"You're beautiful," he said, and his voice had thickened.
"No—" And involuntarily she swayed toward him, wanting him to go on touching her as she had never wanted anything before.
"Yes—so beautiful," he repeated dreamily, bending his head, and she felt his mouth moving against her breast, which was just above the water, caressing the tip until it grew taut between his lips.
"Derek…" she gasped weakly, "I think…"
"Don't think," he murmured, lifting his head to gaze into her face. "Just feel." His eyes, shadowed by the thick brows in the moonlight, were dark and deep with mystery.
A sensation of liquid warmth flowered inside her, a fire that was both ecstasy and torment, and her fingers, with a will of their own, slipped over his smooth shoulders and became entangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Those dark mysterious eyes were smoldering as they dwelt on the ripeness of her mouth. His hands slid down her back to her waist, and on to her hips as he pulled her toward him, making her every cell aware of the hardness of the muscles of his stomach and thighs. There was such sensuous delight in the demanding urgency of his body that no power on earth could have stopped her body from pressing against him.
He groaned softly, a sound of anguish, as his mouth sought hers and found her lips parted and without resistance. She loved the feel of his skin against hers, the crisp wet hair on his chest, which was crushed against her breasts.
"Oh, Terri!" he muttered in an agonized voice, drawing back from her for a moment. "I've been going crazy wanting you. I knew if we got away together you would stop fighting me. Terri, I want you… I need you so much…" Then he jerked her tightly against him, his mouth hardening with increasing demand.
Through the daze of her thundering emotions his words penetrated. Want… need… But there had been no mention of love. This was all part of a well-planned campaign. He had brought her here not to work, which they could have done better with the help of Mike and Jack, but to break down her defenses. He had just admitted it, and that was the most painful realization of all. How cold-bloodedly calculating could a man be? To go to such lengths…
The warmth in her body slowly turned to a shaking chill. With a fierce strength, born of despair, she pushed him away. "No! Let me go!" A sob broke through the words.
Perhaps because she took him by surprise, or perhaps because he recognized the desperation in her voice, he released her. Gasping for breath, she climbed out of the pool, heedless now of her nudity.
"Terri, what's wrong?" The words were filled with pain and incredulity.
Her throat had become so thick and tight that she couldn't answer. She merely shook her head and started to run toward the walkway that led from the courtyard in the direction of the guest house. Her bare feet slapped against the smooth paving, and gulping sobs escaped her, harsh racking sounds in the stillness of the night. She reached the gate and, opening it with trembling fingers, flung it back and ran through. She had forgotten about the graveled area near the guest house and was not prepared for the pain that shot through the soles of her feet as they made contact with the small, sharp stones.
Her fleeting body had built up enough momentum to prevent her stopping until she had stumbled several steps onto the gravel. And by that time it was too late to stop herself from losing her balance and pitching forward on her stomach, arms outspread across the gravel.
Tiny needles of pain stabbed her everywhere. She howled in protest and then lay with her face inches from the gravel, and all the rest of the front of her body crushed against sharp projections. She sobbed helplessly, afraid to move for fear any movement would make the pain worse.
Then she felt strong arms around her, lifting her to her feet, wrapping a giant towel around her body. Without a word, Derek picked her up and carried her into the guest house. Still crying silently, she huddled against him, her arms clinging to his neck.
He placed her on the couch and stood looking down at her. He'd put his swimming trunks on but didn't have time to dry himself as rivulets of water trickled down his body.
"Why did you run away from me like that? I wouldn't hurt you."
She shook her head, clutching the thick towel about her, unable to find any words with which to reply.
"Stay right there," he said curtly. "I think I saw a bottle of Mercurochrome in the kitchen cabinet." He left her, and she heard cabinet doors opening and closing. Then he was back with a small bottle of red liquid and a damp wash cloth. "I'll wipe your cuts clean first then use the Mercurochrome. This will sting, but it has to be done so that there won't be any infection."
She clutched the towel tighter, staring up at him.
