Disclaimer: Some of the characters aren’t mine, they belong to Marvel

Title: Ororo prt1

Rating: PG13

Authors notes: This is a new perspective…..An alternate reality. I tentatively call this ‘Ororo’ but if anyone has a better suggestion, please let me know.







Jacmel, Haiti



Pride and eagerness glowed from their small, dark faces as they patiently sat waiting. Their small hands folded neatly in their laps. Tattered and worn, their clothing scarcely hid the evidence of famine and malnourished forms. Yet the slenderness of small shoulders bespoke of defiance and an unwillingness to meekly accept the cruel hand dealt them by fate. A sparkle of newfound knowledge beamed from their eyes. No matter what other challenges would come their way, the seeds of success had already been planted. Given time, they would be the ones to change things.

Ororo Munroe looked proudly across at the room full of third and fourth grade students. It hadn’t been easy but they’ve made it through another year. And all of them had successfully passed on to the next grade. She had their final report cards to prove it. It was a considerable accomplishment considering all they’d gone through to get to this point. From bouts of childhood illnesses easily curable in other countries, to incidences of political unrest that had kept the schools doors closed for weeks at a time, they’d continued to struggle on.

And Ororo had been there with them every step of the way. Learning as well as teaching them all she could. They’d absorbed everything she taught like sponges and then they wanted to learn more. At times she was left in awe at their strength and determination. Despite the obstacles.

Eager to know what the precious cards held before the final bell, they fidgeted in their seats. Maybe I should pass out their report cards now, she thought. After all, they deserved to know more then anyone how far they’ve come.

Besides she wanted to see the looks on their faces. As she was about to pass them out, a painfully thin little girl with bright colored beads in her braids, walked timidly towards her desk.

“What is it Pascal?” she asked, talking in native Creole. Ororo bent down to eye level to help put her at ease. The shy seven year old only raised skinny arms and wrapped them around her neck in a quick embrace. Just as quickly she was running back to her seat.

Choked back by sudden tears, Ororo turned away from them until she could regained some of her composure. She had known this day would be hard, but the simple gesture meant more to her then she could ever say. It had taken her months to gain their trust and now that she had it she would do anything she could not to let them down.

A second later the clanging of the small outdoor bell signified the end of another year. Rapidly blinking back tears, Ororo moved to the open doorway.

“Okay class, one at a time come up and get your report cards and I want each one of you to head straight home. Have a safe and fun summer. I’ll see you all next year.” Quickly they grabbed their scarce belongings and single file, moved to receive their grades. To each child she had a special word of praise. Each would always hold a special place in her heart.

When the last one left, Ororo sadly glanced around the empty room. She would miss this old rundown structure. Since the two years they’ve used the narrow, four-bedroom house as a school, she had a lot of sad, but mostly happy memories. The two back rooms were used as classes. While the wider front area, held a small office and indoor play area. Constructed of rusted galvanized roofing and plank walls, the small structure was in desperate need of immediate repairs.

Beams of light, through gaping holes the size of quarters, filtered in. two small windows allowed enough air to keep the stale air and stifling heat at bay. The dust covered concrete floor still held imprints of small, bare feet’s.

Long benches set up in rows served as both chair and desk for her students. She used a wooden for legged table and chair at the front of the room as her desk. An easel, next to the table was used for a blackboard. In a far corner, a stack of neatly piled used books leaned against the wall. Despite its shabbiness it had more then served it ‘s purpose.

But truth be told she couldn’t wait for the new school to be finished. As soon as next week construction was scheduled to began on a new, modernized building, with all the amenities of a teaching facility. Several classrooms, a cafeteria, library, playground and recess area were scheduled to be completed in time for the second term of the next school year, individualized desks, blackboards, were already waiting in a warehouse. And there would be new books! Instead of the torn outdated ones they’d been forced to use.

Eight more teachers were also hired to start in the spring. Hopefully with the added staff there wouldn’t be a need to double up on grades. But Ororo was skeptical about that happening. Already they’d received an outpouring of enrollments. As word spread about the school being opened to anyone and at no extra cost to the families more people were rushing to enroll their children. They’d heard from people in providences as far north as Cayes two hundred miles away! They were all in hopes that their kids would gain the education denied them by poverty and the countries political unrest. But now it seemed even the new school wouldn’t be big enough. The best they could do now was accept as many as they could without depriving the students of a proper education.

A year after her arrival, Ororo had been appalled to learn that all the schools charged astronomical fees and required the additional purchase of uniforms. Since the majority of Haitians could barely afford the cost of living it became apparent why a country with a strict educational criteria couldn’t make the grade. Deciding to take a gamble, she used part of her life’s saving to buy the surrounding land and rundown house and started a school of her own. Most of the parents had been skeptical at first, but within months she’d had a room full of kids eager to learn, within six months she’d hired another teacher. Her gamble had paid off.

Now thanks to some very generous donations from several local businesses and wealthy families, they now had the means to build the first public school in the city. It would accept students solely on a first come bases, not just the wealthy. Provided they where able to keep the funds rolling in.

