Reese thought that her life was exciting enough. Bilang photojournalist, sanay siyang makipaghabulan sa bala, humarap sa sumasabog na bulkan at makipaglaban sa bagyo bilang bahagi ng trabaho niya. Wala siyang panahon sa lalaki. Sagabal lang ang mga ito sa trabaho niya.
Until Marcoe Arezmendi invaded her ‘exciting’ life. This half-French wine tycoon gave her the new meaning of adrenaline rush. Everybody told her to stay away from this jet-setting playboy. He was dangerous with a capital D.
But she was used to danger. The more dangerous, the better. But how come this dangerous man was the only one who made her feel safe?
Reese impatiently kicked off her high-heeled sandals when she reached the deserted part of the yacht’s deck. Kanina pa masakit ang paa niya sa pagsusuot niyon. “I hate every minute of wearing that damn sandals. Hindi ko talaga ma-imagine kung bakit kailangan pang isuot iyan ng mga babae.”
She was aboard La Esmeralda, a 200-feet ocean-going yacht. The young Italian-Filipino businessman who owned it threw a party. But she didn’t come there to party. Una, wala siyang mahilig sa mga kasosyalan. Mas gusto pa niyang matulog sa condo niya kaysa makihalubilo sa iba. She came there to confirm the information that the alleged notorious drug cartel boss, Vicenzio Vicar, would set foot at the yacht to close a deal.
“Wala namang anino ang Vicenzio Vicar na iyon dito. Wala ngang nakasakay sa yate na ito na above forty years old.” Vicenzio Vicar was already fifty. Naipadyak niya ang paa. “Saka sino ba namang baliw ang magse-set ng deal dito?”
Most of the visitors were movers and shakers in the community. Young businessmen, their glamorous escorts from modeling and showbiz world and the press who were covering the event.
Yes, she was member of the press. Pero photojournalist siya para sa isang international news photo agency. Ginawan niya ng pabor ang Kuya Stephen niya na isang investigative reporter para sa diyaryo na pag-aari ng pamilya nila. May hiwalay na lead kasi itong iimbestigahan para sa report. Sa kanya lang ito may tiwala.
“Kanina pa ako nag-o-observe dito, wala namang kakaiba sa party. It is a clean party at mukhang walang nagda-drugs. Ni walang spiked punch. Of course, the wine is great.” She gulped the champagne and stared out at the dark sea. “Maybe I am at the wrong party. Sino ba ang informer ni Kuya Stephen? Pag-uumpugin ko silang dalawa. Palpak naman ang impormasyon nila. Pinasugod-sugod nila ako dito. Nilalamig na ako sa suot ko.” She was wearing a brown spaghetti strapped jumpsuit with overlay chiffon. And now she was chilling. She picked up her sandals. “Tapos halos mapilay pa ako sa sandals na ito. Itapon ko kaya ito sa dagat?”
Idinaan na lang niya ang inis sa pag-inom ng champagne habang pinakikinggan ang tugtog ng reggae band. Nai-imagine niyang nagsasayawan ang mga tao sa dance floor. Some were enjoying the wine, the music, politely nibbling hors d’oeuvre and had the pleasure of socializing with others. Siya lang naman yata ang bored na bored na sa party na iyon.
“Kung pwede ko lang languyin ang pampang at di na hintayin ang lantsa para makabalik ako sa marina.” Humikab siya. It was almost ten at night. “Sisingilin ko si Kuya dahil di ko napanood ang special documentary na matagal ko nang hinintay.” Ihinagis niya ang sandals niya. “Malas talaga!”
Humagis nang mas malayo ang isang sandals niya. Pupulutin sana niya iyon nang may maunang dumampot sa kanya. Napanganga siya nang ngumiti ito at tumingin sa direksiyon niya. “I believe this is yours.”
“Y-Yes,” aniya sa nanginginig na boses at tumango. Hindi niya alam kung para saan ang panginginig ng boses niya. Kung dahil sa hiya o dahil napagmasdan niyang mabuti ang itsura ng lalaki.
He was too tall with European features. He was at home with the blue gray suit he was wearing. His nose was perfect and the contours of his face were perfect. And she bet that many women would die just to spend a night with this man.
“Let me.” Umuklo ito sa harap niya at maingat na isinuot sa paa niya ang sandals niya. She felt electricity through her veins when he gently touched her foot. “Where is the rest of the pair?” tukoy nito sa kabiyak ng sandals.
Di niya magawang magsalita. Sa halip ay itinuro niya ang sandals na nakahimlay di kalayuan sa kinatatayuan niya. “Oh, there it is!” Pinulot nito ang sandals at isinuot ulit sa paa niya. “Are you okay?”
Natulala lang siya sa tanong nito. She was staring into a pool of unusual eyes. Dahil miniature lantern lang ang ilaw sa paligid, di niya mahulaan ang kulay ng mata nito. And it reminded her of his gentle hands.
She was used to violence. Nang mamatay ang mommy niya noong pitong taon siya, natuto na siyang maging independent. Di na niya kailangang humingi ng tulong sa iba. She was even insulted when men tried to offer help. But why did she allow this stranger with unusual eyes to help her out? And it was as menial as putting on a pair of sandals.
Inilapit nito ang mukha sa kanya at hinawakan siya sa magkabilang balikat. “Miss, I said are you okay?”