Tell Me I'm Dreamin' (10 page)

“Yes, that is the best way. It will lead you straight to the entrance. I would walk with you if I had not already promised my brother Basil that I would stay with our workers until our vats were beneath the shoots.” Melanie turned, pointing to some black and yellow containers that stood beside the wall. “You see, we do not have a still. Sugar is our main business.”

“Oh, I see.” Nadine nodded with interest. “Look. I don't know how long I'm going to be here, it depends on how long it takes to get the roads cleared. But I hope we get to see each other again before I go,” she said earnestly.

“So do I,” Melanie replied.

The two women smiled at each other before going their separate ways. The conversation had given Nadine a chance to regain her composure before heading through the watchful gazes that were still upon her. She could see the cliff dwellers sitting in a group not far from the base of the hill. They had remained quiet and detached the entire afternoon. None of them had joined in the festivities, and they displayed no obvious signs of even hearing the music. Now, with concentrated curiosity, they watched Nadine's approach. Numerous pairs of sable eyes consumed her every move. As she walked along the outskirts of the cliff dwellers' cluster, Nadine saw the leader signal to one of the women in the rear. With the agility of an acrobat she rose to her feet, and crossed to stand directly in front of Nadine.

Even though her movements were not hostile, Nadine was completely caught off guard. She found herself staring directly into the face of the unusual female. The woman's demeanor was calm, but her eyes were filled with a curious excitement as she made an evaluation of Nadine's facial features. With a quiet look of approval, she bent her head and removed one of several necklaces from her own neck. Without a word she held the object suspended in the space between them.

Nadine's first instinct was to question the woman. Confusion mixed with a strange feeling of wonder as she studied the hands that held the article out to her. She could see a tattoo in the palm of the female's right hand. It appeared to be a double circle with an eight-sided star within it. Nadine took note of the ancient cross, and she wondered what significance the symbol held for the woman.

Without further thought a force from deep within compelled her to accept the necklace. The diminutive tablets felt cool to the touch as she took them from the cliff dweller's hands. It was only after she accepted the necklace that the woman looked into Nadine's face again, and waited for her to place the ornament about her neck.

The stones made a light clattering noise as she worked her hair from between them, then straightened the necklace so it lay against her skin beneath the ruffles of her blouse. Once the woman saw her task was complete, she rejoined her group with the same swift but quiet movement. Nadine watched the cliff dwellers draw their gaze away from her and look, as if with the same mind, toward the still. The necklace was the only evidence that the uncanny incident had even occurred.

Chapter
8

“You should have told me you were about to leave,” Ulysses called to her as he emerged from the evergreen trees beside the path.

“Well, I didn't,” Nadine countered without even turning to look at him. Her anger at his deserting her burned close to the surface.

“No, you did not.” He looked down at her stern profile. “Are you ready to see some of the collection of works we spoke of earlier? Or is the poised Nadine too upset to think of business?”

She stopped, her flashing hazel eyes lashing into him. Now he was treading water where Nadine was extremely confident. “Look. I am a professional. I am on this island because of my work. So please, don't misjudge me. I'm ready any time you are.”

“Maybe we will both need to remember the real reason why you're here.”

“You don't have to worry, I won't forget it.”

“It is a shame,” his husky voice chided her. “You dance so well.”

“It's all relative. Dancing is a part of the island culture. What better way for me to understand a people than to join in their traditional festivities,” she replied with one generous, well-shaped eyebrow arched high.

A wry smile crossed Ulysses' lips as he allowed Nadine to walk in front of him. The rapid sway of her round, slim hips emphasized her no-nonsense mood. He was not accustomed to being brushed off, and initially he was amused. But that shortly changed to aggravation as she walked further ahead, ignoring him as they advanced up the road. Among the islanders Ulysses was known for his short patience, and that reputation doubled when it came to women.

