Speak to the Wind

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Speak to the Wind Page 11

by Mary Tate Engels


  "Hide out safely," she said. "I'm not much of a risk taker."

  "You don't consider our being together a risk?"

  "In what way?" She looked up at him questioning. Was falling in love with Joe risky? She hadn't considered it so. Maybe he meant risky for him.

  "Oh... nothing."

  "For you, Joe?"

  "No, of course not." He'd answered firmly, but the seed of doubt had been planted and left them both wondering what kinds of risks they faced in the future.

  They searched for perfect shells until the sand grew so hot that it stung their bare feet. They ran into the water, then ran back to their towels and lunch.

  Joe spread the blanket in the small amount of shade afforded by a palm tree. "I'd say we have three to four hours before the tide comes in, then we'd better scat."

  "We can't stay here during high tide, and yet you wanted to ride out a storm?"

  "Well, we couldn't do it here. We'd have to climb up in those rocks, maybe find a cave."

  "A cave!" She shuddered. "You, me and the snakes!"

  He pulled her into his arms. "I wouldn't risk hurting you, Maria. You're too precious to me." His tender kiss convinced her of his sincerity. "Now unless you want to give the shrimp boats a spectacular peep show, I suggest we tackle lunch."

  "I agree." She wriggled out of his arms and opened the lunch basket the restaurant had prepared for them. "You hungry?"

  "Starved. My breakfast was interrupted by a sudden heat wave."

  She gave him a teasing punch and handed him a tortilla wrap filled with veggies and shrimp. They each finished off a beer.

  Later they swam and snorkeled in the crystal clear waters, then relaxed on the blanket with chilled wine coolers. Maria opened her leather briefcase and pulled out her notebook. "I think it's about time for work."

  "You're diligent—I’ll give you that."

  "We have lots of area to cover and have barely begun."

  "Are you hinting that you have a big job ahead to whip me into shape for office?"

  She grinned. "Something like that. But it isn't an impossible job."

  "Well, thanks. That really boosts my ego."

  "I have other techniques in mind to boost your ego." She arched her eyebrows. "Anyway, that's not the area where you need help the most."

  He lounged back on the brightly striped blanket. "Look at us, Maria. I'm relaxed for the first time in years. You've been very good for me. And you.. .you're laughing out loud for the first time since I've met you."

  She caressed his cheek with her palm. "You've been good for me, too, Joe. There was a time when I thought I'd never laugh again. And I haven’t had this much fun since. . . well, for years."

  "Never is a long time not to laugh. Or to love."

  Her dark eyes explored his. Love, Joe? Really? "And now you give me both, love and laughter."

  "Yes, both," he murmured as he pulled her down for a kiss.

  When she raised her head, his dark eyes were smoky with passion. "Maria..."

  "We have work to do," she reminded him gently. "So get comfy."

  He brought several cushions from the boat and propped them against a rock, then settled back. Maria sat cross-legged, her work in her lap. "Now let's see what you wrote about me." He peered at her notebook pages full of scribbled notes and read aloud, "Tall, imposing, good first impression.” He looked up with a hurt expression. “Hey, what about sexy?"

  "Very," she said. "But I didn’t want to put that in writing."

  "Hmm, maybe you're right. We ought to keep that between us."

  "We need to discuss the value of good first impressions. It's very important in business and in politics. Statistics show people make assessments of others in about thirty seconds of the initial meeting."

  “Thirty seconds, hmm? That's pretty quick. What kind of first impression did I make on you, Maria?"

  She tried to sound nonchalant. "Oh pretty good."

  "Only good? What about spectacular? Dynamic? Hot!"

  "Actually, more than anything, I was curious about you."

  "Weren't you scared, a little, when I knocked on your door at that hour of the night? Come on, be honest."

  "No, because when I saw your eyes, I knew you were trustworthy. Besides, I heard you earlier, in the post, talking to a group. The sound of your voice was magnetic."

  “There goes my macho image. Shot to hell by the woman nearest to my heart. You want to know what I thought of you?"

