Love a Sailor (5 page)

“They were amazing, weren’t they, the
Romans?” says the Captain, jolting me with his shoulder.

I lose my balance for a moment, but he
catches me before I fall and pulls me close. “What do you think? Is it better
than shopping? Are you glad you came with me?”

I fall into him, all tension leaving me.
He cradles me in his arms and hugs me against his chest, his breath stirring my
hair as we breathe in and out together. The sounds of the city diminish until I
can hear his heart beating in time with mine. Precious moment.

Broken all too soon, as the Captain lets
me go and we fall apart. He puts his hands in his pockets and kicks at a pebble
while I dip my head to allow my hair to fall over my face, a sudden bashfulness
overcoming me.

He looks up and grins at me like a
teenager, shy and boyish. “Well! I’m not quite sure what happened there, but it
was something good. Are you hungry? It’s getting late. Maybe we should make
tracks for a restaurant.”

I brush my hair back off my face,
thankful for the dissipation of the unexpected tension between our bodies, but
glad that he felt it, too. “I want to climb up to the top of the seats and see
what it would be like to sit there as a member of the audience.” I start for
the bottom of the steps and call back, “You stay there, Captain, and do some
acting for me, all right?”

As
I begin the climb the Captain strikes a mock dramatic pose.

From the top tier, the sea forms a
natural backdrop for his thespian antics. I don’t know what character he’s
playing, but it’s funny and he has me laughing as he cavorts and fools about
singing, “What shall we do with the drunken sailor?”

Every word reaches me clearly. The
acoustics are astounding.

He stops, resting his hands on his knees
and taking deep breaths. ”Exhausting stuff, this prancing around. Come on down
now, Meredith. There’s a good girl. I’m tired and hungry.”

So am I. Showing off a bit by jumping
down from step to step and throwing my arms wide, I make my way down, but
descending is more difficult than climbing up. I have to watch where I put my
feet on the broken and crumbling stone in the encroaching twilight. The stairs are
steep — seat-level high. A step up from the bottom I catch my sneaker on the
edge. My momentum tips me head over heels, downward to the ancient paving, but
the Captain is there as backstop. He darts forward and sweeps me up in his
strong arms, saving me at the last second.

My weight propels him backwards, but he
manages to keep his feet. He steadies me against his powerful chest and I can
hear his heart thumping. My own heart races and my legs shake as they touch the
ground again. He half-drags, half-carries me over to the first row of stone
seats where he sits me down beside him, his breaths coming in uneven gasps, for
he’s winded from my unplanned assault. I hold onto his hands tightly while he
recovers.

At last he chuckles, “Next time you want
to head-butt me in the solar plexus, just give me a warning, Okay?”

I’m still shaken, but I nod and edge
closer towards him on the hard seat.

He eases his hands out of my nervous grip
and shakes them in mock relief. “Come here you silly girl, you’re still
trembling,” he says, and wraps me up in his arms, drawing me in close again. We
stay like that until my tremors cease.

“Thank you, thank you, Captain,” I murmur
against his chest. “I could have broken my neck.”

He pushes away from me and cradles my
face in his warm palms, looking deep into my eyes. “You must be more careful,
Merry.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose and sits back watching me.

I don’t move. I don’t want him to stop.

He must have read the lack of resistance
in my eyes for he drops tiny kisses all along my forehead before tipping my
head forward and kissing my ear. His kisses are light and caring, like the
kisses one gives to soothe a hurt child, but I’m not a child.

I draw his hands down from my face,
holding them between mine, and stretch up to return his kisses. Matching his
gentleness, I feather his lips with mine, exploring, testing, for I have never
kissed a man before. His lips are soft and yielding but I can feel his
underlying self-control. He’s quivering with tension. I let him go and watch his
eyes open and look down at me, his pupils dark and wide. He tries to pull his
hands away but I tighten my hold and lean up towards him again. This time I
tease him with a sedate little kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He snatches his hands away and gathers me
up in his arms to crush me hard against his breast. “Merry,” he breathes deep
into my hair. “What am I going to do with you?”