A quick look at the slim watch on her wrist showed it was nearing four o’clock. She had to get a move on, there was only two hours left before she had to pick-up her parents at the airport! Grabbing her bag, she gave the room a final look before rushing down the hallway to the small office in the front of the house.

In actuality, the cramped space couldn’t really pass as an office. More like a closet. It was barely wide enough for the desk and filing cabinet cramped there.

“Hello Sabine. Everyone left already?” Ororo asked the heavyset woman, squeezed behind the desk.

“We’re the only ones left. I’m finishing up myself.” Sabine answered in Creole. The mother of six, Sabine volunteered at the school in return for her kids’ attendance. Her no-nonsense approach helped things run smoothly. Ororo had been ecstatic when she’d decided to stay on at the new school as their permanent secretary.

“Okay. I’m on my way too. Actually I’m running a little behind schedule. I have to pick-up my parents later.”

“Where’d they go?”

“Dad had to go to Florida on business for a few days, so he and mom decided to extend that trip to include three weeks in Bahamas.”

“Those two needed time away together.” Ororo nodded. Sabine was the only other person who knew what her parents had gone thorough the past year. Surprised to find out she was pregnant, at her age N’dare Munroe had started to get used to having another child when she’d had a miscarriage. Devastated by their loss, her parents buried themselves in their own pursuits. Both afraid to acknowledge the others pain, they began to drift apart. They didn’t know how to cope with the grief of a child that would never be. When the trip had come up, her father had planned it as an escape but she and her brother, Remy had convinced them to go together. Spending time alone would begin to heal the pain and growing rift between them.

Shaking herself out of the tragic memory, Ororo forced a smile to her face.

“I meant to ask you, how about meeting me for lunch next week? We could start going over those enrollment applications.”

“You’re on for lunch, but we’re leaving those applications alone. We have all summer to get to them. You’re worked hard all year, it’s time you let that pretty white hair down. Let lose and have some fun for once!” she said. Ororo laughed.

“Okay you’re on but only if you do the same.” Glancing outside she said. “Looks like we’ve both better get a move on. Your boys are getting impatient.” Looking outside through the open door, they saw three of Sabine’s sons throwing rocks at a sickly dog. With an angry scrawl on her face, Sabine yelled at them to leave the poor animal alone. Startled they quickly dropped the rocks.

“You have your hands full. I’ll call you Monday to set a time for lunch. See you later.” She retrieved her bike leaning against the wall and left.

Outside the hot, sun glared down at her. It toke a moment for her eyes to adjust but with a sign of regret for not driving, she waved at Sabine’s kids and started down the recently widen rocky road. Up into a few weeks before the only way to get to the school was by foot or horse back. But now the narrow trail was a two-lane road. Rocky and dusty but a road!

Located on the outer fringes of Jacmel on a high slopping mount, the school was close to the hospital and church. Those were both deciding factors for her choice, that and the surrounding terrain. Wild overhanging trees brushed at her hair and clothes. The smell of fragrant flowers intoxicated the senses. Everywhere you turned, there was a different view. From the far sighted mountains of Morne de Selle, to the valleys lush and thick with plantain trees.

Passing workmen finishing work on the road, Ororo continued down the path, while keeping away from the edge of the valley below. Gazing around she spotted, distant roof tops with clouds of smoke ascending from outdoor cooking fires. She could hear the sounds of dogs barking and children happily playing. She left the slope behind and quickly got on her bike. A slight breeze blew at her hair and face, giving small reprieve from the heat. But soon all thoughts of the weather were forgotten as she enjoyed the physical challenge of maneuvering down a steep and rugged incline.

She fairly bursted with exhilaration. Lifting her feet of the pedals, she raced down a paved section of the main road. This was why she’d decided to ride her bike. As adolescent as it was, there was nothing like this feeling of peerless danger and complete freedom. Coming to a walled bend, Ororo placed her feet back on the pedals and slowed down.

She rode by deep valleyed slum areas embedded with makeshift homes. The foul odor of filth and human waste permeated the entire area, causing her to try and hold her breathe from the stench. Sadness clawed at her, as she passed run down shacks with wattle, covered in layers of plaster. Others weren’t as fortunate. They made their homes from whatever scraps they could find. From cardboard boxes to rusted tin sheets. People outside, socialized with anyone willing to stop and listened. The majority of her students would come from theses places. Where survival was a day-to-day feat. Where they would leave home with an empty stomach and the knowledge there might be nothing to eat when they returned.

She passed farmers carrying fierce looking machetes, warily working small acreages on sides of nearby mountains. Ororo slowed at the sight of a man trying to lure a stubborn donkey down a steep trail. The frustrated man yanked on a rope around the animals neck, then tried pushing its backside, but the obstinate animal refused to budge. Swatting flies with its tail, it wearily eyed the man. Now angry, the man raised fisted hands at the sky. Asking god for deliverance. Ororo couldn’t hold back the burst of laughter. There was never a dull moment.

