Delia's Heart (Delia 2) - Page 83

“Where are the sails?” I asked.

“There are no sails. It’s a powerboat. My father bought it last year from a friend of his, and we actually have used it only a half-dozen times since.”

He grabbed his small bag, and we stepped out of the car.

A tall, thin man in a T-shirt and jeans stepped out onto the deck as we walked to the boat’s slip.

“Everything’s set for you, Mr. Bovio,” he said. “The kitchen’s stocked just as you requested. She’s gassed up and ready.”

“Thank you, Bill,” Adan said, and turned to me. “I was thinking last night and decided it would be stupid to get off the boat for lunch. We’ll dock and have our own lunch on the boat, okay?”

“Yes,” I said, still wide-eyed.

“Let’s tour the boat first,” he said, and the man he called Bill extended his hand to help me board. Then he nodded at Adan and got off.

“Thanks, Bill. See you later,” Adan told him.

He brought me first to the bridge to show me the boat’s sophisticated electronics. We had to climb a short ladder. There were two brand-new-looking comfortable chairs in front of the panel in the up position. He explained it all, the radar, the sonar, all of it, but I heard very little. It wasn’t that it was too complicated for me as much as that I was still in awe.

Through a portal under the bridge, we entered a small living room with a television set, leather sofa and salon chairs, a small kitchen with modern appliances and a small dining table. There was a short stairway from the salon to the staterooms, where there were two queen-size berths and room for two more in bunks, bathrooms, a sitting area with a desk and two full bathrooms with showers. There was even a clothes washer and dryer.

“You could live on this boat,” I said, and he laughed.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it from time to time. C’mon, let’s get started.”

We went back upstairs, and he got the engines going. He was very proud of the boat and couldn’t stop explaining and describing everything about it. Soon he realized he was going too quickly and too far over my head.

“Don’t worry about any of it,” he said, laughing again. “You’re here to enjoy the day, not buy the boat.”

“Buy the boat?” I couldn’t imagine anyone having enough money to do so.

He smiled and began to take us out to sea, moving slowly at first. I could see from the concentration in his eyes that when it came time to do what had to be done, he was very serious and precise. Then he smiled a little impishly and sped up. We bounced over the waves so hard I screamed. But it was very exciting. After a while, he let me steer the boat and taught me some of the most basic things. I had no idea how much time had gone by, but when we were far enough out, he cut off the engines and said it was time for a cool drink. He lowered the anchor and we returned to the galley, where I saw the refrigerator had been stocked with far more food than we could eat.

“There’s cold lobster salad, shrimp salad, cold cuts, a Greek salad, breads, delicious desserts, and champagne if you want any. You ever had a mimosa?”

“Yes. I know what it is,” I said.

“Good. I’ll make you one. For today, I’ll be the waiter. You go up to the deck and make yourself comfortable. You have your bathing suit?”

“Sí,” I said, already blushing at the thought of stripping down to it.

“Perfect. It’s going to get hot. Even just dipping into the sea will be delightful.”

I went up to the deck. The boat bobbed in the ocean but not badly. He was right about how hot it felt with no clouds and the sunlight reflected off the surface of the ocean. Very self-consciously, I took off my outfit and spread one of the large terry towels on a chaise. There was even sunscreen set out for us. I rubbed it into my much-exposed body and lay back on the chaise. Except for the occasional sound of a tern or another motorized boat in the distance, it was peaceful. The movement of the boat quickly lulled me into a comfortable daze, bordering on sleep. I didn’t even realize Adan had come up with a tray carrying two mimosas in champagne-style glasses and a platter of cheese, fruit, and crackers. When I opened my eyes, I saw him standing there gazing at me.

“Oh,” I said, sitting up.

“You are truly a beautiful girl, Delia. Woman, I should say.”

“Gracias, Adan.”

“Here, try one of these.”

He set the tray on a small table and organized a chaise for himself. I sipped the drink. It was refreshing and didn’t taste at all like anything alcoholic, but I knew it was, of course.

“It’s good?”

“Yes.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Delia Horror
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