Three Rivers (11 page)

The moment that Isabel said it she knew that it was a mistake. His expression changed from one of warmth to a cold look, and an air of reserve was immediately apparent. He was obviously interested in her and they both knew it. She could only hope that he would understand that it was her own insecurity that had taken over. She made up her mind to still her fear and take anything that came along for what it was and live it. She could only hope that she had not spoiled something for them.

“Alexis.”

“Yes?”

Isabel turned and, tucking one leg underneath her, faced him. “Alexis, that was a foolish thing for me to say. What I wanted to say is, you are a lovely surprise, and I am happy to be here with you, but I did not know how to say it. I think I was trying to say thank you.”

The iciness went out of his face. He brushed aside a long heavy lock of her hair, and took her face in both his hands, lightly kissing her on the mouth.

Breathless, Isabel sank back in the seat and faced forward. Alexis was holding her hand. They were each looking out of opposite car windows, watching the traffic begin to pile up as they came closer to the center of Cairo.

“Isabel.”

“Yes, Alexis?” she replied softly.

“Remember, I have been trying to find you for six months. I have thought about you for six months. I have held you in those thoughts for a very long time. I have never let you go since I met you. You must not be frightened. It is sudden for you, but for me it is not sudden, only a reality.”

Smiling, he squeezed her hand as the Rolls was slowly swallowed up by the sounds, the sea of traffic, the sun of Cairo.

Alexis pointed out things while en route past the Semiramis Hotel and the Nile. The varied modes of transport were astonishing. Bicycles and motorcycles pulling makeshift wooden carts on rubber wheels; wooden carts pulled by worn-down, almost hairless, abused donkeys; Cadillacs with Chevrolet fenders; Minis; big old Buicks kept shiny; and sad old horses pulling flat carts loaded with scrap metal, piled so high as to look like moving pyramids of rubbish ready to topple at any time. There were elegant Mercedes and Rollses of all ages and sizes, and red Ferraris which could go no more than a foot a minute in the traffic jam while their constantly revved motors screamed to take off.

The tramcars and pedestrians mingled with the traffic brought on more to see and marvel at, and then came the vendors weaving through the traffic selling cold drinks, scarves, stockings, fruit, coffee, prophylactics, flowers, kebabs, feather dusters and falafels.

One of the vendors rapped repeatedly on Alexis’s window to offer white honeysuckle and jasmine blossoms, all strung together on a four-inch-wide bracelet. Another attacked the windscreen with a filthy cloth as the car inched along. The chauffeur screamed at the man to go away, but Alexis silenced the chauffeur and bought two of the bracelets for Isabel. He tied them both on the same wrist. She loved them and the mad traffic of the city.

They were through the center of Cairo now, and Alexis explained that he had several residences in Cairo, among them one of the finest old Arab houses, dating back to the early seventeenth century. Another was a lovely house built in the middle of an amazing love garden on an island in the Nile near old Cairo. There were several small but perfect early-eighteenth-century houses in the Muski area, on a small street about halfway between the mosques of Barkuk and al Hakim. They were all fine and open to the public when he was not in residence, except for the one on Sharia el Nil, which was his official residence. His home.

“Isabel, I want you to see them all. I want you to see everything you can while you are here. We will stay today and tonight in the house on Roda Island. Tomorrow we will stay at Sharia el Nil. They are only a half-hour apart from one another but are indeed worlds apart. You will see.”

Slowly they edged their way out of the traffic and away from the excitement of the people, the cars, the slender minarets and the stately architecture that vie with the modern buildings and wide avenues, the shady parks spotted along the Nile, with its feluccas slowly moving up and down, their sails billowing lazily in the hot wind. The city seemed as if thick honey had been poured over everything; everything slowed down by sweet, slow motion.

Isabel adored what she saw, and was more than a little captivated by Alexis. There was excitement, but a comfortable excitement. It was strange, but she almost felt as if she had been there before. It was as if she were returning home. She half expected to find her pets — Rita, Winston and Arthur — waiting for her at Alexis’s house.

