Chapter 9
During Aaron’s convalescence, Valerie came to know Caye Caulker and most of its people on a first-name basis. In fact it disturbed her to realize that the country opened up to her more than Aaron did. She was even offered a job at the clinic, which she considered flattering, but she knew she could never leave behind her place of birth and what remained of her family.
When he was well enough, Aaron took her out to see the Mayan ruins at Altun Ha, without benefit of a tour guide. None was needed because he was a wealth of knowledge and he explained all the geological and architectural wonders.
As the days rolled by, they spent the time visiting many places of interest. Once on the way back to Caye Caulker from Belize City, Aaron chose the long route and flew over the area known as The Blue Hole, giving her a plane’s view of the marvel of nature. It appeared exactly as he had painted it—a huge indigo circle like a giant eye in the center of the aqua sea.
By the time the week was up, Valerie was agitated at having to return home. She still knew no more about Aaron than what others had told her, because even though she had given him plenty of opportunities, his conversations had been all about the aesthetics of geography and nature—nothing personal at all.
Sunday evening, Valerie started packing. A mechanical coldness settled over her as she sifted through clothes that were strewn all over the bed. She’d had to pick up additional luggage since she was taking back more than she’d arrived with, mostly worthless touristy junk, a few arts and crafts, and gifts purchased for Jasmine’s kids.
The prospect of returning home to two million dollars should have been exciting, but it wasn’t. In her opinion, it was blood money that she shouldn’t have received in the first place, and she had no idea what she was going to do with it.
Aaron’s last MRI had confirmed that his lungs were clear. His improvement probably meant that he wouldn’t be staying in Belize much longer, either, and that he’d most likely return to New York or go off on another one of his top-secret missions and get killed. Yes, she was angry, furious, in fact, and she knew it was partially her own fault because she hadn’t exactly opened up to him, either, feeling that her life was too boring to talk about.
She glared at a swimsuit, a skimpy white bikini that belonged on the body of an anorexic eighteen-year-old, not a top-heavy thirty-something with too much caboose. Why had she purchased the thing? She balled it up and threw it at the door just as it opened and Aaron, perfect reflexes and all, caught it.
“Sorry,” she said, without looking at him. “I thought the door was locked.”
“I knocked but you didn’t answer.” He dangled the offensive garment on one finger. “Have you worn this yet?”
“No. It’s not for me,” she lied.
She turned, sauntered over, and snatched it away from him, and then went back to what she had been doing. Rude, but she didn’t care. He could think what he wanted.
“You’re packing,” Aaron said, helping himself to the chair nearby.
“You noticed,” she replied, forgetting to ask him why he’d come to her room in the first place.
“I didn’t realize you were going so soon.”
“Can’t stay here forever.”
“Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Stay if you could?”
“Of course not. I don’t know anyone here.”
“Except for Noah and Jasmine and your cousin, who do you know in New Jersey?”
She clenched her teeth, crumpled up two T-shirts, and crammed them into the suitcase.
“Aren’t you going to fold them?”
“You’re messing with me, Aaron.” She slammed the suitcase shut and whirled to face him. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Woman, I haven’t even begun messing with you.” He rose to his full height and abruptly pulled her into his arms.
Before she could wrestle herself free, the grip became a locking one, his strength so apparent she would have been completely helpless had he been an enemy. But he was not an enemy, and she knew if she really wanted him to let go he would.
“Tell me why you’re so angry,” he said.
“I’m not angry.”
“Prevarication isn’t one of your virtues, but suit yourself. Maybe you’d like to know why I’m angry.”
His grip had not loosened, yet she felt some of her own combative tension drain. “I didn’t realize you were. Why are you angry?”
“Because I’m not ready to let you go.”
“I, um…” She stumbled over her words. “I guess I’m surprised to hear you say that.” Boy, what a twit. She rarely stammered, and now here she was doing just that. “I’m not ready to let you go, either,” she admitted finally.
“Good, we’ve reached common ground. So, what do you think of marriage?”
Her breath caught. She simply could not believe the turn the conversation had taken, the words that had come out of his mouth. “I think,” she said slowly, “that in most cultures there is such a thing as engagement first.”
“I’m not into customs and I don’t do engagements.”
She blinked. “Aaron, what exactly are you saying?
“Marry me, Valerie, here in Belize.”
Speechlessness combined with numbness overtook her. A wild impulsive part of her wanted to throw all common sense out the door and say yes, but how could she? She had already had one ill-conceived marriage, and if she made another foolish mistake, she wouldn’t even be able to blame it on youth.
“Have you lost your mind?” she asked him, realizing even as she said it that the question was too harsh, too cold.
He released her then, so abruptly that she nearly stumbled backward. Somehow she made it back to the bed and sat down while he paced around the room like a caged panther.