Mindful of the passing time, she hurried until she came in sight of the crowded, city streets. She got of her bike and skirted around the bustling activity. Some people paused to stare at her wild mane of unusual hair and she ignored the attention. At least she was getting less and less attention as most of the locals were used to the loa. It was the tourists that continued to openly stare at the stunning white haired ‘witch’. Some even asked to touch the silken tresses for luck. Ororo did not mind. Most Haitians were a superstitious group and anything she might say would not be believed. She appeared different therefore she was a spirit or ‘protector’ from god. And as amusing as that idea was it became tiresome when parents refused to meet with her to discuss their child because of fear of angering her or they did come only looking for help and words of wisdom to take them out of their misery. Helplessly she had to turned them away with the unheard of message that she was just a
woman wanting only to educate.

Jacmel was the second major city in Haiti. Its picturestique oceanfront scarcely accommodated its growing population. Or it’s waning tourists. Similar to the cities, its main attraction was the large outdoor marche. Statistically located to face all the main roads in and out of the city, it took up several blocks and attracted the attention of the busloads of travelers and tourists headed to other providences.

Ororo passed the different stalls of fresh fruits and vegetables, canopied hand carved wooden statues and breathtaking oils depicting the Haitian culture. Vendors packed the streets. Some sold their goods on carts and plastic tablecloths held down by rocks on the ground, while others used large straw baskets. Women dressed in colorful patterns, carried precociously perched woven baskets of grains and beans on their heads. Several had their arms draped with beautiful fabrics of varies textures and colors, while a stack of folded materials was balanced on their maneuvered around the small spaces left by the throngs of sightseers and merchants.

Men dressed in cutoffs, cotton pants and dusty sandals pushed two wheeled carts with rapidly melting blocks of ice and bottles of colors syrups. A small bell tied on the side of the carts rang incessantly. Ororo watched as three youths distracted a vendor while a fourth tried sneaking a frozen treat. Becoming aware of what was occurring, the vendor chased after them. One boy circled back in time to shave a treat and dot away before the vendor returned.

Ororo moved around the market to where two story homes of antique ironwork and overhanging balconies lined the perimeter. Large signs over opened doors indicated boutiques, home made candy stories, and aromatic coffee houses for Jacmel’s extensive coffee exports.

Thinking to get some bread for the morning, she stopped at a door where delicious smells of freshly baked bread permeated her nose alluringly. She quickly leaned the bike against the side of the house and hurried inside.

“Bonsoir Monsieur. Saul. Kou mon ou ye?” she asked the white haired, old man standing behind the counter.

“Gras a dieu merci pa pi mal. What can I get for you today mademoiselle?” he asked with a toothless grin.

“I’ll just have two loaves, please.”

She waited as he turned to an old coal oven and pulled out to trays of golden brown, rolls. She immediately added several to her order. They would be perfect with dinner. Unmindful of the hot bread, monsieur Saul put her order in white paper bags and handed them to her.

“Merci monsieur Saul. Bon apresmidi.” She said handing him several gourdes. Purchase in hand, Ororo promptly retrieved her bike and left the shop. Dust swirling around her, she quickly made her way away from the overcrowded area.

Sweat poring down her face and neck; she wiped her arm across her forehead. Streaks of grim and dust came of on the sleeve of her white shirt. She looked down at her beige shorts and mud-splattered sneakers and groaned. What she wouldn’t do for a cold shower! But as she arrived home she’ll have less then an hour to get to the airport. Maybe if she hurried she might have enough time to at least change into a clean shirt.

With that thought on mind, she rode her bike towards a brick paved road leading towards the more prosperous side of the city. As she pedaled rapidly, her thoughts raced back to a couple of years ago when her life was completely different then it was now. She shuddered in retrospective chagrin. Three years ago, she’d been so naïve and gullible. If only she’d known then what she did now, maybe things would have been different.



While working at a local high school in Florida, she’d met Bishop Trenton. He and several other players from the Miami heat came to the school to talk with the kids about staying in school and setting goals for themselves.

The moment he’d stepped to the podium, Ororo had felt the attraction. It seemed so had he. As soon as he spotted her standing at the sidelines in the school’s auditorium, his eyes kept straying to her. Sending unspoken messages. After the speeches there was an autographed session, Bishop was immediately swallowed up by students. But their eyes met as she quickly slipped away to her next class.

At the end of the day, she was headed to her car when a black Mercedes with a dark tint blocked her path. Bishop sat behind the wheel, smiling up at her. Ororo’s pulse had raced. He was the most attractive African-American she’d ever seen. From his dark mocha complexion, to his hard, masculine build and smoldering dark eyes. He’d asked her out and at first she’d turned him down, but Bishop was as persuasive as he was persistent.

The weeks that followed were the best she’d ever had. He was everything she wanted in a man. Attentive, romantic and had a great sense of humor. The only drawback to their budding relationship was Bishop’s constant traveling with his team. But the long nightly calls he made kept her going until they were together again.

The first time, Ororo discovered Bishop’s lies was during the end of the basketball season and the Heat were in the semi-finals against the Chicago bulls. She’d decided to surprise him in his hotel room. Using the key she’d charmed from the desk clerk, she let herself into his suite. The thought of the passionate night ahead, drew a smile across her lips.

