Lovers and Reprisals (Lovers Series) (29 page)

“I’ll call you.”

When she stepped out of the limo, she strode across the sidewalk as light as a feather.  What manner of booster was this.  She neither knew nor cared.  Her mind and body was in another atmosphere and nothing could deflate her ascension.  To the rear of her, she could hear the limo’s engine and Lucien had not pulled away.  He was there, waiting and watching, and the knowledge of this fed another adrenaline rush.  Ona was steps from the line of people waiting to board the ferry; and among, them at the head of the line, she spotted Geff’s father.  He stared at her, as if he knew.  She chanced looking in the direction of the limo and when she spotted it, parked at the curb; she made a declaration because from here on out, there would be no turning back.  She wanted this experience.  Come what may; she would meet Lucien Delors--and nothing would stop that from happening.  When the ferry docked, her mind had been set and she’d shrugged off a life’s worth of religious studies.

**********

Chapter 14

When I first met you

Mikita stepped off the plane, and the warmth of her island home embraced her.  She had traveled the world but there was no place more inviting than her island home.  Even after all the years she’s spent away, traveling and living on the mainland in the United States; no feeling compared to this.  And those two years spent in Rome; she cringed at the memory and she forced the thought back into submission. 

Mikita recalled the floor plan of the airport then she made her way to the car rental.  She chose an economy sized car because its width would fit into her mothers narrow carport.  She stuffed the trunk with her luggage, then she placed the extra bags in the backseat of the car.  She sat in the drivers seat then she pointed the car in the direction of her childhood home.  This return trip to the past was bittersweet and more than likely, according to the doctors report, this trip would be her last spent with her mother.

She drove along Queens highway, merging into a heavy flow of traffic.  Memories flooded her brain, and she wiped her cheeks of tears.  She would have no parts of wayward sorrows.  She couldn't douse every memory even though she wanted to.  Mikita's father had spent most of his days, shit-faced, ass over teakettle and he’d been irresponsible to boot.  She’d seen pictures of him, and it didn’t take much to understand what had attracted her mother.  Quinton had been a semi-pro surfer and if he wasn’t riding waves on the ocean; in his spare time, he hung out in bars, running up tabs with his groupies.  He didn’t have any ambitions--not even in his chosen sport, and according to her mother, had he paid more attention to surfing, he stood a great chance of going pro, and that’s when the endorsements really paid off.  Despite her mothers poor choice in men; thanks to her grandparents, her bad decision had been barely felt.  Mikita could say this, because when she compared her life to her mother’s; the relationship between her and Morpheus had been doomed from the start.  The only difference that applied to her father and Morpheus was that the Gustafson’s were extremely wealthy.  But money had never been a problem for her or her mother.  Mikita’s grandparents had owned one of the islands most sought after resort destinations, and thanks to their support, she and her mother had wanted for nothing.  Using money from her trust-fund; Mikita had saved enough to invest in her families company and in a short time, she’d earned a place on the board, and shortly after that, she’d earned part ownership.  Thanks to her mother’s good business sense; Mikita and her mother were independently wealthy, and their investments held promise of future growth.  Good business sense had shielded her mother and her as well. 

She drove down a stretch of beach lined with resorts and condos, and her memory took her back to the past.  A time when she was just seventeen and Windermere’s beachfronts had been part new construction, beach shacks and uninhabited stretches of peach sand.  When she spotted the Coral Blue Resort, her brain sent her barreling back into the past.  More than twenty years ago. 

