Never Too Late (9 page)

Letting out a
string of expletives, Jerry snatched his trousers off the floor and said,
"I don't know why the hell I thought this would work." He pulled on
his briefs, then shoved his legs into his trousers and said, while zipping his
fly, "You don't need to worry about me bothering you again. The urge is
completely gone." He threw his shirt over his shoulder, then swept open
the door and left, pulling the door sharply behind.

Andrea looked
at the closed door, angry with Jerry for demanding she
do her
duty
,
and with herself for ridiculing him, when she knew he had to be upset and
humiliated about his recent failures as a man, for whatever reason. The last
thing he needed was to be reminded of that fact.

And now he'd go
to Val. But the thought of Val getting him primed and ready, then acting on it,
bothered Andrea more than she cared to acknowledge. She was tempted to send a
message to Alessandro that she was no longer interested then decided she needed
a diversion to keep her mind off Jerry. But she wouldn't wear the sundress. Nor
would there be a good night kiss. Even the thought of that bothered her.

Having a
romantic fling seemed exciting when she started on the cruise and she couldn't
stand the sight of Jerry, but now, the thought of finding herself in bed with a
man other than Jerry was like venturing into unfamiliar territory. And the only
time she'd done that, during those sheltered years of growing up as the only
child of Barbara and Carter Ellison, was when she defied them both and ran off
to marry Jerry. Moving from a twenty-two-room mansion overlooking an estuary
into a two-room apartment with a view of a concrete playground was definitely
venturing into unfamiliar territory.

After slipping
into a pair of designer jeans, a modest knit top, and a plain brown jacket,
Andrea left to join Alessandro. Although she had a mindset against letting him
do anything physical tonight, with a week left to the cruise there was still
time to shed her inhibitions and see what romance in the fast lane would be
like. Jerry hadn't wasted time moving into the fast lane. Maybe that's what
bothered her most. After twenty-five years of loving him, and bearing his
children, and keeping him happy in bed, he had no problem shoving that aside
and welcoming another woman in her place. But she couldn't fault Jerry. She'd
been turning her back to him and feigning sleep for months.

Alessandro
welcomed her with a light kiss on her forehead. "Ah,
querida
," he said, taking her hand and drawing her into the
room. "You did come as promised. I hoped you would. But when you didn't
come as soon as you returned to the ship, I wondered if you'd had second
thoughts after spending an evening with your husband." He placed a kiss on
her palm and another on the flat of her wrist.

Andrea withdrew
her hand, and said, "My husband and I only celebrated our anniversary to
please our daughters, but it wasn't a good evening. I was so stressed out by it
my stomach was queasy and I could barely get the food down."

"Then you
must be hungry," Alessandro replied, gazing at her with those hooded,
bedroom eyes. "I'll send for room service, whatever you want."

"No,
please don't bother," Andrea said, waving a negative hand. "My
stomach's still in a knot. I just need to relax." The encounter with Jerry
was still fresh, the sight of his well-muscled, fully aroused male body, first
ready for her, then turning limp while he stared at her naked body, bothered
her even more now than when it happened. The thought that it would take more
than a face lift and liposuction and silicone implants, along with daily workouts
at the gym, for her to see that old glint of appreciation in Jerry's eyes made
her feel even less desirable than before. And maybe that's how it would end
with Alessandro. He'd strip off her clothes, and while she waited for him to
give her the sexual pleasure Jerry once had, he'd see her sagging breasts and
belly with its stretch marks, and he'd fulfill his gentlemanly obligation to
satisfy her sexual need then graciously send her on her way...

"Then you
can stretch out on the bed and make yourself comfortable," Alessandro
said, "I'll mix a drink that will calm your nerves, and we'll sit on the
bed and enjoy a movie, and a little cuddling. You promised me, remember?"

Andrea laughed
lightly, a nervous laugh to release her anxiety with the thought of cuddling
with Alessandro. "A drink would be nice," she said, "But maybe
we'll wait on the cuddling, if you don't mind. I'm not quite ready for
that."

"Like I
said,
querida
, I don't want to rush
you. Just relax."

