Island Fire

by Bobbi Smith

  Fear froze her heart and she glanced surreptitiously at Mitch, studying his dark, handsome features. Was she beginning to fall in love with him? No! She would not love Mitch, nor any man. Girding her emotions against such foolhardiness, she struggled to maintain her calm demeanor as she efficiently guided him outside.

  The warmth of the sun was a joyous caress to Mitch as he stepped out of the hut, but even its enticing heat could not distract his thoughts from the woman who was walking beside him, guiding him to their destination. The sweet fragrance of her perfume teased his senses, and he was annoyed at his inability to casually dismiss the memory of her embrace. Though her kisses had affected him as no other woman's had, she was Jacques's wife. While he hadn't been a saint or a celibate all these years, he most certainly did not sleep with married women. The very idea repulsed him. With great effort, he forced all thoughts of how pleasurable it had been to have her in his arms from his mind and hardened his heart against her. Espri had nursed him and he was thankful for that, but he knew he would have to make sure that nothing ever came of the powerful attraction that existed between them. He was relieved when he was settled in the dining hut and Espri released her hold on his arm. He relaxed and enjoyed the meal, conversing easily with Jacques and making some plans for a trip to the village to meet the man he hoped was Tommy.

  Chapter 6

  It was midafternoon, a quiet time when the oppressive heat of the day slowed the pace of life on Malika. Deep within the heart of the island, secluded in a glade shaded by massive ironwood trees, was the impressive home of the taupau, the sacred virgin of the tribe. The taupau, a young woman named Tikiru, lived in this place of honor far from the village, for her lofty position forbade her from having casual contact with the islanders.

  Her hut was a mansion by Malikan standards. It rested on a raised stone platform and had broad, airy verandas at the front and the back. On the front veranda, Tikiru now reclined while her servant Nelani artfully arranged her hair.

  Chosen at birth for her position, Tikiru had been denied nothing during her sixteen years of life save intimacy with man. She was the vestal virgin, the chaste sacrifice to the gods, and as such she was given preferential treatment over all. She wore no clothing as she rendered herself to her handmaiden's attentions, enjoying the faint caress of the warm, gentle breeze on her smooth, untouched flesh. Her skin was golden, her features perfect, her breasts small yet inviting.

  Nelani, her slave, stood behind her concentrating on the task of styling Tikiru's freshly washed hair. She, too, had been chosen at birth, but it was her lot to serve the taupau and keep her happy. Her earliest memories were involved with that pursuit. By virtue of her profession, she, too, was to remain celibate, forsaking the pleasures of the flesh for the honor of serving in the temple.

  "I do not believe you." Tikiru glanced up suspiciously at her servant.

  "It is true, Tikiru," Nelani insisted. "I have seen him myself."

  "You have seen a man with hair as golden as the sun?" Tikiru frowned at the news.

  Nelani nodded, her manner at once serious and excited for the man was the most handsome one she'd ever seen.

  "He was pulled from the sea yesterday and is staying with Anuitua."

  Tikiru was intrigued.

  "Tell me about him," she commanded, and her servant hastened to reply.

  "I did not speak to him. He had not yet recovered from his time in the sea, but he was young and very handsome."

  "I would like to know more about him. You will go back to the village and find out for me."

  "But why?" Nelani was confused by her mistress's sudden interest in a man. Never before had any male attracted her attention.

  Tikiru glared at her. "It is not your place to question me! Go! And do not come back until you can tell me everything about him."

  "Your hair?"

  "It is fine for now."

  Nelani knew better than to arouse her mistress's ire. Many times she had been whipped for something that Tikiru had considered an offense.

  "I will go," she acceded, and immediately left on her quest to discover more about the stranger who was saved from the sea.

  Tommy O'Ryan sat in the comfort of Anuitua's home, believing himself to be the luckiest man alive. Somehow, the fates had decreed that he be washed ashore on this beautiful tropical island, and here he was, in almost perfect health, being waited on by friendly natives who couldn't do enough to please him. His clothing had been torn from him during the long hours he'd spent in the sea so he wore only a pareu that had been given to him by Kohea, husband to Anuitua.

