The Accidental Mistress

chapter Twelve

"Mère? ?a va?" Zuri asked with the phone pressed firmly between her ear and shoulder. She tied the strings on her hiking boots.

"?a va bien. We're okay."

"Are you sure? I'm so worried."

"Ma chérie, please don't worry. Your father's gaining strength."

"Well enough to talk?"

"I don't want you discussing business with him now. He needs to be stronger. I told him we have time. He thinks that you worked a deal with the bank. I don't like to lie to him, Zuri, but he can have no stress."

"Oui, I know you don't, mère. And it's true. I have bought us some time. He shouldn't worry." Zuri stood before a mirror. She checked herself from front to back. For the hike she chose to wear khaki shorts and a yellow cotton short sleeve shirt with the logo of the hotel on the left sleeve. She wondered if she should put on a sports bra to keep her breasts from flopping as she tried to hike up the trails.

"Can you tell me what you're planning?" her mother asked, her voice strained and tight. "Detrick wants to meet with me, He says he has concerns."

"No, mère! He isn't to be trusted. I can't prove it but I think he's at the bottom of our problems somehow. He hasn't counseled père correctly."

"Zuri, he's your father's closest friend."

Zuri bit back what she really wanted to say. Was her mother playing at naive? Didn't she not see how Detrick Chevalier was around her, how he leered behind her father’s back. Why her parents trusted him so blindly was beyond her. “Things are improving. I will call you tonight to give you more of an update. Reach me on my cell phone if you need me.” Zuri’s head turned when the knocks came to her door. “à bient?t. I have to go, mere. I love you. Au revoir.”

Zuri opened the door and let a very angry Joi in. Her sister was dressed in the traditional red and gold madras she asked everyone to wear. Joi rolled her eyes at Zuri’s casual attire. “Where are you going so early?”

“I um, I plan to take Christophe, um Monsieur Montague for a drive down south to hike near Montagne du Vauclin.”

“That’s it! We need to talk.”

Zuri watched her sister march to her outside deck. Her stiff tone clued Zuri in that this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. “I’m running late. Can this wait until I get back?”

“I spoke to JP last night. He was very upset,” Joi said. She turned and faced Zuri. “He said he saw you go into Christophe Montague’s suite. He said that you were in there for a while. What are you doing, Zuri?”

She swallowed hard and tried to give a plausible answer that didn’t make her into the very thing Jean-Paul accused her of being. “It’s not what you think.”

“I pray to God it’s not! Because I have eyes too. I saw you with him. And this plan of yours, to be his partner, what kind of deals are you two making?”

“Not that!”

“Then what? The way you two kept staring at each other. You looked—“

“Intimate? That’s because we were, once,” Zuri blurted.

“You were?”

“Once.”

“When?”

“Not last night.” Zuri threw her hands up. She turned away from Joi’s glare. There were others out strolling through the outside walkways headed toward the beach. Many rose early to see the rose colored skies during sunrise. “Do you remember what happened In Chicago? My twenty-first birthday, when I met that guy in the hotel and went to his room?”

“Christophe Montague? Are you telling me that Christophe Montague is that creep that you slept with in Chicago?”

“Yes,” Zuri said sadly, avoiding her sister’s eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? The moment you knew who he was Zuri you should have told me. That explains all of this. Do you think you have some kind of connection with him now? Is that what changing your name and playing Queen Mother last night was about? Holy mother of God, Zuri! This is going to blow up in your face. Is this your plan? Your only plan?”

Zuri sighed. “I’m trying to save this place. Last night we connected. We talked. We’re both different people than we were in Chicago.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Joi paced with her hands to her head.

“It’s true. We didn’t do anything last night, Joi. He and I are trying to understand each other. He’s softening up to me.” To Zuri’s dismay, her voice broke slightly and her words sounded hollow as they left her mouth.

“Because he thinks you want to sleep with him, Zuri! He isn’t softening up to you; he’s trying to get laid.”

Zuri faced her sister. Her composure was the fragile shell that she hid behind. If Joi knew how scared Zuri was it would all fall a part. How could she make her understand when she didn’t? On the one hand she was drawn to Christophe, as any woman would be. On the other she loathed herself for even considering letting him touch her again. But even greater, what did it matter if she slept with him again if it saved her father in the end? “I know this doesn’t make sense. I need you to trust me. He didn’t plan to come here and take père’s hotel, our resort. He can and will help us. I just need a little more time.”

“To do what? Please him until he tosses us a bone. Where the hell is your pride!”

She watched Joi warily as she paced back and forth.

“I can’t let you play these games with this man. He hurt you really bad. I was there, remember? You don’t know him anymore today than you did then.”

Not so, her heart whispered back.

But even Zuri had to admit her mind was congested with doubts and fears. What if she risked it all and they ended up with nothing? “I don’t know what else to do. This is our only hope. And père needs this place. So we’ll just have to let this play out. Joi, I need your support here. Okay?”

“I’ll keep your secret. Let’s hope you know what you’re doing.” Joi stormed off the terrace and out of the suite.

“Yeah, I hope so,” Zuri mumbled.

Before she turned away, she caught a glimpse of a shadow from her peripheral view. Zuri strained and saw it was a man. A blonde man, who from behind looked like Elliot Montague, disappeared from sight.

Christophe inhaled the sunshine and tropical breeze washing over him. The 4X4 was open on all sides. He gripped the top bar of the jeep and settled back in his seat with his eyes trained on the passing scenery. It was best that he focus on the sights and make a considerable effort to keep from staring at Zuri’s thighs. He failed often. She wore her hair smoothed back into a chignon and she wore large oval shaped sunglasses. He noticed she’d give him a sidelong look every now and then as well. An undeniable magnetism and intense physical awareness was developing between them. He decided not to act on it just yet.


