“Why?”
“They like us,” she told him. “They were grateful we helped them out, and now they’re letting us go.”
“We’re free?” The concept still wasn’t clear to him. He’d actually been kind of enjoying situation and had been making mental notes about the story he would write as a result.
“We’re free,” Lou assured him. “Not only did I bargain our release, but I got a lot of information that’s going to make a great story.”
“What kind of bargain?” Mason asked, vaguely alarmed. “Just what did you promise them?”
“I gave them Great-granddaddy’s recipe for white lightning.”
“You what?”
“But I had to make a few alterations because corn doesn’t grow on Sonora. They have to use bananas or papayas or mangoes, and the texture and sugar content in those aren’t the same. I only hope the changes work out. All in all, it might be best to make our getaway before they get back from their fruit-picking expedition in the jungle, just in case something goes wrong.”
“Point taken,” he said.
He rose from the ground and extended a hand to help her up. She smiled gratefully as she settled her palm in his and then allowed him to pull her forward. The force he exerted, however, exceeded what was necessary, and Lou wound up pressed against him in a position every bit at intimate as the night before. She didn’t move away, only gazed up at him from her impossibly long lashes, as if both asking him what he wanted and offering him everything she had to give. For a moment, he allowed the close contact to continue, loving the way she felt pressed against him—as if she belonged there—and a not quite willing to let her go. But he did let her go, finally, and took an awkward step back, away from her.
“We better get going,” he said softly.
She agreed with a quick nod.
After a few hasty calculations, Mason discovered the trail they had followed to reach the rebel compound, and from there, he and Lou backtracked to where they had made camp the night before. All the while he forced himself to focus his concentration on getting them safely back to the Jeep and then to Madriga, and he did his best not to think about the woman who kept up the rigorous pace effortlessly behind him.
Lou was a real trooper, he thought. Maybe Paula Kelly hadn’t been so off target when she’d said Lou was tough as nails. Ever since coming to Sonora, she had remained levelheaded and calm, had behaved exactly as an intelligent, responsible news correspondent should. Mason was the one who had contracted the weird tropical malady, and he was the one who had managed to get them hopelessly lost in the hills. And when they had met upon a band of rebels, it had been Lou, not he, who secured their release. Maybe, just maybe, he had been wrong about Lou.
Before long, they were able to find their way back to the Jeep and scrambled inside. Mason sent up a quick prayer the rebels hadn’t drained their gas tank, twisted the key, gunned the engine, then smiled and headed back toward the road. Lou studied the map, and when she told him to head south, he did so immediately, without questioning her once.
****
It wasn’t until a full twenty-four hours later that Lou was finally feeling like herself again. As she soaked in a sandalwood-scented bath before meeting Mason for dinner—the third such bath she had enjoyed since they had arrived back at the hotel last night—she thought about everything that had happened since landing on Sonora five days ago. But she was no closer to understanding what was going on now than she had been before. So she sighed and sank farther down into the hot water.
Just what had happened out in the jungle two nights ago? She was still at a loss. Mason had never, ever shown any kind of interest in her as a woman, had never indicated he felt any kind of physical attraction toward her at all. So just what had been going through his head when he reacted to her with a passion and desire to rival her own? She didn’t kid herself she wasn’t the one who instigated the episode by entwining herself around Mason in her sleep. And of course pulling him over on top of her had only made the situation even more volatile.
But he hadn’t pulled away from her, she reminded herself. He hadn’t even tried. And when she kissed him, he had accepted it wholeheartedly. By the time they pulled away from each other, they’d both been breathless and hot. There was no way their embrace could have escalated to the point that it did unless both of them had been willing, active participants.
So what did that make her? Lou wondered. A seductress? She almost laughed out loud at that. Halouise Lofton of Hack’s Crossing, West Virginia, seducing Mason Thorne, Washington, D.C.’s leading ladies’ man? Right. But there had to be something about her that Mason found attractive, otherwise he would have pushed her away long before things got out of control. Then again, maybe what he’d said to explain their actions did hold a ring of truth. Tensions had been running high between them all day, and their senses were heightened because of their situation. But two people didn’t come on to each other the way she and Mason did that night just because they were a little tense. There had to be more to it than that. Mason must feel at least something for her. Right?
“I wish I knew,” she mumbled to no one in particular.
Only when her bath water began to grow cool did Lou climb out of the tub. She finally felt as if the last of the grime had been washed from her body, and her mood lightened as a result. As she dressed for dinner, she thought again about the possibility that Mason might be taking a more physical interest in her and what she could do to…arouse…that interest.
Ultimately, she dressed in the white shirt and khaki trousers she had purchased in town that afternoon. Maybe looking like what he considered a serious journalist would do the trick.
“Great,” she mumbled to her reflection, feeling disheartened. “Now on top of everything else I’ve become to Mason—little sister, fan club, and sidekick—I can add ‘protégé’ to the list. How romantic.”
