The Unknown Woman

by Laurie Paige

  The world felt normal once more. The old queen could sure give a person the willies.

  Near the edge of the trees, the path split, and Matt spotted a familiar light by the road. Their driver had returned as promised. The old woman took the path leading back among the trees.

  “This way,” the younger one said, guiding them toward the taxi.

  “Did you know Patti?’ Kerry asked her. “She was also Queen Patrice.”

  “Yes. She was my friend.” She was silent for a moment. “Do you know how she died?”

  “Not yet—the authorities will do an autopsy,” Kerry said. “There seems to be no family.”

  Matt studied the young voodoo queen as she paused and gazed at Kerry. She was unusually still for a moment.

  “May I read your fortune?” she asked.

  Kerry’s shoulders stiffened. “It isn’t necessary. Patti did that yesterday.”

  The darkly outlined eyes looked from Kerry to Matt. “Sorrow lies in your path,” she said softly.

  “The shining path?” Kerry questioned. “I know about that.”

  The young queen ignored her. “Patti sometimes spoke of a plantation where she was raised. Cordon Rouge was its name. On Bayou Rouge. The museum may know more.”

  With that, she turned and disappeared into the trees, the flicker of the small flashlight the only sign of her progress. Matt and Kerry were left standing in the dark.

  “Well,” he said, “looks like we’re on our own.”

  “The path is fairly straight from here to the road,” Kerry told him. She hurried forward.

  He caught her hand and walked beside her. The trail broadened, but still Matt felt foolishly protective of the petite woman who held his hand as if she were comforted by his touch.

  “What did you think?” the cabbie asked. He flicked away a cigarette and opened the door for them. “Did you find the ceremony interesting?”

  “Very,” Kerry said.

  As they drove back to the hotel, Matt relaxed, realizing that he’d been tense for the past two hours.

  “The old queen can be very haughty at times,” the driver said. “I’ve known her to send away folks if she doesn’t like them. Tourists get angry when that happens, but it isn’t their call.”

  “Maybe they don’t understand the ceremony isn’t a show put on for their benefit,” Kerry suggested.

  “You got that right,” the man said.

  When she slid her hand from his, Matt resisted an urge to slip his arm around her shoulders and hold her close.

  They lapsed into silence for the remainder of the trip, which seemed shorter on the return leg. At the hotel, Matt said, “I’m hungry. I’ve heard the chef here makes outstanding desserts. Shall we try a couple?”

  Her smile almost caused his lungs to squeeze shut. “Dessert sounds wonderful. We didn’t eat a lot at dinner,” she reminded him.

  “I hope they don’t put peppers in the pies,” he grumbled good-naturedly.

  They laughed as they entered the restaurant. After they’d ordered decaffeinated coffee and asked for the dessert menu, Matt was pleased to see the smile linger on Kerry’s expressive face as she looked around.

  “The hotel is quieter tonight,” she said. “I wonder if word got around about…everything.”

  “I suspect it has. This afternoon when I returned from the wine tasting I saw more people checking out. Some of them were probably scheduled to leave, but one couple said they’d cut their trip short because of all the weird things the night before. Their room was vandalized, too.”

  She nodded. “Having the generator fail in a major blackout reflects badly on the hotel. And then…then Patti.”

  “It was a strange first night in New Orleans,” he concluded, echoing her solemn tone. “But there were a couple of good things, too.”

  She glanced at him in question.

  “I met a lovely and helpful woman,” he said, his voice going husky. “That was a plus. We saw an interesting ceremony tonight and I’m sure glad I had company for that.”

  Her expression brightened. “Me, too. I think I would have been frightened if I’d been alone.”

  The look in her eyes made him feel like a hero. He picked up the menu. “Let’s check the desserts out. Maybe we should order one of everything.”

  “No way. We’d be on a sugar high until dawn.” She quickly scanned the dessert list. “Oh my. Check out Chef Remy’s specials.”

