The Sea of Aaron (8 page)

Valerie didn't want to plan anything. Just hanging out and being able to keep tabs on him was good enough, but if she did that she'd probably be intruding on his space and wear out her welcome.

“Maybe I'll take one of the tours,” she said. “Cave tubing sounds like fun.”

“Cave tubing?” Aaron repeated. “Do you know what's involved with that?”

She laughed at his raised eyebrows. “It involves floating down a river through underwater caves in an inner tube. I've read the brochure, and I really do have a spirit of adventure. Surely you're not taking me to be all prim, proper and civilized?”

Aaron smirked. “Civilized, maybe, but prim is hardly how I'd define you.”

Not quite sure how she should take his remark, Valerie traced a finger over the rim of her wine glass. “How
do
you define me?” Uh-oh. Why did she ask that? She wasn't ready to hear what he might say.

“As a woman who definitely knows what she wants, but isn't quite convinced that she should be desiring such things. A woman who has spent most of her life struggling to conform to values society has placed upon her, and—”

“Stop,” Valerie said, pushing the wine glass aside. “I know it's my fault. I asked you, but I'm just not…not in the mood to look at myself in the mirror.”

He shrugged, still maintaining the disarmingly direct eye contact. “Well, if cave tubing is what you want to do, make sure you go with Danny Perez. I'll give him a call when we get back to the inn.”

Incredible. In just a few seconds and with just a few words, the man had laid her out under the microscope, seen the core of her inner drama, and without missing a cue had zeroed back in on their initial mundane conversation.
Okay,
she thought,
so be it. I can play this game, too.

“Danny Perez is a friend of yours?”

“Yes. More accurately, he's a friend of my son. He runs the best and safest tour group.”

Always looking out for my safety.
If he had been any other man, his protectiveness would have been irritating, but coming from him she felt irrationally flattered that she warranted his concern.

She wanted to ask him more about his son, but if she were to do that it would sound like prying and he might turn the conversation back to his assessment of her. She simply did not want to mess up the little bit of headway she had made with him regarding his health issues. Maybe when he was completely well, they'd get to have a more in-depth conversation.

When they were finished eating, Aaron paid the bill, as he had done on previous outings, dismissing her offer to do it. He was so traditional in that he always opened doors and pulled out chairs for her, and even though his countenance reflected stoicism and aloofness, he always said please and thank you to service people and tipped well.

***

Darkness had settled as they returned to the inn. Aaron needed to go back to the ship to get some things, but he decided they could wait for the morning. The clinic doctor had given him a shot and, between that and the wine, he felt sluggish and not in the mood for the hassle. He was content to just call it a night.

As he unlocked the door to his room, he glanced over his shoulder at Valerie and realized that he would be even more content to end the night with her in his room, in his bed.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” she said, hesitating ever so slightly before moving to her room.

“
Lailah tov,
” he said in Hebrew. And they both made long, distinct, deliberate eye contact—both sharing the same thought, yet neither willing to admit it.

Valerie woke with a start and on her way to the shower, noticed a note under her door. Frowning apprehensively, she picked it up, wondering what Aaron had pulled on her this time. He could very well be on a plane halfway around the world while she had been sleeping.

She was relieved when she read that he had gone out to
Saniyah II
to get some supplies and would be back shortly. He also mentioned that he had contacted the Perez tour guy, who would be expecting her at the port in Belize City by nine o'clock, which gave her roughly two hours. The water taxi from Caye Caulker took almost forty-five minutes. She would have to hurry.

By the time she'd showered, managed her hair into an upswept ponytail, dressed in casual shorts and sneakers, and packed a swimsuit, she was just about ready; she would be completely ready if she weren't worried about Aaron. She desperately wanted to see him before leaving and would be furious if he decided to remain on the boat.

“Valerie.” His voice sounded outside the door.

Good man.

She opened the door. He stood there in a black T-shirt and olive-colored khakis, looking much more rested than he had the day before.

“I see you got my note,” he said, appraising her in the obvious way only a man could. “Make sure you bring along the insect repellant and use it liberally. There have been cases of malaria in the rainforest areas.”

“I have it,” she answered, resisting the urge to salute and say
yes, sir
.

“Whenever you're ready,” he said.

She looked at him, momentarily confused. “What do you mean? You're not going…”

“On the tour, no. I'm taking you on the boat to Belize City to meet with the group.”

“No. I don't
want
you to do that. I'm going to get the water taxi and you're going to spend the day right here on Caye Caulker in peace and quiet.”

“But…”

“Oh, no, you don't.” Her voice rose. “We had an understanding last night, and if you don't agree to do what I asked, then I'm not—”

He placed his finger lightly over her lips, silencing her. “Go get the water taxi,” he said. And at the same time, his free hand went around her waist, drawing her close to him. Mesmerized, she didn't object, and as his finger trailed away from her mouth to trace the contours of her neck, he tilted his head down and kissed her, slowly, provocatively, almost indolently, on the mouth.

