“It was beautiful,” Lourdes said, shaking her head. He had wooed her, it seemed, despite her firm intentions to resist wooing. Presumably this would not have worked as well had she not understood Portuguese. On the other hand, if poetry was all it took, she was going to be weak on the fronts of not only Portuguese and English, but also Spanish, Italian, French and even Latin, since she spoke and read all those languages and dabbled in a few more besides. But she was nobody to trifle with, in any language. I was impressed that Jack had managed to sway her opinion.
As we were gathering our things to leave and agreeing that the dinner had been lovely and saying we should make plans to meet again before the week was out and so forth, Lourdes commented to Jack that she’d liked his first poem better. He just smiled and nodded, saying he was glad she’d enjoyed it, and he’d meant every word. And then he took my hand very firmly in his, with a calm air of possessiveness that stunned me.
“My dear, perhaps I’ll walk ahead with Katherine,” Arthur began, as we headed down the Avenida, intending to return directly to the hotel. He sounded a bit anxious—and a bit rehearsed too. “We had that little something to discuss.”
“Do you know, Arturo, I prefer you to walk with me.” Lourdes offered her husband a winning smile, not only an echo of her past beauty but a force to be reckoned with then and there. “I think Mr. Benedict will take Katherine down to the beach now, to walk in the moonlight and recite poetry to her, instead of to an old woman. Buenasnoches, Mr. Benedict, Katherine.” And with that, she swept her husband away, brooking no argument, leaving me somewhat speechless there in the middle of the sidewalk with Jack.
Arthur just shrugged and waved at me over his shoulder, but then turned away and angled his head down, the better to hear whatever his captivating wife was telling him. They were quickly lost in the crowd and I turned back to see Jack standing at ease, his free hand in his pocket, his patented smug smile on his face.
“I was expecting them to try to rescue me from your clutches and instead you’re given permission to take me to the beach and recite poetry to me in the moonlight?” I asked, marveling at the way he’d played the situation.
“What can I say? I’m good with people.” He pulled me along and across the street, over one block to the beach, where we took our shoes off and headed down closer to the water’s edge.
“What was the poem she liked better?” I asked idly, after we’d walked for a few minutes, skimming the tide line. “She looked positively enthralled.”
“I can really only say it in Portuguese,” he said coyly.
“Well, Lourdes did say you were supposed to bring me here and recite poetry in the moonlight. So I should probably hear something. She may expect me to report back in the morning.”
“Seriously?”
“At this point, I wouldn’t put it past her. I’m really sorry about all that in there, by the way.”
“They were just looking out for you. You must have been one hell of a research assistant. Ah, who am I kidding? Of course you were one hell of a research assistant. Arthur’s chomping at the bit to get you back. And I can only assume he’s not the only one. Kate, why didn’t you stay and keep working on—”
“Are you just stalling? Do you not know any poetry in English?” I had snapped without meaning to and instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry, just…I heard it from the professor all through dinner, so can we table that topic for now? I really don’t know why anymore, anyway, so my answers aren’t likely to be very good.”
“Fair enough. Do you really want to hear the poem?” I nodded, and he screwed up his face in concentration. “It’s actually by the guy who wrote the lyrics to ‘Girl from Ipanema’. It’s a sonnet though, about fidelity. Or…faithfulness, I guess. Saying ‘fidelity’ makes it sound like it’s about not cheating. I really can’t translate the whole thing very well. I’m going to have to leave some things out.
“To my love I shall be…attentive above all and always with passion…so that even in the face of the greatest enchantment, my thoughts…only become more enchanted by my love. I want to live it in each…something I can’t translate…each moment, and praising it I will sing my song, share my laughter and shed my tears, when she is worried or when she is…not happy, or, um…content. So that…something about how if I were dying, I could say to myself about this love, may it not live forever, because it is a flame, but let it be endless for as long as it lasts. That’s pretty much the gist of it.”