Feeling vastly
relieved with Alessandro's assurance, Andrea hung her handbag on the back of a
chair, lowered herself to the bed, slipped off her shoes, and lounged against
the pillows that were propped against the headboard. And Alessandro went over
to a wet bar to mix their drinks.

Glancing over
his shoulder, he said, "The cocktail I'm mixing for you is made with
banana liqueur, rum, orange and pineapple juice, apricot brandy, and
Galliano." After measuring and adding the contents, he gave the mixture a
little stir, then handed her the glass.

While Andrea
slowly sipped, savoring the drink's fruity sweetness while enjoying the
creeping effects of the alcohol, Alessandro stretched out beside her on the
bed. "Yellow Bird, it's called," he said in a low, soft voice. A very
appealing smile touched his nice masculine lips. "A Yellow Bird for my
little South Carolina bird," he added, and gave her a little peck on the
cheek.

His little South Carolina bird
. How
sweet. Andrea took another sip, settled back and sighed. All the tension of the
day seemed to be vanishing with the drink, and for the first time in months,
she felt at ease. Not ready to strip off her clothes and roll around in bed
with Alessandro though, but maybe she'd consent to a little cuddling if only to
make her feel wanted, but not until after she'd finished the rest of the Yellow
Bird, to help her relax.

Alessandro sat
up, took one of her feet in his hand, and began to massage it. His palm curved
around her arch, and his thumb caressed her instep, as he said, in that
incredibly soothing Italian accent, "Relax,
cara mia
. Let the tension of the day with your husband go. He'll be
out of your life soon, and things will be fine."

"Yes,"
Andrea said lazily, the alcoholic drink finding its way down, warming her all
over,
making
her lethargic. "This is just what I
need. Thank you, Alessandro."

As Alessandro
massaged first one foot, then the other, the drink began to make Andrea drowsy,
and before long, her eyelids felt heavy. "You're tired,
querida
," he said. "Close your
eyes and let your worries go. And rest. Tomorrow, when we dock on Andros
Island, I'm taking you to a special place where only islanders go. A place for
lovers..."

"Umm..."
Andrea said, dreamily, "A place for lovers..."

***

Andrea
awakened, confused. When she sat up, a pain shot through her head, which felt
so heavy she wondered if her neck would be able to hold it up. And she realized
she had a hangover. It never occurred to her that having a drink with rum and
brandy and whatever Galliano was, on a near empty stomach, was a very bad idea,
especially for someone who rarely drank. But last night it was exactly what she
needed.

She glanced
around in the twilight of the stateroom then realized it was long past
twilight. Looking at the clock on the bedstand, she saw that it was four in the
morning. The bed was still made, and she was on top of the covers as she'd been
when she fell asleep, but Alessandro was gone. She couldn't imagine what he
must be thinking, his
querida
, his
little South Carolina bird, falling asleep. She clicked on the light on the
bedstand and saw a note pinned under the ash tray. Lifting it from the table,
she read:

You were very tired, querida, and I knew it
was best to let you sleep, but I am in the casino. I look forward to our
evening in Andros Town tomorrow, or perhaps it is tonight by now. I hope you
are rested, my little South Carolina bird. Until tonight then. Alessandro
.

Andrea folded
the note. She'd like to stay and apologize for falling asleep, but she wasn't
ready for Jerry and the rest of the passengers to know she'd spent the night in
Alessandro Cavallaro's stateroom, and what that implied.

Standing, she
waited a moment for the room to stop spinning,
then
straightened her clothes, slipped into her shoes, and reached for her handbag,
finding it on the seat of the chair, which gave her pause. She was sure she'd
hung it on the back of the chair. But then, the incident with Jerry before she
left to join Alessandro had been so upsetting, she barely remembered anything
once she stepped into Alessandro's stateroom and was welcomed by his warm
smile, and sincere eyes, and sweet little kiss. And after he handed her the
drink and began massaging her feet, everything just melted into bliss...

