Spy in a Little Black Dress - By Maxine Kenneth Page 0,76
a great idea,” Jackie said. “I’d love to.” Something in her did a little cartwheel. She was still feeling the aftereffects of swimming in a kind of sensuous aquatic dance with Emiliano. If he’s as sexy a horseback rider as he is a swimmer, this is going to be good.
It was better than good. They started slowly, trotting at a leisurely pace, then advanced to a medium trot, and once they were out in the countryside, went full speed ahead in a thundering gallop. Jackie’s heart was racing as fast as her horse’s hooves. At Merrywood, she usually went riding alone, but now, having a partner to keep up an exhilarating pace and even prod her faster and faster filled her with a glorious sensation. With Emiliano at her side, the feeling of liberation that riding always gave Jackie was magnified tenfold.
When it looked as if they were approaching a town, Emiliano turned his head to her and shouted, “Are you ready to go back?”
“Yes,” Jackie called out at the top of her lungs, wanting to make sure Emiliano heard her over the loud stomping of the horses’ hooves. Although she felt as though she could have ridden forever with Emiliano, disappearing into the sunset like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans in The Cowboy and the Señorita, she was sweating profusely and in need of another shower. Besides, if Emiliano had been testing her to see if she could keep up with him on this ride, she had passed the test with flying colors. Now it was time to discover what else might bring them even closer.
It was lunchtime when they arrived at the estate, and Emiliano had an idea. “After we freshen up, why don’t we go on a picnic?”
“A picnic? Oh, I’d love that. I couldn’t think of a better place to have one.” It sounded so romantic, Jackie thought, as if Emiliano was actually starting to court her.
When they set off on their picnic, Emiliano had another surprise for Jackie. Instead of taking her somewhere on the grounds, he led her to a cove where a gleaming white yacht was docked, gently rocking in the water.
“Mrs. Mitchell said we could take their boat to Saetía for a couple of hours,” he said, “and have our picnic there. It’s a beautiful island with a private beach. United Fruit Company owns the property, and Cubans aren’t allowed to go there without the company’s permission.” He jiggled the cooler he was carrying. “I have something to drink in here, and if you like fish, I can catch some and cook it on the outdoor grill. All the equipment I need is on the boat.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Jackie said. A New England clambake, Cuban-style.
Wearing her oversized sunglasses and a kerchief around her hair, Jackie sat on the deck of the beautifully appointed yacht and watched Emiliano steer the craft through the clear turquoise water. When they approached the island, she admired his skill as he maneuvered through an opening in the reef, entered the bay, and docked.
“This is like paradise,” Jackie said when she saw the iridescent pink sand of the beach sparkling like champagne, and beyond that, the tropical fruit trees laden with mangoes, papayas, avocados, and huge flowers bursting with color.
“I won’t be long,” Emiliano said as he left Jackie at a picnic table in a secluded spot and went off to join some boys fishing from the reef.
“We’re in luck,” Emiliano said when he returned. “I caught us two beautiful red snappers.”
“Great,” Jackie said, turning her eyes away as Emiliano went to work cutting and filleting the fish with the precision of a surgeon. She busied herself setting out the picnic dinnerware they’d taken from the boat and opening a bottle of the vintage wine that Emiliano had brought in the cooler.
“Dinner is served, señorita,” Emiliano said as he set down two plates of beautifully grilled fish accompanied by slices of some avocados that he had plucked from a tree.
“Oh, Emiliano, this is delicious,” Jackie said, biting into the succulent snapper with the taste of the sea still on it. Even more delicious than the fish was her delight at being waited on by this latter-day Robinson Crusoe, who combined manly strength and resourcefulness with old-fashioned chivalry. She felt that they were like two castaways on a remote, idyllic island, sharing a private world of their own.
After their meal, they sat down on a blanket that Emiliano had spread on the ground. Woozy from the sun and the wine,