by Bobbi Smith
"I go now, but this is not the end between us, white man." With one last glance at Espri, he turned, and after snatching up his pareu, he stalked away into the darkness.
No longer able to control her reaction to what had almost happened to her, Espri began to shiver uncontrollably. Seeing her distress, Mitch took her in his arms once again and held her close to comfort her.
"Mitch . . . thank you," she managed to get out.
"Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice gruff as he suddenly became aware of her nakedness pressed so tightly against him.
"No, I don't think so." Espri looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "Your eyes!"
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." A heat soared through Mitch as he gazed at her alluring beauty. Tommy had been right; she was gorgeous. "But where the hell is Jacques? He should have come to your aid!" he declared furiously, angry at the other man's absence and at the uncontrollable desire flaring within him. Her husband should have responded to her call for help, not him! And what was she doing out here in the dark with that big islander in the first place? Had she been teasing Konga in the same way she'd been taunting him? His jaw tensed at the thought, but he imagined that that was probably what had happened. In his mind, contempt became mixed with concern.
Espri sighed, exhausted by her harrowing experience. "He's probably passed out somewhere," she said wearily. "After you went to bed, he started drinking kava and . . ." She let the sentence drop, not wanting to discuss her father's problem, but Mitch caught the nuance and looked down at her questioningly.
"Does he do this often? Leave you on your own this way?"
"Often enough." Espri's answer was tinged with sadness.
Mitch fell silent as he imagined her life with a man who got his greatest pleasure from a bottle, and he felt a pang of compassion for her. Her husband was a drunk. But how could Jacques possibly choose drink over Espri's love? She was so young and desirable.
Mitch suddenly wanted to soothe her hurts. He wanted to . . . As soon as the thought came, Mitch was irritated with himself for even having entertained it. What the hell was happening to him? It didn't matter what he wanted to do! She was Jacques's wife, and he would have none of her, no matter how delectable her sweet body was!
Tensing against the power of his demanding urge, he dropped his arms from her and stepped back, feeling the need to put some distance between them, to end the closeness of the moment.
"We'd better get back," he said, trying not to look at her as she stood before him, temptingly beautiful.
"Mitch?" Espri was still recovering from shock, and she swayed weakly before him, totally bewildered by his abrupt remoteness. Reaching out to him for support, she found herself longing to be back in the safety of his embrace.
He cursed under his breath when he realized she did not have the strength to stand on her own. Then he lifted her into his arms, intending to carry her back to the hut.
"Mitch?" His name was a soft plea, and Espri gently, nervously, reached up to touch his cheek. Was this the same man who had kissed her with such passion earlier that day? There was something disparaging in his eyes, and she was at a loss to explain it. Did he find her unattractive now that he'd actually seen her? His remembered touch, so different from Konga's foul abuse, had been gentle as well as arousing, and she longed for a sign of need from him now.
"Espri . . ." Mitch wanted to find her dress so she could cover herself before he lost what little control he had.
Go ahead and take what she's giving away! his baser side urged. After all, she's only a native girl. It's not as though she is the wife of some San Francisco business acquaintance. They do this all the time here! Take her! He was tempted, Lord knows he was. Espri was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman—passionate and willing, her body lushly curved. Mentally, he shook himself, making one last attempt to hold himself in, but when she placed her arms about his neck and pressed herself to him, whispering, "Please," he was lost.
His mouth swooped down to claim hers. Gone were his noble intentions. Gone was his vow not to have her. He was a man driven by the demons of desire as his mouth plundered hers. Allowing her to slide down his body so she stood pressed against him, he caressed her, exploring her back and hips with a knowing, experienced touch. Then, cupping her buttocks, he lifted her to him and moved his hips suggestively against her nestling softness, letting her know exactly what his intentions were. He was on fire. He had to have her.
Espri could feel the hard evidence of his love pressing demandingly against her, and she gloried in it. She wanted him. No longer did she try to hide from that fact. His kiss was exquisite pleasure, his touch exquisite agony.