Mikita had been walking along the shoreline wearing a sheer yellow sundress.  Her grand-poppa had been, talking to the construction workers, discussing the changes that were occurring at her families resort.  Mikita had been home-schooled most of her life and her English tutor had been teaching her about the United States of America.  Back then, she’d been a highly impressionable girl and she imagined that her impetuousness had been to blame for her current state.  Her grand-poppa had not noticed when she slipped away, entering a vacant hotel, abandoned and partially constructed.  She’d walked inside, even though she’d been instructed to remain on the beach but she had disobey, out of spite or perhaps girlish ignorance; she couldn’t say which had guided her actions.  While exploring the building, she’d gotten lost.  And when she was at the point of crying out; that’s when Morpheus had stumbled upon her.  He’d been a young representative, scouting the area for one of his family’s many companies.  He’d watched from across the street on the beach, and he’d noticed her when she entered the vacant building.  From the start, he’d been enamored by her.  He’d followed her, keeping her in his sights, but remaining hidden to her.  When she called out for help, that’s when he stepped out of the shadows.  At the time, it didn’t dawn on her, that he’d followed her inside.  Mikita had been so grateful to be found, she fawned all over him.  Then, like most things do; one thing led to another.  After he led her out and back onto the beach, she joined up with her grand-poppa, hiding a business card with a phone number in her hand.  Later that evening, she’d called the number, and she couldn’t recall if it had been his English accent or his mature sophistication; whatever it was about him that intrigued her, she found herself agreeing to sneak away from her home to meet him.  She traveled across the Island, going to a point that was known for its large palatial estates.  When she arrived, she couldn’t believe the size of the property and at every turn something astonishing would catch her eye.  She had not been prepared to entered that kind of world and her naiveté made her ripe for the pickings.  Morpheus charmed her with an array of erotic delicious meals; pleasing to the eye, and known for heightening sexual urges.  Each dish was a delicacy and at times, he would reach across the table to hand feed her.  She had not needed any prodding because her body naturally leaned in to be closer to him.  She’d brazenly stared at him, enthralled by his dark handsome Italian features.  There had been no talk of age, or permission.  He’d called his staff, then rattled off a vintage of wine, speaking in fluent Italian.  He’d filled their glasses repeatedly, and she didn’t turn down his offers.  She could still recall the bitter sweet taste of the wine, and the way the fermented grapes made her feel.  She could even remember the sound of the music, softly flowing throughout the houses speaker system.  If she could have bottled the moment, she would have and she had relived that day a thousand times, even though Bolden had been the only good thing that came from that time.  While the music played, Morpheus had stood, and he guided her to stand in front of him.  He had snaked his arms around her narrow waist, then he pulled her body close to dance with him.  The smell of his musk and the feel of his rock hard body had been all to much for a young impressionable girl.  Her brain screamed at her to go, but her feet wouldn’t run for the door.  She had lifted her eyes, and her gaze got caught in his web.  He lowered his head, and she parted her lips, welcoming his tongue.  She remembered the touch and feel of his silky thick black hair.  She had run her fingers through the strands, and this action had been no different than tossing gasoline on a flaming bonfire.  She couldn’t say with any degree of certainty which event preceded the other because shortly after she’d raked her fingers in his hair; Morpheus had lifted her off the ground.  He deepened the kiss, charming and seducing her, until they ended up in his bedroom.  She remembered dark rich colors and a large open space.  And the bed; she’d never seen anything larger than his bed.  He’d been eleven years older than her and the entire affair had been hot, sexy and a first for Mikita.  It was also supposed to be a secret--one that she would keep to herself.  That summer, before her mother found out about her dating a much older man, Mikita had met Morpheus at one of her favorite places.  The spot wasn’t a great tourist attraction, because at the time, it had not been all that easy getting there.  Usually, she would wear pants, but on this trip, she’d wore a long sheer white dress, to please Morpheus.  They had spent five wonderful weeks together and he was due to leave in two days.  White had been his favorite color and she wore the dress because she wanted him to take a special memory with him.  When she walked through the trees and he caught sight of her; he rushed at her so fast, he nearly took her breath away on impact.  They had stumbled backwards, ending up beneath a cascading flow of water.  While the waterfall drenched them, Morpheus had ripped off her dress, then he’d peel out of his own clothing.  The island air had been hot and wanting and her nearness had sent him to a place that even he couldn’t make peace with.  He had told her that he didn’t want to leave her, and then there was her age to consider.  She was seventeen--not old enough to make decisions without consulting her mother.  He spoke his doubts, while pressing her into the rock surface, then penetrating her with an all consuming force that tore her insides.  They clung to each other on that day, and when they walked down the hill; she wore his shirt because her dress had not resembled the outfit she’d arrived in.  They stood near his car, and that’s when she told him.  That’s when she said the two words that altered the course of her life. 