I stay still, almost swooning, relishing
the feeling of security he gives me, and inhaling his male scent made heavy by
our walking, until he slackens his hold on me. With one hand he pries me away
from him. With the other he lifts up my face with his fingers and rubs his
thumb over my lips. Stabs of sensation dart up my inner thighs, the new
experience taking me by surprise. I give a quick shudder. He smiles and traces
the outline of my mouth with his thumb again, and I melt.

“Is this what you really want, Meredith?”

Receiving no answer, he lowers his mouth
to mine and brushes me with his lips. I strain towards him, seeking to increase
the contact between us, but he resists and draws my bottom lip into his mouth,
sucking on it, stroking it with his tongue. I can’t hold still, and tremble.

He pulls away again. “You are sure about
this? I don’t want to stop now, but I could if you want me to.”

“Captain—”

His mouth comes down on mine with a full
kiss, then another and another. When I respond and kiss him back, he demands
more, pushing my lips apart with his tongue. I find myself parting my lips and
taking him in. The wary observer in me vanishes, and I lose myself in the magic
of the physical sensations and the feeling of oneness with the Captain. The
outside world dims to a shimmer. We soar together through a boundless blue
space, a place of pure enchantment.

A deep voice breaks into our haven,
“Lo
siento — Americanos?”

We part to see an attendant trying to
catch our attention. He tells us the theater is closing for the night and asks
us to leave.

The Captain helps me to my feet. “Shades
of my youth,” he chuckles, “being asked to leave because I’ve been caught
making out in a public place. Come. Let’s go eat and watch the
paseo
.”

I ask him what that is and he says I must
wait and see.

We chat easily together as we hurry back
towards the
Calle Marqu
é
s
de Larios
, hand in hand.
The evening is drawing in. It’s chilly and we’re both hungry.

We are about to turn into the main street
when the Captain stops me. He stands stiff and silent with clenched jaw. I wait
for him to gather his thoughts and speak to me, fearing something momentous.

At last he gives a shake of his head and
says, “Meredith, I’m not good for you. We shouldn’t see each other again.”

I sway, overcome with giddiness, and
close my eyes in denial of what he is saying to me.

“Meredith, did you hear what I said?”

I put my hands over my ears. “I don’t
want to hear what you said. It’s not true. How can you say you are bad for me
when you’ve just given me the first real kiss I’ve ever had? A kiss I enjoyed,
moreover. And you stopped me from getting hurt when I fell.”

I take my hands away from my ears and
stamp my foot. I’m not only disappointed, I’m annoyed. “And, dammit, I like
you. I want to see you again. I thought we’d got over your misgivings about our
age difference and all that.”

He steps forward and takes my hands down
from my ears. “Meredith, stop it. You’re behaving like the child you say you
aren’t.”

I can’t look at him, I’m too ashamed.
He’s right about my tantrum. Moreover, I’m so upset my eyes are filling with
tears and I can’t wipe them away because he’s still holding my hands. A sniff
escapes me.

He lets go of my hands and chucks me
under the chin. “Hey, girl, you’re not crying are you? I’m not worth that. I’m
just trying to explain to you that it would be better for you if we break this
off now, before you get hurt.”

I wipe my nose with the back of my hand
and sniff again. He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and holds it to my
nose while I blow. “I’m sorry. You took me by surprise. One moment everything
was wonderful and then the next you say it’s all over. Before it’s really
begun.”

“Come here, you silly girl,” he says and
pulls me into his arms, giving me a big hug. “If you’re sure, we could take
things slowly. I don’t want to rush you into something you’ll regret later.”

I can’t for the life of me imagine how I
could possibly regret being involved with someone so attractive, so thoughtful
and so doggone hot. He’s everything a young girl dreams of in a man. A hero. A
protector. I nod and he sets me free.

