Mexican Nights (17 page)

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Authors: Jeanne Stephens

BOOK: Mexican Nights
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It had grown dark and Terri could no longer make out Derek's features, but his tone was soft, almost soothing. "I suppose," she ventured, "when there are people around who love and care for you, material things don't seem so important."

In reply Derek surprised her by taking her hand. After a moment, he said, "There's that—and also the fact that people don't miss what they have never had or expect to have."

Terri's hand stayed in his as they approached the plaza—small and warm and feeling so at home there. Outwardly, she took no notice of the clasped hands swinging between them, fearing that to say anything about this surprising intimacy or draw attention to it in any way would break the spell of closeness that she could feel all around them.

"Did you ever have a desire to live like these people?" Terri asked suddenly. "To live simply, I mean—with as few 'things' as possible?"

They had reached the plaza and the few dim lights from the surrounding shops and the church showed her Derek's slight smile. "Like Thoreau? Oh, I suspect every man has had at least a momentary impulse to become that kind of hermit for a time—to see if he can live off the land, get in touch with himself—all those modern catchphrases everybody uses but few really try."

Terri laughed softly. "Somehow it wouldn't be the same, would it? Knowing you could go back to automobiles and electric lights and water from the faucet anytime."

"No," he agreed, "it wouldn't." They stood now in front of the old church and Derek looked down at her. "Want to go in?"

"Yes," she said immediately. "I want to see everything." But as they started up the steep steps he dropped her hand, and she felt a sharp pang of disappointment.

Inside, the dimly lighted sanctuary was deserted. In spite of its size, it was quite plain. There were none of the gold gilding or icons decorated with gems that Terri had seen in Mexico City churches. There was an altar flanked by two small statues of saints on which the paint was chipped and peeling and, above the altar, a painting of Christ as the Good Shepherd. And there were the familiar candles, some still burning, which had been offered by the faithful.

As they walked toward the altar, Terri noticed that the wooden pews were old and well worn—nor was there carpeting even on the narrow aisles. They stood, side by side, looking up at the gentle face of Christ.

"There's such a feeling of peace here," Terri whispered, and even the soft words seemed to echo loudly in the dim sanctuary.

His arm moved and she felt its warm strength as it came to rest on her shoulders. "Do you feel that, too? I was wondering if you would. I always come into the church when I'm in the village because I like the atmosphere that I sense here. It's as if the worshipers who come to this church have found a deep contentment and they leave a little of it behind when they go."

"Maybe," said Terri slowly, "even a couple of success-oriented Americans can take a little of it away with them."

He was looking down at her; she could feel the probing of his dark eyes on her face. "Maybe we can," he murmured. His strong hand was gripping her shoulder with a sudden contraction of the fingers. She turned her head so that she could meet his gaze. His hand moved to slide around the back of her neck, under the heavy weight of her hair.

In that brief moment, something passed between them. Terri could feel it like a jolt of lightning, although she could not explain it or understand it. The face looking down at her was partly in shadow, the pale light glancing off the forehead and straight nose and high cheekbones, while the eyes and mouth were softened, partly obscured.

"Terri…" The way he said her name turned her bones to water—so softly that she wondered if she had not imagined it, willed it. The quiet in the church, Derek's fingers moving gently on her neck, the intensity of his gaze, the caressing sound of the voice that had said her name—it all had a seducing quality about it.

Into her mind flashed the memory of going into Derek's bedroom and waking him, knowing suddenly that he was naked beneath the sheet. She wondered how he looked beneath that sheet, lean and masculine, and she could so easily imagine how it might have been had she accepted his invitation to join him, as he made lazy, passionate love to her.

But then she remembered his contempt and mockery, the cruel things he had said to her, the shallowness of what he was offering her. She shook her head helplessly, shaking off the spell of that place and Derek's closeness, until fear broke through everything else and she felt a stinging warmth in her eyes, which she blinked away.

"I think we should go," she said, averting her glance.

