Rapture's Rendezvous (6 page)

Maria leaned down over Alberto, trying to shade him with her body. Now the rains would be welcome, for the sun was even worse punishment as it continued to beat down onto Maria's head, making her scalp tingle in a strange way. It had been this way for days. Nothing but sun and sea. The colors of blues and yellows meeting were now a constant blur to Maria. And she had to wonder if it was the same for Alberto, as his eyes looked into the distance in a bulgy, silent stare.

“Alberto?” Maria whispered, dipping a cloth into a pail of water, then touching it softly to Alberto's lips. “Please suck on this cloth. Please, Alberto. You need the moisture in your body, or you might even dehy-drate and die a slow, lingering death.” She squeezed the cloth, watching the droplets settle onto his closed lips, only to run, as drool might do, down his chin and onto his sweat-soaked shirt.

Alberto blinked his eyes and moved his head slightly, but still lay mute, as he had now since Sam's fierce blow upon the head. Maria gently turned his head and checked the head wound. It had finally quit seeping a colorless liquid. Guilt flooded her senses, as she remembered not having found the wound for two full days after his accident. Even the ship's doctor hadn't seen it. Doctor Rawson had fleetingly checked Alberto over, saying he would be all right in time, to not fret. But when Maria had continued to worry as each day had passed, seeing no change whatsoever in Alberto she had insisted that Doctor Rawson take a closer look at Alberto. That was when the head wound had been discovered.

“It don't look good, missic,” Doctor Rawson had drawled in a cockney sort of dialect. “It appears to me that your brother might or might not make it now that I see his head. Sure willpower will be the only thing to pull him through now. We will just have to wait and see.”

“You
will
be all right, Alberto,” Maria said, smoothing his shirt with her hand, so wanting him to awaken and pull her into his arms, to reassure her that indeed he would arrive on America's soil with her. Even to think of seeing his body heaved from the ship,
into the ocean that had become a grave for many since having left Italy, made Maria's stomach turn into massive quivers.

Looking down into her pail of water, fear gripped her heart even more. What had been rationed her and all on board just wasn't enough to keep her and Alberto's tongues wet, let alone to use it for anything else. Her eyes searched all around her, seeing all the others who were suffering from different maladies. The ugly moods of the weather continued to take their toll. Coughs and sneezes wracked all, it seemed. The children were the ones who had managed to stay the healthiest. But the elderly? So many . . . oh, so many hadn't made it.

Maria clutched at her chest, coughing herself. Her eyes continued to travel through the throngs of people lining the rails of the ship, now looking for the familiar stance of Michael. He had let her be … since that night she had attacked him verbally for his having spoken so wickedly of her and Alberto's relationship.

Now? She wished that her stubborn side hadn't been dominant that night. Now? She wished she had said yes to Michael's invitation for her and the wounded Alberto to share his cabin. Ah, to be in the comfort of his cabin . . . attired in comfortable clothes . . . being given all she desired to eat and drink. Yes, even Alberto would most surely agree that that would have been best for them. Maria now feared that Alberto might possibly have a sunstroke, instead of the usually fatal disease called pneumonia. She hadn't decided yet which was the worst. These past several days she had seen so much of both.

Feeling suddenly exhausted, and oh, so sad, Maria
stretched her legs out beside the bunk, pulling her breeches legs up beyond her ankles, and placed her head on Alberto's chest, sighing. She again hadn't seen Michael, but she knew that he was smart to stay below deck, where he was able to forget the stench of top deck and all those who were suffering so.

With tears burning at the corner of her eyes, Maria took one of Alberto's hands in hers and let herself be lost to all that was around her … dreaming sweeter dreams than those of the present. .. reliving her one time with Michael. . . wishing it could be again. She didn't see Alberto's lips begin to move, or feel his heartbeats hasten against her cheek. .. .

Alberto was aware of Maria's closeness. He wanted to reach out to her. Comfort her. Explain how he had happened to ignore her that day. Explain how he had happened to be below deck . .. where Sam had assaulted him. . . .