No words were spoken as they dropped slowly to the sand, together.
"You're more lovely than I ever imagined," Mitch told her thickly as he drew her down with him and kissed her with a fervency that left her breathless. His caresses traced paths of tingling excitement over her silken flesh as he explored her body. Her flesh felt sleek and supple, her breasts were succulent and inviting. Unable to resist, he bent to suckle the crest of one satin orb, and the cry of pleasure that erupted from her thrilled him. He molded her lithe, velvet form to his lean hardness as she writhed, in need, against him.
Espri could not remain still. The feel of his lips at her bosom stirred the flame of her excitement even higher until she knew she would do anything just to please him. The heat he'd created within her left her burning with desire, and all rational thought fled her mind as she drew him to her. Boldly, she reached down to touch him as she had seen Tana touch Konga, and when she heard Mitch's sharp intake of breath a victorious smile curved her lips. She would please him just as Tana had pleased Konga.
Her experience meager, she had to rely only on what she'd witnessed the other night. Quickly, she slipped her hand between their straining bodies and unknotted his pareu, pushing it aside to give her free access to his hardness. Her hands were restless as they strayed, with intimate innocence, over him, teasing and arousing at the same time.
Remembering how Konga had responded to the caresses of Tana's mouth, she decided to do the same thing to Mitch. Drawing him to her, she kissed him deeply, meeting his pleasure-giving tongue in a passionate duel. Then, wanting only to satisfy him further, she let her lips trail down his neck and across his chest. Only as she shifted lower to touch her lips to his throbbing need did Mitch react.
Up to that point, Mitch had been totally enthralled by her exquisite movements and her unhampered response to his caresses. He had felt certain, because of her seemingly practiced caresses, that she was far from innocent, and that certainty eased his still-troubled, but somewhat silenced, conscience. But, when she moved to caress him so boldly with her lips, he was stunned. The cold reality of what was coming to pass jolted him back to his senses, and he tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her up, away from him.
Espri cried out in both pain and surprise at his reaction.
Mitch was filled with self-loathing as he realized that, no matter how wrong it was for them to come together, he still wanted her.
"This can go no further, Espri."
She heard the censure in his voice. "I don't understand."
Swearing out loud from frustration, he rolled away from her heated body and stood up.
Espri stared up at him in total confusion as he tied the pareu about his waist.
"You don't want me?"
"My body desires yours; that's all," Mitch bit out, forcing an icy control over his raging passion.
"And that isn't enough?" She frowned. Konga had said that that was all that mattered.
Mitch misunderstood her words, and his expression grew scornful for he thought her a wanton.
"No." His answer was curt and final. "For me, it isn't." Disgusted with himself for his weakness where Espri was concerned, he turned away, heading back toward the path to the hut.
Chapter 8
"What happened? Did you see him?" Nelani asked excitedly as she and Tikiru made t
heir way through the dense foliage of the tropical forest.
"Yes, I saw the golden one." Her mistress's tone was serious.
"The golden one? Why do you call him that?" she questioned as she hurried to keep up with her mistress.
"It is not for you to know," Tikiru replied haughtily.
Frustrated by her reply. Nelani decided to use a little bargaining power. "It will be for Manti the high priest to know, if you continue to abuse my service. I am here to see that you are happy, but not to assist you in breaking your vow," she challenged, feeling possessive toward the handsome white man she had seen first.
Tikiru's eyes narrowed as she spun about and faced her slave. "I would see you dead before I would allow you to speak to Manti of this."
Inwardly, Nelani quaked at her mistress's threat, but she did not show her fear. "Then tell me why it is you had to see this man when those in the village hold no attraction for you."
Pondering the wisdom of sharing the sacred vision, Tikiru finally assented. "I had a vision of a golden man."
Nelani was stunned. It was well known that Tikiru's visions were tapu. "Was Tommy the man in your vision?" She held her breath as she awaited the answer.
"He was." Tikiru turned and started to walk on toward her hut, leaving her awestruck servant to follow.