  Matt read over the listings on the menu. Remy Marchand, who had died in a car accident several years ago, had invented a dessert for each of his four daughters.

  “Crème brûlée à la Charlotte, made with bourbon and a praline topping,” he read aloud. “That’s the hotel manager’s name—Charlotte Marchand, the woman we met last night.”

  “Neapolitan pour Sylvie,” Kerry took up the recitation, “three kinds of ice cream with a drizzle of white and dark chocolate on top and an almond tuile cookie on the side.”

  “Pavlova Renee is a frozen meringue filled with warm raspberry-peach sauce, served with Chantilly cream and fresh raspberries. Man, that sounds great. I ate pavlova every place we had dinner in Australia when my family took a vacation there. That was years ago,” he added at the thoughtful glance Kerry gave him.

  “Wait till you hear this one,” she said with a teasing grin. “Piquante Melanie. A molten chocolate brownie on a bed of sweet cream and laced with the slightest touch of chili peppers.”

  They burst into spontaneous laughter. Kerry fanned her mouth with her hand as she had at the Cajun restaurant when her tongue was burning from the spicy food.

  Matt caught the envious glance of a couple of men at a nearby table. Instinctively he lifted his hand to lay it over Kerry’s, a gesture that would tell the men this woman was his, then stopped himself in time.

  Back off, he warned his libido, suppressing the possessive urges he kept experiencing around her.

  “Okay, that’s the one for me,” he told her, “Piquante Melanie. Definitely.”

  She sighed. “I want some of each.”

  When the waiter came back, Matt asked, “Would it be possible to get a sample of each of Chef Remy’s specials? They all sound so delicious, we can’t decide.”

  “Of course.”

  “And a glass of milk, please,” Kerry requested.

  The waiter nodded. “You, too, sir?”

  “Why not?” Matt said, as if drinking milk at midnight was a daring feat, which caused Kerry to laugh.

  When they were alone, Kerry explained that her grandparents had run a dairy farm and she’d grown up drinking milk at every meal. “It just seems to go with dessert.”

  He thought of the five-course dinners, a different wine served with each course, that were typical for formal occasions with his family. Otherwise meals had often been trays for him and his sister in their shared sitting room. Their parents would either be out for the evening, or ensconced in their suites, preferring to be alone rather than with their children, or even each other.

  Forcing the memory from his mind, he studied Kerry. It sounded old-fashioned to say she was wholesome, but that was the term that came to mind and lingered—Kerry was “whole” in mind and spirit, loving and caring toward others, yet with an appealing independence and spunkiness he liked.

  The squeezing sensation attacked his chest again. He tried to figure out why, and knew it had something to do with Kerry.

  “Look at that!” she said suddenly. “It’s a work of art. I’m not sure we should eat it.”

  The waiter grinned as he placed a huge platter in the center of the table. Each dessert sample had its own plate or crystal bowl. Flowers, fruit and fresh water-cress decorated the platter.

  “You must taste each one,” he told them, arranging dessert plates and silverware before them, “and give me your opinion on the best.”

  “We will,” she promised, picking up the fork.

  After the server placed glasses of milk on the table and refilled their coffee cups, he left t
hem with an admonition to “enjoy!”

  “How can we help but enjoy?” she said. “Which do you want to start with?”

  “Maybe the spicy one? Or should we save it for last, the pièce de résistance?”

  “Let’s see how hot it is,” she suggested wryly.

  “You first.” Matt broke off a piece of the brownie with his fork, raked it through the thick layer of cream and held it out to Kerry. With a grin, he dared her to taste it.

  She bravely took the bite, chewed thoughtfully, then pronounced it one of the best things she’d ever eaten.

  Matt found himself staring at her lips as she licked the cream off. He had to swallow hard before he could take a bite of the treat. He could only imagine how creamy and chocolaty her lips would taste right at that moment.

  They dispensed with the formality of dessert plates and ate directly from the platter. They tasted each item, argued over which was the very best, couldn’t decide, then had to taste everything all over again.

