An Indian Affair

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “Had enough?” he asked, lowering her weight suddenly, pretending he was about to drop her. “Say uncle.”

  “Uncle, uncle,” she gasped, clutching his shirt, breathless.

  “I don’t know,” he said, debating. “You don’t sound very sincere.” He shifted her suddenly, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “That’s much better,” he announced, as she kicked in protest. “Puts more distance between you and the piranhas.”

  “Piranhas are fish,” she squealed, laughing so hard she could hardly get the words out. “Don’t you think I know anything? Now put me down and let me walk.”

  He ignored her, proceeding on course until they broke through the screen of trees and reached the shore.

  “What do you think?” he asked, setting her down gently, keeping his arms around her so that she was standing with her back to him, his hands folded across her waist.

  “Oh, Drew, it’s lovely,” she breathed, taking in the placid, sun spattered surface of the water, the dense circle of encroaching cypresses all along the shore, the cloudless vault of the sky. “Where are we?”

  “This is my uncle’s place,” he answered, his voice in her ear. “I built the chiksee just around that bend to the left. He always meant to build a house here but he never did it.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s in jail,” Fox answered calmly. “For twenty years.”

  Cindy turned within the circle of his embrace to look at him. “Why? What did he do?”

  “He killed the man who had raped his wife,” Fox replied, watching her reaction to his statement.

  “Oh, Drew, how awful,” she whispered, trying to comprehend the enormity of it.

  “If you were my wife, I’d do the same to anybody who touched you,” he said flatly, in a tone that left no doubt that he meant it. Cindy felt a chill which had nothing to do with the weather.

  “Don’t you think you’d better go back for the basket?” she asked, wanting to change the subject. “Stay right here,” he directed. “Don’t wander off.” She nodded. She barely heard his footsteps through the trees; he was very quiet in his movements for a big man. When he returned she was rooted to the same spot, waiting.

  “Here’s the grub,” he said, spreading the cloth on the ground and setting out the wrapped packages and plastic containers. When it was all displayed they both looked at it.

  “I guess I’ve lost my appetite,” Cindy said, and turned away.

  He was beside her in a second. “Did I scare you, princess?” he asked, taking hold of her shoulders and forcing her to look at him.

  “A little,” she admitted. “I don’t like to hear you talk that way.”

  He enfolded her slowly, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, since I met you, I can understand how my uncle must have felt. When I think of somebody putting his hands on you, treating you roughly, forcing you…” The sentence trailed off as his hands tightened on her arms.

  “Shhh,” Cindy said, silencing him. “We shouldn’t have come here; I didn’t know about your uncle. It must be terrible for you to be reminded of all that.”

  “Not as terrible as it is for him to live it. I visit him with Walter. You should see my uncle now. He used to be so strong, so capable. Now he’s a beaten man.”

  “What became of his wife?” Cindy asked.

  “She died a few years after he went to jail,” Fox replied. “I was about twenty-five, I guess. Some disease, they said it was, but I think the whole tragedy just slowly killed her.” He held her off and looked at her. “Come on, princess, eat something. You don’t want to leave this feast for the squirrels.”

  They sat together on the ground, and once Cindy tasted some of the food her appetite returned. Everything was very good, and Fox produced tumblers of ice cold water from a well on the property that still worked. When they had packed away the leftovers he reclined on the tablecloth, using it as a blanket, and gestured for her to join him. When Cindy sat at his side, he pulled her down with him, molding her to his body. She relaxed against his shoulder, resting her cheek on his chest.

  “So what do you think of my kingdom?” Fox asked, gesturing with his free hand.

  “Is that what this is?” Cindy asked, looking around at the blue expanse of lake and sky.

  “Certainly. And you’re the captive princess from a foreign northern land who has been whisked away to dwell with me in the underworld.”

  Cindy smiled, closing her eyes and inhaling the clean fragrance of his skin, his soap. “I think you’ve got a few stories all mixed up there, Mr. Fox.”

  He changed their positions so that she was lying flat on her back and he was looking down at her. “But I’m perfectly clear on one thing,” he said.

  “What’s that?” Cindy asked, gazing up into the green eyes which seemed to fill the world.

  “The way I feel about you,” he answered, and kissed her.

  His mouth was so warm and soft, its pressure on hers so leisurely, that Cindy’s lips opened almost without volition. He kissed her for a long time, barely touching her except with his mouth, until she reached behind his head and pulled him closer, unconsciously inviting more. He reacted instantly, enfolding her, pressing her into the curve of his body. His mouth slipped from hers to the hollow of her throat.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured. “I’ve been trying to hold back with you, but I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

  Cindy moved, and he groaned, burying his flushed face in her neck. He lowered his weight onto her, holding himself up on his hands until their bodies were fused and then relaxing gradually. Cindy instinctively shifted to accommodate him, and then gasped as she felt the hardness of his desire, the muscular tension in his strong arms and lean, racehorse legs. His mouth sought hers again, and this time he abandoned all attempts to go slow. His tongue caressed hers as his hands came up to the buttons at the front of her sweater. Lost in his kisses, Cindy couldn’t object as he unbuttoned it and slipped his fingers inside the opening. His hand was hot, and yet gentle, cupping her breast through the lace brassiere and teasing the taut nipple with his thumb. Cindy moaned, turning her face away from his, lost in the sensation. He lowered his head, running his parted lips over the smooth skin he had exposed to view. His hands moved down to her hips, grasping them and forcing them upward into his. With one hand he lifted her skirt and sought the silken smoothness of her thighs, pressing her legs outward to allow him to lie more fully between them. The barrier of their clothing seemed to evaporate as Cindy knew, for the first time, what it must be like to receive a man.

