Ariana sat in the bow watching the waves roll past to either side as the sailboat cut a swift line through the watery grayness. Looking straight ahead, unable to see the craft upon which she sat, it was as if it were her alone moving through the ocean at breakneck speed, soaring above the waves, water rushing past. The sun warmed her; her designer sunglasses kept the brightness at bay. It was calming, the quiet of sailing, the creaking of the rigging and the flapping of cloth when Sean trimmed the sails were the only sounds to let her know she wasn't floating alone in the ocean.
She closed her eyes and lay back on the deck, the bright light a red glow beyond her eyelids, baking her already bronzed skin, filling her with a sense of silent comfort. This was better than a tanning bed any day. Here time was immaterial. The pressures of life, her demanding job, her cluttered apartment, the stress of her family and friends, all of it was in another world, left behind on the shore. Here on the open sea she was transported to a realm of peaceful solitude, and an aura of tranquility settled over her, relaxing her down to her bones as the warmth of sunlight saturated her skin.
The gentle motion of the boat through the waves lulled her into a dreamlike state, almost asleep, barely conscious of reality around her, soothing and serene. She wished Sean would furl the sails, let the boat drift or weigh anchor and come lay beside her, share the warmth and peace that enshrouded her. She lay like that for a long time, possibly hours, drifting into undisturbed sleep.
She woke to a cool breeze blowing over her bare skin, the tiny, powder blue bikini barely covering her, the coldness raising goose bumps over her body. She opened her eyes, and saw that the sky had darkened, black clouds heavy with rain roiled over the boat, the chill breeze had picked up, but no rain had yet fallen. She sat up, craning her neck to see what Sean was doing. The sails were furled, but couldn't see him anywhere on deck. She noticed the waves growing beyond the stern, rising in great swells, increasing the rocking motion of the boat, as lightning flashed on the horizon like distant fireworks.
Ariana liked storms. She loved watching them out the window from the safety of her apartment, rain tapping out a beat on the glass, thunder rattling the panes within their wooden frame. Sometimes she went out into the rain, felt it spatter on her upturned face, soaking through her clothes, delighting in the childlike freedom that overtook her, sending her back to the innocence of her youth. But here, on the open sea, she was in unfamiliar territory. Trepidation spread through her like the chill wind blowing across her exposed skin. She felt a sudden need to get below deck, to hide from the imminent onslaught of the storm.
The wind picked up, whipping her dark hair about her head, strands stinging her eyes as they blew across her face. A few fat rain drops plopped on the deck, splattering on the hardwood as the waves crashed into the side of the boat, misting Arianas' body with their spray. The water was still warm as it coated her, and she could smell the salt tang in the air, stronger now that the water was upon her than it had been during the calm sailing before she awoke. She had to get below deck. She stood awkwardly, the boat rolling beneath her and, gripping the railing to keep her balance and turned on her heel, bare skin squeaking against the wet timber.
As she spun, her eyes fell on Sean, directly behind her. His bare chest was the first thing she saw, blocking her way to the dry safety of the cabin. He balanced himself with one hand in the rigging, a length of rope in his other hand. The wind ruffled his short hair and his tossed his black swim trunks around his legs; his dark eyes squinted against the spray. He looked like a man on a mission, a man possessed with a singular purpose. Ariana hesitated, half standing, one hand on the railing, the wind tugging at her hair, the rain picking up as it spattered in large drops onto her, onto Sean, on the deck.
She was momentarily frightened, the expression on his face indiscernible, but then he touched her, one callused hand bracing her upper arm, and she calmed. The rope he held was rough against her skin, and he moved closer to her rather than helping her towards the cabin as she expected.
"Relax," he said, and the tension released itself from her arms and legs, her muscles loosened, the tightness within her easing.
Sean guided her gently back onto the deck until she was lying almost prone in the very end of the bow, a railing at either side. He loomed over her, uncoiling the rope with single-mindedness. Her heart raced. She couldn't figure out what he was doing, why he wasn't getting her to shelter below deck, why he was taking her hand, gently but firmly guiding it up over her head and... oh! Her heart skipped a beat as he lashed her hand tightly to the railing. The rope was itchy on her skin, snug as it held her firmly in place, her pulse quickening as realization dawned on her. He lashed her other hand as well, the knots strong and restraining. She was tethered securely into the bow of the ship, the weight of his lower body pressing down on her legs as he checked the knots.
