Tarnished Gold (Landry 5)

"I've seen your face a hundred times on every

pretty girl who's crossed my path. You haunt me," he

said.

His words took me on wings. I saw myself

gliding alongside my heron, and when he stepped up

to me and took me in his arms, I could offer no

resistance. Our kiss was long, our bodies turned

gracefully in to each other. When we parted lips, his

lips continued over my eyes and cheeks. It was as if

he wanted to feast on my face.

"Pierre," I pleaded weakly.

"No, Gabriel. You feel toward me exactly how

I feel toward you. I know it; I've known it all these

weeks during which I suffered being away from you. I

thought I would try to stay away, but that was a

foolish lie to tell myself. There was no hope of that. I

could no more stop the sun from rising and falling

than I could stop myself from seeing you, Gabriel," "But, Pierre, how can we . . ."

"I've thought of everything," he said proudly.

"And I've gotten it all accomplished before I came

poling down this canal searching, hoping to see you

along this bank. I must confess," he added, "I've been

here before, waiting for you."

"You have?"

"Oui."

"But what have you thought of, planned? I don't

understand," I said.

"Do you trust yourself, or me, for that matter,

enough to get into my canoe?"

I looked at it suspiciously. "And then?" "Let it be a surprise," he said. "Come along."