Enthralled Read online

  ENTHRALLED by Ann Cristy

  Teel lay face-down on the hot, moist earth. Ants and other insects began to crawl over her cheeks, stinging her, and she knew she had to move, though her body screamed in protest. Sweat dribbled into her burning eyes. The buzz of flies was loud in the fetid heat. Groaning, she pushed herself to a sitting position. Cross-legged, swiping at the flies that swarmed over her the moment she was still, she tried to take stock of her situation. She refused to accept the thought that she could, indeed, be utterly lost.

  Somehow she had to retrace her steps to the mission and Aunt Tessa. For the hundredth time she cursed the folly of having given in to her aunt's pleas and journeyed with her to the mission outpost in Central America that was run by Aunt Tessa's friend, Sister Mary Mark. When the formidable sister had informed them that they should don nuns' habits as a safety precaution against the unwanted advances of patrolling soldiers, she should have insisted that they leave at once.

  Teel's forehead burned with fever. Her lips were cracked and sore from lack of water. Still, she was determined to get herself out of this—this stupid situation.

  She had only gone a short distance outside the mission area, in order to give Aunt Tessa a chance to talk alone with her old school friend. She had not meant to wander beyond the perimeter. Now she cursed her stupidity and the density of the jungle that had made her take a wrong turn, away from the mission instead of back toward it.

  She stood up slowly, swaying in the heat. "You're going to get out of here, Teel Barrett," she said aloud, the sound of her hoarse voice startling some birds into flight. She blinked at an orange and blue parrot and wished she had its vantage point. She slapped at a mosquito on her cheek. "I never thought I would find a nun's habit useful" she muttered, "but it sure is a buffer against you." She blinked at the dead mosquito in her hand, then took her bearings as best she could and began walking.

  An hour later she knew she was weakening from the effects of the stifling heat. She no longer spoke out loud to herself. It took too much energy.

  She squinted up through the thick curtain of trees to the cloudless blue sky, listened to the cawing and squalling of the jungle creatures, and wondered if she had really heard the sound of the surf or if it was just another jungle noise.

  Barely able to push the light branches aside, Teel staggered through the underbrush toward the sound, then stared mouth agape at the sand and sea in front of her. The Pacific Ocean! It had to be the Pacific. She knew that the beaches on the Pacific side of Central America often consisted of black sand like this one. She felt a shaky sense of triumph. She didn't know exactly where she was, but she did know she was facing the Pacific Ocean. She reeled out onto the beach, trying to shade her eyes from the blinding sun, seeing nothing but beach and ocean shimmering under its flaming disc. Then, suddenly overcome by heat and fatigue, she fell forward on her face and slept.

  When she awoke it was dark and she was cold, the cold that comes to anyone who has had too much exposure to the sun. She shivered and looked around her, hungry and frightened.

  Sometime later she saw lights moving on the water and stared at them in disbelief. "You're hallucinating, Teel," she told herself through cracked lips. But a small, g motorized dinghy came ashore. She watched two men I and a woman beach the craft and shine a flashlight across the sand in a great arc. "You're seeing things, Teel," she : said firmly, not bothering to lower her voice because she knew figments of her own imagination would pay no attention to her.

  But the man holding the flashlight jerked his head up and said, "Hey, I heard a voice. We better get out of here. Chazz will be madder than hell because we took the dinghy. He said the repairs would be finished in an hour and we were to stay on board." He swung the flashlight across the beach again, but the beam of light kept missing Teel.

  "Come on, stop it, Zack," the woman said in a high, wheedling tone to the other man, who was nuzzling her. ' "I don't want Chazz mad at me. You know how he gets."

  "Damn you, Elise, I thought you wanted a little beach party: a fire, a little wine..." The man called Zack lowered his voice to a seductive hiss as he moved closer, to the woman.

  Teel watched them, her arms and legs like lead, her voice a dry croak in her parched throat. She had to get their attention. They were her only hope.

  "I don't want to stay now," Elise continued. "Jim said he heard someone talking. What if we run into revolutionaries?" She shuddered, her exaggerated shadow quivering in the beam of the flashlight.