He sighed heavily. "This is no time for modesty." Then he bent and tugged the towel open, exposing the front of her reclining body. Protestingly, she started to get up, but he pushed her back down. "Don't be difficult, Terri!" There was such steel determination in the tone that she stopped struggling and lay still while he began to touch the tiny applicator to the breaks in her skin made by the gravel. She caught her breath and gritted her teeth against the stinging pain as he moved, grim-mouthed, from one cut to the next until he had covered her with red spots.
Finally, he straightened and looked down at her for a long moment, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe with an expression that was strangely still and remote and impossible to fathom.
She could feel again the sweet intimacy with which he had touched her in the pool, could feel the strong muscles of his back under her hands. A part of her longed to open her arms to him and plead with him to take her back into his warm embrace. But the cold hardness in his eyes made it impossible for her to speak.
Abruptly, he turned away and strode toward the kitchen. "Cover yourself and go to bed," he snapped. "Stay out of my sight until tomorrow. I don't want to look at you anymore tonight."
Shivering and hugging the towel about her, she got her trembling legs beneath her and obeyed.
Chapter Nine
Derek's rejection was like ice water thrown in Terri's face. She stumbled into her bedroom, unable to summon the strength to hunt for another nightgown. Letting the towel drop to the floor, she crawled between the sheets and lay like a lifeless manikin, mindlessly sliding into sleep.
She awoke the next morning physically rested, but as soon as full consciousness returned, a heavy depression descended upon her. She lay, without moving, trying to work up enough interest to shower and dress. But with a devilish insistence, her thoughts returned to the night before—those now dreamlike minutes in the courtyard, and then Derek's dark face, the hard eyes staring at her, a strange, confused expression in them, and finally his hateful words: Stay out of my sight… I don't want to look at you anymore…
She despised him… but she hated herself even more. How could she have been so weak and foolish as to fall in love with an arrogant, conceited brute like Derek? She closed her eyes, remembering how determined she had been to stand up to him those first days in Mexico City. How confident she had been that she could put him in his place, complete this assignment satisfactorily, and return to New York unchanged. She didn't know where she had gone wrong, but it seemed that Derek was now holding all the cards. He had succeeded in making her doubt her professional abilities and he had managed to demonstrate quite effectively just how emotionally ill-equipped she was to deal with a man like him.
Momentarily, she had an impulse to do something rash—anything to shake Derek's monumental self-confidence and unmitigated pride. But what could she do? She had tried playing up to Jack Ledbetter and almost got more than she had bargained for. When she had been friendly to David Almedo, Derek had ordered her not to see him again. She felt hot resentment as she remembered that.
The gall of that man! Well, if she had another chance to see David, she'd show Derek. For a moment she toyed with the idea of contacting David, taking him up on his offer to show her around Mérida. She would have to go to the main house to find a telephone. Could she make the servants understand w
hat she wanted? And suppose she did get to a phone and in touch with the archaeologist—was she sure she could handle a smooth operator like the sophisticated David Almedo? Her lips twisted ironically. So far her score wasn't very high when it came to handling men. Besides, why lie to herself? She didn't really want to be with David Almedo.
Her thoughts went thus, around in circles, for some time. Finally, sighing heavily, she threw back the sheet and went into the bathroom to shower and shampoo. She found her folded nightgown and sandals on top of the clothes hamper. For a moment she stared at them. Sometime last night or early this morning Derek had put them there. He'd been in her bedroom and she hadn't even known it. Had he looked at her, watched her? Had she been covered by the sheet? Not that it mattered all that much. After the incident at the pool, whatever he saw would be rather anticlimactic.
About an hour later, when she came out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a sleeveless red cotton shirt that buttoned all the way to the high round collar, her hair blow-dried and neatly in place, she heard voices coming from the sitting room. Creeping to her bedroom door, she eased it open and stood listening to the two male voices that drifted down the hallway.
Derek was speaking, but she only caught the last few words.
"… Margarite is so happy. She's really quite a woman."