They travelled a two-lane highway that circled around and through a green mountainous landscape. Christophe couldn’t help but notice how flowers in the most startling brilliant colors of pink and blue grew wild everywhere he looked. Even the air smelled of fresh blooms. The further south they went the narrower the roads became. He would often turn his head to the right in awe of the rocky cliffs that dropped off into the sea. Zuri pointed out the harbor of the Forte de France in the distance.

“Tell me about yourself, Christophe?” Zuri said.

“What do you want to know?”

“Who was she?”

The question caught him off guard. Zuri gave him a look over her sunglasses and returned her eyes to the road. “The woman in those pictures that you ripped to shreds the night I met you.”

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything about that night,” Zuri said, working the gearshift and the clutch, which caused her to move her legs. It was sexy as hell. He again found himself staring at her thighs.

“She was my fiancé. Those pictures were of her with another man,” he confessed.

“Wow. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I hear she’s happy now. It was evident she wasn’t with me.”

“So when you and I were together you were engaged?” Zuri asked. She frowned at him. Christophe had to think on it. He hadn’t officially called off the engagement until his mother gave him the pictures. But Gabriella had left him months before, unwilling to put up with his interfering mother and his insecurities. “No. We were over. I guess I didn’t believe it until I saw those pictures.”

“Interesting,” she mumbled.

He couldn’t tell if she was putting him back in the creep zone, but he figured honesty was the best policy with her. Surprisingly, he liked talking to her. She was easy that way.

His phone rang in his pocket. Zuri turned up the radio as if to warn him not to answer it. Christophe chuckled. He checked the caller and saw it was Elliot. After his little tantrum he had no use for him.

The jeep veered right. Christophe looked up just as they drove into a dense forest. The unpaved road sloped upward, and he was thrown back against his seat, then pitched about as she revved the engine and forced the vehicle to maintain it’s speed over the rocky road. Zuri yanked down then pushed up on the gear stick, her actions drew his eyes to her thighs once more. Her footwork between the brake and the clutch, along with the way she navigated the vehicle with one hand, kept his eyes trained there. But the climb up the mountainside through the Savannahs was soon a greater distraction. The vehicle lifted on its wheels as if it would topple over.

“Maybe you should slow down,” he chuckled.

Her head turned and she gave him a sly look under the sunbeams through the cypress trees. Its rays gleamed off the dark orbs of her sunglasses. Her lips, brushed in a coppery gloss, curled into a smile. “You’re safe with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

The deeper they drove through the mangrove the more humid and damp the air became. He could feel the sweat running rivulets down his temples and pooling under his armpits. He glanced over at Zuri. Her thighs and arms glistened with moisture. Her heavy bosom bounced in her cotton shirt as they drove over the rough terrain.

“Why is it so hot?” he asked.

Zuri laughed but didn’t answer.

No matter which stretch of road she chose, he was certain that they were ascending. At first, the forest is shaded by large leafed manjack trees. The sunlight seeps in where it can. Then they travel out in the open across fields of tropical flowers in every color of the rainbow.

“Over to your right is where thyme and onions grow wild,” she said. “Ahead of us is the breadfruit tree forest. We’ll need to pass through some steep roads, so hang on.”

“Wait, and those weren’t?”

“Funny!” she giggled.

“You know these trees? They all look the same to me.”

Zuri nodded. She pointed to the left. “Those are white gum trees, and see the pineapple shaped roots over there. That’s from riveria wood trees, and of course all around you is mahogany and some bamboo. When we head back, I will take you around the sugar cane fields.”

“I’m impressed.”

“You haven’t seen anything, yet. Hold on!”

The jeep took a nosedive. For Christophe it felt as if his heart leapt out of his throat into his mouth. Zuri squealed with excitement. She spun the wheel hard left and they lifted on two wheels, then came crashing down. She steered wildly, and soon he knew why. Black rocks the size of boulders were in their path. Zuri seemed to anticipate each one in a split second, making sure to swerve around the immovable obstructions without killing them both.

“I think you should slow down!” he yelled over the roar of the engine.

“Hold on,” she yelled back. She turned the wheel again around an unexpected bend and the tail end of the jeep swung out in a half circle, sending up a cloud of dirt, grass and twigs. She pointed the vehicle straight for the denser part of the approaching mangrove. The palm and cypress branches slapped at him through the open sides of the window and the open roof of the jeep. Christophe threw up his arm to block off the stinging attack. “Zuri, are you crazy!”

“Sometimes!” she yelled back. He glanced over to see her bouncing in her seat like a girl on her favorite rollercoaster. All the while his life flashed before his eyes. There was no stopping her, and he couldn’t think and breathe at the same time to negotiate. It was so muggy hot in the forest. Every breath he took burned his lungs.

Zuri slammed on the brakes and they came to an abrupt stop.

“That was fun,” she wheezed.

“Are you nuts? You could have killed us!” he shouted at her.

Zuri’s smile faded. She took off her sunglasses and looked at him, concerned.

Now she wants to be concerned?

“Are you okay? I’m sorry. It’s best driven that way. I thought you’d like it.”

“Well you were wrong!” Christophe threw open the door and got out. He slammed it behind him. He looked around and became overwhelmed by bark and green. He had no idea how to find the main road if he wanted out of this psycho trip.

