Realizing she was staring she turned her eyes to Rico. “So,” she said, deliberately adopting a serene tone, “where are we going?” Her heart was racing like she’d just finished a run but Rico didn’t have to know that.
“You’ll see when we get there,” he said and gave her a satisfied grin.
She smiled demurely at him then looked away, pretending to admire the view outside the window. So he’d decided to be mysterious. No matter. She would know their destination soon enough. Right now her biggest worry was finding something to talk about. She was trapped in this car with a man to whom she was extremely attracted but who she had to keep at a distance. No matter that her mouth had gone dry at the sight of him, she had to remember that he was a client.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked as he watched her through half-closed eyes.
“Yes, thank you.” Her reply was quick, breathless, as she jumped at the chance for something to occupy her hands and her thoughts, anything to keep her from focusing on his closeness - the woodsy fragrance of his cologne, his strong and handsome profile when she viewed him from the side, the way the fine hairs on her forearm rose up each time he moved near. “White wine would be lovely.”
When he poured a glass and handed it to her she took it almost too eagerly. She had to force herself to wait before lifting the drink to her lips. She was a bundle of tingling nerves and she needed to regain control.
The first sip helped. She released the breath she’d been holding then took another sip. By her third sip her heart had begun to slow, moving back to normal pace. She glanced over at Rico and saw that he was checking something on his cell phone. He hadn’t been watching her, thank God. There was no way she wanted him to guess how scared she was to be alone with him.
After a minute he glanced over at her. “Sorry,” he said and gave her an apologetic smile. “Bad habit.” He stuffed the phone into his pocket. “I’ve got to learn to leave the office at the office.” Then he gave her a sly look. “Are you going to add that to your list of things to train me on?”
That made her laugh. “Of course not. My list is long enough already.” And with the laughter her tension eased and she was able to slide back into the plush seat, her body and mind beginning to relax.
Within twenty minutes Asia felt the car begin to slow until it came to a complete stop. She peered out the window and saw blue sky, blue water and a big, beautiful white yacht bobbing at the end of a dock.
Asia gasped then turned to Rico. “Where are we?”
“I wanted to take you somewhere where you can let your hair down.” He looked pointedly at the customary bun on top of her head. “We’re going to have dinner on my yacht.”
Asia’s heart lurched. Right then she couldn’t say whether it was from fear or pleasure. “Oh, that’s…nice.” Not knowing what else to say she forced a smile and waited for Rico to make the next move.
Her head snapped up as the door opened and she saw the chauffeur standing there, waiting for them to exit. Rico was holding out his hand to help her and, wary though she was, she placed her hand in his. When his fingers, so warm and strong, encircled hers she dropped her eyes and forced herself to breathe. No matter what, she had to act normal.
That was easier said than done. When she got out of the car she found herself standing directly in front of Rico, her face mere inches from the V of his shirt and that rippling chest she’d admired from afar. Now she found herself so close she could almost feel the warmth of his body and her nostrils were filled with the freshness of his cologne. She took a quick step back.
“Are you alright?” He reached out a hand as if to steady her.
She shook her head quickly. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
He gave her a quizzical look then he shrugged. “Okay then. Lets go.”
He gave a nod to the driver then led the way down the pathway of wooden planks toward the yacht. In Asia’s eyes it was huge, probably almost fifty feet long she would guess. More than impressive.
They were greeted by a tall, somber man in a white uniform. Rico introduced him as Charles Parker, the captain who would be taking them out onto the water while they dined below.
After they’d helped her on board Rico took her on a tour of the yacht. With its TV room, bedroom suites and Jacuzzi it was like a magnificent mansion on water. Their last stop was the dining room. It was here that Asia got her biggest surprise. It was a luxurious room with a table set for two, on which sat six softly glowing candles. The setting seemed so intimate that Asia hesitated. Did Rico have special plans for tonight?
She didn’t have time to ponder that. He’d already pulled out her chair and stood waiting for her to sit. Reluctantly she stepped forward then sank down onto the soft cushioned seat. She thought he was going to sit, too. Instead he wheeled a food trolley toward the table. As he lifted the silver domes that covered each dish the air was filled with a variety of delicious aromas and her mouth watered when she saw the feast of fish fillet in a creamy sauce, a mélange of steaming hot vegetables, savory wild rice and a basket of warm bread rolls that smelled freshly baked. The lower level of the trolley had soup, salad, an assortment of dressings and, to Asia’s delight, a cheesecake.
“My goodness,” she breathed. “How are we going to eat all this?”
“One bite at a time,” Rico said with a laugh. “Bon apetit.”
Asia had to admit, Rico played the perfect host at dinner. As they sat eating in the soft light cast by the candles he entertained her with stories of his life in France, Spain and Britain, and of his large Greek family in which he boasted twenty-one first cousins on his father’s side.
“My father has eight siblings,” he explained at her look of shock. He chuckled. “It could have been worse.”
Asia could not imagine being part of such a huge family. How did they keep track of one another? Compared to Rico’s family, with the collection of intriguing characters and gregarious relatives he’d told her about , her family seemed dull and boring. Both her parents and her eighteen-year old sister still lived in her hometown of Oakville in Canada, visiting her maybe once or twice a year. She also went home each Christmas. A family gathering for them was their household of four people. She had cousins, of course, but combining all those she’d acquired from both parents, she reached a total of eight. Even so, they rarely had gatherings where they all met. Probably only at weddings and funerals. They were a far cry from the hundred-person parties that Rico told her about.