Lust and Honor
(a short story)
Harriet Schultz
Copyright © Harriet B. Schultz, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, except for brief quotes used in reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales, is entirely incidental.
Diego Navarro stood at the altar, his posture as erect as a soldier’s. The starched collar of his white dress shirt made his neck itch, but he could do nothing about it. Instead, he lifted his hand to his head to assure himself that every coal black hair was in place. It felt strange to resemble someone other than himself, a man who most often looked rumpled, like he'd just left his bed. But this was a wedding and his appearance today was important to people he loved. Besides, he knew the tux fit him perfectly and he looked good.
His best friend, Will Cameron, was at his side and one glance told him that Will seemed just as uncomfortable as he was. They exchanged nervous grins, then he turned his attention back to the parade of beautiful, smiling bridesmaids as they sashayed down the aisle in pastel pink. Two of the young women were smiling at him, but then women always smiled at him. It was easy to ignore them because his focus was on the bride. Once she appeared at the head of the aisle, Diego’s attention never strayed from her. She walked toward the altar at a pace more appropriate for a New York City street than a church’s long aisle, but he’d never known Alexandra MacBain to dither.
She was also alone, with no father to slow her rush toward the man she loved. Her parents had died two years earlier when their Jaguar skidded into a concrete post as they’d sped toward Manhattan on a snowy night, late for a Broadway show. He, Will and her best friend, Francie, had never left her side and he was happy that she'd somehow reached a point where she could feel joy again. He imagined that emotion fizzing through her bloodstream like champagne. After all, she was about to marry someone she referred to as the man of her dreams.
As Will descended the steps and held a hand out to her, Diego saw her glance toward the first pew where her in-laws-to-be, the glacial Anne and aloof John Cameron, sat. Then she averted her eyes and kept them on the man whose large hand now enveloped hers.
* * *
Despite the pain it caused, Diego couldn’t look away from the bride’s radiant face. The Spanish nickname he’d given her swirled through his mind. “Preciosa.” He’d once warned Will that Alex was a precious gem that many men, himself included, might try to steal. His friend had laughed good-naturedly and the name stuck. Now he had to fight the impulse to push the groom aside and take his place next to Alex…make her his, but that would never be. It might be an antiquated notion, but honor was important to him and he loved Will like a brother. Alex had chosen his best friend and he would have to let go of the fantasy and live with the reality. It helped that he’d almost convinced himself that his attraction to her was purely sexual and didn’t involve his emotions.
The best cure for this lusty infatuation, he knew, would involve a lot of women, not exactly a hardship. From the time he was a teenager, the effect of his looks, wealth and charm on females made him sometimes feel like a fox being pursued by hounds. This wasn’t conceit; it was simply the truth.
Distance and a change of culture would also help him to stop thinking about Alex. His parents were thrilled that he was returning to Buenos Aires where a partnership in his family’s property development company was waiting for him and the business smarts he had after six years of the best education money could buy. The change would mean an end to his scruffy appearance. The deal he’d made with his father included bespoke suits that would fit like a glove, handmade shoes and frequent trims to keep his thick hair neat. He turned his attention back to the ceremony in time to hear the priest ask him for the delicate emerald and diamond band that Will had chosen for his bride.
* * *
As Will slipped the ring on her finger and the priest began a sermon on the history and sanctity of marriage, Alex’s mind wandered. Two days before the wedding, she and Will had needed to shake off their jitters and headed out for a walk. After just a couple of steps, Alex came to an abrupt halt. “I have to go back. Wait here,” she said before giving Will a quick kiss. She licked her lips when she tasted the sweetness of his breakfast pancakes’ maple syrup, then her nose twitched as it picked up the scent of wood smoke on his sweater from the fire he’d built to ward off the morning’s chill.
“Why? What did you forget this time?” he asked.
“I need my Swiss Army knife. It has a corkscrew. We might decide to have a picnic…with wine. How else will we open the bottle? I’ll just be a minute.” She grinned as Will rolled his eyes in exasperation, but he also smiled like a longtime lover who recognizes a behavior that would be exasperating in another, but is endearing in their beloved. Alex knew she might drive him nuts, but she was sure that he loved her — quirks, neuroses, and all.
She’d left Will leaning against a car that was parked outside their Back Bay Boston apartment building, his face lifted toward the sun. Alex knew that he would be oblivious to the admiring looks he'd receive from both men and women as they walked by. She smiled when she realized that if Diego were next to him, as he often was, they’d cause a human traffic jam. Both men were 6’4” of gorgeous male with broad shoulders, narrow hips and fair skin that contrasted with their shiny black hair. But Diego’s eyes were as dark as his hair and her fiancé’s were an unusual hazel — gold-flecked, tinged with blue and green. Whenever Will Cameron looked at her she melted, and wanted nothing more than to stay lost forever in his eyes.
* * *
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest said and smiled at Alex. She turned toward Will. The eyes of the man she so loved were twinkling with happiness and humor. His arms came around her and, as his embrace tightened, she felt the secure warmth of his body. Then, as if he realized that hundreds of eyes were on them, he loosened his hold to cradle her face in his large hands. Their lips met…once, twice… and finally, hands clasped and grinning, they turned. Alex lifted the hem of her gown and they ran up the aisle to the delight of their guests.
Diego watched, mesmerized, as the distance grew between him and his best friends, then he shook himself and, as was expected, extended his arm to escort Alex’s maid of honor in the same direction. He hadn’t missed the blissful expression on the bride’s face when she’d turned toward Will and recognized, with some surprise, that he was happy for them.
He hadn’t even tried to make a move on her before Will swooped in a few years earlier and captured her heart, so he’d never know if he’d ever stood a chance. And he had enough integrity not to try after that. Besides, the last thing he wanted was a wife — a lover, yes, but a wife? Testosterone still raged through his body and he wasn’t anywhere near ready to marry. He wasn’t even sure that he was the kind of man who’d ever be able to be faithful to one woman. There was too much female temptation that he had no desire to resist. Perhaps someday.
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