Tropical Temptation

by Angela R. Sargenti

  It was, in fact, an actual event, was the watery grave of many countless young men, a lot of them even younger than she was, snuffed out in the prime of their lives. All of a sudden, she felt moved to tears, although she couldn’t have explained why. She had no feelings one way or another about the military or the U.S. government, but she genuinely appreciated the sacrifice all those young men from the past had made.

  Alex, seeing she was on the verge of tears, slung a protective arm around her shoulders to soothe her.

  She stole a quick glance up at him and noticed that he, too, was affected. She watched as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

  “My grandfather died here,” he told her at last in a plaintive voice. “He died here and I never even got to know him.”

  This confession set her to weeping, the same way she’d seen women from an older generation weep over Elvis Presley’s grave at Graceland many years ago.

  At the time, she hadn’t understood what prompted them to cry over a total stranger’s grave, but she did now, and she buried her face in Alex’s shoulder. He took her in his arms to comfort her, and wiped away her tears when she was done crying.

  His heart softened towards her then, so much that he felt his resistance weakening. For a few minutes, he even believed he could really love her, given the slightest chance.

  And she seemed all too willing to give him that chance.

  Samantha dried her eyes and even managed to put on a sunny smile. By then, it was time to get back on the boat, and they went back across the harbor to disembark, Alex leading her back to their car.

  “I’m starving,” he said. “How about you?”

  She nodded, willing to go along with just about anything he suggested. He drove them to a nearby Korean restaurant, where they had lunch together.

  After they ate, Alex brought her back to the condo and excused himself yet again.

  This time, Samantha couldn’t figure out why he left her alone, but it was still very early in the afternoon and he left her the key, so she slipped out of the house to explore Waikiki for herself.

  She’d been there several days, but realized she’d never gotten a chance to check out the town on her own. Alex had always taken her someplace out of town, and she started to wonder if it was because people would mistake him for Jesse Dent or because he wanted to save the opportunity to shake her off once in a while.

  It was a disturbing thought, of course. She adored Alex and could hardly bear the idea that he didn’t feel the same about her. But she was prepared to discover the truth, prepared to face it, no matter what it turned out to be.

  Well, maybe she’d just shake him off for a while.

  In the meantime, he’d left her a couple of hundred dollars with a friendly note encouraging her to spend the money as she wished.

  She hesitated, of course, unused to such a large amount of spending money but, in the end, accepted Alex’s generous gift and went out onto the town alone to enjoy the sights and see what she could see.

  Anonymous again without Alex by her side and feeling as if she were on vacation, she drifted along with the crowds.

  Almost every storefront on the main drag was the same, some Asian-looking guy trying to hawk cheap tourist items. There were battery-operated hula girls who swung their hips to tinny hula music and t-shirts explaining how so-and-so went on vacation but had only thought to bring the recipient back some crummy shirt.

  She even passed several Japanese take-out establishments with fake plastic sushi and saimin displayed in their windows. She felt compelled to stop and examine them, surprised anyone would find them appetizing.

  And there were tourists everywhere, practically overrunning the place. She overheard several different languages, was surprised to discover Hawaii was very popular with the Japanese. She’d seen pictures of Japan and it looked very similar to Hawaii. Nevertheless, there they were in large, organized groups, cameras strapped around their necks, eagerly snapping photos of everything they saw.

  She quickly realized what Waikiki’s chief attraction for Alex must be: the awesome view from his condo and its proximity to the many beauties of the island.

  She retraced her steps and followed Lewers Street until it ended a few blocks later at a canal. There was a group of college-age guys out on the canal practicing in an outrigger canoe and she stood a while and watched them.

  In the end, she returned to the condo with no idea how else to kill the rest of the day. Deep inside, she felt satisfied, although she did feel a little bit lonely and homesick. She decided to call her mother.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, sweetie. How are you doing, are you okay?” her mother asked, a trace of apprehension in her voice.

  “Of course. I’m fine, Mom.”

  “What’s it like over there?”

  “I hope you guys’ll come over some time,” Samantha stated. “I know you’d love it as much as I do.”

  She then proceeded to describe everything she and Alex had done so far and told her mom all about his gorgeous condo. Her mother, having quite obviously allowed Samantha’s dad to instill some doubt into her head, asked cautiously if Alex was around.

  “No,” Samantha answered. “I think his girlfriend lives nearby. Sometimes he goes out and I don’t see him for hours, but he’s got all the cable channels and a really nice view of the ocean.”

  This seemed to soothe her mother somehow, and Samantha knew she’d report all this to her dad and set him at ease, too. And though she hated misleading her mother, she felt better when she rang off, knowing she’d assuaged her parents’ fears.

  She then called Marianne, realizing she hadn’t touched bases with her best friend since she arrived in Hawaii.

  “How’s everything going over there?” Samantha asked.

  “Oh, God, Samantha, I really think I’m in love.”

  “You are? With Paris?”

  “Yes. He is so sweet. I’ve never had anyone care about me the way he does. But how’s everything with you and Alex?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Aren’t you guys getting along?”

