Love's Golden Spell

by William Maltese

  “I assure you, the feeling is mutual,” he said, and kissed the sensitive spot where her neck smoothly curved to meet her shoulder.

  He wasn’t shy about his body. Bob had been, and Bob’s uneasiness had made her feel guilty and embarrassed for enjoying the sight of her husband’s muscled nakedness. It was different with Christopher. He made something undeniably right about taking lovemaking out of the darkness.

  “I prefer my lovemaking with the lights on,” he had told her when they were poised at the entrance of a dark basement room at Lionspride, Janet afraid to enter for fear of what advantage he would take there.

  “My shower,” he reminded her, although he seemed less and less determined to take it.

  “In a minute,” she assured him. Hooking the elastic top of his shorts in her fingers, she pulled them down, revealing an un-tanned part of his body that she had never seen before. The sheer powerful beauty of him numbed her. “About that shower,” she muttered. She was going to tell him to forget it, but she didn’t. “I think we should take it,” she said instead.

  “We?” He held her at arm’s length, her suggestion obviously meeting with his approval.

  “We,” she affirmed, taking his hand. She led the way to the bathroom, where Christopher hurriedly adjusted the temperature of the water while Janet took off her shoes and clothes.

  “Need a little help undressing?” he asked. She shook her head. It was quicker this way, and there would be time later for more leisurely explorations. The sooner she was naked in his arms, the sooner they could treat themselves to the pleasures they both craved.

  Christopher stepped into the shower, leaving the curtain partially open and glancing at Janet. She faced him, blushing because of his obvious approval. He adjusted the water to make it more comfortable for her, but he needn’t have bothered. She would have joined him no matter what the temperature. She had a heat burning inside of her that would have survived the worst Arctic storm.

  The tub of the bath-and-shower combination was over six feet long. There were several strips of special no-skid adhesive along the bottom to keep them from slipping.

  “Oh, Janet, Janet,” Christopher murmured, taking her in his arms when she stepped into join him. He kissed her eager lips, and then turned her beneath the soothing jets of warm water. His hard chest flattened her yielding breasts.

  The combination of hot skin and warm water was undeniably sensuous as his hungry mouth traced the smooth curve of her neck to her shoulder. His butterfly kisses sexily backtracked along the arch of her throat, pausing where the frantic race of her pulse heralded her increasing excitement.

  She caressed the length of his strong back and the twin mounds sculptured at the base of his spine. Resting her hands there, she pulled him nearer. They were as close as two people could get without achieving the ultimate closeness.

  He outlined her lips and teeth with his tongue, adding fuel to their mutual fire. He turned his back to block Janet from the jets of water, reaching for the soap in the nearby niche and hastily ripping off its wrapper. Within seconds his fingers were lathered and beginning slow and smoothly caressing movements down her back and farther. He slid his hands around her sensitive derrière, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he touched.

  He turned her soapy back toward the hardness of his stomach and chest. Leaning back, she rested her head against his neck, her wet black hair clinging to his chest. He drew slippery whorls up her stomach to her breasts. Her nipples hardened. His nipples, too, were as hard as thumbtacks against the foamy slickness of her back. He massaged her breasts tenderly, lovingly. “Christopher, oh, Christopher,” she moaned, nothing but her utterances of his name adequate to express her feelings at that sublime moment. He moaned a guttural undecipherable reply into her ear.

  On weak legs, she shifted her position and took the soap from him, lathering his corded neck and broad shoulders while his hands held her waist and offered support. She soaped his chest and his stomach, his body still a barrier protecting her from all but an occasional splatter of spray. She touched him as she hadn’t touched any man. Her fingers explored, and Christopher made no move to interrupt the freedom of their movement.

  She watched what she did, and her pleasure was increased by her seeing.