She inhaled deeply. “We can’t…nobody gets married just like that. There are too many things I don’t know or understand about you, and you don’t really know me, either.”
“I do know you,” he said bluntly. “And I’m willing to tell you some things about myself.”
She had a zillion things she wanted to know about him, but her mind fixated on his staunch statement regarding his so-called knowledge of her. “What do you think you know about me?”
He stopped pacing and began to recite as if reading a fact sheet, or, worse, a newspaper obituary. “You were born to Joel and Ruth Redmond in Middletown, New York, where you spent most of your childhood and went to school. Your father served honorably in Korea and extended his tour of duty for six years. He later resigned from the military and became a minister. You have an older brother, Greg, a corporate lawyer living in Chicago. He’s married with two children. You went to college briefly in Ohio, but returned home when your father died and, soon after that, married a much older man. The marriage ended in divorce after a year. You returned home and transferred to a local college, where you took up nursing. Your mother is …”
“Enough,” she said coldly, rising, ready to show him to the door. “You know statistics about me. Everything and nothing at all. Do you also know the name of the person I was married to?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me his name?”
“Apparently you don’t want me to.”
“How did you find out all that stuff? Surely Jasmine didn’t tell you.” She yanked the door open wide, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. “No, wait…that’s right, you have all these resources, these ways of invading a person’s privacy without even asking permission.”
Aaron did not move from where he stood. “I’m sorry you’re offended. It’s just standard procedure. When I was looking into the Allard case, I had to know a few things about you, too, in order to rule out suspects.”
“You could have just asked me.”
He remained silent for a few seconds, and when he spoke the mechanical tone to his voice was gone, and his pitch was lower, more emotive. “You’re right. I should have asked. It just never
occurred to me at the time. I’m sorry.”
Valerie realized what she already suspected, that he was a man who rarely asked others for permission to do anything, and in the last few days he’d probably apologized to her more times than he’d ever apologized to anyone in his entire life. On that basis alone, she wanted to forgive him, but she was having a hard time handling everything that had been thrown at her in the last few minutes. What she really wanted to do was shove him out the door, lock it, and then get back to him in an hour when her head stopped spinning and her heart rate had returned to normal. But he clearly wasn’t going any place on his own, and, unless she started screaming bloody murder, there was nothing she could do except deal with him.
“It’s late,” she said, trying to sound calm, hoping he’d take the hint. “We both need to think.”
Aaron, who had started pacing again, stopped and moved closer to her. “Perhaps you’re right about me losing my mind. I’ve not only lost it, but maybe I’ve misjudged you as well.”
“Meaning?”
“What I said earlier was ridiculous. We don’t have to get married. We can still be together without making that commitment.”
“No!” She raked her fingers through her hair. “You haven’t misread me at all in that regard. If I believed in no commitment, you and I would have been all over each other the first time I kissed you. The issue here is why won’t you do an engagement so we can get to know each other better?”
He jammed his hands in his front pockets. “Because we both know that an engagement will give us time to think, and if we do that I will consider all the reasons why I never intended to marry and the engagement will be off.”
Better to break an engagement than a marriage, she thought lamely. But, yes, the words were spoken and there was nothing romantic or intriguing about the truth—the cold, brutal truth, and now they had arrived at an impasse with no way out. Valerie avoided looking at his eyes, sat back down hard on the bed, and laughed insanely, deliriously, because it was better than screaming.
“Valerie, stay just a little while longer. A week. Three days.” Aaron sat down beside her. “I’ll try to answer whatever questions you might have.”
Why couldn’t he have just volunteered the information two or three days ago when they were relaxed and at peace? But no, he had to wait until the atmosphere was heated and volatile. “I can’t discuss this anymore…not tonight,” she said firmly. “I need space.”
His arm slid around her, and she started to pull away, but the gesture was conciliatory, consoling. He caressed her shoulder lightly, his touch smooth as silk.
“Tomorrow morning,” he said rising slowly. “We’ll go for a sail on Saniyah II, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
***
The night stretched on endlessly. Wearing only a long T-shirt, Valerie slipped out of the bed and wandered toward the terrace. The balmy sea breeze welcomed her as she slid the screen doors open and stepped out into full view of the amber moon, which stared blatantly, luminously, and deviously at her, its leering visage reflected perfectly in the somnolent blackness of the sea.
Already she knew she’d go sailing with Aaron, for despite his arrogance and cynicism, there were many good things that she did know about him—things she’d gleaned from her own observations and things she had been told by others. Sometimes the truest portrait of a person came from their friends and associates. She’d heard that, as a very young man, he’d flown fighter jets for the Israeli Defense Force. She also knew that he was generous, heroic, fiercely protective, and loyal to those he called friends. Jasmine’s husband, whose life he’d saved more than once, would readily attest to that.