  "He didn't hear anything," Zack protested.

  Just then a shout reached them from the direction of the lights on the water. Teel couldn't understand the words, but the tone was angry. She watched the three people scramble toward the dinghy. They were leaving her! Desperate, she forced herself up from her knees. Her body trembled with the effort. Slowly, erratically, using every last vestige of strength and will she had left, she shambled forward, watching in mute horror as they pushed the dinghy into the water. The woman was already in the boat. Then one of the men jumped aboard. As the second man prepared to follow, Teel's feet splashed into the water. The last man let out a startled shout, but she didn't stop. She headed straight for the dinghy.

  "Who the hell are you?" the man called Zack demanded from his vantage point at the motor. "Where did you come from?"

  Without answering, Teel just fell forward, clutching the gunwales. She heard a woman's shriek, a shouted oath, and then blackness closed over her head.

  Teel awoke to turquoise. She wasn't surprised, but she hadn't expected the afterlife to be turquoise. Long ago she had stopped practicing the religion that was so sustaining to her aunt and her friends, but Teel had retained the idea of an afterlife. She had just never thought it would be turquoise.

  "So you're awake." A man's face loomed over hers, with strong planes and amber eyes. Lion's eyes, Teel mused, thinking he looked rather stern for an angel. Did angels have firm mouths that appeared to have been whittled and cheeks faintly shadowed with a beard? Angels didn't have coal black hair, did they? Perhaps this was a devil, Teel thought, too tired to really care.

  "Aren't you going to speak?" the voice asked.

  "No." The one word made her dry lips feel as if they'd been split. She had no idea where her voice had come from, but it was like sandpaper on raw wood.

  "Who are you?" the man asked her, leaning closer.

  Teel flinched and tried to pull the sheet over her head, but her hands wouldn't do her bidding.

  Irritation flashed across the man's austere features. "Listen, I have to know who you are."

  Teel closed her eyes to make him disappear. Sleep came as a welcome gift.

  She woke again to the same turquoise, but this time she was able to turn her head and see that she was in a bedroom. It hurt to move, but she forced herself to look as far as she was able. She was incapable of lifting herself but realized she was on a boat of some kind. A large window revealed a patch of blue sky, and she felt the motion of the ship under her body even though she could not see the water from where she lay.

  The door opened, and she turned her eyes to see the man who'd spoken to her earlier—the one she thought of as the devil—and another man, who looked like a leprechaun and carried a tray with covered dishes. They stared down at her for a long time.

  Every instinct told Teel to run, but she was thoroughly immobile. Every nerve ending stood at full alert. The hair on her arms prickled like tiny antennae receiving danger signals.

  The larger man bent toward her and lifted her easily. All at once Teel realized that she was naked under the silk sheets. Her fingers moved futilely, unable to grasp the slipping material. The devil held the sheet around her and lowered her to a cluster of pillows the other man had provided. "Darby, get her that robe from Clare's
cabin, the short one with the long sleeves." He grinned at the smaller man, making ' dimples form on either side of his mouth.

  The devil has dimples, Teel thought as she lay back against the pillows, completely exhausted. Her skin felt on fire from insect bites and the burning sun. Her face , felt swollen and dry. She wanted to immerse herself in j cold, cold milk.

  "She'll have my eyes if I touch her precious clothes," I the smaller man protested, frowning at Satan, his bushy brows bobbing up and down.

  Satan's smile disappeared into granite. His teeth snapped together. "Tell her I want that jacket, and I don't want to have to come after it." He turned to Teel, then back to the older man, who was crossing to the cabin door. "And bring some lotion. I want good stuff. These dames spend enough of my money for the best, so I know there's some on board. I want it."

  Teel struggled to shout that she didn't want the little man to leave, but all that came out was a groan.

  "All right, darling, let's see if you can take some of this cold soup." Satan lifted her, his arm cradling her, but still she moaned. "This is cold cucumber soup, and I my chef tells me it's just the thing for someone suffering from heat exposure such as yours."

