In the Light of Love

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In the Light of Love Page 13

by Deborah Fletcher Mello


  Talisa pressed her palms to Jericho’s bare chest as he eased her back against the mattress, reclining his weight against her. She kissed him hungrily, eager to satiate her sudden appetite. Her sexual experiences had been limited, one brief relationship in college with a man who had promised her the world, and had left her feeling empty when all was said and done. Jericho had promised his heart in exchange for her own, and the overwhelming reality of that suddenly filled her soul beyond reason.

  She wrapped her arms around him, her hands racing the length of his broad back. His flesh was still damp, the rising heat of his body simmering the moisture beneath her palms. Jericho was whispering her name against her skin, blowing promises with every kiss that touched her. Every touch was a sweet caress, feathery lashes against her flesh that made her nerve endings tingle with anticipation.

  Jericho leaned up on his forearms, shifting the bulk of his weight to his arms as he leaned down staring into the depths of her gaze. His heart beat heavily against her own. Her breathing was as strained as his, oxygen fueling their sensual desire. He pulled his hands through her hair, releasing the barrette that held the length of brown silk in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. His face fell into the fresh scent of coconut oil that coated each strand, his lips searching the length of her neck, licking at the lobe of her ear, then falling back to her mouth.

  Pulling at her top, Jericho removed it from her torso as she lifted her arms high above her head. Nothing could have prepared Talisa for the sensation of his hands as they reached to cup her breasts, his palms dancing against the hardened nipples. The sudden feeling of his touch fired energy from the top of her head straight down to her curled toes. When he dipped his head down to take her into his mouth, suckling lightly, it left her breathless. Talisa had barely recovered from the exhilaration when she realized that they were dancing naked against the bedsheets, Jericho in full control as he guided her in an erotic slow drag across the mattress. When he reached for a condom off the small nightstand that sat against the edge of the bed, Talisa was completely lost in the ecstasy, her mind a haven of sensual desire. When she reached to take it from his hand, Jericho pressed his mouth back to her breast, giving in to the sensation of her hands against him as she sheathed him slowly. As Jericho tasted every inch of her body with his own, both savored the enormity of the moment, suddenly aware that they had reached a point of no return. Knowing there would be no turning back for either of them.

  Chapter 16

  Punky was chattering excitedly, his brown fur standing stiff against his neck as his high-pitched shrill filled the early-morning air. Talisa woke with a start as Jericho jumped from the bed, lunging headfirst at the small creature scampering toward the entrance.

  Her gaze fell on Jericho’s naked backside. As he turned around to face her, she inhaled swiftly, gasping at the beauty of the man who had captured her heart. Jericho blushed as she appraised him so wantonly.

  “Sorry,” Jericho said, crawling back onto the bed as he moved to kiss her lips. “I tried to keep him out so he wouldn’t wake you.”

  Talisa pulled back, drawing her fingers to her lips. “I have morning breath,” she said softly, blushing ever so slightly.

  Jericho shrugged, pulling her into his arms. “So do I,” he said, dropping his mouth down to hers and kissing her hard. Talisa kissed him back, her tongue dancing across his lips.

  “Thank you for trying to let me sleep,” she said after lifting her mouth from his.

  Jericho nodded, smiling down at her. She leaned to press a kiss against his chest, drawing a line of wet pecks down the length of his torso. Jericho wrapped himself around her, cradling her nakedness tightly against his own. His body was ultra-sensitive to her touch, the nearness of her heightening all of his senses. He felt as if he were drunk with wanting.

  They lay curled against each other, taking in the rise of sounds filtering in from the outside, both lost in their own thoughts. Talisa had no sense of time, the moment almost too surreal to be believed. She opened her eyes to study the easy curvature of his profile, her finger tracing a line across his brow, down the slight slope of his nose, across the soft tissue of his lips. She inhaled, drawing the scent of him deep into her nostrils, wanting the essence to linger through her spirit. Taking a second deep breath of air, Talisa broke the silence, propping her head against her elbow as she leaned up to speak.