Zuri hurried around the jeep. "Christophe, I'm sorry. I was only trying to—"

"Where the hell are we?" he asked. He spun on her. "Tell me that. Where the hell are we?"

"Don't yell at me."

Christophe sucked down a deep breath. "I want you to take me back. I've seen enough."

Zuri smiled.

"What's so funny?"

"Are you pouting? You're a big baby."

"Shit, Zuri. I don't need this."

"Oh stop your whining. Look down."

His gaze dropped. He stood on a large black rock, cracked; it was rubbed as smooth as onyx.

"You're standing on craters from a volcano over a million years old." She pointed east. "Across that bridge is the way to Montague du Vauclin."

Christophe followed her point but he didn't see any bridge.

"I wanted to show you a place off the hike trail."

"Is it safe? Going off the trail?"

"Relatively. We have to be careful of snakes, and a few poisonous spiders and frogs but we'll be okay. You are the great Christophe Montague, corporate raider extraordinaire. Surely you're brave enough for an afternoon hike?"


Christophe put his hand to his forehead. Was she kidding? He could feel the sweat evaporating from his skin thanks to the heat. Zuri returned to the jeep and got their backpacks. She removed a bottle of water and handed it to him. "It's not that far."

She tossed him his pack then marched off. With no other choice, he followed. Through the bamboo trees, he noticed she walked a worn path. It was short, and led them both to the cliffs. Christophe stopped in his tracks when he finally saw the bridge crossing to the other side. "That doesn't look safe."

"It was made by the Carib Indian's hundred's of years ago, and I've run across it as a girl many times. Trust me. It’s safe."

The thing was handmade with thick roping and planks of wood. It could hold one person at a time, maybe. He couldn't even gauge what the drop beneath would be. "Is this your plan? Get me out here and throw me over into a volcano?"

"Something like that," she grinned. She stepped to him. She was so close her nipple points brushed his chest. He tried not to react, but he ached to do so. "I'll protect you Christophe, and before the day is over you will give me what I want."

"Why does that turn me on?" He reached for her. Zuri dodged him. Keep your backpack. You carry your own load. And follow my lead. Okay?"

Christophe exhaled; finally able to breathe when she drew further away. He watched the sway of her backside in her shorts and groaned. He was going to be punished dearly by this woman. He just knew it.

Zuri put her sunglasses on her forehead and slipped on her backpack. She tested the first wooden rung of the bridge. It rocked slightly. Christophe felt the pit of his stomach churn. Zuri grabbed both roped sides and stepped out. "Come on."

"Zuri, I don't think—"

She started across. Slow and careful she kept her eyes trained on the abyss below or was she watching her feet? Damn it! Should he share his fear of heights? Hell, he could barely make it to some of his favorite ski slopes in Aspen. His sparrow was fearless though. It was kind of thrilling watching her cross. Christophe hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders. Don't be a chicken shit. If she can do it of course you can.

He walked stiffly, almost forcing his legs to move to the bridge. By the time he reached it, his heartbeat pulsed in his throat, hammered in his chest, and throbbed in his ears. Suddenly he wasn't hot anymore, but chilled. He shivered. Christophe stepped a bit further and guessed the drop to be at least 300ft below. All courage drained from him as the image of his body tumbling down hit him full force.

"Zuri? I don't think I can," he mumbled. He glanced up. To his surprise Zuri had crossed. "Shit. Are you f*cking kidding me?"

She dropped her hands to her hips and gave him a sexy smirk. "Think about all that awaits you on this end. Nothing but air and opportunity between us now Christophe. So how long are you going to make me wait?" she called out at to him.

Christophe tucked his sunglasses in his front shirt pocket. His heartbeat skyrocketed when he looked down once more. He groaned and started to cross. The wood plank creaked under his weight and the bridge swayed. Christophe swallowed, bile rising in his throat.

"Don't linger, just move. You'll settle too much weight on one plank."

What did she mean settle my weight? Could they break? Am I in danger? His head lifted. Zuri grinned at him. She teased him.

"Oh come on. You can't possibly be scared."

Christophe had to admit that her taunting made the fear lessen. His ego rose to the challenge. No woman had pushed him this far. How did she manage it? Taking another step then another on the ten-inch wide wooden planks, he couldn't help but take the next as the bridge creaked and swayed a bit. Was this an active volcano? It couldn't be. Another thought occurred to him. How strong could the bridge really be in a rain forest after hundreds of years? Was she lying when she said the Caribs made it? The wood would have corroded. Right?

"Come on Christophe. You’re almost there."

Instead of letting his fears make him a bigger chicken shit, he crossed the rest of the bridge with hurried quick steps. His grip rubbed rope burns into his palms because he clutched the rails so tightly. At the end, he nearly ran off the thing. Gasping and wheezing, he doubled over with his hands to his knees. His eyes watered and his nostrils and throat burned for some reason.

"Drink some water."

Christophe accepted the water bottle with a shaky hand. She rubbed his back and the circular strokes felt so good. When he stood upright, she rose on her toes to touch his face. "You okay?"

"Tell me the truth about that bridge," he panted. "It's not over a hundred years old. Is it?"

Zuri dropped her hand. She forced both into her front pockets and rocked on her heel. Her cute sheepish smile revealed a dimple he some how missed before. "No. The bridge is tested monthly and repaired if needed. I made it up."

"You little minx," he chuckled.

"C'mon, we got a four mile hike, then we'll have lunch."