The other man laughed—a sound of agreement—and then said something in such low tones that all Terri heard was, "… fortunate man…"
Then Derek said, "You're right, old friend. Life with Margarite will always be rich and exciting."
Terri stood there, hanging on to the half-open door, and a dizzy feeling swept over her—a vertigo that made the walls in the hallway seem to sway toward each other and then move back again. Jealousy so intense that it made her feel nauseated twisted in her stomach. Derek thought Margarite was "quite a woman," and from the gist of the conversation in the sitting room, he had come to some kind of decision about their relationship. Clearly, he intended to make it more permanent. How else was Terri to interpret his observation that life with the Mexican actress would be rich and exciting? Derek was planning a life with Margarite. She leaned her forehead against the sharp edge of the door, trying to steady herself.
The men were discussing the year's sisal crop now and Terri, managing to get a grip on her tumbling emotions, took a deep breath, stiffened her spine, and walked into the sitting room.
The man who sat on the couch facing Derek appeared to be in his early forties, stockily built and very muscular. His dark hair, unmarked by any hint of gray, was brushed smoothly back from his forehead and grew in deep sideburns down each cheek. With his thick, neatly trimmed mustache and the rugged facial features, he was quite an attractive man and, Terri was certain, when dressed more formally, most distinguished-looking. Now he wore white trousers and shirt with brown riding boots and a brown-and-white figured kerchief knotted jauntily about his neck.
Terri stood in the doorway until Derek looked up and saw her. "Come in, Terri. I want you to meet our host, Salvadore Divila."
The plantation owner was standing, smiling broadly, his teeth flashing white against the dark mustache and tanned face. He came forward and took Terri's hand in a firm grip. "How nice to meet you at last, seňorita. I hope you will accept my humble apologies for not being here to greet you upon your arrival."
Terri found herself smiling into his friendly, open face. "I understand that you were called away unexpectedly."
She could not tell whether the glance he gave Derek had any secret meaning. "I hope you have found everything you need," he said to Terri. "I left explicit instructions with the servants."
Surmising that he was the courtly sort of man who would not be seated while a woman stood, Terri moved to the unoccupied leather chair and sat down. "We have been quite comfortable."
Divila returned to his place on the couch. "I neglected to leave word that you were to use the courtyard and pool if you wished. I hope you have done so." His interested appraisal caught the slight flush on Terri's cheeks at this, as well as the furtive glance she darted in Derek's direction.
"We have been busy working," Terri laid in a strained voice.
Derek, who was slouched in the other chair with one blue-jeaned leg thrown over a leather arm, smiled lazily and said, a taunt in his tone, "We did use the pool once, however, and found it quite—invigorating. Didn't we, Terri?"
Terri felt her cheeks flaming now as she fixed her eyes on Salvadore Divila's face, trying to ignore the cruel mockery in Derek's words. "The pool and the courtyard are lovely, Seňor Divila. You must find a great deal of enjoyment in having access to such beautiful surroundings whenever you wish."
Salvadore Divila's expression showed a trace of regret. "Alas, my business interests keep me to occupied that I am not able to avail myself of those surroundings as often as I would like. Lately I've been trying to arrange things so that I will have more time for relaxation. That was the purpose of my recent trip. I like to work and I confess I do have mixed feelings about these new arrangements I am making."
"I'm certain Terri can empathize with you, Salvadore," Derek said. "She prefers to stick to business herself."
Divila looked from Derek to Terri, a puzzled expression on his face. "Ah, but such a young and beautiful woman must have a full social life," he said, smiling. "If not, I am quite disappointed in the men in your country, Derek. More than that, I despair of their good sense."
"You are very kind," said Terri, lowering her eyes.
"No," Divila insisted, "only honest."
Derek was watching them with an amused curve to his lips. He knows I'm embarrassed, thought Terri, and he's enjoying it! "I overslept this morning," she said hastily. "I'd better go see what I can find for break-fast." She got to her feet. "No, don't get up, Seňor Divila. Would you stay and have breakfast with us?"