A knock at the connecting door alerted her to the fact that her mentor, superhero, idol, and big brother had arrived. She sighed as she fixed gold hoops into her ears, then opened the door to find Mason looking his usual handsome best in his usual journalistic attire. She couldn’t help but smile when she realized they looked like bookends. He scanned her clothing several times before his eyes settled on her face, and she could have sworn they were lit with affectionate laughter when they did. But the flicker of amusement was gone before she could be sure she’d seen it.
“You know, we have less than a week left on the island,” he said as they made their way across the hotel lobby to the dining room. “The elections are Wednesday. If you want, after the polls close, we could go the whole tourist route and take in some of the local attractions. I’d hate for you to miss out on the nightlife, especially since this is your first trip out of the States. No one at the paper said we couldn’t enjoy ourselves while we’re here.”
Lou’s heart skipped a beat at the prospect of spending the evening with Mason on an honest-to-goodness date. Despite their weekly Tuesdays out in Washington, the two of them seldom did anything but eat dinner and then go back to one or the other’s apartment to watch a rented movie. Occasionally they went to a show at the Kennedy Center or one of the universities, and sometimes in the summer, they caught one of the musical performances offered on the Capitol grounds. But those things were generally spur-of-the-moment decisions or enjoyed with other people from the newspaper. They never had the feel of a real date. Wednesday night would be her chance, Lou decided. And for more than just an evening out with Mason. Wednesday night would give her the opportunity to once and for all try to figure out why Mason responded to her and use it to attempt a—the word almost stuck in her throat, even only thinking it—seduction.
Could she do it? Oh, sure, she could spend an evening with Mason doing the tourist thing and having a wonderful time. But could she really seduce him? Would she be able to go through with it? What if he rejected her before she even got started? Or worse, what if he went to bed with her and then cast her aside when he decided sh
e was small potatoes compared with the banquets he’d enjoyed with other women? Then again, how was she ever going to know unless she tried?
“I’d like to,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt, not sure if she was answering Mason’s question or her own. “I’d like to very much.”
****
The remaining days passed in a blur of excitement and activity. Lou and Mason ran themselves ragged day and night documenting the political atmosphere of Sonora, recording the opinions of the population, investigating government documents made available to them, writing and filing stories about everything they saw and heard. Mason’s stories were straightforward, factual accounts, while Lou’s stories leaned toward human interest and a more intimate view of the island culture and customs. On Tuesday night, the eve of the elections, Lou was even granted an interview with General Marco Papitou. The Sonoran leader had been reluctant to talk to the international press because of his fear he would be misquoted or misrepresented. But he’d kept track of the articles about Sonora that were appearing in all the major newspapers, and he’d been impressed by some of the ones that he saw in the Capitol Standard. He’d thought them the most accurate and had appreciated the scope of human experience in Lou’s stories especially, so he had agreed to meet with her when she asked one last time for an interview.
Lou had been surprised by his acceptance and not a little panicky. Providing household hints and covering social affairs hadn’t exactly prepared her for talking to world leaders, regardless of her recent experiences on Sonora. But she found the general to be an expansive and cooperative subject who answered her questions thoughtfully and without condescension to her age or gender. When she left the governor’s palace, it was with the opinion he was a decent, caring man who had everything it took to put his island homeland back together and turn it into the well-run, efficient nation it had never had the chance to be.
After she filed her story with Paula Kelly at the newspaper, the editor told her the interview would be featured on the front page of the “International Forum” section the following Sunday and would doubtless be picked up by a number of other newspapers all over the world. Lou was ecstatic. This trip really had exceeded her wildest dreams.
By Wednesday night the polls were closed, the elections were over, and the only thing left was to discern the winner when all the votes had been counted. The tallying wouldn’t be official until the following morning, but there was little doubt in anyone’s mind that Marco Papitou would be elected Sonora’s first president. And as far as Lou was concerned, there wasn’t a better man for the job. During her stay on Sonora, she’d worked hard to provide well -documented, true accounts of all that was going on. And in the long run, she thought as she readied herself for her night out with Mason, she had done a damned good job of it. But Mason had been reserved for the last few days, and hadn’t made secret his opinion that Lou was just a pawn in the general’s propaganda game.
“And you, Mason Thorne,” she said to her reflection in the mirror, “are just too pigheaded to admit you were wrong.”
As if summoning him with her statement, there was a quick knock at her door. Lou rose and gave herself one final glance in the mirror, smoothing a hand over the short red tank dress she had worn on her date with Albert Michaud so many nights ago. Had she known then her meeting with the Sonoran diplomat would lead to everything she’d experienced since coming to the island, Lou might have seriously entertained thoughts of running blindly in the opposite direction. No, that wasn’t true, she knew. Despite some less-than-satisfying episodes, Lou wouldn’t have missed this trip for the world. Because as a result of coming to Sonora, Halouise Lofton was a journalist of international significance who commanded attention in the press corps. Now if she could get Mason to admit she wasn’t a helpless kid anymore, her life would be complete.
