“You should be ashamed. You’re about to give communion.” Judy tried to sound severe, but she was smiling.
Harley rolled her eyes. “He’s come in for coffee.” She paused and weighed her words. Oh, what the hell! She was a grown-up and could say what she wanted. “I’d like more, but he’s a complete gentleman.”
“So you like him?” Judy glanced at the crucifix on the altar and then turned to Harley.
Harley hesitated. What exactly did she feel? “Yeah, I like him.”
“It doesn’t bother you that he’s from Egypt?”
“What in hell is that supposed to mean?”
Judy colored a deep purple. “I didn’t mean anything. I just know a suicide bomber killed John.”
“Not all Muslims are kooks, Judy.” Harley was surprised at her own anger. Tears pricked her eyes like tiny pins. She stared ahead at the altar. Why was Judy disparaging someone who made her happy?
Judy stared at her for a long time. “No, of course not. I’m not a bigot.” She slipped an arm around Harley’s shoulders. “I just don’t want to see you get into something you regret.”
Harley sighed. She suddenly wanted to sleep. “We always regret things. I’ve already stacked up a few. Your husband’s gone, too. Don’t you wish—?” Harley bit her lip. Her stomach tightened into a knot. Judy had been working while her husband was sick. He’d died in hospice without her at his side. Judy still was haunted by his death and her absence during his last hours. She stared ahead while Harley spoke. Harley cursed her own insensitivity and leaned closer to her cousin. “You couldn’t do anything else, Judy.”
Judy retrieved a tissue from her purse. “I know that. I just wish I could have been with him at the end.”
“Look, I don’t know what this is yet, but I’m having fun. We like the same music, movies, and plays. I also don’t have to pay half. I’m not sure how I feel, but I can talk to him easily. Anyway, you and Donna don’t seem to think women can live without men. You’ve both been at me to meet someone for years.”
“Yeah, the normal way.” Judy shook her head.
“Internet dating is the normal way these days.” Harley shrugged resignedly. “Look, I teach with nearly all women. The men at my school are gay or married to women with better careers. That’s only changed a little bit over the years. How else would I meet new people? The people in my neighborhood or here at church are elderly, infirm, or hooked up like the animals in Noah’s Ark.”
Judy smiled slightly as she glanced around church. “I see what you mean.”
Harley slipped an arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “Stop worrying about me. Besides, today I have bigger fish to fry. Communion, remember?”
Judy turned to her, frowning. “Are you okay to give out communion?”
“I think so. I’ll just do some deep breathing before I go to the altar.” Harley kept her tone light, but she was dreading the palpitations that always accompanied her Sunday obligations. “If I faint, call the crash cart.”
“Take it easy, okay?” Judy’s gaze rested on Harley for a long time.
“Don’t be such a mother hen. I’m fine.” Harley grinned mischievously. “Besides, I might let Abisi know I want a little more than a peck on the cheek. I’m starting to wonder if he can do the deed.”
Judy laughed softy and looked around. They were alone in the pew. “They usually can do the deed a few minutes before they’re embalmed.”
Harley handed communion to the congregation of St. Anselm’s. She fought the feeling of panic when she ascended the altar and breathed deeply. Her cold hands eventually regained their warmth, and her heart stopped pounding out of her breast. Harley now heard her mother’s voice ringing in her ears. “You didn’t do a thing wrong. You took care of me like an angel. Don’t feel guilty. You were loyal to your husband. It’s time you lived.” With those words, Harley’s panic vanished, and she found herself thinking of Abisi.
Their dates had been platonic so far, but they had discussed everything from politics to history to civil rights to music. Republicans, she argued, used race and morality to polarize and incite jingoistic passions. He disagreed. History differed depending upon who wrote it. They both agreed. Abisi said that Listz was the greatest classical composer. No, the greatest was Wagner. The Beatles were the world’s most creative rock band. Well, who in hell could disagree with that? Harley argued that John Lennon was the Fab Four’s driving force. Abisi countered that Paul McCartney’s influence was greater.