She’d just dropped her small overnight case on a chair, when she spotted the clothes on the floor. Dread knotted her stomach in tight knots. Of their own accord, her legs propelled her to an open door, where she could hear loud moans and groans coming from the room. Ororo peered inside and stared in shock disbelief at the three naked occupants on the large bed. A brunette bounced enthusiastically on the lower part of a prone and willing male body. She faced a black girl sitting on the mans face; the brunette moaned emphatically as the other girl groped her large breasts.

Embarrassed for having intruded in the wrong room, Ororo was about to quietly leave the way she’d come when the black girl spotted her and gasp. The other girl turned to look at her too. Ororo started to apologized and back out, when she heard Bishop’s voice. She froze. Pushing the girl from his face, Bishop raised up to see what had caused the interruption. The surprise look on his face would have been comical if it weren’t so painful. All the blood drained from Ororo’s face. Bishop pushed the other girl of and tried reaching for her but Ororo was quicker. She rushed out of that room as fast as her legs would take her. She didn’t stop until she was back on a plane headed home.

Safely back in her apartment the enormity of what happened hit her with its full impact. The surprised image of Bishop’s glistening face kept playing over in her mind. How could he have done that to her? Why hadn’t she opened her eyes to the truth? In retrospect she realized everyone from her father to her friends had tried to warn her, but she had not been willing to listen. Maybe the loneliness she’d felt had blinded her to the truth. God only knew how many times she’d seen his picture in the paper with other women.

She remembered confronting him once about a particularly provocative picture he’d taken at some party with a clinging redhead. He’d dismissed it by insisting she had nothing to be jealous about they were just fans and it was good publicity. Fool that she’d been, she believed him.

But that wasn’t the end of Bishop’s lies. The days that followed were painful for her, but more so with the expensive gifts of flowers and jewelry he kept sending. Even showing up at her door trying to persuade her to take him back. But she refused to give in. the pain of his betrayal went to deep.

It was a month after their break-up and Ororo was getting her mail downstairs when a petit, Chinese woman approached her. Made awkward by a protruding stomach, she seemed slightly winded when she stopped short a few feet from her.

“Ms. Munroe?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes. Can I help you? Mrs…?” Ororo asked with a smile on her face. She was certain this woman was the mother of one of her students.

“I’m Mrs. Bishop Trenton. If you have a moment I’d like to talk to you.” Ororo could only stare at the other woman. She couldn’t have heard correctly. Bishop never told her he was married!

“You’re surprised. I guess while slipping in and out of your bed my husband failed to mention that he has a wife and three kids at home.” She said sarcastically. Oh god! This couldn’t be true! The realization she’d been having an affair with a married man caused her knees to weaken. She felt sick to her stomach.

“I’m not here to pass judgment or to confront you, ms. Munroe.” Said the attractive brunette.

“Then why are you here?” Ororo asked weakly. A stab of pain hit her as she glanced down to see the other woman absently rub her rounded belly. That bastard! He’d been using her all this time! God almighty just this morning she’d almost weakened and answered one of his calls.

“I’m here to ask you to just leave my husband alone. As you can see we’re about to have our fourth child. I need Bishop with me.” Shocked outraged crossed Ororo’s face.

“Mrs. Trenton, I broke-up with Bishop a month ago! You should also know, I had no idea he was married.” Bishop’s wife looked skeptically at her.

“Even if that were true, would it have made a difference?

“Yes!” exploded Ororo. The single word ripped from her lips, leaving a moment of silence between them.

Miako Trenton stared into the eyes of the woman, who for months she’d been competing against for her husband’s time and attention. She wasn’t certain why she’d decided to track her down, but the second she’d spoken to Ororo Munroe she realized she was different from the others. This was no greedy whore looking for a rich husband. Perhaps sensing this, she’d needed to confront her. To face the woman who had stolen her husband’s heart. If this woman had told her the truth then Bishop’s odd behavior of the past couple of weeks had nothing to go with her. Then who? She should have left Bishop a long time ago, but how could she when she couldn’t live without him?

Emotionally weary of the whole situation she looked at her husband’s mistress. “I’m sorry if I bothered you, Ms. Munroe. I see now this was a mistake.” She whispered sadly. Ororo saw the pain on her face and realized Bishop’s wife knew of his other infidelities! Yet she seemed to accept it. Pity filled her heart for this seemingly fragile woman. This could have easily been her.

“Mrs. Trenton I don’t make it a habit of sleeping with married men. If I’d known I would never have gotten involved with Bishop.” It was strangely important to Ororo to make the other woman understand her remorse in her part of the affair. Miako smiled sadly. “I thing I believe you. But it doesn’t change anything, Ms Munroe. Sorry to have bothered you. Good-byes.” She turned and as quickly as she could got into a waiting limo.

Long minutes after she’d left Ororo stood there haunted by the despair on Bishop wife’s face. Knowing she held some responsibility for that pain tore at her. She should have seen what everyone else had. Being from a culture where fidelity was as extinct as the dinosaurs, she knew first hand the pain a wondering spouse could cause. Especially to the children. She and her brother were proof of that.