Don't stop. Don't stop,
her heart cried out while her face flushed and her legs turned to jelly. But her hands went up, first sliding across his chest, and then planting themselves firmly there as a barrier. “Umm, Aaron, you're going to make me miss my connection.”

“I'll give you a better connection.”

“Aaron, please.” Talk about lust; she even loved saying his name.

“Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it as much as I did,” he stated huskily, releasing his grip, the wry, almost smug expression back on his face.

She had no response. What could she say to the obvious? Her reason for still being in Belize was because, God help her, she cared about him, maybe even loved him, but she was not there to make love to him—certainly not senselessly, without knowledge, trust, or commitment.

“Did you take your medicine yet?” she asked abruptly.
Now how sexy was that?

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied, amused.

“The doctor said he would call you in the afternoon to give you the test results. Make sure you get that call and…”

“Valerie, go. Have a good time.”

***

Cave tubing was more fun than Valerie had expected. Danny Perez and the four other guides leading their party of twenty, consisting of couples, kids, and senior citizens, were above and beyond accommodating. The young Mayan knew his job, and he was an expert on the environment.

After a trek through the rainforest and the guided float through the caves, everyone was taken by bus to the Sonrisa Bar & Grill for a buffet lunch. The lunch proved even more interesting for Valerie, who had selected a lone table near a window.

Danny, who was short, sturdy, and very Mayan in appearance with a long black ponytail, came over to where she was and wanted to know if she'd had a good time. She told him she had and then he sat opposite from her and started to talk, telling her that she was a special guest because she was Aaron's friend.

“How did you get to know Aaron?” Valerie asked.

“I first met Mr. Weiss when both his son and me were fourteen and I liked hanging around the docks watching the ships come and go. That summer I fell in love with a schooner called
Saniyah
.”

Valerie agreed that the boat was still beautiful and waited for him to continue the story.

“
Saniyah
was in port and I met Drew on the docks. Thought he was this rich, snooty American kid, but he turned out to be different. He told me he was spending the summer sailing with his dad, and since I was so crazy about the boat, he invited me onboard to look around.” Danny smiled reflectively. “Talk about an awesome experience for a poor kid living in the ghetto section of Belize City. I also got to meet the captain.”

“Captain?” Valerie said.

Danny grinned. “Drew used to call his dad Captain 'cause the dude always has this cool, kind of commanding look.”

Valerie laughed in spite of herself. “Tell me about it.”

“Turns out he wasn't the kind of father who tells his kid not to hang out with certain types, so Drew and me got to be really good friends—so good that when they were going to sail out to Costa Rica, the Captain went to my place and asked my mom if I could go with them.”

“Did she let you?”

“Yeah. No one cared what I did. My folks were poor, and I was just another mouth to feed. Anyway, I had the time of my life on that cruise. Even got to be second mate, working on the ship right along with Drew and his father like I was part of their family.”

Valerie's eyes narrowed. “Was Drew's mother ever around?”

“No. Drew had a stepfather. He told me that his mother and the Captain were never married.”

Valerie breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. Danny had confirmed the truthfulness of Aaron's statement regarding his past. Even better was the revelation that Drew's mother was married to someone else.

“We went to Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica,” Danny continued. “I learned a lot about sailing, and so much stuff it would take all night to tell the stories.” He glanced upward. “Drew and me did get into trouble sometimes, too.”

“What kind of trouble?” she asked.

“One night the Captain had some business in Costa Rica and Drew and me knew he wouldn't be back for a while, so we decided to take the ship out to a nearby port so we could meet with a bunch of girls.” He chuckled. “Real stupid on my part 'cause the girls always wanted Drew, not me. Anyway, we had these fake IDs and we went to this bar pretending we were eighteen and we got totally smashed. Worst part came when we tried to sail back drunk.
Saniyah
ran aground on some rocks and was damaged.”

Valerie shook her head in dismay. “That was a
terrible
thing to do. You both could have been killed.”

“Yeah, it was bad. The Captain, man, he was pissed and blamed it all on Drew, even though I said it was my fault, too. They got into this really big row about drinking and being irresponsible. Drew was kinda angry anyway on account of some family stuff that made no sense to me. But you know, you get stupid sometimes when you're fourteen.

Anyway, he started cursing and throwing things and calling his father an evil bastard. Got all crazy like, and the Captain hit him, knocked him clean across the deck like he weighed two pounds.” Danny laughed. “You know Captain's a big dude, but Drew wasn't no little kid, either. He was at least six feet at fourteen.”

Valerie flinched, not liking the sound of what she'd heard. “Aaron hit his son?”

“Yeah, but not with his fist. More like open-handed, and Drew asked for it. I mean, I would've never talked to my father like that, and my old man wasn't worth crap.” Danny laughed again. “Turns out it wasn't no big deal, though, 'cause next morning they both acted like it never happened and Drew and me did all the repairs on the ship ourselves.”