His hand dropped away and he said expressionlessly, "You're right. It's getting late." She followed him from the church, down the steps, and across the plaza to the car. Derek was remotely silent on the drive back to the plantation—as if he had gone away from her to a secret place inside himself. As for Terri, her weary misery had returned. She closed her eyes and let her head rest against the back of the seat. Everything that had happened during the last few days seemed suddenly unreal—the vast plantation, the guest house, the blazing sun by day, the heavy, silent Yucatán nights. These few days were all a dream. Some parts of the dream had been pleasant—even wonderful—but one could not take that too seriously, for the trouble with dreams was that they could never last.

When they reached the guest house, Terri went immediately into her bedroom, after murmuring a good night. Derek did not even reply, but merely stood, leaning with his back against the closed entrance door, and watched her go.

Terri made quick work of teeth-brushing and face-washing, got into her nightgown, and crawled between the sheets. But she could not sleep, and it wasn't long before hot, bitter tears were trickling down her face. She had never imagined that love could be so painful. So many of the frivolous novels she had read and movies she had seen made love seem like a fairy tale in which two people brought each other the joy and happiness for which both had been searching all their lives. They, of course, lived happily ever after.

But those fictional situations were always ones in which both parties loved and there was commitment on both sides. In return for her love, Derek was offering her a few days and nights of fun and sex—physically delightful, yes, but still a very poor exchange. In a few days they would go back to Mexico City—Derek would return to Margarite Lopez and, as soon as this assignment ended, would never give Terri another thought.

It was too much to know, too painful, and Terri's slender body shook with silent sobs of frustration and deep unhappiness. Finally, the tears stopped and she felt drained, empty. Yet still she could not sleep. She turned and fidgeted on the bed until the sheets became entangled with her legs. She sat up, extricating herself, and tossed the covering sheet back. The bedroom felt stuffy, all at once, and she didn't want anything touching her. Had the air conditioning gone off?

She reached for her wristwatch, which lay on the bedside table, and squinted at it. Good heavens, it was almost midnight; she'd been tossing about on the bed for more than two hours. The light from the full moon was so bright that she'd been fooled into thinking it was earlier.

Sighing, she wandered into the sitting room and peered out the front windows. Maybe a walk would do the trick. It was a beautiful, clear night. Then she remembered the courtyard. What better place for a midnight stroll?

Returning to her bedroom, she picked up her sandals and went to the front door before slipping them on. Her short cotton knit nighty would be enough clothing, and since it was midnight she didn't have to worry about being seen.

She avoided the graveled drive and walked on the grass to the gate in the wrought-iron fence, opening it carefully for fear it would squeak and wake somebody. There was no sound, however; evidently the Divilas' servants kept it well oiled. She closed it behind her and moved through a clump of palm trees to a paved walkway that wound in and out of the shrubbery and trees surrounding the pool. How lovely the courtyard was in the moonlight! The shadows of the branches and leaves overhead dappled the walkway with haphazard, hazily outlined patterns. Already feeling her tense muscles beginning to relax, Terri breathed deeply, smelling the sweet odor of the bright-colored flowers that were planted in beds scattered about the courtyard.

The walkway eventually led to the patio at one end of the swimming pool, where outdoor furniture was arranged in casual groupings around small wrought-iron tables. Terri stood at the edge of the pool, thinking that the still surface looked like a sheet of silver in the moonlight. She slipped off her sandals and sat down on the edge, letting her feet dangle in the water, which felt pleasantly cool and soothing. How she would love to go in.

Well, why couldn't she? No one would ever know. Could she risk going back to the guest house for her swimsuit and perhaps waking Derek? She glanced about at the trees on all sides of the courtyard; they provided a natural screen about the pool. Of course, she knew that portions of the pool could be seen from the guest house, for she had admired it several times. It might even be possible to see some of the pool from the main house, where the Mexican couple were staying. But everyone was asleep, had probably been asleep for hours. She needn't risk going back for her suit. Hadn't she always had a secret desire to go skinny-dipping?