She sighed
dreamily while contemplating the evening ahead. Alessandro mentioned he'd be taking
her to a place for lovers, but she'd fallen asleep before he could tell her
anything about it. Although she was curious to know more, she'd wait and be
surprised. She liked the idea of Alessandro simply announcing that he'd be
taking her out, as if they were already lovers...

…gigolos are waiting to play you for all
you're worth...

She dismissed
Jerry's words. Alessandro was not that kind of man, she told herself, as she
let herself out of his stateroom.

She'd hoped to
find the passageway vacant at four in the morning, but when she opened the door
and peeked out, she saw a man at the far end of the passageway. She turned in
the opposite direction and headed towards her stateroom. Seeing light under the
door, she wondered what Val was doing up this early in the morning. To her
surprise, when she entered the stateroom, Val was walking out of the bathroom,
stark naked, and not seeming to care, while rubbing her hair vigorously with a
towel.

She smiled when
she saw Andrea. "Good morning," she said. "I just got back a few
minutes ago." She tossed the towel on the bed, pressed her hands to the
small of her back and stretched. "That was one energetic night," she
said. "But since I only have seven more nights to convince the man he
needs a sugar baby, I wanted to give him a good sampling of what lies ahead.
And I did. He was smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary when I
left."

Andrea looked
at Val's sleek perfect body—small trim waist, gently tapering hips,
silicone-filled breasts—and wondered if Jerry engaged in all the playful antics
with her before having sex, or if he just got on with it. The thought of Jerry
being playful with Val was disturbing. That had always been special to their
marriage. None of her married friends talked about frolicking with their
husbands, and she'd always felt a little sorry for them that they missed out on
the fun of lovemaking. But however Jerry did it, she still couldn't imagine him
having a sugar baby at all, knowing that if the girls found out, they'd be so
disillusioned they'd never look at him with adoration again...

"So, you
got your night with Alessandro," Val mused, while slipping into what
looked like a teddy from Victoria's Secret. She started brushing the tangles
out of her hair. "I was wondering how long you'd hold out. He'd be one
nice sugar pup if he was in the market, but with all his money he doesn't need
a sugar mommy."

Andrea eyed Val
with uncertainty. "Then Alessandro really does have a villa in Majorca and
a sixty-four-foot yacht?" she asked.

Val bent over,
brushing her hair toward the floor, and replied, "You'd better believe he
does. And more. It's common knowledge. Every time he's been on one of these
cruises he's always been dropped off and picked up by a chauffeur-driven limo.
And you can tell it's not a rented job. The chauffeur knows him well. So he
must have a home somewhere on the east coast too." She set the brush on
the bedstand, winked at Andrea, and said, "So, after a night with
Alessandro what did you think of him?"

"I don't
know," Andrea replied. "I fell asleep."

"Honey,
I'm talking about
before
you fell
asleep, what you thought of that package of his."

Andrea looked
at her, baffled. "What package?"

"
It's
spelled p-e-n-
i
-s.
Alessandro's is king-size, a state-of-the-arts sex machine. I know. I got the
honor of trying it on for size one night a couple of years back. Oh man, that
was one nice ride." She sighed. "He would have been one amazing sugar
daddy, but Alessandro isn't into the sugar bowl scene. Turned me down gently,
and with Italian finesse." Brows gathered, she said, musingly, "I
actually think Alessandro's looking for a wife. He never plays the field on
these cruises, and he seems to gravitate toward the older women." She
looked at Andrea then, and added, "Maybe you're finally the one."

Andrea's mind
shifted between the elation she felt that Jerry was wrong about Alessandro
being a gigolo, and the uneasiness that, for Alessandro, this could be more
than just a shipboard romance. "Well, like I said, nothing happened last
night. He mixed me a drink, I lounged on the bed, he rubbed my feet, and the
next thing I knew it was four in the morning and Alessandro was gone. But he
left a note saying he was in the casino and would see me tonight. He's taking
me to a place on Andros Island. A place for lovers."

"That
sounds very romantic and very Alessandro." Val gave her a wry smile.
"But afterwards, I sincerely hope you won't fall asleep again, at least
not until you check out his package. That's what lovers do."