The Accidental Mistress (21 page)

"Sometimes we can't see what's right in
front of us," he agreed.

They ate in silence. The food was that good
and the silence had become ever-so comfortable, not the kind he
felt obliged to disturb. When he was done he wanted to sleep,
stretch out in the cooling breeze of the rain forest with the smell
of raspberries and ripening banana’s filling his nostrils. She must
have felt the same. She lay back next to him and together they
stared up at the swaying leaves on long upward stretched
branches.

Christophe couldn't pass on the opportunity
to get close to her. He eased over and lifted on his elbow to stare
down at her. A hot ache grew in his throat as he opened his mouth
to say something witty. He closed his mouth, realizing that he
didn't know the words to express what was running through his
head.

Zuri’s lids lowered. Now, she was only
marginally aware of his struggles. Still, it didn't make him
braver. In fact, he had to admit he questioned himself constantly
when she was near. He wanted to make her crave him. That desire
grew stronger and stronger. It was enough for him to consider her
crazy proposal of a merger. Something Montague has never done,
especially with a small independent operation like the Oasis that
he suspected was mismanaged.

Christophe gazed down at her and she
continued to observe him through lowered lashes. She lay with her
arms folded behind her head and her ankles crossed. All of her was
petite and flowerlike. The rise of her breast as they strained
against her cotton shirt, her curved hips that made the shorts hug
and fit sweetly added to her beauty. Under the sun, her cinnamon
brown thighs glistened with such radiance he couldn't help but
touch her.

She had fine hips and shapely thighs, just
as he liked on a woman. He glanced up to her face, wondering if his
touch disturbed her. She wore a hint of a smile that indicated it
didn't.

Now he could see her face without the fear
of her thinking him weird for staring. Her high exotic cheekbones,
delicately carved features, full lips made her strikingly different
than the women who filled his bed. Before his vow of celibacy, he
had, known and enjoyed many. And even with Gabriella, his passions
never scratched the surface of the raw desire Zuri stirred in him.
Maybe it was because she denied him the pleasure. There weren't
many things in life denied him, which might explain his perpetual
state of boredom.

Christophe continued to caress her thigh,
and maneuvered his fingers under the trim of her shorts. Her lashes
swept downward and rested on her cheeks. She had a chin of iron
determination. The duality of her strength and fragility made him
desire her desperately. To touch her had been a privilege. So felt
gentle and he became careful to not raise her ire once more. He
brought his hand up and traced a finger from the small dimple
between her brow. Slowly his finger went down her slender nose to
the tip, and then over her lips, which was her second best feature
next to her eyes.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Zuri?"

She smiled. Thankfully her eyes remained
closed or else she would truly see the effect she had on him.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" asked Zuri.

"No." he said.

"No." she replied.

"Why?" he asked. He wasn't sure he could
believe that she didn't. She wasn't just the regular kind of beauty
that made men want to touch her. She was that kind of beauty that
made men want to posses her. He may have been an idiot but he felt
certain there were plenty other men that knew what a prize she
was.

"School," she mumbled.

"School? I thought you were done with
school?"

"I finished law school. I was supposed to
take the bar next week."

Christophe sat up. "Will you?"

She opened her eyes. A frown marred her
pretty features. She stared at him. “No.”

"Why?"

"Why do you think? My father had a stroke.
Haven't you been paying attention to anything I've said to you?"
She got to her feet, and threw her hands in the air. Suddenly she
was angry, and damn it to hell she was again angry at him. "My life
isn't my own, especially if you take away our company. How we make
it from here, I don't know. It'll kill my father."

"I... didn't know."

"Right, because you didn't care to
know."

"That's not true."

"Really? So you care? How much?"

"Enough to want to help you, Zuri, but that
doesn't mean I give you what you want. I'm not here for that."

"Then why are you here!"

Christophe felt his own anger surfacing.
Maybe she wasn't that different from all the other women. All of
them wanted something. "I'm beginning to wonder that myself."

"Let's not discuss it now.
It's time to go." She snatched up her things and packed them. He
had pushed too many buttons, but at least now he confirmed the
source of her pain and her interest in him. It was the one she
called
père
—
her father. Christophe shook out the
blanket. He folded then tucked it in his pack, taking time to grab
another bottle of water. It was a cooling refreshment and he drank
from it until the plastic bottle collapsed in the center. He
followed her through the raspberries. Though she stumped through
the bushels, he stooped and picked some berries, tossing them into
his mouth. He had never tasted anything so sweet. He grabbed a few
more and caught up with her. Soon they were back on the trail, and
after another hour of walking he ached in his thighs and at the
soles of his feet. The hike put a strain on muscles he didn't know
existed. Under the crunch of dry grass and leaves, Christophe
thought he heard what sounded like rushing water. He looked around
and couldn't tell where it was coming from. The rain forest had
closed in on them once more. Tree monkeys shook the branches above
them.

"Zuri, are there rapids near by?"

"Waterfalls, a few of them. But we aren't
going that way. Keep up."

"Would you slow down please?"

She didn't. Christophe fast walked to catch
her and now maintained her pace at her side. "I wasn't being
insensitive back there. I said I wanted to help you and I do."

"So are you going to call off the
acquisition?"

"How does that help? The bank will collect
whether I do or not."

"My proposal. The merger. It’s a fair
proposal."

"Is it? From where I stand you benefit, not
Montague."

"What an arrogant way to
say things
—
"

"Hey, I'm being honest."

"And a little too smug. We may not be Global
like your company but we cater to a market that you need if you
want to expand in the Caribbean."

"Fine, let's not fight. I need the
facts."

"You have the facts. The bank has given you
everything."