  Teel kept her eyes on him as he edged the spoon into her mouth and let the creamy mixture slide down her throat. The cooling sensation was immediate. So was hunger. She was eager for the second spoonful and the . next and the next. Then she was tired. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

  Teel realized vaguely that she slept off and on for a long time. In brief moments of lucidity she was aware that her swollen body was gradually returning to normal, the itching was disappearing, her appetite had increased, and her general soreness was beginning to fade. Strength returned slowly to her limbs, and she took more note of her surroundings.

  The devil didn't return. After a doctor had examined her, she'd been left in the able care of the man called Darby. At last she felt strong enough to talk to him. "Darby, what happened to the other man?"

  His mouth agape, Darby stared at her. "So you can talk, can you? For days all you've said is 'no'." He smiled at her, his sandy hair quivering on his head like tufts of wild grass. "That other man, as you call him, is gambling with his guests on the island of Alidad, where we've dropped anchor for a time. It was lucky for you we had engine trouble. What were you doing on that beach, anyway?"

  Teel told him of losing her way in the jungle while on a visit to the mission in the jungle.

  Darby shook his head and again commented on her good luck. "We didn't originally intend to land off the coast. Too much trouble in those banana republics. Chazz usually gives them a wide berth. But,"—he shrugged his thin shoulders—"bilge pumps aren't usually temperamental; so we put in for repairs."

  His elfin grin made Teel smile. "You scared the be- jabbers out o' those low-class friends of Chazz's," he went on. "It's a wonder they didn't throw you into the ocean. You should have heard them excusing themselves for bringin' you. I don't know why Chazz keeps them around—them and the rest of his 'guests'. They're not the kind of people he has business dealings with, I tell you." He pursed his thin lips as he set a tray on her knees with the ritual tonic and tea he usually gave her in the evening. The biscuits were light and flaky and running with butter.

  "I often think he hangs with that bunch to somehow make up for his success. Ya see, Chazz was very poor when he was growing up. He worked his way through college, then began his own parcel service. From that he went to shipping, and now he has a fleet of planes, and—"

  Teel smiled, feeling both mentally and physically comfortable for the first time. She was getting better. "I know about Chazz Herman," she said. "I read that article in World magazine about how he flew the flood relief plane into a remote area of the jungle after a volcano erupted. He plays polo with European royalty"—Teel ticked the facts off on her fingers—"he's a self-made millionaire, who rose from the slums of New York to become a member of the jet set... "

  Darby wrinkled his nose. "Whatever that is!" He threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of what Teel surmised must be the guests' sleeping quarters. "Chazz is a good man," Darby explained, "but sometimes he crews around with the likes o' them." Darby looked at the glass Teel was holding, his bushy eyebrows quivering comically. "Drink all your tonic now. Tomorrow you're to go up on deck and get some air. But I won't let you go if you don't drink your tonic."

  Teel made a face at him and drank the licorice-colored brew.

  He smiled at her, set the tray on a table, and returned to sit on a chair next to her bed. "Now are you going to tell Darby who you are. Sister? We don't even know your name, and you haven't been strong enough for us to question you."

  Teel stared at Darby in surprise. He'd called her "Sister." But of course! She had come aboard the Deirdre, as Darby called the yacht, wearing the torn habit. She opened her mouth to tell Darby she wasn't a nun when a warning sounded in her brain. It might be safer if she pretended to be a nun until she was safely back home in Selby, New York. After all, she really didn't know these people, and what she had read about Chazz Herman— he'd been written up in the tabloids as well as in World magazine—was not encouraging. She had refrained from mentioning his shadier reputation to Darby, even though she was sure the little man was aware of his employer's propensity for well-developed blondes. Even if half of what the yellow press said about Chazz Herman were true, he was an unmitigated and unrepentant womanizer. He went out with, and undoubtedly slept with, some of the world's most sophisticated women, and some of the most common. He dined with royalty and high-priced call girls, making little or no distinction between the two. From the many takeovers he had successfully manipulated, Teel knew he was a dangerous man in his business dealings. From the many scandal sheets that gave extensive and colorful coverage of his escapades with women— including his often tearful, usually indiscreet breakups with them—she knew he was ruthless in his personal life as well. She had read too much about Chazz Herman to trust him and wasn't ready to risk becoming his next sexual coup.

