Island Fire

by Bobbi Smith

  Yet, as he tried to put her from his mind, the memory of her unblemished perfection taunted him, making him realize just how much he still desired her. Feeling the need for a drink, he picked up his pace and hurried back to the village, hoping liquor would dull the knot of pain centered in his chest.

  Espri remained on the beach long after Mitch had gone. She felt empty inside and colder than she'd ever been in her life. It was as if a vital part of her had died.

  The memory of Mitch's last desperate kiss assaulted her, and she remembered how difficult it had been for her to hold herself aloof, not to respond. She still wanted him, she could not deny it, but she fully intended to overcome that need. She had been happy before she knew Mitch, and she knew she would be happy again, somehow.

  The low, staccato beat of the native drums came to her then, as they resounded through the darkness and echoed eerily across the hills and beaches of Malika. The news they carried—Konga's death—shocked Espri. Jarred from her misery, she listened carefully to the message, knowing that, since she was a princess, her presence would be required at the ceremony. With little time to lose before the ritual was to begin, Espri raced back to the glade to prepare herself to attend.

  Mitch was glad that Tommy was not at the hut when he got back for he was in great need of solitude. Searching out the bottle of rum Kohea had given them, he took a fast, deep swig, enjoying its fiery potency. Bottle in hand, Mitch drew a shuddering breath and walked over to the doorway.

  He supposed that the unobstructed view of the sea and the star-dusted sky was beautiful, but tonight he found no appeal in it. Instead, he longed to be gone—to be free of the island and the spell Espri had cast upon him.

  His last thought startled him, and he considered it carefully as he took another big swallow of rum. What did he really feel for her? He had enjoyed their lovemaking. She had been the most exciting woman he'd ever had, and she had been a virgin. From the first moment they'd touched, he had wanted her. She was still a fire in his blood—an unquenchable thirst. But what did it mean? Was this love? Mitch hastily discarded the thought. This was not love, but desire. With time, it would fade to a pleasant memory. He took another swig, hoping to reach the point of forgetfulness soon.

  Tommy was surprised to find Mitch alone at the hut, drinking, when he returned. "Where's Espri?" he asked easily.

  "At home, I believe," Mitch replied brusquely.

  "Is something wrong?"

  "No."

  "Oh." He could tell that Mitch was not in the best of moods so he decided to change the subject. "Are you going to the ceremony at the temple?"

  "Ceremony?"

  "Konga's funeral, I guess," Tommy explained. "When the drums stop, it will be time for it to begin."

  Mitch shrugged.

  "Well, I'm going to go. Maybe I'll see you there." When Mitch didn't bother to respond, Tommy started off in the direction of the temple.

  The drums suddenly ceased their throbbing tempo and a hush fell over the expectant mourners gathered before the altar. Then the beating began again, in a pulsing regular rhythm that built to fever pitch before exploding into a violent roll as Tikiru appeared. Draped in a white, flowing robe, she wore an ornate headdress styled of fresh flowers, and about her waist was a belt of polished shells.

  Tommy was mesmerized as he watched her from afar. How beautiful she looked tonight, how desirable! His gaze followed her every movement, and when she raised her arms to the sky in a gesture of supplication, he gasped, for in each hand she held a skull.

  When Tikiru heard the stunned exclamations of the people gathered before her, a thrill went through her as it always did when she performed the rituals for them. Chanting the death song, she placed the skulls of Konga's ancestors on the altar and then began the dance that had been handed down from generation to generation since the beginning of time as the Malikans knew it.

  Having just arrived at the village, Espri took her place at Luatu's side among the mourners. She looked most regal as she sat there, and she appeared to be concentrating solely on the ceremony, taking little notice of those around her.

  Mitch arrived late, and he remained at the rear of the crowd, watching the ritual with little real interest. He laughed silently over Konga's pernicious foolishness, for had the warrior waited one more day, he would have had Espri all to himself.

