Tina was perched on the edge of her seat, her body turned to take in every expression on Rachel’s face. Her eyes darted with excitement while she listened to Rachel recount the events of the previous evening with Alain. Breakfast had been a lengthy, torturous affair, but finally, they were alone and free to speak in private.
“And that’s all you know about him — he owns a yacht, and trades in wine?”
“We talked about other things too,” Rachel defended weakly. “Besides, I didn’t want to get into my horrible history with Stuart.”
“But you obviously had a good time,” Tina probed, her unrelenting eyes searching Rachel’s face.
“Yes, I had a great evening, thanks.” She tried to brush over the details, but the lingering smile remained on Tina’s face. Almost ten years as best friends would do that. She simply couldn’t hide anything from Tina.
“And?” Tina left it hanging.
“Well, you know … we went to his yacht, met some of his friends. A couple of drinks, and — ”
“And?” Tina persisted.
Rachel exhaled and nodded. “And yes, we kissed.”
“I knew it,” Tina exclaimed, clasping a hand over her wide smile in excitement. “Where?”
“On his yacht,” she responded, capitulating without much further resistance. “Alain showed me around, and we ended up in the stateroom.”
Tina nodded, eager to hear the rest.
“It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, Tina,” she continued. She ran a hand down her arm, from her shoulder to her wrist, and continued in a softer tone, “Look, I still get goose bumps just thinking about it.”
“Yes, and about time you had some fun too — and thank heavens he seems to know how to kiss a woman.”
A soft glow came to her cheeks. “Yes, he certainly knows how to kiss. But it’s more than that. I don’t know if I’m ready for this … ” Her voice trailed off.
“Nonsense,” Tina replied with vigor. “You’ve been hiding from men for too long. Just enjoy it — no strings attached.”
“But that’s just the problem, Tina.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think it is more than just fun for me. I could easily fall in love with him.”
“He should be so lucky,” Tina tried to keep it light, but Rachel noted the dark concern that clouded her friend’s eyes. Ever since Stuart deserted her, Tina’s been rather protective.
After disappearing from her life, Stuart vanished in the vastness of Africa. His assignments took him to the remotest of places on that wild continent, and her letters and emails went unanswered.
A year had passed before Rachel finally decided to file for divorce. But Stuart’s disappearance had made the process tedious — and expensive. It had been more than three years since that dreadful day when Stuart had abandoned them — and almost four months since the last communication with him. Letters from Rachel’s lawyer were returned, unopened and undelivered. Email messages unread.
The sudden sharp bark of a high performance engine screaming from the pit garages announced the true purpose of the weekend’s activities and shattered any further attempt to continue their conversation. With a little shriek of shock, Rachel and Tina hurriedly donned the foam earplugs Luke had provided to them earlier and focused their attention on the drama that was about to unfold in front of them. From their seats in the hotel’s garden terrace marquee, they enjoyed a close-up view of the track, and Rachel reeled at the crushing noise levels of the cars sweeping past them on the warm-up lap. She stared at Tina in disbelief and mouthed to her friend in the deafening din, “This is insane … ”
A frantic tension rippled through the crowd as throngs of excited fans, clad in the bright team colors of their heroes, eagerly took their seats in the stands. Nervous technicians scurried around, making their final adjustments in desperate attempts to satisfy the demands of the tense drivers seated in the body-hugging cockpits of their racing machines.
The instant the set of five red lights went out to start the race, the earsplitting noise of twenty-two racing machines exploded from the starting line. The noise reduced somewhat while the cars raced their way around the back of the track on the undulating, twisting streets. Then, like approaching thunder, the noise levels grew steadily stronger again, to explode with an insane crescendo when the cars flashed through the corner directly below their seats.
The noise and raw power of the brightly colored cars flashing past them was overwhelming. Luke joined them and Rachel turned to watch his lips as he relayed some critical information about his driver’s progress, but most of his words were swept away when another car screamed past them.
She abandoned her effort to understand what Luke was trying to communicate, sat back in her seat and started twirling a long lock of hair around her finger. She turned her gaze toward the harbor where she could clearly make out the tall, twin masts of Vintage. Her mind drifted to the events of the previous evening, and a soft smile lingered on her lips at the pleasant memory of the time spent with Alain.
“Alain.” She whispered the name, enjoying the sound of it. She frowned at the memory of her impulsive acceptance of his suggestion to go for a walk. As if that hadn’t been rash enough, she then joined him on his yacht — a man she hardly knew.
Yes, what was that, Rachel? she thought, but enjoyed the warm glow brought on by the memory of the evening’s events. Thinking back, she could not recall ever being so impulsive … so swept away by passion. She touched her lips at the memory of their fiery kiss on the yacht, and then warmth rushed to her cheeks when she recalled Marque’s untimely interruption.
The guests on his yacht must have included some of Alain’s closest and most trusted friends, but his relationship with Marque was different — deeper. The two men had been friends since kids, but something must have happened in their past — something that forged a strong bond between them — maybe a life-changing event.
A light quiver ran through her body as she recalled the wild passion of Alain’s embrace. She sat back with a deep sigh at the memory of his soft touch on her cheek, the gentle caress of his lips on her neck, their bodies melting together on the bed. Her hand lingered for a moment on her mouth, and she smiled at the thought of Alain’s sharp tug on her lip, urging her to let his tongue explore her mouth.
“Probably a good thing we got interrupted,” she murmured.
She hugged herself at the memory of Alain’s light linen jacket draped over her shoulders when they walked back. She’d felt safe within the warm, silky folds of the inner lining, relishing its manly smell.
At the hotel, he waited politely for her while she collected her room key, and then rode the elevator with her to her floor. It felt good being with him — so strong and self-assured, yet compassionate and gentle — so different from Stuart. Alain was the type of man she’d always wanted in her life. A man who understood himself — a man with passion. A man who would stand by his beliefs.
She shifted in her seat at recalling the disappointment of Alain bidding her a polite goodnight at her door. One kiss — that was all they had. She wanted more. More of the sensual sensation, now that the passion deep inside her had been stirred.
She lifted her gaze to the masts again and mumbled softly, “I’m sure there must be another woman,” and then more vehemently, “or women!” Alain’s lean, muscular body, good looks, and wealth left her with no doubt that he would have a long list of beautiful women in his life. She found herself wishing she had probed him on whether he was currently in any serious relationship. Suddenly agitated, she muttered, “You’ve just met the man, Rachel.”
She had a deep desire to see him again and regretted her decision not to join Alain and his friends on the yacht for the race. With a slight pang of guilt, she turned to face Tina on the seat next to her. “I love you,” she mouthed through the noise, and received a quick hug from her.
A loud crash and the sudden, deep inhale from the crowd made her glance up at the giant flat-screen monitor directly opposite the terrace. The slow-motion caption replayed the images of a dark blue, mangled wreck shooting from the tunnel into the bright sunlight, skidding out of control, to crash into a barrier. Two French TV commentators were frantically announcing the gravity of the crash. With relief, she watched the driver struggle from the wreck, but then inhaled with shock at recognizing Dominique when he removed his helmet and walked off to a safety marshal. He waved briefly to the crowd before he disappeared, and Rachel collapsed back in her seat and exhaled loudly.
Someone’s going to get killed. When will this madness ever end?