Chapter 14

Sasha Bamwele sat in her unfinished spa and cried. She put her head down on her makeshift desk and let the tears come. They flowed softly at first, quietly, almost soundlessly and then the emotions just completely overwhelmed her and she lifted her shoulders up off the desk, leaned back in her chair, wrapped her arms around her belly and curled herself over them, and cried.

She cried because she was frustrated, because her shipment had gone missing and was causing her distress. She cried because she didn’t know what to do, or how much money it would cost her to do whatever it was that needed to be done, or whether she would be able to get herself and her plans together in time to open this new spa or the others that she had already planned. She cried because this man on whom she was just beginning to depend now had troubles of his own and might no longer be available to her, and because she really was tired of doing it all by herself, everything always only by herself. She cried because she didn’t want to be alone anymore and now he was going away, back to his family and his real life, which did not include her.

Sasha cried because she was feeling alone in the world, weak and abandoned and in need. Things had been going so well these last few years. Everything had been going well for her. Nothing had happened in her life that she had not been able to fix or move past since that day five years before when her mom had called her to say that Dad had taken a turn for the worse and then had called back to say that he had died on the way to the hospital. She remembered exactly where she was and what she was doing when that call had come through. And she remembered that, after the funeral when she and her mother were walking back to the car, her mother had said, “I am all alone, now. I don’t have anybody anymore.”

She hadn’t quite understood it then, but she was beginning to now. She had been relying on Lionel being there – being there to help with things like lost purchases – but also just being present. Having dinner with him and for spending evenings with after work had very quickly become the norm for her, she realised, and now he was going away and she would not have him anymore. The thought startled her deeply and set her to crying some more. What was she going to do when he was gone? How was she gong to cope?

Of course, he had to go to his family. It was a time of need, a time for family to come together, rally round and take care of their own. She knew that; she understood it clearly. She would have done the same thing, had it been her brother. But she didn’t want him to go. She wanted him here with her. She needed him with her.

“Dammit!” she sobbed out loud. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! I have a right to have somebody of my own, too. I do, I do. I know that I want to do all these things but I don’t want to have to do them alone. I want somebody who will share them with me. Why did this have to happen right now? Why did it have to happen at all? Just as things are beginning to go well, bam! some shit had to happen. Come on, man. What the hell?”

“What’s wrong, Sash?” she heard a voice ask. At first, she couldn’t quite comprehend. She didn’t recognise the voice, and anyway it seemed to becoming from some place very, very far in the distance.

“What’s going on, Sasha?” the voice asked again. “Why are you crying?” She felt a soft, warm pressure on her shoulder. She opened her eyes a tiny slit to peer through her tears and her lashes. She burst into fresh round of tears. She had never even had a sister. She was jealous of Lionel and his sister and the bond that existed between them and, it was obvious, among all the members of their family, even when he had talked about his troubles with his father. She had only her mother, but not really even so. Her father had been her hero and her soft place. Her mother had never been very demonstrative with her affections or generous with her approval. Her father had been her big cheerleader. Oh! How she missed him.

“Are you okay?” Peggy asked again, this time trying very gently to pry Sasha’s hands away from her face. She was partially successful. Sasha did let her friend hold her hands for a moment and she tried to see through her tears and look Peggy in the eye, but she just couldn’t. Nor could she slow her crying. Peggy lowered herself almost to her knees, and put her arms round Sasha.

“It’ll be alright, Sash!” she said. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. I’m here. I got you. We’ll fix it together. The two of us. I’m here, Sash. Don’t cry. I’m here. You’re not alone.” For a time, Sasha cried even harder, but Peggy kept reassuring her, and slowly, the tears began to subside.

“I don’t know what to do, Peggy,” Sasha finally said, “I don’t know what to do. Everything is just so hard, right now. Everything. This place, the container, New York! Everything! And now, I am going to have to go back to China again. I thought I had everything settled. I did everything I was supposed to. And still…still! It has all gone wrong. Again. I’m tired. I am so tired.” Her friend held her and listened.