  “Do you want me?” he rasped, reaching for the zipper on her skirt. “Do you want me to take you now?”

  Hearing him say it caused the flood tide of passion to recede long enough for reason to reassert itself. Cindy stiffened, and he felt it immediately. He sat up and gazed at her silently, his eyes glittering like gemstones.

  “I can’t do this, Drew,” she said, putting the back of her hand to her mouth. “I want you, surely you can tell that, but this just isn’t right.”

  “Why?” he said angrily. “Is it beneath your highness to grovel in the grass with a savage like me?”

  “Cheap shot, Drew,” she said sharply, her mouth tightening. “That isn’t true and you know it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a low tone, looking away. “You don’t deserve a remark like that.”

  Cindy rose to her feet, straightening her clothes. “I’m going for a walk,” she said shakily, seizing on the first idea that came into her head.

  His fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t run away from me,” he said, agonized. “Please.”

  “I’m not running away from you,” she replied, and it was the truth. She was running away from herself.

  “You’ll get lost,” he said, moving to get up also.

  “Don’t,” Cindy said quickly. “Don’t follow me, Drew; I need some time alone. I’ll keep to the shoreline and I won’t go far, all right?”

>   Fox subsided reluctantly, sitting back on his haunches, his expression grave as he watched her walk away.

  Cindy wandered along the edge of the water, her sandals sinking into the marshy grass. She took them off and carried them, walking barefoot, her mind a jumble of confusing images and thoughts.

  She didn’t know what to do. If she continued to see Fox, sooner or later their mutual passion would burst out of control, but the thought of not seeing him any more was unbearable. She’d never felt like this before, and her experience with men was so limited that she was unable to determine how to handle the situation. She couldn’t become just another one of Fox’s lovers, but she couldn’t give him up either. With him, she was alive in a way that was new to her. Up until the time she met him, her books and studies and quiet life had been sufficient. She hadn’t known what she was missing, like a person born blind who can’t appreciate the glory of a sun he has never seen. But now—she couldn’t go back to that former existence. It would never again be enough.

  Cindy pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to think. At the same time she caught sight of a structure in the distance, partially hidden by the trees. Curious, she moved forward, rounding a bend in the shoreline and confronting a little house made of logs and leaves. The chiksee, she thought. This was Fox’s construction, abandoned but still sturdy, silent and waiting, like a summer cottage restless for the return of its warm weather occupants.

  Cindy studied the chiksee, thinking about the care that had gone into the placement of every strip of bark, every leaf, and her throat tightened. What sort of man would build this from scratch, taking the time to put it together as his ancestors once had, just to see if he could do it? Others saw the tough exterior, the bounty hunter who chased human quarry for a living. But he had wanted Cindy to see another side of him, the man who loved his family and this isolated spot on a lonely lake.

  Taking a deep, quavering breath, Cindy came to a decision. She was going to stick with this, take it one step at a time, and hope she could deal with it. Fox was too special for her to do anything else. If she turned away from him, she would be sorry for the rest of her life.

  Walking slowly, she retraced her steps to the clearing where Fox awaited her. As she came closer she saw that he was lying on the tablecloth, and then she realized from his loose, boneless posture that he was asleep.

  Tiptoeing, she approached stealthily until she was standing over him, gazing down at his slumbering form.

  I’ll bet he got almost no sleep last night, she thought, remembering his remark about napping in the truck. There were blue shadows of fatigue under his eyes, and his body was sprawled in the careless, abandoned manner of pure exhaustion.

  Cindy glanced at her watch. She hated to wake him, but she had promised Paula that she would be back by five to monitor the phone. The woman who shared management duties with Paula was sick, and Paula had to work a double shift at the hospital in order to get a three day weekend she’d requested.

  Cindy sat next to him, tucking her legs under her and touching his shoulder. He stirred slightly, turning toward her, and his shirt, loosened by her eager hands earlier, rode up on his midriff.

  Cindy sucked in her breath. His ribs were taped all along his left side, and a deep, angry scratch below them was painted vivid carmine with iodine.

  She bit her lower lip, her eyes moving to his placid face. He must have been in pain all day with this, and yet he had given no sign, even doing the lawn work at his grandfather’s house. She and Eli had seen him only from the back, and nothing in his movements had indicated the presence of such an injury.

  Cindy tugged at his arm, harder, until the thick lashes lifted and he looked into her eyes. He was alert immediately, sitting up and looking around him.

  “It’s all right,” Cindy assured him. “You were only sleeping about half an hour.”

  He nodded and stretched, showing the white markings of the tape once again.

  “Drew, how did you get that?” Cindy asked quietly, pointing.