What she liked was that he listened to her when she spoke and didn’t try to change her mind. He accepted that she had a right to her own thoughts and opinions even as he debated her. What also sent pleasurable shivers through her sinews was how erotic she found their arguing. She even trusted him enough to tell him about her covert life as a writer, and was pleased when he responded enthusiastically.
“I can’t believe you’re a Republican.” Harley said the words without rancor. She’d seen Abisi through most of June. They were sitting on the couch in her living room Fourth of July weekend, sipping wine. Nico lay at Harley’s feet, snoring. He occasionally flicked at a fly that buzzed around him with his bushy tail. Harley had opened her windows so they could appreciate the breeze blowing even on a balmy New Orleans night.
“It’s political.” Abisi drew her closer and took a sip of wine.
“How so?” Harley followed his gaze as he took her in. She could sense his desire, and she’d dressed to encourage it. Spaghetti strap flowered blouse, diaphanous wraparound skirt, and white sandals. She’d seen her stylist the day before and had added the auburn tints that drew stares. His arms were strong as he clasped her shoulders.
“In the South, that’s the trend.”
“I don’t follow trends.” Harley grinned at him.
“There’s something appealing about that.” He touched her cheek lightly and kissed her. His gaze met hers and lingered. That smile was so sensual that liquid flowed through every sinew of Harley’s body.
Electricity pulsed through Harley, setting her insides on fire. Her spine tingled as his breath feathered against her hair. “You-You were saying?” Her voice was hoarse.
“I don’t give them a dime because of their policies on immigration. Isn’t this country, after all, a country of immigrants?” Abisi let his hand slide along her bare shoulders.
“I agree.” Harley let her face brush his own. His beard against her lips tickled. “Then why are you a fan of such a party?”
Harley saw that he was clearly trying to concentrate, but he was losing the battle. His stare rested on her cleavage when he answered in a choked voice. “I wouldn’t call myself a fan, my darling. I guess I just wanted to be accepted down here when I became a citizen.”
Abisi ran his lips along her arm and onto her shoulder. He’d apparently forgotten about Republicans. The sensation of his lips caressing her sent an electric shock wave through her whole being. Trembling with sensual energy, she buried her own lips in his neck and moaned with pleasure as he touched her neck with his hands and then his lips. Nico glanced at them and padded down the hallway. Harley smiled to herself. Smart dog. She disengaged herself from her lover’s hungry kisses long enough to slip her tightly clinging blouse over her head. Abisi moaned with obvious pleasure, covering her taut breasts with kisses before lifting her in his arms. Harley’s skin turned to gooseflesh as he devoured her with kisses. She giggled as she unbuttoned his shirt and watched it slide to the floor. Unwrapping the skirt from around her waist, he nibbled at her stomach as if she were a feast. In a few seconds, they were both completely naked.
Harley knew they wouldn’t even make it to her bedroom. Abisi lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He lowered her to the floor as his hands gently caressed the rosebud of her womanhood. Harley sighed deeply as the stubble protruding from his chin tickled h
er soft flesh and sent spasms of pleasure through her midsection. Warm liquid flowed through Harley’s being as she moaned with uncontrollable pleasure when he caressed her, his hands moving along her breasts, her hips, and her thighs. She traced the contour of his jaw with her fingers, reveling in the waves of energy the warmth of his skin imparted. His beard tickled her soft flesh, and she gasped softly as her reawakened womanhood called to her lover. Harley’s hunger was a volcanic force that surprised her. Her experience outside of her marriage had been minimal, but she devoured the sensuality of her lover’s touch with hungry kisses. He kissed her chin, lips, and eyes. His hot breath bathed her forehead and filled her with raging desire. She ravenously met his kisses as the warm liquid in her midsection spread throughout her body, leaving her moist and ready.