"Whoa... hold on there pretty lady." He grabbed her by the waist and brought her in close. She turned to face him. "Don't you owe me something for my show of bravery?" Christophe tightens his arm around her waist and leaned in so he could cover her. She was firmly up against his chest, with her arm pinned behind her back. She was so close he could feel the movement of her breathing through her breasts.

Zuri didn't struggle. He secretly wished she would a little. He liked her fire, admired her restraint. His crumbled when she let him touch her.

"Release me or kiss me," she whispered to him. Christophe had been drawn to her lips that instant. His mouth hovered close to the soft lush fullness he hadn't sampled since last night. He hadn't thought of her kisses often since the day began.

His hesitation was mistaken for refusal. She seized the opportunity. Lifting on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his lips. Permission granted, he gathered her into his arms. He wanted to taste her, drink her. He traced the fullness of her bottom lip with his tongue then slipped her a deeper kiss. Christophe's mouth covered hers hungrily. Her eager response both surprised and pleased him. Crushing her to him, he smothered her with demanding mastery. She felt soft and supple and he leaned in over her to feel and caress the curves that were driving him crazy.

Zuri turned her face away from the kiss, so he sampled her neck next. Her sweat and scent all tasted undeniably irresistible, but despite her petite frame she broke free of his embrace, picked up her pack, and walked off. More of her blasted teasing! The end was abrupt and he was so pumped with adrenaline. He was left to wonder if the kiss had happened at all. As fiery hot as it was, he had to admit to liking the chase. He would stalk her through the jungle to claim her eventually as his. Zuri didn't stop or look back for him. He had to be quick to catch up. It didn't take him long to recognize they were on another trail. The worn path through the forest at first part ascended what looked like a garden of tall green grass and wild yellow, orange, and pink flowers with blooms as big as his fist. "This place is beautiful," he called to her. He looked up and saw branches bent with the heavy bounty of ripe fruit. "Whoa are those—"

"Mango, and over there is apricot. Down there are yams and some Chinese cabbage, Lots of Chinese cabbage grows around here. Not sure the names of these flowers. I used to know, but there are so many different kinds here year round, I can't keep up. Be careful. This part is steep."


To keep his balance was becoming a greater challenge. His feet felt awkward and useless against the rough terrain. But he managed to try. Christophe went down the slopping path sideways, causing lumps and clumps of earth to give way underneath him. He struggled and lost balance. Zuri glanced back at him then shook her head, smiling. "Keep up, Christophe."

"Slow down, Zuri."

Finally, the climb up and down the sloping ridges ended, and they came out to a lush open plain. The sun blazed on relentlessly. His shirt was stuck to his chest. "We need to rest."

"It's only been fifteen minutes."

"Rest," he panted, shaking off his backpack. He struggled with the side zipper, before ripping it up and around the top of the bag to grab at the bottle of water. He drank the cool liquid greedily, it poured out of the sides of his mouth. Zuri came over and dropped down on the grass next to him.

"Why are you trying to kill me?" he finally wheezed.

"Oh, don't be a baby. I thought this would be fun. I thought you'd like to see the island."

Christophe sighed. "This is payback. Can't say I blame you, but I sure do look forward to a truce that ends in friendship and air-conditioning." He sat forward.

Zuri tossed her head back and laughed. "You are really funny."

"And you're pretty smart. Care to tell me the end game?"

She tugged at a blade of grass. "What's the fun in that?"

Christophe drank down big gulps from the water bottle. The wind carried in the sharp chirps and squawks of the colorful birds lifting from the trees and flying into the next. A shot of green scurried out of the tall grass and scaled a tree not too far from them. "Is that what I think it is?"

"An iguana, yep, or it could be an anoles. There are all kinds of lizards out there."

He nodded. Despite the heat, he had to admit serenity could be found in the forest, a harmony he wasn't quite used to. He could get used to a life of paradise.

"Did you always want to be big shot CEO?" Zuri asked.

"No," he answered truthfully.

"Really, what did you want to be?"

"A masseuse, a marathon runner, a guitarist, a poet—"

"Poet?" Zuri touched his arm. "Tell me some poetry."

Christophe looked down to where her hand rested on his arm. She didn't move it. He smiled. "Shall I say it in French?" he asked.

"Can you?"

"My favorite poet is Voltaire."

"Ah, then tell me some Voltaire?"

"Le prix d'amour, c'est seulement amour ...Il faut aimer si l'on veut etre aime."

Zuri smiled. " The price of love is simply love ...one must love if one wants to be loved. I should like to lie at your feet and die in your arms. That's really beautiful. We have a popular saying here. Aimer et être aimé sera la grande affaire de toute notre vie."

"To love and be loved is the greatest event in our lives," he translated. "Do you believe that?"

"I do, don't you? My père and mère are destiny. I want the same kind of love in my life one day." She slipped him a curious look. "Tell me some of your poetry, I want to hear it."

"Maybe, someday. Not really that guy anymore."

"What guy are you?"

"Today, I'm not so sure."

She lowered her hand. "I should tell you something. My family, Jean-Paul and Joi, are on to us."

Christophe turned his head to look at her. "After last night?"

Zuri nodded. "JP saw me go into your room. I told Joi the truth about our past and she thinks you'll turn this situation around on me. Take advantage then steal our hotel."

"Is that what you think?"

"No. I think that soon you will see things my way. You will help me. Even if you don't know it yet."

"Zuri. I'm a businessman, and for the record I'm not a thief."

"You're a man first," she smiled. Rising, she extended her hand to him. "And I'm a woman who can take care of herself. Don't you worry, monsieur. I have my eye on you. Now, let's go."

