Iris Johansen: A Summer Smile

“I know that.” Pandora’s eyes were misty. “It’s not fair to take away a wild thing’s freedom just because we want to love and keep it close to us. It wouldn’t be right.”

There was an odd look on Philip’s face. “No, it wouldn’t be right,” he repeated in an abstracted way. He glanced down at the cub in her arms and reached out to take it from her. “I’ll give your friend to Raoul to care for until we can make arrangements to transport him.”

“No.” Pandora took a hasty step backward. “I’ll take him to Raoul. He gets a little excited sometimes. He might scratch you.”

His gaze was on the gauze bandage on her forearm. “So I see. I take it that’s a souvenir from this harmless little baby?”

She nodded, a grimace on her face.

“Yet I’m not to be allowed to take my chances?” he asked with a curious smile.

“That’s different.” She shrugged. “He sort of belongs to me.”

“Not so different,” he said softly. He took the cub and held him gently but firmly. “ You sort of belong to me.” He turned away so that he didn’t see the radiance that dawned on her face. “Get your things together. I’m sending you back to your father for the time being. I think we all agree that this punishment detail wasn’t exactly a success.” He had climbed the two steps of the tub and was striding toward Zilah, his expression as cynical and inscrutable as ever. “I’ll be back for you in twenty minutes.” He paused beside Zilah to give her a slightly crooked smile. “I still think there was magic used, Miss Dabala, but I’m not sure which one of you was the spellweaver. You must be a good deal more softhearted than most women to let Pandora talk you into this particular madness. By the way, I forgot to give you a message from Daniel.” For an instant there was a touch of lingering amusement in his eyes. “I don’t know how it slipped my mind. It seems three of your former captors have been apprehended, but Hassan is still at large. Daniel is waiting for a phone call with more information, so he won’t be able to join you for dinner. He said he’d stop by later.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, and she turned from watching the door close behind him to see that Pandora hadn’t moved from where Philip had left her. Her face was still wearing that expression of sunrise glory and Zilah felt a shiver of fear run through her. Pandora experienced emotions with more intensity than anyone she had ever known. How could she help but be hurt?

“Don’t be so happy,” Zilah whispered. “Don’t let him mean so much to you, Pandora. It’s not safe.”

“What is safe in this world?” Pandora shrugged. “I’d rather be happy now and perhaps unhappy tomorrow than take a chance on not being happy at all. I can’t live like that.” She hoisted herself to the edge of the tub and got to her feet. “I have to get my things from the guest room next door. I don’t want to keep Philip waiting. He may have time to reconsider and realize he’s really furious about Androcles.” She grinned cheerfully. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at five at the stables. Now that I’m off restriction, I’ll have to find out if Oedipus has missed me.”

Zilah shook her head. “Pandora, won’t you ever learn? You know riding Oedipus is stupid.”

The grin faded from Pandora’s face and something raw and painful flared in its place. “You’re the one who is stupid,” she said fiercely. “You want Daniel Seifert. You have all the weapons to get him and you’re not doing anything about it.” Her hands clenched at her sides. “ You’re not helpless. You could do something. But you’re afraid to take the chance of losing what you’ve got. Now, that’s stupid.”

Zilah felt she must look as stunned as Philip when he’d seen Androcles in the bathtub. Only this tigress wasn’t at all cuddly and knew exactly where to strike for maximum effect.

There was a flicker of remorse on Pandora’s face and she gave Zilah an awkward hug as she passed her on the way to the door. “Sorry,” she muttered. “But it’s true. Every bit of it is true.” She opened the door. “Think about it.”

There wasn’t any question that she’d do that, Zilah thought dazedly. She supposed she should be thinking about the news Philip had given her concerning Hassan, but it had barely registered. The danger and despair she had known at his hands now seemed a million miles away. The only thing that was real and pertinent was Daniel. She moved like a sleepwalker across the room to the fretted window to stare blindly out at the distant hills which were wreathed in the purple mists of dusk.

Was she afraid? Had she grabbed at the straw of friendship Daniel had extended because she so desperately wanted him to stay in her life at any cost? There was even the possibility that she did have subconscious doubts of her own self-worth, as Daniel had suggested. Had she felt she didn’t deserve his love? Pandora had said he desired her. Yet, if that was true, why had he rejected her when she had offered herself this morning? Daniel was the most direct and basic of men and had no use for hypocrisy. No, Pandora must have been mistaken.

But he had wanted her before. That night in the cave he had wanted her with an intensity of passion that had seemed incredible. Perhaps if she tried she could make him feel like that again. But how did a woman go about tempting a man? She would probably be laughable in the role of temptress. Perhaps she’d better be content with…

No! She was being as cowardly as Pandora had accused her. In only a few days Daniel would probably be taking her home to Zalandan. After that, who knew when she would see him again? A mistress had a much more potent draw than a mere friend. It was better to risk rejection than to sit meekly by with her hands folded, waiting for Daniel to leave her. Surely there was something she could do that would make her more desirable in his eyes. She turned away from the window to cross to the wing chair by the bed. She sat down and leaned her head back, her expression both intent and abstracted. Pandora was right. She had a good deal of thinking to do.

Zilah didn’t answer the door at the first knock. Daniel was about to knock again and then hesitated. It was after eleven. Perhaps she had given up on him and gone to bed.

Then the door swung open and Zilah was standing there. At least he hadn’t gotten her out of bed. She was wearing a white satin tailored robe and her feet were bare, but there was still a light burning on the bedside table, and her eyes were alert and wide awake as she gazed up at him.

“I know it’s late, but Clancy just called back. I was going to wait until morning, but I didn’t want to take the chance of your worrying about it all night.”

“Clancy?” she asked vaguely. Then she stepped back and away from the door. “Oh, yes, Hassan. It was very kind of you to stop by. Come in.”

He hesitated. Then he entered the room and closed the door. “They weren’t able to get any more information out of the others regarding Hassan’s whereabouts. Clancy thinks they really don’t know.” He smiled grimly. “They would have spilled their guts if they had.”

“That’s too bad.” Zilah nervously brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Do you think he’s still around here?”

“If he is, he won’t get near you,” he said gently. “You don’t have to be frightened.”

“I’m not frightened.”

She was frightened. He had seen the slight trembling of her hand as she brushed a shining strand of hair away from her face and the quickened pulse in the hollow of her throat. He took an impulsive step forward, his hands reaching out to cup her shoulders. He could feel the warm silkiness of her skin beneath the thin robe and knew immediately that the impulse to comfort had been a mistake. He forced himself to keep his grasp light and impersonal. “He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him touch you. No one will touch you.”