Abisi was as hungry as she. He caressed her face with skilled hands while his lips feasted on her neck and shoulders before settling on her hard, taut breasts. When he sucked on her nipples, waves of heat raced through Harley’s blood. He made his way slowly across her body, nibbling on her thighs until they opened and thrusting his manhood inside of her. Harley closed her eyes and held onto his neck as he moved within her most private part. Her whole body grew taut as the man let his lips caress her neck with undisguised rapture. Waves of hot lava swept over Harley. She cried out softly and buried her face in her lover’s neck. Slowly, tantalizingly, she let her lips linger on his neck while he devoured her in kisses. She felt his muscles vibrate as she ran her tongue over his neck and then let her fingertips gently scan the muscles along his arms and back. He clasped her head in his hands, his fingers intertwined in her hair as he covered her breasts and neck with kisses. Harley felt him grow hard over her as his manhood exploded inside of her like molten lava.
Minutes later, they lay on the floor together, sated. He rose, retrieved a sheet from her bedroom, and wrapped her in it. Neither said anything as Abisi settled Harley in the crook of his arm. She nestled against his chest and listened to the beating of his heart while he took a swig of wine from the bottle. She took it from him and swallowed a long draught. The warm Merlot glided down her throat as its warmth flowed through her veins. The sweetly intoxicating grape lingered on her tongue as it numbed her body. Harley and Abisi finished the bottle of wine before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning, Harley rolled onto her side to watch him as he slept. An elaborate tattoo covered one shoulder blade. A heart. Harley paused. What had compelled him to put that heart on his back? She drew closer. The lettering above the heart grew clearer. J-E-S-S-I-C-A. His daughter. His one true love? Harley looked closer. Underneath the rose was etched J-O-R-D-A-N. Who was Jordan? His wife’s name was Maureen. Harley frowned at the spark of jealousy ignited inside her psyche. She laughed softly at her possessiveness. The letters could have spelt his late wife’s name. That would be much worse. Besides, she wouldn’t ask him about anything upsetting after she’d had such a good time.
Harley rose, walked into the bathroom, slipped on a T-shirt and panties. Time to put on the coffee. Nico appeared from the spare bedroom, wagging his tail. She stroked his ears and let him out the back door. Harley heard her lover stirring in the living room. She glanced at the backyard as Nico roamed, chasing a squirrel. Firecrackers littered the yard. The Fourth of July. In Abisi’s arms, Harley hadn’t heard a thing. In his arms, she’d felt safe. Harley stared through the window. The familiar white bird chirped happily in an oak tree.
“Dad, what do you know about this woman?”
Abisi could hear the worry in his daughter’s voice even though they were thousands of miles away.
“She’s no ax-murderer, if that’s what you mean.” He’d phoned Jessica from his office at the hospital in one of the few spare moments he had, and he certainly hadn’t planned a major discussion of the intricacies of his love life, but his daughter had sensed some change in him and persisted.
“You just have to be careful, for God’s sakes.” Her clipped British accent was too much like her mother’s, but he’d loved them both. Maureen had on occasion driven him close to murder, but her passion kept him coming back. Now, he’d found the same kind of ardor in Harley. In some ways, she was like Maureen. Very prim on the surface but smoldering layers of volcanic intensity under a peaceful façade. Why shouldn’t he be happy? God knows he’d been single long enough. That one disastrous romance after Maureen’s death, but . . . His daughter’s voice pulled him back to the present.
“Maybe she wants a meal ticket, as the Yanks say.”
Abisi switched the cell to his other ear. His daughter was too skeptical for being so young. “She works, Jessie.”
“A teacher. She can’t make much money. Does she know that you inherited money from Gran and Granddad?” He heard her sigh in undisguised exasperation.
“No, and she hasn’t asked.” The conversation was beginning to gall. “Is it so impossible to imagine someone wants me? I know you think I’m old, but even men my age can want happiness.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Her tone softened. “I just don’t want to see a repeat of that whole Kimberly episode. That woman saw you as an easy mark, and she moved on you.”
