by Faver, JD
Mel frowned. “No way! Alain and I have been good friends for a long time. We fight all the time. We threaten to kill each other. And we forget it by the next day.”
The tightness in Helmut’s chest released suddenly. He tried to control the relief that must be showing on his face. He gathered her in his arms and held her close.
The jangle of the telephone intruded upon the moment. He reached for it and extended the receiver to her. He leaned to kiss her forehead. “It is for you,” he pronounced.
Mel sighed and nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, unless Layla is calling for you.”
Helmut shot her a frown. “That is not funny.”
“No, it’s not. Sorry.” She answered the telephone and grimaced.
Helmut could hear Alain St. Croix’s exuberant voice pulsing from the receiver.
Mel first protested and then agreed to whatever Alain was demanding of her. She cradled the receiver and turned to face Helmut. “I’m sorry, Helmut. I said we’d have dinner with the hoard. Are you okay with that?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you choose. I do not care where we eat.”
“Thanks.” She leaned up to brush a kiss along his jaw line. “Alain guilted me into it.”
They dressed and joined the others in the lobby. Alain shepherded them all to a pair of waiting limousines to be whisked to a restaurant nestled amid lush green palms and flowering tropical plants. Tables were set up at the back of the restaurant on a wide patio overlooking the ocean. A sheer cliff face dropped down to the water.
Alain sat at the head of the table with Mel on his right. Helmut sat next to her and Janissa slipped into the chair beside him. He expelled the breath he’d been holding in case Layla zeroed in on him. The table slowly filled as the models and crew got their fill of staring out over the water at the scenic view.
Stars twinkled overhead in the black night sky as he reached for Mel’s hand under the table. She turned to give him a genuine smile and looked relaxed for the first time since Layla’s appearance that morning. She leaned closer and lifted her face for a kiss. Helmut obliged and as their lips parted, he turned to find Layla Almaraz seated directly across from him.
Her mouth lifted on one side in a half smile. “Well, if you two aren’t the pair of lovebirds. Mel, I thought your heart was involved elsewhere.” Layla cut her eyes to indicate Alain, who frowned and gave her a slight shake of his head.
A giant fist clenched Helmut’s stomach. The thought of Mel with any other man was difficult to handle, but Mel with Alain was unthinkable.
Alain glanced from one woman to the other and then turned his attention to the waiter and spoke to him in Spanish stirring the air with intricate hand gestures.
Mel glared at Layla who seemed to be smirking. “Alain and I have been friends a long time,” she said.
“How well I remember,” Layla purred.
“Layla,” Alain interjected. “That is enough.” He fixed her with a stern eye and she seemed to shrink in her chair.
Mel gripped Helmut’s hand as though it were a lifeline.
Alain began describing the specialties of the house which included fresh seafood caught that very day in the waters offshore. He heartily recommended the crab and shrimp and ordered trays heaped with the chilled crustaceans and bottles of the house white wine to start, and grilled redfish as an entree.
As soon as she was served, Mel reached for a wooden mallet. She glanced across the table and flicked a venomous gaze at Layla, then smashed the mallet down on a crab leg with a satisfying thud.
“You go, Mel!” Janissa called.
Helmut picked up a mallet and proceeded to follow her example to remove the shell from his crab. After eating with his fingers and washing the shrimp and crab down with the crisp white wine, Helmut began to feel a little better.
Layla busied herself with extracting her food from the shell and in seemingly serious conversation with the person to her right. She studiously avoided making eye contact with Mel or Helmut, but loudly proclaimed when the waiter poured wine in her glass, “None for me. I don’t drink any more.”
After the meal, the waiting limousines drove them to a night club where the music raged out into the streets.
Mel didn’t appear to be any more enthused with the prospects than Helmut, but she shrugged and reached for his hand. “Just a while longer, love.”
The group danced to the frenetic beat and drank mojitos. Helmut noticed that Mel was only drinking sodas. He imagined it was because her stomach had been upset earlier. He kept up the pace, dancing and downing tropical drinks but hoped they would be delivered back to the hotel before long.
When they weren’t dancing, Mel clung to him.
Helmut sensed how vulnerable she was feeling, because he felt the same way. He wanted to question her about her relationship with Alain. He wanted to know if they were just long-time friends, as she claimed, or if they had been lovers. But he dare not ask the questions burning in his head. Not when she looked so fragile and when she gripped him for support. Straightening his shoulders, he drew her back to lean against him, both his arms wrapped protectively around her.
Whatever the situation, she needed him now. He would learn the truth in good time. He hoped.
#
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Alain finally allowed one of the limos to depart from the club with the light-weights among the party goers, Mel grabbed Helmut’s hand and squeezed in behind Janissa. She sat on Helmut’s lap and nestled her head against his chest.
She hadn’t gotten over the upset with her nemesis. She wanted to blot out the memory of Layla’s smirking countenance as she laid bare Mel’s past relationship with Alain. She wanted to forget Alain’s interest in Layla when they had been together. It seemed that Layla wanted whatever Mel had and now she was looking at Helmut like a hungry cat with a bowl of cream.