“I’m late.” 

After hearing that, he didn’t leave as planned, and her mother and grand parents had been their next stop.  Many hearts had been broken on that day.  She had begged her mother not to call the police and Morpheus promised that he would take care of her and his child.  It had taken weeks of persuading and she was certain that her tiny puffed out belly had given her mother pause.  On the next day, she packed her clothes and left the Island with Morpheus.  The plan had been to return to Bermuda after the birth of their child.  They would have a wonderful beach wedding, and her entire family would join in on the celebration.  That had been the plan--but that wasn’t what had happened.  Mikita’s cousin had joined her on the mainland to be with her during the birth of her baby.  Alexis, had even stayed in one of the guest rooms; the same room that she found her cousin and Morpheus, carelessly making love; and only weeks had passed since the birth of her son.  She’d just been eighteen, alone and away from her family.  The humiliation had been beyond anything she would ever experience in her life.  That had been a difficult time, and when she’d made up her mind to leave Morpheus; she’d left his home, taking their son Bolden without once looking back.  Her mother had reminded her that she didn’t need his money and that she would be better off living on her own.  And she did live without him, or his outlandish grand offers to win her back.  His betrayal had forced her to grow up, and be the woman she’d been destined to be, and after the tears dried, and her hatred for him didn’t sicken her stomach; Mikita accepted some of his offerings.  She’d done this because acknowledging him had been the wise thing to do.  Also, she did it to overt his seedier traps.  Then, there had been her run in with Camilla.  The mother of his daughter.  The woman Morpheus had neglected to tell her about.  The woman who’d threatened to kill her, if she didn’t take her scrawny ass back to the islands.  Mikita recalled that day, because that’s when she’d caught her first sight of Fawn and oh what a mess of a day that had been.  She sighed because she’d been so trusting, and Morpheus had played her for a fool.  She closed her eyes when the car came to a stop and it didn’t pass her notice, that she’d relived that part of her life during the entire drive.  But she could put that all behind her because she was at her mothers home.  For now she could escape from the reality of her life.  Here on her island home, she could pretend that she wasn’t considering certain offers that came from an extremely dangerous and powerful man.  A person who’d intrigued her when she’d been just seventeen--and still managed to send her off balanced.

She stared into darkness, shaking her head, and wondering why her cousin’s had not changed the blown out bulb in her mother’s carport.  Over the years, it had been instances like this that fed her worry.  She’d begged her mother to come to
Colorado and live with her.  She opened the door, and was met by a comfortable cool heat.  The perfect temperature for skinny dipping.  When she stood, she turned at the sound of her name.

“Mikita?”

She heard the voice but in this surrounding, it didn’t compute with her brain.

Morpheus came out of the shadows, and his face was lit by a partially exposed moon.  He met her surprised expression with a smile.  His voice sounded rested, almost as if he’d been here for days, or had arrived hours ahead of her.  He rounded the car, joining her where she stood, stunned.

He said...

"When I learned that Ernestine was ill, I had to come and see her." 

Behind him, she heard the sound of feet, padding across a wooden deck.  Her mother turned on two exterior lights, and with the illumination came clarity.  Mikita's mother glared at her when she said...

"And you waisted money on airfare when you could have flown here for nothing on his airplane."

It goes without saying, during the passage of years, Morpheus had repaired the rift between him and her mother.  In fact, she never spoke an ill word about him.  Mikita closed the drivers side door.  She moved passed Morpheus, then made her way up the path to hug her mother.  She was frail; and she’d lost more weight--and as small as she was, she couldn’t afford to lose another ounce.