He took her hand and she pulled him up. Again he was surprised at how strong she was for her size.

"This way. Where we go now not many hikers venture to. Follow my lead."

They walked through an area she referred to as the Station of the Cross. It was actually a crucifix trail that had candles on every side. He wanted to ask about them but she kept walking as if the strange ceremonial candles were a normal part of the landscape. He fell a few paces behind. Maybe it was the altitude. Either way, his breathing thinned and his lungs burned. Due to his height he had to constantly swat large leafy palms out of his face, which Zuri sidestepped with ease. Before long, he panted. It made no sense. He should be able to do the hike easily.

They walked in silence, mostly. Which felt fine. There was plenty to observe, especially flowers with blooms so colorful and large they didn't seem real. Trees everywhere grew with strange twisting barks. They appeared to be shaped by the wind. Every now and then he'd see a spotted frog or speckled bird or a snake or two.

Christophe didn't think himself out of shape. He boxed, ran marathons in Central Park, and swam laps for at least an hour every day in his private gym. But he felt exhaustion moving knots of tension through his limbs, causing striking pains to center in his lower back and distress in his calves.

"Pace your self Christophe. We’re at a higher altitude so the air is thinner." She looked over her shoulder, and confirmed his suspicions. Could she read minds now too? He mumbled his acceptance. Even if he wanted to grab her and ravage her on the side of one of the large gum trees, he didn't have the strength. He smiled. Maybe that was the point.

"Okay." Zuri stopped. She placed her hands to her shapely hips. Her head went back and she surveyed a steep slope that was taller than them both. "We have to go up to get down."

"What?"

She turned on him. "Do you have vertigo?"

"Verti-what? No. You aren't seriously proposing we climb that rock?"

"Yes. See those there. Those are spikes, nailed in by the people who live in this region. It's a ten to twelve foot climb at the most. Easy for a newbie like you. What are you six feet? Yep, you could definitely do it."

"Without gear? You want to climb without gear?"

"It's easy Christophe. Just make sure your feet hit the spike and your hands grip the ones above you tight. I promise where we're going will make it all worth it."

"No thanks! I'm done." Christophe backed away. "I'm not made for this sweetheart."

"Oh posh. Don't wimp out on me now. I'll go first you big baby."

"Zuri, you're not listening love. I'm exhausted. And this is dangerous, we shouldn't be taking these risks this far out in the middle of nowhere."

"Just a little bit more. I can help you with your exhaustion. You'll feel like a new man when we get to where we're going."

She wasn't making any sense. What could be up that cliff that would make him feel good? A helicopter, hopefully, to take us back to the hotel. Before he could stop her, she walked up and started to scale. He watched her do a spider climb with her legs apart and arms stretched wide. She went up slow and gracefully. Christophe held his breath when her foot slipped. He was about to go for her when she reached the top. She heaved herself over. Zuri stood, dusted her hands and smiled. "Your turn."

It was insane. Reckless. And he couldn't help but be tempted to try. Christophe wiped his hand down his face. Damn, it's hot today. He had half a mind to take off his shirt and ring it dry. The further they went, the longer and harder the hike back would be he felt certain. She did know that. Didn't she?


"You coming or what?"

"Yeah, yeah." Christophe heaved a deep sigh. He rubbed his hands dry on the front of his jeans and then walked over to the wall of rock hard earth. He could see little black beetles crawling in and out of the pockets of soil they'd burrowed into. One of them could scurry out on his hand and he would loose his grip then fall and break something. Then what would his devious tour guide do?

"Christophe?"

"I'm coming sparrow. Give me a second." He reached for a spike and found it rather hard and secure. Still his palms sweat and it weakened his hold. He grabbed the other and began the climb up. Finding a spot for each foot, he reached again, mimicking the way he saw her do it. With his right hand to a top spike, he put his right foot to lower spike. Christophe was panting hard. The pack on his back felt like it was weighted with rocks. His hands trembled and the fear made his legs weak. He grabbed the next spike with his left and raised himself with his left foot. Soon he found a rhythm that seemed too easy. And before he knew it he climbed over the top of the cliff. Zuri stood there clapping and grinning. He had to admit that he had been quite impressed with himself.

When he got to his feet, he found a vision of beauty behind her. As far as he could see there was a glistening sea of red and green. "Wow."

She turned and spread her arms out. "These are the sweetest raspberries you will ever taste. And they don't belong to any planter who would mind you picking a few. Here is where we will have lunch.

To Christophe's surprise, it was much cooler at the top of the ridge. She picked a perfect place for lunch. He looked up to see the mangrove nearly touched the clouds. A stirring breeze was captured in the big palm leaves and swept downward to cover them in a cooling wave that was continuous. It was like nature’s air-conditioning.

"This is paradise."

"One of many. You hungry?"

"Um, yes. Actually I am."

"Good, in your backpack is a small blanket. Spread it out for us. She dropped to her knees and shook off her pack. He did as she asked. She revealed a few small containers. His stomach growled.

"I have some goodies from the kitchen. Some left over blaff and matoutou."

"What is matoutou?"

"It's lumps of crab meat cooked with rice. You'll love it. Here." Zuri handed him his container and a fork. "And for desert we get to feast on wild raspberries."

"You sure are a woman of surprises."

"Never gone hiking?"

"Not like this," he said.

"Strange, that the richer you are the more you miss out on the sweet simple things in life."

"You come from privilege," he said, stuffing his mouth.

She gave him a strange look. "What gave you that impression?"

