Mardi Gras Masquerade (10 page)

“A Southern tradition,” the man said in a confidential tone.

“I thought hospitality was a Southern tradition,” Maria retorted.

“It is.
 
Do you have any problems with your accommodations?”

“Well, no.
 
I could really like this place if I didn’t feel like a prisoner here.”

“You’re a prisoner of love, Maria,” Steve sensuously replied.

“We’ll see about that.”

Maria took a few more sips of her drink.
 
The alcohol in it had already begun to relax her.
 
It had been several hours since she had eaten anything, and this made the effect more immediate.

There was a smile in Steve’s eyes as he watched her.
 
He drank some of his own mint julep.

Unexpectedly, he asked, “What do you think of
Louisiana
?”

Maria sat back in her chair and replied, “It’s everything I thought it would be.”

“And what was that?”

“Nothing really specific.
 
I’ve read books, seen movies . . .”
 

Maria let her sentence dwindle off.

“How would you compare it to the North?”

“It’s warmer here.
 
I like the river and
New Orleans
.”

“What about my house?”

Maria took a few more sips, and then rested her head back against the chair’s cushion before answering.

“It’s beautiful . . . like a dream setting I imagined.”

“You’ve dreamed about
livin
’ here?”

Steve’s voice was a husky drone that made Maria’s sense of relaxation deepen even further.
 
The drink had made her feel light-headed.
 
Her host thought that this might happen since he had made the drinks double strength.

“Oh, yes,” Maria airily replied, “in a big, old house on the
Mississippi
.”

“All by yourself?”

“Don’t be silly.
 
Do you think girls dream about living alone?”

“What was your fantasy man like?”

“I told you that already.”

“You did, but I can’t picture some desert sheik carrying you away to his tent in
Louisiana
.”

Maria giggled.
 
She started to feel giddy.

“That was another fantasy.”

“Do you have many fantasies, Maria?” Steve asked in a low voice.

“I used to.”

“Tell me about them.”

“No.
 
I don’t want to think about that now.”

“Why not?”

Maria heaved out a long sigh, and then replied, “Because somewhere along the line, my dreams became confused with reality.”

“Since you met me?”

The man had pressed her too far.
 
Maria sat up in her chair and looked at him before she set her drink back on the low table between them.

“You lied to me,” she said.
 
“There’s a lot more alcohol in this drink than you led me to believe.”

Steve smiled and looked away.

“It looks like you’ve caught me,” he said.

“Why did you do this?”

“To help you relax.
 
You do feel better now; don’t you?”

“I care less about what I say, but you can bet that I’ll be more careful in the future about taking drinks from strangers.”

“Are we still strangers?”

“More or less.”

“Who are you, Maria?”

This question cleared the vapors away from Maria’s mind.
 
It could be a dangerous question, and she had to answer it carefully.

“I don’t know any more,” she said.
 
“Who are you?”

“You asked me that when we first met.”

“Answer me anyway.”

“I’m your fiancé’s brother; right?”

“That’s what you told me, and I have to believe you.”

“Why should you believe anything I say?”

“Stop asking me so many questions,” the girl replied in irritation.

Steve studied Maria’s face for a moment, and then lapsed into silence.

The woman surprised him by saying, “Let
me go, Steve.
 
I want to go home.”

He considered this for a few seconds, and then replied, “You might be home right now.”

Shaking her head, Maria responded, “This is only a dream.”

She closed her eyes.
 
Silently, Steve got up and walked over to stand in front of her.
 
With a soft, smooth movement, he leaned down to place his hands on her shoulders.
 
When Maria did not resist him, his hold on her tightened and he drew her to her feet.

Maria opened her eyes for a second.
 
She felt too mixed up to believe that this could be happening.
 
All of the last two days had been unreal, and if it was not, she did not want to think about it now.
 
She closed her eyes again.
 
Steve stared intently at her face.

“Are you Tienne’s woman?” he asked softly.

“I have to be,” Maria barely whispered.

“That’s a lie.”

The man pulled her roughly against him and lowered his face until his lips met hers.
 
