Alone in her bunk, Ava hugged her pillow to her chest and stared into the sky through the ceiling hatch. A squadron of gulls was dipping and diving and soaring in the new-day sky, heckling one another playfully.

Who the hell was that girl on the island? Ava asked herself. O. M. G! I've just made love with the improper stranger... and a pirate no less! She knew there was no other word for it but 'wrong', and no other way for it to end but in disaster. This guy undoubtedly took his opportunities wherever and whenever he could. I've become  Adam East's latest girl-in-every-port sleazebag! My sweet lord, what was I thinking?

But Ava knew very well she hadn't been thinking. It was all about physical attraction and devilish temptation that would not be denied. A grin shaped onto her lips and she rationalized, Oh fiddle-dee-dee, who'd blame me? As Gidget would say, 'He's a Moondoggie!' And after all, he did save my life; dragged me back from hell. She squeezed the pillow tighter and wiggled her butt. She closed her eyes and replayed the island scene in her mind's eye. She was able to visualize every remarkable aspect of Adam's handsome face and faultless body. She could almost feel his deft touch, and his soft kisses, and that long, thick penetration; her knees brushing her ears; that uncommon, filled-up sensation. These profound impressions lingered and soon transformed to quixotic dreams.

Suffice to say, Ava was worn thin; she slept till noon. At one point around mid-morning she'd been awakened by the noise of a motor boat coming alongside Vendetta. That was followed by a commotion on deck, along with voices –those of two men besides Adam's. The boat departed soon afterward and then she'd heard a clamor in the salon. It sounded as though Adam were rearranging the furniture? But it went on only a short while and Ava had drifted back into her lazy slumber.

When she next awoke, Ava was fully rested but she was aware she had been awakened by a new sensation. She lay still a few moments before realizing its source: Vendetta was under way! Ava could feel the bunk resonating in harmony with the muted rumble of the diesel engine. She rolled on to her side and looked out the porthole. Nothing but Big Blue. She crawled to starboard and flipped open that porthole. Again, Big Blue, all the way to the far horizon.

She climbed into the cotton drawstring pants she had found, folded up the leg bottoms and then pulled on one of Adam's wife-beater tank tops.

Vendetta was rolling and pitching and Ava almost lost her balance a couple of times. She tied a knot in the bottom of the shirt so she didn't look like a street urchin and then headed into the salon. She noticed the door to the guest cabin was closed. Hmm, Ava wondered, what had he loaded in there? A strange apprehensive roil turned in her tummy. She didn't know whether the cause was the sea, or the unknown.

She tentatively climbed the companionway steps and then popped her head into the startling daylight.

Adam was wildly cranking the main-sheet winch. He made a gesture with his chin for her to look toward the bow. She turned, and at that moment the Gulf trade winds filled the huge brilliant white sail; it boomed like a canon-shot, stretched taut, strained the rigging.

Adam killed the engine. Vendetta heeled to starboard and then leapt forward under harnessed, natural power. Ava shrieked with excitement as a big turquoise wave exploded under the bow, throwing a fantail of spray back over her and Adam.

Adam trimmed the sail to best advantage and Vendetta responded with smooth, powerful speed. She surfed the huge ocean swell, moving from crest to trough and back again over the next crest. Her movements were a rolling rhythmic dance.

The initial nervous reaction Ava had experienced vanished in a rush of exhilaration and she knew that the three of them, she, Adam and Vendetta, were all a part of the choreography.

She looked at Adam and knew that her face must have said it all. He beamed and nodded knowingly. He said, "I know. Great, huh? After sailing like this it takes days to wipe the smile off my face. In your case I hope it takes longer; that's about the prettiest smile I've ever seen." His splendid mouth curved into a big friendly grin and his eyes shone adoringly.

Vendetta reared and plunged into a deeper trough. Ava held out her arms like an acrobat, enabling her to take a couple of weaving, precarious steps toward the port-side bench seat. She carefully turned round to lower herself, but in the next instant the seat shot up to meet her backside with a jarring, thump! Her arms flew out once more and she latched on to a stanchion behind her.

