Pictures of You Page 8

  Fortunately the meal went well, despite the throbbing finger which now joined Eva’s muscles in rebellion. The men, with the exception of Roberto, complimented her profusely for the delicious fare, appreciative of the toll her work must have taken on her exhausted body.

  As they ate, the conversation revolved around their anticipated arrival the next day at the deserted mine, where the Espinhaco Topaz was last seen.

  “Where did you find that map, Roberto? Have you ever been up here before?” Tom’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  “The map belonged to an old man who lived in Terra Vermelho. I had known him well as a child, since I spent much time here. When he died last year he left the map for me, knowing of my interest in such adventures. No, I’ve never been to this mine before, though I’ve traveled through the Serra do Espinhaco many times. I used to guide groups of visiting explorers, thus the old man knew of my passion!” Here he looked at Eva, the double meaning thick on his tongue.

  Eva looked away quickly, hoping that none of the others would catch the suggestion. Jacques now picked up the train of conversation, his accent lending an air of romance to the expedition.

  “Why has the old mine been unexplored for so long? Did no one try to find the Topaz before?”

  Roberto was prepared for this query, as he continued his narrative. “The native Brazilians hold many superstitions, one relating to a primitive creature, half man and half beast, who wanders the Serra do Espinhaco. The map has been passed on for three generations, each one either fearing to search for the Topaz or unable to organize an expedition. I am not a superstitious man, though I would advise you not to wander too far from camp tonight.” He finished with a sly, almost demonic smile; in that instant Eva could have believed this man to be related to the legendary creature.

  Eva had been sitting with the others in relaxed formation around the glowing embers of the fire. The air was comfortable now, devoid of chill yet a sharp contrast to the day’s heat. It entered her mind to photograph this intimate and friendly gathering, but the thought of disturbing her weary bones was too painful. She had, as it was, removed her sneakers to expose the raw blisters on each heel to the soothing air. Now she opted for pure relaxation, joining the discussion as she found it becoming more and more fascinating.

  “What will we find, exactly, when we get to the mine, Roberto?” she asked, unconsciously batting at the small insects which, attracted by the light of the dying fire, swarmed about.

  “That I can’t tell you. I’ve had to guess as to what equipment to bring. At best we’ll find the entrance to the mine and its long corridors open. My map directs us from the top, so we won’t get lost once inside the mine. It could be easy sailing all the way, right to the ledge on which the Topaz supposedly sits.”

  “And at worst?” interjected Pierre, the pessimist always.

  Roberto turned toward him, his expression growing more serious now. “At worst we’ll find the mine collapsed—shafts, entrance, everything. We have some digging equipment if it’s just the case of one corridor or another being blocked. Also, if it’s just the entrance, we can probably dig through. But if it’s the works, then it would take many more days than we have supplies for and much heavier equipment than ours to extricate the Topaz. In that case, our little jaunt will have been in vain, at least in regard to the Espinhaco Topaz.” His sad smile echoed Eva’s sentiments, although she was beginning to wonder if the Topaz would indeed be the greatest memory of this trip for her. Her own sad smile turned to Roberto, and in that moment she knew that when she returned to New York the memory of him would probably outlive that of the Topaz. For in his strangely quixotic way he had awakened feelings within her that she thought to be long dead. He had made her feel alive again, at times gloriously and at times regretfully, but nonetheless alive!

  What insanity, she scolded herself! What was she thinking about this Roberto de Carvalho? Women were his specialty—charm them, seduce them, then desert them. She wouldn’t let herself fall into that trap. But she was jumping the gun, wasn’t she? He despised her as much as she wanted to despise him. He thought she was some cheap tramp, a sex-starved black widow, he had called her. She’d have to keep her distance, she warned herself once more. She couldn’t trust him, and she feared increasingly that she couldn’t trust herself.

  “You look so sad, Eva. Does the prospect of seeing the Espinhaco Topaz mean so much to you?” Roberto’s mocking tone broke into her thoughts, causing a blush to creep up from her neck camouflaged only by the fading light of dusk.