The Rolls was driving through lush green trees and flowering bushes. They were on Roda Island. It was quiet, with just a few cars on the road, and there were
birds to be heard. The bright sun filtered through the trees and made patterns everywhere.

They made a turn and went through a pair of huge, magnificently ornate, cast-iron gates. There were guards on either side of the gates dressed in the same type of galabia and headdress as Gamal. They bowed very low as the car went through and was swallowed up by the loveliest, most exotic garden Isabel had ever seen. She turned around and looked out the back window and could see the guards closing the gates as the car went slowly up the winding drive to the house.

The house was actually a small palace. The driver opened the door to the car and bowed low as Isabel got out. Alexis was directly behind her. She turned away from the house and faced him.

“Alexis, I am overwhelmed.”

“No, no, not yet. Wait until you are inside; then you may be overwhelmed.” He smiled broadly.

Two servants opened the door as they mounted the steps. Alexis had her by the elbow and was leading her. The servants bowed very low in welcome.

The massive oak doors were framed in brass and inlaid in gold and silver. The palace was a mixture of Ottoman, Moorish, Persian and Arab styles. Everywhere one looked it was covered with mosaics, mushrabiya or some intricate work of art. Taken all together it was a
tour de force
of beauty. Alexis was right; Isabel was now completely overwhelmed.

“Come, I wish to show you the room I have chosen for you. I think you will be happy with it. Gamal will be your servant. Anything you want, merely ask him. Do you want to rest, or do you think you will wait for a siesta after lunch?”

“I will wait for the siesta.”

“Good girl.”

They approached a door and a servant who had been a few feet down the corridor stepped forward and opened it for them. They stepped inside the magnificent room, and there was Gamal with most of her cases unpacked. Even her makeup had been laid out on the dressing table. Alexis said a few words to Gamal and the servant disappeared. Alexis removed the alligator handbag from her shoulder, took both her hands and led her to the French doors, whose shutters had been closed. He opened them
and led her out onto the balcony, which overlooked a tropical garden with fountains and rare birds of all colors walking about; there were pools of lotus flowers and goldfish with great fantails; flowers and songbirds were everywhere.

Isabel gasped. “Alexis, I don’t think I can take any more.”

“Oh, that would be a pity because the best is yet to come. And I am sure you will be up to it. Isabel, come inside.”

He took her hand and she followed him dutifully. Once inside he unbuttoned the first four of the white jade buttons of her dress and slipped his hand inside, fondling her gently for a moment, then gliding his hand over her breasts to her neck. He bent and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. Isabel unconsciously opened her lips and he ran his tongue over the inside of them, kissed her on the lips and then the neck.

“Why not freshen up and come down to breakfast? The others are here and waiting for us at table. Don’t be too long.” He started for the door and halfway there, returned. “Isabel, I almost forgot. There is a package for you on the dressing table. Just a token. Something to please you, I hope, and to say welcome. Oh, and the other thing is that there is an open line for calls, if you want to make any. The telephone system is notoriously bad in Cairo and I have secured a line for us here at the house that will be good for the next hour. Just tell the operator the country and the number.”

He started out of the room again, but stopped after a few steps and returned to Isabel. He bent down and whispered in her ear, “You have lovely tits,” gave her a quick kiss on the mouth and a pat on the ass before she could say anything; then smiled and left the room.

Isabel stood in the center of this amazing room, with its antique Turkish paneling and decorated ceiling, overwhelmed, and not only by the decoration. Alexis Hyatt was gorgeous and obviously desired her.

What was so extraordinary was that Isabel did remember meeting Alexis Hyatt. It was a little over a year ago. She had been in Regine’s in Paris with a group of friends — smart, chic, French intellectual types. It had been an evening of excellent food, wine and conversation. They had all gone to Regine’s for a dance and a nightcap. But
once there something went very wrong. The party seemed to break up into a lot of superficial chatter and table-hopping. Isabel had suddenly felt quite out of it; she did not belong there at all, and wished more than anything that she were home in bed with a good book.

