A Palm Beach Love Story

It had been a whirlwind love. Robert discovered Leslie Devereaux working at an Qinvestment firm as an executive assistant in Boca Raton. He sent Leslie flowers every day. He wrote Leslie passionate letters. He took her to the best restaurants in Palm Beach. At first she found him handsome and attractive, then entertaining and interesting. At thirty-eight he still had an athlete's physique. His six foot, two-inch frame hung on powerful broad shoulders with the chiseled facial features of a warrior.

Within two months Leslie accepted Robert's offer as a private assistant in his firm. He was charming, gentle, and masculine. She found herself yearning to be with him and no one else. They fell completely in love. There were weekends with intimate friends, private cruises, and candlelit dinners.

One evening, he spoke of marriage on a friend's yacht. It began with an intimate catered dinner for two. A string quartet serenaded for the evening. After dinner, they were completely alone on the boat, anchored in the middle of the lagoon.
The lights of the city in the distance filtered through the silk curtains. Gentle slapping of waves on the hull and the soft rocking side to side had created a fairy-tale glow. He took her, firmly, insistently. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers, his hips to hers, his heart to hers.

"Do you feel the soft slapping of the waves?" Robert asked softly, looking into her hazel green eyes. "They're for you." Together they drew into each other with the rhythm of each gentle wave. He lifted her petite, 30 something form up, released her long blonde hair to fall in surrender around her ample breasts, and pressed her to him until she felt locked into his being. Then, with the softness of a cloud, she lay under him. "Oh, that this night could last forever," Robert whispered.

Leslie searched his deep brown eyes, looking for a sign, a hint of falsehood, or any sign of simple lust. But she only found a hope, a fulfillment bigger than any others, begging to be answered in her. He was in need, and so was she.

He gently kissed her lips, neck, and shoulders. "Your perfume," he whispered, as he kissed her breast, "intoxicating." He followed her tensing body down her quivering hips. Starlight glowed on her curves. He paused, lowered his head to her smooth abdomen and for a moment seemed as a child to her. Leslie cuddled his head in her arms. She felt him sigh. He continued kissing down her body. "I want you, I need you, I must have you," he whispered, as if afraid others would hear as he made his insistence clear. Each wanting, each receiving, together they tumbled into love. He offered her his true emotion which she willingly accepted, hoping the moment would never end.

Afterwards, Leslie found some cheddar cheese and a bottle of red wine. Added water crackers made a feast at two in the morning.

"Would you ever marry, Leslie?"
"Would you?"
His face became darkened at the question. He said, "It can be good for the right people.

Do you think I am the right people?"
Then, holding a comb across her upper lip to imitate his mustache, she teased: "I'll let

you know after I analyze it, Robert. You know how important an analyses is to the business of decision making, don't you?"

He laughed and replied, "Please inform me as to your outlook to the possibilities at your earliest convenience," keeping the silly moment.

Now, she wondered if it all was a game, just a fling for him, only entertainment.

But it was more than that, Leslie was sure of it. "So what happened?" she whispered to herself. "Was it something I said or did? Or some secret in the past?"

After the evening on the yacht he was called away for two days and when he returned he presented her with a diamond bracelet set in platinum from Sharie's in Palm Beach and an apology. "Forgive me." He said. "My feelings are genuine, my love is true.