Helmut seemed to be immune to Layla’s charms, but how long was that going to last?
The sleek vehicle sped silently through quiet streets with Helmut holding her in his lap. She gazed around at the other passengers, all of whom appeared to be as exhausted as she felt.
Janissa yawned and unbuckled her stilettos. She dangled the shoes from her fingers by the straps, a mute testimony to her throbbing feet.
When they pulled up in front of the hotel, the driver opened the door and Helmut stepped from the vehicle with Mel in his arms. He carried her across the lobby and into a waiting elevator.
Barefoot, Janissa ran along beside him, struggling to keep up with his long strides. She ducked in the elevator and punched the button for their mutual floor.
Mel’s stomach caught as they were lifted to an upper floor. For the moment, she felt precious and safe in Helmut’s arms. She recalled her father carrying her from the car when she was sleepy. But she was a big girl now.
When the elevator arrived on their floor, Helmut stepped quickly from the interior with Janissa on his heels.
“See you guys tomorrow,” Janissa called, shoving her key card in the door of her own room.
Mel raised a hand in silent farewell as Helmut opened the door to their suite. He carried her into the bedroom and lowered her onto the king-size bed. His grim expression told her that Layla’s snide comments had hit their mark.
She cast about in her mind, searching for the words to heal his hurt.
“You were with Alain?” His deep voice sounded accusing.
“It was nothing serious,” she whispered.
He raised his brows and looked doubtful. “Like this? Like what we have? Nothing serious? Just sex?”
Stung, she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. “No. Not like us.” Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I...I love you. You know that.”
Helmut swallowed. He dropped his gaze to the carpeted floor. “So you have sex with men you do not love? Is that what you are telling me?”
Confused, Mel felt both guilt and anger gathering in her gut. “It wasn’t like that
. Alain and I were friends. It just sort of happened. I didn’t plan it.”
“I see.” He swept her with a cool gaze before turning away.
Crushed, Mel cast about for a defense. He didn’t see at all. He was judging her by his small-town standards. Life in the city was different. She forced the air from her lungs. “You’re not being fair! What happened between Alain and me occurred long before I met you.”
Mel wanted to shake him. How could he be so pig-headed; so unreasonable? She bounded off the bed and reached for his hand. “Were you expecting me to be a virgin?”
He turned back to her. “No,” he said quietly. “But I was not expecting that you would bring me into contact with your lovers and not tell me that you had a history with them. Is there anyone else I have met that you should tell me about? Someone else who no longer matters to you?”
A rush of fury welled in her chest. Without thinking, Mel delivered a stinging slap to his cheek. Horrified by what she’d done, she gazed up at him, frozen by remorse.
Anger blazed in his eyes. Helmut grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her closer. His teeth gritted together as a muscle in his jaw twitched.
They glared at each other for a moment. Tears spilled down Mel’s cheeks. She tried to push away from him, but his grip tightened.
Helmut lowered his mouth to hers and delivered a punishing kiss.
As much as she wanted to escape his grasp, a surge of longing raced through her core. She felt as though she was melting under the heat of his kisses. When she reached out for him, he crushed her against his chest.
Mel wound her arms around Helmut’s neck as her passion surged. He released her momentarily and slid her dress off over her head. Her heart raced as she recognized the raw passion in his eyes.
A spark of fury stoked a fire inside him as he pushed her back onto the bed.
She watched him undress and then quickly strip away her panties and demi-bra. With no pretense at foreplay, he climbed on top of her and was inside her. Angry passion raged, taking over Helmut’s usually sweet love-making. He rode her, stroking deep inside her as though to force any last remnants of other lovers from her brain and from her body.
Mel had never seen Helmut angry before. It was both frightening and enthralling. Her passions spiraled out of control as she experienced one climax after another. She could barely breathe, so tight was his embrace. “Helmut, I love you,” she whispered. Please know that I love you.”
He froze, stared down into her eyes and spoke slowly and deliberately. “I know, Mel. And I am in love with you. I will always be in love with you.”
Tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes and tickled as they ran back into her hair.
Helmut kissed her deeply and returned to his task. After he reached his climax, he remained on top of her as though unwilling to release her.
She clung to him, her arms and legs wrapped tight around him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
He was silent for too long. “I am sorry too.”
#
Helmut watched her as she slept, then quietly dressed and left the hotel. He took a taxi to the airport and changed his first-class ticket for the last available economy seat on a flight back to the States.
Upset by the day’s events, he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to be fearful when the plane took off, or care that they were flying at a high altitude over a large body of water.
In time, the overhead cabin lights went out and only dim illumination along the aisle remained.
He tried to get comfortable, but realized it was useless. He was wedged between a portly gentleman in the window seat and a matronly woman thoroughly engrossed in her knitting on the aisle.
There was no room for his shoulders or his legs.
Helmut expressed a deep sigh, glad of the discomfort because he had something else to think about other than the last vision he’d had of Mel sleeping.
Bile rose in his throat as he considered what he’d done.
He’d left her.
He had done the thing he had thought never to do. He walked out on the woman he was hopelessly in love with and had no expectations of ever getting back together with her.