Alberto had loved the feel of the cards between his fingers and the power that each card represented when he would spread them out, face side up, on the ship's flooring before him. He had found that the Aces were the best to be dealt, and that he had been dealt many of those. It was all so vivid in his mind now … so easy to recall. . ..

“Damn lucky, ain't ya, lad?” one man sneered, dealing cards once again, as Alberto scraped in his winnings.

“Yeah. Guess I am,” Alberto boasted. He liked the coins even as much as the green bills. He knew that if he had several of those, there were many things that could be bought for himself. His eyes traveled behind him,
smelling the sweetness of the beautiful lady who was leaning over him, running her fingers through his hair. When their eyes met, she winked enticingly toward him, licking her lips, making her painted lips shine like fresh raindrops just fallen onto the petals of a rose. Velvet. Pure velvet. That was what her lips were, he thought hungrily to himself. When he looked lower, he could feel his face reddening. What lay before him were two mountains of breasts, heaving, trying to fall free from the dress that revealed the deepest of cleavage and the smallest of waists.

Turning, Alberto placed his cards in his hands, smiling widely, spreading the cards, seeing three Aces and two Kings. Yes. A full house was what the men had called this. Surely he was going to win again. Damn. How had he ever existed without playing this exciting game? He felt more alive now than ever before.

“What's yore bet, lad?” a man with a heavy beard and cigar hanging from between his lips asked.

“The highest I can go,” he said daringly.

“What's that you say?” another shouted, frowning.

“What's the highest I can bet?”

Laughter bounced from man to man. “All of it, sonny boy,” one encouraged. “All the damn money in yore pocket if.ya be brave enough to do it.”

Alberto ran his fingers across his brow, contemplating his fate. His eyes jerked from one man to another, seeing apprehension, possibly even fear etched across their faces. “All I have?” he said softly.

The man next to Alberto spat chewing tobacco into the wind, and with an elbow, nudged Alberto in the side. “Shore, son,” he boomed. “Why not? What do ya have to lose?” Then he tore into a fit of laughter, taking
his billed hat from his head, tapping it against his leg, watching Alberto's reaction.

Setting his jaw firmly, Alberto searched inside his pockets. He felt that he was being made fun of. He felt that they didn't think he was smart enough to know what he was doing. Well, he would show them. He had won so much, what would it matter if he lost this time? And, anyway, he had given Maria the largest amount of their money to keep safe.

His heart stopped short. His head swung around, seeing the absence of Maria beside their bunks.
Oh, God,
he thought to himself. Where was she? Then his eyes captured her hat. .. lying on deck. . ..

He pushed himself up with one quick motion, ready to dash back to where he had left Maria, when soft hands covered his own.

“Where're you goin', darlin'?” the honey-dipped voice said from behind him.

Alberto felt something tighten in his groin as he turned and found this beautiful creature moving closer to him, placing her body so close he could feel the largeness of her breasts crushing against him. His eyes glanced downward, seeing the deep cleavage once again and what lay on each side. His manhood began to swell inside his breeches, suddenly feeling a need he had for so long been forced to keep quelled. And now? Was this lady .. . willing … to let. . . him … ? His eyes widened when he felt a hand brush lower, against the tightness of his breeches.

Loud laughter brought him to his senses. The men were all watching, enjoying his embarrassment of the moment. He looked down into the eyes of this woman … the eyes of a cat. .. so green and flashing. ..
then pulled her lips to his and damn well showed the men that.he indeed knew what to do under such circumstances. He even grew bold enough to let a hand wander upward and touch the softness of the flesh of a breast. His heartbeats consumed him as his fingers continued to explore, circling this part of a woman he up to now had only been able to admire from afar. He had so often wanted to even touch Maria … but had been afraid to ask….

“Hey!” a man boomed from the ship's deck. “Are ye a goin' to play cards or pussy?”

Hating to set this woman free, Alberto clung for a moment longer, then whispered into her ear, “You're so beautiful.”

“Win this hand and ya can touch more than my tits, darlin',” she whispered back-, blowing into his ear, making goose bumps ride his spine.

“Then win it I shall,” he said, giving her breast just one more squeeze. “And your name? What might it be?”