  “No, we are. It’s just that...I not too sure he’s all that interested in me as a woman. Which is okay. I mean, that’s pretty much how I planned this whole thing anyway, so who cares?”

  “I do,” Marianne told her. “I want you to be just as happy as I am. Hell, you’re my best friend.”

  “So are you,” Samantha admitted, “so don’t worry about me, all right? Everything will turn out okay.”

  Despite her confidence, Alex stayed gone for quite some time. To her relief, he returned well before nightfall looking contrite again, only this time with no gift to offer.

  Samantha couldn’t even bring herself to care, couldn’t think of any way of taking him to task for ditching her for so long. She let his transgression drop, telling him she was glad to see him back again and listening eagerly to what he had to tell her.

  “Good news,” he said. “My housekeeper called, and we can go home the day after tomorrow.”

  They spent the next day out on the North Shore. After having seen the baby-friendly waves of Waikiki Beach, the pounding surf here astounded her. Alex told her about the world-famous surfing competitions that took place here each winter, how the huge, wild waves here were legendary.

  She sucked in the fresh salt air, very appreciative of the wild, churning surf. Something within her made her regret that she’d never learned to surf, for she could picture herself perched on a long board, cutting in and out of the waves like the guys they were watching, letting the surf curl over her and riding that translucent blue tube to the end.

  Alex seemed to understand what she was feeling and smiled at her.

  “When we come back to Waikiki in a few months, we can take a surfing lesson if you want,” he
offered.

  She smiled, surprised. “How did you know?”

  “You don’t exactly have a poker face, you know. Come on. We’ve got to get back.”

  He took her hand and walked her back to his rental car for the drive back towards Waikiki. Samantha glanced at him once she got into the car, realizing how perceptive, how in tune with her feelings he really was. She gained a silent strength from this knowledge and, once they got back to the condo, she spent the remainder of the day with him as they packed their things, chatting like old friends.

  Chapter 5

  The next afternoon, after a very short flight over the glittering turquoise ocean, Alex and Samantha landed on the island of Molokai. He’d let her take the window seat again and never seemed to tire of her enthusiasm as she marveled over the beauty of the sea.

  Once they arrived, Albert, his hired man, was waiting to pick them up from the airport. He was a tall, sturdily-built young man about Samantha’s age. He gathered up their luggage and led them out to the parking area to an open Jeep. Alex handed her up into the Jeep and soon they were off, driving briskly down the highway, the warm wind rushing past them, blowing Samantha’s corkscrew curls around on her head until she was certain she’d look a positive fright by the time they reached the ranch.

  It was a short ride to their turn-off, and once they left the highway, Albert drove them up a beat-up old dirt road that was riddled with ruts and potholes. After one particularly gut-wrenching jolt, Samantha cleared her throat to speak.

  “What is with this road?” she asked

  “Keeps them nosy haoles out,” Albert said.

  Alex shot a surprised glance at the young man beside him.

  “Hey, uhm, Albert, we are both white.”

  “Maybe so, Bruddah, but you ain’t no haoles.”

  And though Samantha didn’t know precisely what he meant, she knew it was a compliment to both of them and saw how devoted to Alex he was.

  Finally the road forked and they headed right, onto an even worse stretch of road.

  “Where are we, Albert?” she asked, glancing around at the colorful plants and lush greenery lining the road. “The jungle or something?”

  She caught Albert’s eye in the rear-view mirror. He was grinning at her, his white teeth sharply contrasted with his deep tan.

  “Almost home,” Albert told her. Within a few moments, the jungle receded and the road smoothed out. They rounded a bend and then Samantha saw her new home for the very first time.

  She was faintly surprised, as she’d expected something along the lines of a grand Southern mansion, but it was nothing like that at all. This house appeared to be just a plain board and batten house, typical of those she’d already seen around the islands, only much larger, of course. It had lava-rock pillars out front and was set amongst a heavily planted garden. Albert stopped the Jeep on the level gravel drive and climbed out.

  There were chickens running around the front yard and an elderly Japanese woman - apparently Albert’s grandmother - shooed them away as she stepped out onto the wooden porch to welcome the pair of them home.

  Alex handed Samantha down from the Jeep, and then he bounded up the stairs to take the woman’s hand. She came down with him to greet Samantha.

  “Mrs. Kujiroaka, this is my new assistant, Samantha Wilkes.”

  “Welcome to Molokai, Missy Samantha. Please call me Grandma.”

  Alex placed a hand on each of their shoulders and escorted them up the stairs.

  “Let’s go inside and I’ll show you the house.”

  “Can I see my room?” Samantha asked eagerly.

  He grinned at Grandma.

  “She’s been hounding me for days now,” he laughed. “I’ll show you the room, but only if you promise to stop pestering me about it.”

  He crossed the light and airy living room and, grasping the knobs of a pair of double doors set into the right-hand wall, he opened them with a flourish, swinging them wide as he stepped aside to let Samantha enter.