Under normal circumstances Nadine would have been unnerved by Ulysses' presence behind her. Watching her. She had never been comfortable under the watchful eye of men. But her outrage at his leaving her for the wanton Cassandra was more than her pride could take. Let him watch her. She was glad he had plenty to watch. Her breath blew out forcefully through her nostrils. Who did he think she was? Somebody he could use as a toy? She could feel the heat rising to her face as she thought about the decision she had made earlier. Let him be the first? Over my dead body!

Ulysses caught up with Nadine as they reached the kitchen door. She stood and waited for him to open it. Her eyes showed disdain and a challenge before she looked down at the handle.

“Does business also include small courtesies like opening the door?” Ulysses asked her calmly.

Nadine refused to answer the needling question. Without a word she swiftly opened the door, almost hitting Ulysses in the face. It took all her concentrated control not to smile at the irritated look she had managed to put on his dark features. And to think, she did not even conjure up Gloria for that. “Now where do we start?” she asked, feigning ignorance about what had just transpired.

This time it was Ulysses who took the lead. “Right this way, Miss Nadine.”

She waited quietly while he lit a lamp beside the heavy oak door. His attitude toward her could be described as no less than icy when he was leading her up the stairs, uttering a mere “Up here” as he proceeded in front of her. He had searched through several keys before settling on the newest one in the bunch.

Nadine could not remember how many times as a teenager she had sat and watched the old movies where the trusting female was being led to a secret chamber by a not so trustworthy male. The thought amused her, but it also unnerved her, and she wondered if she had pushed the man in front of her too far. The little she knew of him would not be considered normal by a long shot. The odd meeting in the cave. His less than conventional actions in the bath, and the strange magnetism he developed as she watched him dance. Eros was a long way from Ashland, Mississippi, and Nadine decided to tone down the antagonistic approach she had taken only minutes before.

She entered the room behind Ulysses as a single lamp gave eerie life to the myriad of objects within. Statues and busts looked blindly about, carved in marble, bronze, and limestone. Detail and color grew in clarity as Ulysses somberly ignited a series of lamps revealing bookcases filled with books. His chilling silence added to the breathtaking aura of the place. Rodney had said Sovereign was considered “the Protector of Eros' Treasures,” but Nadine had not been prepared for the abundance of treasures that were kept within the room.

Her lips parted in awe as she surveyed the treasures around her. The black velvet floor-length drapes that covered the walls and windows supplied an appropriate backdrop; like a velvet-lined jewelry box, they displayed the numerous works of art in the best possible manner. “It's overwhelming,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling with the wonder of it.

Despite the frostiness that had encapsulated his feelings, Ulysses had no choice but to warm to Nadine's sincere appreciation of his beloved collection. “Right here in this room you will find the richest source of Eros' history. But this collection,” he passed his hands across the leather bindings of several books before caressing a female statuette, “spans many centuries and tells much about people around the world, their lives, their dreams, and their beliefs.”

Had the statue been a real woman, Nadine thought as she watched him, there would have been no doubt in her mind how much Ulysses loved and treasured her. As she gazed at the plethora of treasures Nadine discovered there was no need to ask Ulysses about the pieces that graced the second floor of his home. He began to talk about them out of a need born of pride and love, like a parent bursting to share the accomplishments of a cherished child. After a while, Nadine found herself joining in his recitations, citing periods and styles. Each one of them fed on the other's enthusiasm and true appreciation for the paragons that surrounded them.

Ulysses' vast knowledge of his people and their artistic accomplishments enthralled Nadine, and he in turn had never had a more captivated audience. Any awareness of time dissolved, and the wall of mistrust crumbled between them.

“They look so real,” Nadine said as she looked at the ivory statue of a man stabbing himself above the limp body of a woman. “Pain and agony are so clear in his eyes, whereas her eyes and body convey death compellingly.”

“Yes, it is an old replica of the Dying Gaul.” Ulysses' words were spoken in wistful tones. “It is a tangible example of pain and courage. It shows what a human being will do, knowing his enemy's capacity for cruelty.”