“I don’t know what else to do now,” Sasha began again. “I did everything. Now it’s all lost and I have to start again from scratch or just give up the business and go home.”

“No no! You’re not going home,” Peggy said. “Don’t say that. You will get through this. We will get through this. I’m here. I will help you work it out and fix everything. That’s my job. That’s what you hired me for, remember?”

Sasha nodded. She turned and looked at Peggy, blinking several times, then dissolved into tears again.

“Oh! Peggy!” she cried. “And now you won’t have a job, either. Oh. Oh! What am I going to do?”

“Don’t worry about me, Sasha,” Peggy said, with a laugh. “I’ll be fine. I will have a job. I do have a job. You have a business and I have a job. We’re good!!”

“And I also have to move within a couple of weeks,” lamented Sasha, again. “I have to hand over the boat soon and I’m nowhere near ready. I haven’t even begun to pack or anything. And I haven’t decided where I’m going to live, either. This container mess has had me so disturbed and distracted. Aaaah!” And the crying started again.

“It’s alright, Sasha,” Peggy told her. “Everything’s alright. Don’t worry “I’ll help you with that. That place you had liked so much is still available. I’ll just call the agent and I’ll go sort out a place for you and get you the keys. Then, I’ll come help you pack and you’re good to go. Don’t worry about it.”

Again, Sasha looked at Peggy, this woman who was family, friend and employee She took a deep breath, held it for a moment and let it out slowly.

“Thank you, Peggy,” she told her. “Thank you ever ever so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Peggy smiled and said, “It’s okay, Sash. I’m happy I’m here, too.”

“Now, Lionel who was supposed to be helping us find this container, is also leaving,” Sasha told Peggy when the tears had stopped coming and she had dried her face. “His brother had a bad accident and now he has to go home to California to be with his family. He’s leaving in the morning.”

“Oh. Oh, my!” Peggy said. “What happened?”

“Motorcycle accident. He hurt his head and injured his spine, so they took him into surgery last night.”

“How is Lionel doing?”

“He seems to be doing alright, but, yeah, he’s heading home to his family in the morning.”

“That’s not good. Well, I mean, it is good that he’s going to be with his family, but it’s not good the “why” he has to go. You know what I mean?”

“I know,” Sasha answered. “I know.”

“So, will he still be helping us with the container? Will he be able to, I mean?”

“Well, he says he will. And I guess he could, yes. You know? It’s all being done by phone, really, so whether he’s here or there doesn’t have to make any difference whatsoever. Technically. It’s just that, you know, how he might be feeling and whether his brother pulls through and so on. You know?”

“Yeah. I totally understand. I get it.”

“And then, of course,” Sasha continued, “going back to California means he’s going back to work, so he might literally not have the time to even think about us and our container. He’ll have bigger problems, more important matters to deal with.” Peggy glanced quizzically – and intensely – at Sasha as she heard her say this.

“I am sure he’ll still do everything he can, just like he’s been doing here,” she said. “Lionel doesn’t strike me as being the kind of man who just walks away from stuff. And besides, I think he really enjoys working on these kinds of things. I think he’d do it, even if it wasn’t for you.”

“Hmm!” was all Sasha said.

“But, of course,” Peggy began, “it is you, it is your problem and it is, therefore, also his problem.”

It was Sasha’s turn, now, to look up sharply at the woman who was talking to her.

“Wha’d’you mean?” she asked.

“What do you mean what do I mean?” Peggy was laughing now. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Maybe, I don’t, though,” Sasha kind of mumbled, getting up and walking across the room to get her water bottle from the tiny refrigerator she had managed to get hotel stores to lend them.

“Oh! Well!” Peggy played along. “If you don’t, then I can’t help you. You’ll need to go write to Dear Abby or something.”

Sasha burst out laughing and spilled her water. “Dear Abby? Dear Abby?”

Peggy watched her for a moment then joined in and they laughed together. They laughed and laughed, uncontrollably, until their bodies ached.

“Oh! My head, my head!” said Peggy. “My head hurts.”

“My chest hurts,” laughed Sasha, between breaths. “My chest is killing me.”