  "Not right now."

  "Sexy," he persisted. “You had my attention immediately. I saw you in the post, too. And I wanted to run right after you."

  "Joe, you're getting off the subject."

  "And when I saw your eyes," he continued dreamily, "I knew I wanted you. Right then and there. And something told me I would have you, too. The mountain spirits spoke. She’s the one.”

  "You lie."

  "Honest to God, this was my first impression of Maria Eden. A woman with confidence."

  "I was more than a little impressed with you, Joe. You had—have—a special aura; some call it charisma. Something that draws people to you. I think it's because you let people know you care. That's important when you're dealing with the public."

  His hand touched her crown, caressing her hair gently. "I don't know about caring for the public, but you, I care about. When we're together, I can't keep my hands off you." He twirled a blond strand around his finger.

  "Let's try to stay on the subject, Joe."

  "I thought we were talking about feelings."

  "We're talking about you."

  "I'd rather talk about you. How I love to make love to you."

  "Joe, hush. Let's go on." She ran her finger along the page. "Where was I? Oh, yes, voice of authority. You have a very nice resonance to your voice, and it'll help convey that leadership quality you want."

  "I do?"

  "You know you do. We'll talk more about modulating your tone when we prepare for the video."

  "Modulating?"

  "Keeping it even and when to show emphasis. I'll show you how to keep your voice tone steady, mainly when under fire. You want to appear unflappable, even if you're excited or angry underneath. You must look and sound like you're in complete control."

  "Aha! Never let them see you sweat!"

  "Yes, that's it." She hesitated before proceeding. "That's the good part. Now for the zingers."

  "Shoot. I can take anything. As long as you're the one delivering." He crossed his arms on his chest.

  "Your body language is defensive," she observed softly.

  Quickly he unfolded his arms and laced his fingers behind his head in a casual attitude. "How's this?"

  "Well, it's an open stance. Are you open to whatever I have to offer?"

  “Oh baby, am I!"

  "We'll work on that, too. Also, we'll concentrate on increasing your voice strength. There'll be times when you have to make three or four speeches a day, do an interview and engage in hand-shaking sessions that require constant verbal exchanges. And then there'll be times when the microphone doesn't work and you’ll have to shout your speech to the entire auditorium."

  "Okay, I need a stronger voice. Sounds reasonable. What else?"

  "Most adults don't have natural stage presence. Some kids do, but most of us are intimidated when we walk onstage and face more than ten people watching our every move."

  "Yeah, I'm sure I’ll freeze right up."

  "Well, I’ll show you how to appear relaxed and give you some tips to remember. And next is something to do with communication. I call it intercultural communication." She paused and looked up. "For you, Joe, it's very important because you'll be communicating with and interacting between two cultures. Words, gestures, phrases and actions mean different things to different peoples. You need to be aware of those so you don't make a major goof in public."

  "Hmm... keep the general statements innocuous?"

  "Something like that." She nodded. "Last, we need to work on dealing wit
h the media, both print, as in newspapers and magazines, and visual, as in TV and documentaries. And the ever-growing social media."

  "All of those, quite frankly, scare the hell out of me."

  "That's why we're going to work hardest on them." She turned the page, and he could see it was barely written on. "Okay, remember we talked about your goals? Aside from what we've already discussed and what I mentioned today, do you have anything to add?"

  He tugged on his lower lip while he pondered. "I don't intend to be an empty-headed speaker, one who has nothing to say. An old aunt used to tell stories of a great Apache leader who spoke to the wind and it carried his messages to the people in all the corners of the land. And when times were good, the people came together to feast and celebrate their good fortune. I'd like that to be my legacy, too."

  "What beautiful imagery," she said softly. "I believe your speeches will be carried to the far reaches of Apache country, Joe. Maybe by the wind, but more likely, by the media."

  He agreed solemnly. "You know, Maria, there is so much that I want to accomplish for my people." He knotted his fist and hit his thigh for emphasis. "That's why I accepted the challenge in the first place. I want to improve the quality of life on the reservation, not by changing it but by enhancing opportunities."