Christophe swallowed. "You own two very exclusive resorts. I figured."

"My père and mère raised us to enjoy all aspects of life. I've been over the world, and still nothing compares to here." She looked over to the field of raspberries." Her voice trailed off.

"What is it?"

Zuri started to eat again. "I guess it wasn't until now that I realized that home was where I belonged. I've had my eyes closed a bit longer than I thought."

"Sometimes we can't see what's right in front of us," he agreed.

They ate in silence. The food was that good and the silence had become ever-so comfortable, not the kind he felt obliged to disturb. When he was done he wanted to sleep, stretch out in the cooling breeze of the rain forest with the smell of raspberries and ripening banana’s filling his nostrils. She must have felt the same. She lay back next to him and together they stared up at the swaying leaves on long upward stretched branches.

Christophe couldn't pass on the opportunity to get close to her. He eased over and lifted on his elbow to stare down at her. A hot ache grew in his throat as he opened his mouth to say something witty. He closed his mouth, realizing that he didn't know the words to express what was running through his head.

Zuri’s lids lowered. Now, she was only marginally aware of his struggles. Still, it didn't make him braver. In fact, he had to admit he questioned himself constantly when she was near. He wanted to make her crave him. That desire grew stronger and stronger. It was enough for him to consider her crazy proposal of a merger. Something Montague has never done, especially with a small independent operation like the Oasis that he suspected was mismanaged.

Christophe gazed down at her and she continued to observe him through lowered lashes. She lay with her arms folded behind her head and her ankles crossed. All of her was petite and flowerlike. The rise of her breast as they strained against her cotton shirt, her curved hips that made the shorts hug and fit sweetly added to her beauty. Under the sun, her cinnamon brown thighs glistened with such radiance he couldn't help but touch her.

She had fine hips and shapely thighs, just as he liked on a woman. He glanced up to her face, wondering if his touch disturbed her. She wore a hint of a smile that indicated it didn't.

Now he could see her face without the fear of her thinking him weird for staring. Her high exotic cheekbones, delicately carved features, full lips made her strikingly different than the women who filled his bed. Before his vow of celibacy, he had, known and enjoyed many. And even with Gabriella, his passions never scratched the surface of the raw desire Zuri stirred in him. Maybe it was because she denied him the pleasure. There weren't many things in life denied him, which might explain his perpetual state of boredom.

Christophe continued to caress her thigh, and maneuvered his fingers under the trim of her shorts. Her lashes swept downward and rested on her cheeks. She had a chin of iron determination. The duality of her strength and fragility made him desire her desperately. To touch her had been a privilege. So felt gentle and he became careful to not raise her ire once more. He brought his hand up and traced a finger from the small dimple between her brow. Slowly his finger went down her slender nose to the tip, and then over her lips, which was her second best feature next to her eyes.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Zuri?"

She smiled. Thankfully her eyes remained closed or else she would truly see the effect she had on him.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" asked Zuri.

"No." he said.

"No." she replied.

"Why?" he asked. He wasn't sure he could believe that she didn't. She wasn't just the regular kind of beauty that made men want to touch her. She was that kind of beauty that made men want to posses her. He may have been an idiot but he felt certain there were plenty other men that knew what a prize she was.

"School," she mumbled.

"School? I thought you were done with school?"

"I finished law school. I was supposed to take the bar next week."

Christophe sat up. "Will you?"

She opened her eyes. A frown marred her pretty features. She stared at him. “No.”

"Why?"

"Why do you think? My father had a stroke. Haven't you been paying attention to anything I've said to you?" She got to her feet, and threw her hands in the air. Suddenly she was angry, and damn it to hell she was again angry at him. "My life isn't my own, especially if you take away our company. How we make it from here, I don't know. It'll kill my father."

"I... didn't know."

"Right, because you didn't care to know."

"That's not true."


"Really? So you care? How much?"

"Enough to want to help you, Zuri, but that doesn't mean I give you what you want. I'm not here for that."

"Then why are you here!"

Christophe felt his own anger surfacing. Maybe she wasn't that different from all the other women. All of them wanted something. "I'm beginning to wonder that myself."

"Let's not discuss it now. It's time to go." She snatched up her things and packed them. He had pushed too many buttons, but at least now he confirmed the source of her pain and her interest in him. It was the one she called père—her father. Christophe shook out the blanket. He folded then tucked it in his pack, taking time to grab another bottle of water. It was a cooling refreshment and he drank from it until the plastic bottle collapsed in the center. He followed her through the raspberries. Though she stumped through the bushels, he stooped and picked some berries, tossing them into his mouth. He had never tasted anything so sweet. He grabbed a few more and caught up with her. Soon they were back on the trail, and after another hour of walking he ached in his thighs and at the soles of his feet. The hike put a strain on muscles he didn't know existed. Under the crunch of dry grass and leaves, Christophe thought he heard what sounded like rushing water. He looked around and couldn't tell where it was coming from. The rain forest had closed in on them once more. Tree monkeys shook the branches above them.

"Zuri, are there rapids near by?"

"Waterfalls, a few of them. But we aren't going that way. Keep up."

"Would you slow down please?"

She didn't. Christophe fast walked to catch her and now maintained her pace at her side. "I wasn't being insensitive back there. I said I wanted to help you and I do."

"So are you going to call off the acquisition?"

"How does that help? The bank will collect whether I do or not."

"My proposal. The merger. It’s a fair proposal."

"Is it? From where I stand you benefit, not Montague."

"What an arrogant way to say things—"

"Hey, I'm being honest."

