Reckless Moon

by Doreen Owens Malek

  She poured a glass of orange juice from the jug in the refrigerator. She was standing with the gin bottle in her hand, wondering how much liquor to add, when a masculine voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “Aren’t you a little young to be on the sauce?”

  Beth jumped, almost dropping the liquor. Bram Curtis stood in the doorway, lounging against the jamb, grinning at her.

  “It’s for my father,” she answered guiltily.

  “A likely story,” he replied, laughing.

  “I don’t drink,” she protested.

  “Good for you, Beth. It is Beth, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Short for Elizabeth?”

  “Bethany.”

  “Bethany,” he repeated, trying it out on his tongue. “Very pretty, like its owner. You must be driving all those adolescent males out of their minds.”

  Beth flushed. It was the sort of remark many people made, but the way he said it carried an implication beyond the compliment She could see immediately why he unnerved Marion. But Beth was not her sister; what intimidated the older girl intrigued the younger. Beth moved closer, looking at him.

  “I seem to remember a first grader who was never seen without a mangy mutt with a scraggly gray tail, and a giant lollipop,” Bram said. “I must say you’ve made a splendid progression from all day suckers.”

  “The dog was Alcatraz,” Beth replied. “He went into convulsions last winter and we had to put him to sleep.”

  Bram’s dark eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry,” he said “That must have been very hard for you.”

  Why, he’s nice, Beth thought suddenly. She felt a surge of confidence. “It was,” she replied. “I had him since I was two.”

  Bram came into the kitchen and took the glass from Beth’s hand. “Why don’t we forget this, and you can come and talk to me. Tell me all about high school. I have a burning desire to relive the days of my misspent youth.”

  Beth giggled. He was a wonderful talker; it was a treat to listen to him.

  “Okay,” she agreed eagerly, even though she suspected his idea had more to do with keeping her away from the gin than his curiosity about her life. But one look into his liquid brown eyes convinced her that it didn’t matter; she wanted to be with him, and that was it.

  “Where shall we go?” he asked, looking around.

  “My father’s study?”

  He made a sweeping gesture with his glass. “Lead on, fair lady.”

  Bram followed Beth down the hall to the den while she wondered why he was choosing to spend time with her. Surely he had better things to do. Then he smiled down at her as she opened the door, and she ceased to care whether he was trying to maintain her sobriety or gathering material for an expose on her nonexistent love life. She shut the door after them and sat down.

  “Now,” he said, “what’s new at Suffield High?”

  He was sitting in her father’s leather chair, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. The overhead lighting cast shadows along the planes of his face and emphasized his high cheekbones. His black hair curled over his forehead and down to the nape of his neck. His eyelashes were long, sweeping his lower lids when he glanced down. Dark hair grew along his forearms and escaped from the opening of his shirt at the neck. He smiled, and his teeth shone white against his dusky skin. Beth swallowed. She had never seen a man like this one; he looked like an oil painting of a sixteenth century explorer, or the carving on a Medici tomb.

  “You’re staring at me,” he admonished softly.

  “Sorry,” Beth mumbled, mortified. “My father told me about you, and I guess I’m curious.”

  “Uh-oh,” he said, swirling the ice in his glass. “Don’t tell me that my deplorable reputation has preceded me. You know who I am, then?”

  Beth nodded. “And I’ve heard something about the misspent youth you mentioned.”

  His eyes roamed the walls. “I was hoping to remain anonymous a little longer. I didn’t want to frighten you away.”

  “I’m not frightened,” Beth said quickly.

  He smiled slightly. “I see that you’re not. Anyway, don’t believe everything you hear.”

  “My father didn’t say anything bad about you. He just said you couldn’t get along with your stepmother and that it had made you a wanderer on the face of the earth.”

  Bram thought that over. “It always amazes me that I find support in the most unlikely places,” he said musingly.

  “I remember my mother told me that when they threw you off the football team you punched the coach and knocked him out cold.”