  “I’m feeling very guilty,” she said softly, her gaze meeting his.

  “Why?”

  “Because this isn’t what I came to Africa for.” Talisa bit down against her bottom lip. “The foundation sent me here to assist their students, and here I am, playing honeymoon with an incredible man. I should be out there somewhere, helping to change bandages or something. This wasn’t supposed to be a vacation and I’m not being very responsible.”

  “Aren’t you and your students allowed some personal time to yourselves?”

  “Yes, but—” Her gaze dropped to the floor.

  “Do you regret making love to me?”

  “Not at all, Jericho,” Talisa said, looking back up as she reached to caress the side of his face. “Being with you has been the most incredible experience in my entire life. I have loved every minute you and I have shared.”

  “Then you have nothing to be guilty about. You have more than honored your commitment to your students and your job. You’ve done an amazing job, Talisa. I am so proud of you. And, you deserve this time to yourself. There couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with our being together, sweetheart. We’ve been touched by the light, remember?” The warmth of Jericho’s gaze billowed through her body.

  Talisa reached to kiss him one more time. “Thank you, Jericho,” she whispered softly, allowing her lips to linger lightly against his. “That means a lot to me.”

  Jericho grinned, pulling her down over his torso, his excitement pumping through every muscle in his body. “You’re welcome!” he said, the echo of his voice bouncing around the room and out toward the body of water that kissed the shoreline outside.

  The day’s sun was perched midsky when the pair finally made their way out of the banda. It was a glorious day, the brilliance of sunshine against the cloudless blue sky shining as brightly as the light that cascaded from Jericho’s eyes. They were strolling the shore locked arm in arm when a young man hurried excitedly in their direction, calling out to them with a lyrical accent that rang like music through the air. His words were a mix of English and his native tongue, the words “doctor, doctor” ringing clearly in the wind.

  As the man reached their side, both sensed his urgency as he introduced himself quickly, insisting that they both hurry to follow him. The man’s gaze lingered for just a brief minute on Talisa’s face before turning toward Jericho’s intense stare, and then he turned, gesturing for them to follow.

  “What’s wrong, Jericho?”

  “We need to get back to the orphanage. Something has happened and they need a doctor.”

  Without uttering another word, both Jericho and Talisa raced down the beach to gather their belongings, following the lead the man called Bongo had taken.

  The boat ride back to Entebbe took no time at all and Peter stood waiting for them at the pier. His smile was warming, but worry had creased the lines across his forehead, and both Jericho and Talisa could sense that all was not well. Bongo shook Jericho’s hand before waving goodbye as he turned his boat back toward the islands.

  The man leaned to hug Talisa warmly. “Welcome back, Talisa. Did you enjoy your stay on Sese?”

  Talisa smiled. “I did, Peter. But what’s wrong. What’s happened? Are my kids okay?”

  Peter nodded his head. “The students are all well,” he said as he dropped their bags into the back of the car and lifted himself into the driver’s seat.

  “There’s nothing wrong with Angela is there?” Jericho asked, his own concern rising in his voice.

  “No, my friend. My wife is well also.” Peter took a deep breath then explained what had happe
ned, his words darkening the good mood the lovers had arrived with. “We hated to have to send for you,” Peter concluded, nodding his head at one and then the other.

  “We understand completely,” Talisa said from the back seat, dropping her palm against the man’s shoulder. “I would have been upset if you didn’t call for Jericho.”

  “So, have the refugees started arriving yet?” Jericho asked.

  Peter shook his head. “No. We are going to have to go to them. There is a hospital in Gulu that needs us. The children are marching in every day for help. They go there to sleep at night to hide from the rebels and then they walk back home in the mornings. Food is scarce and many of them are very sick.”

  Jericho nodded as concern washed over Talisa’s expression. “Is it safe in Gulu with the rebels so close?” she asked.

  Peter heaved a deep sigh. “I will not ask you or any of the Wesley students to help us, Talisa. There is more than enough for you to do here.”

  “But I want to help, Peter.”

  “He’s right, Talisa. It’s probably better that you stay here.”

