by Lan LLP
“Yes, it’s very beautiful,” I reply.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay being this high in an open space.”
I walk over to him and attempt to distract my troubled mind with a little playfulness. “You can easily calm my nerves by speaking to me in a foreign language like…French?”
He scoops me up in a single lift, surprising me. With one hand, he glides the mosquito net back and then gently tosses me on top of the king-size platform bed. My body softly lands on several down pillows, and I welcome the coolness from the cottony smooth sheets. He climbs on top of me and hovers his upper body over mine as his pelvis nuzzles between my thighs with unusual cautiousness. Casually, he tucks several of my loose, silky tendrils behind my ears and tenderly caresses my face and neck with his fingers.
“Do you find my accent or me sexy, Lily?” he inquires while smiling with his lips loosely pressed together and with one eyebrow arched. Incessantly, he kisses the area behind my ears and along my jaw, a very sensitive zone for me. Knowing my weakness, he goes in for the kill. Tingling sensation shoots like fireworks, arousing my entire body.
“I find everything about you sexy,” I breathlessly confess what he’s been longing to hear.
“Très bon! I want you to have eyes for me only, mon amour, and no one else. Qui, Lily?”
“Keep this up and my faint vision of Amelia’s handsome host will be permanently erased,” I taunt him while refraining from laughing. He strokes the length of my jawline with his lips and tongue, nips the delicate lobe of my ear with his teeth and slowly pulls away from my extremely aroused and willing body. He leaves me yearning, almost shamefully begging for more.
“Carson, you’re not playing fair,” I sulk for not getting my way.
His expression is subdued. “You need to be punished for being naughty, for toying with my emotions, little Vixen.” A playful smirk overtakes his frown as he fights hard to hide it.
I know what this is all about. Well, two can play this game. I quickly remove my clothes, toss my silky bra on top of his lap and seductively sashay in front of his ogling eyes to step into the infinity pool. I turn my head sideways, narrow my eyes and give him a wry grin. “I guess I’ll have to relieve my needs all by myself,” I tell him in my fake pathetic girly voice, pretending to be the bad little Vixen he calls me.
He races over unexpectedly to grasp my wrist and tug me into his arms. “Lily, you’re impossible and too damn irresistible.” He dips my body backward and tickle-kisses along my neck. I laugh hysterically as I struggle to break free. His powerful grip is solid.
“Please stop!” I beg him for mercy. He knows I hate being tickled and is using it as a weapon against me.
“Tell me what I want to hear or this torture will not end for you,” he continues his relentless tickling along my sides while trapping me in his arms. I think I’m going to die from laughing so hard.
“Alright!” I squeal out loud, gasping for air. “I have eyes for only you. Please stop! I’m begging you for mercy.” He finally stops.
“You’re the only one I see in my eyes,” he whispers sternly into my ears, all traces of humor completely erased. “Now let’s enjoy the pool together.” He lifts his polo shirt over his head as I hurriedly slide his khaki shorts and boxer briefs past his lean waist. His sexy body is frequently guilty of planting sinful thoughts in my head. I stare at him with no shame. He offers his hand to help steady me into the pool and follows behind. Carson settles on top of a fixed ceramic tile recliner below the water and cages my body between his thighs and arms. I’m grateful to be imprisoned by him as I lay securely against his bared chest. The cool water ripples back and forth against our bodies as my hands glide freely through it. I’m savoring this tranquil moment, wishing for more days like this, especially after the eventful week I just had.
My backside playfully writhes against his lap, hoping to stir him up. His firm erection tells me he’s ready, but his body backs away from me instantly. Since our unprotected incident in the pond, Carson hasn’t attempted to have sex with me in any body of water. He’s steadfast with his promise of being responsible.
After we dried off from our skinny dipping, Carson tells me he made an appointment with a holistic healer. Since I’ve refused to see a physician with him, he’s adamant about having this healer relieve my nausea. This man’s reputation goes far beyond this island, Carson tells me. People travel from all over to seek his natural healing remedies for every kind of ailments possible. I’m reluctant of course because if there’s a chance I might be pregnant, I don’t want him to introduce anything harmful or foreign to the baby.