  He looked at the ceiling. “That,” he said gravely, “was not my finest hour.”

  “It made sense to me,” Beth replied fervently. “I’ve wanted to deck my gym teacher plenty of times.”

  He shook his head. “You look too smart to indulge in that kind of childish behavior. I was full of pain in those days, or even I wouldn’t have done something so immature.”

  “Why were you full of pain?” Beth asked ingenuously.

  He looked sharply at her. “You have quite a facility for getting me to talk. I thought the subject was going to be you.”

  “Dull subject,” Beth said gloomily.

  “I disagree. What have you been up to at school?”

  She thought about it. “I was a mouse in the school musical last year,” she offered.

  He looked startled. “A mouse?”

  “Yeah, in the Nutcracker Suite. I was in the mouse chorus in the scene around the Christmas tree. I was one of the dancing mice.”

  He grinned. “Someone must have made a mistake. You’re much too vivid to be cast as a mouse.”

  “And I won the Latin prize last June,” Beth added.

  “What did you win?”

  “A framed certificate and a Latin dictionary,” she said unhappily.

  “Not exactly what you had in mind?” he suggested.

  “No,” she admitted. She brightened. “Would you like to hear some Latin?”

  “Hit me,” he said, draining his glass.

  “‘In hoc signo vinces,’” she recited.

  “Very impressive. What does it mean?”

  “‘In this sign thou shalt conquer.’ The Emperor Constantine saw it written in the sky with a cross on the night before his big battle, I forget what it was. Do you want to hear some more?”

  “By all means. Toss me another one.”

  “‘Dulce et decorum est pro…’”

  “‘patria mori,’” Bram finished for her.

  “You know it?” Beth asked, delighted. “You know Latin?”

  “No, but I read. I read a lot. You spend quite a bit of time alone on a ship, and it passes the hours. That means, as I recall, ‘It is a sweet and beautiful thing to die for one’s country.’”

  “Right!” Beth said, pleased.

  Bram got up and poured several fingers of liquor into his glass from the bottle Beth’s father kept on his desk. “Do you think he’ll mind?” he asked Beth.

  “No, go ahead,” she said, watching Bram. He seemed to be drinking a lot.

  He sat again. “Go on, go on,” he said, waving his hand. “Tell me more.”

  Beth didn’t need much encouragement. She launched into a spirited monologue about her life and times, which soon had him laughing and offering amusing comments. They talked until Bram caught Beth glancing at the clock on the wall. They’d been in the den for three hours!

  Bram rose. “I’m keeping you from your guests,” he said quickly. “I mustn’t be so selfish.” He moved to leave.

  Beth jumped up, too. “No, don’t go,” she said anxiously. “Please stay with me.”

  He halted, looking at her with a measuring glance. “All right,” he agreed. “But let me get you something to eat. I’ve had you in here all night.”

  “Fine,” she replied, ready to agree to anything that would keep him with her.

  “What would you like?” he asked.

  Anything, anythin
g. “A hot dog, I guess; I can smell them cooking. And a drink.”

  “Coming up,” he said, heading for the door.

  “You’ll come back?” she asked worriedly.

  “Of course,” he replied gently. “In a flash. Don’t let anybody take my place.”

  As if anyone could, Beth thought. She followed him into the hall, fidgeting, and ran into Mindy Crawford, her best friend.

  “Where have you been?” Mindy asked. “Jim has been looking all over for you.”

  “Mindy, don’t tell him you’ve seen me. I’m hoping he’ll just go home.”

  “What’s going on? This place isn’t that big; you can’t dodge him forever.”

  “Tell him I felt sick and went to bed.”

  “Beth! You can’t do that. We’re in your house. You’re the hostess.”

  “My father is the host. I’m the pain-in-the-neck kid.”

  Mindy opened her mouth to speak, and then stopped at the sound of Jim’s voice behind them. Beth slipped back into the den, but it was too late. He’d seen her, and Mindy shot her a sympathetic glance as she left.

