Chapter 8

Carmina was sewing when he entered the cottage later that afternoon.

She started and her hand flew up to her breast, and then she saw it was Vic and she smiled. It was like her mother's smile, placid and accepting, but it had only a trace of understanding and experience compared to Isabela's. Isabela was like a mature mascot who knows her master's wishes beforehand and out of years of association does what is expected of her. Carmina was like a puppy who doesn't understand that anything is expected of her, but goes along with it anyway because he is the master and she loves him and wants to please him.

"I'm so glad to see you," she said in her high, delicate voice.

"I've come to take you away for a few hours," he said.

She nodded gladly. "I don't like it here."

"I know you don't, little flower, but you must stay here as you're told."

"Why?"

"Why?" Yes, why? How do you begin to tell this child, he wondered, about-well about life? "There are people on the island who can harm you. They will go away soon, but until they do we want you to stay away from them."

She nodded again, but she didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about. She was leaving her fate in his hand, and if he said this was the right thing to do, it was the right thing to do. That's what her nod meant.

"Where are we going now?"

"I thought we'd go out on a sailboat, just you and I. We'll go far out in the ocean, and we'll talk and swim. And maybe I'll make love to you."

"Okay," she said.

"Just like that? Okay? Doesn't what I just said mean any more to you than 'Okay'?"

She looked puzzled. "You said what we would do and I would like to do that, so I said okay. Is it not okay?"

"Yes, you wonderful little infant, it's okay."

He took her by the hand and led her down the path to the beach. He went along cautiously, jumping at every snap of a twig. He suspected his comings and goings would be watched carefully from here on in case he decided to double cross Sparling. He was sure he'd been able to get away from the hotel undetected, and nobody was likely to be on the beach at this hour, since they were all at a cocktail party up at the hotel. He had had an urgent need to see Carmina, to make sure she was all right, and he had slipped away down to the dock. As he started down the beach he saw the sloop he'd had brought in and decided it would be nice to get away from it all with Carmina for a little while.

They reached the edge of the forest and raced across the beach, hopped into the boat and pushed off. They headed north and he made her keep her head down until they were a good distance out to sea, in case someone with binoculars took it in his head to find out who was in the sailboat.

They had a good leeward breeze and soon they were cruising along at a good clip, away from the island, away from the danger. Vic took off his shirt and sat contemplatively at the tiller, watching Carmina intently. She had a hand in the water and peered at the surf with child-like curiosity. Every once in a while she'd look up at him and laugh sheepishly, and then she'd gaze back into the water again, thinking big thoughts which she would never be able to express. Finally she looked up, serious and disturbed. "If the wind is coming from behind us, how is the sailboat going to get back to the island?"

He made a dozen attempts to describe how the combination of a boat's keel, the position of the sail, and the maneuver known as tacking enabled a sailor to make way against the wind, but ended up by shrugging his shoulders and saying "Let's hope the wind is blowing the other way by the time we're ready to go back."

"Okay," she said, a little dubious, but having perfect faith in him. A little while later she said "I have been to Cat Island."

Not knowing exactly what to do with this information, but sensing she was very proud of it, he said with mock solemnity, "You have seen a lot of the world."

"I have," she agreed. "But it isn't so hot."

"It isn't."

"No. Cat Island is like Topaz, only bigger."

"Oh. I guess if you've seen one place, you've seen them all."

"Yes," she said, a little wearily.

"It must be terrible to be so jaded at such an early age." She nodded emphatically.

They sailed on a bit more, and then he suggested they stop and go for a swim. He adjusted the mainsail while she threw out the anchor, which almost succeeded in throwing her out with it.

They faced each other for a moment, indecisive and a little ill at ease, and then, with a startling combination of frankness and modesty, she pulled her dress up, over her head, and off. Vic's lower lip hung down stupidly for a moment, and then he regained his composure.