"Thank you, seňorita, but no. I have already eaten, and I must get ready to leave again."
Terri had stopped halfway to the kitchen. Now she asked in surprise, "You are going away again soon?"
"A few days from now," Divila confirmed. "I fly to Mexico City."
"You are a busy man," said Terri sympathetically.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "That will change soon—at least to a degree. And this time I shall have charming company for the return trip."
"Oh?" Terri asked with polite interest.
Derek surveyed Terri from his chair. "Salvadore is bringing Margarite back with him."
"Do you know Miss Lopez, seňorita?" Divila inquired.
Feeling a despairing sinking in her stomach, Terri shook her head sharply. "I haven't had the pleasure."
"Oh, but you must have seen her movies," Divila returned.
"I'm afraid I haven't," Terri told him, feeling Derek's eyes on her face. "I—I am sure they are very good, though." Money-making, anyway, she added to herself. Nor did it matter much whether Margarite Lopez's movies were well received. She had Derek, didn't she? To Terri that seemed quite enough for any woman.
Divila chuckled. "Miss Lopez is the most popular film star in Mexico. If she is not the most accomplished actress, as well, that is of little importance to her admirers." He made a dismissing gesture and added, "She is such a bundle of feminine charms that one can overlook small faults. Do you not agree, Derek?"
Derek's laugh blended with Divila's. "I do indeed!"
Terri felt absolutely grungy in her jeans and cotton shirt. "P-please—" She found herself stammering. "Excuse me." She retreated to the kitchen, where she caught hold of the cabinet and willed her thudding heart to slow down. Divila was bringing Margarite back with him! Terri saw everything clearly at last. Divila was going to Mexico City to intervene in Derek's behalf with Margarite Lopez, to smooth out whatever misunderstanding between the two had caused Derek to leave the city so suddenly. She had known that Derek could be heartless, but this was the cruelest thing he could possibly have done. To bring Margarite here—to flaunt their relationship in Terri'
s face! Naturally, Margarite would stay in the guest house—share Derek's bedroom, no doubt. And Terri would have to watch the lovebirds make up! What was she supposed to do meanwhile—photograph the sisal plants?
She heard Salvadore Divila leaving, bidding goodbye to Derek at the door. Then Derek came into the kitchen, where he stood with one shoulder propped against the refrigerator and looked at her.
"What are we having for breakfast?"
Terri turned to stare at him. How could he stand there as if nothing were wrong and ask her a question like that? "I don't know what you are having, Derek. As for me, I suddenly don't feel like eating."
"It's your turn to cook this morning. Don't tell me you aren't going to keep up your end of the bargain." He said this lightly with a twinkle in his eye. Incredibly, it seemed he intended to go on with their activities here as if Margarite Lopez did not exist. Unflappable—that was the only word for him!
"I'm not cooking breakfast!" she flung at him. "So sue me!"
He straightened, his thick brows lowering in an impatient expression. "You're certainly in a foul mood this morning. Your little escapade of last night hasn't made you ill, has it?"
Her anger and resentment had been growing by the second. Now she plopped her hands on her hips and her eyes blazed into his. "Oh, I feel ill, all right! Nauseated, in fact! But last night has nothing to do with it, except that it proved once again what an unfeeling heel you are. And to think you dared to call David Almedo a gigolo!"
His frown was puzzled, uncertain. "What are you raving about? Is all this because I wanted to make love to you last night? Is that a criminal offense?"
She tossed her blond hair, rearranging the shining golden cap into a careless tumble of waves. "Oh, I'm sure it's all in a day's work with you, Derek. The world's greatest lover! Don't you ever get off stage?"
He made a harsh, humorless sound. "Come off it, Terri. Aren't you overreacting a bit? You weren't exactly indifferent to me last night. I know you like to present a chaste, untouchable image, but this is a bit much. Now why don't you cool off and fix breakfast so we can get to work."
Mexican Nights Page 13