“My knees feel weak,” Peggy said and half-sat, half-fell down onto the chair nearest to her.

“Dear Abby?” Sasha repeated, trying hard for her most serious, fake-serious tone. “Dear Abby? Oh! That’s good. That is really good, Peg. Ok. Ok. You got it! I’m gonna write to Dear Abby. I will do it today.” And the two of them broke into peals of uncontrollable laughter all over again.

“Ok. So,” Lionel began. “The first thing we have to do, now that we know the situation, is we have to file a claim with the shipping agents who will file with the insurance company and work out your compensation for the loss or inconvenience. Well, it’s inconvenience at this point, because technically, the container is no longer lost. It has been misplaced, I guess. But since you need these things on a tight schedule and their mistake is costing you money and time and messing with your business, you can make a claim based on that.”

“Ok!” Sasha was listening very closely.

“Now, of course, these things take time,” Lionel continued. “They always take time. Insurance companies don’t like to pay out money so they always hem and haw and take as much time as they possibly can. I believe that they sometimes think that if they take long enough people will get fed up and not bother and they get to keep the money they would have to pay out otherwise.”

“Yes. I know what you mean,” commented Sasha. “And people do do that, not so? So many times when people have minor car accidents, for example, they just decide to settle things between themselves instead of doing all that paperwork and going through all that waiting and processing. And downright harassment!”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Lionel agreed with a short chuckle. “Sometimes it’s just quicker and easier to avoid them for small things.” They were sitting on the aft deck of the boat. He had brought a couple of bottles of red wine. As he was telling her these things, he was opening one of the bottles. Sasha put two glasses onto the table in front of them, and after he had poured them each a glass, he handed one to her, raised his and said, “To life. To health and healing and long, healthy lives.”

“To life,” Sasha repeated. “To health and healing and long, healthy lives.”

They clinked glasses. “And to love,” he added. An expression of astonishment and questioning crossed Sasha’s face and she drew her chin in and looked under her eyebrows up at him.

He responded with a meaningful smile, and then with the utmost nonchalance, he sat down and said, “So, anyway, I called Siro back after I talked to you this morning, and I asked him to email me the proper forms to begin the claim with the shipping company. He is good, this guy. They were in my inbox by the time I got off the phone and I sent them to you. He also sent the forms the shipping company will want you to fill out for their insurance.” Sasha was having difficulty following his words. Her mind was racing and she was afraid her brain was leaving her. She felt sweat gather itself in her palms and between her breasts. What did he mean? What was he saying? she wondered.

“Cool! Thank you.” Was what she ultimately answered. She shook her head slightly trying to get her focus back. She looked out over the bay towards the island. She tried really hard to seem casual, but she could feel his eyes on her. He kept on talking.

“So, you should send them to Peggy and let her get started on them. I will connect her with the people in shipping and deliveries at Leonello, and with Siro, and they will walk her through it. That way, she will know exactly what to do – and who to call – if this ever happens again. And, unfortunately, dear Sasha, I have to tell you, as long as you’re doing this kind of international business, it will very likely happen again.”

“It’s a pain,” she commented, with expression, happy that she had found an out. She breathed in deep and then let her breath out slowly with a shake of her head. “A huge pain.”

“A huge pain in the arse, if you ask me,” he elaborated, “but it is par for the course. Besides, when you’re doing things, when you’re being creative and productive, something always goes twisted. That’s just life. The trick is to know what to do before it happens a second time and then, to set up your systems to mitigate as well as to fix it when it does happen. Again, I have to tell you, it’s not you necessarily failing to do something, it’s just the nature of the business – and of life, generally.”

‘Yes. I know,” she grumbled. “Well, where this particular thing is concerned, now I know. I get it. And to fix it this first time…”

“And to fix it this first time…,” he interrupted her, “we have to think of how to get you enough of what you need to get your spa to open while we wait for your other stuff to come round again – after it’s done its sightseeing tour around the Pacific Ocean!” Sasha laughed. It was a weak attempt at humour on his part, but it did manage to lift her spirits a little.

