on you!” He said the last part while pointing a stiff finger at Alejandro.