Hadn’t her own father strayed from his vows to have a child with another woman? The devastation that had caused her mother when she learned of the truth would forever stay with her. She’d sworn never to let that happen to her. But not only had she let it happen, she was the other woman!

She needed to get away. Away from the temptation Bishop still represented. Away from the pain of his wife and all the reminders of something that could never be. A week later, Ororo packed her bags and headed to her parents in Haiti.

A loud honk behind her drew her mind from the past and into the present. Ororo glanced behind her and saw a car trying to get around her. She hadn’t realized she’d moved in the middle of the road. Quickly she moved to the shoulder. The impatient driver, darting her a dirty look, raced by. Patience certainly wasn’t a virtue to some of the people here. Dismissing him from her mind, she continued her bone-jarring journey.

The apparent differences this side of the city was obvious. Salted breezes from the ocean cleansed the air. The entire countryside seemed to have been made by the expert brush strokes of an artist. Poinsettias trees spilling red blossoms over dense bushes provided stunning color. Royal Poinciana’s lined the sides of the smoothly paved road, allowing brief glimpses of tall hedges and stonewalls of private mansions. Beautiful, wild orchids lent fragrance and added beauty to the already breathtaking area.

This region near the southern coast provided some of the most tranquil and breathtaking sites on the entire island, not to mention some of the most elaborate houses in the world. The opulence of some of the homes was mind-boggling. Each mansion were custom built with all the modern conveniences and enormities taken for granted by people in the states but which were luxuries here.

She turned into a long curved road, which ended at tall, wrought iron gates with a gold lion crest. She got off the bike and pushed open the heavy gates. She walked into a wide, stone brick courtyard and stood for a moment to take in the sight before her. The large house was built overlooking a canopied green valley on one side and distant ridges and ocean on the other. Built to blend in with its surroundings, the two-story home had an aged appearance that gave it the charm and uniqueness of a rustic French chateau.

Large windows faced out at all sides, giving a splendid view of it’s surroundings. Rose bushels in vibrant colors were planted on the sides of the house. Several workers were trimming the full landscape of trees and bushes. Ororo had hoped they would be done before her parents return but it didn’t look like they would be finished in time. Judging by the time, it didn’t look like they would get through today. She signed. That’s when she spotted a tall, slim youth removing luggage from a Lexus SUV parked at the far side of the yard. Damn! It couldn’t be.

She dropped the bike and rushed to the youth. “Moise did my parents arrive?”

“Yes mademoiselle.” He answered, pausing in the mist of lifting another suitcase from the car. Ororo groaned. They were early!

“How long ago?”

“Just a couple of minutes ago. They called from the airport and Jean went to pick them up.” He answered in Creole.

“Merci, Moise.” Eager to see her parents, Ororo hurried through the oak double doors.

“Mom! Dad!”

She ran into the foyer and into a wall of unmovable solid steel. The wind knocked out of her, she felt her knees threatened to buckle under. Strong masculine hands reached out to steady her.

“Are you alright?” questioned a deep, sensual voice somewhere above her head. Ororo raised dazed eyes from a wide. Expanse of masculine chest, sensual lines of his mouth, a strong chiseled nose, to a pair of clear blue eyes.

Handsome, but not in an ordinary way. He was brutally so. A fierce jagged scar on the side of his face stood pale against his tanned skin. Her gazed swept to the hard thrust of his chin as he too, closely scrutinized her.

Glancing up into his eyes again, she felt as if she were drowning in their amused depths.

“Cherie? You’re finally home. We’ve been waiting for you.” Came a thick French accented voice behind them. Ororo reluctantly moved out of the circle of his strong arms and turned to face her mother.

“Hi mom! I’m so sorry for not being here in time to pick you up at the airport.” She said walking over to kiss her mothers perked cheek. A cloud of expensive perfume threatened to choke her.

“ We took an earlier flight. We figured you’d be to occupied with things at your little school.” N’dare Munroe explained.

“Well I’m glad you guys are home.” She said. Ignoring the snide remark.

“Me too, Mon Coeur. How did things go?”

“Great! Everyone passed to the next level. And…”

“If you insist on wasting your education on a bunch of kids who don’t deserve it then I’m glad things went well. But I’m sure if you called monsieur McCoy at the American Academy he would immediately offer you a position”

“Mom we’re been over this. I love what I’m doing.”

Seeing her mother was gearing up for an all out assault on what she considers to be a waste of her daughter’s time, Ororo decided to distract her.

“Where’s the old man?”

“If by old man you mean your father, he headed straight to his office the moment we arrived. He said something about returning some urgent phone messages that couldn’t wait. He’ll probably be out for dinner.” Replied N’dare. Sounding irritated.

Oh boy! N’dare’s attitude doesn’t sound like the trip went well.