  “I thought you’d taken off,” Jim greeted her.

  “I’ve been around,” Beth said evenly.

  “Have you been avoiding me?” he asked belligerently.

  “I can’t help it if you think so,” Beth said, turning away.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Jim said, grabbing her arm. “What’s this disappearing act? You’re supposed to be my girl.”

  “Only in your mind,” Beth replied stiffly. He was still holding her, and as she tried to shrug free he tightened his grip.

  “Let me go,” she said fiercely.

  “So you can vanish again? I will not. You’ve been acting pretty weird lately, Beth, and I think I deserve an explanation.”

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Let me go!”

  Jim’s hand enclosed her arm like a vise. Tears sprang to her eyes. He was stronger than he looked. She struggled silently.

  “Back off, sonny,” Bram’s voice said behind them.

  Jim spun around. “Who are you?”

  “Does it matter?” Bram said pleasantly. “I’m the guy who’s telling you to let her go, and I’m bigger than you are.”

  Jim released Beth, shooting her a furious glance. He brushed past Bram, heading for the sliding doors to the patio.

  Bram pushed open the study door with his shoulder and set the plate and glass he was carrying on the desk. “Friend of yours?” he asked mildly.

  “He’s a pest,” Beth replied, rubbing her arm. Her face was white with shock.

  Bram noticed her expression. “Hey, take it easy. Did he rattle you?”

  Beth blinked rapidly. “I guess so. He was really hurting me.”

  Bram opened his arms. “Come here, mouse. Erase that memory with me.”

  Beth ran to him, snuggling against his broad chest. He held her tightly, smoothing her hair.

  “Better?” he asked gently.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He moved to let her go, and she clung. “Hold me,” she begged. “Just a little longer.”

  He complied, enfolding her again. Beth closed her eyes and relaxed against him. She had never been held by a man, only by inexperienced boys who grabbed her awkwardly and didn’t know where to put their hands. Bram held her easily, with the confidence of long practice.

  “Look at that moon,” Beth murmured dreamily, seeing it through the window over his shoulder. “When it’s full like that you can see all the craters.”

  “That’s a reckless moon,” Bram said, a smile in his voice. “That’s what an old sea dog I shipped out with once used to call it. A moon like that makes you do things you wouldn’t do otherwise. It makes you foolish.”

  Beth sighed, burrowing into his shoulder. He smelled good, clean and fresh, an impression enhanced by the starch in his shirt. His body was hard and firm where she touched him. She felt languid, dreamy, but had a heightened awareness of Bram’s maleness at the same time.

  “Come on, mousie,” Bram said, holding her at arm’s length. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Beth said, looking up at him.

  As he gazed down at her, his expression seemed to change. The amusement left his face and was replaced by a dawning realization of their closeness, and her response to him. Slowly, he bent and pressed his lips to hers.

  Beth kissed him back eagerly, unsure of what she was doing, but guided by a rush of desire such as she had never felt before in her life. Bram had meant to kiss her briefly, sweetly, but when he felt her lips opening under his, her slender, curved body pressing into him, he forgot her age, her father, and everything else. This was a lovely woman who wanted him, and he was not used to declining such invitations.

  Beth wound her arms around his neck, afraid that he might pull away at any second. She knew instinctively that the way to hold him was to carry him into deep waters fast, where he would be too involved to break the embrace. She grew bolder, caressing him, and his gasp of pleasure was her reward.

  “Baby, you don’t know what you’re doing,” he whispered hoarsely, lifting his mouth from hers.

  “Teach me,” she responded. “Teach me everything I need to know.”

  He groaned and pulled at the collar of her terry robe. As he kissed her neck and exposed shoulder, Beth could smell the liquor on his breath, faint and acerbic. He wouldn’t make love to me if he were cold sober, she thought fleetingly, and then pushed the idea away. She didn’t care. He was the most exciting man she’d ever met, and his kisses drove the sloppy pawings of her high school beaux from her mind.

