by L A Morgan
“What do you want?” Maria cried out as she clutched her purse tightly against her.
“Whatever you have to offer,” that menacing face replied.
All at once, she was seized from behind by a pair of strong arms that swiftly shifted her away from the threatening intruder. Maria gasped as she looked up to see what the new danger might be.
It was another man, costumed in a black mask and cloak. He held her shoulders firmly in his hands as he looked back at the horrible man who had been bothering her.
“This woman is mine,” he whispered in a quiet, yet penetrating voice.
The first intruder hastily melted back into the darkness. Maria felt herself growing faint. The hands that held her increased in strength, as they led her to a bench on the boardwalk.
“It’s all right,” he whispered in a soft, Cajun drawl against her ear. “You have nothin’ to fear from me . . . for now.”
He added that last word casually, almost as though it had no meaning. Maria felt too weak to resist him, but she dreaded whatever significance that final word might have implied.
Once she was seated, the stranger drew away his arms to sit closely beside her. His posture held no imminent threat as he looked out across the water, but Maria still felt the need to quiver uncontrollably. Under normal circumstances, she would not have been so shaken by this unpleasant incident, but the fear and excitement of the day had her emotions in turmoil.
Before she could think of a word to say, the man said, “It’s not safe to come up here on the levee after dark. There are those here,” and he paused before completing the sentence, “who are not kind.”
Maria, at this point, managed to gasp out, “Who are you?”
The man looked at her, but she could not see his expression behind the mask.
“I’m the man who’s saved you from an unsavory experience.”
“But who are you?”
In a low voice, he replied, “Someone who likes to save damsels in distress.”
Once again, he looked away. As Maria’s heart slowed down enough for her to breathe more regularly, she whispered, “Should I be afraid of you?”
“Perhaps, but not now,” the man gravely answered.
Maria could not decide how to interpret this cryptic response. She huddled into herself and her breathing quickened again. When the man did not move for some minutes, she began to relax a little. He was not posing any particular threat outside of his formidable presence, and he gave her no indication that he intended to hurt her.
Compared to the streets, it was very quiet here on the bank of the Mississippi. As Maria glanced to her side, she saw a couple of lovers on the bench beside her. They were rapt in their passion for each other. No one else had come up from the stairs during those past few minutes.
The man was close to her, yet distant. In his obvious abstraction with the water, she turned her head to look at him. His body was hidden by the black cloak that covered him, but she could see that he possessed a large, imposing build. The dim lights along the levee picked up blue-black highlights in his dark hair. His features were still covered by a plain, black mask.
In a tremulous voice, Maria asked, “May I go now?”
“If you want to,” was the man’s indifferent reply.
By all rights, Maria knew she should have gotten up and left then, but some force beyond her reckoning held her captured in its spell. She remained seated and looked out at the river.
After a moment, her confidence grew and she said, “I want to thank you for what you did.”
“I did nothin’,” the man softly replied.
“That’s not true,” Maria corrected him. “I don’t know what that person had in mind, but I’m sure he was up to no good.”
This won a response from the man. He turned to look at her. While she could not see his eyes, she could feel the penetration of their intensity.
He held her pinned back against his gaze for a moment, and then said, “What are you doin’ here, all alone?”
Maria took a deep breath and replied, “I’ve come to see Mardi Gras.”
The man now shifted his position to face his body toward hers. She pulled away in her mind, but Maria’s body did not move. When man spoke again, it was in a taunting voice.
“What does a little, red butterfly like you have to do with Mardi Gras?”
“I’ve always wanted to see it,” Maria responded in a small voice, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his direct presence.
“All alone?” he inquired.
“I’ve never had a problem like that before.”
“And where is the man who should be takin’ care of you?”
This question confused the young woman. She said, “My father is with my mother in Illinois.”
There was a period of silence that she found to be uncomfortable.
Then, the man asked, “How old are you, child?”
“I’m not a child!” Maria heatedly replied. “I’m twenty-four!”
“And your twenty-four years led you here?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“That isn’t the way I saw it.”
Maria fidgeted nervously on her seat, and then returned, “You just happened by at an unexpected moment.”
“Life is full of unexpected dangers.”
This interplay of words grated against Maria’s sense of independence.
She refuted his doubts by saying, “I could have handled it.”
The man laughed. It was only a wisp of sound, and then it was gone.
“What’s your name?” he asked in a more conventional voice.
“Maria.”
He turned to look at her more directly.
“This can be a dangerous city, Maria,” he finally said.
“I can see that,” the librarian asserted. “I’ll have to be more careful about where I go.”
“Would you like me to walk you back to your hotel?”
“How did you know I was staying in a hotel?”
“Where else would a little butterfly like you stay?”
These words made Maria pause for a moment. Finally, she relented, saying, “I would appreciate that.”