“How was the trip? Did you guys have a good time? You look like you did, mom.” N’dare did look like she just walked of the cover of essence. Dressed in an elephant, red two-piece Versace suit with matching high-heeled pumps. Her white hair was twisted in a chignon and her hazel eyes sparkled. While her honeyed skin fairly glowed. Even at her age she eluded youthful energy and raw feminine sexuality.

“We had a marvelous time. I can’t remember the last time your father was so attentive. I almost forgot about… anyway we had a great time.” She said forcing a smile to her lips. The sadness lurking in her eyes was harder to hide.

“Sounds like you two hardly left your rooms.” Ororo teased, hoping to bring back the sparkle back in her mothers eyes. A becoming rush of color spread across N’dare’s cheeks. Who would have ever thought she would be able to tease her mother about sex! Especially without getting a backhand across the mouth or worse.

“Maybe for just a little while.” She smiled, indicating several boxes and extra suitcases cluttering the foyer.

“ Did you leave anything in the stores?” she asked. N’dare was notorious for her shopping sprees. If not for her father curtailing her expenditures she would probably bankrupt them inside of a month. But judging from all the boxes he wasn’t able to stop her this time.

Her mother shrug dismissively at the bags.” It could not be helped. The holidays are just around the corner so I started my shopping early.” N’dare turned to her. That’s when they both encountered the bemused blue eyes of the tall stranger watching them with amused indulgence.

“Bon dieu! Where are my manners! Logan Howlett, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Ororo.” She said in perfect English.

Under lazily hooded eyes, Logan had quietly observed mother and daughter. They could easily have passed for sisters; so similar were their exotic features. Both had an oval face that glowed with an inner and outer beauty that few women possessed. Twin hazel eyes fringed by long, dark lashes smiled out at him. But where N’dare exude elegance and sophistication her daughter held an air of hidden sensuality yet to be uncovered. Judging from her oversized shirt and baggy shorts that’s how she preferred it. Still it did nothing to hide the voluptuous curves hidden beneath.

Her unusual hair was white as snow, in a haphazard ponytail had wisps of curls framing a youthful face devoid of makeup. Yet despite her clothes and disheveled appearance, she was still emanating sensual pulses that were sending his imagination in sexual overdrive.

When she moved closer he felt the full shock of her. This was no teenager. She was a woman with all the beauty and allure of one who knew she didn’t have to flaunt it. Men would always find her desirable no matter how she tried to hide it. She had a raw sensuality that would grip a man square in his gut and never let him go. Just the unconscious sway of her hips as she approached him was doing things to his libido he much preferred not to think about. She was one good-looking woman.

This was the petit infante Maurice and N’dare had been talking about for the last week and a half? His job here suddenly got a lot harder.

She was off limits pal.

Yeah. Tell that to his abstinent hormones of the past eight months.

Logan stared at the dark smudges on her cheek and forehead and found he wanting to wipe them away. Her full lips curved into a mischievous grin as if she could read his thoughts. Oh yeah, she was differently her mother’s daughter and a possible distraction he hadn’t counted on. His strong reaction to her was proof of that.

Still he’d survived worst situations. This was just a walk in the park.

“Your parents have told me a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He held out a hand towards her.

Ororo stared at the man standing in front of her. She let her gaze travel leisurely from his head to his sneakers and back again. He was taller then she’d first thought. His short cropped hair the color of midnight seemed to be streaked with blue highlights where the sun touched it. Tanned a golden bronze, his features bespoke of strength and a hint of danger. Her eyes skimmed over his wide shoulders in a blue polo shirt and denim jeans that outlined his muscular physic.

Nice, real nice.

Where did that come from? No way was she attracted to this tall, muscular, hot looking hunk. Quickly raking him with her eyes again, Ororo mentally shook her head.

No way, not even remotely. He wasn’t even her type.

Too….tall.

And….too broad chested. He was differently not her type. In that case it shouldn’t be a problem shaking his hand.

But it was.

Still holding out his hand, he fixed her with an amused almost challenging stare. She hesitated for a moment longer, something about him unsettled her. Made her aware of him like she hadn’t been aware of a man in a long time. Sensing her unease, a flicker of a smile player at the corner of his lips.

Calm down girl his just a man.

Pushing aside her unease, Ororo grasped his hand in a firm hold. A sudden trickle of sensations tingled where he enveloped hers. She looked into his eyes to see if he felt the same things, but only spied a strange look that was quickly masked in the next instant. She was acting foolish. Guess that’s what happens when a person was severely hard up for sex.

“I hope it was all good things.” At the confused look in his eyes she said “what my parents told you about me.

“They raved about you. I almost expected a paragon of virtue instead of a flesh and blood woman.” He murmured, lost in her sparkling eyes. Ororo’s throat went dry. She willed herself to let go of his hand and move back, but her body had a will of it’s own.

“Well I certainly hoped you aren’t disappointed.” She hated the husky tone in her voice.

“Surprised, but differently not disappointed.”

For several seconds they stood gazing in each other’s eyes. Was he flirting with her or was it wishful thinking? Girl you need to get laid. Bad too, if she was now seeing signals where there were none. Then again how often does a fine white man stand in her foyer looking down at her with a sexy grin?