“He uses all natural organic herbs grown locally here on the mountains,” Carson reassures me, not knowing that I’m thinking the same thing at the same time.
“He’ll have to list all the herbs in my concoction before I’ll agree to drink it, okay?’
“Yes, Dear,” Carson agrees with my terms and rolls his eyes at me. Carson hands me a sundress from an open closet and slips into a pair of linen khaki pants and a light baby blue cotton t-shirt.
“No undies?” I inquire. He shakes his head mischievously. I’m going to shock him and do as he asks for once.
“Are you ready? It’s almost time for your appointment.” He hurries me with a smirk. God forbid he’d ever be late for any appointments. I hesitantly shake my head, but still follow him to the elevator. Carson presses level 6 on the keypad and pulls me against his chest. “I just want you to feel better,” he murmurs into my ears. “And then I’ll feel better when I leave.” He runs the back of his hand along my face.
“Thank you for caring so much.” I look up into his soothing eyes and press my lips gently against the curve of his neck and inhale his addictive scent.
The elevator doors uncover a large open office. Once again, everyone is dressed in a crisp white uniform. A youthful blonde receptionist greets and directs us over to an open area on the airy terrace. There must be an age and good-looks requirement to work here. Everyone appears to be in their early twenties to mid-thirties and attractive. Her eyes are locked on Carson’s mesmerizing face like every other woman who’s ever set theirs on him. I’m becoming callous to all their ogling, but it doesn’t mean I don’t turn green because I most certainly do.
I’m able to see the same two beautiful mountains in the background again. We sit comfortably on a white upholstered loveseat as I lean snuggly against Carson’s chest. I’m apprehensive about this holistic healing approach. My sweaty hands grip Carson’s tightly with white knuckles. “Lil, I’m right here. I’d never let anything harmful happen to you,” Carson reassures me, hoping to settle my nerves while his hand soothingly strokes up and down my back.
“I know, but I’m still nervous anyways,” I mutter against his chest.
A tall, slender, dark-skin gentleman approaches us, eyeing us closely. “Mr. Bradley, it’s been a long time. How are you?” This is odd that Carson knows this man personally. I wonder if he’s brought other women here for treatments or vacations in the past. My blood boils just thinking about it. I don’t understand why I’ve been such an emotional wreck lately.
“Jean-Pierre, I’m fine and you? How long has it been? Maybe six years ago when we collaborated on that rare plant extract project,” Carson recalls, making me feel like an idiot for falsely accusing him. I’m almost as bad as Carson when it comes to jealousy, jumping to stupid conclusions. It’s a flaw we both need to work on. It’s not exaggerated when people say love makes you do crazy things.
“Jean, this is Miss Lillian Ly, my girlfriend. She’s a medical-resident at Hope Hospital in St. Croix,” Carson proudly introduces me. I’m astonished to hear him introduce me as his girlfriend for the first time. He’s absolutely serious about letting the world know that I’m his. My heart swells up with his confirmation of us.
“Miss Ly, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jean.” He offers me his hand, and I shake it cautiously, sizing him up to his skills.
“Je
an, it’s an honor to meet you, too. Carson has told me great things about your unorthodox approach to medicine,” I commend him. I hope my facial expression doesn’t expose me. I have a difficult time hiding my emotions, especially when I’m upset or insecure. I’m escorted to another open area while Carson and Jean-Pierre finish their conversation in French, leaving me clueless. Lucene, a brunette receptionist, gives me her name and instructs me to lay flat on a soft leather recliner. I carefully prop my legs up, fully aware that I’m panty-less, thanks to Carson, and rest my body backward. She throws a soft silky sheet over my body, giving me the privacy I need to lay there more modestly. It’s so peaceful here that I practically fall asleep until Carson lifts my hand to his moist lips.
“Lily, Jean will need to assess your condition first and then determine which herbs will meet your needs best. I’ll come back when he’s finished with you. He doesn’t want me to be in the same space, affecting your aura.” Carson leans down to kiss my forehead and gives me an okay wink. I reluctantly release his hand when he stands upright to walk away.