  “I’m going, Jericho.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am and you don’t have anything to say about it,” Talisa said firmly, sliding back against the seat, her arms crossed over her chest. Defiance clouded her expression.

  Peter chuckled softly. “I see you have met your match, Dr. Becton. This one sounds much like my wife.”

  Jericho looked over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Talisa’s. The look on her face was stern, resolve dancing in her eyes. For a quick moment they locked eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them. There was nothing he could say or do to change her mind. Talisa was as committed as he was to do whatever was required to help those in need. If he chose to fight her decision it would be a battle he would surely lose. When she smiled, a slight bend to her lips, he could only smile back, silence his only response as Peter sat laughing at his side.

  Chapter 17

  “There really is nothing wrong with me,” Mary exclaimed for the umpteenth time, her words seeming to fall on deaf ears.

  The doctor in attendance only nodded his graying head slowly, continuing the exam that he had already started.

  “Your blood pressure is exceptionally high, Mary. That’s a cause for concern. How is your diet?”

  “I eat just fine. There is nothing wrong with me.”

  “Your husband seems to think you may be under a great deal of stress. Has something happened lately to upset you?”

  Thoughts of her daughter crossed her mind, but Mary shook them from her head, her jaw setting in a tight line that pinched her face awkwardly. “No,” she said, her tone rising defensively. “Like I said before, everything is just fine.”

  The doctor spun around in his seat, scribbling notes into the file of medical records imprinted with Mary London’s name.

  Mary had just about had enough as she scooted her body to the edge of the examining table. Her gaze met the man’s as he turned back to stare at her.

  “I’d like to run some further tests, Mary.”

  “What kind of tests?”

  “Just some blood work, nothing too uncomfortable. I’d also like you to go see an associate of mine. Her name is Dr. Wentworth. She’s a psychiatrist.”

  “A head doctor! I don’t need to see no head doctor!” Mary said, beginning to shout.

  Her physician held up his hand to calm her, his palm dropping heavily against her forearm. “I just want you to talk to her one time. We need to get some additional information to know how to help you and Dr. Wentworth has the qualifications to do that.”

  “I’m not crazy!” Mary professed, ire rising in her gaze.

  The man shook his head. Patience glimmered in his pale green eyes, his tone even and controlled. “No one is saying that, Mary. Not at all. I just think it’s important that we run all the tests we can to make sure there is nothing wrong with you. I think that’s the smart thing for us to do. Don’t you agree?”

  Mary studied his expression, her own pensive stare reflecting her thoughts as she weighed all her options. “Fine,” she said matter-of-factly. “If it will get my husband to leave me alone, then I’ll do it. But once you see that there is nothing wrong with me, you need to tell him to just leave me alone.”

  The doctor smiled, patting her arm gently. “I promise I’ll do just that, Mary. As soon as we have some answers.”

  Mary paced her kitchen floor, wearing a thin path against the aged linoleum. There was something she needed to do but for the life of her she couldn’t begin to remember what it was. Herman’s foolishness with the doctor had her out of sorts and the confusion of it all had seeped into the cavity of her mind like water into a sponge.

  From where he sat on the living room sofa, Herman could sense the sudden shift in his wife’s mood and he felt the muscles tense throughout his body. “What’s wrong, Mama? You seem upset.”

  Mary twisted her fingers anxiously, still pacing from one side of the room to the other. She said nothing, not even bothering to acknowledge his question with a quick glance.

  The man repeated himself. “Mary? What’s the matter?”

  Mary stopped short, suddenly looking up to meet her husband’s stare. Her gaze was questioning, confusion wafting over her face.

  “Are you all right?” he asked again, sliding forward in his seat.

  “I’m fine. I forgot…”

  “What, Mary? What did you forget?”

  Mary smiled, chuckling softly as she shook her head from side to side. “Heavens me,” she said with a light laugh. “I swear, Daddy, I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”

  Herman smiled a faint smile, his lips bending upward unconsciously. Mary suddenly reached for her purse and the car keys.