  Glancing around, he spotted Espri sitting with Luatu and Jacques in a place of honor near the front. His gaze lingered on her and he willed her to look his way, but Espri seemed oblivious to his presence.

  Tana was overjoyed when Mitch arrived by himself, and when he sat down at the rear, alone, she felt confident that her little discussion with Espri had worked.

  Despite her sedate manner as she sat with her father and grandfather, Espri had noted Mitch's arrival, and the sight of him, so tall and darkly handsome, had shaken her to the depths of her being. She longed to turn and look at him, but she refused to give in to the impulse. With great strength of will, she kept her gaze fixed on the altar and tried to concentrate on the ceremony, but the memory of the sweetness they'd shared tore at her heart.

  "Espri?"

  She looked up quickly at the sound of a man's voice and was surprised to see Ka, Luatu's servant.

  "May I sit with you? Chief Luatu will need me when the ceremony ends."

  "Of course," she replied, giving him a welcoming smile as he sat down next to her.

  Mitch had been watching Espri's every move, and when she smiled at the islander who sat down beside her, a surge of rage swept through him. Furious, he stalked from the temple, wanting only to get away from the sight of Espri with another man.

  Tana watched as Mitch left, and without a second thought she followed him from the temple, taking care to keep out of sight until she knew where he was bound.

  Every fiber of Espri's being had been aware of Mitch's presence, and when she sensed a movement in the area where he was seated, she couldn't stop herself from glancing up. To her disappointment, she discovered that Mitch had gone, but she saw Tana hurriedly go after him. Jealousy flared through her at the thought of Mitch with the other woman, and she turned back toward the altar, fighting back the tears that threatened.

  Mitch idly lifted the nearly empty bottle of rum to his lips, then drank deeply as he settled in on the beach before his hut. He was drunk and he knew it and he didn't care. Alone, he sat near the water's edge, watching the ebbing of the tide with a semblance of fascination. The copious amount of liquor he'd consumed since leaving the temple had quelled his rage, and he was feeling far more philosophical now about his attraction for Espri.

  Laughing in self-derision, Mitch told himself that there'd been nothing special about her.

  "Not a thing," he growled out loud.

  Tipping the bottle to his lips, he drank once more of the wine of self-deception. There was nothing special about Espri except that she had come to him untouched and she was beautiful and she had stirred him as no other woman.

  In a sudden flare of frustration, he was furious. First with Espri, for having ended something so perfect. Secondly with himself, for allowing her to become so important to him. Hadn't he seen what this kind of involvement with a woman could do to a man? Wasn't that why he'd always taken care not to allow any woman to get too close? He'd been a fool to let his guard down with Espri, and now he was paying the price.

  In a burst of painful logic Mitch decided it was far better that Espri had ended their interlude for she had saved him the trouble of doing so when the time came for him to head home. He hadn't wanted any commitments. When a ship arrived, he would leave Malika without a regret, and never look back . . . yet the thought of never again being with Espri left him feeling very empty and very alone.

  "Good evening, Mitch." Tana's tone was sultry and more than a little suggestive. She had watched from a distance as he'd settled down in the warm sands. She knew he'd been drinking, but she didn't care. If Espri was foolish enough to let this man go, she certainly wasn't g
oing to pass up the opportunity to entice him into her own bed.

  Mitch was surprised to see her for he had thought all the islanders would be at the temple. "Tana." His reply was neither inviting nor dismissing.

  "You are alone tonight?" she questioned coyly.

  Mitch grunted in response and took another drink. He had known since the first time he'd met Tana that she wanted him, but he'd made it a point to ignore her invitations. She was attractive; he just wasn't interested. He'd had the best the island could offer in Espri, and he wanted no substitute.

  Not in the least discouraged by his unresponsive attitude, Tana sat down beside him as he finished off the last of the rum.

  "The night is a lovely one," she purred in an attempt to draw him into conversation, but Mitch, in no mood for pleasantries, didn't bother to answer.

  "Is there a reason why you're drinking so much?" she finally asked when he tossed the empty bottle aside.

