WE SIT ACROSS EACH OTHER at a table set at the balcony of the villa.

Jeff’s right. The sunset on Saffron Isle is spectacular.

As I sip red and look at the impressionistic blend of orange, yellow and blue softly fading into the horizon, I feel utter peace for the first time in months. I love the sunsets at Everland, but this sunset is different somehow. It must be the person I’m with.

Minutes later, we’re having an intimate candlelit dinner prepared by the island’s chef. Adriano has made it really special with flowers and expensive silverware and even soft music in the background. Tonight’s menu is Mediterranean.

“How was your last one-and-a-half hour?” Jeff asks me as we both go through the second course.

“Great. I saw some awesome stuff. The sculptures and murals are incredible.”

“Remember what I told you about this island being income-generating?”

“Yes?”

“Well, my sister Nicolette has an art gallery in New York. She invited artists from several parts of the world to stay here on the island free of charge to create art. The entire island is their studio. In return, she markets and sells their works for a percentage. She’s made quite a fortune from this business.”

“Wow! That is great!”

His brows raise with interest. “You love art?”

“Yes. I wanted to take up Fine Arts in college but decided I wasn’t artistically gifted enough to make money out of it, so I took the next best thing I thought I was good at, journalism. But I was drooling the whole time staring at your collection here.”

His eyes light up. “You would love my place in Manhattan then.”

His place in Manhattan? He means to take me there, too? I was thinking he didn’t want people to see us together so he brought me to Saffron Isle.

“I shall take you to the Met too, and the MoMA.”

I nearly whooped. I’ve been wanting to visit those places but I was too busy making money for my daily almost hand-to-mouth existence and I couldn’t afford to waste time lining up during free-entrance Fridays.

“I would love to, Jeff.”

“Consider it a date.”

A date. Why does he say things that make a woman’s heart flutter with hope? My Cinderella hormones perk up when he’d say things like that, which of course mean nothing to him.

“How was work today? You left your office in a hurry and now you’re on a long vacation. Is that normal in Supersonic Jeff’s schedule?” I ask in a teasing tone. I know for a fact that he’s a workaholic, thanks to Mama Zon’s endless tatters about her beloved Jeff. I can pretend we’re a normal couple having an ordinary dinner, telling about each other’s day.

“Core stocks dropped today.”

Core… Oh yes, those banks. We have them in Venezuela, too. “I’m sorry. How bad was it”

“You know something about the markets?”

“I used to report about it, so I understand some.”

He smiles. “Not so bad. Core Financial is poorer by a billion dollars today.”

I nearly choke on my food. I drink from my glass of water.

“I see.” A billion dollars?! Lost in one day?! Lord, what kind of money are we even talking about here? Beyond I can ever conjure in my imagination, for sure. I’m overwhelmed, but I pretend nonchalance. “Then you shouldn’t worry. I know you’ve predicted this somewhat and has done the necessary measures to safeguard your stocks. It will bounce back soon enough.”

He shrugs. “I don’t like losing.”

“I can tell. So how exactly do you feel when you’re losing or when you’ve lost?”

Oh dear, my reporter self is attempting to make a come back. I remind myself not to be too nosy. But honestly, I really want to get to know him, too. I want to know things I haven’t heard from Mama Zon. His thoughts. His feelings.

“Obsessive to get back. Like murderous. I’m really allergic to losing. Brainwashed from childhood to be a sore loser, I guess.”

I nod. There’s a melancholy in his tone that tugs at my heartstrings. I wonder about his childhood. Was he a happy kid?

“I wouldn’t want to be on your bad side then.” Teasing him seems to come naturally to me now. Saffron Isle is casting some magic over us.

He smiles. “Never. You’re on my good side, Mara. Very good side.”

“Never say never.”

We continue eating in comfortable silence. This night is turning out to be one the most perfect nights in my life. After having my body scrubbed and waxed where it mattered, I had a whole body massage at the spa earlier, then I had a nap aboard a luxurious jet, and then I soaked in a hot tub with vanilla scented water while gazing at the bluest ocean, and now I’m having a sumptuous dinner with the only man who has managed to make me feel so beautiful and somewhat safe.

I can get stuck on this island with him forever.

“Tell me more about yourself, Mara.”

She’s not good at hiding her feelings. She looks visibly alarmed. I wonder why?

The Private Investigator I hired to do a background check on Mara hasn’t come back to me yet with any report. I did some Googling myself last night. She was indeed telling the truth about being a journalist in her country. There were a few videos of her on YouTube, some segments of her doing news reporting from the field. Her career started as a young journalist actively following the last days of Hugo Chavez’ political career. I found a few critical articles she wrote in some news blogs about Chavez and his party’s dictatorial style of government, suppressing freedom of the press, and rampant corruption in his government.