Without asking what question she had replied to, the man stood up. He towered over Maria as she followed his lead.
“Which hotel?” he asked.
After deciding that she would be safe in his company, Maria told him where she was staying. The man turned and walked on. She followed him. It felt uncomfortable to be led like this, so when the sidewalk would allow it, she walked at his side. Briefly, she would steal glances in his direction, but he did not look back at her.
At the front entrance of the hotel, the man stopped and said, “Here we are.”
Maria was equally terse when she replied, “Thank you.”
When she would have gone in without saying another word, her masked protector stopped her by putting his hand on her arm. Maria turned to him in surprise. He was so tall that she had to turn her head back to look up into his face.
“How darin’ do you pretend to be?” he asked.
“I’m no coward,” Maria ardently assured him.
“Meet me tomorrow afternoon at noon where we sat tonight.”
“I might not be able to,” the young woman hastily replied.
“If you dare, meet me there.”
Before Maria could make any further explanation, he was gone. She stared after him, but the dark figure was obscured by the passage of others. After she returned to her room, it was a long while before she could sleep.
She had the task that faced her in the morning, and she had the man’s invitation. The first problem, she felt fairly certain she could handle. The second, she was not sure about at all.
CHAPTER 2
Maria was awakened by the sound of a telephone ringing on the table beside the bed. It was the manager. He told her that Mr. DuPont had called and left another message for her, saying he was sorry he had missed her yesterday and that he would n
ot be able to meet her until seven o’clock that evening. She should enjoy herself. He would see her later.
Maria began to have doubts about the depth of his love for his fiancée. He appeared to be more interested in business than romance. This did not sound like the ardent lover that Marla Fontaine had described. Perhaps the two months of separation had taken its effect on him, too.
A look at the clock showed her it was just after nine. Maria was surprised that she had slept so late. Her troubled thoughts of the previous night had kept her awake longer than she had suspected. A peek out the window revealed it was another sunny day.
Taking advantage of her free use of room service, Maria ordered croissants and coffee. She then decided to dress in the mint green gown she had made to wear as a costume. It was not nearly as elaborate as the one Marla had given her, but its simple lines flattered her figure, giving her the appearance of greater height.
Maria did not put on the white feathered mask that was meant to accompany the gown until she stepped out of the hotel. The street party had continued in her absence. It had swelled to the point that the narrow streets of the old city could barely contain the mobs of party-goers.
Maria allowed herself to be jostled along with the flow of the crowd. Bourbon Street was the center of activities. From almost every doorway came the music of another band. The noise was overwhelming and the whole area smelled profusely of alcoholic beverages. For a while, Maria stood by the curb and took pictures of a passing parade, trying to ignore the unsavory activities that the celebration attracted. There was a mad scramble every time beads or coins were thrown out to the crowd from one of the floats. She managed to catch two necklaces, laughing in triumph as the others did.
By late morning, Maria realized that she was tired. She needed to find a quiet place to sit down and unwind. As she thought about last night’s adventure, she recalled the benches on the levee. She felt it would surely be safe to go there at this time of day.
On her way there, Maria stopped to take a picture of the cathedral in Jackson Square. The statue of Andrew Jackson on horseback appeared to be in salute to the crowds. When she finally jostled her way to the view of the Mississippi, she took a few shots of the river and a passing paddleboat.
A glance behind her revealed that the bench she had sat on yesterday was unoccupied. Without thinking of anything except her tired feet, she took a seat. The sun was bright overhead, yet Maria enjoyed the warmth it brought to this rather cool February day.
Suddenly it occurred to her that it was almost time for her meeting with the mysterious stranger of last night. She had never quite been able to decide whether or not she wanted to see him again. The way he had presented his invitation as a challenge irked her. She was not afraid to meet him again, but she had to wonder if it would be wise. He had been her protector, and yet, some of his words held an undercurrent of possible danger. Maria wondered if she had subconsciously put herself in this position to meet with him again.
She pondered over the possibilities, and then pushed them aside in the excitement of the Mardi Gras festivities. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized she must have come to a decision, for it could not have been mere coincidence that had led her to this spot at this time. A look at her watch told her it was almost noon.
She still had time to back out, but her thoughts kept her rooted in place. Everything looked so much brighter and safer in the daylight. Even her attitude was lighter. Maria had been delighted with the freedom she had been given that day. She was no longer afraid to be alone in this strange, exhilarating town. It gave her the greatest sense of independence she had ever felt, and that made her feel daring and impetuous.
Why should she isolate herself from new experiences until her friend’s fiancé sent her back home? By then, it would be too late to enjoy herself. Her chance to be daring would be gone.
Yes, she would stay there and wait for the dark stranger to arrive. Once the decision had firmly been made, Maria felt stronger. This was something her roommate would do. Marla would never shy away from anything that might have romantic overtones. She would go boldly into it with laughter and vivacity.
