Sweeter Than Wine (3 page)

The woman had changed into white capri's and
a t-shirt with a bra, he noted, and wore a cap on her head her
ponytail sticking out the back of it. She looked just as shocked as
he to see him.

"It is rather odd, isn't it? I'm terribly
sorry."

"No-no, that's perfectly all right. It is a
free country," Sam shook his head and started for the door.

"Wait…"

He turned around and he shouldn't have, the
woman was coming up to him, putting her hand on his arm and making
him pause, "I've an idea, if you're game."

"I can hardly wait to hear it," Sam firmed
his lips and tried a plastic smile on.

"Well, I feel I have somehow caused you a lot
of trouble today, and the day has barely started. I'd like to make
amends. Besides, I've never deep sea fished before myself. But if
you'll pay half, we could go together and that way both of us could
enjoy the sport for half the cost."

Sam studied her again, long and hard. The
woman really did feel bad about the beach scene, especially after
him telling her about his life or lack of one. Moreover, she meant
no real harm, but somehow Sam knew it was going to end up a very
interesting day.

After a moments thought he smiled, "You fish
on one end of the boat, me on the other?'

"That's fine with me," she chimed.

"Well, we will have a pilot, so to speak?" he
gestured to the woman at the desk; the lady popped her gum and
nodded.

"Oh yes, there'll be two men to help you with
the gear and one to captain the boat."

"All right, it's a deal," Sam turned back to
the woman who had occupied his mind. "Uh….by the way, what is your
name?"

"Lacey Malone," she said, putting her
sunglasses on." And yours?"

"Sam, Sam McKay." He replied going to the
desk and opening his wallet to pay the lady.

"The captain will be here in about half an
hour."

"Thanks."

"Oh wonderful, I wanted to check out the
souvenir shop, I'll just be a few minutes."

"Be back in time, the captain leaves right on
the dot," the girl encouraged.

"Oh yes, of course, thanks hon." And she was
off.

Sam sat there in the office waiting,
wondering whom Lacey Malone was buying trinkets for. It wasn't his
business, but it kept his mind busy, and off her shapely body. It
wasn't that she had the best of figures; it was how she carried
herself, almost regal, like a ballerina or something.

"I've got to get a life," he muttered to
himself.

"Excuse me?" the girl at the desk looked over
at him.

"Never mind," he muttered again and stuck his
nose in a magazine.

Twenty-five minutes past and Lacey hadn't
returned, the Captain came in and grabbed a log, then eyed Sam for
a moment and looked about.

"Oh yes, the lady will be right back, she's
gone to the souvenir shop," Sam found himself explaining.

"Well, we'll be boarding in five minutes.
Make sure you have a fishing license too." The Captain warned,
checking his watch again and leaving with the log in his hand.

Sam nodded. For a moment he considered going
and collecting Ms. Malone back to the boat, but she really wasn't
his business. Besides, maybe she'd reconsidered.

As he finally boarded the boat, there was
still no sign of Ms. Malone and he couldn't help wondering about
her. Was she capable of taking care of herself, he wondered?

He was certainly preoccupied with Ms. Malone
he silently scolded. He proceeded to follow the guide to the back
of the boat where he requested to fish. The fishing gear was top
rate and the swivel seat quite comfortable.

He was just putting on his life jacket when
she appeared. She literally had to jump aboard and with her hands
full of shopping sacks at that, she nearly fell. He frowned; the
boatmen should have been a little more helpful.

They did instruct her to put her purchases
down below and then they would get her set up. The men were shaking
their heads as though they'd found her lacking in the mental
department. Sam couldn't believe they were being so rude.

She had gone below and came back quickly. She
glanced toward Sam and he waved.

She smiled brightly, and then the guide
brought her a life jacket. Sam watched as she put it on and
breathed in the fresh air.

Sam nearly dropped his line; the woman was
extremely naïve about her sexual prowess.

Nevertheless, as they sped out of the harbor,
Sam noticed her smile quickly fading and he wondered what caused
it. Fastened into his seat, he couldn't just walk over to find out,
and decided to quit worrying about her. He wanted to enjoy this
day, if he could.