Well, Abisi had to agree with Jessica on that one. Kimberly had been a clear disaster. She was a few years Harley’s junior but inferior to her in every other way. They’d met at a party soon after he arrived in New Orleans, and Abisi had been charmed by her vivacity and unpredictability. Soon, the relationship spiraled out of control. She pouted when he didn’t take her to the most elaborate restaurants. He bought her a car for her birthday, but she disparaged the brand. Abisi enjoyed walks along the river or in the French Quarter. Kimberly liked loud clubs where people had to scream above the music. Their association ended when she humiliated him at the hospital Christmas party. She accused him of flirting with a nurse and tossed a drink on him. The whole fiasco was doubly humiliating because she now worked at the same hospital as an x-ray technician, and Abisi suspected her obtaining the job was no accident. He avoided her and refused to dwell on the experience.
“Yes, yes, Kimberly was a mistake, but I think Harley will be around for some time. In fact, that’s why I called. I wanted to tell you I’m going to invite her to London for your wedding. I didn’t expect such debate or I wouldn’t have said anything.” Abisi took in a deep breath. He wanted Jessica to like Harley.
Jessica was silent on the other end. “Yes, well, the wedding may not be until next summer anyway, Dad.”
“Why?” Abisi swallowed. He liked Geoffrey. He really believed the man was good for his daughter.
“Well, we’re just very busy with the fall collection, and I won’t have time to plan. This is more important.”
“More important than Geoffrey?” Abisi shook his head. He sometimes wondered if his own troubled marriage had soiled his daughter’s perception of love.
“Well,—er, no, of course not.” Jessica replied evasively. “Look, Dad, I must run.”
“Are you seeing someone else, my darling? Is he?” Abisi’s heart contracted. He wished his daughter had no complications in her life.
“Don’t be preposterous.” She laughed dryly. “I really must run. The boss is about to hold a meeting.”
“Of course, of course.” Abisi motioned to a doctor standing in the doorway and rang off. Jessica wasn’t telling him the whole truth. Why was love so damned complicated? His own feelings for Harley Michel were a simmering cauldron, and sometimes, the intensity of his emotions frightened him. Was his daughter right? Was he too old to risk hurt again? He knew Harley would be angry because he hadn’t told her the whole truth about Jordan, and hard knots formed within his stomach when he imagined her rejecting him and staring at him with hatred in her eyes.
“Hey, do you want to have lunch with me?” Harley approached Abisi from behind and thrust her arms around his neck. He was typing at the computer in his
office.
“This is a pleasant surprise.” He swiveled around and kissed her. “I’d love to, yes, but we can’t take too long. I’ll have to be on duty soon.”
Harley slipped her arm in his. “I’m out and about, too. Hospital cafeteria. We won’t take long.”
Within a few minutes, Harley and Abisi sat together at a table, munching on cheese sandwiches and small green salads. “I’m out because I have to order books for next school year. So, I’m off to St. Cyprian’s. I can only do the ordering in July.” She cut into her salad. “New fiscal year.”
“I see. So you decided to pay me a visit.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled.
Harley grinned. Pleasing him sent warmth through her insides. “You make it sound like I’m the doctor paying a house call.”
He winked at her and slipped his hand in hers. “You are good for my health.”
Harley blushed deeply. He could make her feel like a schoolgirl. John had been her equal in all things, but Abisi was older, more sophisticated, and flattered her. She smiled and looked down before meeting his gaze. He made no pretense of hiding his desire. “So, anyway, I’m headed Uptown.” Harley stopped mid-sentence when her gaze caught that of a woman staring at her with deadly intensity.
“What?” Abisi frowned and squeezed her hand. “What is it?”
“Don’t make it obvious. A woman is staring at us. An attractive brunette. You can’t see her. She’s behind you.” Harley looked down as Abisi looked behind quickly and then turned back. She studied his face, sensing panic. “Who is she?”
He swallowed, put down his sandwich, and averted his gaze. His voice was soft and hoarse. “Kimberly.”
Harley’s chest tightened. Jealousy coiled around her guts like a smothering snake. “Who in hell is Kimberly?”
The Doctor and the War Widow Page 6