But he couldn't help gazing at the loveliness of her body. It was lithe and sleek, a rich creamy beige. Although she wasn't very tall, her slenderness gave that impression of length. Her legs were slim and firm, and her breasts were fuller than he had thought when he had last seen them held tightly down by her sarong. They were high and they sloped upwards to her rosy brown nipples.

She leaned back on her hands and stretched out, exhibiting her loveliness to him and looking wistfully at him for approval. He was not long in giving it to her. "You are the most beautiful creature that ever walked the earth," he said, moved by an emotion so strong and so pure he thought he might cry.

"Now you," she said.

He removed his pants and stood before her. She put a hand out shyly and touched his broad chest, then ran it over his stomach. There was nothing sexual about the gesture, and he did not get aroused . She was merely appraising him. "You are also a beautiful creature," she said.

They stood a long moment taking in the beauty of each other's face and form. It was more than a tropical breeze that whipped between them. It was also a turbulence of the mind and heart, the mutual attraction, the mutual desire, the mutual need, all unspoken, yet as palpable as the sea that lapped gently at the stilled boat, and as powerful as the dark thunderhead that billowed and boiled on the western horizon.

She leaned forward slightly and he put his hands out to her waist.

Suddenly the spell was broken. She giggled like a schoolgirl and dove overbroad. Her body described a graceful arc, her back arched, her breasts stretched tight, her long legs closed and fully extended, her small ripe buttocks causing no interruption to the delicate slope of her spine. For a moment she was suspended in midair as though time had stopped, and then she cut into the green water with hardly a splash at all.

Vic stood flatfooted, pouting in mock frustration. She came to the surface, brushed her raven hair out of her eyes, and let out another devilish titter. "You tease," he shouted, shaking his fist."

"Come catch me," she shouted back.

He stepped up to the gunwale and poised there for a moment and readied to spring. Just as his body tensed itself for the leap she disappeared. He aimed for the spot where she had just been and sliced into the center of the ripples. His hands were out and he groped for her but came up with nothing.

He rose to the surface and as the brine drained from his eyes he heard her giggle again. He spun around and saw her hanging onto the boat. He made straight for her and when he was a few yards away there was a big splash and all he saw was an ankle and a blur of toe and she was gone. He headed to the right to cut her off and when he arrived there she was to his left at the prow. "I'll get you yet," he yelled, panting, and took off for the prow. Again she ducked under just before he got there. He treaded water patiently waiting for her to pop up and nothing happened. He began to grow worried until he heard "Here, Vic," on the other side of the boat. Stealthily he ducked down and swam under, peering through the emerald green for a trace of her olive flesh.

Naturally, nothing was there when he arrived.

"Okay, the joke is over," he called, getting just a little peeved.

The answer was-silence.

Then there was a finger on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Carmina leaning over the side of the boat, looking very smug. Her breasts hung down freely, quivering and glossy. He reached a hand up to them.

Just as it was about to close over one of them she took a deep breath and squirted a mouthful of water in his eye, giggling and shrieking and jumping up and down like an obstreperous chimpanzee.

He took a mouthful of water himself, scampered over the gunwale and grabbed her ankle just as she was getting ready to leap over the side. She wriggled for a moment, realized it was useless, and relaxed. She lay panting and exhausted waiting for him. He grabbed her by the shoulders, brought her body against his and put his lips near hers.

And then he blew the water into her face.

They laughed and laughed until their sides hurt, and then it was time to stop laughing.

It was time for seriousness now. He sat down on the leather cushion aft that ran across the beam. She got up and lay on her back across his knees, her head cushioned in his left arm.

"We've talked and we've swum," he said, looking down at her angelic face, still glistening from the water.

"And now we will make love," she said.

"Yes, Carmina, now we will make love."

"What is it like?"

"It can be many things,' he said, running his fingers down her underarms and over her smooth breasts, which were now gentle slopes lying low on her body because it was arched over his knees.

She shivered. "Do that again," she said. Again he let his hand caress the flesh of her arm and her breasts. The tips began to pull in the dark flesh around them and rise up. "And again." They were hard now, like a couple of young cherries.