“That’s…” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I can tell it’s beautiful. You were right about translating it, but—”
“I did warn you,” he said with an easy laugh. “I’m not the one with the language skills here. I have people to do that for me.”
“It was beautiful. So…that’s what won Lourdes over?”
“I guess so. A little poetry goes a long way.”
Chapter Fifteen
We walked somewhat aimlessly along the shore, which was not nearly as deserted as one was led to believe from movies, even at this time of night. There was a bonfire there, not too far from the hotel, and a party of some sort. We skirted it and kept going, seeking darkness and never really finding it.
“So,” Jack said finally. “I am having the best week. Have I told you that? I really didn’t expect this week to turn out like this.”
“Me either. It’s fun though.”
“You sound a little sad, Kate. Fun’s not supposed to be sad.”
I smiled and wrapped my arm a little farther around his, leaning my head briefly on his shoulder as we walked. “I’m not sad. I just can’t help thinking about going back. It’ll all be over and it’s been…fun. And not what I expected.”
Jack was silent for a minute then surprised me utterly by asking, “When you say it’ll all be over, you mean the Rio part, right? Because it almost sounds like you think the whole thing will be over—and that’s not what I want. I don’t think it’s what you want either.”
Ah. Well. At least I knew he wanted to keep going when we got back. Although the potential terms of such an arrangement could still be interpreted too many ways to count. “When we get back,” I equivocated, “it won’t be dreamlike anymore. It’ll be Houston, for one thing. And there will be work, which is going to be really strange. And there’s not knowing if I’m supposed to invite you to meet my family, and do we stay the night right away, and do we assume we’re doing something together every weekend, and can I keep a toothbrush at your place, and…”
Jack laughed out loud and tugged me to him with a little yank, halting our progress and throwing his arms around me, picking me up by my waist and kissing me soundly, spontaneously, before setting me gently back down on the sand. “Katie, I think you need a little downtime. Your brain is working too hard again, isn’t it?”
“Always,” I admitted regretfully, wishing he would just kiss me again.
“When we get back to the hotel, I’ll see to it that you don’t think for the rest of the night, little one.” His words, his low murmur in my ear—for my benefit, because it wasn’t as though there was anybody close enough to hear us on the beach—sent chills racing through me, from my stomach down to my legs. “But we should probably talk about some things first.”
“No,” I said, deliberately whining. “No talking. Talking sucks. I hate talking.”
It earned a chuckle, but he was going to talk anyway. “Okay, first things first. Big confession time. Are you ready?”
“No,” I said truthfully. “But you’re going to say it anyway, so let ’er rip. Is this about Marisa?”
“Oh…no. I’ll tell you about her, but let me do this other one first, all right? Let’s stick to the agenda. This is about the other night.”
“Oh.” So this was “later”…when we’d agreed to talk about it. “Later” always seemed to arrive so soon.
“I wanted you to know that was really not what I’d intended to have happen. Mood-wise, I mean. I don’t normally… When there’s discipline, I al
ways feel like I’m either inventing rules that are sort of meaningless to me or just making up infractions after the fact to justify the whole thing. Which works, I guess. Everyone seems happy with that arrangement. It’s sort of what we’re about, right? It’s part of a scene. But that time—”
“It was real,” I interjected.
“Exactly. And the whole thing scared the shit out of me for a couple of reasons. For one thing, I was surprised by my own reactions. I felt so disappointed in you—”
“I’m so sorry! I just wasn’t thinking, I was so sleepy, it—”
“Kate. Stop talking.”
“Sorry.”
“Kate, I really don’t mean I was disappointed about you falling asleep. I mean, look at it logically. You were exhausted from the flight, the hiking and swimming, relaxed from the massage. There’s really no way you could have stayed awake in that bed. Once you were down you were going to be out. It’s a non-issue. Consider it paid, okay?”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly.
“Would you feel better if I gave you that one last swat?”