“But to buy all of that stuff again, and get it here?! Oh my god!!” She groaned in irritation.

“Well, maybe you don’t have to buy all that stuff again,” he scratched his forehead, thinking. “Actually, maybe you…well…I think, the first thing you have to do is figure out what you want to do about your opening date. You will probably have to move it back.”

“Aargh!!” was Sasha’s response. “I suppose so. Peggy and I talked about that today. We figured that since we had not actually advertised an exact date yet – in our advertising and our direct mail, we had only said ‘Coming Soon’ and ‘Get ready for the new season’ – hmm! And although the Hotel, and people in our industry had kind of figured out we meant next month…well…” She was thinking it through. Lionel listened.

“Yeah!” she said after a while. “Yes. We are changing the date we had in mind. We have to. And, now, once we figure out the very minimum that we need to open and get started, we can set a timeline and a new date.”

“Now, you’re talking!”

“Mmhm!” Sasha smiled at him. “Peggy and I went through the entire list this afternoon, and we didn’t finish, but we are trying to decide what we really, really need and what we can do without until later. When we decide on those, we can see how long it will take to get them here and get set up and then with that information, we can decide a date. I will have to go see how much of it I can find – in Florida, preferably. Or maybe in New York. China is too far for right now, I think.”

“Yeah, maybe, but not necessarily,” Lionel said.

“How, no?” Sasha asked him.

“Well! Believe it or not, shipping from China is really very reliable – and quick – most of the time, in spite of what happened with your container and in spite of everything we’ve said. And many things are still cheaper if you get them from China, even with shipping and taxes on imports. But, you know that. You know that.”

“Yes. I do, but this is different,” Sasha countered. “This is very different. I have literally no time left. Everything is a crunch now.”

“No! Not if you set a new date that takes everything into account, and then work to that. If you’re still working to the date you had in your head all along, then you will definitely run into problems.”

“Yeah! Yeah! You’re right. I had forgotten about that. Obviously, I’m still stuck on the original date.”

“So, what possible dates have you and Peggy thought of so far? Anything?”

“Well, no. Not really. We have no fixed idea yet. We’re thinking we could push it back another couple of months or so, but of course, we still do not know everything that we are going to need to get and the shortest time it will take to get them here and have them installed. And, of course, we don’t know yet, where it would be easiest and/or best for us to find the things that we do decide we need.”

At some point, after they had been talking and strategising for a long time, Lionel’s phone rang. Sasha looked at him. Concerned that it might be more bad news about either his brother or her container. He spoke in one-word answers to whoever was at the other end. He was obviously avoiding saying anything specific in her presence. Sasha was a little perturbed by it for a fleeting second. It was, clearly, a very personal and private conversation. He did not want her to hear, so she got up and walked into the boat. She wandered around a little bit, looking into the refrigerator, checking cupboards and things to keep out of earshot and give him the privacy he so obviously wanted. He could have just said it’s a private call and excuse himself, she thought to herself. That’s all he had to do. Just then, she heard him call her name. She didn’t answer right away. She waited.

“Hey!” she answered, when she heard him call again another two times.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Dinner’s served, madam,” he announced, with a flourish and a sweeping gesture directed at a trolley covered with a white cloth, that had appeared on the dock. “Would you prefer we dined there or here, madam?”

“Oh! Dinner?” was all Sasha could say.

“Yes, madam. Dinner,” he repeated.

“You ordered dinner?” she asked, still taken up with the surprise.

“I ordered dinner,” he replied. “Shall I have it brought up, madam?”

“Erm! Yes!” she stammered. “Yes. Up here.” She began to move about, started to clear the table.

“No need to do that,” Lionel told her. “Relax. I got this.” He tapped something into his phone and almost immediately two people appeared on the dock, lifted the trolley and brought it aboard.

“Take it to the seating area up there in the bow,” Lionel directed the men.

