“—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. “He has said something of the sort. Love-making at first hand is dull enough. He opened the drawer of the writing table. “My parents left for Vail on a plane this morning. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. “Or I wouldn’t have said anything about it.
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