“I’m game.”

“I know you’re game. That’s why I asked you along. Say.” Now he rolled the rest of his body on his side so he was facing her, up on one elbow, his wet head propped up on his hand, a yard of pale, moonlit sand between them. “That was some show last night. You were terrific.”

“At the dinner, you mean?”

“When you gave that speech. That was something else. I didn’t know you could put on a show like that.”

“Baloney. I couldn’t even hear my own words.”

“Honest Injun. You socked it to them. I’ll tell you, they loved your act a hell of a lot more than they loved my sorry efforts.”

Irene held up her hand. “Wait a second.”

“What’s that?”

She closed her eyes and fell back on the sand. “I can hear you!”

He laughed and rolled on his back again. “Same thing happened to me when I woke up. Realized I could hear the waves outside the window. Then I figured I might as well ride a few of them, since I wasn’t going back to sleep.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to bring any extra weight.”

“Nah, I borrowed the board from the bellhop. You want to take a turn?”

“I can’t. I’ve got my pajamas on under this thing.” She fingered the sash of her dressing gown.

“So what? I won’t look.”

“Sure you won’t.”

“Well, I might. But it’s only me, right? Your old pal Sam.”

To the left, an indigo light had begun to outline the shape of Diamond Head. The waves thundered quietly toward Irene’s feet. The stars, which had spilled across the black sky so generously a moment ago, were dying off. Irene untied the belt of her dressing gown and sat up.

“All right,” she said.

She’d lied about the pajamas. Pajamas were so much unnecessary weight! Under the robe, which had been provided by the hotel itself, she wore only her drawers and her camisole. She didn’t look back to see if Sam was watching, not because she didn’t want to know but because she didn’t want to care. The surfboard stood at his feet, stuck in the sand. She lifted it with some effort.

“Watch for the sharks,” Sam called out behind her.