Never Too Late (10 page)

"We're not
at that point," Andrea assured her. "Relationships take time to
build. We'll probably watch a movie and maybe cuddle a little," though
that idea had lost its appeal.

"Well,
I'll give you a little head's up in case the cuddling leads to more," Val
said. "Don't be shocked when you learn Alessandro wears a thong. It's not
for flaunting it though, he's far too reserved, but he said it's comfortable
and keeps it all contained but not in a straitjacket.

Andrea stared
at Val, shocked that Alessandro would wear such a thing. Jerry would in an
instant if she bought him one, and she could imagine the style show that would
inspire. But Alessandro...

"Don't
look so shocked," Val said. "Lots of men in the single scene wear
thongs. But it's mostly for male enhancement, the kind of thong with a padded
pouch that grabs the package and pushes it up so it looks bigger." She let
out a little snigger. "One prospective sugar daddy I met at the fitness
center looked like Adonis in his spandex gym shorts, but when the tie-died
thong came off, he looked like Adonis with a peanut and a couple of grapes.
That's not what you get with Alessandro though. But from what you told me about
your ex, how he turned you off, I suspect he's a peanut and grape man."

"Well, no,
he's just fine the way he is... or was," Andrea corrected, though she
really didn't know whether Jerry's
package
was king size or not. She'd never had any other man to compare him with. But
what Jerry had seemed right for her. Although maybe it wasn't. Maybe king size
was what she needed to finally feel satisfied enough to put sex behind and
accept her lot as a sexless, middle-aged divorcee. Not such a bad idea, she
realized. With Jerry and sex out of the picture, she'd be free to visit the
girls more, get to really know the grandchildren, maybe even spend time
visiting her parents and not be so testy with her father. She let out a little
soft laugh. With Jerry out of her life she'd be daddy's little
silver-spoon-fed-princess again.

But then, maybe
living in a villa in Italy wouldn't be so bad either. She could fly to South
Carolina regularly on Alessandro's jet. Or if he didn't have one, she'd
convince him to get one so she could visit the girls. But she'd also be stuck
with nightly sex again, and she couldn't imagine that without the playfulness
Jerry initiated before making love.

Looking at Val,
she said, curiously, "The night you were with Alessandro... Did he make it
fun,
maybe horse around with you a little before you
had sex?"

Val laughed.
"Honey, when you're sitting on the bed and a hunk like Alessandro is
standing in front of you wearing nothing but a fishnet thong, horsing around is
the last thing on your mind. I gave him what he wanted and he sure as shit gave
me what I wanted." She sighed. "That was one satisfying piece of
equipment."

Which meant,
Jerry's wasn't. At least, not to Val, Andrea surmised. Which puzzled her. She
couldn't imagine what it was about what Jerry had that a woman like Val
couldn't find... well... exceptional. It was certainly responsive when things
between them had been good. But she couldn't dwell on that right now. She woke
up with a splitting headache, and all she could think
of
was crawling into bed and getting a couple of hours sleep before dressing and
meeting Alessandro for their evening on Andros Island.

A place for
lovers, she mused. What does one wear to a place for lovers?

With a
man-of-the-world like Alessandro, it should be something classy and chic. Maybe
she'd check out the little boutique shops on the ship. She'd seen some trendy
outfits there. And beneath whatever she wore she'd be daring, even if
Alessandro would never see what it was. So all she needed was to decide which
set of bikini panties and bras she'd wear.

A place for lovers...

The black set
with the peek-a-boo lace that barely covered her nipples...

The image of
her wearing the set for Jerry emerged...

Her last
thought before drifting off for her nap was of Jerry standing in a fishnet
thong and his
state-of-the-arts sex
machine
in the pouch. When things had been right with them, Jerry really
did have
one satisfying piece of
equipment
. Four children, and years of playful romping and passionate
lovemaking proved it. But Jerry didn't need thongs with padded pouches. What he
had was just right for her...

She tried to
imagine a passionate encounter with Alessandro, but the image of Jerry in the
fishnet thong kept getting in the way...