Before she could change her mind, she pulled her nightgown over her head and folded it neatly beside her sandals. Then she slipped over the side of the pool, her body making a soft plop as it entered the water. She was on the deep end, and she pushed herself away from the edge, stroking in long, easy movements the length of the pool. The cool water sliding along her naked body as she moved through it felt like a million caressing fingers massaging her taut muscles, relaxing her. Oh, it felt wonderful!

She caught hold of the overhang at the shallow end of the pool and pushed off again, floating on her back, just moving her legs enough to keep afloat. She let her mind drift like her body, enjoying the sensuous feel of the water against her skin and the mindless sort of reverie that slowly invaded her brain.

She swam the length of the pool several times, thinking that this was the best idea she'd ever had. She knew that when she returned to her bed she would be able to sleep. Yet she was reluctant to leave the calming water. She had stopped to get her breath at the shallow end when she thought she heard something—a soft plop, as if something had dropped into the pool at the other end. But what could have fallen in? She was sure she'd left her gown and sandals well back from the edge.

She narrowed her eyes, peering toward the deep end of the pool, and realized that the moonlight was not as illuminating as she had thought. Everything was shadowy down there. She shook her head. She was being fanciful. Nothing could have dropped into the pool. She placed her feet against the side and gave herself a determined shove. She swam on her stomach, stroking slowly, and as she approached the deep end she thought she saw something in the water—a dark bulk above the surface.

She had almost reached the end before she realized it was a person. Oh, heaven, she'd been caught—by one of the servants or—No, it couldn't be!

But it was. "Hello, Terri." Derek's voice was low with an unmistakable edge of challenge. "You seemed to be having so much fun, I thought I'd join you."

She caught hold of the edge of the pool as far away from him as she could get. "Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you were asleep!"

"I was restless. I heard you leave the house and followed you. Evidently we were both restless. A strange coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

She peered at him, seeing his bare shoulders and arms clearly above the water. She couldn't get out or he'd see that she was naked! Her mind tumbled with several plans that were no sooner grasped than rejected. "I'm about ready to go back to the house," she said, hoping that she sounded calm and assured. As she spoke, she moved her hand slowly across the pool apron, searching for her clothes, which should be there somewhere. If she could get them and make her way along the side of the pool to the other end, she could get out of the water and into her gown without Derek's being able to see her clearly—
if
he would stay on this end of the pool.

He was moving toward her now, and she felt frantically for her clothes. "Derek," she said warningly, "you stay over there until I find—"

She risked looking away from him long enough to glance at where her arm was still making its searching sweep of the pool apron, and her heart jumped into her mouth. She couldn't see anything—her clothes were gone!

She turned back to face Derek, who was slowly approaching through the water. "Did you—yes, of course you did! You moved my clothes. I want my clothes, Derek! Where did you put them?"

"Shh," he whispered only a few feet away now. "You'll wake the servants and it might be rather difficult to explain what we're doing here at this time of night. They'd probably turn on the floodlights, too."

His hand slid through the water in an effort to capture her, but she slid away, moving to the other side of the diving board. "I want my clothes, Derek!" she hissed between her teeth.

He chuckled. "Calm down, Terri. I put them in a safe place."

"You hid my clothes!" She forgot to keep her voice down and the words seemed to echo all around them. She imagined the Divilas' servants getting up, hearing the commotion in the pool, and flooding the area with bright light. The thought was too horrible to contemplate. More quietly, she said, "Damn you, Derek Storm! You think this is some kind of joke, don't you?"

"Not at all," he replied with maddening calm. "This is much too serious to be a joke."

Suddenly, she realized that he was edging around the diving board. Feeling a surge of panic, she shoved away from him and stroked vigorously for the other end of the pool. It was too much to hope that he wouldn't follow her. When she reached the end of the pool and had caught hold of the apron to climb out, he was beside her, laughing and grabbing her ankle to pull her back into the water. When he surfaced, she splashed water in his face, hoping to keep him at a distance until she could make another break for it.

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