  She stretched to put the soap back in its niche, then flattened her hands on the ripples of his stomach and gazed deeply into the black-flecked sunny quality of his eyes. “Love me,” she said, stirring the lather caught within the curls of golden hair beneath his navel. “Love me,” she repeated, pulling her hands away. He groaned loudly when next she touched him, reflexively thrusting his hips closer.

  “I do love you,” he said, his voice husky with pleasure. She gasped in accompanying wonder, her mouth exploring his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly. He looked down, his stare wide and glassy. Quickly, though, he focused and smiled. “And this,” he said, “is heaven.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Yes, oh, yes, oh, yes!” She tilted her head so her lips were easily his. At the same time, his hips revolved slowly, conjuring up a flaming heat that quickly melted her insides to golden dew. Her fingernails dug into his strong neck. They were both gasping for breath. She was caught in a supernova of exploding emotion. She eagerly entered the special world of love’s golden spell, and Christopher joined her in the flames.

  It was all Janet imagined it would be and more. Much, much more.

  * * * * * * *

  HE SLEPT on his stomach, his cheek resting against her heart. His arm was thrown covetously across her waist. The sheets were in disarray, kicked that way during the heat of the night. Her head was propped on the pillow, and she had an excellent view of the tapering of his body from his broad shoulders to his narrow waist.

  Lazily she combed the silky softness of his hair with her fingers. He groaned contentedly in his sleep, like a cat purring after a feast on heavy cream. The blond strands caught the light from the lamp left on all night. Outside the sky paled as morning approached.

  She took pleasure in the moment and wished it would last. But he stirred, on the verge of waking. He turned his face to her breast, nuzzling her nipple. She was excited by the sensuousness he exhibited even in sleep. Her nipple hardened in response, and she slid her hand along the gentle curve of his spine.

  Begun in sleep, his desire increased when he awakened fully to find her beside him. There was no denying the force that merged them in love.

  The magic of their union had not diminished. The feel of him, the taste of his lips, the sound of his breathless sighs were pure unadulterated enchantment.

  There had been ecstasy in their adventurous lovemaking in the shower and in the eager embraces that followed, but their present pleasure was more intense because of its slowness. There was a delicious tension in carefully layering one degree of enjoyment upon another.

  His hand flattened on the bed, his arms straightening to push himself up. “I want to see you clearly while we make love,” he said huskily.

  “And I want to see you,” she murmured, gripping his forearms and looking deeply into his eyes. He was virile and handsome, his striated muscles working sensuously beneath his tanned skin. His arms strained with the effort to keep his torso curved away from hers.

  She splayed her fingers across his chest, delighting in his nearness, in the mere fact of having him this close, this touchable, after so many hopeless years. “Oh, Christopher!” she whispered.

  He released the tension of his strong arms, lowering himself. “Janet,” he whispered; his voice soft yet rough.

  She moaned in reply, her hands sliding out from under his chest to clamp his shoulders. Through blurred eyes, she saw his neck arch back. She heard his response. She shut her eyes and tossed her head helplessly from side to side in fevered passion, her black tresses whipping the whiteness of the pillow.

  Her long and sensuous slide into oblivion wasn’t disappointing, because it was a true sharing. He didn’t stop his kisses and car
esses too soon. As he sighed “I love you,” his hands stroked gently at her breasts, and then lovingly cupped her undulating hips. He snuggled closer and kissed her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, and the curve of her neck.

  “I love you, too,” she said finally on a long sigh of her own, gently biting his shoulder, even now hungry for the taste of him.

  They cuddled in the warmth of passion’s afterglow. When they finally parted, he stretched, turned toward her and smiled. “And what do you say to two people very much in love witnessing the beginning of this new day in a very special way?” he suggested, drawing his finger delicately along her jaw line. He obviously didn’t mean from the comfort of their bed, either. “Come on,” he said, getting up. The sheer beauty of his naked and athletic body still took her breath away. “We can make it to the top of the Acropolis before sunrise.”

  “The Acropolis?” she echoed disbelievingly.