He tried to swallow, but his throat felt constricted. Tears stung his eyes. He concentrated on breathing in and out.
“First time in Mexico?” the woman asked, not raising her eyes from her knitting.
Helmut cleared his throat. “Yes. It was my first time.”
She chuckled. “You’re looking a little green around the gills. I hope you didn’t drink the water.”
Helmut grimaced. “I did not drink the water.
My...someone told me to only drink water from the bottle.”
“And you’re traveling alone?” The woman turned to peer at him over the top of her glasses.
Helmut felt tongue-tied, not wanting to respond to the woman’s questions, but not wanting to appear rude either. “I...I was with someone.” He didn’t like the pitying expression on her face.
“I see,” she said slowly, then made clucking noises with her tongue against her teeth. “Perhaps you’ll be with that someone again.”
Helmut shook his head. “I do not think so.” He pushed his seat as far back as it would recline and closed his eyes, effectively ending the conversation. He heard the sound of more clucking as the knitting needles clicked away.
His thoughts returned again and again to the woman he’d left in Mexico. Mel had become angry when he’d accused her of having other lovers lurking about. It wasn’t something he’d meant to say, but then she’d struck him and that touched off something else within him. Something besides the jealousy eating away at his insides. It had frightened him, this dark need for her. He’d wanted her in a different way than the way he usually desired her. He’d wanted to punish her. For not telling him about Alain. For having other lovers. For making him fall in love with her.
He wondered what Mel would do when she awoke and found him gone? She would be upset. Would she seek out Alain to comfort her? A sickening knot of anger twisted his gut.
He couldn’t shut out the vision of Mel in Alain’s arms. He opened his eyes and gazed up at the ceiling of the darkened cabin.
For the rest of the long flight, he remained awake, staring into the darkness, only seeing one face.
#
She heard the surf first. Soft shushing sounds as it rolled up onto the shore and frizzled out in the sand. Gentle breezes swirled in from the open balcony through the sheer curtains, lifting them in a graceful dance. The air felt clean and cool as dawn painted the eastern sky and crept onto the beach.
Mel groped her way to consciousness. She was naked. That wasn’t unusual. That Helmut’s flesh wasn’t pressed against hers was unusual. That his arms weren’t holding her was unusual. The gathering panic in her chest was unusual.
She opened her eyes, staring into the early morning shadows. Dread prickled her bare flesh as the cool breeze caressed her like a lover.
He’s watching the sunrise on the balcony. He’s in the bathroom. He’s here somewhere.
Even as she tried to rationalize Helmut’s absence, she knew in her heart that he was gone. The suite felt empty without his presence.
A talon-like claw ripped into her gut. She flinched as the pain consumed her.
He was gone.
She felt hollow inside. How could she have become so dependent on another person? Slowly she stretched out her arms and legs, gratified that her limbs still worked; that she wasn’t completely paralyzed by his mutiny.
The sheets felt cool and sleek as she swept her palm to the place where he’d lain beside her. No large, warm pile of muscles waited to jump on her. No deep blue eyes gazed at her with love in their depths. No wry, dimpled grin greeted her.
Mel turned over and grazed her fingertips across the rumpled sheets. She touched his pillow where his head had made an indention before pulling it to her, relishing the faint scent that lingered.
Not going to cry!
She stifled a sob, her throat aching with unshed tears. Mel Hannigan does not cry over any guy. No matter how...how Helmut he may be.
The taste of bile rose in her throat. The urge to throw up drove her from her reverie.
Mel pressed her lips together and rolled out of bed. The polished marble felt cool beneath her feet as she hurried into the bathroom. After hurling the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she resolutely started the water. Better grab a shower and get the day started. The shoot was scheduled for two more days and she wouldn’t let Alain down just because the central figure in his campaign had jumped ship. Someone needed to be the professional.
Mel regarded her image in the mirror and sighed. She ran her fingers through her short, tangled hair. What had Helmut ever seen in her, anyway? He was a god and she was an ordinary woman. Heads turned when Helmut entered a room. The man deserved a goddess. A goddess of the harvest. A goddess farmer.
Mel’s thoughts turned to the tall, curvaceous blonde Sunny Van Ness. She’ll do.
#
“What are you doing here?” Frowning, Sunny Van Ness planted her fists on her denim-clad hips.
Helmut stood, bare-chested, in his open doorway, staring down at her. When he’d been awakened from deep slumber by her persistent knocking, he’d groped his way to consciousness, wrenched from a sensuous dream involving Mel Hannigan.
Momentarily forgetting the details of their parting, he’d rushed to the door, half expecting her to be there. He struggled to keep the disappointment he was feeling from showing on his face.
Sunny shifted her weight from one hip to the other. “Better yet, when did you get back?”
“Around noon,” he said.
She glanced at his torso and then away. “You were supposed to be gone for a couple more days. What happened?”
He passed his hand over his face, as though that would clear his brain. “I came back.”
She snorted. “I can see that. I guess you don’t need my help any more.” She dropped her fists from her hips and started to turn away.
Helmut stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. “Wait! I thank you for what you have done for me.”