“Ultimately, probably yes. But not right this second.”
“Duly noted. Here…” He pulled me down to sit next to him on the sand and threw an arm around my shoulders. “Too cold?”
I shook my head. It was perfect, in fact, the temperature felt like air-conditioning. It had rained earlier in the day so it was a bit more humid than usual, but still I could hardly complain.
“What really bothered me, and this is the part that had me a little freaked out, because it didn’t actually have anything to do with the sex—well, indirectly it did, obviously—was when I told you to go upstairs and you kept on teasing. No, stop, don’t keep apologizing or you will get that last lick now. It’s just that I was genuinely upset. And I can’t remember ever actually feeling that way before, in that situation. Not that I’ve had all that much experience. I guess at some point here, it’ll be time for me to tell you my own sordid history. Marisa and all.
“But that feeling…it was really unsettling, to feel that way unexpectedly. In case you had missed it, I enjoy being in control.”
“No! You? Really?” I was pushing it, and knew it, but he’d left such an opening. Jack was good-natured about it though.
“I know, I know. But I hide it so well, right? And then we got into it and you were clearly taking it seriously too. I felt out of control, but I felt like I needed to go through with it. Because if I didn’t do it, didn’t follow through, not only would it confuse us both, it would feel dishonest. It was going to leave this issue hanging out there for us both to feel bad about. Which, obviously, is happening still, since I didn’t finish and you feel like you haven’t paid your dues yet.”
“It’s true. I sort of wish you’d just finished anyway. I know why you didn’t, but—”
“I couldn’t, Kate. You know that, right? It was a safety issue. Neither one of us is that hardcore. You were so out of it, I was really worried. I actually thought you might have been in shock for a few minutes there. Which was another reason the whole episode was scary. I mean, it’s my job to keep you safe. Weird as that may sound.”
“I’d never had that happen before,” I said, knowing I was repeating myself. “It was a little scary. But I think it was the same issue you were having. It felt real. And instead of it being a game, it was suddenly the person whose approval I craved the most being disappointed in me and feeling like he had to teach me a lesson. With a paddle, no less. That was… For some reason, that was the worst part. Because you’d said you liked using your hand. I felt genuinely ashamed. But the thing is, I did feel like it was necessary. You’d been very clear and I hadn’t met your expectation for me, and I wanted to make it right. That was my chance to make it right. I really felt that way—and I never feel that way. Because it’s a game, right? Deep down, why should I care? But I did care.”
Jack tightened his hold on my shoulders, pressing his face against my hair for a few seconds. “Person whose approval you craved the most?”
“Well…” It was more than I’d planned to say, but it had just slipped out.
“You have my approval. You do know that, don’t you?”
“I’m starting to realize that, yes,” I said, feeling the blush creep over me even though I knew it would not be visible to Jack in the growing moonlight.
“And since this is obviously turning into a meta-analysis, because we both think too much about stuff…you know that I don’t think I actually have any sort of entitlement to use corporal punishment to teach you anything, right?”
“Yes, I know you’re a sensitive, pro-woman kind of a guy, Jack. When you aren’t paddling girls for their own good, of course.”
“I really should put you over my knee for that right now.”
I giggled into his shoulder, feeling bubbly and relieved. “I try not to confuse people’s sexual preferences with their personalities. Everybody’s weird. That part, it just doesn’t pay to analyze. And if you really did think you were entitled to that, rest assured I wouldn’t want you to put me over your knee or tie me up or do any of those other things. A lot. Hopefully soon.”
“You’re making it hard for me to concentrate on our serious talk, Katherine.” Indeed, Jack’s hand was drifting down, fondling my waist and hip in a way that was making it equally hard for me to concentrate.
“Well, scary though it was, I felt like I needed it. I can’t guarantee I won’t feel that way again, Jack. And in all fairness, you felt like I needed it too. You needed to do it. And trusting you with that was…I don’t know, maybe we both just have to use a little caution. Forewarned is forearmed, that sort of thing.”