"What did your dream tell you?" Nelani didn't know whether to be worried or happy; over the years, Tikiru's visions had predicted both good and bad.
"I have not yet been able to fully interpret its message."
"Did you tell Manti of your vision?"
Tikiru glanced back at Nelani and transfixed her with a commanding glare. "No. And I won't until I understand it completely. Now, be quiet. We do not want the priests to discover that we ventured out."
Nelani fell silent as she trailed after her.
Tikiru's mind was racing, trying to understand what had just happened with this one called Tommy. He had kissed her. She had seen that done often enough when couples engaged in ritual mating during the fertility ceremony, but she had never known that it could evoke such pleasurable sensations. She had tingled all over from the touch of his mouth on hers, and she would have allowed him to kiss her again, had the presence of the others not deterred her. Was there danger in this? A kiss surely did not break her vow not to know man.
And what was she to do about the meeting she'd arranged for the next night? If she did not go, he would no doubt begin to ask questions and then the truth would be out. No, she would have to meet him herself or . . . The sudden inspiration to send Nelani in her place felt right. She would do it.
Once they were safe inside their hut, she threw off her concealing cloak and faced her slave, her expression set.
"Tomorrow night, when I have returned from the sacrifice, we will go out again."
"Tikiru! It is so dangerous for you!" Nelani protested.
"Be silent! I will tell you what to do and you will do it. There is much to be considered. Leave me now."
"Shall I bathe you?"
"No, be gone. You offend me with your disapproval. I am the taupau."
"Yes, Tikiru. I will go." Backing from the room in total submission, Nelani disappeared to her own sleeping quarters.
Tikiru waited until Nelani had gone; then she stripped off her sarong and, after tossing it casually aside, strode, nude, across the room to step out onto the veranda. Bathed in the moonlight, she seemed an ivory statue as she stood motionlessly on the stone gallery staring out at the dark forest.
The vision came to her again, then, and she swayed in a trancelike state as scene after scene bombarded her. The golden man . . . the golden man . . . over and over she saw him, and each time he was making love with an incredibly lovely island girl. She could see their coupling vividly, but she could not identify the female whose face was always hidden from her, as it had been in the dream. Once more a strange emotion swept through her, leaving her weak and trembling. Then came the fear . . . molten and golden and swirling in a heated whirlpool of devouring death. Collapsing on the veranda, Tikiru sobbed helplessly and finally fell into deep normal sleep from which she did not awaken until daybreak.
Nelani lay on her bed contemplating all that had happened that day. She had never known Tikiru to be so secretive, and it troubled her. She felt that her mistress, whose every wish was granted, would only have the need to hide things if they boded ill. Unless she had come to desire a man . . . Nelani frowned at the possibility. Had Tikiru's vision involved passion for Tommy? That thought sent a shiver of frightened expectancy down her spine. She prayed to the gods it was not so, for if the taupau desecrated her body by coupling with a mere man, that could mean death at the hands of the high priest for Tikiru and the man—and herself for not having prevented it. Pushing that terrifying thought from her mind, Nelani closed her eyes, and after a long restless time, she finally drifted off to sleep.
Espri had remained on the beach, lost in troubled thought. What had happened to Mitch? One moment they had been lost in the throes of ecstasy, and the next he'd pushed her away from him. Then he'd left her after a curt dismissal.
The passion she'd felt had turned quickly to embarrassment as she'd realized that her father might have been right. Mitch was a white man, and perhaps he was not like the island men. Perplexed by all that had happened, she wondered anxiously what to do next. Her heart prodded her to go after Mitch, to try to find out why he'd rejected her, but logic dictated that she stay away from him for he obviously did not want her. Knowing that she would have no peace of mind until she fully understood, Espri retrieved her sarong, tied it securely about her, and followed the path Mitch had taken.