…a place for lovers...

She wasn't so
sure now. She was having trouble keeping the lovers straight...

***

The sun was
setting when the cruise ship dropped anchor at Andros Town on Andros Island.
The stop was to include a short visit for passengers to see one of Andros
Island's many blue holes—circular pits that plunge hundreds of feet through
rock and coral into murky depths—and attend a feast where a wild boar would be
roasted on a rotating spit and islanders would do a fire dance. The cruise ship
would leave at ten o'clock that night, so passengers were expected to return to
the ship by nine.

While Jerry
stood watching a circle of happily inebriated passengers taking their turns at
attempting the limbo while waiting to disembark, he spotted Andrea standing
across the deck from him. In head-to-toe Giorgio Armani—a crocodile-printed
military jacket with crystals and sequins, and skin-tight black silk leggings
paired with crystal-encrusted leather boots—she didn't look bad for a woman in
her forties. Hell, she didn't look bad for a woman of any age. He'd never seen
the outfit before, so she'd no doubt picked it up in one of the upscale shops
on board to impress that gigolo, Cavallaro. She glanced at her watch then
looked around, so he gathered she was waiting for the guy. Then she pursed her
lips and folded her arms, and her fingers began tapping impatiently against her
bicep. Her obvious annoyance gave him a Machiavellian sense of pleasure. She
looked up and caught him watching.

Deciding to
ruffle her feathers a little more than they already were, he walked up to her,
and said, "You look pissed. Is your lover keeping you waiting?"

She looked at
him indifferently, and said, "That's none of your business."

"I
know," he replied. "Just thought I'd initiate some polite
conversation."

"Now that
you have, you can leave." She angled her body away from him.

"By the
way, you look like a million dollars."

She looked at
him with a start. "Then you like my outfit?"

"No,"
he said, "but Cavallaro will."

"Why do
you say that?"

"Because
you also look like a woman who wants to get screwed." In past years he
would have made that crack and be referring to himself, and Andrea would have
followed up by seducing him and proving he was right. But the chic, spangled
outfit he wanted to rip from her body for the sole purpose of hauling her off
to bed, was not intended to please him, which she reaffirmed by saying with
irony, "Then I've accomplished my goal."

It bothered him
that she sounded like she meant it. But what could he expect, after going to
her stateroom and humiliating her by demanding she do her duty as a wife. And
when she'd offered it all to him, but with mockery, his body failed him again.
So she was going to a younger man who'd give her what she wanted. "When
you do it," he said, wanting to get in one last
dig,
"be sure to move a little, let the guy know you're still alive. It helps a
man's ego." A tiny flare of light came into her eyes, the kind she got
before a clever comeback.

"Alessandro
will know I'm alive," Andrea assured him. "Incidentally, he wears a
thong, says it's comfortable and keeps it all contained but not in a
straightjacket. You might try one. They sell them in the little adult novelty
shop on C Deck. Pick up a fishnet. It's a real turn on for a woman." She
looked beyond him and smiled. "Well, here comes my lover," she said,
"tight pants and all. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was wearing
one of those thongs with the padded pouch that pushes the package up and makes
it look bigger, but I know he's just glad to see me."

Andrea saw
Jerry's face harden and wondered if she'd gone too far this time. But he'd been
so smug with his crass comments, and after learning Val spent the night proving
to him, who knows how many times, that he needed a sugar baby, she couldn't
resist.

Alessandro,
spotting her, walked directly to her, slipped an arm around her waist, pulling
her to him, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Sorry I'm late,
querida
," he said peering down at
her. "Am I forgiven?" He gave her a smile that could melt an iceberg.

"Of
course," she said, gazing up at him, pretending Jerry wasn't there.

"So now
I'll take you to that place for lovers," he said, his words soft,
seductive. "Are you ready?" Before she could reply, Alessandro
glanced at Jerry, as if noticing him for the first time, and said, "Excuse
me senor, I forgot my manners." He extended his hand. "I am
Alessandro Cavallaro, and you are...?"

