A Love for Rebecca

by Uceda, Mayte

  She shook her head, unable to speak. She didn’t want him to stop and almost whimpered at the thought of him doing so. Nervous at the possibility, she held his neck and raised her body up to kiss him.

  Her kiss was so determined, so definitive, that whatever hesitation he may have been feeling vanished. Still kissing her, he slowly undid the buttons of her dress. She breathed faster as his hands moved lower, and when he opened up her dress, she released her bra in the front, freeing her breasts, offering her body to him.

  Kenzie’s arousal was so intense he had to pause. He pulled back a little and contemplated her body in the bluish glow of the night sky. Then he lowered his head, rested it on her chest, and breathed in her scent.

  Rebecca thought she would go mad when he kissed and bit her nipples, which stood erect like icebergs in the ocean, hard with arousal and the cool air of the forest. His hand, so hot and sure, descended her belly and slipped around to the small of her back. He moved his hand under the lace and closed it over her buttock, caressing and squeezing the muscle. He pulled down on the strip of fabric, and she slid her panties off. Rebecca grabbed for the bottom of his T-shirt and helped him pull it over his head. Then he shifted slightly and unzipped his jeans. Her gaze lingered. Her need to feel his body overshadowed every other sense.

  She was consumed by her desire for him. Everything else was relative, and nothing compared to the magnitude of her desire; not Mario, not her mother, not her future. Reality collapsed to just the two of them and the surrender of their bodies.

  “Look at me,” he begged, holding her face.

  It took her a moment to focus, but when she did, she forgot her life of inhibitions.

  “I need you now,” he said, his voice altered, sounding near and far at the same time. “Look at me, Rebecca.”

  She obeyed, losing herself in the depth of his eyes while he gently but firmly sank into her. Her back arched, and she let out a long sigh. “Kenzie . . .”

  He caught her lips in a kiss, stifling her moan and holding her more firmly.

  They loved each other without speaking. The sound of their breathing blended with the sounds of the forest and the breeze that rustled the highest leaves on the trees. They were in perfect harmony with the nature that embraced them.

  For a moment he stopped and looked at her, his eyes inflamed. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”

  But words could not break through the intensity of her emotions. She trembled with pleasure and held tightly to the masculine presence that filled her to her core. His scent intoxicated her as much as his body did. Kenzie smelled like Loch Ness; the essence of the lake had permeated his hair and skin. She could feel his breath as if it were her own; his heartbeat was her heartbeat. She wanted to promise him she would never leave, wanted God to be her witness; and, if necessary, she would swear to the Celtic gods too.

  But she knew she couldn’t make that promise.

  “Promise me,” he insisted, moving gently inside her.

  Rebecca wrapped her arms around him. Her ring glimmered, throwing off golden sparks, as if it were a new star hanging on her finger. “I’ll never leave you.”

  Kenzie’s eyes sparkled in the darkness. His mouth widened into a broad, gentle smile.

  Night began to fade, and with each moment more details came into focus. As dawn approached, remnants of mist floating in the forest gathered over the surface of the lake.

  Still in each other’s arms, they watched the dawn fill in, and when the day had broken through the night, they returned to camp, wishing they didn’t have to be apart for even a moment.

  Berta was sleeping but woke with a start when she heard the sound of the tent zipper. She was immediately awake and, in a whisper, bombarded her friend with questions that Rebecca was in no state to answer. She assured Berta that she was fine and climbed into her sleeping bag.

  But she did not sleep immediately. She was still intoxicated by the pleasure of his touch.

  Kenzie’s voice and spirit echoed inside her like a drum. He was in her bones and her blood, and he traveled through her body, holding her captive. She thought of his last words as they parted. “I’m going to Skye tomorrow. My grandfather’s house needs some work. Come with me; we’ll spend your final days here together. I want to show you the color of the Black Cuillin at dawn, the flight of the puffins over the cliffs, and the sound of the waves on the rocky shore.”

  The thought comforted her like the arms of a lover.

  Her eyelids grew heavy as the sun awakened the rest of the camp.

  COME WITH Me

  She was alone in the tent when she awoke. Memories of the night rushed into her head; she had to stay still and take a deep breath. She wanted to see Kenzie but was discouraged when she thought about the others, particularly Mary. The camp was quiet. She didn’t hear anything but the cheerful songs of the birds. Screwing up her courage, she emerged awkwardly from the tent.

  She found Berta, Lola, and Rory seated cross-legged around the cold fire. They watched her uncertainly—especially Lola, who looked remorseful.

  “Rebecca, I—” she began.

  Rebecca cut her off with a curt wave as she sat down next to them. She rested her head in her hands under the gaze of the three worried faces. She would be paying for her lack of sleep.

  “I’m sorry,” Lola insisted. “I’m a bigmouth. I don’t know how I could say those things. Rory told me everything this morning. I hardly remember any of it.”

  “Yes, you are a bigmouth, but you can’t do anything about it now.”

  “I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him I made it all up. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Forget it, Lola.”

  “Not until you forgive me, please . . .”