  "I'm impressed with your ambitions, Joe. And I want to help you accomplish them." She had been scribbling furiously while he talked, then paused to gaze at him. She couldn't mask her admiration for the man, aside from her personal feelings for him. "Your future is so important for your people. I wonder if they realize what a gem they have."

  "I don't know about that." He gave her a shy smile. "But I can't help feeling that I have a destiny, Maria. And I have to rise up to meet it." He rubbed the frown from her brow, then cupped her chin with his hand. "And you'll be a part of it."

  "I wouldn't ever do anything to jeopardize your leadership, Joe." She caught her lower lip between her teeth. At some point they had to acknowledge their differences. That she wasn't an Indian and the impact of that on his leadership position would have to be faced.

  He leaned forward and kissed her nose, his hand still holding her face. "You won't, my blond beauty. You're going to make it all possible. I can't do a thing if I don't win this election. And I don't want to appear the bumbling fool in my efforts. I want my people to be proud of me."

  "Oh, they will be. I'm sure of it." She grasped his hand and kissed his palm. "But we have lots of material to cover before I'll feel satisfied."

  He leaned back and sighed. "You're right. We've played long enough. Tomorrow we start in earnest."

  She nodded.

  He fondled her hand, lacing the fingers with his and tracing the lines. "Did I ever tell you how much I enjoy just being with you, Maria? I'm convinced that we were meant to be together."

  "I love being with you, too, Joe. You make me happier than I've been in years. But I—"

  He squeezed her hand. "What?"

  "I can't help wondering what will happen to us when we leave Mexico."

  "We'll figure out something. I know one thing, Maria Eden. I can't be without you for long."

  "I don't want to lose you, Joe," she whispered.

  "Maria, don't you realize you've got me, body and soul?" He caressed her cheek with the side of his thumb. Then he pulled her down to him.

  She rested her head on his chest. It was so easy, falling in love with Joe. She had been so resistant for so long, that this seemed too easy. Maria's feelings were jumbled and she needed to sort through them. For the present time, Joe Quintero had captured her heart, and that was harder to determine. And harder to admit. It had to do with love.

  She still questioned the possibility of loving Joe after having loved Wayne so much. Was it true? Was it real? How could she forget Wayne? She'd tried to long ago and hadn't been able to. Now she was attempting to put Wayne in another part of her life, to keep him special, and letting Joe dominate the present. For dominate he did.

  Her heart pounded a solemn beat that seemed to keep time with his. She couldn't help wondering about his destiny and how she could possibly fit into his life. How could their futures ever mesh, especially if they achieved their joint goal and Joe became the next Apache chairman?

  Chapter Eight

  As they had agreed Maria and Joe dedicated the next week to intensive study and work. The warm days were spent covering mounds of information, with an occasional break for a brief swim, but there was no more idle time lounging on a remote beach. Maria kept a determined course, which Joe followed eagerly. They both felt the importance of his destiny. Soon others would be looking up to him, following his leadership. He had to be prepared.

  The moonlit nights, however, were made for romance. They couldn't stay away from each other. Joe was an ardent lover, turning her on to pleasures she'd forgotten or never realized. Maria reveled in his constant attention and returned the affection energetically.

  They'd been working steadily Thursday morning in Joe's casita when he received a long distance call. Maria stepped into the other room to give him privacy but noticed a light hearted lilt to the conversation. Obviously it was someone with whom he was quite familiar.

  When Joe hung up and sought her out, he wore a happy grin. "Little brother's coming down this weekend. His flight gets in Friday night. Maybe we should rent a boat and go deep-sea fishing on Saturday. Josh would love that."

  "Sounds like a good idea."

  "We plan to work on campaign strategy and goals. I wish you'd sit in on our brainstorming sessions. I'd like your input, Maria."

  "Sure, if you really want me," Maria agreed, crossing her arms in an unconsciously defensive posture. "Joe, is my presence going to be a problem when your brother's here? I don't mind if you want to make everything seem strictly businesslike between us."