"Your
lover's husband," Jerry said, ignoring Alessandro's extended hand.

Alessandro
withdrew his hand. "So you must be Jerry. Andrea has talked a lot about
you."

"I'll just
bet she has," Jerry said.

Alessandro
ignored the barb. "Then you'll loan me your wife for the evening. It's my understanding
that the two of you are travelling as unattached."

"What do
you want with my wife, Cavallaro?" Jerry asked, pointedly.

"Ah, the
jealous husband." Alessandro said. "I want what any man would want
with such a beautiful woman. Her enjoyable company for the evening."

"Like hell
you do. You're either after her money or her family's money."

Andrea looked
up at Alessandro, and said, "Please don't be offended by my husband,
Alessandro. He's having trouble accepting the fact that there are men who might
find a better use for me than just for verbal sparring."

Alessandro let
out a deep laugh, and said, while peering down at her, "I assure you,
cara
mia
, what I have in mind for us after
we return from the Pirate's Cove tonight will be anything
but
verbal sparring." He looked at Jerry. "So if you'll
excuse us,
senor
..." He took
Andrea's arm and ushered her toward the gangway where passengers were
disembarking.

Andrea resisted
the urge to look back, because if she did, she might see the look of anger and
disbelief on Jerry's face that came when she announced Alessandro wore a thong,
and go rushing back to assure him that nothing happened between them, that
she'd been passing on something Val told her because he was so sure Alessandro
was only after her for her money. But by tomorrow, she might not be able to
give him that assurance. It was clear what Alessandro had in mind for later,
and if she returned to the ship in high-spirits from the effects of one or more
tropical drinks, and Alessandro got a little playful the way Jerry once did,
she might throw all her inhibitions to the wind and enjoy with Alessandro what
she once enjoyed with Jerry...

"It's a
little walk to the Pirate's Cove," Alessandro said, guiding her by the
elbow, "but it will give you a chance to see the village."

"That's
fine," Andrea replied, trying to keep her mind off what Jerry must be
thinking, though she owed him no explanation about what was going on in her
life, or whether or not she was romantically or sexually involved with
Alessandro Cavallaro. Still, she wondered...

Alessandro
curved his arm around her shoulders, gathering her against him. "It's a
nice town," he said, drawing her attention to the line-up of businesses
along the main street of Andros Town: a grocery, a liquor store, a bank,
several
shops peddling local crafts and souvenirs, and
restaurants touting Bahamian food. Leaving the main street, they walked through
a labyrinth of narrow lanes lined with pastel-painted houses, and as dusk was
fading, they turned down an unlit street bordered by buildings in various
stages of renovation and decay...

And that was
when Andrea felt her first twinge of apprehension...

...I know all about gigolos and purse
snatchers and walking alone at night, and all the other dangers lurking out
there...

Her own words.
She glanced at Alessandro's profile, now almost masked by darkness. What did
she really know about the man? He claimed he had a yacht and a villa, and Val
reaffirmed it. But how credible is the word of a woman who was after Jerry for
his money? In fact, Val and Alessandro could be a working team. She was on the
verge of insisting Alessandro take her back to the ship, when he announced,
"Here we are."

Andrea stared
at the weather-worn sign with the words, The Pirate's Cove, scrawled in white
paint by an imperfect hand. An overhead light, mounted on a tall pole, lit up
the front of the building. An eclectic-looking structure made from weathered
boards, The Pirate's Cove was anything but what Andrea was expecting.

Alessandro,
seeing her uncertainty, curved his arm around her shoulders, drawing her to
him, and said, "Don't worry, the place might look like a pirate's den but
the food is incomparable. And you won't find a tourist here."

…a place for lovers...

Andrea glanced
at Alessandro. He'd given her no reason to mistrust him. When she was drowsy
from the effects of the drink he'd prepared in his stateroom the night before,
he could have taken advantage of her, but didn't. And he wasn't now. He was
simply taking her to a place away from the mainstream, where islanders went to
eat Bahamian food...