gleamed sleekly.
The dock was long, jutting out into the marina, and she had time to study him. He had dark hair, cut very short, a rugged face that gave away nothing, very square shoulders, like a swimmer, but his arms and legs were more like a wrestler's, long and muscular. He looked as if he had every reason to be confident, walking with a minimum amount of effort, almost gliding, as if his feet were made of ball bearings. There was a source of energy about him, like a ring of fire, that she could not comprehend, but it made her uneasy. She thought there was something familiar about him, which made her unease almost painful. And then, with an electric jolt that frightened her to her core, she knew what it was: He moved just like Jason.
"Here we go." Ramos steered the boat in front of the cigarette and put it in idle so that they drifted in toward the slip.
Arkadin was saying something to the Mexican and laughing when Ramos's boat caught the periphery of his vision. He looked up, squinting against the oblique sunlight, and at once saw Soraya. His nostrils flared as his gaze took in her aggressive, exotic face, her body, which in the tiny bikini was as good as being naked - even better, Soraya felt, because it left the tiniest bit to his imagination. She raised one arm, as if to keep her visor on her head, but really the gesture accentuated the sensuality of her body.
And then, just like that, he turned away and said something to the Mexican that made him chuckle. Soraya was disappointed. Her fingers gripped the railing as if she wanted to throttle it.
"The gringo's a fucking maricon, that's all there is to it," Antonio said.
Soraya laughed. "Don't be idiotic." But his comment had lifted her out of her temporary sense of defeat. "I haven't given him enough of a challenge." Then an idea occurred to her and, turning to Antonio, she put her arms on his shoulders. Gazing into his eyes, she said, "Kiss me. Kiss me and don't stop."
Antonio looked happy to oblige. He grabbed her around the waist and planted his lips on hers. His tongue seemed to scald her as it probed between her teeth and into her mouth. Soraya arched her back, molding her body to his.
Ramos maneuvered the boat a bit too close to the cigarette's bow, causing the gringo and El Heraldo to turn. As El Heraldo ran to the bow, gesticulating and cursing him mightily, the gringo stood watching Soraya and Antonio locked in their amorous embrace. He seemed interested now.
Shouting his apologies, Ramos steered the boat back on course and eased it into its slip. A marina hand stood by to loop the mooring ropes fore and aft as Ramos cut the engines, and threw the coils to him. Then Ramos stepped off the boat and headed toward the harbormaster's office. Arkadin continued to stare at Soraya and Antonio Jardines, though he hadn't moved an inch.
"Enough," Soraya said into Antonio's mouth. "¡Basta, hombre! ¡Basta!"
Antonio was reluctant to let her go, and she pushed him away first with one hand, then with both. By the time she had managed to free herself, Arkadin was on the dock, heading their way.
"Mano, you're like a fucking pulpo," she said loudly, only partly for Arkadin's benefit.
Antonio, relishing his role, grinned at her and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Then Arkadin was on board and between them.
"Maricon, what are you doing here? Get out of my face," Antonio said.
Arkadin straight-armed him off the boat and into the water. The Mexican on the cigarette laughed uproariously.
"That wasn't a good idea," Soraya said coldly.
"He was hurting you." Arkadin said it as a clear statement of fact.
"You have no idea what he was doing." Soraya kept up her frozen exterior.
"He's a man, you're a woman," Arkadin said. "I know exactly what he was doing."
"Maybe I liked it."
Arkadin laughed. "Maybe you did. Should I help the sonovabitch back onto the dock?"
Soraya looked down at Antonio snorting water out of his nose. "I could have done that." Then she looked back at Arkadin. "Leave the sonovabitch where he is."
Arkadin laughed again and offered her his arm. "Maybe you need a change of scene."
"Maybe I do. But it won't be with you."
Then she pushed past him, climbed off the boat, and walked slowly and provocatively back up the dock.
Bourne felt his lungs burning. There were black