  Alone for the first time since his rescue, Tommy sat quietly, drinking fresh water from a cup fashioned from a coconut shell. As happy as he was over his own narrow escape from death during the storm, his thoughts were drawn to Mitch and he felt an overwhelming sense of loss. The man who'd helped him so much during the torturous months at sea under Captain Warson was no doubt dead.

  His heart heavy, Tommy remembered how Mitch had stood up to the brutal captain, and he was glad that he'd been brave enough to free him from the hold before the ship had been destroyed. At least, Mitch had had a fighting chance to survive. That was all anyone could ask for.

  Nelani made the trip to the village as quickly as possible. She found Tikiru's interest in this man baffling. Furthermore, it worried her. The high priests did everything they could to keep Tikiru isolated, and it would not bode well for her mistress should they learn that she was becoming interested in men. That was tapu!

  Though she often came to the village, Nelani took great care not to attract undue notice as she tried to learn more about the survivor. Little could be gleaned, however, from the idle chatter of the women. Frustrated, she realized that she would have to go directly to Anuitua, and she approached the other woman with considerable trepidation.

  "Nelani! What a surprise to see you here!"

  Anuitua's easy greeting eased Nelani's nervousness.

  "I have come on an errand for Tikiru. She wanted to know how the man you rescued is doing." Her words were not false.

  "He is doing well," Anuitua told her proudly, pleased with her own part in saving him.

  "That is good news."

  "Had you heard about the other man?"

  "No. There was another?"

  "Yes, on the far side of the island. Espri and Jacques found him, but I believe he is more seriously injured than Tommy."

  "Tommy?"

  "That is his name, Tommy O'Ryan. He just left with Luatu's man, Ka, to go and see this other man who was rescued."

  "Oh." Nelani tried not to let her disappointment at having missed the stranger show. "I must go now. I will see you soon, Anuitua."

  Instead of following the track back to Tikiru, she skirted the village and raced through the low, dense growth in an effort to catch up with Ka and this Tommy. Luckily, the men's progress had been slow, for Tommy had not fully recovered his strength, and Nelani was able to locate them after a short search. Keeping herself hidden by foliage, she watched as Ka helped the young man traverse the slightly difficult forest path.

  Her first impression of Tommy had been correct, Nelani thought. He was tall and slim, and his blond hair glistened in the sunlight like molten gold. He was unlike any man she'd ever seen before. She remained unmoving until they had passed from sight; then she started back to tell Tikiru all that she'd seen and heard.

  Mitch lay on the pandanus mat in the hut, trying to rest, but sleep would not come. Time and again, he recalled the illicit kiss he'd shared with Espri, and desire, unbidden, flared. He swore violently under his breath as his thoughts wandered to what might have happened had their kiss not been interrupted.

  Suddenly sitting up, Mitch banished his imaginings, and with a nervous gesture, he raked his hand through his thick, dark hair. Despite his determination to resist his attraction to Espri, he could not deny that what he felt for her was strong—almost overpowering. The meal they'd shared had been an exercise in self-control, for s
he had sat close beside him, helping him with his food and brushing ever so casually against him while he had tried to carry on an intelligent conversation with her husband.

  Cynically, Mitch reasoned that Espri was probably very aware of his desire for her and that was why she'd been carrying on as she had. And, though he had heard all the sailors' tales of just how wanton the island women were, he could not forget that she was married. Contempt for her flooded through him, successfully killing the ardor his more erotic thoughts had evoked. He would leave Jacques's home as soon as possible, thereby removing himself from temptation. When the bandage came off in the morning, he decided, he would go to the village and be free of Espri's sensuous presence.

  "Jacques!" Ka, servant to Luatu, called out to the old Frenchman sitting contentedly in the dining hut, drinking from a bottle of rum.

  "Ka, it is good to see you!" Jacques slowly rose to his feet as Luatu's man approached, accompanied by an unknown white man. "There's no trouble in the village, is there?" he asked quickly, wondering at the visit.

