"The grouper isn't bad at all," Diana said, licking her fingers. "But the conch steak is awful. It's so tough my teeth feel like they'll pop out."
"Pop out? You mean like your bosom? What an awesome thought."
Her immediate thought was to yell at him, but she stopped herself. He expected her to be embarrassed, to berate him for his drawing comments. Instead, she tried for a flirting smile. It wasn't much of one, but it was a start. "You mean that you find my bosom awesome, Lyon?"
He looked momentarily startled, and she was pleased. But it wasn't to last.
"Well," he said, tossing fish bones over his shoulder, "I'm not certain if awesome is the correct word. I do remember that your breasts more than fill my hands. And my hands, as you've noticed, are quite large." He held them up in front of him, cupping them.
She slouched forward, out of habit.
He had the bad grace to laugh. "That helps very little, my dear girl. You cannot make those lovely attributes disappear, thank the good Lord."
"What about you?"
"One look, one I-suppose-I'm-interested look, and you'll see soon enough."
"Lyon," she said, her voice thin, bordering on invisible.
He sat forward suddenly and took her hand in his. "I enjoy fencing with you. Perhaps in several decades from now, you'll be able to carry it to the finish line."
She blurted out, her eyes on his brown hand holding hers, "Hawk and Frances love each other to distraction!"
"Yes, they do," he said, lightly stroking her hand. "But it wasn't always so. Like us, in a sense, they were forced to wed each other. Frances, bless her imagination, disguised herself as a dowd, and Hawk, the blind idiot, didn't see through her disguise. When he at last saw her as the beauty she really is, the fun began."
"And you did? Saw through her disguise, I mean?"
"Yes. I was quite insightful in those days."
"You mean pre-Charlotte days?"
"If you will. Now perhaps I see things and people even more clearly. It's a beautiful evening, isn't it? I believe I'll take my constitutional." With those words, he rose and strolled away.
Diana stared after him. What game was he playing? On the heels of that thought, she began to wonder if he simply wasn't interested anymore.
It was dark and still, even the coquis and the bananaquits quiet. Diana slowly turned onto her back, careful not to disarrange the palm fronds beneath her. She tried to think of her father, of her new stepmother, but Lyon filled her mind. And her body. Her skin felt itchy, as if it were stretched too tightly over her bones. And there was that ache between her thighs that made her squirm. Where was he? Taking his wretched constitutional, she mouthed with silent sarcasm.
It was all she could do not to get up and go find him. And then do what?
She flung her arm over her eyes to shut out the moonlight and forced herself to take deep breaths.
"Diana."
His voice was quiet, yet commanding. Slowly, she moved her arm and opened her eyes. Her breathing quickened as she came up on her elbows. He was standing just outside their shelter, the moonlight streaming over his body. He was quite naked.
"Take off the chemise."
His voice remained gentle, no lurking amusement. She drew a deep breath and very slowly lifted the chemise over her head and tossed it beside her.
"I've given you enough time, have I not? You want me now."
"Yes."
Was that her voice? Wistful and filled with longing?
"I want you to remember this moment, Diana. Just as I want you to forget that evening on the Seawitch. This is the first time we will come together. When we are old and crotchety, we will still come together, but this is the first time and it is magic." At least he prayed it would resemble magic. He was so randy, so much in need of her, he just didn't know.
She thought, I haven't even touched him and yet his manhood is swelled and thrusting out from his belly. She tried to imagine how she would feel with him fully inside her.