  Shortly after midnight, they headed for their suites, leaving half of each dessert uneaten, but not because they hadn’t tried. “I am so full,” she told him as they crossed the courtyard. “Maybe we should swim laps to work off the calories.”

  He looked her over. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

  She gave him a startled, then pleased glance.

  After opening the gate to her patio, he followed her inside, meaning only to make sure she was safe in her room before leaving her.

  “Thank you for going to the ceremony,” she said as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  The night-light disclosed the turned-down bed, a frilly paper cup of mints and chocolates on the pillow.

  The pleasure-pain of hot and immediate desire plunged through Matt. He wanted to lift her into his arms, kick the door shut and stay in that room—in that bed—with her for about a week, maybe two.

  “I know this is too soon…” he murmured, his voice dropping to a deep, sensual level as he took her into his arms.

  Her perfectly shaped mouth rounded in surprise, but she didn’t pull away.

  Unless she said or indicated a definite no, he knew he wouldn’t stop. He had to have one taste. Her lips had tempted him almost beyond control with each bite of the luscious desserts they’d shared.

  And then he couldn’t think further.

  Her mouth was warm. It tasted of chocolate and cream and the rich roasted flavor of expensive coffee. She was exquisite, a perfect fit in his arms. He gathered her closer, then simply lifted her off her feet so he could experience every lovely curve of her petite frame.

  Hearing laughter out in the courtyard, he stepped deeper into the shadows of a potted tree, its branches arching over them like an umbrella of privacy.

  She made a little keening sound, so he took the kiss deeper, invading her mouth with his tongue, searching out the sweet nectar of her. When she responded, a tad hesitant at first, then giving more…and more…he had to fight the urge to move inside to find comfort and delight in that big bed.

  His leg touched something solid. A bench. He sat down on it, Kerry in his lap, a hand on his chest.

  Matt wanted to rip his shirt off so she could touch his bare skin. He caressed her back, her side, then filled his palm with her perfectly shaped breast. Bliss, he thought through the red, smoky haze of increasing hunger. “Kerry,” he murmured.

  She stiffened and went absolutely still. “I think…perhaps…it’s late,” she said in a shaken tone.

  He immediately released her and set her on her feet. “You’re right. I should go.” He paused, hoping she would contradict him, but knew she wasn’t going to. “Good night, Kerry. It was a very interesting evening.”

  “Yes, I had a lovely time,” she said, managing to sound both sincere yet stiffly polite.

  As soon as she was inside her room, he closed the door, heard the lock fall into place and hurried next door.

  Glancing around his own room, he noticed all was blessedly normal—no strange woman in his bed, no clothing or furniture disturbed, the light of the table lamp softly welcoming.

  “And no Kerry,” he muttered, surprising himself. He’d known her one day and he missed her already?

  Get real.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  KERRY YAWNED, then took another sip of hot coffee. It was seven o’clock. She’d been awake since six. Her mind seemed fuzzy, yet filled with details of the previous evening—specifically the kiss.

  When Matt kissed her, she’d nearly lost control. Odd behavior for her. But even stranger was that, after going into her room, she wished she hadn’t stiffened up.

  She had to laugh at herself. Most people regretted acting impulsively. She regretted that instant of hesitation.

  Mentally shaking her head at the thought, she could almost hear the cackle of knowing laughter from the old voodoo queen. It was remembering that feeling about her and Matt becoming lovers that had made her go rigid last night. It was an enticing prospect, but the possibility it was predestined made her feel out of control.

  Matt probably thought she was beyond weird.

  She sighed. He was the most attractive man she’d met in ages and in more ways than just the physical. He was kind and caring. However, she had to admit she’d had erotic dreams about him all night, so the physical was pretty compelling—

  “Hello, neighbor,” came a friendly voice over the fence that divided the two patios.

