Authors: Jeanne Stephens
With all of her being, she yearned to give in to him, to accept what he could offer her. But even with all of her overheated senses crying out for satisfaction, she knew that it would not be enough. His mention of Margarite had only confirmed what she had known all along. She would be another conquest, following in the wake of the Mexican actress and in time followed by the next girl to rouse Derek's senses.
No, it was not nearly enough.
She pulled away, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "No, Derek—"
"Terri?" He looked down at her dazedly.
She had to get away, she thought wildly. She had to get away before she burst into tears and blurted out her true feelings; that would only embarrass both of them.
"I've already explained about Margarite," he said, looking at her with pleading in his eyes. "What more do you want?"
"Something I can't have," she said desperately. Then, with her confidence shattered and her lips throbbing with his kisses, she wrenched open the door and fled across the hall to her room.
A week passed—a week during which Terri buried herself in work. The film taken in the Yucatán was processed, the contact sheets providing numerous top-quality illustrations. As for the mood Derek had wanted her to include in her photographs, she could only guess whether he felt she had lived up to his expectations.
Some of her days were spent entirely alone, as she traveled about the city in search of anything that might be a remote possibility as an illustration for Derek's books. A couple of days she was forced to spend in Derek's company, and these were particularly trying. He seemed as determined as she not to let personal feelings enter into their business relationship. A few times she caught a glimpse of his strong profile rigid with thought, which she could have sworn was centered on something besides his books.
Once, as they were climbing over some Aztec ruins, she stumbled against him and murmured a curt apology as she straightened again. The incident recalled the memories of herself in Derek's arms. For a second, as their bodies touched, there had been a sharp, undeniable reaction deep inside her, a prickle of excitement that she angrily resented.
She did not want to feel anything toward him. He had barged into her life at a time when she was vulnerable and unsure, but now she must force down any but the appropriate feelings of gratitude to him for permitting her to finish the Mexican assignment.
As the fourth week drew to a close, Mike disturbed the carefully built defenses she had constructed around her emotions with a question asked over a shared lunch in the coffee shop.
"Has Derek spoken to you yet about going to Guatemala with us?"
Except for the one time when David Almedo had brought up the subject, Derek had not mentioned again the possibility of their extending the assignment to include Guatemala.
"It's not in my contract," she replied.
Mike's expression clouded momentarily as he tried to rationalize Derek's failure to speak. "You've done a terrific job with the photography so far. Even Derek has said so."
"Not to me he hasn't," Terri said with painful honesty.
"I'm certain he will." Mike laid a sympathetic hand on Terri's arm. "Derek's not stingy with praise when it's deserved."
She shrugged. "It's not important. I'm scheduled to return to New York in two days."
"I take it you and Derek haven't come to any sort of understanding, then, and I think it bothers you more than you will admit. It's been rather obvious the last few days that you're troubled."
Terri's listless glance followed the progress of a group of bedraggled, tired-looking tourists leaving the coffee shop. They appeared to have been run through the wringer and were probably looking forward now to getting back home, where their lives could settle back into routine. Like me, she thought disconsolately, an unexpected pricking of hot tears coming to her eyes.
"Terri?"
Mike's voice sliced through her thoughts and she finally said, "You don't think I have reason to be troubled? Not being permitted to finish the Maya photographs isn't going to look good on my record with Derek's publisher, at least."
"I know he'd take you if you'd only speak to him about it," Mike said earnestly.
"Maybe, but I'm not going to ask for any more humiliation from your boss. My work here is virtually finished. I'm not going to hang around to be told to get lost."
"Don't do anything foolish," Mike begged, probably suspecting that she intended to leave without telling anyone, as she had done in the Yucatán. "At least wait until the day after tomorrow and give Derek the opportunity to ask you to come to Guatemala."
Terri shrank inwardly at the idea. "I don't think I care to be insulted one last time."
"He won't do that," Mike insisted without hesitation. "Derek probably doesn't even realize himself how much he needs you."
He needs you
. Oh, if that were only true, Terri thought, her throat aching. If there was the slightest possibility that they could at least make a success of their professional collaboration, she would swallow the pride she had left and go to him and ask to be permitted to go to Guatemala. But there had been ample opportunity for him to speak to her about it, and he had not.
She managed a shaky laugh as she rose to her feet. "You're kind to say that, Mike, but I don't think I agree with you."
Her arm was gripped firmly as she passed Mike's chair. "I don't know which one of you is the most stubborn. Think carefully before you do anything you might regret, Terri."
Terri wondered at the irony of that last remark as she returned to her room. What could she possibly do that would cause any more regret than she was already feeling?
On her last evening in Mexico City, Terri ventured into the little park that she had observed so often from her hotel room. As usual, several loving couples were occupying benches or strolling arm in arm, and she couldn't help feeling as if she were intruding. But it had suddenly come to her that she would always feel that her stay in the city was incomplete if she didn't go to the park at least once, sit awhile, and see it from an inside perspective. She was grateful that the lovers in the park were so engrossed in each other that they took no notice of her.