  Excited, she went in, awed. “Oh, my God, Alex, it’s gorgeous.”

  It really was a lovely room, the four-poster bed hung with a rosy-hued chintz, the wallpaper a demure Laura Ashley print. Without being overly frilly or fussy, the room was perfectly feminine, romantic, even.

  “I found this in an antique shop in L.A.,” Alex told her, drawing her attention to the dressing table next to him, the perfect spot to sit and get ready each day. “I knew right away you’d like it. It’s a genuine Louis XV.”

  He pronounced it the French way and Samantha ran her fingers over the satiny wood, letting herself explore the intricacies of the carved cabriole leg. The first thing she’d unpack would be her new perfume bottle. Turning around swiftly, she just managed to prevent herself from embracing him in front of the Japanese woman.

  “It’s so beautiful, Alex,” she said softly, and then turned to Grandma. “And thank you for helping decorate my room. I love it.”

  Grandma smiled sweetly, looking pleased.

  “We haven’t unpacked the things you sent over,” Alex told Samantha. “Albert and I can help you unpack later, if you like.”

  He walked over and slid open the mirrored closet doors. The cardboard cartons were all inside.

  “Let me show you your private bathroom and sitting area,” he told her.

  He led Samantha through a door her own private little boudoir.

  There was a television, a compact stereo system, and a chaise lounge covered in the same soft floral chintz as her bed hangings. There were a couple of comfortable-looking chairs and plenty of open bookshelves for her things.

  Alex had even provided a small, elegantly feminine writing desk for her to sit at and, perhaps, write beautifully flowing, newsy letters to her friends and family (although no one she knew wrote letters any more).

  She watched as he opened a further door.

  This bathroom wasn’t nearly as large but it was every bit as elegant as the one in Waikiki.

  Alex had provided some lovely lace-trimmed towels, the kind her mother would kill her if she used at home, and a there was a lovely porcelain dish full of fine, imported soaps on the vanity.

  “Maybe you’d like to unpack now, on second thought,” said Alex. Samantha turned to him and nodded.

  “Please. Can I see the rest of the house later?”

  “Of course. You want me to stay and help?”

  “No, I can manage. I’ll let you see when I’m all done.”

  Samantha didn’t know how long she was at it, but she worked steadily until a quiet rap at the door interrupted her.

  “How about a cup of coffee?” Alex asked pleasantly.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost midnight.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  She came out and shut the door behind her, explaining that she wasn’t quite done with her room. It was apparent they were alone in the house, and Samantha looked at him.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you with all that banging around?”

  “Not at all. To be honest, I can hardly hear it on my side of the house.”

  Samantha found herself wondering what his room was like, and before she knew it, had asked to see it. Alex crossed the living room and motioned for her to join him.

  “Wow,” she told him, looking around. “This is one tough room.”

  Alex chuckled.

  “Come in.”

  “What is that?” she asked, pointing to a large wooden object hanging over the bed. “It looks kind of like an oxen yoke or something.”

  “That’s exactly what it is.”

  Samantha neared it and examined it closely. It was very beautiful, actually, all carved over with tiny flowers and vines.

  “It’s Japanese
. An antique.”

  Glancing around the room, she noted the rest of the décor was modern. The walls were painted to look like aged leather and, at the focal point of the room sat the largest bed she’d ever seen in her life. When she remarked on it, Alex told her it was custom made.

  The bed was covered in a chocolate-colored suede. A ledge substituted for the headboard and held a black ceramic vase full of colorful dried maple leaves and bare black twigs. The lighting was dim and dramatic.

  “Sit down and talk to me,” he invited, indicating the bed. When she did so, he went over to the nightstand, where a pen and a pad of lined paper sat.

  “I was just putting a few ideas down on paper,” he said, “but I got stuck and was wondering how you were doing over there.”

  He set the paper back down and tucked his legs up under him on the bed, reclining far away from her, against a large suede-covered pillow.

  “Mind if I smoke?” he asked, taking a cigar from the humidor beside him.

  Shaking her head, Samantha stretched out on the bed, propping her head on her hand, feeling a little bit tired.

  “I didn’t know you smoked,” she remarked.

  “I don’t always. Just once a day before bed, and only when I’m here at the ranch.”

  He lit the cigar, inhaling the smoke with obvious pleasure. She watched him while he smoked, silent, enjoying this intimate little ritual of his.

  After a while, her wrist began to ache so she grabbed a pillow and lay her head down.

  Samantha awoke with a start, unsure where she was at first, unfamiliar with her surroundings. The bright sunlight was streaming through a pair of open drapes and she realized she was still lying on Alex’s bed, although he was nowhere to be seen.

  She cast off the blanket that covered her and went to look for him, but he didn’t seem to be in either the kitchen or the living room, so she went to her own room.

  She found him lying there asleep in her bed, the pretty embroidered comforter pulled up under his chin. Her heart melted. She smiled in on him and he stirred a little in bed before the gentle rhythm of his breathing resumed.