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.

He looked so peaceful and childlike, she hadn’t the heart to disturb him, so she backed quietly from the room and pulled the door to without a sound. She decided instead to quietly explore her new surroundings.

She went to the door next to Alex’s room and opened it. This room was evidently Alex’s study, as there were heavy wooden filing cabinets flanking a huge mahogany desk. At the far end of the room there sat another, smaller desk placed before a window. The smaller desk was devoid of any ornaments, so she guessed this must be her desk and went over to it.

Sitting down on the chair, Samantha tested it out by swiveling around in it; then she toyed with the pneumatic adjustment until the chair was in her preferred position. After that, she opened each of the drawers, but found nothing of much interest inside them, merely the usual assortment of office supplies. She pulled the stapler out of the top drawer and set it on the desktop, pleased to have her own workspace and glad it was in the same room as Alex’s.

Getting up, she decided to check out the library, which lay next to the study, but there was no connecting door, so she had to go back out through the study and into the living room.

This was the first time she really got a good look at it. It was all lit up in the golden morning sun, with many windows that could be thrown open to the cooling trade winds.

She fell in love at once with the casual opulence of Alex’s house, and glancing across the room quite by chance, she saw him standing in the doorway of her new and as yet unslept-in bedroom, a drowsy grin on his face.

Her own lips parted in a delighted smile

“Good morning,” she said brightly, coming near him. “How’s that bed of mine?”

“Fine.”

“I was just looking around a little. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. It’s your home, too.”

Her lips twitched upwards and she boldly crossed the room, tugging him back into her bedroom.

“Come and look,” she insisted, leading him first into the sitting room.

“Here are some pillows I made last fall when I still thought I might be getting married,” she told him, picking up one of the needlepoint pillows, remembering with fondness how she’d worked each stitch.

She glanced up at Alex, trying to read his expression.

“This is my tea set,” she continued, moving over to one of the shelves in the bookcase. “My parents got it for me on their vacation to Monterey Bay. I love tea.”

Again their glances met and Alex came closer, lifting a lock of her hair to his nose and breathing in its scent.

“The night I met you, your hair smelled like roses. Do you still have that shampoo?”

“I don’t use it all the time,” she explained. “It’s kind of expensive.”

“Come here,” he said, leading her into the bathroom. He opened a cupboard and withdrew several bottles of the rose-scented shampoo. Peering around his shoulder, Samantha saw that the cupboard was also stocked with rose-scented body lotion and some bubble bath of the same type.

She didn’t know what to say, so she just thanked him and promised to make good use of his shampoo. Secretly, though, she was thrilled he noticed, unused to this kind of male attention. She found her pulse was racing the way it had after her jump into that rock pool on Oahu. She began to understand that maybe it was he who made her pulse race and her heart beat so wildly.

“Will you have dinner with me, here in my room?” she asked him.

“Dinner?”

“I want to do something nice for you now.”

Alex agreed and Samantha accompanied him outside to see the rest of the place.

“Let me give you a tour of the gardens,” he said, and they strolled together down the steps. He opened a wrought-iron gate and Samantha followed him into a walled vegetable garden.

“We always had a kitchen garden when I was a kid,” he told her. “I’m growing most of the stuff I need, but naturally, some plants bolt too quickly because of the heat. Like, I can’t grow cabbage.”

He led the way down a neat row, showing Samantha the herbs.

“Come out here and help yourself to anything you want,” he told her. “I mean inside the house, too. I have an excellent wine cellar and tons of books in the library.”

They left the vegetables and went out the gate, down a brick path lined with mock orange, then flanked behind by pretty scarlet hibiscus bushes.

“Wait ’til you see the rose garden,” he said, an enormous smile of pride on his face. The brick path turned onto a larger one, bordered on either side by well-pruned rose bushes. Samantha saw a rectangular pond ahead, brilliant coral-colored water lilies floating on the water’s surface. Beyond that lay a pergola built from heavy wooden pilings and covered by lush, fragrant climbing roses.

Just then, a sudden movement beneath the pergola caught Samantha’s attention. She stared in fascination as a doe shyly emerged from the roses, a sweet little baby fawn trailing after her.

Enchanted, Samantha ran ahead of Alex like a little girl. The deer fled, terrified, and she whirled around when she reached the boundary of the pond.

“You never told me about the deer,” she exclaimed, amazed. “It’s just like something out of a Fragonard painting.”

Alex joined her, taking her by the hand. They stepped into the shade of the pergola and sat down on a stone bench.

“I love it here,” he agreed. “I often come here to write.”

“What’s that over there?” she asked, pointing to a brick terrace adjoining the house.

“The pool and the hot tub are over there, then my bedroom. Come on, I’ll show you where Albert and Mrs. K. live.”

Behind the main house, about a hundred yards away, lay a small cottage. As they started down the flagstone path, Grandma emerged from her door.

“Good morning, Mr. Alex. Good morning, Missy Samantha.”

She accompanied them back to the main house and the three of them entered through the kitchen. It seemed to Samantha that nearly every room in the house must open onto the gardens. Alex left the women alone to get acquainted.

“I’ll make dinner for Mr. Alex tonight, okay, Grandma? You deserve a break.”

The woman showed Samantha the pantry and together they went through it, Samantha trying to decide what to make for dinner. In the end, she chose two Cornish hens she found in the freezer and went through the pantry again to decide on the side dishes. Mrs. K. was an excellent housekeeper and kept her pantry well stocked. Samantha had no trouble at all finding the necessary ingredients for a special meal.

Grandma left the hens in the sink to defrost and Samantha went to her room to arrange a table and chairs, tablecloth and wineglasses, and a vase for the flowers she meant to gather.

“Does Mr. Alex have any silver?” she asked Grandma, who led her to the butler’s pantry and showed her where the silver was stored. Samantha also found some pretty cutwork napkins and a lovely ceramic platter for her hens and brought all these items into her sitting room.

She set up the small table between the two upholstered chairs and started laying out the dishes, as her mother had taught her to years ago. Once this was done, she went outside to pick some roses for the cut crystal vase she set in the center of the table.

Samantha saw Alex off in the distance with Albert and glanced quickly at her watch. It was almost time for dinner, and she glanced in his direction again. He was still occupied, and she hoped with all her heart he hadn’t forgotten their assignation.

Just in case he did happen to remember, she rushed back into the kitchen, hurriedly arranging the roses in the vase. She then set up the dinner tray, carrying it to her room.

Soon, a knock at the door alerted her to her visitor’s arrival, and sucking in a breath, she crossed the room with great pride and swung the doors wide to receive her guest.

Alex stood silhouetted in the doorway, dressed in a short-sleeved black silk shirt that played up his rich golden tan.

Samantha, thunderstruck, allowed her eyes to wander, let herself bask in admiration of the sweetness of his mouth, the muscled shoulders beneath the silk, the fit of his trousers.

Her glance met his again and her mouth twitched in a sudden smile. She felt more strongly attracted to him than ever.

“Wow, Alex. You look...devastating.”