  "Aren't you going to tell me your name?" Darby quizzed, his pale eyes gentle on her.

  Teel swallowed in a throat that was desert dry. "I'm Terese Ellen Barrett, from New York."

  "New York is a big place." Darby grinned at her. "And is your convent in Manhattan?"

  "I'm in charge of a school for exceptional children in Selby, New York, about sixty miles northwest of the city," Teel told him truthfully. She had no intention of revealing that she was a lay director of the Mary Dempsey School for Exceptional Children, that she had once been a model during a summer break from college, or that she had once been seduced by a man named Ben Windom, a New York advertising executive. She shook her head, clearing it of dark memories.

  "Is this a school for smart ones, then?" Darby leaned back in his chair and tapped a round-bowled pipe on the sole of his sneaker, catching the ashes in an ashtray he held under it.

  Teel smiled. "No. Our children are mentally retarded and physically handicapped. For them it is a vocational school, a school in which they learn to read and write, understand signs and count money, and generally how to survive in a world designed for people of much higher intellectual ability. We deal with children up to the age of fifteen. A great number of our pupils are then sent on to a more advanced training school."

  Darby stared at her wide-eyed. "And did you train for this, Sister, this special work?"

  "Oh, yes. I did my undergraduate work at Nazareth College in Rochester, New York. I also took classes during the summer at Columbia University. I—er—I also worked there to help support myself. I did graduate work at Columbia in order to get my master's. Soon now I'll be finishing my doctoral dissertation," Teel concluded, her voice a whisper.

  "Oh, it's 'doctor,' is it?" Darby's eyebrows danced up and down. "Well, I'm proud to know you, doctor."

  "I'm not a doctor yet, but I will be in less than a year."

  "Your parents must be proud of you," Darby said, obvi
ously fishing for more information.

  Teel smiled at him. "My parents are dead. They were killed in that plane accident in Washington a few years back." Teel felt the smile slip off her face. "My Aunt Tessa, who traveled with me to the mission, is my only relative now." Teel swallowed. "I must let her know that I'm all right. She'll be so worried."

  "Shhh, now. Don't upset yourself," Darby soothed her.

  "But... but she doesn't know where I am," Teel protested, feeling a weakness assail her. "I... I don't know if she's all right. I'm worried about her."

  "There, there." Darby patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I realize you've been worrying. When you were so feverish with sun sickness you called out to her many times. A number of nights Chazz held you in his arms while you cried."

  "What?" Tell rubbed her eyes and sat up quickly, experiencing a momentary dizziness that soon dissipated.

  Darby looked surprised. "Don't you remember that either? Sure. Chazz heard you calling out. You're closer to his suite than any of the other rooms. He thought you would be disturbed less often here. The Turquoise Cabin is usually for, well..."

  "His women," Teel supplied, feeling red run up her cheeks. "Well, I'm certainly well enough to be moved into another cabin now," she said coolly.

  "Don't be silly, girl. This is the most comfortable cabin of them all except for Chazz's own suite." Darby rose to his feet. "You won't be moving, but you will be going to sleep."

  "I'm not tired, really. Stay a bit longer."

  "No." Darby grinned. "Chazz would kill me if you took a turn for the worse. He watches over you like a mother hen." Darby frowned, making his grizzled face look like a troll's. "But I'd like it better if he quit drinking and carousing with that bunch. Seems to me he's been drinking even more lately." Darby left the cabin, shaking his head.

  Teel lay quite still thinking, wishing she could get the owner of the Deirdre off her mind. He was the kind of man she detested. Her one experience with Ben Windom had soured her on the sophisticated, womanizing type, and that was Chazz Herman in spades. Of course there were some differences between the two men. Ben Windom was a product of old money, the best schools, the most prestigious clubs. He traveled in exalted circles, yet Teel considered him an inferior person, more lacking in integrity than anyone else she had ever met. She was sure Chazz Herman had a similar lack of morals. From now on she would try to avoid that class of men, she told her pillow, her eyes heavy with sleep.