Iris Johansen: A Summer Smile

“You’re damn right.” The rhythm began again, deep and lazy but just as thrilling. “That was one of my very favorite daydreams. Loving you.” His words were punctuated with a thrusting movement that took her breath away. “And loving you. Over and over. Deeper and deeper. Sweeter and sweeter. Hotter and…”

She didn’t know how much later it was when she felt his kiss on her temple. She was lying in perfect contentment, her head on his shoulder, watching moonlight filter through the fretted window across the room. The lamp was out now and there was only the darkness, the moonlight, and Daniel.

“Well, have you decided, old friend?” he asked softly.

“Decided?”

“Whether it’s the end of the world or the beginning?”

She cuddled closer. “Oh, the beginning.” Re-birth, sunrise, the world remade in his arms. “Definitely the beginning, Daniel.”

Those blissful feelings of renaissance and warm contentment were still with her when she opened her eyes a few hours later. It was the gray hour before dawn and she was tempted to close her eyes and go back to sleep. It was so lovely to be held like this in Daniel’s arms. She snuggled closer and felt those arms tighten around her in unconscious possession.

Last night had been wonderful and Daniel so loving. Even though no words of commitment had been spoken, surely their loving meant something. His words, when he had made love to her, had been of passion and possession. Still, later, when passion was spent, he had been so marvelously gentle and caring that hope had sprung into full bloom. But she mustn’t ask for too much. She had been given the lovely seeds of friendship and desire. She would nourish them well and pray that they would grow into love.

The room was cool. Zilah pulled the sheet higher to cover Daniel’s shoulders, careful not to wake him. She closed her eyes. Then they flicked open as a sudden memory pierced the mists of contentment. Pandora. She felt like groaning aloud. Oh, damn, it was almost dawn, and Pandora would be at the stables waiting for her.

And if she didn’t go, there was every chance that Pandora would take Oedipus out again. Not that she could prevent it anyway, she thought crossly. However, there was no question that she had to try. Not only was there the possibility of Pandora being physically hurt riding the big stallion, but even if that didn’t occur, Philip was sure to be angry enough to completely devastate the girl verbally.

Although he had been surprisingly indulgent with Pandora the night before, she remembered with a touch of speculation. In fact, Zilah had been astounded at the sheikh’s gentleness with Pandora. There had been a rapport between them that would have been noticeable to even the most casual onlooker.

She didn’t want to think about Philip or Pandora or anything but Daniel right now, dammit. If she had any sense, she would leave Pandora to her own willful pursuits and their consequences. She sighed in discouragement because even as she gave herself this very sensible advice she was cautiously removing Daniel’s arm from around her and slipping out of the bed. She knew she couldn’t do that. She cared about Pandora. The girl might be wild and willful, but there was an eagerness and generosity about her that were completely endearing. Zilah couldn’t just ignore the fact that there was every chance Pandora would get into trouble if she wasn’t there to prevent it.

Perhaps she would be back before Daniel awoke, she thought wistfully. She quickly grabbed underthings, jeans, a long-sleeved white sweatshirt, and her boots from the closet and then disappeared into the bathroom. However, with Pandora there was no telling. She’d better leave Daniel a note.

A short time later she was crossing the stableyard. The sun still hadn’t risen, though there were faint lavender streaks piercing the blue-gray clouds. She loved this time of the morning when the world was so silent that she could hear her footsteps on the soft turf. It reminded her of the many times she and Jess Bradford had risen at this hour and ridden out in the predawn mornings at the ranch. There was something about the quiet and serenity of this time of day that bred a comfortable companionship, a silent joining of the spirit.

She knew at once, when she caught sight of Pandora leaning against the fence, staring blindly out into the pasture, that there would be no serene, companionable ride this morning.

Pandora was dressed in her customary riding garb of jeans and dark ribbed sweater but that was all that was usual about her. Pandora’s back was to her and Zilah couldn’t read the expression on her face, but it was scarcely necessary. That back was braced with a tense rigidity as if to bear some torturous strain. She could almost see the effort the girl was making to retain control.

“Pandora?”

Pandora didn’t turn around. “I saddled up Dancing Lady for you. She’s still in the stall. I wasn’t sure when you’d be coming. I thought I’d wait around until you got here though.” She laughed shakily. “I didn’t want you to think I’d stood you up.”

“Pandora, what’s wrong?” Zilah had drawn next to the girl and was gazing searchingly at her averted face. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing much.” Pandora’s slim, nervous hands tightened on the bars of the fence. “It’s just turned out that I’m not going to be around here anymore. I’m going away this morning. Philip gave me the good news when he drove me home last night. I’m to be whisked away in Philip’s helicopter to Marasef and put on a plane for England. Isn’t that exciting?”

“England?” Zilah echoed, shocked. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you?” Pandora asked tautly. “Philip says that the private schools in England are very good. He’s sending me to his agent in London, who’s going to find just the right one for me. Philip’s specified that it have a fine stable and that it specialize in training Olympic equestrian candidates. Isn’t that absolutely wonderful?”

“But why so suddenly? He didn’t seem at all angry last night.”

“You don’t understand.” Pandora’s words were coming with feverish rapidity. “This isn’t a punishment. He’s only doing what’s best for me. That’s what he said. ‘This is what’s best for you, Pandora.’ He kept saying that over and over. He wouldn’t listen to me.” One hand released the bar and balled into a fist that turned her knuckles white. “He wouldn’t listen to me.”

“What about your father? Doesn’t he have anything to say about this?”

“I told you, he does anything Philip tells him to do. If Philip told him to send me to darkest Africa to make a meal for the cannibals, he would do it.”

“England isn’t so bad,” Zilah said gently. “Perhaps this will be best for you. Why don’t you give it a chance? Philip must have thought it was, or he wouldn’t be sending you away.” She felt achingly sorry for the girl. She wanted to reach out and hold her, comfort her, but that control was too fragile. It might shatter at any moment.

Pandora muttered a curse that was charged with pain. “That’s not the reason he’s sending me away,” she said with a violence that had a touch of desperation. “I was coming too close. Philip won’t let anyone come too close. He knew I’d never stop trying to make him-” She broke off and drew a deep shaky breath. “I knew that, when he was giving me all that hogwash about doing what was best for me. He just wanted to get the kid away and out of his life. He’d be safe then.” She shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t even know it himself.”

“Well, if you can’t do anything-”

“The hell I can’t!” Pandora turned to face her, and Zilah experienced a shock at the agony in the young girl’s face. Agony and a relentless purpose. Her dark eyes were glowing with an almost incandescent strength. “He can send me away but he can’t make my choices as to how I run my life. He can keep his wonderful school. I’ll find my own way.” She closed her eyes. “And it will be my way. I’ll get over this pain,” she whispered. “You’ll see, I’ll get over it.” She opened her eyes that were glittering with unshed tears. “Good-bye, Zilah. I’ll try to keep in touch.”