  "No. All is well. I have come because Chief Luatu asked that I bring O'Ryan here to see the man you rescued."

  "You must be Anuitua's man?" Jacques turned to Tommy.

  "I'm Tommy O'Ryan, sir." Tommy was surprised to find a white man in residence on the island.

  "Jacques Duchant. I'm glad to see that you're better."

  "Thank you. I was very lucky. From what I've been told, the man you saved was the only other survivor of the Seastorm's sinking."

  "It seems that way." Jacques nodded.

  "Has he improved?" Tommy asked hurriedly.

  "Mitch is going to be fine."

  "Mitch!" Tommy's excitement was undeniable. "Mitch is the man who's here with you?"

  "Why, yes . . . he's—"

  Having heard the sound of voices outside, Mitch got to his feet and gropingly made his way to the door.

  "Mitch!" Tommy caught sight of his friend and ran straight to him. "Thank God, you're the one!"

  The two men embraced heartily before Tommy asked with sudden concern, "What happened to your eyes?"

  "It's not my eyes so much as the cut on my forehead, but Jacques and Espri have assured me that I will have this off tomorrow." He put a tentative hand on his carefully swathed brow.

  "Good."

  "Come, let us sit and have some refreshment," Jacques offered, motioning toward the shade of the nearby ironwood trees.

  Taking Mitch's arm, Tommy led him in the direction Jacques indicated, and they sat in the cooling shadows some distance from the hut while Jacques went for a bottle of rum.

  "Where is Espri?" Ka asked when Jacques returned with the liquor.

  "She has gone to fetch water, but she should be returning soon."

  "She is a lovely woman. The envy of many," Ka remarked, and Mitch sensed possessive pride in Jacques's terse answer.

  "Yes. She is."

  Nelani was nearly breathless when she reached the hut, and she was dismayed to find that Tikiru was not there. Taking the path that led to their own private freshwater pool, she found her mistress sitting on the bank, nude, staring at her own reflection.

  "Do you think me beautiful, Nelani?" Tikiru asked, not taking her eyes from her reflection in the still waters.

  "Oh, yes, Tikiru. Very. Your beauty is honored by all," her servant acknowledged.

  "And my body?"

  "Is perfect." Nelani was puzzled by the questions. "I do not understand why you ask me these things."

  "It is not important that you understand," Tikiru declared arrogantly.

  Suitably humbled, Nelani waited silently for her mistress to speak.

  "What did you discover?" Tikiru finally asked as she stood up.

  "The man's name is Tommy O'Ryan."

  "Tommy . . ." She smiled as she spoke his name. "What else?"

  "He is healthy now. I saw him walking with Ka. He is handsome for a white man." Nelani felt her heartbeat quicken. "Tall and slim and his hair is like no other—"

  "He is staying with Anuitua?"

  "For now."

  Tikiru smiled, her dark eyes alight with some inner excitement. "You may go."

  Recognizing that her mistress was planning something, Nelani knew it was her duty to speak up. "Tikiru, you must not see this man. You must not have anything to do with him!"

  Tikiru became indignant. "I do not need your advice, Nelani!"

  "But—"

  With all her strength, Tikiru slapped Nelani across the face, and she watched with pleasure as the girl's lip began to bleed profusely. "Do not ever tell me what to do! You are my slave! Now, be gone!"

  Cowed by her mistress's vicious temper, Nelani fled the pool.

  Tikiru shrugged indifferently as the young woman disappeared into the forest. Nelani is a fool, she thought. Smiling confidently, she stretched languidly and ran her hands over her body. She didn't understand exactly what was happening to her of late, but she had become restless and she was bored. True, as taupau, she wanted for nothing. She was pampered and spoiled, perfumed and bathed, but there was an unnamed yearning deep within her. It was making her desperate for . . . for what?