Jean-Pierre comes over to me as soon as Carson disappears into the elevator. His eyes are light golden brown, very unusual, but utterly hypnotic. I can barely break my trance from them. He has shoulder-length dark dreadlocks and a shy, but congenial smile with perfect teeth. My first impression of someone usually begins with the type of smile they offer me. He seems honest and sincere to me. He’s originally from Haiti, studied abroad, and worked at several pharmacy labs until he accepted his calling here. His combined approach of holistic and Western medicine has made him extremely successful.
Jean-Pierre politely asks for permission to feel my pulse and for a tiny lock of hair. I didn’t especially like the cryptic expression on his face, but agreed to his strange requests. Lucene brings a sharp pair of stainless steel scissor and a white cloth pouch. She hands them to Jean and quietly walks away. He lifts the top layer of my hair up and snips a small strand underneath it. My lock of hair is neatly placed inside the pouch and set aside. This entire ritual is weird to me. I’m having doubts about his methods, but continue to cooperate. I don’t want to disrespect him because Carson thinks very highly of him.
“When did you last menstruate, Miss Ly?” he inquires me with suspicion in his tone.
“About six weeks ago,” I answer him, curiously wondering why this is his first diagnostic question.
“Does Mr. Bradley know?” His golden brown eyes narrow, steadily searching for an answer to his ambiguous question.
I pretend not to understand it, playing the naïve card. “Know what?”
“You’re with child, Miss Ly.” His words strike my reality so hard my body trembles. I pull my wrist from his grasp and fold my arms across my chest to comfort and steady myself. You’re not going to cry, I command myself.
“How do you know, Jean?” I need concrete confirmation, not some voodoo hunch of his. I ask for his confirmation with a trembling voice.
“I feel the baby’s pulse strongly beating along yours. Take a pregnancy test if you don’t believe me,” he confidently challenges me, still staring at me with his mesmerizing eyes. I immediately get up, drop my face in my hands and ball myself up. Thank goodness for the sheet over my legs or else I would expose my bare butt to everyone. Oh my god, what if he’s right? Why was I so careless and stupid? Jean offers a consoling pat on my back. “I’ll keep your secret for you if you don’t wish to tell Mr. Bradley now. Miss Ly, he’s a good man. He’ll do the right thing.” I’m comforted with his promise to keep my secret for now.
“Jean, I’ll tell him eventually, I just need more time.” My voice is now trembling terribly and so is my body.
“Most women would be ecstatic if they became pregnant with Mr. Bradley’s baby, a life of endless wealth and social status,” Jean tells me as he gauges my reaction to his statement.
I’m immediately offended by his insinuation. “I’m not like most women. I want him, not his money. If I believe he doesn’t want this baby, I’ll take care of it on my own,” I huff.
He gives me a respectful look. “I believe you Miss Ly. As for the nausea and vomiting, I have a special tea blend of licorice root, mint and ginger that will eliminate your symptoms instantly. You’ll need to drink it before every meal until your first trimester symptoms subside. It’ll also help you gain some healthy weight for your baby.”
“Thank you, Jean.” I place both my hands on my taut abdomen and quietly say “Baby” for the first time. The emotions flowing through me are mixed. I’m feeling both disappointed and unexpectedly happy at the same time. My goal of completing medical school will have to be delayed which is disheartening, but I’m going to have Carson’s baby. As much as I already care for him, I can’t imagine how much love I’ll have for our baby.
Not a minute too soon, Carson exits the elevator while Jean hands me a decorative box of custom blended tea. It’s dark and wooden with intricate hand carving designs and writings on the top and sides of it that are foreign to me. I kindly thank him again and disguise my brittle state with an invincible façade.
“How did everything go? What did Jean say?” Carson asks while intently surveying my every move.
“Fine. Jean told me this tea will make me feel all better,” I inform him with my eyes fixed on the box.
“Great, dinner will be served in an hour. This will be the true test of Jean’s healing power.” He turns on his heels and gives Jean a respectful wink. “Merci beaucoup, my friend.”