  “When Christopher Van Hoon plans to propose marriage to the woman he loves, he deserves the entire glorious backdrop Mother Nature can provide. Right?” She’d heard what he’d said, but it didn’t sink in. Love and marriage did go together, but somehow marriage to Christopher had remained an unattainable dream, despite what had happened between them. “Well?” he insisted. His pants were on, belted and buttoned. She was too dumbfounded to move. “Get up, Janet! Do get up!” he insisted playfully.

  She remained in a daze while she dressed. He was standing at the window, checking the skyline and his watch when she finished. “We’ll have to hurry,” he said, taking her hand.

  Her feet seemed to have wings as he pulled her across the parking lot to his Land Rover. The moon had set, and it wouldn’t be long before the rising sun bleached all remaining starlight from the sky. For the moment the valley was still in shadow, the horizon not yet tinged with morning gold. The Acropolis was a dark silhouette that loomed on their left as the Land Rover sped along the deserted roadway.

  There were three routes to the top of the Acropolis, all of which required walking. The Northwest Stairway and the Southeast Stairway had been major approaches during the heyday of Great Zimbabwe. The former was presently overgrown and hardly used. The latter was a steep climb. The third approach was a more gradual ascent constructed for tourists who preferred sight-seeing with the least possible exertion. But even it was no piece of cake. Janet was panting within minutes of leaving the Land Rover and starting the climb. “I’ve got to rest,” she insisted, leaning against a massive boulder that was incorporated into the wall of the stairway.

  “Maybe I should have been less spontaneous,” he suggested with an apologetic grin. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”

  “If I survive, it will be a good idea,” she grudgingly admitted. There was something romantic about getting up before sunrise and hiking up a mountainside to witness the dawn of a new day and the dawn of her new life with the man she loved. He was proposing marriage to her once they got to the top of this mountain—if they ever got there. “Let’s move,” she said, pushing away from the boulder and heading up more steps. There was still no evidence of sunlight frosting the distant outcroppings, but it wouldn’t be long.

  “Funny, but I don’t remember the climb being this strenuous,” he said magnanimously. Janet blushed. He was being gallant.

  When they reached the ruins at the top, there was a warren of pathways from which to choose. Christopher knew the way. He’d been there before, but not under such special circumstances, he told her.

  The Royal Enclosure was on the western tip of the escarpment on a natural ledge in the Turret Wall. The wall had been named after the succession of small round towers along its top. By entering the Royal Enclosure and climbing the Turret Wall directly to the left of the Cliff Entrance, and by facing east, Janet and Christopher had an uninterrupted view of the horizon.

  Janet was initially too tired to enjoy her successful race with the sun, but when she got her breath, she took in her surroundings and could understand why the locale had been picked for a fortress. It commanded a spectacular panorama of the surrounding countryside, so there would have been plenty of forewarning of attack from any direction. The narrow pathways to the summit assured an easy defense of the top.

  But the breathtaking landscape and the defense capabilities of the citadel weren’t what held Janet’s interest at the moment. Christopher had that. When he enclosed her in a tender embrace, she was concentrating totally on her undeniable love for him.

  “Janet Kelley Westover, will you marry me?” he asked as the sun spilled golden light over the horizon. It was a wondrous moment, one to tell their children and grandchildren about. She was glad he had brought her to this special place at this special moment.

  For a brief instant she remembered that he might yet find gold at Great Zimbabwe, which would interfere with the survival of the animals left in the area. On the other hand, his chances of discovering gold were remote, by his own admission. There was no point in cluttering her life with maybes.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you, Christopher Van Hoon,” she said, because for her it was a dream come true.

  The Great Zimbabwe Valley emerged fully from the darkness, revealing the work of others who had stood and dreamed on that very spot. As blissfully optimistic as Janet, nothing but heaps of deteriorating rubble came of their expectations.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FOR JANET, the next few days were happy ones, despite the overhanging threat of a major gold find by Christopher’s team. The team left each morning, sometimes not reappearing with ore samples until nightfall. The samples were shipped to Salisbury every night on a special plane out of Fort Victoria. In Salisbury, the ore was analyzed for gold content and the results telephoned back to Great Zimbabwe before the team left the next morning.