Adam watched and smiled broadly. He made fast the main sheet then took the helm, standing at the big wheel relaxed and casual as a chai tea, his body moving almost imperceptibly to the rhythm of the boat and sea. He said, "Don't worry, Slim, you'll get your sea legs. Pretty soon it'll seem strange walking on dry land."

"Hmm, I don't see that happening in this lifetime," she returned skeptically. "Am I going to get seasick?"

"Nah. Come here." He offered his hand.

Ava stretched out her arm to its furthest extent then stood on spread legs –she felt like Bambi on ice. She paused, waiting for the point-in-time when Vendetta was between rearing and plunging.

Ava lunged and Adam grabbed her hand. He deftly slotted her between himself and Vendetta's big destroyer wheel. He took hold her hands and placed them at ten- and two-o'clock.

"Now, relax," he instructed. "Feel the deck beneath your feet. Focus your eyes on the horizon. Think of it as if you're dancing. Let Vendetta lead."

Ava did relax. And she followed Adam's directions. But at the same time she was profoundly aware of his arms round her shoulders; his hands over hers, demonstrating the gentle touch required on the wheel; and his body pressed against hers, moving with shades of tango, salsa and rumba.

Adam was clothed in nothing but the board shorts he'd offered her on the islet. They were riding low on his hips. The sea-scent and the feel of his bare skin were dizzying; it was kid-glove supple and seemed a contradiction to his hard, lean muscularity. Vivid recollections of last night's beach scene flashed strobe-like through Ava's mind again. She'd almost forgotten it, as though it'd been a dream. It had seemed a dream. But it wasn't. She and this... stranger, this criminal, had engaged in the most intimate sex Ava had ever fancied, or dreamed. But she decided now wasn't the time for rationalization. Rather, she would indulge in the now.

Adam stayed behind Ava at the huge wheel and explained the basics of sailing as she became increasingly more comfortable with the feel of Vendetta.

He showed her how to reef in the sail for high-wind sailing; how to set the self-steering mechanism; how to point the bow into the wind and then bring her about to the opposite tack; how to trim the sail to achieve the best wind advantage.

Ava seemed to be a natural and she was ecstatic at each newly-learned skill. At one point she clarified, "So Vendetta is a catboat. And it's called a catboat because it has a single main sail with no... jib, like a sloop has... right?"

"You got it, Slim," Adam confirmed, proudly. "And that makes Vendetta a helluva lot easier to single-hand. So, take her away... she's all yours."

Adam left Ava alone at the wheel. She had gotten the hang of it. She stood with her legs braced comfortably, the heavy teak wheel sliding easily through her fingers, Vendetta responding as though a veteran were at the helm.

Ava was thrilled. She loved the feel of Vendetta's wood-strip deck under her bare toes even more now that she was a partner in the sailing.

Adam lounged on the rear seat of the cockpit and allowed her complete control. He had set the heading on the binnacle-mounted compass and instructed her on holding course.

"If you spot anything," he commented casually, "especially a big tanker, let me know... We don't want to get run over or anything, huh?" he added quickly –with what appeared to be an afterthought– before Ava had time to pose a question.

But after pondering the situation awhile, Ava twisted her head to ask the question: What exactly are we doing out here?

But Adam's eyes were closed so she decided to let it go, for now. After all, he undoubtedly had no opportunity for sleep subsequent to their moonlight... activities. Poor guy. She'd noticed he'd used the time to re-assemble the tender engine, and then there were the mysterious mid-morning visitors, followed by the baffling thumping and bumping activity in the salon, and then he'd gotten them under way. But, she then thought warily, under way to where?

Ava had come back to reality. It was as though a toppled jar of black ink had spread over her heart. Her thoughts and mood were overcome by a foreboding and weighty gloom.

When she turned again and looked at Adam East, she saw him through rational eyes shrouded by the dark veil of fear and suspicion.