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The designated driver was still there when they got to the parking lot. He helped her into the Porsche and climbed in after her. The driver knew just where to take them to without being told and she concluded that he must have been preinformed. He took them to the other side of the hotel, the side facing the sea. He stopped at the place vehicle could get to and parked the automobile.
'We have arrived at your destination sir and madam. I hope you have a wonderful dinner,' the driver said courteously.
'Thank you, and have a wonderful night,' she replied him.
'I wish it for you too.' She hoped so more than ever that her night with Clement would go very well, be wonderful.
Clement helped her out of the automobile as he had already disembarked. He led her down a beautiful pedestrian stone walkway which upended at the seashore. She had a little trouble walking with her stiletto heels on the sandy bank, but Clement was there for her to lean upon, to steady her. They turned to the left and walked for no less than three minutes before she saw the yachts, not one, not two but eleven -she had counted- out on the sea. There were others, docked, not in use. She wowed internally, amazed.
'We are here my sweet,' he told her when they upended at a small shore house which was wonderfully shining with lights of varying colours. It was connected to a pier which was also lined with those various colours of lights that gave off an iridescent lighting. They entered into the shore house which was designed as a reception. 'Wait here,' he ordered her. She nodded at the instruction. He left her standing there and went to the receptionist. They talked for a minute or two before he presented her something from his pocket, pieces of blue paper. She wondered what it was. He handed her his complimentary card after a second. Anger shut up her guts, tasting weird in her mouth. Why the hell was he giving her his complimentary card? And why was the receptionist smiling at him with all that she had? She was just about to storm up to them and ask those very questions when she saw him take the complimentary card back and put it in his pocket. He turned away from the still sheepishly smiling lady and walked up to her with a smile on his face.
'Why did you take so long?' she asked him with a pout when he reached her. He studied her with a lazy smile, finding the pout cute.
'I had to settle a small misunderstanding about my identity,' he told. 'Apparently, another Clement booked a yacht for the same time which I did. I was just clarifying with her which yacht setting is really mine.'
'And that setting would be?' she asked him.
'I booked a yacht with a romantic dinner, candle light preferably and an invisible crew,' he explained to her. She nodded, assimilating it all.
'I think you forgot to mention the king sized bed decorated with roses,' she teased him. He couldn't help but chuckle. She got him real good.
'It wasn't included, my sweet, to begin with,' he said to her with a satisfied smirk. Well, he got her real good this time for it was her turn to laugh helplessly.
'You are a rogue, a cheap tease,' she insulted him with a playful sneer. She saw and felt the change in his gaze. He was no longer looking at her in the way that he normally did. He was looking at her in a peculiar kind of way that made her duodenum go inside out. He was gazing at her in the way one would gaze at the sky through a telescope, as if she was the very centre of his world. It was a feeling she knew well.
'J'aimer te mon amour,' he suddenly said to her with a storm of emotions in his dark eyes. 'Je ne pas mieux que a faire l'amour a toi,' he continued in a sensual whisper that seemed to go farther than her body, permeable, caressing her soul, depleting her of fear.
'What are you say-'
'Madam, sir,' they both turned to the voice that had interrupted her. It belonged to one of the hotel's escort. 'Your yacht is perfect, ready for you both. Come on, I will lead you to it,' he said with a smile.
'Go on, thank you,' Clement urged. The escort nodded, turned and began to do so. Clement took her hand in his and they followed him, down the pier to the yacht that was currently docked.
It was a pretty little white thing, filled with lights that exuded a romantic feeling. Just how much had he spent on it all? She had no time to dwell on it for he was taking her aboard the vessel before she could comprehend a single thing. He navigated the white sailboat as if it belonged to him –well she would have no doubts if he indeed told her so. There was soft music playing in the background and the crew was preparing to raise the anchor and sail out, into the sea.
'It's wonderful,' she murmured.