"I'm not a idiot, Zuri. The
bank doesn't know what put you in financial crisis. It just knows
that you don't pay your bills. I want to know what the Blue Oasis
profit margin truly is against your yearly spend. I need to see how
you manage things day to day. You're covering up something, and
until I know what it is
—
"

"I'll grant you access," she mumbled,
leaving his side.

"Zuri. wait, let me
exp
—
"

Zuri stopped, and he nearly collided with
her. She pushed him back. Her hand went behind her to warn him to
remain silent. At first Christophe thought she might have seen some
wild animal. He had no idea what animals lived in these forests,
but he imagined poisonous snakes and spiders were in all the trees,
maybe big cats like jaguars or leopards? Then he heard what stopped
her, movement to the east. They waited.

I don't have a weapon and she's barely over
five feet three standing in front of me, this is crazy.

A young boy stepped out of the trees. He had
burnished brown skin like Zuri and curly thick afro. He wore
tattered clothes, and no shoes. And in his hand was a shotgun aimed
at them both. Christophe immediately grabbed Zuri by the waist and
forced her behind him.

The young boy, maybe fifteen at the most,
yelled something at Zuri. Christophe's French was rusty but he was
certain he heard him the boy tell them to hand over their packs.
Zuri refused, trying to step around Christophe, but he kept pushing
her back with his arm.

"What did he say?"

The boy lifted the gun and aimed. "It's
okay, here, we'll give you what you want."

"No, Christophe! Don't."

Christophe immediately
stepped toward the boy, being sure to put himself between Zuri and
the gunman. He eased off his backpack. Zuri spoke in patois, and
the boy yelled his defiance. None of it made sense and the added
mix of the rifle had Christophe wanting to act. But how? And more
importantly why was Zuri challenging the kid. The idea of her being
hurt overwhelmed his sensibility. With the pack in his hands, he
gestured to pass it to the kid. The boy lowered the gun, but he
continued to yell angrily at Zuri.
Did
they know each other?
Christophe seized the
moment. He threw the backpack at the kid who surprised, dropped the
gun and fell. Christophe snatched up the gun as the boy scrambled
away, and before he could stop him he was on his feet and running
back through the bush.

"Why would you do that? You could have been
killed," Zuri exclaimed coming to his side. "Are you okay? He
didn't shoot you did he?"

"No. Wait, this is a pellet gun." Christophe
turned over the rifle. It had expelled it's only round.

"His name is Pierre. I know his brothers. He
was trying to scare you.

"Are you kidding me? What the hell is he
doing with this thing? I thought you people didn't allow any of
these weapons on the island?"

"You people?" Zuri frowned.

Christophe rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean
it that way, I'm saying Martinican's. I thought weapons like these
are banned?"

"They are. Who knows how he got it. The
other day in Sainte Marie I heard a gun go off. Maybe it was that
thing. We'll turn it in to the gendarmerie. They’ll deal with
him."

"Is he following us?"

"You scared him off. He's probably halfway
down the mountain now."

"That's a comforting thought."

"I'm really disappointed in him. He's a good
boy. Why he would do this I don't know. I hope he hasn't robbed any
other tourists," she said. Christophe picked up his pack and
followed her.

"What were you two yelling about?" he
asked.

Zuri shrugged. "I told him I would tell his
brothers. He said it was my family fault they left for Guadalupe to
find work. We've had to make cuts on the staff."

They walked for another thirty minutes in
silence. The sweltering heat, as they crossed open fields, had his
face and neck burning. Christophe was about to call for another
break, when she stopped. "We're here."

"Where is here?" he looked around.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Hot."

She surprised him again by touching his
chest, then his arms. "Are you sore? Your legs, your feet?"

"Ah, I guess."

"Where I'm about to take you will heal all
your pain. It's a part of the island that only Martinican’s visit.
This is a privilege Christophe. We don't share it with tourists, do
you understand?"

"Okay," he nodded.

"North of Martinique
is
Montagne Pelée,
what we call the 'bald mountain where the black and grey
beaches are. South, is where the white sand beaches are, and some
of the most accessible springs."

"Springs?"

"See there?" she pointed. He saw nothing at
first. He stepped forward and saw a steep narrow path that dipped
through some thick foliage. "What is it?"

"The way we go down will be on our
backsides. Don't worry about how we get back. I know a short
cut."

"Then why didn't we take the short cut?"

"Because you have to earn your entrance. It
makes you more appreciative. I think you're ready now. Be careful.
Take your time."

Christophe groaned. His big frame would
barely squeeze in the three-foot wide opening. But he'd come to far
to give up now. Zuri went first. She dropped on her butt and angled
her body as if she were to slide down. Then she was gone.
Christophe went after her. He realized that it was indeed a dipping
slide of sorts, paved in moist dirt. He eased down. Just as he went
for it his hand slipped and he found himself sliding several feet
through the bush. He regained control half way in and used the
heels of his shoes to brake his descent. To his relief, he scooted
the rest of the way.

He emerged. Zuri waited patiently for him.
Behind her was a waterfall, cascading between a black rock. To his
right was an open crater the size of a small pool. Steam hovered
over the top and he soon realized it was filled with water.

"Look, Christophe."

His eyes lifted to the wall of rocky cliffs
lining the hot spring. Once he focused, he was able to see Native
American petroglyph's of animals and a woman who looked to be in
the position of giving birth. Her knees were up and a smaller
figure looked to be emerging between. "Is that, real?"

Zuri nodded. "Authentic? Yes it is, I think
this was a place of fertility. Isn't it amazing how preserved it
is? Thousands of years before occupation, the caribs lived and
thrived here. Reminds you of what Martinique once was."

"Its amazing," he said in awe.

"You don't know amazing yet, but you will.
Beneath us, in the depth of the earth is a vein of lava flowing
from the sleeping volcano. Its heat rises and warms this spring and
ones like it. These waters can soothe any ache, any pain."