Out of sheer boredom she became interested in the table just next to theirs. A beautiful young girl, a true English beauty with her long, blonde hair and milk white skin, was with a man who was tall and slim with a great deal of thick, black, slightly wavy hair with silver gray in it. His skin was fair for an Arab gentleman, but clearly he was from the Middle East. His face was dominated by a pair of large, black, sultry eyes and a very sensuous mouth. He exuded a kind of smooth sexiness kept under control by good behavior, and there was something princely in his bearing. All these things put together made Isabel think.
There is a deliciously, slightly decadent man, one who is more than a little bit of a debaucher
.

Isabel was fascinated by him and the way he handled the young girl. When he laughed at her, he revealed a pair of deep dimples and a smile that would captivate any woman. The tiny little wrinkles at the corner of his eyes had a tinge of the wicked: a look that made him even more fascinating to Isabel.

The girl was obviously upset over something that amused him. Isabel could not help but listen to the conversation. The girl was attacking him, saying, “You are going to fuck her, aren’t you? Well, answer me.
Aren’t you?
Well, if not, then get rid of her. Are you going to fuck her or are you going to fuck me?”

“Why are you so upset, Anne? Calm yourself. I am going to fuck her and I am going to fuck you. You will fuck each other. We three are going to bed and we are all going to have one another. I will watch you while you both have each other, and then I am going to take you both in turn, any way and every way that pleases us. Now, why are you making such a fuss? It seemed to me that you were very happy this afternoon, when we were all in bed. You kept telling us how wonderful it was when she made love to you. Why are you so upset now? If you are unhappy and do not want us, I will take you home right now. There is no problem.”

“I want you to myself.”

“No, I do not think that is true. I think what you want is to have Yasmine all to yourself and you are jealous because she is making up to that beautiful young man she is dancing with. You are besotted with that woman and too jealous, my dear.”

With that the young beauty became very pink in the face and pounded her fist on the table.

“Now, now, no scenes, not at my table, little Anne. If you want her, you must go and take her away from the boy, or wait for her to come back to the table. You wanted to come to this place. You know I do not care for this kind of night life, but I am here. You should have prepared for this sort of thing with Yasmine. I suggest you find the ladies’ room and calm yourself, or have another glass of champagne. When she comes back, we will all three go home.”

The young girl, enraged, jumped up from the table, went to the dance floor, cut in on the young gigolo and started to gyrate with a lady who must have been six feet four inches tall. She was as slim as a boy and coal black; the chignon of black hair at the nape of her neck only accentuated the animal beauty of her face and body. She looked and moved like a panther dressed in Yves St. Laurent from head to toe, a magnificent animal. The two women danced and one could see the blonde girl grow more calm. The man watched them, never taking his eyes off the scene.

They returned to the table, the young girl quite happy now. The magnificent Negress sat between the man and the blonde girl. They were quite jolly, and Isabel saw the Negress fondle the man under the table. He removed her hand and said “No.”

“But Anne would not mind, would you, Anne?” the Negress taunted. “You will not become jealous?”

“No.” The blonde girl pouted.

Then Yasmine turned to Anne and lifted her breast out of her dress and sucked on it for all to see. Anne became so turned on she kissed the black beauty full on the lips and begged to be taken home.

The man called for the bill and paid for it while the two women fondled one another. He spoke in Arabic to the black girl, who started for the cloakroom with Anne. As he was passing the table, he jolted Isabel’s chair. He
touched her shoulder and apologized in French. Their eyes met. He started to say something, but before he could get it out the black goddess pulled him away.

Isabel thought he was fabulously attractive. When their eyes met, she felt for a split-second that their two souls had become one. As he was dragged away from her, Isabel realized how much she wanted to be closer to this man.

That man was Alexis Hyatt.

Isabel stood for a long time in the center of the room just where Alexis had left her. She gave a deep sigh, a sigh of excitement that comes from joy. Moving very slowly to the dressing table she realized that she was attracted to Alexis in more than a carnal way. Not wanting to think about it, she immediately went about brushing her hair and repairing her face. While looking in the mirror she was aware of the fact that she looked different. Perhaps it was because of some kind of inner feeling of bliss.