The pang in Ulysses' voice as he spoke was unexpected. Nadine could tell from his posture, as he turned to look at the painting on the easel behind him, that it took extreme effort for him not to show his feelings, and yet she didn't know if it were hurt or anger that he was trying to subdue.

Nadine turned her attention to several marble statuettes displayed within a glass case behind lock and key. “These are lovely. They are most definitely Dionysian. There is such an erotic feel about all of them, and some of their hair is so close and tight to their heads, as if they were of African descent.”

The first one was a nude Eros embracing and kissing a half-nude Psyche. The others featured men and women in several positions indulging in amorous pleasures.

“That is the one continuous theme that I have found throughout the artwork believed done here on the island, love and passion.” Ulysses crossed the space between them. “It is said that long before the settlers arrived, the island of Eros was actually named by the goddess Aphrodite after her son. And with the name, she cast the spell that all whoever lived here, even for the shortest time, would eventually taste its sexual pleasures in some way or another.”

“Is there no other record connected with the name of the island?” Nadine asked, suddenly feeling giddy, the heady sensation brought on by Ulysses' tale and his close proximity.

“None that we know of.” His voice plunged to a seductive purr as he came even closer. “There is no reason to be afraid of yourself, Nadine. I watched the change that came over you while you danced in the sugar fields. I know that your battle is not with me, but with what you Americans call your convictions. Here on Eros, the island of love, the only conviction is
not
to deny yourself pleasure. Take it if it is offered to you.”

He raised his hand to caress her cheek, allowing the back of it to trail down the curve of her jaw, only to open his palm to softly stroke her slender throat as he looked searchingly into the hazel eyes that watched him.

Passion and panic rose simultaneously within her, and Nadine searched for something that would provide an escape from the rapid change in circumstances. Two gold busts of Egyptian origin caught her eye and she started toward them, then stopped abruptly. “My goodness. What is that?” she asked, pointing to an intricately carved bronze chest.

“This container houses my pride and joy.” Ulysses allowed his attention to be diverted. “If you are good to me, one day I will show it to you.”

Nadine felt a quiver run down her spine, a natural reaction to the seductive invitation lying beneath his ambiguous words. She began to babble. “It is most intriguing. I've heard so many stories about the islands from my grandmother that I've always dreamed of coming to a place like this. I wanted to find out if her stories were true. You know, launch my own private treasure hunt. It's why I love my work.” She kept her eyes on the case covered with figures and symbols that somehow looked familiar, but she had no inkling why. Bending closer for a more detailed assessment, Nadine saw the symbol that was tattooed in the cliff dweller's hand. The ancient cross was carved on a thin bronze shield covering the lock.

“This has something to do with the cliff dwellers, doesn't it?” she asked, pleased with herself and wondering what could the container possibly hold that was more precious to Ulysses than anything else among the slew of priceless pieces. Nadine looked at him with expectation, but Ulysses' face had changed from soft and yielding to a distrusting mask.

“How do you know that?” The words were low, threatening.

Before Nadine could answer, Ulysses had grabbed her by her arm and was leading her toward the door as he badgered her. “That case is none of your concern, do you understand me? And if I find out you are here for reasons other than you have told us, you will regret it!”

He forced her out of the room, shutting the large door in her face. Shocked by his reaction, Nadine stood listening to Ulysses turning the key in the lock from the other side. She was shaken by his actions, and her arm actually ached where his hand had held it in a vice grip.

Her eyes burned with tears of confusion for the second time that day. Nadine took the stairway nearest to her to put as much distance as she could between herself and the irate man. Once she considered herself out of harm's way, Nadine loosened the button on her cuff to see what damage had been done to her arm.

What is wrong with him? One minute he is trying to get next to me, and the next he's acting like some fool off the street. I'm not going to be bothered with this kind of insanity, she fumed, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. Nadine pushed up her sleeve, searching for evidence of the pain she was still feeling.