He took Sasha’s hand and led her to sit in the very place in which she was seated that night not much more than a couple of weeks ago, when he had come out here to talk to her at the party. The bow of the yacht was pointed away from the land and the seats were wide and deep, set in a shallow well about eighteen inches or so lower than the deck itself. Without resistance, Sasha sat down and made herself comfortable as Lionel instructed. She was tempted, for a moment, to just stretch her body out on these seats and let the evening take her cares away. Instead, she slid all the way back into the seat, and sat.

Her feet were already bare, so she pulled them up and crossed her legs as they lay stretched out in front of her on the couch. It was as wide as a bed, so she pulled some cushions and piled them up between her and the back of the couch and moved her body forward so that she was sitting closer to the table instead. She propped herself up amongst the cushions, patting them in place and wriggling herself into them until she found her spot. She looked out at the sea and stars in the distance and felt calmer and more relaxed than she had in many days – maybe even weeks. She looked up at Lionel.

Lionel also sat down and the men put dinner plates, cutlery and several platters covered with sparkling silver dish covers, onto the table. One man opened a bottle of water and poured into two glasses, then did the same with a bottle of wine, after having Lionel taste and approve it. At a signal from Lionel that Sasha was barely able to discern, the men retreated and disappeared from Sasha’s view.

“Buon appetito, cara,” Lionel said, raising his glass to her. She responded by raising her glass, too, and trying her tongue at the Italian language.

“Buon appetito,” she said.

He laughed, clinked his glass to hers and said, “Saluti!”

“Saluti!” she responded.

The wine was cool and intense on her tongue. She felt it float up into her head and release its aromas so she could fully taste them. She sipped again and looked across at him. He smiled, raised his glass slightly and nodded back at her.

“Enjoy!” he said.

“I am enjoying. Thank you.”

The sky above them was darkest blue and stars glittered all around. A very light breeze brushed her shoulders and played for a moment on her back, bare except for the skinniest of straps holding her dress in place.

The meal was exquisite. Four courses with several dishes each, that they mixed and matched and integrated and served themselves as they felt to, following no particular pattern. Except for dessert. Lionel later told her that he had asked the chef at the hotel, about three days before, to prepare this special meal for them. He had been planning a surprise evening picnic on a beach somewhere, but with all the events of the last few days, he had had to change his plans. At first, he said, he had thought to just scrap the idea, but instead he decided to move it forward to tonight. With everything that was going on, they both needed a break, he said. They needed respite, some solace. She nodded in agreement.

Lionel served. He served each dish from the platters already on the table and from those on the trolley. They compared notes on the different dishes and talked about their favourite foods and childhood preferences. In fact, the two of them talked about everything. They chatted nonstop – about the sky and the stars, and family and friends, and the news and the world, and books and food and everything else besides, while they ate and drank and just thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.

When the time came for dessert to be served, Lionel got up and went to the stern of the boat. She wondered about it, but she had stopped asking questions by about half way through the first course. At this point, she was quite settled and very happy to just go with his flow, and everything had flowed well so far!

He came back with two tallish, ice-cream glasses filled with English trifle drizzled with dark chocolate syrup. She laughed. He had remembered. One of the times that they had gone to dinner together, they had talked about her strange addiction to the British dessert. She had ordered English trifle for dessert and then asked the waiter to bring chocolate syrup. The chef had not been very pleased, they had gathered from the waiter. Reportedly, he considered it akin to sacrilege, the defiling of his special trifle. Her addiction, on the other hand, demanded that she have the dessert only with chocolate syrup added.

The two of them lay back against the cushions and chatted some more, savouring their chocolate-drizzled trifle and enjoying the evening. Inside her heart, however, Sasha was feeling a little strange; she felt kind of sad and uncertain. She had managed to keep it under control for the most part, but every now and then throughout the meal, the feeling would raise its head and she would have to fight hard not to be overcome by it. She was certain it was remnants of her little emotional breakdown earlier in the day, and she mostly felt that she had regained her confidence, but she was still tender.

