“No, this was bound to happen, they must have realized that. That one of us would stumble into a relationship and it would get serious. Well, not either of them, with their lives wrapped up in their sacred Special Ops bullshit. But it was inevitable, right? I was ready for love, and there you were at the red light one day, and then you watched while I delivered my closing argument in court the next. Okay, enough nostalgia. Lead me to the Jeep, I want to see all the wonders of Bali.”
She climbed into the Jeep and they rode along, holding hands, fingers entwined, with the incredible green beauty of the island filling their senses. In Bali green was more than a color, it was alive as it sprouted fresh and new in rice terraces that twisted and sprawled, marching in elegant symmetry up and down the hillsides. It was a cool feeling in the shade of dense stands of mangrove and coconut palms, and the smell of rivers that cut through the forest and meandered beside the road. It was the overwhelming spectacle of uncountable multitudes of flowers covering that small piece of paradise as far as the eye could see.
“I love it!” Charlotte said, kicking off her sandals and digging her toes into the golden sand once they reached the village of Tanjung Benoa. “What is this, a fishing village? I’ve heard of golden sand, but this really is amazing. It looks like a postcard with the palm trees and the bluer than blue water.”
“It is a fishing village, and there’s a yacht harbor here. I need to make a quick stop and look at a boat. It’s a boat that’s much like mine, but larger. I’ll probably buy it, because bigger is always better, right? You asked about West, my bodyguard. He’s staying in a hotel here in Benoa, and he’ll meet us on the boat. Just as a precaution, of course.”
“Oh yeah, you do have a “boat,” don’t you? A boat that’s bigger than any house I’ve ever lived in. It’s strange, you know, the things I remember and those that are still unclear. I think you took advantage of me on that very big boat, or was it the other way around? It was our first time, wasn’t it? Whoa, I just got a mental picture of the two of us in a huge shower, and I must have been feeling pretty bold.” She didn’t resist when he caught her shoulders and pulled her hard against him. There was genuine happiness on his lips and in his eyes as he bent to kiss her. He was tall and powerfully muscled and too fucking hot to resist—good thing they were in love, because everything about him made her body scream for sex. No wonder she’d said screw the California Bar Association and slept with him, even though it was so unlike her. She lived for her career and she’d given up all semblance of a social life to climb the ladder of success. But then Bly had shown up, and her hormones had taken over, and her morals and her life had taken a detour.
“Now, let’s go see the boat, then we’ll have lunch in the village and shop or whatever,” he said, his lips trailing from her mouth to her neck. “Bali is known for its pearls. You need black pearls, they’ll look stunning against your pale, graceful neck.”
*
It was a huge yacht, forty feet longer than the behemoth that Bly owned. Men and their toys, Charlotte thought, and wondered why such extravagance was necessary. West was there, as cold and detached as ever, and he spoke to one of three burly men on deck, then came down to the dock and led Bly and Charlotte on board.
“Alexander Bly, welcome aboard the Chameleon. I’m Louis Santos. Ah, and you’ve brought the sublimely lovely Charlotte with you. What an unexpected and delightful surprise. I remember you from the magazine cover, and of course from the pages inside. What man in his right mind doesn’t remember, am I right? You were, and are, intriguing to say the least.”
Louis Santos was tall, thin, and unnervingly slick. There was definitely something reptilian in his manner. Just the way he looked her over like she was a prime piece of meat sent chills up Charlotte’s spine. And when he kissed her hand, he lingered over it until he knew Bly wasn’t watching, then he grazed her palm with his tongue.
“Why don’t you give us a quick tour of the boat, Louis? We’re anxious to get back to… sight-seeing,” Bly said. He stood behind Charlotte and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder so that they stood cheek to cheek. His stance sent out an unmistakable signal: ‘Hands off, she’s mine’.
“Fine, I can see how it is. Alright then, a tour. I’d hardly call it a boat—at two hundred seventy feet, the Chameleon is a floating city. In addition to the main rooms there’s a cinema, gym, pool, rooftop spa. You’re standing aboard a world-class luxury yacht, with a crew of thirty and accommodations for thirty-two guests. Mr. Bly, your yacht is two hundred thirty feet, I believe? Well, mine would be bigger then, wouldn’t it?” Louis Santos said, and he looped his arm through Charlotte’s and led her through the overly decorated rooms.