For one time in her life, Maria Jones was determined to act just like Maria Fontaine. Why shouldn’t she take advantage of the situation while it presented itself? For once in her life, she would be the one to have an exciting escapade of her own! She had all of the background she needed to make her dream seem real . . . a suite in a luxurious hotel, glamorous clothing, and free meals. This was something that the model always took for granted. This time Maria would be the one to return home with a story to tell. Marla was beautiful and she had an exciting career. Today, Maria Jones felt beautiful, too, and with the masquerade of Mardi Gras to condone her deception, she could also be thought of as a successful model. Why shouldn’t she claim she was? No one would ever discover her deceit.
As Maria filled her mind with the raptures of her daydreams, someone sat beside her. At first, she was unaware of his presence. Then, as she felt his gaze upon her, she turned to look at into the same black mask she had seen the night before. The man looked back at her with the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.
“What were you thinkin’ about, butterfly?” he asked in a lazy drawl.
Maria’s sense of confusion quickly passed. She smiled openly and looked out at the river.
“I was just feeling happy,” she replied.
“I noticed that look on your face and hoped that anticipation of my arrival had put it there.”
“Oh, I wasn’t thinking about you,” Maria quickly corrected him.
“Then what put such a sparkle in your eyes? Do you have another boyfriend?” the man asked lightly.
“No. I was thinking about my career’.”
“Really? It must be somethin’ special to take your mind off Mardi Gras.”
“It is!” Maria enthusiastically replied. “I didn’t tell you last night, but I’m a model.”
Even with the mask covering most of his upper face, Maria thought she could detect a dubious frown in his features.
Before he had a chance to say anything, she blurted out, “Don’t you believe me? It’s true, you know. I model high-fashion clothing for a major international designer.”
The fire in the man’s eyes burned even brighter as he said, “Why shouldn’t I believe you, Maria? Even with that mask on, I can tell that you’re a beautiful young woman.”
“Do you really think so?” Maria asked a bit too anxiously, the compliment in the man’s words making her momentarily forget her charade.
“Well, let’s see,” the man thoughtfully replied as he steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “Why don’t you take off your mask?”
Suddenly, Maria felt shy. She was afraid he might be disappointed when he saw her whole face. Sensing her reluctance, the stranger reached over and lifted the mask before Maria had the chance to stop him.
When she would have pulled it back into place, he said, “Stop fighting me. You act as though I’m undressing you.”
Waves of crimson rose heatedly through Maria’s face as her resistance subsided. The man left the white mask on top of her hair and stared down at her with a smile. Maria had to look away, flushing again in fear that he would not think she was pretty enough to be what she claimed.
“You’re blushin’,” he stated offhandedly.
“What?” she replied in confusion.
“I said you’re blushin’. I thought models were above that sort of thing.”
“I am a model!” Maria stubbornly insisted.
“Your face is too sweet and pretty to take on that expression of hauteur. If you really want to prove it to me, you should get up and display your gown the way you do on stage.”
“What?” the young woman cried out in sudden embarrassment.
“You heard me. Get up and walk back and forth. It should be no problem for you since you’ve done it so many times before.”
Maria would not allow him to
discredit her any further. She mustered all of her bravado and stood up. Then, with the same smooth, graceful steps that she had seen Marla take when she was in a show, she walked forward a few steps, turned, posed, and walked back to turn again. She could feel the man’s eyes burning through her poise.
“Very nice,” he commented after she had stopped. “Do it again.”
“Do what?”
“Turn around and strut back and forth again.”
Maria’s confidence was on the point of shattering. Regardless of her mortification, she would not let this man get the better of her. She would prove out her deception if it was the last thing she did.
As she completed her final turn, the heel of her shoe caught in the hem of her gown. With a gasp, she fell into the man’s immediately outstretched arms. He caught her and brought her unbalanced body to rest across his lap.
“Superb performance,” he said with a wisp of a laugh. “You must sell enormous amounts of clothes if you treat all of your male buyers to such a delightful finale.”
With no sense of composure, Maria scrambled hastily off of his lap. The blush was back as she sat back down on the bench.
“It’s just the gown!” she explained in embarrassment. “This is the first time I’ve worn it!”
“Do you practice wearin’ your other clothes before you go on stage?”
“Stop questioning me!” Maria cried out in frustration. “You made me take off my mask; why don’t you take off yours!”
“I didn’t think you were curious enough to want to see my face,” the man blandly replied.
“Well, I am. If you’re going to make fun of me, the least you can do is let me see your face!”
“All right.”
The stranger removed his mask, and then looked at Maria as though he expected her to make some comment. She was too busy staring at his fine, aristocratic features to do anything else. Maria had never guessed he would turn out to be so handsome.
After bearing with her scrutiny for a long moment, he said, “I hope I meet with your approval.”
