Tropical Temptation

by Angela R. Sargenti

  “I found an error, Alex. Titian is a Venetian painter. Late Renaissance, not Baroque.”

  He pulled back and rudely snatched the page from her hand.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You called Titian a Baroque painter.”

  “He is a Baroque painter.”

  Samantha straightened her back and smiled. “Titian is not Baroque, Alex.”

  “Yeah? What do you know about it?”

  She laughed a little. “What do you mean? He’s Venetian. I used to be an Art History major before I switched to English. You asked me to proofread, so I did.”

  “Well, now I’m asking you to leave it. Stet. Or don’t you know what that means, Miss English Expert?”

  The tone of his voice stung her and she recoiled. He was being unreasonable, but she did know what she was talking about.

  “I’ll go get the book and show you.”

  He slapped the page down onto the table.

  “Don’t bother.”

  “No, I will, Alex. I know what I’m talking about and I want you to know that I know. You know?”

  He failed to laugh at her little joke so she started off toward her room. In fury, Alex rose from his chair and pursued her.

  “Come back here.”

  She whirled around, shocked by the sudden intensity of his anger.

  “Relax, Alex.”

  “Don’t you tell me to relax after you’ve deliberately defied me.”

  Without meaning to, Samantha shrank from him, afraid she’d somehow insulted him.

  “Alex, Please. Just let me show you.”

  “Damn you, Jennie, I’m warning you.”

  Samantha’s mouth fell open.

  “Jennie?”

  He turned away, looking embarrassed.

  “Samantha,” he said, correcting himself. “Whatever.”

  She watched as he sat back down at the table and picked up the screwdriver he was working with. He played with it, trying to pretend he didn’t know she was still there.

  “Alex?” she called softly.

  He turned around in his chair and his glance met hers. He seemed hurt, somehow, and turned back to the lamp and began working on it again.

  Alex was sulky at dinner and still refused to talk to her, but Samantha was curious about the name he’d mistakenly called her. She forced him into conversation.

  “Who was Jennie, Alex?” she asked, trying hard to sound casual.

  “She was my wife for three years.”

  “Yeah? What happened to her?”

  Exasperated, he sighed heavily and glared across the table at her.

  “If you must know, she cheated on me with the UPS man, so I left her.”

  Samantha thinking of their own UPS man, a huge, overweight Samoan, stifled a giggle. But it sounded so absurdly hackneyed and improbable that, despite herself, she burst into laughter, unable to stop herself.

  Chapter 10

  “The UPS man?”

  Alex’s brow darkened as he stared at her, yet she continued to laugh.

  “Hah. The UPS man.”

  She flung back her head and laughed aloud.

  “Oh, is this funny to you?” he asked sarcastically.

  “Yeah, it’s funny. It’s got to be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard of. Who the hell sleeps with the UPS man in real life?”

  She slapped the table, still chuckling.

  “My whore of an ex-wife,” he told her curtly, flinging down his napkin. He scraped back his chair and rose all of a sudden. “And why is that funny? It’s no funnier than you flirting with that smart-ass little surfer back at the café, Jennie.”

  “My name’s Samantha,” she shouted back.

  He glared at her for a long moment, and then he stalked off to his room without so much as a backward glance. She heard him slam himself inside and could hear him banging around in there.

  A few minutes later, he emerged, carrying a small travel bag.

  Samantha climbed to her feet when she saw it, but he paid no attention to her pain. Instead, he swept through the kitchen and went straight to the back door, flinging it open so hard he nearly shattered the glass window.

  “Albert,” he screamed out the open door, no clear idea where his servant was at the time. “Albert. Albert. Come here.”

  Albert, long accustomed to his employer’s freakish ways, dropped whatever he was doing and came running.

  “Mr. Alex? You call me?”

  He nodded abruptly.

  “Go and get the Jeep, will you? I’m flying to Honolulu.”

  Having said that, he turned to Samantha to gauge her reaction, a look of mingled triumph and pity on his face.

  She must have paled considerably, for he set the bag down and rushed to her side. Truth be told, she did feel faint, and she allowed him to ease her into a chair.

  “Why?” she asked him. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  He kissed her hand tenderly, respectfully.

  “I’m old enough to be your father, Samantha.”

  She bolted from the chair, revolted.

  “Ewww. No, you’re not, Alex. My father’s old, and...and he has a beer belly and he bitches about the government and...and...and he’s old.”

  “Well I am old enough.”

  “Well maybe, but just barely,” she conceded. “Please, Alex, don’t do this to me. Please don’t go. Don’t turn your back on me, please. I’m...I’m lonely, Alex. I’m not used to this kind of solitude. Please.”

  “It’ll be all right, Samantha. I just need to get away for a few days and think things through.”

  “I’m sorry,” she went on. “I know I shouldn’t have laughed. I know I’m a real pain in the ass sometimes, and I know I talk too much, but you can’t leave me here alone, Alex. I can’t take it.”

  “I could love you, Samantha,” he confessed in a sad voice. “I could love you if I could leave my pain behind.”

