Pearls Read Free Page B

disappearing into the hut with her basket. I read the action as a dismissal, but soon she emerged and came to stand before me. I smiled and patted the log, inviting her to sit. Her gaze followed my hand then returned to my face. She made no move to join me.
Her silent refusal to take orders amused me, and I laughed. The sober look in her doe-like eyes softened, and the corners of her full lips turned up ever so slightly. Deciding the time had come for introductions, I placed my hand against my breast and pronounced my name with deliberation. “Rodrigo,” I told her. I repeated my name several times, but she did not acknowledge my attempt to communicate. She stared for a long moment then turned toward the hut. My disappointment at her rebuff quickly fled when she stopped at the doorway and offered me one word.
“Karwa,” she said, her graceful fingers brushing over her collarbone before she disappeared inside.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
    “… he rescued her from the Spaniards who’d enslaved her, and he hid her away. I don’t know how it ends yet, because I’ve only translated three entries, but already I think it’s the most romantic story I’ve ever heard. I hope they fall in love….”
    Raúl sat across the table from Isabel, admiring the way enthusiasm enhanced her appearance. She looked lovely in the mellow lighting of the jazz club, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. The candlelight danced over her chestnut hair, capturing the silky texture and firing her golden highlights. Realizing his thoughts had strayed from her words, he pulled his attention back to the conversation.
    “So what do you think? Have you ever heard anything so intriguing, Raúl?”
    “Your tale is captivating. I should like to see this journal. I am certain it has value as an artifact.”
    “You aren’t suggesting I sell it, are you? It’s a piece of family history.”
    “No, but you should be certain to carry adequate insurance on such a unique piece. A journal written by one of the first Europeans to see Venezuela would be of great value to a museum or historian.”
    “You’re right. I’ll ask Abuela if she carries a policy on it. If not, will you help me get it insured?”
    “Of course, mi amor .” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I’ve missed you this week. You didn’t come to the café for lunch even once.”
    “Were you there every day?”
    “ Sí .”
    “If I had known you wanted to see me, I’d have come.”
    “I always want to see you, Isabel. You are the most important part of my life.” He watched a blush spread across her creamy cheeks. She had no idea how beautiful or special she was, and he found her modesty appealing.
    Smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear, she regained her voice. “I’m sorry if you felt neglected. You’re important to me, too, but school dominated my schedule this week. Aside from translating the journal, semester finals are just weeks away. I’ve been finishing up a few papers and studying for my tests.”
    “During Christmas break you will set aside some time for me, no?”
    “Of course. Abuela invited me to the hacienda for the holidays. Would you like to come?”
    The face he made brought a smile to her lips. “Doña Montez does not approve of me, Isabel.”
    “I know, but she doesn’t know you like I do. Maybe if the two of you spent some time together….” Her voice trailed off.
    “But not over the holidays. I don’t want your celebrations overshadowed by tension because of my presence. Besides, I must visit my mother. I am all the family she has.”
    “How is she?”
    The emptiness that pervaded his family interactions echoed hollowly in his chest. “The same. Bitter. Angry. I don’t expect to enjoy myself, but I must go.”
    “Why shouldn’t you enjoy yourself?”
    “I will have to listen to her endless tirades about my father. She despises him for never leaving his wife, despite his many promises through the years. Her life as his