Men,
Valerie thought. The mental picture of Aaron really incensed and smacking his son wasn't something she'd care to witness for real, though. Of course, Danny could have exaggerated.

“I was disappointed they didn't come back the next summer,” Danny said. “Didn't see them again for two years, and by then my whole life had gone down the tubes and my old man got killed in a car accident.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Valerie said softly.

“He was drunk,” Danny added wryly. “Soon after that I quit school and started hangin' out with guys selling drugs. I got arrested and went to jail for a year. When I got out, no one would hire me, so I started getting in trouble again. Then Drew and his dad came back. Drew looked me up, and the Captain told me I had to turn things around and if I was willing to work and go back to school, he'd help me out. That's when I found out that he owned Avian International, and he got me a job as a freight handler at the airport. He paid me more than I was worth, but that opportunity saved my life.”

Valerie liked that part. It felt good to hear confirmation that Aaron wasn't as stone cold as people seemed to think. “So obviously you didn't remain at the airport. What happened next?”

“On weekends, Drew and me and our girlfriends would go hiking through the rainforest and canoeing on the river. We started inviting the cruise ship tourists along…taking them out to the caves and all that stuff. The tourists loved it and were willing to pay.”

“Nice,” Valerie said. “And this was something you actually enjoyed doing.”

“Yeah. And since Belize is my country and a lot of its economy is from tourism, the Captain said I could probably make a living doing this, and I liked the idea. He then taught me a lot of important stuff about running a business, and he loaned me the capital to get started. I also ended up studying about Mayan culture and ecology, which was tough, but worth it. Now I'm sort of known as an environmental expert and I've got two of my brothers and ten people working for me.” He smiled. “Business is good.”

“Sounds like you've got a lot to be proud of,” Valerie said.

Danny was about to say something else when someone called him. He excused himself, rose slowly, and flashed a crooked smile. “Don't ever let anyone tell you differently. The Captain is a good man, the best.” His eyes twinkled. “And just in case you happen to be his girlfriend, don't let the tough guy, I-don't-need-nobody bull scare you off.”

Way too late for that advice,
she thought wryly. She felt more attracted to Aaron than ever and scared, not of him, but of what she might do if she kept seeing him.

***

Cadmium orange, yellow, a mixture of burnt umber, and purple. Aaron preferred acrylic paint to oil these days because it wasn't as messy. Shirtless, wearing only a pair of shredded jeans, he stood on the terrace of his former room, now Valerie's, and stepped back to study the canvas. The beach at dusk had not taken long to create at all. He had capitalized on the present Belizean sunset, a mélange of smoky mauve and red fire, but the darkened sandy shore he'd created from his head, since there was no significant beachfront on Caye Caulker.

The painting seemed to have almost conceived itself, and as he studied it he realized there was an aberration apparent in the silhouetted form of a lone woman strolling by the sea. Normally he did not paint people—preferring vast landscapes undefiled by human bodies—but this subliminally sketched woman was not disturbing or defiling anything. This shadow of a female who distinctly reflected Valerie's proportions blended right in with the landscape, accepting her environment and her solitude.

He sat down on the edge of the lounge chair and rubbed his eyes. There had been only one other time he had painted a woman, a girl actually, and that was when both of their lives had been driven by youthful passion and no foreknowledge of what tragedy lay ahead.

Slowly the room and the painting blurred into a kaleidoscope of muted shadows and light, careening wildly through days, and months, and decades—decades that led to the memory of a more recent lover, a self-assured, auburn-haired beauty named Tara, who'd been an undercover agent with the CIA. He hadn't seen her die. He'd been spared that one. Her end had come in a remote area of Afghanistan when a rogue agent had blown her cover. That loss had been felt, but not as deeply as the first. Unlike the first, Tara had not been innocent. She'd known the game, played it, and lost.

Where had the years gone? Had they raced desperately down teeming cobbled streets, dodged sirens and staccato gunfire, bled onto the shore, and been washed away by the sea? Had their passing been properly wailed at the ancient wall in Jerusalem, or had they simply been ignored, forgotten, and blown away like chaff in the wind?

Aaron rose slowly and removed the drying canvas from the easel. Valerie would probably be back at any moment, and it would be in both of their best interests if they maintained a measure of distance—not miles apart, but enough so human nature wouldn't get out of control and they wouldn't end up doing something he definitely wanted, but neither of them intended. He carried the painting and some of the equipment back to his room.

He had gotten confirmation from the clinic doctor that he had developed an infection, but it had been caught in the early phase and all he had to do was continue the antibiotics and avoid strenuous activities.

A half hour after he had reclaimed his own meager space, there was a knock on the door. Aaron pulled a T-shirt on, resisted the urge to pick up his Berretta, and placed a hand on the doorknob. “Who is it?”