  With that, she heard the crunch of pea gravel under the wheels as the Jeep pulled up to the back door. Alex got up, retrieved his bag, and then he went out to the car. Seconds later, she heard them pull away.

  Once he was gone, she went to her room and crawled in bed, deeply depressed and unable to even muster up the strength to eat dinner that night. She did manage to choke down the cup of tea Grandma made for her, but couldn’t stomach the idea of solid food.

  She lay there the next morning, knowing she had to get up. At last, near noon, she put herself on auto-pilot and forced herself from the bed, wishing it were possible to unwind her life and go back to the way it used to be before she met Alex.

  Nothing in her experience had ever hurt so badly, not even her break-up with Randy. And, of course, it was impossible for her to wind back the clock, so she convinced herself to be strong, to cope with her loss and get on with her life.

  The fourth day after he’d gone, after she really gave up all hope and was tempted to arrange for a flight back to Los Angeles, she heard the phone ringing off in the distance, but was far too busy organizing the study to pay any attention to it.

  Suddenly, Grandma stuck her head in the door to let Samantha know there was a call for her. Still feeling weak and listless, she summoned up the strength to drag herself from her task, assuming it was her mother calling.

  She made her way to the kitchen and picked up the receiver.

  “Yes?”

  To her surprise, Alex’s soft voice came over the line, and he sounded so contrite she couldn’t bring herself to repel him, although she couldn’t think of a single word to say to him.

  “Samantha?”

  She swallowed hard, her mind racing way ahead of her emotions, wondering if she was about to be given her pink slip.


  “Yes, Alex?” she asked fearfully.

  “Samantha? I...I’m in Waikiki, at the condo.”

  There was a long pause as her heart hammered loudly in her chest.

  Oh, what can this mean? she asked herself, fighting to stay calm.

  “Okay.”

  When he spoke again, he sounded so heartbreakingly humble she knew she couldn’t possibly withstand him.

  “I...I was wondering if you could come over and join me.”

  Her pulse quickened, and though she wasn’t sure she heard him correctly, she felt hopeful and clutched the phone tightly in her hand.

  “You mean you want me to fly over, Alex? To Waikiki?”

  “Yes. Yes, Samantha. Please.”

  There was another long pause as she drew in a breath and let his words sink in.

  She thought about what he was asking and, moved almost to tears by the remorseful tone of his voice, stood there with a lump in her throat.

  “Are you still there, Samantha?” he asked fearfully, awaiting her response.

  Propelled into action, she nodded, then realized he couldn’t possibly see her.

  “Yes, Alex,” she told him. “I’ll come, if you really want me to.”

  “I do, sweetheart.”

  Once she assented, he instructed her to have Albert take her to the airport, that he’d have a plane ticket waiting for her there. He told her he’d meet her on the other side, and then he rang off before she could change her mind.

  Samantha, too, hung up the phone, feeling a little dazed.

  She caught Grandma’s eye for a second, but the old woman turned back to her work, hiding a knowing smile from her.

  “Mr. Alex is a good man,” she said, her voice pitched low. “You go to him, Missy Samantha.”

  Emboldened by Grandma’s words, Samantha rushed to her room at once and flung open her closet doors.

  Knowing she had to look perfect for their reunion, knowing she had to make Alex realize he’d made the right decision to be with her, she carefully selected her outfit for the plane.

  She gingerly removed a crisp white linen blouse from its padded hanger and laid it gently on the bed.

  It was perfectly starched blouse (although no one wore a starched blouse that she knew of, but what the hell?) that made her look sweetly feminine and demure.

  She then selected a beige skirt, something just a bit above the knee and fairly wrinkle-resistant for the airplane ride.

  Moving over to the dresser, Samantha opened her stocking drawer.

  There, nestled gently in the corner, lay an expensive, never-worn pink lace garter belt. She plucked it from the drawer and found the silk stockings, still packaged, to go with it.

  There were panties and a bra to match, of course. She’d bought all this in anticipation of her honeymoon with Randy.

  Samantha hurriedly flung her best bathing suit and the two nicest outfits she owned into her carry-on bag and sailed into the shower.

  Three-quarters of an hour later, her hair and makeup done to perfection, Samantha called for Grandma to summon Albert with the Jeep.

  She quickly straightened her skirt and blouse. One last look in the mirror and she was satisfied. The cold, hard glass was kind to her. It sent back the reflection of a mature and stylish young woman, the equal to any man, even to Alex P. Shannon.

  Good, she thought, satisfied. Let him forget the difference in our ages.

  After the plane set down, Samantha made her way across the tarmac, her carry-on bag slung over her shoulder. She walked as regally as she could and took her sweet time crossing the pavement, making him wait.

  She saw him through the wide-open glass, anxiously awaiting her arrival, looking meek and shy and penitent. As she came through the doors, Alex, apparently seized by impatience, whisked the bag from her shoulder and took her small burden on himself.

  Without warning, he threw his arms around her and set his fierce lips to claim her. When he was done, Samantha’s little pink tongue darted from her mouth to lick her lips.

  She glanced around the airport waiting room, speechless. And since they stood right in the middle of the entrance, people stopped to stare.

  “They’re all looking,” she whispered urgently in his ear.

