The Tame (ON HOLD)

Of uncharted territories

The blood-red tapestry was so huge in width and length, it could cover two adult mammoths. Laid bare on it were the green and gold embroidery of a shrieking mermaid, its claws raised in defiance. Its tail was stitched with golden thread, her torso bare.

Phina gazed at the sheer magnanimity of it all, and wondered at its significance. How weird could the Kincaids get? Was this Brendan's way of telling her off? If he thought this would scare her then he was in for a big surprise.

Phina looked around her. The room was bathed in rich Burgundy and earthy hues. A colossal four poster bed swallowed up most of the entire space, leaving room for two sofas. A paperback slept on a bureau, and a reddish-brown acoustic guitar sat on a stool. So he was a musical and a book addict..., how interesting. A tiny grin escaped Phina. She loved music too, playing the sax at age twelve. All she couldn't play was the guitar, but that could be helped...with Brendan's aid of course.

She strode in curiosity to the bureau and hoisted the book, its musky scent filtering into her nostrils. She sneezed. The black cover of the ancient book was dusk with age, but firm to the touch. On it was the title, Intricacies of a Man's Heart. The first two paragraphs proved boring and Phina dropped it back, her mind on the tapestry.

She tugged the heavy material to the side and smiled as a brass door knob appeared. Wiping her sweaty hands on her dress, she pressed the knob with all her pent up motions.

******

The door creaked open on a note that stirred Phina's fear and curiosity. She tip-toed in. The room was draped in darkness, heavy Persian blinds blocking the sunlight that shone outside in abundance. The light from a crescent-shaped lamp caressed the darkness, thereby casting the shapes into shadows.

The dark shadow of a man was hurled across the stucco white wall and it took Phina a moment to recognise who it belonged to. His back to her, Brendan sat before a canvas. His neck had stiffened upon Phina's arrival, but he made no adjustment to up and greet her.

His hands poised on the canvas, Phina knew he'd sensed her. He placed his brush on a palette and pulled at his trouser at the knees, before rising. Rolling the canvas into a tube, he tied it with a string and shoved it into a drawer.

Phina craned her neck to see what was on the canvas. Having no success with that she watched in unbidden curiosity as he locked the drawer and stuffed the keys inside his pocket. He turned and faced her.

Their eyes met. Her heart stood at attention. A few feet from her, Brendan's brown eyes burned gold by the lamp's honey light. Unable to meet his overpowering orbs anymore, Phina's eyes landed on the mounds they called a chest. His torso heaved inside his shirt as he exhaled.
Deli...oh by Mother Mary!, she couldn't continue with that sentence. She shouldn't have exited that holy covent. Men were total disasters!

"Who showed you here?", Brendan asked in a voice, scratchy from unuse.

"Me...", Phina paused. She couldn't bring trouble to Meg. The young maid had helped her already. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is I..."

"I ASKED WHO BROUGHT YOU HERE!"

Phina's heart did a lap dance to her stomach. She'd expected a storm, not a maelstrom. Her brows furrowed, she tried to come up with a plausible answer. "I was looking for you. I couldn't find you anywhere so I checked into your suite. When I saw that mer...uh," Phina swallowed, "tapestry, I decided to look behind it. Then I saw the door."

Brendan squinted his eyes. "You can feed that story to a mouse or a less-abled man. Not me. Only Sam knows of this hideaway and I bet his big mouth led him to tell a maid, who in turn, told you. But not to digress, what are you doing in my study?"