Bare In Bermuda (34 page)

“Hola?” he mumbled then listened. “In fact, I am very hung-over.” He laughed. “I dread getting the bar bill from last night.” He paused and listened for a moment, then groaned and laughed. “I knew it would be bad, so I'm not so surprised.” He paused again to listen. “No, absolutely not. It's my contribution. I insist.” Again, he listened. “She's awake. Just a moment.”

Henna came awake and realized that whoever was on the other end had been calling for her and got Eduardo. Any hope of keeping her private life private had been thrown out the window.

“Mel,” Eduardo said, handing her the phone.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

Her father chuckled into the phone.

“Just stop,” she grumbled.

Her father laughed louder.

“Daddy!” she snipped.

“Gotcha!” her father laughed.

“Daddy, I am going to hang up on you,” she growled.

“Sorry, Peaches,” her father said. “Are you two meeting us for breakfast before we leave for the airport?”

She turned her mouth away from the phone. “Do you want to have breakfast with my parents?”

“Do you want to?” Eduardo cuddled her like a doll.

“Actually, I would,” she said. “I'm not sure when I'm going to see them again.”

“Okay,” he said, letting her go and rolling out of bed.

“When do we meet you?” she asked her father.

“Half-hour on the terrace,” Mel said before hanging up. The shower turned on as Henna rolled out of bed to her feet. She stretched her aching muscles, trying to wake up.

“Shower,” she said, walking into the bathroom. Steam poured out of the shower misting the room. A very good sign. She slid behind Eduardo who stood under the waterfall coming from the ceiling. Her arms wrapped around him and her head rested against her back.

“Are you cross with me for answering the phone?”

“No,” she said. “My father already figured it out.”

“I know,” he said. “We had a conversation before we went golfing.”

“You had a conversation with my father?”

“I have had many conversations with your father,” he said. “But that one was about you. Man to man.”

“Not sure how I feel about that,” she said. “What did you say in the man to man chat with my dad?”

“I told him that I was growing very fond of his daughter and that my intentions were honorable.”

She laughed a little. “How very you. What did my dad say?”

“That he has a gun and a shovel, and he will find me if I hurt you.”

She laughed. “How very Daddy.”

“He's a little scary, your father, but I understand. I have a daughter. Perhaps I’m a little scary, too. We understand each other.”

“You know, a week ago, a man doing that would have annoyed me beyond reason.”

“And now?”

“You have changed me,” she said. “I like that you're a man. It makes me feel like a woman. I realize now that I've never given myself permission to be feminine. Life is unpredictable, and I can't control everything. And although I'm not ready to totally give up on being a skeptic, I'm willing to concede there might be something to destiny.”

“You are a beautiful woman,” he said. “Never forget that.”

****

Breakfast with her parents and Aunt Midge on the terrace was the least stressful meal she'd had with them in years. Her mother didn't ask her when she was going to find a man and get married. Her aunt didn't offer to set her up. Her father discussed narcotics trafficking with Eduardo. As the time for her family’s departure approached, she followed them inside the hotel to say her final goodbyes.

When they walked into the lobby, Fatima stood at the checkout with her mound of luggage, looking like a volcano ready to explode. As soon as Fatima's gaze landed on Eduardo, an explosion of Spanish came careening across the open space.

“That is one pissed off woman.” Her father chuckled. “Watch your back, Peaches, and don't forget to carry your pepper spray.”

“I really need to learn Spanish,” she mumbled to her family as Eduardo attempted to sooth the screaming woman.

“Honey, you don't need to know Spanish to know she ain't happy,” Aunt Midge chortled as they stepped onto the elevator.

Henna watched Eduardo get a smack across the face as the elevator door closed and winced for him.

“Add to that she's been replaced by someone ten years younger than her.” Her mother chuckled. “I suspect Eduardo is not going to be in a good mood when he's done dealing with her.”

Henna walked with her parents to their room and said her goodbyes before heading to her room where she waited for Eduardo. After ten minutes, the cerulean blue swimming pool beckoned. She'd done her duty, and it was time for her to enjoy her first vacation in years. She slid into a new bikini, grateful for every minute she'd suffered in Pilates. She piled her hair on her head, slid into her sandals, wrapped a pareo around her body, and put her sunglasses on. As she stood scratching out a note for Eduardo, the door opened and he entered.