“Let’s go into the living room so you can tell me everything that’s been going on.” Interrupted N’dare. Logan realized at the same time as Ororo that their hands were still clasped. Slowly he released her.

Get a grip Logan! Not only was this the daughter of a close family friend but also he wasn’t here to get personally involved with anyone. No matter how delectable a package Ororo Munroe was. Now all he had to do was convinced his body of that.

Following her, he willed himself not to look down at her provocatively swaying hips. But he was powerless to keep his eyes from straying down.

So he was looking. There was no harm in that. Staying away from her would be a piece of cake.

Yea right. Logan was sure a woman that hot was more handfuls then anything else. But what a handful!

The room they entered was spacious but comfortably furnished. Coffered mahogany covered the low ceiling and bordered French doors leading to the garden. Antique and modern pieces were her mother wasn’t being intentionally vindictive, she just didn’t approve of her children’s choices or the mixing of the social classes. Believing they were crossing lines best left alone. That didn’t mean her narrow views didn’t hurt.

“What mother means, Logan is that an organization of some people have donated money to help build a much needed public school here.”

“That’s very generous.”

“Yes it is. Considering most upper class Haitians are not known for their generosity towards the ‘ignorant masses’.”

“Squandering money on people who refuse to help themselves is only a crutch for laziness.” N’dare said just as a maid brought in a tray of refreshments.

After the girl left, Ororo turned to her mother. “Mom how can you do that!” she could barely contain her anger. She was used to her parent’s callous remarks but to openly voice her opinions in front of a member of their staff was more then Ororo could handle.

“What? It is the truth. You must face that we are different from them cherie.

She should have been used to her mother’s bigoted views since she’d been exposed to them for most of her life but she wasn’t. Nor would she ever be. Raised to believe that her French ancestry, money and light completion made them superior to the common, dark skinned Haitian her mother’s words were often laced with thinly help contempt.

“If you’ll excuse me Logan, I think I’ll go take that shower now.” Ororo could feel her mothers angry stare follow her out of the room. She knew she would hear it later but right now she was too angry and embarrass to care.

Differently a surprise. Logan thought as he watched her angrily departing back. In more ways then one. To bad he wouldn’t be here long enough to discover all of them. Another place, at another time perhaps..no. He wasn’t going down that road again. He already knew what was at the end. Pushing down an odd twinge of regret, he dismissed the image of twinkling hazel eyes full of promise from his mind.

Leaning against the closed door, Ororo took long deep breaths until she was calmed. How could her mother do that? The worst part was that as time past she was getting even more irrational with her racist views. They’d lost several wonderful maids because of it. She signed. What must Logan Howlett think of them? I bet he never encountered blacks who were racist against their own race before. She wondered about him. Who was he? What was he doing here? More importantly was he married?

Was she for real! That man downstairs didn’t hold the slights interest for her. Not that she held any of her mother’s prejudices where color was concern, it’s just that she never thought she would be attracted to a white man. Sure she thought guys like tom cruise, Harrison ford, and even former president Bill Clinton were cute. Who didn’t? But she had to admit the instant attraction she’d felt towards Logan ran deeper then color. Deeper then anything she’d ever felt before. She’d responded to him in a purely feminine level. Raw and primal. She started down at her hand. It stilled tingled from his touch. What was wrong with her? There was no way she was going to let herself get involved with anyone. Nevertheless some white man she didn’t know anything about! Besides the man didn’t exactly fall over himself with interest.

For reasons she didn’t want to delve into, that thought was disheartening. Maybe the ride in the hot sun had affected her more them she’d thought. Mentally shaking herself she pushed away from the door and began taking off her dusty cloths and dropped them on a chair facing the bed. Recently redecorated by N’dare, her room was artfully decorated to suite her personality. All the furnishings except for the comfortable chair and table next to the window were made in Haiti or imported from France.

Faux finished walls with gold and platinum accents created a wonderful backdrop for her furnishings. A magnificent, hand carved, oak bed, large armoire, and matching nightstand crafted by local artists were her favorites. A silk cream coverlet with intricate floral, on the bed emphasized the beauty and richness of the wood. Luxuriously textured throw pillows in rich earth tone colors were arranged invitingly against the headboard. One thing was certain; her mother had excellent taste.

Turning from the comfort of her surroundings, she walked out to the wrought iron balcony. Adjoined with the room next door, the wide balcony faced to the rear of the house. The serene view of the pool below and distant Caribbean Sea never failed to bring her comfort.

Close to nightfall the sky was awashed in various red and orange hues as the sun slowly disappeared in the horizon. She could see small glimpses of the sparkling ocean awashed in color. The heat was replaced by a gentle, soothing breeze. The strong fragrance from the roses below mingled in the air. She loved evenings like this. Holding onto the railing, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the humid and salted air. The slight, cooling wind felt wonderful on her heated skin.

She signed wistfully, feeling unusually restless. Always truthful with herself, Ororo realized that tall hunk of manhood downstairs was already playing havoc with her already heightening senses. Thank god a cold shower could easily aid what ailed her.

