Dave said, 'Do you want some more? I made a whole pitcher, in case you changed your mind about having just the one.'
'A man who knows female psychology.' She handed him her glass. 'Shall we add that to your list of accomplishments?'
Dave took the glasses, salted the rims and then refilled them to the brim.
'Who's counting?' he said.
She waited until Dave sat down again, looked him straight in his big brown eyes and answered him with a frankness she found almost exhilarating. 'I am.' Then she raised her glass before he could get too close, wanting to control this for as long as possible. 'Well, that's how I come to be the captain of a yacht. How do you come to be an owner? I mean this is a pretty expensive boat.'
'I guess I know what I like,' said Dave, with what he hoped sounded like evasive modesty. 'And then, if I can, I go and get it.'
'Do you go after everything you like?'
'No. Not everything. But it's the way I'd pick out a woman.'
'You make it sound like choosing a necktie.'
'Choosing a necktie is a serious business,' said Dave. 'It can be hanging around your neck for up to twelve hours a day.'
'Twelve hours a day? Sounds like you're in something that's high pressure. Exactly what do you do for a living?'
'Exactly?' Dave grinned. 'A bit of this, a bit of that.'
'That sounds like a really nice job. Which of them pays better?'
'Generally, that.'
'That's what I thought.'
'I work in the South East Financial Center, on Biscayne Boulevard.'
'Sure. The tallest building in Florida.'
'It has to be, for all the stories I have to tell my clients.'
'So you're a practiced liar, is that what you're telling me?'
'Not practiced. Perfect.'
Kate smiled. 'You must be doing all right.'
Dave looked noncommittal.
Kate said, 'I mean, we've already established that this isn't exactly the Sloop John
B. A boat like this must cost the best part of three million. That's a lot of tall stories. Even for someone in the Financial Center.' He put down his glass and said, 'What would you do if you had three million
dollars?'
'Is this Indecent Proposal?'
'I said, three million.'
'Well, naturally there'd be some change.'
Dave slid along the sofa and put his arm around her shoulders. He said, 'Where are we on the King's Gambit?'
And then he kissed her.
You could tell a lot about a man by the way he kissed you, thought Kate. Sometimes you could tell what he'd had for dinner. But mostly you could tell right away if you wanted to go to bed with him. Kate knew pretty much as soon as he pressed his mouth to hers that she wanted to have it pressed to other parts of her body as well. When eventually he drew back to look for her reaction, she said, 'I think it has probably been accepted. Only the White Queen is badly placed here. She ought to move if she's to avoid mate.'
Kate put her Margarita down on the coffee table, slid a hand around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers, as if she was already addicted to its narcotic effect. Dreamily she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the acute intoxication of his lips, which were still necked with crystalline salt from his glass. The last man who had kissed her had been Nick Hemmings, the British liaison officer. A nice guy but not much of a kisser. And before that Howard, of course, who kissed like a clam. But this -- this was a real Schedule II buzz: high abuse potential. The kind of $200 an ounce kiss that felt like she was vacuuming it up through her dilating nostrils and finding it, seconds later, tingling in her toes.
'Mmmm,' she said, deliciously, and brushed his warm cheek and hot ear with her glowing lips. 'You could cut that feeling with a credit card.'
'Have you ever felt really wide awake and all you wanted to do was go straight to bed?'
'I've never done anything straight,' said Kate, revelling in the new role she was creating for herself. Barbara Stanwyck. Lauren Bacall. Bette Davis. She pushed Dave gently away. 'If I had, I'd have become an astronaut. Still, as rocket rides go this has been quite fast enough. Just look at me. Breathless.' She sat up and collected her nearempty glass off the table. 'Running low on fuel and oxygen. I think I'd better get back to the mother ship.'
Dave picked up a cushion and placed it on his lap. He said, 'That's probably a good idea.' He finished his Margarita, waiting for Kate to show some more obvious signs of wanting to leave. Like standing up.
When she stayed put on the sofa he helped himself to one of her cigarettes while he thought of appropriate lines of poetry. There was some Andrew Marvell that fitted the situation very well, only he'd relied on other people's words too much already. It was time to be himself. Or as much of himself as he could ever reveal to her, given what he was planning. So he said simply, 'You know, for a ship's captain, you're a pretty nice girl.'
'It's not a condition of the job that you have to look like Charles Laughton and walk around the deck carrying a rope's end.'
'Al makes Charles Laughton look like Cary Grant.'
'It's probably just as well he does,' suggested Kate. 'Think how embarrassed you'd both be if this was him sitting here now.'
The obscenity of that picture made Dave laugh out loud. He said, 'It would make it easier to say goodnight.'
'You know, David, for a millionaire, you give up real easy.'
'And I thought I was demonstrating an admirable restraint.'
'Your admirable restraint is nice, don't get me wrong. It makes a very welcome change. But how shall I put it? OK, as butlers go, there's too much English and not enough of Rhett. Quite obviously I'm in two minds about what to do here now. Maybe I just need a little financial center salesmanship.'
'Frankly, my dear, I don't feel up to bullshitting you. What it boils down to is that I like your stock too much to sell it short. I'd rather force the price up than down. When I buy into something it's not because I'm after a quick killing, but because I believe in the company. You should only sell when you're sure of that yourself. A deal's only a good deal if both parties think so.'
'I love it when you talk that way,' said Kate. 'It makes me feel like Bell Atlantic' She kissed him and stood up. 'I'll be waiting for your offer, Rhett. You'll know where to find me. You just look out to sea in the morning and then turn around.'
'Want me to walk you home?'
'That's OK, I brought my sea-legs with me.'
'So I noticed. As a matter of fact I've been noticing them all evening. They look good on you. Like one's called Cyd and the other's called Charisse. They make a pretty good duo.'
'And contrary to whatever impression I may have given you, Dave, they're seldom seen apart.'
'I didn't doubt it,' said Dave, escorting her toward the stern of the yacht. 'You know Kate, this wasn't, isn't, just a casual flirtation. I meant a lot of what I said. That's not something that happens to me very often, believe me.'
'And if I told you I already had the same feeling?' She stopped his mouth with another kiss, and then added, 'We've got ten days to find out if this means anything more important than just human biology.'
Dave frowned, momentarily at a loss. He said, 'Ten days?'
Kate said, 'That's how long we've got on this floating tin of sardines until we get to Mallorca, isn't it?'
'Oh sure,' said Dave, whose mental clock was only set for a five-day voyage.
Kate said, 'You'll let me know if you plan to get off early, won't you, David? Only I'd hate to wake up in the morning and find you'd checked out.'