“All right?” he asks, his blue, blue eyes
searching my face. “Let’s go get us some
tapas
and watch the
paseo
.”
He links my arm through his.

Arm in arm, we leave the alleyway and
walk out onto the
Calle Marqu
é
s
de Larios
. It’s thronged
with people, strolling along looking in the windows, greeting friends, dressed
to impress, all looking over their fellows as they saunter along.

“This is the
paseo
,” says the
Captain. “It’s the Spanish custom to come out in the evening to see and be
seen, especially for the young people looking for a partner.”

We make our way the length of the busy
street up to the
Plaza Constituci
ó
n
where there are several pavement caf
é
s serving
tapas
. We sit down side
by side and the Captain orders a selection of
tapas
and ap
é
ritifs. We stay silent until our order
arrives. We’re a bit shy of each other after our earlier altercation. I’m on
delicate ground and the Captain must feel the same way. The waiter serves us
and leaves. The Captain reaches for my hand and holds it on his lap giving it a
squeeze. I take this as a sign that things are going well between us again, and
smile back at him.

“That’s better,” he says. “In for a
penny, in for a pound.” And he kisses my cheek. “Try some of this,” he holds
out the various delicacies for me to taste.

It’s all new to me: the octopus, the
grilled cheese, the lamb chops, and all the other bits and pieces, but most of
all the experience of sitting with a gorgeous man who is being given a second
look by the women who pass by, and knowing that it’s me he likes and wants to
spend time with, even if it is against his better judgment.

I’m comfortable and relaxed. The Captain
has stretched out his long legs and sunk down a little in his seat. He puts his
arm round me and draws me in close. “Do you want to move on to a restaurant?”

“Do we have to? Couldn’t we just stay
here and have some more
tapas
? We can have dinner every night on the
ship. We have to sit up straight there and watch what we do. Here, we can
pretend to be ordinary people, and just hold hands without having to guard
against what people may think.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” He
calls the waiter over again and orders some more food and a bottle of
rioja,
the oaky Spanish red wine.

“Now, tell me a little about why you live
with your aunt in England, instead of in Vermont with your own family.”

“Clara took me in when my parents were
killed in a car accident. I don’t remember that much about them as I was only
nine. Clara is my father’s younger sister. She’s been good to me, treated me
like her own daughter. We moved to England when she was offered the position as
history lecturer, as I told the Admiral. But what about you?”

He laughs. “You know about the family
business because I told you. Apart from that I come from a long line of Cornish
sailors and fishermen with a few pirates thrown in. We have salt water in our
veins.”

“Will you miss it when you have to take
up a shore job in the company?”

“Who knows? I might, but it will be good
to have a more ordinary life, perhaps get married, have a family, and there’s
always the horses. I really miss not be able to ride. Every chance I get, I’m
down in Cornwall on the family estate with my horses.”

I hold my tongue, not saying anything
about my fear of horses. I was thrown during a riding class when I was only
seven. No one made me get back on again, and I never have since.

The Captain pays the bill and we leave.
He will be on watch tomorrow, taking the ship out of port and on its way to
Barcelona. We stroll back to the ship, taking our time. I’m sad to be saying
goodbye to Malaga. It’s a beautiful city. All the important buildings are lit
up including the amphitheater and the Alcazaba.

Once we are back on board the Captain
takes me by the arm in his usual commanding way and steers me to the elevator.
“You’ll come to my cabin for coffee or tea tonight, won’t you, Merry. We can
sit together and look out at the city.”

“We’re taking it slow, right?” I check.
“No etchings?”

“Scout’s honor,” he says, giving the
salute and laughing at me.

*

As it happens, I receive a note from the
Captain to say that he has to work this evening and will have to forgo my visit
to his cabin after dinner. I’m not sure whether that is true, or whether he has
decided he needs a breathing space to consider where we are going with our
relationship, if that’s what this is. I take his supposed hesitation to bed
with me, wondering if I shall hear from him again, but comfort myself with the
thought that this is a long voyage, eleven weeks all told.