"Gently and slowly.
Please."
He lifted her into his arms in one easy movement.
"The bed isn't that soft," he warned.
"I don't care," she said.
The bedroom was cool and shuttered.
He put her down, and then
unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans.
She wriggled out of her
panties, and waited for him to finish stripping.
But when he stretched
out next to her, she realised that she no longer felt particularly
sexy, simply drowsy and pleasantly relaxed.
He began kissing her face again, but this time he moved down towards
her breasts almost at once, and then lower, to her stomach, and then to
her thighs.
His hands moved under her body to her bottom, and raised her up.
She
parted her legs slightly, and felt his mouth on her, his tongue
touching her gently, too gently to really arouse her.
But she did not care.
She was content to lie there and let him caress
her, let him enjoy his own explorations.
When at last he entered her,
she responded to his thrusting movements more from politeness than
desire.
His body felt pleasantly safe next to hers and his strength
and warmth were comforting.
She knew he wanted to please her, and she
did not want to disappoint him by appearing indifferent.
As his
thrusts grew deeper and less controlled, it triggered a natural
response within her, and, when he finally climaxed with a shuddering
cry, her own little moans of pleasure were quite honest.
Her orgasm
had been so gentle, it was hardly noticeable.
Afterwards they lay together for a long time, talking.
He told her
about his several attempts at romance, all of which failed when each of
the girls refused to leave America and return to Guachtal with him.
"One of them actually came over here for a holiday," he said.
He
laughed softly.
"When she discovered I didn't have electricity or a John that flushed,
she caught the next plane back to the States."
He rolled over on his
side and reached out to brush a strand of red hair from Jacey's face.
"That sort of thing doesn't bother you, though, does it?"
"No," she said.
"I've lived under worse conditions than that."
But she did not explain where.
She did not share any more of her own
past with him.
Much later, when she had dressed, and was ready to
leave, he put his arms round her again.
"Will you come out here again?
Soon?"
"Yes, I will."
She felt a stab of guilt because it was a lie.
She felt warm towards
him because he was the first man she had ever confided in, without
knowing why.
But he wasn't her type, she told herself; he was too damn
nice.
It wouldn't work.
He would not let her down.
Quite the
opposite.
He would undoubtedly be loyal, stable and devoted.
But could she give
him those qualities back?
She was not sure.
And she did not want to
see the disappointment in his eyes when she explained that she could
not give him a long-term commitment.
It was easier to lie, to lie by
keeping quiet about the fact that she had already booked her ticket to
England.
One way.
She told Ingrid and Dr.
Sanchez that a relative was getting married
and she wanted a brief holiday.
She lied to them, too, promising to be
back after a couple of weeks.
She did not say goodbye to Raoul, or to
Leonardo.
And she did not see Nicolas.
Two days after her visit to Felix Connaught's bungalow she was back in
London.
Jacey was surprised to see how grey and colourless London looked after
Guachtal, despite the fact that the sun was shining.
She also felt
cold, and gratefully accepted Major Fairhaven's offer of a cup of
tea.
"You've done well," he said, after she had explained her conclusions
about the situation in Guachtal to him.
"You didn't follow the expected path, but you got there is the end."
"What expected path?"
she asked.
The major looked slightly embarrassed.
"Well," he said awkwardly, 'we, er, thought that you and Nicolas
Schlemann might get together, and that maybe he'd confide in you."
"How sweet of you," she said coldly, inwardly seething.
"You sent me out there as a bribe.
Here you are, Senor Schlemann,
here's a nice lady for you to make use of, and we hope that a good fuck
will loosen your tongue."
She saw the major wince, and remembered that he hated foul language.
Tiease," he said, 'it wasn't like that at all.
Do you really think
we'd be so cold-blooded?"
"Yes," she said.
"What a pity you didn't do a little research first.
You'd have soon found out that Nicolas isn't the type to start
whispering state secrets when he's in a euphoric post-coital daze."
"We never intended anything of the sort," the major said stiffly.
"It was simply a question of maybe it would happen.
And maybe you
could use the situation, if it did.
After all' he tried to charm her
with a smile, but she stared stonily back "you're a very attractive
woman, and Schlemann has a reputation.
It was just one of the
options.
There were others."
He was still smiling, a fixed and insincere
grin.
"And you found some of them, didn't you?
All's well that ends well,
after all."
"For you," she agreed.
"And for the businessmen.
But not for the rain forest."
"My dear girl," he said, and she heard the irritation in his voice.
"You haven't been seduced by all that green nonsense, have you?
The
dangers to the rain forest have been grossly exaggerated, and countries
run on money, not hippy ideals."
Jacey stood up.
"Do you know," she said sweetly, 'you sound just like that crook
Nicolas Schlemann.
Isn't that strange?"
She turned to go, and then
stopped and smiled.
"But on second thoughts.
Major, perhaps it's not so strange after
all."
The first familiar face that Jacey saw when she returned to the Midland
General was Anton O'Rhiann.
He looked harassed, had a bundle of papers
under his arm, and was hurrying down the corridor.
If she had not
spoken to him, she was sure he would have gone past without recognising
her.
"Jacey?"
For a moment his eyes did not seem to focus on her, and she
knew he was very tired.
"What are you doing here?"
"Visiting," she said.
"Well."
He stared at her for a moment.
"Thanks for the letter."
For a moment she did not understand what he meant.
Then she remembered
the letter she had sent him, telling him she was leaving for South
America, and their affair was over.
"I didn't have the courage to say goodbye to your face," she
admitted.
"Obviously," he said.
There was a long pause, and she wondered if he felt as awkward as she
did.
"You're busy," she said.
"Perhaps we can meet later?"
"What for?"
His voice was bitter now.
"So that you can tell me what a good time you had in South America?
What were the men like, Jacey?
All out for a good time?
Sex and no
strings?
Did you have a lot of nice, non-permanent relationships?"
She was beginning to feel guilty.
She had treated him badly, running
out on him and leaving him a letter that didn't really explain much.
But she had not felt able to face him, and lie to him.
His increasing
insistence on legitimi sing their relationship had been part of the
reason why she had accepted Major Fairhaven's assignment.
She knew her
affair with Anton was virtually over.
Making a clean break had seemed
the right thing to do at the time.
"I went to Guachtal to work," she said.
"Oh, I'm sure you did," he agreed.
"And how long were you planning it?
You don't just drop everything and get a job abroad.
You must have
known for weeks in advance.
I don't suppose it occurred to you to tell
me?"
"It wasn't like that," she said.
"It all happened very quickly."
She knew he did not believe her, and she did not blame him.
But she
could not tell him the truth.
"That's what hurts the most," he said.
"You knew that you were going to leave me.
When we made love, you knew
it.
And you didn't say anything."
They faced each other in silence.
Then he said, "I have to go.
I'm very busy."
"I know what being a house doctor is like," she said.
"Oh, you remember, do you?"
"Hard work, but lots of job satisfaction," she said, saying the words
more lightly than she felt.
He stared at her for a moment.