  “Who gives a damn?”

  “Uhm...okay? But are you sure you want to start signing autographs, Jesse?”

  Stiffening, he sighed, resigned to his fate, and moved a little bit away from her.

  “Oh yeah,” he told her. “I forgot.”

  He drew her off to the side, but finding her so close to him, he was barely able to restrain himself a moment longer. Alex kissed her again, this time more tenderly but with no less passion.

  “Come on,” he said at last, seizing her hand. “I got us a car. Is it just this one bag?”

  Samantha nodded and Alex escorted her from the terminal. He handed her into the car and went around to get in himself. She kept quiet as he pulled away from the curb.

  Noticing her silence, he briefly took his eyes off the road.

  “I’ve never been particularly brilliant with women,” he told her suddenly. “I’ve made lots of mistakes in my time. Most of them with you.”

  She turned to gaze at him and he sighed, realizing his words weren’t coming out right. He started again.

  “Oh, God, that’s not what I meant at all. I meant about you, about my feelings for you.

  “What I mean is, you’re not like most of the women I’ve ever met, Samantha. You’re better. And much more innocent. I mean, I’m no pervert, but I’ve aged pretty well, I guess, and I’ve been out with plenty of girls your age, but they were always a whole lot more jaded than you are. Plus, I’m not one to take advantage, especially of my employees. Especially when they’re two thousand miles away from anybody they know.”

  “And I’m not some head case with an Oedipus complex, Alex. I don’t know why I love you...”

  Her voice trailed off and she clenched her jaw, realizing, maybe, that she’d tipped her hand already, had said too much.

  May as well finish, then.

  “I don’t know why I love you, Alex, but I do.”

  “All the more reason to behave myself, Samantha. All the more reason to leave you alone.”

  He had a soft way of pronouncing her name that melted her heart, and she shut her eyes tight, suddenly unsure where the conversation was leading.

  “I can appreciate that, Alex, but I’m not deluded, I’m really not. I understand what I’m doing, and I’m a grown woman, no matter what my age. And I know you think I’m naïve, but I promise you, I can handle this. I can handle this. So stop trying to protect me, okay?”

  “All right, Samantha. All right.”

  “I’m really sorry about Jennie, Alex. I’m sorry about Jennie and the UPS man.”

  Stopping at a traffic signal underneath Nimitz Highway, he glanced at her again and saw the pain in her eyes, saw how deeply he’d hurt her by running off.

  “I’m sorry, too, Samantha. I hope I haven’t been too unbearable.”

  Meeting his gaze, she found she couldn’t lie to him.

  “You have, though,” she told him. “You’ve been so moody and mean. How could you leave me there like that?”

  He didn’t answer. The light changed again and he was forced to proceed forward.

  “You’ve ignored me, Alex” she continued. “You’ve treated me like a possession, and you’ve teased me, only to reject me the first chance you got. And if you’re teasing me now, so help me God - ”

  “I’m not,” he broke in. “Please, Samantha, you’ve got to trust me this time. Give me a chance and I swear I’ll make it all up to you.”

  He sounded so contrite that her anger died away. Leaning back against the headrest, Sam
antha closed her mouth, feeling vindicated.

  She’d give him his chance.

  They sat outside together in the sultry night air, the heavy perfume from the plumeria trees wafting through the air, stronger now in the coolness of the evening. Torches burned all around them and a colorful waterfall splashed merrily nearby, all rigged out for the tourists, but Samantha didn’t mind for one minute. In fact she loved it all, loved everything about it, and never wanted to give it up.

  Feeling intoxicated, although she’d yet to drink even a single drop of alcohol, Samantha breathed in the sweet night air, her heart soaring.

  Hawaii was such a different place at night, she realized. It was more romantic and had a whole different vibe than it did in the daytime.

  If it was up to her, neither of them would ever have to face the day again. They’d live in the sweet splendor of the night forever, and never have to deal with the boring, work-a-day world again, as long as they lived.

  That, of course, was nothing but a fantasy, but as she glanced across the table at Alex, she found he shared her mood, was grinning elatedly, seemingly unable to believe his own good fortune.

  She smiled back at him and he reached into his jacket to whip out a long, velvet-covered box.

  Not a ring box, she observed, but certainly from a jeweler.

  “I want you to have this,” he said quietly, sliding it across the table to her. She picked it up reverently and opened it up with a gasp.

  Inside lay a beautiful string of pearls and she plucked them eagerly from their case, holding them up in the dim torchlight.

  “Oh, Alex, I love pearls,” she said.

  Before she knew it, he rose from his seat and came up behind her to fasten the pearls about her slender throat. When he was done, he bent down and kissed Samantha’s cheek, then her neck, sending chills through her entire body. Her hand shot up and she curled her fingers over his ear. Turning her face to his, she let Alex kiss her deeply, his tongue probing her mouth, his breath fresh and clean.

  Before long, the waiter was back, clearing his throat to get their attention. Alex went back to his seat and waited while the waiter set down their dinners. They ate in hushed anticipation, and after the meal, Samantha strolled back to the condo with him, neither of them in a big hurry, both satisfied to savor their new love.