subject in the first place. What I found myself thinking was that underneath his suit Eduardo might not be so muscly, which might be a nice change of pace. Robert was so firm, his arms, his chest, his legs, and I have always thought I liked that; I’m an athletic woman, why wouldn’t I be attracted to athletic men? But something about this man seemed like it might be pleasing in a different way. Maybe he wouldn’t be quite so hard in all the places Robert was, maybe he wouldn’t be so hairy, either. Maybe he’d have smooth skin, like that of a woman, and it would be soft against mine. Maybe, too, he would make love the way he speaks, gently and elegantly, unlike Robert, whose lovemaking was volatile and loud. Robert made love like it was a competition, which for him I think it was. One time I thought I heard him counting, as though he was trying to kill two birds with one stone and combine our sex with a workout for his abs. Having sex with Robert was all about him; he initiated it, he dictated how we would do it, and when he finished, it was over. Maybe with Eduardo it would be, at least partly, about me.
To my surprise, I had butterflies as I watched him sign our bill with an elegant pen he took from his breast pocket. Then he sent the waiter away with a wave of his hand. Our dinner was finished, the bottle of wine empty in the center of the table.
“This was a pleasure,” he said, with a smile that seemed to glow in the light of the candle. “Thank you for spending such a lovely evening with me.”
“The pleasure was mine,” I said noncommittally. That was my plan, to be noncommittal. Whatever was going to happen was going to be instigated by him.
“May I assume you will be training in the early morning hours, as usual?” he asked.
“You may.”
He nodded and then glanced at his watch. “Then we should be getting you back to your room,” he said. “May I escort you?”
“You may,” I said.
And escort me he did, that was the perfect word. He stood and buttoned his sport coat, then extended his elbow and I took it, and he led me through the hotel like a bride down the aisle. Neither of us spoke as we waited for the elevator, or as the doors closed and then opened on my floor, nor on the entire walk down the long hallway to my room. Once there, he gently lowered his elbow and spun formally on his heel to face me.
“Once again, this evening has been my great pleasure,” he said. “I hope that we will have the chance to do it again before you leave the island.”
And he took my hand and squeezed it, firmly, between his two, and then he slowly raised it to his lips and kissed me ever-so-gently on the palm.
“Good night,” he said, with a shallow bow, and then he turned and made his way slowly back toward the elevator.
My breath caught in the back of my throat as I watched him the whole way. I did not move until I heard the bell ring, signifying the arrival of the elevator. And I listened as the doors opened and then shut again, and I stood in silence a long moment after that, waiting for footsteps that never came.
“My lord,” I said and sighed. “That was by far the best handshake I ever had.”
I fished my room key from my bag and pushed open the door. Once inside, I stopped in front of the full mirror. I looked terrific. My hair was windblown but it looked nice that way, especially with the dark tan I had developed. My arms looked especially good, thinner than at any time I could remember, and tight. I don’t think I ever looked better, or at least I don’t recall ever feeling better about the way I looked.
And then there was a gentle knock at the door and my heart jumped. There isn’t any question why he’d have returned. Nor was there any question that I wanted him to. It felt right. I turned very slowly and crossed the room, hesitated as I put my hand on the knob, but only for a moment, and then took a deep breath and pulled it open.
And just as quickly as it had settled, my breath froze in my chest. And my