“That makes sense. But you said trusting me with that was…what?”
“Amazing,” I admitted. “It’s never been like that.”
He seemed to mull this over for a few minutes as we sat in companionable silence, just watching the waves. The sounds of the beach party blew closer with the wind then faded again, a counterpoint to the rhythm of the water against the shore.
“So,” he said finally, “do you want the full sordid history or the condensed version?”
I gave it some thought before answering. I did want to know, but not if it was going to ruin the night. “I guess the condensed version, with an option to know the full version if it seems important?”
“Of course. So. Marisa. Well, you probably figured out she’s Mario’s sister, so I guess I don’t have to mention how we met. Mario just sort of rolled his eyes at the whole thing. I was expecting him to pull the big-brother act, but he said Marisa would do what she wanted to do, and then he seemed to wash his hands of it. Not of me or our friendship, just…like my relationship with Marisa didn’t exist. Probably should’ve paid more attention to his attitude, because I think he knew from the start she didn’t mean for it to last.
“I was in college, of course, and we’ve already agreed that makes you an idiot, remember? So after I’d finished my masters and went back home for good to get a job, I was still stupid and Marisa could afford to make a lot of hops to Houston. I have no idea how she got the visas. She would come up about once a month, sometimes not quite that often. She was…an adventurous girl. She was into everything, she wanted to try everything at least once. I was just the lucky guinea pig, although it was obvious I hadn’t been the first.”
Jack sighed with a certain wistfulness. “She was wild. And as I already said, I was young and stupid. Also very idealistic. I was doing my first real job then, for a nonprofit wildlife rescue agency, and she loved that. Marisa was a big animal rights activist. At first. Eventually she got more into the anti-world-market thing, but at the time it was still all about spray painting furs and learning to be a vegan. She hated Houston, of course. Lotta furs and meat in Houston. I’d take her out to dinner and she’d complain about stuff, and then we’d go back to my ratty little garage apartment and…well, you know.”
“Yeah, I think I have a pretty good idea,” I sa
id dryly.
“This period of time, by the way, was when I figured out I liked being on top.”
“Really? She let you top? That surprises me for some reason.”
“She didn’t let me very often,” he said ruefully. “And of course there was always the awareness that she was only letting me, which is a little different. But still, when that happened…man.” He was lost in thought for a moment, remembering his wild girl, whom I hated now with every fiber of my irrational being.
“Anyway,” Jack finally continued. “I’d been in Houston about a year, with this insane Brazilian girlfriend I only saw once a month, and I decided my job sucked, being poor sucked, everything sucked—and I was going back for an MBA.”
“Oh, is this the part where you sold out?”
“Almost. That came later. It took me a couple years of night and weekend classes, and I wasn’t nearly as interested in it as I’d been in researching my masters, so my motivation was a lot lower. But I was living near my folks again, so they gave me the occasional kick in the butt. And about one year into working on the degree I got a much, much better job in—cue ominous music—”
I dutifully supplied a fairly pathetic-sounding, “Dunh, dunh, duuuunh!”
“Big. Oil.”
“Oh, you bastard.”
“Exactly. That, by the way, was my big sell-out moment. I paid off my student loans in a few months, bought a car that actually ran every time I started it, moved into an apartment with more than one room and an actual dishwasher. I was a grownup. And I liked it. Even the work part, which surprised me. I was doing the same thing as your old job, more or less.”
“And Marisa?”
“Came to visit a few more times, got her shapely bottom spanked a few times and was grumpy when I didn’t let her reciprocate anymore, then got downright bitchy when I finally just told her to shut the hell up about all the fur coats in Houston. Although that was my mistake, really. I had taken her to the symphony that particular night, so it was just a good thing she didn’t have spray paint with her. You know how much fur you tend to see at the symphony.
When in Rio Page 13
