certainly never see him again.
Would she stay?
She glanced at Felix, who was sleeping contentedly
after their brief bout of love-making.
He had given her an orgasm,
kissed her, rolled off her, and told her she was wonderful.
But she
still felt unfulfilled.
This is the man I'm thinking of spending the
rest of my life with.
Am I making a mistake?
It took six months for Jacey to confirm her doubts.
It was a busy six
months.
She saw La Primavera become an open hospital, with Dr.
Rodriguez as senior physician, Ingrid Gustaffsen as his assistant and
Dr.
Sanchez taking over as head of a newly formed interns training
programme.
She saw deals struck with pharmaceutical companies.
She
heard enthusiastic plans for eco-tourism.
She saw the Indians
returning to the rain forest to rebuild their villages.
And she saw Felix Connaught changing.
He was still concerned with the
economy and the rain forest, but now he was Generalissimo Hernandez's
right-hand man.
Lightweight suits had replaced his faded Levis, his
hair was neatly cut, and he wore a watch instead of his metal bracelet.
Jacey saw less of him, and when they met, he was often too tired to
make love.
She realised that he was far more interested in his work
than sex.
Their affair became less and less physical, until they were
living together like a brother and sister.
That's when she knew she had to leave Guachtal.
She kept her promise,
and told him she was going.
He made her give him a contact phone
number, which he tucked into his pocket as he left for a meeting, but
he wasn't able to come and see her off.
Another meeting with
Hernandez, he explained.
Ingrid and Paulo went with her to the
airport.
"Behave yourself," Ingrid said at the barrier.
"And think of us sometimes."
"I'll do better than that," Jacey said.
"As soon as I get a job and make some money, I'll visit you."
"And behave yourself on the journey," Ingrid added.
"No joining the Mile High Club."
Jacey laughed.
"Chance would be a fine thing."
Once inside the plane, she found her seat, and glanced across the
aisle.
An attractive-looking man with an angular face sat reading a
book.
Nice long legs, she thought.
Nice hands.
He sensed her
watching him, and moved his hand so that she could see the book's
title.
Sex in the Twenty-first Century, she read.
He moved his hand
again, so that the title was covered but she could see the author's
name:
Gregory Ballantine.
A stewardess came down the aisle and stopped level with Jacey to speak
to the man.
"I'm sorry we had to move you, Mr.
Ballantine.
Are you sure you're
comfortable there?"
"I'm fine, thanks, just fine," he said.
He smiled across at Jacey. She
smiled back.
This is going to be a very interesting trip, she thought.