She had been sitting on a bench for perhaps a quarter hour, absorbed in a mindless sort of reverie, when a figure stepped from the shadows and sat down beside her. She jumped, her calming, drifting thoughts shattered, and twisted about to face Derek.
Terri's hands began to shake, and she gripped the edge of the bench to steady them. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk to you." There was a deadly calm in his tone.
Bewildered, Terri stared at him searchingly for some moments. For days he had uttered only the barest of terse statements to her, and now he wanted to talk? Was it possible that he regretted treating her so peremptorily? If Derek was concerned about her feelings then… ! Terri gathered her scattered wits about her, clamping down on her thoughts before they became even slightly hopeful.
"What about?"
"Guatemala. I've been waiting for you to show an interest in completing the photography there, but Mike has finally convinced me that you don't intend to say a word to me about it."
During the brief silence that followed, color flushed Terri's cheeks. "Mike… you have been talking to Mike?"
"To put it more accurately, he has been talking to me."
She glanced up at him, and even in the shadowy dimness she could see the grim expression about his mouth. She turned away from him, knowing that something had to be said, yet finding it difficult to give voice to any of the thoughts that were pulling at her heart strings.
"He shouldn't have done that. I talked to Mike in confidence."
"Forget that." He sighed heavily. "It was about time somebody did some talking. You were actually going to get on that plane tomorrow without a word."
"I hadn't counted on our working together becoming so difficult," she replied carefully while her hands nervously gripped the edge of the bench.
"You still don't trust me, do you?" he demanded harshly.
His voice ripped through her fragile composure and she trembled inwardly with the effort to control her tears. "Oh, Derek, trust has nothing to do with it. I want to go home. I want to start to forget…"
Derek frowned heavily. "Forget everything that has happened between us, you mean?" He paused thought-fully. "Terri, if it helps, I'm sorry I tried to push you into something you're obviously not ready for."
Terri's resentment was too strong to shove down any longer. "No, I'm not ready for a casual affair. I don't think I will ever be."
A strained silence greeted her declaration and, as she raised her glance, she noticed how awfully weary he looked, the lines between his eyebrows deeply etched, the strong chin no longer jutting so arrogantly. She wanted desperately to reach out with one last tender gesture and smooth the lines away.
"Terri, is that really what you think of me?" he asked tiredly, bending over to run his hands across his face briefly before he continued. "All right, I admit I was ready to settle for that. There are more than thirteen years separating our ages—you are young and lovely and full of life. You will probably know many men before you decide to settle down. I knew all that, but I still hoped for—something."
Terri's nerves were in such a state of agitation that her teeth chattered. "Derek—" she said haltingly as she threw aside the last remnants of her pride. "I have to know how you feel about us… about me." The confession was made tremulously, desperately.
There seemed to be a new resolve in his lean body as he straightened and placed his hands warmly on her shoulders, unconsciously caressing the hollow at the base of her throat.
"Mike said… can it possibly be true… Terri, do you love me?"
"Yes," she sighed, abandoning her few remaining qualms.
"Then listen to me, darling, and believe that I have never meant anything more. I think I've loved you almost from the moment you stepped off the plane four weeks ago. I didn't know it then, of course. Do you know when I finally did know?"
She shook her head dumbly, feeling delight and wonder begin to bubble inside her.
"That night in that little Mayan village church. I looked at you standing there in front of the altar, and it was like a bolt of lightning striking me—and I knew."
She had felt something that night, too—but she had assumed it was only in her own mind. "Oh, Derek," she whispered in a choked voice as his arms came around her and she weeped as a bright happiness swept through her. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
He pulled her against him, fitting the lines of her body to his own. "I guess I was afraid it would scare you off if you realized how I really felt. Also, I've never said that to a woman before. Until I met you I had about reached the point where I no longer even believed in love. I thought it was just a word people used to excuse irrational behavior." He laughed shakily. "
I've
certainly behaved irrationally at times in the past few weeks."
"We both have," she sighed happily.
His fierce hold on her body eased as his mouth searched for and found hers, and Terri gave in to the clamoring emotions that could not be stayed as she wound her arms around his neck and responded with an urgency equal to his own.
"Terri," he said at length, "will you marry me and go to Guatemala as my wife?"
She stared at him in bewilderment, her emotions threatening to careen completely out of control. "Derek, are you sure… ?"
"I have never," he interrupted earnestly, "been more sure of anything in my life. If I can't have you now—as my wife, permanently—I don't know how I can ever find any meaning in my life again."
Terri's heart lifted with joy, curving the corners of her mouth and flooding her gray-blue eyes with tenderness. "Yes… oh, yes, my darling!"
Her heart constricted at the sudden fire flaming in his eyes. His mouth claimed hers again, warm and demanding against the answering surrender of her lips, his arms pressing her against the hardness of his body.