  Janet wanted to spend more time with Christopher, but each of his trips into the bush assured a quicker completion of the V.H.A.M. project. The sooner he was sure none of the old sites were reusable, the sooner Janet and he could get on with their lives. More and more assay reports came back negative, and Janet continued to hope for her fairytale ending.

  The time she managed to have alone with Christopher was marvelous. To her delight, there was much of the boy still left in the man. Vincent Van Hoon had been less successful in distorting his son’s character than Janet had first thought. Christopher was loving and caring, and it was true that he hunted animals only with his camera since promising Janet all those years ago that he would never kill another gazelle.

  Their hours together were spent rediscovering joys of each other’s company. There was a lot catching up to do. Neither one’s life had stood still during the past sixteen years.

  With Christopher so often out in the field, Janet’s days settled into a fairly predictable routine. Immediately after his early-morning departures, she had coffee with Craig, during which she either confirmed or amended the daily itineraries the V.H.A.M. team had officially filed the night before. For the most part, Christopher’s people were pretty good at keeping Craig accurately informed of their whereabouts—which pleased Craig and made Janet more confident of Christopher’s safety.

  Perhaps her confidence was misplaced. After all, Dr. Nhari’s radio transmitters, which gave Craig knowledge of the elephants’ whereabouts, didn’t keep those animals out of harm’s way. Since the research team had been ordered out of the reserve there had been thirty more elephants found slaughtered. No one knew how many other dead ones were unfound and uncounted. The two hundred elephants that Dr. Nhari’s team had estimated were in the reserve for transfer were being cut down to zero in no time.

  Janet didn’t visit each new spot of unfeeling slaughter, but she did keep up on the killings. She knew that whoever was supplying the poachers with information on troop movement was continuing do so. Elephants were continually attacked in sections of the reserve not assigned a patrol for that day.

  Janet often drove out with Christopher or Craig to check on Melissa and Suzy.
The safety of the mother and daughter rhinos was important to her. It proved another endangered species could breed naturally and survive in the reserve.

  “Well, one more day of miracles!” Craig exclaimed, pointing out Melissa and Suzy grazing contentedly among some nearby trees. Craig looked haggard, an aftereffect of his latest bout with his superiors in Salisbury a couple of days before. Rumor had it that he would be replaced as commander if he didn’t start getting results—and fast.

  “Do you want to find some shade and catch a catnap?” she suggested, concerned by his evident fatigue.

  “The lack of sleep is beginning to tell, is it?” he asked, giving her a small smile of gratitude.

  “Maybe you were always ragged around the edges,” Janet ventured with a good-natured shrug.

  “No,” he admitted, putting the Land Rover in gear and heading back toward the hotel. “Actually, I’d love that catnap,” he said. “However, I can’t spare the time. I shouldn’t be out here now, but I needed a few minutes away from the rat race.”

  “They came down on you pretty hard in Salisbury this last time, did they?” she ventured. He obviously wanted to talk about it.

  “Can’t blame them, can I?” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m not getting results, am I? Dr. Nhari is screaming bloody murder that whatever chances the elephants had were shot out from under them when I kicked out his transfer team. Who knows? Maybe he’s right.”

  “You were thinking of his and his men’s safety,” Janet reminded him.

  “Try telling that to Dr. Nhari,” Craig replied bitterly.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t tell anyone, but I haven’t the foggiest,” he admitted. “All my efforts to get the poachers have me chasing phantoms. All my clever plans to trap their informant have been even less successful.”

  “I wish I could help,” Janet said sincerely, It was hard to see someone like Craig depressed because of poachers who cared nothing about Africa or the preservation of the continent’s wildlife.