  “I have to run an errand, Herman. I don’t know what I was thinking. You and that doctor done messed with my head today. I’m about to forget what I’m supposed to be doing.”

  The man rose to his feet. “Do you want me to come with you, Mary? I can drive you wherever you want to go.”

  Mary flipped her hand in his direction. “I’m not feeble, Herman London. Ain’t nothing wrong with me. I should be back in a while. We’re having fish for dinner. Thought I’d make you some hush puppies and coleslaw to go along with some fried catfish.”

  “That sounds good, Mama,” he said softly, watching as she rushed out of the front door, waving casually toward the window as he stood staring out at her. Herman heaved a deep sigh, air filling his lungs, and nervous energy suddenly flooded through his body.

  She had expected the rear entrance into the Wesley Foundation to be locked, but the door was open, a clear invitation that everyone was welcome, no matter what the hour. Stepping inside the air-conditioned building, her arrival was greeted with a gust of cool air that felt as if it was pushing the afternoon heat back to where she’d just come from. As she made her way down the length of narrow corridor, she was anticipating someone or something to jump out and stop her but with each step it was as if there was no one else present in the building.

  She stopped at the entrance to the sanctuary, easing her head in first to look around. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, filtering streams of light across the vibrant red carpet and massive oak pews. A single podium rested on the altar, an open Bible covering the wooden tabletop. From the balcony above her, someone was practicing on the large pipe organ, the mesmerizing sound filling the open air around her.

  Dropping into a rear pew, Mary closed her eyes and inhaled the beauty of the moment, relishing the sense of peace that overcame her. Her moment of reverie was interrupted by the call of her name resounding through the room.

  “Mary London! How are you?”

  Mary looked up to find Reverend Warren smiling down at her. “Reverend, how are you?” she responded, extending her hand to shake his.

  “Please, call me Edward. You know we only stand on so much formality around here.�
�� He dropped down into the pew beside her. “So, what brings you over to see us today?”

  “My Talisa, Reverend. She needs your prayers. My Talisa is in serious trouble.”

  The man’s stare was perplexed as he twisted his body around to face her, cocking his head slightly to the side. “I don’t understand, Mary. The mission trip is going exceptionally well. I’ve gotten glowing reports from the team and they tell me Talisa is doing a wonderful job. Has something happened I don’t know about?”

  Mary nodded her head slowly. “She has you all fooled, Reverend. But it’s not her fault. Satan is working to ruin my baby girl.”

  “Tell me what’s going on, Mary,” he said, suddenly sensing that he needed to tread carefully. The woman before him was shaking, her face contorted with anger, a sudden rage that seemed to swell from her eyes into the room. The minister studied the woman carefully, cautiously assessing the situation before him as she told him what was weighing heavily on her spirit.

  “He’s the devil, Reverend. I cannot allow that evil into my house. I have tried to make Talisa understand that he is no good for her. He’s working his devilment on her there in Africa and we need to pray for her. You need to bring Talisa home.”

  Reverend Warren reached to take Mary’s hand into his own. “Why don’t we pray together, Mary,” he said softly. “Talisa can never have too much prayer in her life.”

  “Then you understand why Talisa needs to come home right away?”

  The man smiled sweetly. “Talisa will be home very soon and I’m sure that you’ll feel much better then. We’re going to pray for her safe travels and for everyone and everything in her life. Will that make you feel better?”

  Mary returned his smile. “We’ll beat this evil, Reverend. Your prayers will help me save my child.”

  An hour later, Mary sat in the student lounge laughing with Johanna and Stevie as if all were well in her world. Reverend Warren stood in the doorway of his office watching them as they shared family tales and Mary caught up on the students’ many antics. This was the Mary London that he and his staff had come to know so well, the Mary London who was adored by her only daughter. The woman he had sat with in the sanctuary had been a stranger to him, her bizarre obsession about her daughter a definite cause for some concern. Turning an about-face, he eased the door closed behind him, taking a seat in the leather chair behind his desk. Reaching for the telephone, he dialed Talisa London’s home and waited for the young woman’s father to pick up the line.

 

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