“Just call me Grace,” she said, giggling.

Alberto had to join in the quiet laughter. Grace didn't seem the appropriate name for a woman who gave of her body so freely. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now, except that knowing how to win at cards would be to also win at something even more important. He would soon know the secrets that lay hidden beneath a woman's skirt.

“Let me win this hand,” he said. “Then we can get on with the most pleasurable side of life.” He released his hold on her, smiling crookedly. Scooping the cards back up into his hands, he squatted and checked them once again. Yes. He had a winning hand. Yes. He
would bet all he had in his pockets. With one thrust, he threw all his coins and green bills onto the pile of money that had already been bet by the other men.

With a pounding heart, he watched as each man spread his cards out on the floor in front of them, revealing a various assortment of what could be winning hands . . . except that Alberto's had the most Aces, with two Kings to confirm his win.

“Damn it all to hell,” one man grumbled, puffing angrily on his cigar. “A damn full house. You did it again, lad. Don
¹
know how, since you never did play before. But, you sure as hell took my money from me.”

“I'm quitting for a while, gents,” Alberto said, grinning from ear to ear. “I've better things to do, if you know what I mean.” He began to pull the money toward him, but was stopped when a boot lowered, to rest on his hand. He looked up into beady, dark eyes, surrounded by thick, scraggly whiskers.

“Not so fast, sonny boy,” the man said, increasing his weight on Alberto's hand, making Alberto wince.

“I won fair and square,” Alberto said, feeling the bones in his fingers straining to be set free.

The man glowered, spitting chewing tobacco next to Alberto's knee. “In this game o' chance, you don' just play to keep the money,” he said darkly. “You give the men a chance to win it all back. Don' you see? Tha's part o' this game, sonny boy.”

Grace moved lithely toward this man attired in garments that reeked of sweat and tobacco juices. “Now, Sam,” she purred, wrapping her fingers around his hand, squeezing it. “You know it doesn't really matter. Now does it?”

The low-cut dress gaped open even more at the top,
catching Sam's eyes. Grace swung her hips around so the back of her arched against the front of Sam, then back around so her breasts barely brushed against his arm. “Do you understand? Huh?” she added, winking.

Sam's face became all smiles as his foot released Alberto's hand. “Sure. Don' know whut I was a thinkin' on,” Sam laughed. He reached down and began to help Alberto with the money, even thrusting it into Alberto's breeches pockets. “Go on, lad,” he added. “Take yore leave. Damn sorry if I bothered you. Don' know what gets in my head at times.”

Alberto's thoughts were swirling, not understanding at all what could have changed this man's mind so fast. But one look upward at Grace made him understand how and why any man could be swayed by such a smile as hers. And her fingers. She did have a way of touching a man. How could any man say no to her?

A slight tinge of jealousy raced through Alberto, though. He knew that Sam would more than likely b'e reaching up inside Grace's skirt also, probably even right after Alberto had finished. It was apparent that this was Grace's way of life. He knew that it should disgust him, but it only excited him more.

Leaning down, Grace whispered into Alberto's ear. “Ready?” she said. “I have a cozy cabin below deck. I'll show you things there you never dreamed imaginable.”

Feeling the pulsebeat quickening in his throat, Alberto pushed the last of the money inside his pockets and straightened his back. “Show the way,” he said, putting his arm around Grace's waist, following along beside her. He felt proud that he was one of the many who had first chance with Grace this day. Maybe if he played this newest deck of cards right, he could spend
even the full day with her.

With a fleeting glance around him, pangs of conscience pierced his heart, like arrows being shot into it. He knew that he should be searching for Maria, but knew also that this chance to be with a woman might be too fleeting to pass by. And wasn't Maria capable of taking care of herself? Surely she was just wandering around on top deck, exploring, as she was prone to do. He had teased her about this adventurous side to her nature many times. So often while on the outskirts of Pordenone, she would tarry behind and get lost in some field, straying, hunting for some beautiful butterfly, or dog that had gone yapping into the underbrush. Surely she was only noseyingabout now. The rains had washed the decks clean. Before, she hadn't wanted to wander off because of the filth. Now? She had reason to.