The Last Mrs. Parrish(64)
When I met Flora, I thought she was nice enough, and his father seemed happy. They were cordial to my parents, and everyone got along fine. The next day, when my father walked me down the aisle, all I could think about was how lucky I was to have found the love of my life and to be starting a new life with Jackson.
*
“Don’t you think it’s time you let me in on the big secret?” I asked as we boarded his plane for our honeymoon. “I don’t even know if I packed the right clothes.”
He leaned in and kissed me. “Silly girl. There are suitcases upon suitcases full of clothes I’ve bought for you already on board. Just leave everything to me.”
He’d bought new clothes for me? “When did you have time to do that?”
“Don’t you worry about it, my darling. You’ll find that I’m very good at planning ahead.”
Once we got settled in our seats and I took a sip of my champagne, I tried again. “So when do I find out?”
He pulled the shade to my window down. “When we land. Now lie back and relax. Maybe even get some sleep. And when you wake up, we’ll have a little fun in the clouds.” His hand moved up and down my inner thigh as he spoke, and desire spread through me like hot liquid.
“Why don’t we have that fun right now?” I whispered as I pressed my lips against his ear.
Jackson smiled, and when I looked into his eyes, I saw the same craving I felt. He rose and took me into his muscular arms, carrying me to the bedroom where we fell to the bed, bodies entwined. We slept afterward—I’m not sure how long, but soon after we awakened and made love again, the captain phoned Jackson to let him know we would be making our descent in a few minutes. He was careful not to name a destination, but when I peered out the window, I saw miles and miles of blue water beneath us. Wherever we were, it looked like paradise. Jackson threw off the bedcovers and came to my side by the window, putting his arm around my naked waist. “See that?” He pointed to a glorious mountain that seemed to emerge like a noble monolith out of the sea. “That’s Mount Otemanu, one of the most beautiful sights in the world. And soon I’ll show you the magnificence of Bora Bora.”
Polynesia, I thought. I turned to look at him. “You’ve been here before?”
He kissed my cheek. “I have, my darling girl. But never with you.”
I was somehow disappointed but didn’t quite know how to put it into words. I made a clumsy attempt. “I just assumed we would go someplace neither of us had ever been, so that, you know, we could experience everything together. For the first time.”
Jackson pulled me down onto the bed and tousled my hair. “I’ve traveled a lot. Any place worth going to is a place I’ve been. Would you have preferred Davenport, Iowa? That’s a place I haven’t seen. You know, I did have a life before we met.”
“Of course,” I said. “I just wanted this time to be new for both of us, something only the two of us shared.” I wanted to ask him if he’d been here alone or with another woman, but I was afraid to ruin the mood even more. “Bora Bora,” I said. “It’s a place I never thought I’d go to.”
“I’ve booked an over-water bungalow. You’re going to love it, my sweet.” And he pulled me into his arms once again.
We were back in our seats as the wheels went down, and we landed at the airport on the tiny islet of Motu Mute. The door opened, and we walked down the jet stairs to be greeted by smiling islanders who draped leis around our necks. I reached out to touch his.
“I like your lei better. Blue’s my favorite color.”
He took it from his neck and put it around mine. “Looks better on you anyway. By the way, in Bora Bora, they’re called heis.”
The warm, fragrant air was intoxicating. I was already in love with the place. We were whisked by boat to our bungalow, which looked more like a lavish floating villa, with glass floors that offered a vision of the lagoon life below.
Our luggage arrived, and I changed into a casual sundress, Jackson into navy pants and a white linen shirt. His tanned skin against the white shirt made him look even more handsome, if that was possible. We had just settled on our private deck when an outrigger canoe pulled up to our bungalow to serve us champagne and caviar. I looked at Jackson in surprise. “Did you order this?” I asked.
He looked at me as if I were a naive little country girl. “This is part of the service, my dear. They’ll bring us anything we want. If we choose to stay in for dinner, they’ll bring it to us; in for lunch, we get lunch—whatever our whims dictate.” He spooned a dollop of caviar onto a round cracker and held it to my mouth. “Only the best for my girl. Get used to it.”
To tell the truth, caviar and champagne were two of my least favorite things, but I supposed I needed to develop a taste for them.
He took a long sip of champagne, and we sat there feeling the fresh air waft across our faces, mesmerized by the turquoise water before us. I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the water lapping against the pilings.
“We have a dinner reservation at eight at La Villa Mahana,” he said.
I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Oh?”
“It’s a little gem with just a few tables. You’ll love it.”
Once again I had that initial feeling of disappointment. Obviously he’d been to the restaurant before. “I suppose you can tell me precisely what to order and what the best things on the menu are,” I said, somewhat flippantly.