  "I'm celebrating," he told her, thinking to himself that it was best he and Espri were through, that he was glad he hadn't gotten more involved with her.

  "I would celebrate with you." Tana leaned closer in the hope of establishing a certain intimacy between them.

  "No, Tana." Mitch got unsteadily to his feet. "This celebration is a private one."

  Tana feigned a pout as she considered what to do next, but Mitch didn't give her a chance to act. Swaying, he trudged across the sands and disappeared into his hut.

  After the ceremony ended, Espri was completely miserable as she made her way back to her grandfather's home to spend the night Since she'd seen Tana go after Mitch, she had been haunted by a vision of the two of them together, making love. It was driving her to distraction.

  Espri had thought that ending their involvement was the right thing to do to save herself from future heartache, but she realized now that she had set herself up for misery. Mitch was a virile man who enjoyed women, and now she would be forced to watch as he became close to other, more willing, island maidens. The prospect unnerved her. Suddenly she remembered his parting words: "If you ever change your mind . . . you know where you can find me."

  Wouldn't it be better to share what little time they had left rather than to deny herself that small portion of happiness? Without Mitch, life stretched ahead of her in an unending series of bleak and lonely days. As she decided to take that risk, she smiled for the first time that night. She loved him, and though she was painfully aware of exactly what the future held, she would have to be satisfied with whatever Mitch would offer her. She hastened through the village, determined to find him and to set things straight between them.

  Tommy sighed as he glanced around the deserted bluff. He knew he hadn't mistaken Nelani's hastily relayed message at the end of the ritual, but he'd been waiting for a long time on the windswept cliff and there had been no sign of her. He grew more and more worried, but when he finally saw her rushing toward him, he opened his arms in ecstatic delight.

  "You came!" he declared gratefully before claiming her lips in passionate desperation.

  "I could not stay away from you, my golden one!" she told him breathlessly as they broke apart.

  "I have been wanting you all day—needing you," he whispered before kissing her again.

  "When Manti told me that a man had been killed during the catch, I was so afraid it had been you." Tikiru gazed up into his beloved face. "I love you, Tommy, and I would not want to go on without you."

  "You'll never have to, Tikiru," he told her huskily as he held her close.

  "I tried not to look for you during the ceremony tonight, but it was as if my eyes were drawn to you. Love me now, my golden one, for there is little time and I have great need of you." She moved from his embrace and released the cloak, letting it fall to her feet. She stood before him, proud in her nudity, then took his hand and led him to their bed of sweetgrass.

  They came together in a cataclysmic joining, both fierce and exciting. Ecstasy claimed them both quickly, and when they lay satisfied in one another's arms, they knew the joy of perfect union.

  "Marry me, Tikiru, and I will spend the rest of my days making love to you." Tommy rose above her, worshipping her with his eyes, but he felt her tense at his words. "Is something wrong?"

  "No," she hedged. Then, feeling that he deserved to know a part of the truth about her, she told him, "I cannot marry you, Tommy."

  "But why?" He was shocked by this news. It had seemed the perfect solution to their secret trysting. He would marry her and stay here with her, forever.

  "As taupau I must never marry," she explained as simply as possible without lying.

  He nodded slowly in understanding and then bent to kiss her. "I want no other as my wife, Tikiru, so I will love only you for all of our days."

  The beauty of his declaration moved her, and she began to cry softly as their lips met, sealing his pledge. She wanted nothing more than to spend her every waking moment with him, but she knew that was not to be. Fearful of Manti and of what might happen if he learned of her love for Tommy, Tikiru knew she could not linger with him. Denying her own desires, she tore herself away and hurried back to the haven of her home.

  Reluctantly, Tommy let her go, but he stood alone on the bluff for a long time after she'd gone, savoring the joy they had shared that night.

  It was late when he returned to the village, and he was surprised to find that the celebration in honor of Konga was still going on. When he joined Kohea and Anuitua near the big bonfire that had been built on the beach, Kohea pressed a full cup of kava into his hand and then smiled in approval as Tommy downed it quickly.