  Rebecca sighed. She couldn’t stay angry with her. Thanks to Lola’s recklessness, she’d had the most amazing night of her life. Still, she couldn’t forget how Lola had exposed her in front of everyone. Lola deserved to be put in her place.

  “You need to control your tongue, or someday it’ll get you in serious trouble.” She sighed again. “God only knows what everyone thought.”

  “Well, Sophie seemed cheerful this morning,” Lola said.

  Berta elbowed her, and Rory quickly added, “No one’s judging you, Rebecca, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She rolled her eyes and then realized the four of them were alone. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “They headed to the castle early,” Berta said. “They’ll be back in time for lunch.”

  Rebecca’s stomach churned when she thought of facing them . . . facing Mary. She quickly weighed her options. She wanted to see Kenzie, but the campsite had become uncomfortable.

  She looked at Rory, who was seated across from her. “Can you take me back to Beauly?”

  “Now?” Lola protested.

  Rebecca silenced her with a murderous look. “You owe me!”

  “It’s not a problem,” Rory assured her. “I’ll be back in an hour and a half to help take down the tents.”

  “I’m going with you,” Berta said.

  “No, Berta, please,” Rebecca said. “You stay here and enjoy the rest of the time. Tell the others I’m sorry and . . . and . . . Tell them whatever you want.”

  “Fine, but as soon as I get back, you’re going to tell me what happened last night in the pine trees,” Berta said, indicating the direction Rebecca had fled in the night before.

  Lola questioned Rory with a look.

  “I don’t know anything,” he said. “I swear. She ran away after you blabbered, and he followed her.”

  Then Lola looked at Berta. “Why didn’t you two tell me?”

  “You already had enough to deal with.”

  “Did that brute do anything to you?” Lola wanted to know.

  Rory reprimanded her: “Kenzie’s not a brute. You’d rather
have Rebecca lost in the woods?”

  “I only got as far as that hut by the path,” Rebecca said. She paused and looked at the lake. “We talked, and he said he didn’t believe you.”

  Lola’s face lit up. “Great, then everything’s taken care of. When the others get here, I’ll tell them I was delirious, that you love your fiancé more than anything, and—”

  “Stop it, Lola!” Rebecca massaged her temples. Her head was throbbing. She didn’t want to listen anymore. She didn’t want to hear Mario’s name, not when she could still feel Kenzie’s touch. She just wanted to leave.

  “If you leave, everyone will think Lola was right,” Berta pointed out.

  “I don’t care.”

  On the fifteen-mile drive back to Beauly, Rebecca lost herself in thought, letting her mind go blank. But Kenzie and the things he had said and done permeated her being.

  Rory was content to allow Rebecca her reverie. At one point, she turned to face him. She studied the shy man who’d managed to win the heart of her wild friend. He sensed her curiosity and glanced her way, a blush setting in. Rebecca saw him swallow and thought perhaps it was his vulnerability that Lola had fallen for.

  “What?” Rory said, a little intimidated by the green eyes analyzing him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I was thinking about what Lola said last night, about the two of you. Is it true?”

  He swallowed again, a bright red spreading over his face and neck.

  “Yes, she suggested we live together in Edinburgh.”

  “Do you love her?” she asked. A smile spread across his face. “Yes, you love her,” she answered her own question.

  “Actually, I asked her to marry me.”

  Rebecca caught her breath. “Really?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Yeah, don’t tell me, I know. She’s allergic to marriage.”

  “Her words exactly. But she said if I could find a druid, she’d marry me in a Celtic ceremony.”

  “That’s so her. What about you? Are you Catholic?”

  “Presbyterian.”

  “Oh.” Rebecca felt a pensive look cross her face. Then she asked, “What’s a Celtic wedding like?”

  “Well, there’s the handfasting ceremony—sort of an ancient pagan betrothal—which was legally binding in Scotland until 1939.”

  “Are there still druids today?”

  “Most that are left are really old, and I don’t have much faith in the new ones.”

  Rebecca grew quiet again, but Rory continued talking. “Kenzie told me he saw a lot of Celtic weddings on Skye.”

  At the mention of his name, Rebecca turned away.

  “The druid who officiated at them was one of the old ones I told you about. I suppose he’s dead now. Kenzie said the ceremonies were beautiful. He used to hide behind trees and bushes to watch.”

  Rory soon realized that bringing up Kenzie’s name had not been a good idea. Rebecca lost herself in thought again until they pulled up to the cottage on Riverside Drive.

  The first thing she did was draw a bath. She felt as if the cold damp of the lake had penetrated to her bones. She filled the tub, climbed in, and luxuriated in the steamy warmth. She was alone and had the whole afternoon to herself.

  She emerged wrapped in a white bathrobe, with a towel around her head. She made a sandwich for lunch and dried her hair before sitting down at the table. Later she rested on the sofa, where sleep soon overtook her. She slept deeply for more than an hour, until the ringing of her cell phone woke her. She scrambled to find it at the bottom of her backpack and pushed the “Talk” button without looking to see who it was.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s me, Rebecca. What? Did you forget about me already?”