Lionel had been very much a part of her getting to feel better, and she was deeply grateful. He had taken the time to work with her all these days, to help her fix this container trouble. Even tonight, when his whole family was in anguish, and although he was so worried about the danger his brother was in, he still made the time to come to her and walk her step by step through what she needed to do now that there had been this latest development. He had spoken with Peggy, too, and given her all the information, instructions and connections that would help her do her part of the work. He had not let his worry and pain stop him helping her. He was keeping his word. She knew for certain that even after he left in the morning, he would still continue to do everything he could to help her sort out this mess.

All of a sudden, though, she was overcome with a rush of concern for him. He had not talked about his brother’s accident the entire evening. They had talked about his family and his going back to California, of course, but other than that, he had focused solely on her and her problems. And she! She had been thinking only about herself all evening! She could only imagine how he must be feeling inside. All this time, she had not paid any attention to his feelings. How could she have been so insensitive?

“Lionel,” she said, softly, turning to face him.

He turned his head slightly to look at her.

“Thank you,” she said. “I just wanted to thank you for all your help and support with my shipping problem. Especially today. Especially now. I know you’re worried about your brother and I can imagine how you must be feeling, and I am so, so sorry. And, then tonight, with everything that you’re going through, you still took the time to look out for me, even with everything that I know you must be feeling, and I just took and took and kept on taking everything you offered to help me feel better, and…I…I’m sorry. I am truly very sorry that your brother was hurt and I hope he recovers fully…and…and…” she stopped mid-sentence, unable to carry on, not at all sure what else to say.

He looked at her for a moment, then took his eyes away and looked up into the stars. She reached out and laid the palm of her hand against his cheek and he brought his eyes back to her face. He put up his hand and held the fingers that were touching him. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, turned his head and kissed the centre of her hand. She curled her fingers and cupped his mouth. He let his tongue trace the contours of her palm and she put her other arm around him and brought her body up to meet his. He pulled her close and buried his face in her neck just behind her ear, and kissed her there. His breath felt luscious and warm on her neck. She moved her head, turning it just ever so slightly, so that the warm air from his mouth wafted gently over the back of her neck. Her spine tingled deliciously all the way down to its tip. She wiggled a little bit and arched into him. He moaned. She held him.

“You!” he said, whispering into the furrows of her neck. And again, “You!” as his hand found the hollow that was the arch of her back.

His fingers pressed into her flesh. He pulled her in. She threw her head back, opening up her body to let him kiss her wherever he wanted, up, down and around her neck, her shoulders, the space at the base of her throat. They were side by side, half-sitting, half-lying together on the cushions. He rolled over and shifted his body so that she moved, too, and that he was lying on the edge, she cushioned between his body and the back of the couch. She lifted her leg onto the side of him, to make room for him, and he wrapped his arm around her thigh, his fingers curved around one of her full, firm buttocks. It was bare where her skirt had fallen away, and her skin was warm and smooth and moist. He wanted to kiss her there, so he shifted again, held her still where she was and slid his body down against hers until his mouth found the skin on the inside of her knee. She curled her toes and grabbed hold of his shoulders when he ran his tongue around her knee. He lifted her leg ‘til it was straight up and slid his lips down the back of her thigh, letting his tongue run around her hip to the front and back again to the inside of her knee. She was up on her elbows by now, her head thrown all the way back, her mouth half-open to the sky.

“You,” he said again.

“Yes,” she said to him. “Yes. Me.”

And he kissed her everywhere and she moaned and hugged him and kissed him back. She let him feel the strength of her legs, taste the sweetness of her skin and smell the warmth of the space between her legs. He found, again, the ravine between her breasts and tasted the salt of her sweat that had settled there.

His chest was firm and strong against her and she pressed her breasts and her belly up against the hardness of it, revelling in the solid warmth of him. She wrapped her arms around this body, as yet unfamiliar and unknown to her, but that felt so very much like home to her; so like a room of her own to her. She yearned to explore this body, this new home of hers. She moved and he moved with her. He lay on his back and watched her and she opened all the buttons of his shirt and let her fingertips roam over every inch of him – through his hair, over his face, tracing his eyelids and his lips. He took her fingers into his mouth one by one and kissed them and she continued her exploration down his body until she felt his ribs and knew his stomach and the hair on his chest. She reached his belt and he reached down and pulled her up so she was lying on him, her eyes so close he could see himself in them. Her lips brushed his. Lightly. He pulled her in.