'Come he,' urged her with a smile as if she really needed coercing with him. 'Come to see the expanse of the sea with me my love,' she nodded and he led her to the leeward side. He let go of her hands and held the railing, staring at the dark deep blue ocean. She joined him in his stance, feeling how refreshing it was to do so. They stood like that for a while, basking in the coolness of the spot and the calmness of the night.
'Clement,' she called suddenly.
'Ummh?' he answered, turning to her. She stared at him with eyes that held deep emotions.
'Thank you,' were the only words that she uttered. He nodded and smiled at her. She returned the gesture.
'I love you Chloe,' he said. 'That is what I said to you earlier in French.'
'I figured it was something like that with the look on your face,' she said with a titter.
'You smart alec,' he mused. 'Come, come my love, let's go eat,' he called to her. 'I told them to prepare Wolof rice and boneless chicken with fried dodo and peppered snail. You do not mind, do you?' he inquired.
'Whatever is fine by me Clement,' she admitted, already salivating at the mention of fried dodo. She loved the delicacy so-and-so. She had realized just how hungry she was when he had actually mentioned food.
'If you say so,' was his reply, and then he led her to dinner. The table setting was the bomb, spectacular. The round table for two was laid with a white table cloth, embroidered at the borders with red and gold roses. There was a huge flower vase in the centre. It was also the candle holder, holding about five candles, all lit. The candles and the dim background light was the only sort of light in the space. She reckoned from the steam coming from the wheel able buffet that dinner had just been served. Well, the crew was really good at being invisible if they could actually pull this off under their noses. She liked it anyways for it gave off a false sense of privacy.
'I like hot food,' she muttered inaudibly.
'What do you say mi querida?' he queried. 'Do you like it?' she nodded.
'I totally love this!'
'I'm glad that you do Mon Coeur.' He helped her into her seat. Then, he took one as well. He clapped his hands twice and two waiters and a waitress appeared. They began serving the food. She marveled at the trick. She knew not where they had come from. They disappeared just the way they had come, like thin air. 'Let's eat,' he told her, descending upon his meal.
Dinner was a quick affair, both too hungry to eat and discuss anything. After the dinner, they talked a little with Chinwem monitoring the desire that cackled between them now and then like lightning during the rain, like electricity during a power malfunction. He led her to a very good spot, bright and a clap brought music. They danced there, slowly, basking in the warmth of each other's bodies. His hands travelled over her, studying her body, caressing and acquainting as languorously as he could.
'Chloe,' he said the moment his hands stopped trailing her body, finally resting on her plump behind. She hmmed him an answer and looked up at him. 'Let's go home.' She nodded. He clapped his hand. An escort came out of nowhere. 'Please, we will like to go back to the shore, lead us,' he instructed. It was then that she really realized that they were indeed going home. The escort nodded and walked ahead of them. He took her hand in his and followed the escort towards an end of the yacht. He stopped and talked to his fellow escort who also appeared from nowhere at his intrusion. They came to a conclusion on whatever they discussed and in about ten minutes, she and Clement were in a speed boat with an escort driving them to shore.
Their designated driver was still there when they returned to the shore, at the place where they had left him previously. He welcomed them back and opened the door. Clement helped her into the automobile, trying his best to not touch too much of her lest he explode. The driver took them back to the hotel, noticing the choking sexual tension in the car. The drive was as silent as it was apprehensive. She was alarmed and confused when he drove past the hotel and towards the huge brown security gates.
'Where is he taking us?' she asked Clement whose eyes were closed as if in sleep. He opened his eyes, hearing the alarm in her voice.
'I instructed him to take us to the airport,' he told her simply and relaxed again.
'But,' she began, 'but what about our luggage? They are at the hotel,' she protested.
'Don't worry ma mignon dame,' he said without opening his eyes, 'they are safe in the trunk.' This information left her thoroughly surprised. When had all these been done? When had he ordered whoever to do whatever? She leaned back completely to think properly. They were indeed going right home she told herself for the most umpteenth time. She assured herself once more that there was really no king sized bed with roses sprinkled generously over it. She should have been happy, relaxed, but she was not. She felt high and dry, bothered.