Mitch paced the hut like a caged animal. He was glad that he'd come to his senses before taking Espri, but the memory of her volatile responses to his every touch left him feverish with desire. He had long considered himself an accomplished lover, but not even the most passionate and learned of his past mistresses could compare with Espri. Her skin was like velvet; he couldn't resist touching it. Her lips, like the finest wine, never quenched his thirst. Mitch drew a sharp breath as he remembered the taste of her flesh. She was beautiful . . . she had wanted him. He cursed himself soundly for being a fool, and he couldn't wait for morning when he could leave the torture chamber that her home had become. His jaw tight, he slowly brought his need for her under some semblance of control. Then he stretched out on the mat and tried to rest.
Espri was nervous and unsure of herself as she crossed the clearing. The fire was only a mass of glowing embers now, and she mused that that was exactly how she felt, the blazing fire that Mitch had stoked to life within her having faded to smoldering ashes. Hurt by his rejection and unsure of his reception, she moved cautiously toward the hut. The black abyss of the doorway seemed very intimidating. Tentatively, she peered into the dwelling's concealing darkness, and she saw Mitch, lying on the mat, seemingly asleep.
"Mitch?" Her voice, though barely a whisper, seemed loud to her own ears, and she started skittishly at the sound.
Mitch had found it impossible to sleep. His body still ached with need for Espri, and he'd become more and more restive with each passing moment. Keeping his eyes closed, he gritted his teeth against his powerful longing and lay rigidly on the bed.
The sound of her voice brought him upright on the mat. "Espri?" he questioned. Then he saw her silhouetted in the doorway against the red glow of the dying fire.
"Oh, Mitch!" She wanted to tell him of her confusion, to ask him to explain everything to her, but her words were a sigh of yearning that shattered the last fragments of his ironwilled control.
All thoughts of right and wrong lost, he came to his feet and swept her into a possessive embrace, his mouth claiming hers.
Without hesitation, Espri surrendered to his lovemaking. She had found her answer. He did want her; that was enough! The confusion that had plagued her was forgotten. There was only Mitch and the moment and the desire she felt for him.
Urged on by her willingn
ess, Mitch gave himself over to the illicit joy of her love. He wanted her and he would take her. He was a man with a man's needs, and she was the one woman who could satisfy those needs.
But what had started out as a mere lusty encounter changed in nature as their kisses grew less and less fervent and more and more enraptured. There was a wondrous element to this final acknowledgment of the inevitability of their joining, and they both experienced it, slowing their pursuit of oneness to savor every touch, every kiss.
"I need you, Espri, more than I've ever needed another woman," Mitch confessed as he broke off one heart-stopping kiss to stare down at her in the dusky half-light. Her exotic beauty could strike all semblance of sanity from his mind and leave him an unthinking creature governed only by his passion. Even before he had seen her, he had wanted her, and now . . . with a guttural growl, he bent to her again, tasting of her mouth and pulling her full against him.
Espri thrilled to his abandoned caresses, and when he encouraged her to move to the mat with him, she went without pause. What little clothing they were wearing was quickly discarded and they surged together, flesh melding to flesh, the mindless unity of love.
Mitch committed to memory each satiny curve of her welcoming body: her full, responsive breasts . . . her gently rounded hips . . . her slim, well-shaped legs. He thought of them wrapped tightly about his waist as he plunged hungrily into her, and he shivered in anticipation.
Mindless in her arousal, Espri clung to him as he positioned her beneath him and moved between her thighs. Spreading her legs wide, he pressed against her, the proof of his fierce desire for her pressing intimately at the portals of her womanhood. As his alien hardness touched her as no man had, a gasp of excited expectancy escaped her, and she tightened her grip on his shoulders, biting her lip to keep from crying out.
"Easy, love." Mitch, thinking her experienced, bent to kiss her just as his hips surged forward to penetrate her sweetness. The slight barrier he encountered was rent before he understood its significance, and the sudden, unexpected knowledge of her innocence rocked him to the depths of his being. "Espri . . ." he groaned as he lay sheathed in her feminine core, the ardor that was gripping him driving him to lay claim to that fertile ground which had previously been untouched.