Maria threw back her head, but that was the only movement she made.
 
With one hand, Steve cupped the back of her head and brought her lips back to his.

He plunged down to savor their inviting warmth.
 
Maria sighed as he took control of her mouth.
 
Her body pressed against his, but her mouth did not respond until he touched her teeth with his tongue.
 
This set fire to her dreamlike languor.

With quiet, yet unmistakable passion, Maria reached up to draw Steve closer to her as she responded to his kiss.
 
The man fiercely demanded more, and she did not deny him.

All of a sudden, he pushed her away from him.

“What?” Maria asked in confusion, opening her eyes.

Steve stared at her with an unfathomable look on his face, and then quickly walked though the open doors of her bedroom.
 
Maria stood there, agape, as she heard the door to the hallway slam shut.

The stupor of intoxication left her body.
 
She could not believe what had happened.
 
All she felt now was shame and remorse.
 
It was impossible to move.

To her further amazement, she heard the door open again.
 
Steve stepped back onto the balcony.
 
Maria could not interpret his expression as he looked down at the floor.
 
She waited for him to speak.

“Dinner will be served in the
dinin
’ room in half an hour,” he said softly, without looking up.
 
“Let’s forget what happened.
 
The drink was a little strong, that’s all.
 
You’ll feel better after you eat.”

Without waiting for her to make a reply, he left again.
 
Maria could only stare at the French doors and wonder how she could have let this happen.
 
A more intrusive question entered her mind.

What would be next?

CHAPTER 5

The dinner was served by a uniformed maid.
 
Maria refused to have any wine when Steve offered it to her.
 
That mint julep had left her with a bit of a headache.
 
After the last exchange on the balcony, an uneasy silence hung between them.

When Maria was done eating, she folded her napkin and placed it on the table.
 
The crawfish étouffée had been delicious, but the spicy Cajun ingredients did not sit well on her stomach.

When she accepted another drink of water from the maid, Steve asked, “Was the food too hot for you?”

“It was good, but I’m not used to that much spice,” Maria replied.

After Steve instructed the maid to bring her a glass of milk, he said, “You have to get used to Creole cuisine.
 
The milk should soothe your stomach.”

“Thank you.”

Maria felt surprised by his keen observation and consideration for her comfort.
 
Steve’s moods changed so frequently that she never knew what to expect.

“Would you like to go back to town and join in the festivities?” he asked.

“Not tonight.
 
I feel rather tired.”

It had occurred to Maria that she would have a better chance of getting away from the man in the crowds, but she knew that he would never leave her side.
 
Besides, all of the emotional turmoil she had experienced that day had left her in a state of mental exhaustion.
 
It would be best to rest now, so she could face whatever new situations arose the next day with greater self-composure.
  

When Steve invited her to join him on the veranda, she had politely refused.
 
He only nodded when she excused herself and went to her room.

Darkness had fallen, but it was still relatively early.
 
Maria considered the possibility of looking for a telephone, and then put if off it for another time.
 
She had had enough intrigue for one day.
 
After changing into her nightgown, she stepped out onto the balcony to take a final peak at the
Mississippi
in the moonlight.
 
It was chilly outside, so she had been forced to put on the satin robe which Marla had given her for Christmas.

The stars in the clear, crystal sky joined their light with that of the waning moon to cast sparkles on the water.
 
There were a few dim solar-powered lights in the garden beneath her, but the huge, old Southern oaks and willows near the river’s edge were silhouetted in darkness.

Maria looked out at the enchanting scene and her emotions were conflicted.
 
On one hand, she was sorry she had ever given in to Marla’s manipulation and then undertaken this foolish masquerade.
 
On the other, Maria knew that she would never have been able to come to this land of dreams if she had not done so now.
 
The cold winters of
Illinois
had never set her heart on fire as this place had.

And then, there was the man . . . Steve.
 
He had stepped right out of the pages of her imagination, the tall, dark stranger, compelling in his strength.
 
From the first time he had come to her rescue, she had felt drawn to him.
 
 
She had also feared him, but that had only lent strength to the fantasies she had created in her mind.