It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining,
and the water was an ultra blue. Waves created a gentle lapping
against the boat's edge. The smell of live bait created just the
atmosphere for fishing. Sam relaxed.

The Captain informed them they would begin
mooching or drifting and then they could cast their lines.

One of the guides cast her line out for her
as she positioned herself at her seat.

By now, she looked a little pale, Sam
thought.

She got a nibble before he did, and there was
a little excitement as she screeched, and pulled on the line, too
quickly, the fish got away. The guide again directed her as to
where to cast, and to wait until she felt a pull on the line before
trying to hook the fish.

She nodded and leaned forward. "I was a
little too anxious, I guess."

This time he heard a noise and turned about
to see her being sick, over the railing. One of the men was helping
her. He unfastened her belt, and took her line from her and
directed her to the bathroom below deck.

She nodded and grimly made her way.

Sam shook his head. This was no place for
her, he reasoned. Why would a grown woman insist on doing things
she knew nothing about? And being alone too, didn't help.

She was gone so long, he nearly forgot about
her. He hooked an Albacore and brought her in with no trouble. He
had to admit, it was exhilarating, he was beginning to relax and
enjoy himself.

The guides were laughing and cutting up with
him about how big it was and he had to admit, he was proud, a new
experience for him. He had a good 30 pounder.

Still when they began to pack it down, Sam
shook his head, "No, throw it back."

"Throw it back, but this is a fine specimen,
trophy size, don't you want it mounted?"

"No, I don't collect fish trophies—or any
trophies I should say."

They looked at him funny, but proceeded to
throw the fish back in the water.

With still no sign of Ms. Malone, Sam decided
to go below and see how things were.

He found her with her head bent over the
toilet, a washrag at her mouth, her eyes closed.

"Sea sick?"

"I guess so," she murmured. There were tears
in her eyes now. It wasn't hard to figue. It wasn't just the
seasickness bothering her.

"I'm sorry; we can have the Captain turn
around. If you like?" Sam offered.

"No…no, please don't do that. I couldn't live
with myself if I spoiled another minute of your vacation. I'll be
all right in a few minutes." She insisted, not bothering to look at
him.

"You haven't spoiled anything, Besides, I
don't think a few more minutes is going to help you a bit." he
tried to console her, by now he was feeling just a tad bad about
his own behavior.

"Oh please, don't be kind, not after all
this. I couldn't bear it." She said her tears streamed down her
face.

"Hey," he consoled, and pulled her to her
feet so that she rested against him now. "There's no need for this.
Nothing is spoiled, I caught a great fish, and I tasted the salt
water. I've had enough. Let's get back to shore."

"You're being very kind," she whispered, "But
why?"

"Well, let's just say I grew up with John
Wayne, and a cowboy always protects the lady, whether he wants to
or not." Sam laughed.

"John Wayne, huh?" she pulled away to look
into his face.

"Come on," he motioned, "Let's go on deck and
try to enjoy the last few minutes of the sunset. I'm getting kind
of used to you being around."

"Okay—I'll try." She said pulling away from
him.

"Thank you..." she said minutes later as she
inhaled the crisp sea breeze. She glanced at the lapping water and
turned away quickly. Sam couldn't help but feel a tad sorry for
her. Seasickness was no fun.

"For what?"

"For not laughing at me," she smiled
slowly.

"Tell you what we'll do," he said as he
helped her climb to deck, "We'll have ourselves a quiet little
dinner, and you can tell me all about why you are trying so hard to
make yourself do things you don't want or should not do."

Chapter Three

She joined him in the restaurant. She chose a
light blue organza sundress that brought out the blue of her eyes,
she curled her hair just a little and let it drape down her
back.

She noted how well he had cleaned up too. He
looked handsome in fresh denims, white shirt, and brown jacket. His
chin had a shadow, but his hair was light brown and it made him
ruggedly handsome .Almost dangerous looking.