  He glanced at her sharply. “What do you mean? I don’t care if he knows we’re together."

  "What I mean is, our whole affair has been pretty sudden, and I can understand if you'd rather keep it private for now."

  "Josh is family. I don't need to keep anything from him. He's a big boy. He'll understand about us." Joe ambled into the kitchen and took a Coke from the refrigerator.

  "So much for Josh. But what about others?"

  Joe gestured with the Coke bottle. "Want something to drink? I think we have some Perrier, if you prefer."

  "No, thanks."

  Joe pried off the cap and tilted his head back for a large gulp. "Josh has his life; I have mine. We've never interfered with each other's."

  She shook her head. “Joe, you're avoiding the subject."

  “Isn't that what you taught me?"

  "That won’t work on me, Joe." She toyed with the corner of her notebook.

  "What are we talking about here, Maria? You and me? Josh? Or the campaign? I merely asked you to sit in with us. You don't have to if you'd rather not be involved. I’ll understand if you think it isn't your business, which technically it isn't. But you have such good ideas that I feel you'd be a great addition."

  "You're sidestepping again. I think you've learned the skill of doublespeak, Mr. Quintero." She paused and took a seat in one of the living room chairs. "But not from me."

  He set the Coke on the table and approached her, bracing a hand on each armrest of her chair. He leaned toward her. "Let me make my meaning perfectly clear, Ms. Eden. Forget the election and Josh and everything else except us. Personally, I want you all to myself. But since we don't live on a deserted island and must mingle with the rest of the world, I have to share you. I'm proud to have you by my side, Maria. And I'll never be ashamed of you."

  "Do you really mean that, Joe?" she asked softly, a lump of emotion in her throat.

  "Absolutely."

  She swallowed hard. "I think you've learned how to project a voice of authority quite well."

  He shifted downward to a more comfortable and intimate position, kneeling on one knee and resting his torso against her legs. "Weren't we worki
ng on body language when the phone rang? I have a few things to say on that subject." He leaned forward and kissed her briefly.

  "We were still on power talk."

  His closeness sent her senses spinning and her papers askew. Her pen clattered to the tile floor when he framed her face with his hands and kissed her again. "How can you doubt me when the feelings between us are this strong?"

  "I don't doubt you," she declared, touching his face.

  "Don't ever—" His kiss carried them away for a brief interlude.

  "Before we lose everything, Joe, we should review the delivery techniques," she managed to say, trying valiantly to keep their minds on the work at hand. "Can you remember the rules? What about volume?"

  "Let's see... keep your voice even and relaxed." He shifted and let his hands trail down her arms. "How can I be relaxed when I'm so close to you?"

  "Good. Now what about pitch?" Her voice was a pitch higher than she wanted it to be.

  "Keep everything low and level. Actually, I'm feeling a little high right now." His hands reached for hers, covered them.

  "And s. . . speed?"

  “Take your sweet time." He lifted one hand at a time to his lips and brushed them with slow, deliberate kisses.

  "Breath?"

  "Long breath, short sentences." He leaned forward to kiss the wildly pulsating spot at the base of her throat. "I'm breathless at the moment. And a little hot."

  "It's because you aren't breathing with your diaphragm," she answered, feeling equally breathless. "And rhythm?"

  "My favorite part." He stroked the sides of her breasts. "Give a definite beat to the phrases. Get physical."

  "Musical, not physical."

  "Yes, teacher." He kissed her again, rubbing his thumbs over her tight nipples. “Let’s get musical. Feel the beat.”

  She tried to keep her voice steady. "And don't forget to enunciate clearly."

  "Ummm... right." He mumbled something he wanted to do with her, then teased the corners of her mouth with his tongue.

  "Now let’s move on to body language." She brushed his hands from her breasts. "Don't fiddle. Or jiggle. Makes you appear nervous."

  "I like fiddling. And jiggling. Don’t you?"

  "Keep a poker face."

 

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