  "Did you go to the temple for the ceremony?" the older man asked as he refilled Tommy's cup.

  "Yes," Tommy replied as he took another deep drink of liquor.

  "How do you find our ancient ways?"

  "In many things, our societies are much alike. Where I come from, when someone dies, though there is sadness, there is also happiness. Many times there are gatherings such as this one. We call them wakes."

  Kohea nodded thoughtfully. "It is good."

  "The taupau is very beautiful," he added thoughtfully, unable to resist mentioning his love.

  "Yes. Tikiru is her name. She lives in the temple with the high priests and presides over all the ceremonial functions."

  "Does she ever come to the village?"

  "No!" Kohea was scandalized by the thought. "That would be tapu!"

  "Tapu? I don't understand."

  "It is strictly forbidden. The taupau must stay in the temple. She is never permitted to meet with mere mortals for there is always the danger that she would be defiled."

  "Defiled?" Tommy was suddenly growing concerned.

  "As taupau, she must remain inviolate. It is her vow. It is her sacred duty," he explained.

  Tommy nodded numbly, awestruck by what he'd done. Taking the cup of liquor with him, he started off down the beach, his thoughts in turmoil. If Tikiru was forbidden to meet with men, then she had risked everything to come to him. He worried about what would happen to them, should they be found out. Unable to send a message to her, he knew he would be forced to wait until they met again for answers to the questions bothering him.

  Tana stood just outside the door of Mitch's hut, trying to decide what to do. She wanted Mitch badly, but his dismissal of her had been discouraging. Determined to make one last try, she glanced inside and was disappointed to find that he'd already fallen asleep. An unladylike Malikan curse escaped her as she started to turn away. Then a distant movement at the far edge of the beach caught her eye. A lone female was heading toward the hut, and Tana knew instinctively that it was Espri.

  At the sight of her archrival, Tana assumed that her original plan to separate them hadn't worked, so decided to try one last vicious trick. Stepping into the darkened interior, she stripped off her sarong and stretched out carefully beside Mitch, placing herself in a wanton position. Then, smiling vengefully, she awaited the coming showdown.

&nb
sp; It had taken Espri some time to reach Mitch's hut, but she didn't care. She needed to see him, to talk with him, and more than anything to be held in his arms. How she loved him! She felt almost free since she'd acknowledged her need for him, and she could hardly wait to tell him of her desire.

  The moon was low in the blackened sky, and its harsh light seemed to coat all things in stark shades of black and gray as Espri eagerly approached the hut, her heart filled with gladness.

  "Mitch?" Having called out his name softly, she hesitated briefly before peering inside the hut. What she saw there caused Espri to gasp and silently back away. She had never thought it would happen so soon. She'd felt he'd cared for her a little, but obviously she'd been wrong. Mitch had replaced her as quickly as he could—and with Tana!

  Turning away, Espri raced toward her home, and when she reached the beach where she'd met Mitch earlier that night, she collapsed on the warm sand. Her dreams crushed, her innocence devastated, she sobbed brokenly, the vision of Tana lying naked in Mitch's arms tormenting her.

  Dawn found Espri huddled on the sand, awake but no longer naïve. An icy protective shell had formed about her heart that night, and, as she watched gold streaks washed across the horizon proclaiming a new day, she felt that she, too, was ready to face her future without Mitch—without love.

  Chapter 14

  Like a brilliant emerald, Malika rose majestically above the silken blue depths of the Pacific, and the men approaching the island in the massive, high-prowed canoe shouted their joy at having safely completed their journey. For the better part of four days, the three natives and the missionary had been navigating the open sea on the return leg of their voyage to the outer islands. Now their odyssey was at an end. They were home.

  Comfortably seated in the rear of the vessel, Father Pierre Papin watched as the lush tropical paradise came into view. Of all the islands he visited, only on Malika had he had a modicum of success in spreading the Word, and for that reason, returning here always seemed like a homecoming.