  His mouth returned to hers, urgently, and he bent to pick her up, carrying her the few steps to the divan near the door. He set her down gently and then dropped next to her, cradling her against him. Beth lay back and watched him, silently, as he unbelted her short terry robe and discarded it, moving immediately to kiss her breasts, covered only by the bra top of her bathing suit. His lips traveled over the soft flesh, and Beth arched her back, whimpering and holding his head, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. When he reached for the catch at the back of her top, she lifted herself to accommodate him. He pulled it from her and dropped it on the floor.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful.” He gathered her to him, pressing his mouth to the valley between her breasts, where Beth had never felt the touch of a man’s lips. She sighed and closed her eyes. He moved, teasing first one nipple and then the other with his tongue. Beth shuddered delicately, unable to look, unable to speak, certain only that she wanted this miracle to continue.

  Bram sat up, undoing his shirt quickly with one hand, impatiently. He pulled it off with a single swift gesture, and he was back with her in a second, descending to Beth’s welcoming arms.

  The shock of his bare flesh excited her, and Beth kissed his chest, running her hands over his smooth shoulders, lifting her mouth for the return of his. She thought he wouldn’t stop now; he was sure, purposeful, accustomed to carrying these preliminaries to their logical conclusion. But when he reached for her briefs, he seemed to step back for a moment and realize what was happening.

  “I can’t do this,” he muttered, withdrawing his hand. “It isn’t right.”

  Beth pressed his big hand with her small one, clinging to him. “Yes, it is,” she protested. “I’ve never felt this way before, Bram. This is what all the songs and poems are about. It must be right.”

  Bram’s face shadowed with concern. “Wait, Beth, listen to me...”

  Beth answered him with a kiss, showing him what she’d learned in his arms, and his scruples vanished in the heat of renewed passion. “I’ll lock the door,” he murmured against her mouth, and at the same instant the door opened and Beth’s father walked through it.

  Beth would never forget the look on his face as he took in the two of them prone on the couch, half naked, their discarded clothes in a heap on the floor. Carter Forsyth’s eyes wide
ned with shock. Then he assumed a carefully blank expression and turned his back.

  “Bethany, dress yourself,” he directed in a quiet voice.

  Bram leaped to his feet, handing Beth her robe and placing himself between her and her father, as if to protect her from attack. “This isn’t Beth’s fault, sir,” he said quickly. “I’m responsible.”

  Beth’s father turned back to face them. “I know that,” he said coldly to Bram. “But my daughter had to offer you some encouragement. This situation doesn’t look like rape to me.”

  “Wait,” Bram began, but Beth’s father held up his hand to forestall argument. Beth, belting her robe, could see Bram decide that he would only make the situation worse by contradicting Carter Forsyth.

  “I want you to leave this house,” Beth’s father said to Bram. “I am bitterly disappointed in you, Curtis. I invited you here, and this is how you take advantage of my hospitality. It seems that my late wife’s affection for you was misplaced. I never put much stock in what was said about you, but it now appears that I should have listened.”

  “Daddy, that isn’t fair,” Beth protested, but Bram reached back to squeeze her arm, silencing her.

  “I’ll go,” Bram said to her father, his mouth tight with some unnamed emotion. “But I want to talk to Beth first. Alone.”

  “Absolutely not,” Carter fumed, reddening.

  “I insist,” Bram said in a low tone that indicated he meant it.

  Carter blinked, and then, to Beth’s amazement, nodded. She had never seen him back down to anyone before.

  “I’ll be right outside the door,” he said to Beth in parting.

  Bram turned to Beth immediately and enfolded her in his arms.

  “Mouse, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.”

  Beth burrowed into him, drawing sustenance from his strength.

  “Beth, listen to me,” he went on. “You are not to blame for this. I led you into it. I should be shot for putting you in this position.”

  Beth didn’t answer, her horror at her father’s reaction fading in the warmth and security of Bram’s embrace.