  Her head jerked toward him. “Ah … no … I mean, what a shame it would be to have come all this way and be thwarted by nature itself! What could cause a collapse of the mine? Are there earthquakes around here?”

  “No. No earthquakes. No blizzards. Just rain. Not very often. Not very long. But when it comes it hits hard. Torrents. Over the years a few such torrential downpours could have gradually weakened the structure enough to have caused a cave-in.”

  “But when was the last time the mine has been seen … open?” Tom broke in.

  “A group of Canadian hikers scored the Serra do Espinhaco four years ago,” Roberto replied. “Although they were mainly here for the hiking, one of them was an historian doing a dissertation on the Brazilian gold rush and its profound effects on the country. As they hiked, he mapped each of the paths they covered, labeling the location of each of the mines and its condition. When I came into possession of this map, I contacted him and he confirmed that four years ago this mine entrance was open. I would have come soon after I got the map, but I had neither the time nor the company then. As I said, none of the natives want to come up here. Fortunately for us, Carlos is beyond superstition. And he needs the money!” He smiled warmly as he looked toward Carlos, who sat apart from the core of the group as though he were more comfortable with the donkeys. At the mention of his name he raised a hand in recognition of the only word he could understand. Roberto said something briefly to him in Portuguese, then turned back to the fire.

  Remembering the early start they had made that morning, Eva ventured timidly, “What time are we starting out tomorrow?” She immediately regretted the question, as Roberto’s gaze became one of derision.

  “I’d like to be off by sunup again, so we can reach the mine by early afternoon, before the worst of the heat sets in. Can you make it?” he aimed his question solely at Eva.

  “I did it this morning, didn’t I?” she retorted, trying to disguise her annoyance in front of the others.

  He continued to provoke her. “I think you’d better begin cleaning up these plates and pans if you want to get much rest tonight!”

  Of all the nerve, simmered Eva. I make the meal, tired as I am, and he thinks I’m just going to abide by his command and clean up, too? We’ll see who commands here! Her indignant reply raised all heads.

  “I have no intention of waiting on any of you. If anyone here wants to eat food cooked on clean pans off clean plates tomorrow, you’d better get off your butts and help!” She was furious with Roberto, though she tried to add a note of humor for the sake of the others. With that, she rose and moved toward the fire, tossing instructions here and there as she went, though sparing Roberto a direct order. She had no desire to test his compliance, or to work side by side with him, for that matter!

  Paul and Tom were quick to help her, and the three of them had everything cleaned in no time. Meanwhile, Roberto and the two Frenchmen sorted out bedrolls from the rest of the supplies.

  Eva was still bristling from Roberto’s put-down when the last of the utensils had been stowed away for the night. Paul, particularly aware of her annoyance, tried to coax her into a better mood.

  “Come and sit with us awhile, Eva. It’s still early. I’d like to hear more about your work.”

  But Eva doubted she would be fit company for anyone in her agitated state, overreaction that she knew it was. “Thanks, Paul. You’re a sweetheart. But I think I’d like a little time to myself,” she gentl
y refused, needing time to cool off.

  Turning, she slowly wandered toward the edge of the clearing, padding carefully, barefooted as she was. She paused at a secluded corner, hidden from the rest by low shrubbery and the rocky bulge of the mountainside, where she sat down cross-legged to stare out at the skyline. The moon had risen and cast its silvery glow over the landscape. From the vantage point of her private niche, she could see for miles, the craggy mountains and furrowed valleys below her such a contrasting sight to the view from her New York town house. Funny, she thought, there’s not a soul out there in the mountains, yet I don’t feel any of the loneliness I feel in New York looking out over millions of people! There was a certain peacefulness, a oneness with nature which now eased her muscles as no Jacuzzi could. She felt the tension gradually flowing from her body out over the valleys, to be swallowed up forever beyond the farthest mountain top.

  Entranced by the vista, Eva was oblivious to all sounds around her. She jumped in surprise at the hand that lay on her shoulder, reflexively jerking her body away from its grasp. Instantly she recognized her companion, no longer needing to see his face to know of his presence. Her senses had memorized his very smell, so fresh and masculine and heady. There was a moment’s hesitation before Roberto’s voice, low and gruff, shattered the silence.