I also found myself admiring her guts to be outspoken in a time where the regime of Chavez reigned supreme until his death only a few years ago. Mara continued to criticize the man who took Chavez’ place as President of Venezuela, Nicolas Maduro.

Then her parents died in a tragic car crash. This was big news all over Caracas where Mara had gained some popularity as a young but feisty journalist openly critical of Chavez, a fete that not many seasoned journalists would have the courage to do. After her parents’ death, it was reported that Mara quit her job and was never heard of since. I knew why. She came to America.

“W-what do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your family.”

“My parents…” She blinks rapidly. Her eyes have gone moist. “They’re dead. I was an only child.”

I immediately regret asking her about this. What was I thinking? It’s obvious she’s still grieving.

“I’m sorry. It must be very painful for you, losing them like that.”

“Like…what?”

“That tragic car accident?”

“How…?”

“I Googled you some. You were quite popular in your country.”

She lowers her eyes. “That part of my life is no more.”

The abject sadness I’m seeing in her face tugs at my chest. I feel my insides clenching and I have the biggest urge to comfort her, take her in my arms.

“I’m sorry, Mara. I shouldn’t have brought the subject up. Forgive me.”

She smiles at me wanly. “No…no…it’s your right to know some things about me since you hired me for this…for this job.”

I smile back at her kindly. My lust is momentarily doused by her obvious pain. I’m desperate now to bring back the sparkle in her eyes. Fuck, I’m such an insensitive jerk.

“I’m glad you chose to come to America.”

She shrugs. “I guess Uncle Sam is partial to people who criticize Chavez and Maduro. My tourist visa was granted so fast. Too bad they can’t extend it.”

I admire her for her sense of humor despite the obvious pain in her heart.

“The man has been Uncle Sam’s biggest pain in Latin America in his heyday.”

Her eyes widen. “You know about him?”

I definitely know more than she’s allowed to know. “The Vandercourt Group has investments in Latin America, particularly in the oil business. So yes, I know some about the man and his strong anti-US foreign policies.”

She nods, her face hinting at some hardness, but it’s quickly gone. “I see.”

“I’m forgetting my manners. Enough of politics. Tell me how you were finding Everland.”

A smile creeps back to her face. “Everland is like heaven on earth.”

I will remember this magic word. Everland. She seems to love that place.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“I swear when I first set foot in it, I thought I was in a Disney movie.”

I grin. “My great grandfather got carried away with the arches, towers and turrets. He loved Renaissance architecture and he wanted to recreate one here in America.”

“Well, it’s magical! I haven’t seen a more beautiful home.”

“Would you like to give birth there?”

Her eyes widen. Then they sparkle like diamonds. She looks incandescent now and my arousal is back in high gear. “That way you can be with Corazon and your friends when the time comes.”

“Oh Jeff, thank you. Yes. Yes!”

Fuck, I want to see those sparkles everyday. I wonder how she’d look like when she’s aroused. When I’m inside her. When she’s coming.

My balls contract, my shaft filling with more blood. I can’t endure this for much longer.

It’s time.

“Mara.”

“Yes?”

I look into her eyes with all I’m feeling. I want her to know how much I want her. I want her to feel desired. I want her to anticipate our union so that her body will open up for my seed and receive it eagerly. “You’re so beautiful.”

She turns crimson and it’s discernible even in the candle light.

“Thank you,” she replies, evading my eyes.

Her shyness is making me hornier. She’s had one boyfriend she’d said. I hope she’s not too experienced. I don’t want any competition in her mind. And If I do, I will erase that competition. Tonight. I want nothing and no one in her memories but me and my lovemaking.

Lovemaking. Not sex. I must be getting soft. But on second thought, no. I’m hard. Very very hard. “I want you so much.”

Her lashes flutter and her eyes drop to her hands on the table. She starts to fidget and squirm in her seat. I wonder if she’s getting wet for me.

My heart rate escalates with the rush of blood going to my groin. Fuck, I need to get a grip.

“Go to our room now. I’ll follow you in a bit.”

She bites her lower lip and stands up clumsily, meeting my eyes briefly.

Then she walks away and enters the villa.

I count to fifty, calming myself. My heart is thudding hard against my ribcage and the throb in my balls is both so fucking good and achingly sharp I groan under my breath.

I need to cool down.

I walk down to the infinity pool and shed my clothes down to my skivvies.

I dive into the water.