His tongue found hers and they played together, darting, sliding, searching, tasting each other. His hands followed the curves and contours of her back and her hips and her buttocks. He cupped and caressed her thighs, her waist, her hips, her breasts, and right there, under the protective gaze of the stars, they searched each other’s body and soul. Their kisses excited and reassured, their caresses opened up parts of each of them and took them down pathways in their minds that they had never known before.

Cushions found themselves pushed off the couch and scattered all over the floor. Eventually, her dress joined them there. He took her dress off, sliding it off her hips, down her legs and onto the cushions on the floor. She wriggled and moved her body around to help him with it. When she was naked, her entire body bare beside him, he made love to every inch of her skin, kissing, tasting, feeling everything about her that made her this woman who now was driving him to delirium with her strength, her softness, her beauty, her openness, her interest in him. But who was she, though? He still did not know. Did she feel the same way he did? He kissed her again and again – and harder – as if he thought the answers lay in the taste of her skin, or in the flavours of her body. She responded in kind, her lips and fingers brushing, feeling, kissing, welcoming him to her.

The feel of his lips against her skin was deliciousness itself to her. She arched her body and stretched it full out, opening and closing and quivering with delight as she felt his warm breath on the patterns of wetness that his tongue traced on her shoulders, between her breasts, on the insides of her legs. Her hands searched him out and pulled him into her and they came together, with urgency and longing, and they touched each other and loved each other with their bodies and their souls.

They felt each other and looked at each other. They moved apart to explore and love each other with their eyes, then they came back together and he entered her and she opened herself fully to let him in and when afterwards she felt the waves crash over her and run right through her, she heard him calling her name because he, too, was caught in the same waves, was riding the crest of the waves and coming in to land in her, on her, with her. She wrapped her entire body around him, he poured his whole soul into her. They held on to each other for life and for love, and when that wave passed, they found another and another until at long last, they lay, spent and exhausted yet invigorated and uplifted, each on a shore that was the body of the other, a harbour, a haven, a refuge.

They lay there, naked and bare, with hearts full and limbs entwined, and the stars twinkled above them and onto the sea beneath them. And they slept soundly, safe with each other; safe in each other’s arms; safe in each other’s heart.

It was Sasha who awoke first. For a moment, she was a little confused, not quite sure where she was or what had happened, but she very soon got her bearings; her memory brought back the lovemaking of the night; it all rushed back to her and brought with it a reminder – a sensation that was sharp, that was almost a pain, to her heart, her chest, her belly. She breathed in deep, searching for some ease, and her body moved against the man lying next to her. He responded with a moan and a squeeze. He nuzzled her neck. She opened her eyes and he was looking right into them. The moon had come up while they slept and now, the moonlight glistened on his shoulders and the side of his face. She touched him in the light and he kissed her and she felt his body grow hard for her. And they made love again, by moonlight, sweet and slow this time. And then they lay together afterwards, holding and caressing each other, and watching the moon make her way across the sky.

“I love you,” he said. “You. You are the woman I love.”

She was teetering on the brink of sleep, fighting to stay awake. He was going to be leaving her soon, and she did not want to lose a moment of her time with him. She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. He was smiling down at her. He was fully dressed she noticed, and the realisation brought her fully awake. She sat up and leaned into the arms that he was holding open for her.

“It is time for you to go, now?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “My flight leaves in about two hours or so.”

She lay her head on his shoulder and said, “My heart will go with you.”

“And mine stays here with you,” he answered.

She remained still right where she lay, long after he had gone. The sky brightened and eventually, the sun came up, and still she lay there, her body no longer wanting sleep, her mind thinking only of him, and of the night she had just had. She watched the clouds floating by. Watched them turn from red to orange to white. Her eyes followed a pair of birds till they disappeared from view What now? she wondered.

“What now?” she asked out loud. “What now?”