  He glanced down at himself, and then at her. “I’ll have to be a little neater in the future,” he said dryly, tucking in his shirt.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Fox shrugged. “The guy I went after last week didn’t agree that it was time for him to return to jail. He gave me some trouble, that’s all.”

  “That’s all!” she echoed, incredulous. “Drew, you should have told me that you were hurt. You shouldn’t be out with me today; you should be in bed, resting.”

  “Cindy, if I went to bed every time something like this happened on the job, I’d spend most of my time flat on my back.” He got to his feet, looking around for their scattered things.

  “Is that all you can say?” Cindy challenged him.

  He met her eyes. “No, that’s not all. I thought the time with you today was too important to miss, and that’s why I said nothing about my... mishap. I figured you’d react just like this.”

  Cindy dropped her eyes. She was only beginning to realize how dangerous his lifestyle was.

  “Does this sort of thing happen often?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Now and then,” he said vaguely, picking up the hamper and setting it aside, shaking out the tablecloth. She bent to help him, and he caught her hand.

  “Cindy, I want to ask you something.”

  She waited.

  “About what happened before, you don’t think I brought you here to... seduce you, do you?”

  She met his gaze squarely. “No, Drew, I never thought that.”

  His relief was only partial. “I just wanted you to see my special place, that’s all. I know that it’s secluded, but I honestly wasn’t thinking about getting you alone or anything.”

  His insistence was almost ingenuous, and she smiled. “Forget it, Drew. Now can we get this show on the road before the ants eat my ankles?”

  He nodded, unsmiling, and they packed up to go.

  Fox was silent on the way back to the truck, and Cindy wondered what he was thinking. There were no cute remarks about the wildlife underfoot or killer fish. Cindy missed the teasing banter, but his demeanor was serious and it didn’t look like it was going to change. When he handed her into the truck she smiled at him, and he didn’t smile back.

  The drive home seemed to pass in a blur of sunstruck palms and roadside stands. By the time they reached Paula’s apartment Cindy was convinced he was going to tell her that they shouldn’t see each other again. And why not? Other women didn’t refuse him; they didn’t make him work so hard. Cindy had heard enough from Paula to understand that, but she also knew that she couldn’t change her personality to suit his expectations. She was sitting in wordless misery, her hands folded in her lap like a grade schooler about to get a scolding, when Fox pulled into a parking place and shut off the motor.

  “I’ll take you up,” he said briefly, and walked at her side up the two sets of stairs, a trip that took an eternity. When they came to a halt outside Paula’s door, Cindy took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.

  “Thank you for my lovely day, Drew,” she said, making a brave attempt to finish everything gracefully.

  He stared at her for a second, and then, with a sound like a broken sigh, he cupped her face in his hands.

  “What a well brought up young lady you are,” he said quietly, rubbing his thumbs gently over her lower lip. “You look like you’re about to cry, and yet you’re able to say the right thing. Come on, princess, the last part of it wasn’t so lovely.”

  “It was too lovely, Drew. That was the problem.”

  He closed his eyes, and it was several seconds before he replied. “Cindy, your honesty is going to get both of us into trouble,” he said huskily, closing her lips with his fingers. “Don’t you know women aren’t supposed to make admissions like that?”

  “Why not, if it’s the truth.” She turned her head, avoiding his touch. “I didn’t want you to think that what happened was your fault.”

/>   He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. “You’re not mad at me, then?” he asked, searching her face.

  “No, of course not. Did you think I was?”

  He dropped his eyes. “I wasn’t sure. You’re always so polite. I thought maybe you were just toughing it out until you got home.” He shrugged. “Even if you did think the worst of me I figured you’d never tell me.”

  “But what about my famous honesty?” she asked, and he shook his head.

  “It would take a back seat to sparing my feelings, though, wouldn’t it?” he answered, and she permitted herself a slight nod.

  “Thought so.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Now, with that behind us, can we start over?”

  “By all means.”

  He grinned, his first real smile since she woke him up at the beach. “Okay. I have to go down to the DA’s office to give a deposition, but it should only take an hour or so. Why don’t you change clothes and I’ll pick you up later. We can go someplace nice for dinner.”

  “Drew, I can’t. I promised Paula I would stay here tonight and monitor the phone.”

  He looked annoyed. “Doesn’t she have an answering machine?”

  Cindy shook her head. “That’s not the point. She’s an assistant manager of the complex, and she’s paid to have a real person on duty to respond to real emergencies.”

  “Then why isn’t she doing it?”

  “She has to work. Come on, Drew, I’m doing her a favor. You can understand that.”

  His expression grudging, he said, “I guess so.” He smiled dryly. “You can see that I don’t like anything to interfere with my plans.” He brightened. “I know. I’ll get some take-out stuff and bring it back here for us.”

  Cindy didn’t reply.

  He read her silence correctly. “No good, huh?” He eyed her intently. “Afraid to be alone with me?”

  “No, Drew, that’s not it. It’s Paula’s place and I don’t think it would be right for me to have company here when she’s not home.”

  Fox rolled his eyes. “You take this Miss Manners thing too seriously, do you know that?”