  “Mario!” Hearing his voice brought on a rush of guilt. She tried to concentrate. “Well, I knew you were really busy . . .”

  “Just kidding, babe. And really, it has been a hectic week. The headmaster of the school that hired you filed a lawsuit against their financial advisors. Some bad business moves lost them a lot of money and he’s really ticked off. Plus, I’m in negotiations with a group of investors from Qatar that wants to acquire a five-star hotel in Barcelona. If that goes well, my commissions will be huge. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but we might have to make a few trips to Doha to discuss the conditions of the sale with the National Hotel Company in Qatar. Those Arabs are loaded and don’t know what to do with all their money.”

  The silence on the other end made Mario think the call had been dropped. “Rebecca, are you still there?”

  “Yes, I was listening,” she responded distractedly.

  “We’ve got our hands full. Negotiations can be slow with this kind of international deal, yet we have to be prepared to move quickly and have everything ready to go. I asked your father and mine if I could be lead counsel for the hotel and deal with the investors directly, since I speak better English than they do.”

  “Enric speaks perfect English too,” she reminded him.

  “True, but your brother doesn’t have any business savvy, remember.”

  “Maybe it’s because he’s never had the chance to prove what he can do.”

  “Calm down, babe, no need to get worked up. I’m in a good mood, even though I have to work this weekend.”

  She was quiet as Mario continued his monologue about the Qatar businessmen’s plans to invest in telecommunications and infrastructure in Spain. If this first deal went well, the financial law firm of Caralt & Bassols could become the main source of legal counsel for investors from the Persian Gulf. The prestige resulting from such international clients would be significant.

  Rebecca’s mind wandered. She’d never understood financial law and never really cared. Her father and brother didn’t talk about work—just the occasional story worth telling—and they never droned on the way Mario did about the cases he was working on, particularly the international ones. She always tried to listen attentively but could not sustain interest.

  After they hung up, she realized he hadn’t asked anything about her vacation. It was a relief, but also disappointing. She wondered if he truly cared about what she was doing. Everything was about him, his life, his job, his plans. At times, Rebecca felt like a requisite accessory, nothing more.

  She refused to think about going home; if she did she would cry. The uncertainty of her immediate future rested heavily on her shoulders and weighed on her chest with a suffocating feeling.

  She settled on the sofa again, trying to relax. But the quiet moment didn’t last. The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Munro appeared with a worried look on her face. She’d seen Rebecca arrive and asked if she was all right. Rebecca invited her in and set out tea and biscuits for them.

  “When I saw Rory Elliot bring you home, I thought maybe you weren’t feeling well,” she said, as she added sugar to her tea.

  “I came back because”—Rebecca thought quickly—“the mosquitoes were eating me alive.”

  “Oh, those pesky midges are the worst in Scotland. Did you like the lake?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s beautiful! But the water was like ice.”

  “Heavens. Did you get in?”

  “Not for long.”

  “You’ll catch pneumonia.”

  “Yesterday was a beautiful day to swim.”

  “Well, yes, it was a lovely day.” She leaned toward Rebecca with an impish smile and patted her on the leg. “Tell me, dear, is there anything between you and Kenzie? The other day, when I saw you together, you two seemed . . .” Her words trailed off.

  Taken aback by the older woman’s directness, Rebecca hesitated, uncertain what to say. She didn’t want to lie to the woman. “I’m not sure,” she replied.

  “Dear, do you see these white hairs? I earned them over a good many years. You young people think we old ones h
ave always been old. You forget we were your age once and have gone through all the same things. Believe me, someday you’ll have white hair too, and the happy moments you experienced in your youth will come back and sweeten your days with memories.” She sighed. “Intense feelings are not easily forgotten, even though the years pass. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, just as I’ve seen your friend and the Elliot boy. Goodness, you girls have come a long way to fall in love.”

  After Mrs. Munro left, Rebecca settled herself on the couch again. She couldn’t stop thinking about what the older woman had said, or about the frustrating conversation with Mario. But mostly, she couldn’t stop thinking about Kenzie’s invitation before they parted. To spend some time alone with him on Skye sounded like a dream. To be with him every hour of the day, to be able to look at him without feeling this guilt that was tormenting her. She couldn’t think of anything that would make her happier. But did she deserve it? Could she live this dream without feeling guilty?

  She might have been dozing when she heard the sound of Berta and Lola returning home. She jumped up and went out to meet them. She looked across the yard, hoping to see Kenzie’s truck, but there was only Rory’s red car by the side of the road.

  The three girls went to the back garden. It was still daylight, and the temperature was comfortable. They sat on the wrought-iron chairs and talked about Lola and her plans for a future with Rory. Berta cast Rebecca the occasional keen look, as if she knew that something had happened the night before, something Rebecca was keeping to herself.

  “We’ll give it a try and see what happens,” Lola was saying. “Sometimes living together kills the romance.”

  “And sometimes it brings a couple closer together,” Berta said.

  “That’s why you need a trial run before taking the big step,” Lola said, looking at Rebecca, who was not paying any attention. “And that’s why I’ve decided to become a Hare Krishna and go to India to recite mantras.”