"It is many things," he said once more. "It is pleasure, like this:" he let his fingers glide over the nipples. She sucked her breath in sharply and pulled her knees up. Her breath came perceptibly faster. "Or, it can be pain, like this."

"No, it is not exactly pain," she said. "It was a nice pain, like scratching an itch."

"Yes, that's what it is like. But this is like the biggest itch and the biggest scratch."

"I feel funny inside," she said, running a hand over her abdomen.

"You'll feel a lot of things now," he said, getting up and resting her on her back.

She looked up at him with worried eyes. He smiled his assurance to her, then kneeled and placed a tender kiss on her lips. His tongue moved cautiously forward, flicking against her lips as if asking permission to enter.

His hand traced a pattern from her underarm slowly over her breasts, across her smooth, silky belly, lightly down her thighs and over her buttocks. He'd pause over the firm flesh of her behind, cupping it in his hands and gripping it firmly, then releasing it and sliding up her spine. With each fondle and caress her body would gravitate to his hand, thrusting against it when he touched some highly sensitive nerve.

She expanded her chest when he touched her breasts, letting them rise up and flow into his palm, urging the tip up between his fingers, sighing when his fingers closed over it. Her stomach grew tight when his hand reached it, her thighs quivered to the touch and her legs moved restlessly. He paused on her thighs and began a circular motion, dipping a little lower each time, and each time he did her pelvis would lift.

Her sighs were coming faster and faster, her eyes becoming hazy with ecstasy, her lips pouting, her body shaking with expectation.

It was time.

He rose over her and looked affectionately at this shy flower who soon would be virgin no longer. Her body stretched out vulnerable before him, helpless, a little afraid, but ready to accept whatever the initiation had in store for her.

He raised up on his knees. "It will be okay, he whispered.

She nodded bravely.

Then he covered her with his body. Her eyes shut tight and she winced, on the verge of crying out but holding it back, biting her lower lip until it was white. Her fists clenched, pounded his back, and then opened and he felt her nails sink into his shoulders. "Oh Vic it hurts so much, so much, so much," she cried, tears welling over and disappearing into her hair.

"I know, my darling," he whispered close to her ear. Their bodies relaxed for a moment and they remained entwined in each other's arms. She caught her breath, but her face was drained of all color.

Involuntarily her hips began to move slowly and smoothly.

"Vic, something is happening."

"Yes, darling, yes," he murmured, feeling his own rhythm beginning its pulse.

"Don't stop," she said, her voice taking on a tone he had never heard before, like that of an adolescent turned mature in the course of a moment. "Oh Vic, oh Mon Dieu!" There was a deep convulsion, her moist flesh engulfed him and pulled him into a vortex. She clung to him and pulled him against her with a newfound power. That delicate body he was so afraid of crushing seemed to be made of iron now.

Gone was the child, and gone for him was the last trace of his own youthfulness, which he had given to her in exchange for hers. They were man and woman now, kissing deeply, drinking of each other's limitless fountain of love, loving unashamedly in the middle of an endless ocean under an endless sky. Two people for whom the rest of the world did not exist, nor space nor time.

They were man and woman now.

Vic felt a cold splash on his back. Looking up he saw the northwest sky growing dark with rain clouds. The sea had grown choppy and a wind was stirring over the port bow.

"You see, we're lucky after all. It's time to go back, and the wind is blowing toward Topaz. I told you to leave it to me."

She nodded and smiled, but there was something in her expression that said "I know you're only teasing me. You can't fool me any more. The wind belongs to the earth and you don't have any control over it as I thought you did. You're not the magician I thought you were when we set out to sea. This has been a great, wonderful voyage for me, Vic. I left Topaz a girl and I return to it an adult. The world has lost its wonder and magic. There's an explanation for everything, and if I am patient I will understand. But what I do not understand yet is-what is this beautiful feeling in the depths of my stomach?"

Vic understood and left her to her thoughts. He weighed anchor himself, let the mainsail baloon out, and headed for Topaz.

Carmina sat beside him, her head against his chest, wondering.