  “Matt, hello,” she said, her hand involuntarily clenching her cup. She sloshed a couple of drops of coffee on the table mat. Nothing like appearing sanguine and composed.

  “Mind if I come over?” he asked.

  She mopped up the drops with a napkin. “Not at all.”

  He left his patio and entered hers. “You’re up early this morning.”

  “Yes. I couldn’t, uh…the day seemed too beautiful to waste in sleep.” She gave him a bright smile.

  “I agree.”

  She saw him inhale deeply, then breathe out slowly. He looked solemn. She steeled herself for whatever he said. No matter what it was, she would remain calm and pleasant.

  “I wanted to apologize for last night,” he said, his eyes, as blue as the sky that formed a backdrop behind his head, never wavering from hers.

  She nodded as she tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound ridiculous, such as: But I loved it!

  “Coming on to an unwilling woman isn’t usually my style,” he continued after the tense silence.

  “No, no,” she quickly assured him, “I wasn’t unwilling, Matt.” He had to believe her. “It was the intensity that took me by surprise.”

  He stared into her eyes as if determined to find the truth. “Then you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” she said firmly. “Would you care to join me? I can recommend the day’s special, if you haven’t had breakfast.”

  “Thanks, I’d like that.”

  He took a seat opposite her at the table. The morning air was still cool, but the sun’s rays warmed her back.

  The early hour and daylight didn’t diminish his good looks, she noted, glancing across the table at him. He had a lean, clean-shaven face with interesting planes and a strong jaw. She liked the fact that he looked directly into her eyes when he spoke to her.

  Before she could suggest he call room service, the waiter who’d served her earlier appeared with a fresh pot of coffee and a place setting on a tray.

  “Will you be having breakfast, sir?” he asked, filling the cup for Matt after asking his preference for regular or decaffeinated coffee.

  “Regular, please, and I’ll take the special,” Matt said, gesturing toward Kerry’s used dishes, which the waiter loaded on the tray.

  “Very good. Do you also want milk?”

  Matt’s blue eyes twinkled, and a smile played around the corners of his very attractive mouth. “Just orange juice.”

  After the waiter left, Kerry said, “The ceremony was eerie, w
asn’t it? The drums and the fire, the dancing and the voodoo. Perhaps it had a greater influence on us than we realized when we, I mean, last night…”

  He nodded. “Perhaps,” he said slowly. “But I found you hard to resist long before the ceremony.”

  His words filled her with the wildest surge of longing she’d ever experienced. She concentrated on her coffee cup so he wouldn’t see the hunger in her eyes.

  While she had normal impulses when it came to men, she didn’t consider herself overly passionate. At least, she wasn’t inclined to leap into bed with every handsome man she met. But where Matt was concerned, well, she kept getting ideas.

  “We’ve shared a lot in a short time,” she reminded him, as he had her. “It makes for an unexpected closeness. Or else New Orleans is working its magic on us.”

  “Black magic or white?” he asked wryly.

  She met his gaze with a level one of her own. “I don’t know.” She hesitated. “I do know that I want to find out about Patti, where she was from, what will happen to her…to the remains.”

  “Do you want to see if the authorities will let us arrange for a cremation?”

  “Could we?” she asked, giving him a hopeful look. “We also need to find out the location of the plantation that woman mentioned last night.”

  “So we can put her spirit to rest there,” he finished.

  Kerry was touched that he understood her thoughts completely. “It’s important. I don’t know why. I’ve never believed in voodoo or anything like that, but I would like to do that for her. There was something about her that made me feel I knew her much better than I did. She was so kind to me, and I can’t bear the thought that no one cares, that no one grieves for her.”

  Thinking of her own close-knit family, Kerry couldn’t fathom having no one to mourn a death.

  “Maybe we can find someone,” he said. “Let’s check with the museum and see what they know about her since the restaurant didn’t have much information.”

  “Good idea.”

  The waiter brought Matt’s breakfast. For the next hour, Kerry and Matt made plans.