“You look unhappy,” she said, dropping her pen on the unfinished note.

“I am angry.” He threw his sunglasses on the desk.

She turned to him and ran her hands from his shoulders to his elbows then up to his face. He gazed at her with his chocolate-brown eyes, and her pussy flooded with wetness. His physical presence and his rough touch ignited a fire in her. An unquenchable lust ran through her body, burning her clit like an ember.

She was as hot and as ready to go as she'd been when she'd first met Eduardo, the handsome stranger at the bar in the Miami Airport. Once again, she marveled at how powerful and masculine he was. He had an ability to immobilize her with a look as surely as if he had her bound in chains.

With one hand holding her waist and the other holding her hair tight, he pressed his mouth to hers and took her breath away with a kiss. Her hands threaded behind his neck, and she pulled his mouth to hers. Eduardo's hands released her hair and wrist and grabbed her ass roughly, yanking her to him. He lifted her wrapping her legs around his hips and carried her to the bed. He dropped her on the cool linen and watched as Eduardo shook himself out of his clothing. She quickly wiggled out of her bikini.

His hand pumped his already stiff cock as he looked at her. “Roll over, on your knees.”

Henna rolled over and arched her back, biting her lip in anticipation. Eduardo entered her in one quick plunge, filling her to the core. He pumped in and out in a frenzy of hard thrusts as he held her hips. When his hand came down hard on her backside, she yelped from the combination of pleasure and pain.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes,” she cried.

His hand came down again on her rounded bottom, making her scream with delight.

Eduardo groaned deeply as he pulsated inside her.

With a spent sigh, he pulled out of her with a pop. “That was what I needed.” He lay on the bed next to her. “Fatima angers me.”

“Do not talk about other women after making love to me,” she snapped with her newfound passion. The old Henna would have gritted her teeth and kept her peace. The new Henna wouldn't have it. The new Henna threw blenders.

“I'm sorry,” he said, pulling her to him. “You are the only woman I think of. I breathe you, I feel you, I live for you.”

“That's better,” she said, smiling. Eduardo's over-the-top pronouncements at first had embarrassed her, then they'd amused her, and at last they delighted her. Being told the universe revolved around her was an addictive sort of thing. A girl could easily get used to being put on a pedestal.

“You are going to the swimming pool.”

“I am going to the swimming pool,” she said, mocking his accent a little.

“You think you're funny?” He smiled as he fiddled with one of her curls.

“I am funny. I'm also done with my sister's wedding, and I'm going to enjoy my vacation. Give up your room and move in with me.” She rose from the bed, and her gaze ran over his beautiful naked body as she pulled on her discarded bikini.

“I will do this,” he said, grinning. “Go to the pool. I need to make some calls and change rooms. I will meet you down there.”

Henna shouldered her bag and put her sunglasses on. At the pool, she found two lounge chairs in a prime location near an umbrella and moved them to suit her need for partial shade. Her body stretched almost involuntarily as she forced the last bits of accumulated stress and tension from her core. For the first time in a long time, she did nothing but lay on the lounge, absorbing the sun.

“Henna?”

She opened her eyes and looked up at Gloria. “What do you want?”

“Can I join you?”

“There are plenty of chairs on the other side of the pool.”

Gloria sat on the chaise next to her. “Henna, I have offended you. For that, I am truly sorry. I thought about what you said yesterday, and you are right. My apology was insincere. I wanted to make you uncomfortable when I found out about you and my father. I wanted to make you squirm and to know that I was the boss of my family.”

“I'm listening,” she said.

“I wanted you to think that if you wanted to be with my father, that could only happen with my approval. Eden worked very hard to get me to like her. I figured you would do the same.”

“You understand how childish and stupid that is?” she asked. “Eduardo and I are adults. We don't need your permission to have a relationship. It's not like you are a small child, and I need to get you to like me.”