  Tikiru didn't know exactly what she needed. Her unrest seemed to have begun when she'd presided over the fertility rites. She had had a vision that night. She had seen the image of a man, a man formed in gold. During the trance she'd seen him joining with a dark-haired woman, and a great emotion had swept through her, rendering her weak with an unknown longing. Then that emotion had been overpowered by a terrible sense of dread. The mystical dream had left her shaken, and now, Nelani's news of a white man with hair the color of the sun both excited and frightened her. Had the vision been a warning? Was he there to harm her or to help her?

  Knowing that she could not rest until she had seen him, Tikiru began to make plans to enter the village that night, incognito. She had never made the attempt before, having always been content to follow the priests' dictates to stay aloof from the everyday life of the island, but she knew now that she must go. She had to know the true meaning of her dream.

  Espri was surprised to find that they had visitors when she returned to the glade, and she was glad that she'd taken a few extra minutes to freshen up while at the pool. She had not dallied there long, though; for the memory of Tana and Konga entwined in the throes of passion had besieged her, causing her to wonder at the joy to be found in that most intimate embrace.

  She did not doubt that making love with Mitch would be exciting—just being near him made her senses reel—but she felt she could not allow herself to become too involved. Attractive though he might be, he was a force to be reckoned with—a threat to her well-being—and she could not risk losing her heart to him. Still, she wanted him. She could not deny it. He'd created a firestorm of feeling within her, and his touch left her weak willed and craving more.

  Observing Mitch now, as he sat with her father and the other two men, she admired again his fine masculine figure. Tall and broad-shouldered, he exuded a potent maleness, and she was certain that no village maiden would refuse him should he decide to take her to his bed. To distract herself, Espri concentrated on welcoming their guests, hurrying forward to greet them.

  Mitch sensed rather than heard her return to the glade, and when Jacques called out for her to join them, he tensed.

  "Espri, this is Tommy O'Ryan. The man who was rescued near the village. He is staying with Anuitua."

  "So you are Mitch's friend." Espri was genuinely pleased.

  Tommy gazed up at Espri, captivated by her beauty. He cast a quick glance in Mitch's direction and wondered if his friend had any idea how lucky he was to be staying here with such a lovely woman. But Mitch's expression seemed suddenly grim, and when Espri sat down at his side, Tommy could have sworn that he looked almost pained. Handing his friend the bottle of rum, he watched curiously as Mitch took a deep drink.

  Espri, too, noticed Mitch's strained look.

  "Has your pain worsened?" she asked. />
  "No, it's the same," Mitch responded, trying to keep the curtness out of his voice. Why had she sat down next to him? He groaned mentally. It was bad enough that when she was near he was aware of her with every fiber of his being, but to have her within reach and not be able to take her into his arms again . . .

  Jacques, also, wondered why Espri had chosen to sit by Mitch, and as he watched the interplay between the two, he became concerned. It would not do for her to become enamored of this man. He was just a common sailor, and he had already expressed his desire to get off the island as quickly as possible. There would be no future for Espri with him. It would be better if she gave her heart to one of the island men—Konga, for example. Deciding to speak with her on the matter as soon as they were alone, he turned his attention back to the conversation.

  "When this bandage comes off," Mitch was saying to Tommy, "I'd like to join you in the village."

  "I'm sure we can arrange something," Tommy agreed, pleased at the thought of their being together.

  Espri knew she shouldn't care, but Mitch's words pierced her heart and she agonized over them. Giving him a sidelong glance, she let her eyes linger only briefly on the broad, muscular plane of his chest before dragging her gaze away. He was so eager to leave . . . it was just as Tana had said it would be. He would go and stay with Tommy—and Tana. Somehow the thought of him being near the insatiable Tana filled her with conflicting emotions, and she didn't know how to deal with them. Was her heart telling her that she wanted him? Espri quickly denied this possibility. She would let Mitch go, and she would not miss him.

  Happy to hear that Mitch was eager to go to the village, Jacques cast a quick look at Espri, and noting nothing different in her expression, he thought possibly he'd imagined her interest in the man. Just to be sure, though, he would talk with her about Mitch.