MULATTO (Iyila) (Editing)

chapter forty six

"Are we close?" Iyila feebly asked for the fifth time but this time, Gabriel just turned, stared at her, said nothing then he continued walking. He heared her quietly grumble about something but he was too engrossed in his thoughts to care. He was careful to keep a safe distance between them which he believed was for the best. He'd almost kissed her. God, he'd felt like possessing her lips especially after he'd seen the intensified ardor in her fading gold eyes.

He'd been drawn by her beauty, her bravery, and marvelled at her naive excitment; it had ignited his feelings. His heartbeat had accelerated and at that point he'd imagined nothing more than having all of her particulary as he'd noticed that she was not the least eager to restrain him from having his way.

He'd come so close to taking her body. He'd wanted her so badly that he hadn't pondered much else than her. Then the thoughts of returning to Illinios started strolling in, gradually and though he'd fought it, he decided in the end, that he had to suppress his emotions, that his feelings and urges were simply lust.

But even as he whispered those words into her ears, the temptation to cast all caution to the wind and have his way was high but he'd managed to tame his feelings and draw away.

That thought alone had melted his growing raging desire. That thought had been the stopping force.

What then would have happened if they had met,

What would have happened after the whole action? he reasoned. He was to live in Charleston soon and what would then happen to her?

He had to be rational, at least there was a justification for him leaving behind Susan and Collete, but what would he say for Iyila's case. He knew he'd feel obligated to her once they met and then what?

A relationship was impossible, marraige was preposterous and her being his mistress? He wasn't sure of that and he knew Iyila was not that kind of woman who he could easily bribe with a parting gift as a consolation for having her . Although he felt she was not a woman who would make claims either, whether Negro or not. She was rather sophiscated in a singular way. Still he felt he'd never be the same. He wished to leave Charleston as a whole, with no holes or regrets, not when he'd come so far.

Again, there was the danger of keeping her with his child. Though he'd been very careful with other women and usually knew when to make his release but he knew Iyila was one woman he could not predict.

He'd known that since the first instance he saw her at the market on her escape mission. She was amusingly different. In a way she managed to make him behave foolishly like a boy just learning how to court a woman. She was capable of making him feel unsettled and strangely vibrant, he refused to trust his body, not with her.

Laying with women for him was one his bad habits but Iyila's eyes promised more than a rushing-heated moment. There was much in it, there was more in her eyes when he'd stared into them, much more than the raw lust he'd noted in his other women.

He'd acknowledged a depth he'd not seen for over a long time now, that type of depth that enticed, yet simultaneously caused a man to be alarmed.

He couldn't risk it even though he earnestly desired to. She was so many things: obstinate, bolshie, daring, astonishing. But she was ridiculously naive, youthful and clearly oblivious of the dangers of their intentions, in this case he had to be the logical one, at least for her sake. He'd spent weeks with her alone in his chamber, surely he could manage four more days with her, so he reasoned.

"I am very exhausted," she complained again. They were already there. Not replying to any of her incessant grumbles, he carefully stepped down the river while the light from the moon brightened the way. Standing close to the bank, he watched her groan as she staggered down, once almost tripping over the rock. "What is this," she calmly asked once she was beside him. "This is it" he answered. Her eyes widened,"Is this the place?"