"Feeling better?" he asked as they sat at a
quiet little corner table. The candle light flickered in his face
as she glanced at him.

"Much, thank you," she smiled.

The candlelight made the table seem more
intimate...

"Good, that's a start. Want a wine before we
eat?"

"Oh…that sounds lovely," she replied taking
the menu from his hand.

She had butterflies in her stomach, but she
wouldn't let him know it. This was the first time she'd been out to
dinner with a man in some time. She'd been to dinner with some of
the teachers before, but never an intimate dinner for two. It was
her own fault; she turned down plenty of invitations to dinner
before. However, she was bucking up. She lived far too far a sedate
life, and she had to change that. She vowed she wouldn't let the
Dean intimidate her again. She was determined to grit her teeth and
enjoy herself. It was just that she had forgotten how to enjoy
herself it had been so long.

Her eyes scanned the prices on the menu, she
gulped, and her smile began to fade again.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Uh... no, it's just…well, these prices, they
are unbelievably high." She tried not to sound too indignant.

"Nothing for you to worry about, I'm
treating," he said with a smile.

"Oh but…" she glanced at him and saw his
smile and something within her reacted. It was like a glacier
slowly melting. She'd never had such a reaction to a man before and
it startled her. Not even Howard gave her that kind of reaction.
She recognized the attraction. It baffled her. How could she be
attracted to this man? It would do no good, of course and she
silently believed it was what attracted her…the fact that he wasn't
interested in her. Yet, neither was Howard and she had been
attracted to him too, for the same reason.

Sam exuded a dangerous kind of attraction. He
was very tan, his hair was a little long and ruffled about him. He
looked native, primitive, and provocative.

His brown eyes were menacing, his light brown
hair was longer in the back and trailed to his shoulders. In
addition, he wasn't overly tall, but by far, he was more appealing
than anyone else in the room.
He was sort of a Michael Douglas
rugged looking man. A risk taker, a gambler, an exciting kind of
man, a man that could teach her how to enjoy life.
And it was
exactly what she needed.

She nodded, unable to bring herself to speak
at that moment.

Good grief a handsome man was taking her to
dinner and she could do nothing but turn to mush. She had better
sense than that.

She sipped the wine and tried not to look at
him too directly.

"So…Ms. Malone…"

"Please call me Lacey, all my friends do,"
she smiled.

"Lacey, then, what's your story?" he asked
with mild amusement.

"My story?" she queried. Looking at him with
new interest. It bothered her that he appealed to her. However, he
wanted to know more about her and that intrigued her. If he was
flirting, she didn't recognize it. His huge sorrowful brown eyes
captured her heart and imagination.

"Yes, I found you on the beach, dressed in a
towel, but by your excuses I could tell this wasn't normal for you.
Then you took a fishing trip, which wasn't the norm either, I
gather, as you get seasick. So what are you out to prove?"

"I'm that obvious?" she asked sitting back
against the chair and sipping the wine. She felt the tingle in her
blood as the wine tickled her tummy. Funny and true, she
acknowledged.

"Some boyfriend challenges your
integrity?"

"No boyfriend, but I suppose it could be
called a challenge." She quipped, grabbing a napkin and dabbing her
lips. She shouldn't burden this man with her troubles. He had
plenty of his own, it would seem.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Why would you want to listen?" She couldn't
stop the smile.

"Let's just say you intrigue me."

"Well, perhaps I should stop while I'm
ahead."

"You enjoy being a woman of mystery?"

"Me—a mystery?" She looked at his face, a
pleasant well-tanned face that spoke of hard work, and lots of
life. He said he was a forest ranger that would explain his
beautiful tan; it contrasted so acutely with the white shirt he
wore. "I suppose it might help explain my actions."

"That's not what I asked. Do you want to talk
about it?"

She held his gaze for a second and it
rendered her almost speechless looking into those warm brown eyes
that held both mischief and understanding. The man was such a
puzzle, one minute he was so caring and probing, the next, abrupt,
and rude. Which man was this?