Now there's a lovely sweet young thing," said the bartender, staring at Maeve.
"I couldn't agree more," said Pitt.
Then she was walking with the Van Fleets to a table, where they all sat down and ordered from a waiter. Maeve was no sooner settled in her chair when men, both young and old enough to be her grandfather, came up and asked her to dance. She politely turned down every request. He was amused to see that no appeals moved her. They quickly gave up and moved on, feeling boyishly rejected. The Van Fleets excused themselves to dance while they waited for the first course. Maeve sat alone.
"She's choosy, that one," observed the bartender.
"Time to send in the first team," Pitt said as he set his empty glass on the bar.
He walked directly across the dance floor through the swaying couples without stepping left or right. A portly man Pitt recognized as a senator from the state of Nevada brushed against him. The senator started to say something, but Pitt gave him a withering stare that cut him off.
Maeve was people watching out of sheer boredom when she became vaguely aware of a man striding purposefully in her direction. At first she paid him little notice, thinking he was only another stranger who wanted to dance with her. In another time, another place, she might have been flattered by the attention, but her mind was twenty thousand kilometers away. Only when the intruder approached her table, placed his hands on the blue tablecloth and leaned toward her did she recognize him. Maeve's face lit with inexpressible joy.
"Oh, Dirk, I thought I'd never see you again," she gasped breathlessly.
"I came to beg your forgiveness for not saying goodbye when A1 and I abruptly left the Ice Hunter."
She was both surprised and pleased at his behavior. She thought he held no affection for her. Now it was written in his eyes. "You couldn't have known how much I needed you," she said, her voice barely audible above the music.
He came around the table and sat beside her. "I know now," he said solemnly.
Her face turned to avoid his gaze. "You could not begin to understand the scrape I'm in."
Pitt took Maeve's hand in his. It was the first time he had deliberately touched her. "I had a nice little chat with Boudicca," he said with a slight sardonic grin. "She told me everything."
Her poise and grace seemed to crumble. "You? Boudicca? How is that possible?"
He stood and gently pulled her from her chair. "Why don't we dance, and I'll tell you all about it later."
As if by magic, here he was, holding her tightly, pressing her close as she responded and burrowed into his body. He closed his eyes momentarily as he inhaled the aroma of her perfume. The scent of his masculine aftershave, no cologne for Pitt, spread through her like ripples on a mountain lake. They danced cheek to cheek as the orchestra played Henry Mancini's "Moon River."
Maeve softly began singing the words. "Moon River, wider than a mile. I'm crossing you in style someday." Suddenly, she stiffened and pushed him back slightly. "You know about my sons?"
"What are their names?"
"Sean and Michael."
"Your father is holding Sean and Michael hostage on Gladiator Island so he can extort from you information on any breakthroughs by NUMA on the slaughter at sea."
Maeve stared up at him in confusion, but before she could ask any further questions, he pulled her close again. After a few moments he could feel her body sag as she began to cry softly. "I feel so ashamed. I don't know where to turn."
"Think only of the moment," he said tenderly. "The rest will work itself out."
Her relief and pleasure at being with him pushed aside her immediate problems, and she began murmuring the lyrics of "Moon River" again. "We're after the same rainbow's end, waitin' round the bend, my huckleberry friend, Moon River and me." The music faded and came to an end. She leaned back against his arm, which was around her waist, and smiled through the tears. "That's you."
He gave her a sideways look. "Who?"
"My huckleberry friend, Dirk Pitt. You're the perfect incarnation of Huckleberry Finn, always rafting down the river in search of something, you don't know what, around the next bend."
"I guess you could say that old Huck and I have a few things in common."
They kept moving around the dance floor, still holding each other as the band took a break and the other couples drifted back to their tables. Neither was the least bit self-conscious at the amused stares.
Maeve started to say, "I want to get out of here," but her mind lost control of her tongue and it came out,
"I want you."
As soon as she spoke the words a wave of embarrassment swept over her. Blood flushed her neck and face, darkening the healthy tan of her complexion. What must the poor man think of me? she wondered, mortified.