“I understand this now.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm not sure what is going to happen with Eduardo, but I'm sure we can work out a system in which I don't have to be around when you want to visit with your father. I know you're leaving tomorrow. If you want to have dinner with him alone this evening, be my guest. I'll stay out of your way as long as you stay out of mine.”

“I can explain about Fatima,” Gloria said. “And I can swear it will never happen again.”

“All right,” she said. “I'm listening.”

“Fatima is an insufferable bitch. She was my mother's best friend.
Best friend
.” Her features went hard repeats. “My mother isn't even gone a year and Fatima is going after my father. Bitch. I'd rather my father was alone than be with her. I hate her. You, I don't really like you, but at least I respect you. You stand up for yourself. That's something.”

“Thank you.”

“So Fatima. That bitch. My grandmother hates Fatima as much as I do. But not because of her disrespect of my mother's memory. She hates Fatima because of Don Juan Esperanza.”

Henna saw two paths open before her. Down one was the story of Fatima and Don Juan Esperanza. Down the other, was her book and a quiet hour. It was possible Gloria could be likable. They'd reached an understanding. Their relationship found a solid surface from which a new start could be launched.

“Who is Don Juan Esperanza?” she asked, making her choice.

“Let me tell you about Don Juan Esperanza. He was my grandfather's best friend. His wife, my grandmother's cousin, Lily. Well. Everybody knew that Don Juan Esperanza was a dog.
A dog.
And Lily was a sweet flower. Just like her name.”

Henna sat back and listened to the story as old as time. The tale of a young, ambitious woman, a foolish old man trying to catch a final breath of his youth, and a delicate lady who was no match for the likes of a determined Fatima. When Gloria was done speaking, she knew more about a whole cast of individuals who sounded more like the characters out of a telenovela than real-life.

“And that is why my grandmother hates Fatima, the color purple, bananas, and Costa Ricans.”

“And goats,” Henna added.

“Yes,” Gloria said. “And goats.”

“Whatever happened to Lily?” Gloria's reaction to Fatima’s affair with Eduardo went too far, but Henna understood better. She might have been just as angry under similar circumstances.

“She lives on her parents’ plantation house about a half hour drive from here. One of the reasons we used to come here so often as children was to visit Aunt Lily. Because of Fatima, she couldn't come and see Romeo get married. She could have. I practically begged her to, but she refuses to be near that woman. Honestly, I can't blame her.”

Henna bought Gloria's temporary insanity defense. If her Aunt Midge had been kept away from a family function because of an obnoxious bitch, she'd be just as furious. “Fatima really shouldn't have come here.”

“No. Fatima should not have come here. She may be Romeo's godmother, but Lily is my grandmother's cousin, and she is also like a grandmother to us. And we are like her grandchildren. She never had children of her own. She has us. She had more of a right to see Romeo get married than Fatima. Now you understand why I am so angry?” Gloria looked at her, a hopeful smile on her face.

“Yes,” she said. “I would be furious.”

“I'm not crazy. I'm not unbalanced or a lunatic. I don't have any problem with you and my father together. You seem very sensible. Eden told me you agree with me about this wedding. They're crazy. Both of them. Who gets married after knowing someone for three months?”

“I know.” she laughed.

“I tell you now, if my brother tells me it's destiny one more time, I'll kick him in the balls.”

“I'm so glad you said that.”

“Hector and I have been together forever. We never talk about marriage. Why? I get why people get married, I'm just not sure it's for me.” Gloria raised a hand and waved. “My father.”

Henna looked across the pool. Eduardo in shorts with a towel around his neck approached them. Under one arm was a roll of newspapers. In his hand was his phone.

“What have you two been doing?” he asked, standing over them.

Henna smiled. “I just heard all about Fatima and Don Juan Esperanza.” She'd tease him about his appalling taste in women, herself and Pilar excluded, at some other moment.

Eduardo mumbled in Spanish for a moment before switching to English. “If I never have to hear about Don Juan Esperanza again, it will be too soon.” He looked at Gloria. “Fatima is gone. Go find your grandparents and let them know.”

Gloria snorted. “Is she really gone, or is she going to pop out of a closet at some point? She's like a bad cough. Once you think it's disappeared, you start hacking up phlegm again.”