  “Let me see your finger,” he ordered, grabbing the forefinger of her right hand before she understood what he was doing.

  “Ouch … watch it!” she exclaimed, his hand having grazed the very spot she had burned earlier. He had taken a small tube from his shirt pocket and was proceeding to spread, none too gently for Eva’s comfort, a salve on the burn which, though small, had begun to blister.

  “I didn’t think you’d noticed,” Eva shot at him sarcastically, even as the soothing effect of the salve had begun to ease the sting.

  “I don’t miss too much.” His eyes didn’t stray from hers, the implication of his tone notwithstanding. “Here … you’ll need these for tomorrow. You can’t very well hike barefoot over the hills. And, as I said once before, I won’t have any lame animals along.” Reaching again into the pocket of his shirt, he drew out several Band-Aids, obviously intended for her raw heels.

  By this time Eva’s humiliation had nowhere to go. Once again he was right. As much as she would have liked to turn down his smug gesture of help, she knew she would need the bandages if she ever hoped to put her sneakers on. Betrayed by her feet, she burst out in a spontaneous eruption of laughter at the ludicrous predicament.

  “I’m glad to see your humor has returned. I thought for a while, there, that we’d seen the last of it! It becomes you.” He stated it as a fact, but there was a gentleness in his voice.

  “If you like it so much, why do you constantly provoke me? You do, you know.” She stated her own fact, calmly.

  “I didn’t say I like it. I merely said it becomes you. There is a difference. And if I provoke you it’s because you are oversensitive. I enjoy your outbursts of anger. They also become you, in their own way.” Roberto’s gentle tone was causing flutters within her, even as his words angered her.

  “So you enjoy annoying me!” she retorted. “What kind of perverted mind can do that? You must be a sadist. You humiliate me, hurt me, tease me, infuriate me … and love every minute of it! What does make you tick? I’m at a total loss to figure you out!”

  His expression softened, pleased to hear her admit to a weakness. “Well, I’m glad to see there’s something you’re at a loss to do. You are pretty self-sufficient, I have to admit. What makes you tick, Mrs. Jordenson?”

  “Uh-uh. I asked you first.” Eva was not about to be put off when she was so close to a real discovery. “You must have a very low opinion of women.”

  “To the contrary. I have the utmost respect for some women.”

  “Then you must despise American women.” She pursued the point, eager to pin him down somehow.

  “Not at all. My mother is an American woman.” He was evading her questions, and Eva knew she would have to be more specific.

  “Your mother doesn’t count. Are you married?” She dove in headfirst, not sure whether she would hit bottom or rise to the surface.

  “No,” he replied bluntly. “Do I seem like the marrying type?”

  “No. Ah, yes! I would have guessed that you weren’t married but that you would like to be and to have a family.” Eva was talking freely now, saying things which at another time she might not have ventured to say. But Roberto’s seemingly relaxed mood gave her courage.

  An enigmatic smile curled at the corners of his mouth, a mixture of sadness and frustration. “You know all the answers, don’t you? How did you reach that conclusion?”

  “The way you look at Paul and talk about him. It’s something special, isn’t it? I don’t have any brothers or sisters, but I would have liked to feel about one the way you seem to feel about Paul And I imagine that feeling would be magnified with your own children. I know …” she broke off, having unconsciously broached a subject she didn’t want to discuss.

  Roberto, as was becoming his way, immediately picked up on it. “You know, what?” He paused, his eyes registering surprise at a completely new thought. “Do you have any children, Eva?”

  Eva’s gaze had returned to the distant mountains, though her mind’s eye saw the skyscrapers of the city. She answered softly, sadness overhanging her words. “No. I don’t have any children. I was … pregnant once … but I lost the baby.”

  There was silence for several moments until Roberto genuinely touched by her sadness, broke it. “It must have been very painful for you?” he asked, urging her to talk of the experience for the cathartic value of airing it.