Carson intertwines our fingers together and leads me into the elevator. I quickly evade his searching eyes because mine would surely forsake me at this weak moment. I desperately need to find Amelia, but without a phone and with Carson’s constant attention, it’s an impossible mission. He remains quiet until the elevator doors open.
“Is everything okay?” he asks me. I try to race out, but he holds my wrist captive. I gently nod my head several times without looking back at him. He releases my wrist in defeat. I want to pretend that nothing is wrong, but how can I after hearing Jean’s confirmation of my pregnancy? This damn open room concept makes it impossible for me to have a private melt down. All I’m able to do is stare blankly out to the distant mountains on our balcony and avoid looking directly below. I inhale the fresh air around me to lessen the tension I’m feeling. Carson quietly strolls over behind me and stands astride after allowing me several minutes to myself. He places both his hands on top of mine which are tightly gripping the metal railing and rests his chin on top of my right shoulder. He mimics my blank stare out to the beautiful green blanket of trees and plants.
“What’s wrong? What did Jean tell you about your condition?” he calmly asks me as his eyes remain fixed on the tree tops. “You can tell me anything, Lil.”
“Jean thinks I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll get over it. I’m having a hard time with you leaving tomorrow,” I purposely stretch the truth.
“Lil, it’s only temporary till the end of this school year. We’ll be together every day after that or sooner if you would just come with me tomorrow,” he comforts me with a sly plea.
“Nice try, Carson.” I gently elbow his abdomen. “The humidity is getting to me. I need a shower to cool me down.” I attempt to divert our conversation because I don’t know how much longer I can hold up this fake front.
“I’ll join you if you don’t mind.” He pries my fingers away from the railing and walks me over to the shower. He helps unzip the back of my dress and slides it off my shoulders and down my body. I step over it and slowly undress him like I’m opening a birthday present that I’ve already peeked into and happily know exactly what I’m getting.
Our bodies welcome the cool water, balancing the humidity and heat around us. I run a cotton wash cloth along his flexed muscular back and each toned leg as he leans his forehead against the tile wall between his fisted hands. He returns my favor by indulging my body with the same wash cloth, lathering the luxurious suds all over. He turns me aroun
d to face him with my back pressed against the wall. Water continues to flow above us and over his back and broad shoulders. Our eyes blink against the cool droplets. Enclosing my waist with his left arm, he tilts my chin up to meet his searching eyes. How can I possibly avoid them now? “You’ve been dodging my eyes this entire trip. What are you hiding from me, Lil? It seems like something else is bothering you besides for me leaving you.” He moves in closer, making it impossible for me to elude his question. My body stiffens instantly with panic. I quickly shake my head while camouflaging my emotions.
“Nope…there’s nothing to hide from you.” I hold my breath and stare back into his narrowed green eyes.
“Good, because I hate secrets, and I don’t want any between us, okay?” He stares into my eyes for confirmation. I nod my head. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my secret from him much longer. He’s too observant with me.
He steps out of the shower first to grab towels for himself and me. Cautiously, he helps me out and wraps the plush towel around my body. He tenderly pats me dry with a separate towel. I wonder if there’s any woman out there as lucky as I am to have such a doting and passionate lover. I secretly relish his tenderness as I deal with my internal struggle.
Dinner is served on the terrace over candlelight. We’re embraced in the warmth and brilliant glow of a stunning sunset from our height. I drank my special tea when we got back to the room while I sat on the balcony. Jean’s holistic practice is impressively powerful. The pungent scent of Carson’s white fish doesn’t even bother me. I’m still careful to stick with a fresh salad of fruits, nuts and organic greens. The head chef created a unique mint-ginger dressing for me after hearing of my circumstance, and it’s delightful. Carson sips his white wine while I savor my fresh sugarcane juice. This moment couldn’t be more enchanting as we sit here under a cloak of luminous stars, gazing into each other’s eyes. I persuade myself to push my unsettling nerves aside, so I can appreciate our remaining time together.
A dwindling star captures our peripheral view. “Make a wish,” I urge him. He closes his eyes for several seconds and then opens them to reveal his sultry dark dilated pupils. I also make a hopeful wish of my own, asking for a happy movie ending.