"And a little too smug. We may not be Global like your company but we cater to a market that you need if you want to expand in the Caribbean."

"Fine, let's not fight. I need the facts."

"You have the facts. The bank has given you everything."

"I'm not a idiot, Zuri. The bank doesn't know what put you in financial crisis. It just knows that you don't pay your bills. I want to know what the Blue Oasis profit margin truly is against your yearly spend. I need to see how you manage things day to day. You're covering up something, and until I know what it is—"

"I'll grant you access," she mumbled, leaving his side.

"Zuri. wait, let me exp—"

Zuri stopped, and he nearly collided with her. She pushed him back. Her hand went behind her to warn him to remain silent. At first Christophe thought she might have seen some wild animal. He had no idea what animals lived in these forests, but he imagined poisonous snakes and spiders were in all the trees, maybe big cats like jaguars or leopards? Then he heard what stopped her, movement to the east. They waited.

I don't have a weapon and she's barely over five feet three standing in front of me, this is crazy.

A young boy stepped out of the trees. He had burnished brown skin like Zuri and curly thick afro. He wore tattered clothes, and no shoes. And in his hand was a shotgun aimed at them both. Christophe immediately grabbed Zuri by the waist and forced her behind him.

The young boy, maybe fifteen at the most, yelled something at Zuri. Christophe's French was rusty but he was certain he heard him the boy tell them to hand over their packs. Zuri refused, trying to step around Christophe, but he kept pushing her back with his arm.

"What did he say?"

The boy lifted the gun and aimed. "It's okay, here, we'll give you what you want."

"No, Christophe! Don't."

Christophe immediately stepped toward the boy, being sure to put himself between Zuri and the gunman. He eased off his backpack. Zuri spoke in patois, and the boy yelled his defiance. None of it made sense and the added mix of the rifle had Christophe wanting to act. But how? And more importantly why was Zuri challenging the kid. The idea of her being hurt overwhelmed his sensibility. With the pack in his hands, he gestured to pass it to the kid. The boy lowered the gun, but he continued to yell angrily at Zuri. Did they know each other? Christophe seized the moment. He threw the backpack at the kid who surprised, dropped the gun and fell. Christophe snatched up the gun as the boy scrambled away, and before he could stop him he was on his feet and running back through the bush.

"Why would you do that? You could have been killed," Zuri exclaimed coming to his side. "Are you okay? He didn't shoot you did he?"

"No. Wait, this is a pellet gun." Christophe turned over the rifle. It had expelled it's only round.

"His name is Pierre. I know his brothers. He was trying to scare you.

"Are you kidding me? What the hell is he doing with this thing? I thought you people didn't allow any of these weapons on the island?"

"You people?" Zuri frowned.

Christophe rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean it that way, I'm saying Martinican's. I thought weapons like these are banned?"

"They are. Who knows how he got it. The other day in Sainte Marie I heard a gun go off. Maybe it was that thing. We'll turn it in to the gendarmerie. They’ll deal with him."

"Is he following us?"

"You scared him off. He's probably halfway down the mountain now."

"That's a comforting thought."

"I'm really disappointed in him. He's a good boy. Why he would do this I don't know. I hope he hasn't robbed any other tourists," she said. Christophe picked up his pack and followed her.

"What were you two yelling about?" he asked.

Zuri shrugged. "I told him I would tell his brothers. He said it was my family fault they left for Guadalupe to find work. We've had to make cuts on the staff."

They walked for another thirty minutes in silence. The sweltering heat, as they crossed open fields, had his face and neck burning. Christophe was about to call for another break, when she stopped. "We're here."

"Where is here?" he looked around.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Hot."

She surprised him again by touching his chest, then his arms. "Are you sore? Your legs, your feet?"

"Ah, I guess."

"Where I'm about to take you will heal all your pain. It's a part of the island that only Martinican’s visit. This is a privilege Christophe. We don't share it with tourists, do you understand?"

"Okay," he nodded.

"North of Martinique is Montagne Pelée, what we call the 'bald mountain where the black and grey beaches are. South, is where the white sand beaches are, and some of the most accessible springs."

"Springs?"

"See there?" she pointed. He saw nothing at first. He stepped forward and saw a steep narrow path that dipped through some thick foliage. "What is it?"

"The way we go down will be on our backsides. Don't worry about how we get back. I know a short cut."

"Then why didn't we take the short cut?"

"Because you have to earn your entrance. It makes you more appreciative. I think you're ready now. Be careful. Take your time."

Christophe groaned. His big frame would barely squeeze in the three-foot wide opening. But he'd come to far to give up now. Zuri went first. She dropped on her butt and angled her body as if she were to slide down. Then she was gone. Christophe went after her. He realized that it was indeed a dipping slide of sorts, paved in moist dirt. He eased down. Just as he went for it his hand slipped and he found himself sliding several feet through the bush. He regained control half way in and used the heels of his shoes to brake his descent. To his relief, he scooted the rest of the way.


He emerged. Zuri waited patiently for him. Behind her was a waterfall, cascading between a black rock. To his right was an open crater the size of a small pool. Steam hovered over the top and he soon realized it was filled with water.

"Look, Christophe."

His eyes lifted to the wall of rocky cliffs lining the hot spring. Once he focused, he was able to see Native American petroglyph's of animals and a woman who looked to be in the position of giving birth. Her knees were up and a smaller figure looked to be emerging between. "Is that, real?"

Zuri nodded. "Authentic? Yes it is, I think this was a place of fertility. Isn't it amazing how preserved it is? Thousands of years before occupation, the caribs lived and thrived here. Reminds you of what Martinique once was."