  “It was. Very painful. I never talk of it. I never think of it.” The factuality in Eva’s voice wouldn’t hide completely the suffering she felt at the reminder of this very personal tragedy. Why it flowed to the surface now, after months and months of total denial, Eva didn’t know. Some force, powerful and intimate, though silent, gently coaxed her on.

  “Soon after Stu and I married, I discovered I was pregnant. Stu didn’t want the baby; it wouldn’t fit in with his life-style. I did want the child. I had no family and desperately wanted some blood tie.” Her eyes hadn’t strayed from the mountains. Quickly she continued. “I loved being pregnant. Such a beautiful, natural feeling, as though I was doing what my body was meant to do, pure and simple.” Here she did venture to smile at Roberto, shyly, suddenly embarrassed by her confession but knowing she was helpless to halt it. His expression was somber, frightening her into a hasty summing up.

  “At any rate, I lost the baby at four months. Not very long. But I’ll always remember that feeling …” Her voice trailed off toward the mountains she faced. Taking a deep breath, she added, “I can imagine the intensity of love you’ll feel for your children someday.”

  Again, a silence. Then his soothing voice probed further. “Certainly you’ll have other children someday?”

  Bitterness tinged her brief laugh as she scolded, “I’m a widow, remember? You keep reminding me of that fact. And as such it would be difficult for me to have any children. Am I right? Contrary to your belief, I am neither in the market for a husband nor a father for any potential children.”

  Roberto seemed momentarily lost in his own reveries. “You’d make a good mother … although I pity the poor husband you snag someday,” he teased once more.

  “Fortunately that’s none of your affair. Anyway, marriage is the last thing that is on my mind. My husband is not yet dead a month! You must think me some flighty fortune hunter!” Eva exploded, half in reaction to his words and half in regret at the loss of the moment of tenderness he had shown.

  “Take it easy! Take it easy!” he crooned softly. “You’re very touchy tonight. It must be the hard day you’ve had,” he added, smirking in the moonlight.

  Eva would not be placated. “If I’ve had a hard day, it’s mostly your fault. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in.
” She had let him provoke her again, she realized, as she stood up in a huff and whirled around to return to the fire.

  “Acch …” a groan escaped, involuntarily, as Eva felt a muscle spasm at the sudden movement.

  “Here, let me help you,” Roberto ordered, firmly grabbing her arm and returning her to her position overlooking the outstretched valley. Before she could protest, his hands had begun a gentle massage of her aching shoulders, the instantaneous comfort silencing any argument she might have made.

  “Relax,” he commanded softly, his hands continuing to knead her battered muscles. Whether it was the stroking motion of his hands or the mere physical closeness of him, Eva let herself unwind, dropping her chin onto her chest with a sigh of pleasure. Gently his hands moved to her arms, caressing her smooth skin below the sleeve of her T-shirt. She couldn’t even object when they slipped inside the neckline of her shirt to rub the bare skin of her lower neck and shoulders. She stood, eyes closed, head down, hypnotized by his touch, tingling under his fingertips. She was not aware when the fine line was crossed between physical therapy and seduction, but she didn’t fight him when he raised his hand to her long curls, lifting them enough to allow his lips to play on the back of her neck. She swayed, then moaned aloud, this time of a more erotic pleasure, as he drew her slim body back against the masculine contours of his. Her head fell back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her midriff. It was as though she floated in a never-never land of ecstasy, losing all touch with reality. Her own compelling need made her turn around to face him, her arms slowly creeping up his chest, reveling in the firmness of his taut muscles.

  Her eyes were frozen on his lips, as his were on hers. It was a sensuous exchange, so near yet not touching. His hands explored the hollows of her back, the line of her spine, the curve of her hips, as he pressed her arching body firmly against his. Eva felt his male need, in turn igniting a treacherous sensation in the pit of her stomach. No longer able to keep any distance, she parted her lips and raised herself to meet his in a kiss of frenzied passion and overwhelming need. His demanding lips caressed hers, his tongue probing the recesses of her mouth.