The Hotel Riviera(51)

He walked to the window and stood looking down at the busy street and the rows of striped cabanas dotting the long stretch of beach opposite. It was late and they were empty, the beach boys were cleaning up, shaking out the cushions, arranging the chairs back in straight lines, emptying ashtrays, raking the sand. At the edge of the water, a small girl played at chasing the sea, running forward when the wave receded, shrieking with delight when it chased her back again. Her blond hair shone in the sunlight and her happy cries delighted him. He wondered what a child of his and Evgenia’s would look like. Maybe a blond miniature of Evgenia, sweet though like this one, innocent…

Patrick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His days of innocence were almost over.

He paced the room. Back and forth, back and forth. He couldn’t go on like this much longer. The good life in a small seaside town, even in a luxury hotel, was not his idea of a good time. He needed his freedom. He needed to be “alive” again.

He contemplated the pile of dollars on the desk. Then he went into the bedroom, got dressed, brushed his hair, dabbed a hint of cologne over his unshaven stubble.

He picked up the money, sorted it into denominations, the fifties and the hundreds, and put it in his inside jacket pocket. Life was to be lived. He headed for the San Remo casino.





Chapter 49




Lola

I never wanted to leave this boat, I wanted to be rocked by the gentle sea forever. I wanted to shut out reality and curl up in Jack Farrar’s arms and not even think about the future. But two days had passed, my time was running out.

I looked at Jack, sleeping beside me in the bed built into the bow of the sloop. Outside the twin portholes, the sea lapped, tranquil as only the Mediterranean can be on a perfect night. All the portholes and doors were open and a breeze blew through the cabin, stirring Jack’s hair. I touched it; it was crisp and springy, full of life under my fingers. That’s just the way Jack was. Full of life. And now he’d brought his personal energy force into my own life. A few wonderful nights of passion was all it was going to be, then he would be on his way again. He was a true sailor, happiest when he was at sea with only his dog for company.

What went through his thoughts out there alone? I wondered. Did he think about the girls he knew? Would he think about me? Would I soon become a distant figure, a mere ghost from his past? I sighed. Jack Farrar’s future was set in stone, and my own future was dissolving before my eyes.

I wondered, briefly, where I could get the money to start up a restaurant. I’d just about scraped through financially this summer. What little “profit” there was would have to get me through the off season, though if I had to leave the hotel and find somewhere else to live, I didn’t know how I would manage. I simply didn’t have the funds.

Jack turned over, and I spooned into him, wrapped my arms around him. He was my knight in shining armor. He’d come to rescue the damsel in distress and he’d done everything he could. Jack Farrar had come to help me, not fall in love with me, and that’s just the way it was.

I pressed my body against his, breathing in the soft male scent of his skin, remembering our lovemaking these past few days. He was a tender man under that tough mariner exterior, a man sensitive enough to bring me soft-boiled eggs and toast soldiers to make me feel better, a man gentle enough to bury Scramble and plant a flower on her grave. A man who’d taken me into his sea world for a few days and looked after me as though he really loved me. And perhaps he did, I thought as I drifted off to sleep, though I guessed only for the moment, because I knew that was the way Jack was.

When I awoke, the sun was up and Jack was gone. Bad Dog was at the foot of the bed, tongue lolling, staring wonderingly at me. I patted the bed and he jumped up and nuzzled my face.

“You’re a good boy, you know that,” I said, running my fingers through his wiry fur, smiling because there was something about the mutt’s eager expression that made you smile.

Jack stood at the foot of the steps, barefoot and half-naked, looking at me. “How do you feel this morning, Lola March?” he said, coming toward me and planting a kiss on my mouth. His skin was damp from his swim and he smelled briny and fresh and of all things simple and good.

I flung back the sheet and wriggled to the foot of the bed. “I’m going swimming,” I said, “catch me if you can.” I dashed through the small cabin up the few steps onto the deck. I posed there, naked, arms above my head, just the way Jack had the first time I had seen him, then I dived. The cool clear water closed over me, shocking my sleepy body awake, sending tingles of pleasure through every nerve ending.

I opened my eyes and peered into a crystalline world. Tiny fish darted all around me, scared no doubt by my large presence. I stayed under until I could breathe no longer, then I shot to the surface like a cork from a champagne bottle, laughing and yelling. Next minute, Jack had jumped in, followed by Bad Dog, and we all dog-paddled around, chasing each other and laughing. Oh, it was so good to feel so happy, so carefree, so alive. I never wanted this moment to end.

But, as no doubt Miss N would have said, all good things must end, which I certainly hoped was not true, but in this case I knew it was. Back on the sloop, I showered the salt water from my body, pulled on my shorts and one of Jack’s T-shirts—I hadn’t brought any clothes with me in our spur-of-the-moment getaway. I ran a comb through my long wet hair, pushed the bangs out of my eyes, and scooped it all back in a ponytail. Then I joined Jack on deck.