Harrison Porter didn’t even deserve to crawl in Aaron’s shadow. Just thinking about her ex made her flush with embarrassment and humiliation. She had been so young and naïve back then. The marriage had dissolved in a year immediately after she’d suffered a miscarriage and had been told by doctors that she would never be able to have children.
After years of obligatory dating, attending church socials, and everything in between, she had never felt anything beyond brotherly affection for the other men who’d flitted in and out of her life. Only when she was around Aaron did she feel passionately alive and open to all possibilities. She absolutely owed it to herself to stay in Belize a little longer.
Chapter 10
A gentle tropic breeze caressed the sea, billowed the sails, and caused the graceful schooner to surge forward.
Standing on deck, Valerie recalled her magical childhood days on Rhode Island and the sheer delight of being on an open body of water, riding the waves, becoming a part of nature far more powerful than any human—a part that compelled even the most rebellious to follow her commands.
Aaron knew these commands intrinsically. If he had not encouraged her to work along with him raising the sails, setting the ship in motion, she would have been content just to sit back and watch him handle the lines and rigging.
They were not going very far. He had told her they would be visiting one of several atolls that dotted the coast of Belize, but the destination was not important; it was the journey that mattered.
“You’ve somehow managed to maintain your sea legs over the years,” he said. “Are you sure you haven’t been out sailing since childhood?”
“I haven’t,” she admitted. “But some things you just never forget. Like riding a bike, swimming, or even your first love.”
“Who was your first love?” Aaron asked.
Valerie laughed. “Never mind me. I want to hear about you.”
He took his place at the helm as the boat sailed effortlessly now, caught on the breeze. “Where do you want me to start?” His tone was serious.
“Most stories start at the beginning,” Valerie said slowly. “Jasmine told me you were born in Africa to a Jewish father and an African mother, and that your mother died when you were very young. Is that part true?”
“Yes. But I’ll start with my father, David Weiss. Contrary to what some people think, Weiss is not a Jewish name, it’s German. My father’s people were German Jews from Munich, and most of them died during the Holocaust. My father and his older brother, Gabriel, survived because they were living in the United States with an uncle who’d immigrated long ago.”
“How did it come about that your father and his brother were living with their uncle?” Valerie asked.
“His parents, my grandparents, didn’t like what was shaping up politically in Germany. They sent both of their sons to live in the United States and they planned to join them later. They waited too long.”
Valerie flinched visibly. “Could you tell me more?”
“My father’s uncle was involved in the diamond industry, and he often traveled to the Middle East and Africa, taking his two nephews along with him. He later moved to Africa, and that’s how my father came to be associated with Cielo Vista, which was pretty much ruled by Spaniards.”
“You’re referring to the Arias dynasty, Noah’s people,” Valerie said.
“Yes.”
“My father grew up there, met and married my mother, and, after she died, he left Cielo Vista and went to Israel to join his brother, who’d moved there years ago. That’s where I grew up and….”
“Wait,” Valerie said. “Could you tell me how your mother died?”
“She died hours after giving birth to me,” Aaron said emotionlessly. “I don’t know the specifics because my father never told me, but I will say that Cielo Vista was very much a third-world country back then and medical standards were primitive. It was common for women to die from childbirth-related complications.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. It happened a long time ago,” he replied in an offhand way, indicating that he was ready to move on with his story.
“Is your father still living?” she asked.
“No. He’s been dead for five years now, but you’re jumping way ahead. My father married again, an Israeli woma
n. I was raised from the age of six on a kibbutz.”
“That’s sort of like communal living, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you live with your father and stepmother?”
“I chose not to.”
“At the age of six? I didn’t know six-year-olds were capable of making such decisions.”
“I wasn’t your typical six-year-old.”
“Your father wanted this for you?”
“He agreed to it. He was away on business a lot, plus he had other children with his second wife, and she and I didn’t bond very well.”
Valerie was alert for any signs of emotion from him, but she saw and heard nothing.
“I suppose you then joined the military as soon as you were old enough.”
“I didn’t join. In Israel, military service is compulsory, but I learned a lot from it. I flew bombers when the country was in conflict with Lebanon. Not too proud of some of the events that happened there.”
“I heard you were outstanding.”
“As a pilot and a strategist, maybe, but I was not a good soldier. Soldiers take orders. I prefer to give them, and I hated that in following orders of others, far too many civilians died.”
Nothing surprising about that revelation, she thought, especially the part about not liking to take orders.
“Why did you leave Israel and become an American citizen?”
“I didn’t leave. I was deported.”
She flinched. His words were as cool and emotionless as everything he’d said thus far. “You must have done something…or been accused of something pretty terrible in order to get deported from your own country.”
“I almost murdered another soldier and I was accused of treason. The treason part wasn’t true.”
She sighed. “Why would you attempt to kill a comrade?”
“He murdered a girl I loved.”
The Sea of Aaron Page 9