"Its amazing," he said in awe.

"You don't know amazing yet, but you will. Beneath us, in the depth of the earth is a vein of lava flowing from the sleeping volcano. Its heat rises and warms this spring and ones like it. These waters can soothe any ache, any pain."

A shirt hit him in the back of the head, and dropped on his shoulder. He frowned removing it, and turned. Zuri had begun to undress. She didn't shy from his inspection. She kicked off her shoes and brought down her shorts to reveal a low-cut pair of black panties. "Come on Christophe. This is your reward."

She rolled off her socks and walked over to the spring. He watched as she lowered into the clear turquoise water. It didn't take him long to drop his pack and the pellet gun. He shed his clothes. Down to his briefs. He was exhausted. The minute he submerged into the hot spring he exhaled. The water enveloped him in warmth. He wanted to slip under the current. It wasn't just the warmth. He tingled in his sore muscles as the waters pulsed and massaged him from the tips of his toes to his torso. Christophe stretched his arms out on the black rock and dropped his head back.

"Amazing," he exhaled.

He drifted into such a relaxing state that was indeed akin to a spiritual cleansing. He could understand why this would be a place to give birth. He never felt more alive than he did now. His mind cleared of everything.

"How do you feel?" he heard her soft voice drift in, and wanted to respond. All he could do was groan. He could die in that moment and go peacefully.

The water stirred, lapping at his chest. Slowly he opened his eyes. Zuri came in close. "I told you the hike would be worth it. And you can truly enjoy it when you release your burdens here. We have many springs like this on the islands. In Sainte Marie near the Lagoon, we take the guests to a man made one we secretly heat for them. They don't know the difference. Places like these, Christophe, are part of the island’s treasures and sacred."

"Then I owe you a heartfelt thanks for bringing me here."

"You know how you can thank me," she said.

"Yes, I know what you want, Zuri."

"Help me, Christophe."

"I'll help you," he said.

Zuri smiled. She came in closer. "You were cute earlier, my hero. You wanted to save my life with a backpack? You thought that gun was real?"

He nodded.

She drifted to him. Christophe lowered his arm and guided her to his lap. She straddled him with her knees bent against the rock. There she rubbed her covered slit against his groin and stirred a rush of pleasure through his shaft. He wanted to do away with their underwear but couldn't verbalize the thought. Something about the hot spring and her sweet body so close was truly blowing his mind.

Liquid heat pooled all around him and seeped in through every pour. And yet nothing felt nicer than the softness of her p-ssy resting on his cock. He struggled to calm his racing breath. It was as if his lungs couldn't take in enough air. Christophe fingered the clasp to her bra. She lifted her hands out of the water and captured his face as he released the cover of her breasts. She pressed her parting lips to his. There was a dreamy intimacy in their kiss now, with the warm spring lapping against their skin. He immediately brought his hands between them to cup her breasts. It was his intent to arouse her passion with his tongue while he gave a gentle massage to the plumpest nipples he's ever known. They grew stiff and swollen as he plucked each. He had to have her again. All of her.

"I want you, Zuri. Now," he said swallowing her tongue once more.

"Okay, she whimpered, bringing her mouth from his. She prepared to rise off him but he couldn't bare the separation. Instead he tugged on her panty and the thin lacy fabric was ripped from her hips. She smiled and her brows raised up in amusement.

"I'll replace them," he grinned.

"What about yours?" she asked. "Can we rip those too?"

He realized how foolish he was in destroying her panty when he had to rise to remove his boxers. Zuri chuckled and drifted back in the smoky waters. She grabbed the floating undergarment and tossed it over the side of the spring. She pulled off the band holding her hair into a ponytail, then submerged into the water. When she stood in the water, wiping her hand down her face, her hair lay wavily from the root to the ends. Christophe rose. Miraculously, he didn't feel an inch of soreness in his body. It was amazing. He removed his boxer shorts.

"Condom?" she asked.

The word was like a lightening strike, it thundered through his mind, making his dick soft. Christophe stood knee deep in the spring with a woman he'd been craving for years and no condom. "Huh?"

"Do you have condoms?"

"No, why would I?"

Zuri shrugged. "No glove, no love."

"Are you serious?"

"Afraid so," she said rising and removing her bra. His eyes lowered to what she expected him to pass on. He'd wrap his dick in a banana leaf to get inside of her right now.

"Zuri, you can't do this to me."

"This is a fertility pool, Christophe. Look—" she pointed at the petroglyph.

She had a point. He was beginning to believe in magic, mystics, voodoo, whatever made the waters of the spring feel like he was bathing in sunshine.

"No glove, no love?" he asked again.

She smiled. She walked over to him, letting the tips of her fingers graze the water. Her heavy bosom with its large nipples bounced lightly at her approach. When she was right before him, she looked up at him with those big round eyes and he nearly contemplated the unthinkable. She pressed a kiss to his chest. She ran her tongue over his nipple and his cock twitched. "I can still please you, Christophe," she said, and her hand slid to his groin. He slowly lowered and she went with him, stroking his shaft. Her small hand had a firm grip. She squeezed and released with each upward tug. She traced her tongue up over his chest, and then his neck. Her mouth covered his once more. Zuri tightened her grip and pumped his dick. He bucked his hips twice as the tightness built in his chest and his balls. He wanted to be inside of her. How could he not? He suffered as he imagined what it would feel like. He needed to be inside of her, her mouth, her p-ssy, something. This had become torture.