She opened the door to find a version of him she seldom saw—Mason dressed for a tropical evening out, wearing creamy trousers and a shirt the color of the Caribbean, a silk tie splashed with the bright hues and patterns of jungle blossoms knotted at his throat. With his tan and sun-washed blond hair, he was more handsome than Lou had ever seen him, and she began to regret that she had chickened out on her decision to attempt a seduction.
“You look nice,” she told him, feeling her heart skip a little at the fire that dancing in his blue eyes when his gaze raked her up and down several times.
“You’re wearing that dress again,” he said. Though this time, his voice held none of the censure it had the night she’d been wearing it for Albert.
“I like this dress,” she told him.
“So do I,” he agreed.Too much, Mason thought.
Lou’s cheeks went pink as her eyes widened in surprise. “I, um… I’ll just get my purse.”
Mason watched her as she collected her things, marveling at all the changes that had come over her during their stay on Sonora. She’d gotten some sun on their trip to the interior of the island and occasional quick escapes to the beach—her skin was touched with bronze, and her pale brown hair was lit with sunny, golden highlights. But that wasn’t what made her lovelier now than she’d been even before, he thought. Something else in her had changed this week, something of colossal magnitude. When she turned back to smile at him with a radiant, confident smile, it finally hit him what it was. Lou Lofton had come out of her shell. She had at long last left the poor, scared, lonely mountain girl behind, and had become the self-assured, knowledgeable woman she’d been struggling to be for years. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened or how, but it hadn’t been through any help from him. With guilt niggling at the back of his brain, he had to admit the changes in Lou had really come about in spite of him.
When the hell had it happened? he wondered. And what was he going to do about it?
“So what do you have planned for me this evening?” she asked as she preceded him through the door.
“What?” he asked absently. Her question had distracted him, thanks to all the licentious thoughts it roused in his muddled brain.
“You promised we’d do the whole tourist thing,” she reminded him. “I was just wondering what that might involve.”
“Oh, that.” He was surprised to discover he wasn’t as relieved as he should be that she wasn’t referring to plans of a more intimate nature. “I thought we’d start with dinner at a little place up the beach, then maybe go to hit a casino or two, go dancing, whatever suits you. Any of that sound good?”
When Lou smiled at him, Mason’s heart nearly dropped into his shoes. Where had she learned to smile like that? It was as though she knew everything he was thinking and was more than willing to go along with whatever he proposed. Even if it didn’t involve casinos or dancing. No, especially if it didn’t involve casinos or dancing.
“All of it,” she replied enthusiastically as the elevator doors closed behind them. “Let’s do it all.”
It was all Mason could do not to push the Stop button on the elevator’s panel and get right to work on all the erotic ideas about Lou that had plagued his dreams for the past few nights. As the elevator descended, he mentally relived every one of them, noting the absolute perfection of her neck and how it just begged him to place a soft kiss right where it met her shoulder, and then…
It was a good thing the Hotel San Sebastian only had four floors. Otherwise, Mason would be having some major difficulties explaining to Lou why he was nibbling on her earlobe. Even so, when they exited the hotel lobby onto the street, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. He told himself it was because he wanted to avoid losing her in the throngs of people that were crowding into the streets of Madriga to celebrate their first election and not because he just wanted to have her close.
****
Despite the darkness that had settled over the city, the temperature hovered around eighty, and a warm breeze rustled the palms that lined the avenue to nudge Lou’s hair onto her for
ehead. She brushed the silky strands back into place and wondering about the curious expression on Mason’s face. Something about him was different tonight. His dark mood had lifted, and he seemed to be back to his easygoing self. Gradually, she began to relax, too. It was a beautiful night, clear and balmy, with the clean, salty scent of the sea hanging in the air to remind her of her exotic, romantic surroundings. For a fleeting moment, she thought this must be what it was like to be on a honeymoon. Then she reminded herself she was a reporter, not a honeymooner.
“I thought we could have dinner at La Mer,” Mason said from what seemed like a thousand miles away. “It’s well-known locally for its seafood. But I promise, this time I’ll skip the conch fritters. I think you’ll really like it.”
Lou smiled a little uncertainly and then nodded. “That sounds nice.”
Actually nice was something of an understatement for the restaurant, and Lou more than liked it. Situated at the end of a pier and built so that most of the structure lay below sea level, La Mer was an eating establishment like none she had ever visited. The maître d’ led them through a dining room decorated in muted, calming shades of pale green and lavender to a table by a window that, instead of looking out over the ocean, looked out into it. Beyond the window lay a small reef dotted by corals of purple, yellow and pink with damselfish darting around in a blur of red, blue, orange and green. Lou had never seen anything like it and was delighted that Mason would bring her to such a place.
“It’s wonderful, Mason,” she told him after they’d been seated and ordered cocktails. “I like it very much.”
“I kind of thought you would. This place suits you. It’s full of life and color and mystery, and sitting here makes me feel like nothing in the world will ever go wrong again.”
Lou was stunned by his statement. He’d never told her she had such an effect on him. “That’s sweet of you to say,” she said quietly. “I… Thank you, Mason.”
He seemed puzzled. “For what?”
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