Opening the door out to the balcony, Logan felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. Still as a statue, he couldn’t believe the sight that met his eyes. The spectacular sunset as her backdrop, he stared at a half naked Ororo Munroe!

His instant arousal was fierce and surprising with its intensity. Clad in only transparent, scraps of lace she stood unabashed as a breeze touched her in a gentle caress. The thin scraps left nothing to the imagination.

Aware she hadn’t seen or heard him, Logan unashamedly inched the door open wider and let his eyes trail down her body. Her hair caught by the stunning array of colors from the suns rays, freely wiped behind her like a long puffed cloud. Her beautiful face turned up to the sky, was radiant and serene, she arched her back, pushing her full breasts against the flimsy fabric of her white bra. A thin scrap of lace rode high on her rounded hips. He got a tantalizing view of her firm buttocks and slender legs.

He swore silently. His instincts had warned him she would be trouble. Now look at him, standing here practically salivating over her. He should have turner and walked back into his room, but he couldn’t seem to move. He ordered his feet to step back, but instead found them moving closer to her.

“Beautiful isn’t it”

Ororo’s eyes flew open and she wiped around. A gasped of shock escaped her startled lips. Leaning nonchalantly against the side railing, staring intently at her was the reason for her sudden longings! His bare, muscular chest glistening in the setting sun. Her fascinated gaze dropped down his flat abdomen to the top of his jeans and fixed on the dark, curls leading to… she jerked her gaze back up to his hard chest.

Jesus!

The breath caught in her throat. She raised her gaze to blink up into his glimmering eyes,

She wanted him. Plain and simple.

Yeah right. Nothing that hot was simple.

Concealing his own sharp intake of breath Logan gazed down at the full frontal view of her scantily clad body. He could make out her taut nipples and the patch of curls pressing against the white lace of her panties.

He gulped for air. The question that had plagued him since he saw her had been answered. Her hair was real, but that damn thing barely covered her! He told himself not to look, to go back, that this woman was off limits. But he couldn’t budge. Logan was mesmerized. His eyes darkened as his gaze wondered again down her body, almost memorizing every angle, expanse of dark skin, the length of naked legs in all its feminine glory. He could barely breath. The throbbing evidence of his arousal pushed painfully against his jeans. Damn!

At the look in his eyes, Ororo felt an answering tremor vibrate through her body. An ache, sharp and deep gripped her from inside. She shifted uneasily. His aroused flesh, beckoned her to move closer. Finding herself almost unwillingly moving towards him, she tried to come to her senses. God this couldn’t be happening! She was standing practically naked in front of a total stranger and all she could think about was having him touch her as his gaze had!

She acknowledges what her flaming body was telling her. As unbelievable as it was she couldn’t deny she wanted this man. But acknowledging it and doing something about it were two different things. Her gaze kept returning to the curves of his sun-bronzed muscles and below…

Her face flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here.” She stammered.

“Neither did I.” His voice slightly hoarse. He struggled to gain control of the situation. If only she wasn’t staring at him with that mixture of innocence and sultry seductress.

“I’d better go get ready for dinner.” She saw him swallow. His head looked towards her room.

“Yes. That’s a great idea.” He almost snapped. A man could only take so much. Family friend or not if she didn’t leave he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened.

She knew she should be the one to leave but she couldn’t move. With that hungry look in his eyes her own answering need kept her rooted to the spot. She felt a hard pressure on her chest making it difficult to breath. If only she were bold enough to close the distance between them and…

Good lord! What was she thinking?

“If one of us doesn’t leave I won’t be responsible for what happens.” He growled. Seeing the purposeful intent in his eyes, Ororo took a step back. Holy shit!

Facing flaming, she turned and raced back into her room slamming the doors; she pulled the drapes closed against the grim look on his face.

Moving away from the door, she stared at it. She could hear her own breath loud in the quiet room. What had she been thinking? Going out like that! She should have known he would have been put in the guestroom next door.

Stupid! Stupid!

To make matters worst she’d practically thrown herself at him! She must be seriously hard up to feel this way. But the look in his eyes had promised things she’d long forgotten but still yearned for, he had been as fully aroused as she was. The way his eyes had stripped away even the scant covering of her. Underwear…she shuddered. Even now her body was urging her to go back out there.

A loud knock at the door caused her to jump. Oh my god! What if that were him coming to fore fill what his eyes had openly promised she stood staring at the door willing whomever was on the other side to leave. Just as she made a grab for something to cover up with the door suddenly opened and the maid walked in. filled with relief and embarrassment, Ororo sat heavily on the bed, great! In less then an hour of meeting this man she was acting like a complete sex starved basket case.

“Oh! Excuse me mademoiselle. I not know you ici.” Ororo smile. Germaine never failed to make her laugh with her broken English. Since the age of thirteen during her summer vacations, Ororo had tried to show her the proper way to speak English, but Germaine seemed determine to do it her way. Which provided for some amusing moments.

Older by five years, Germaine was the complete opposite of her. She was tall, graceful and her skin was as black and smooth lllike velvet. Large gold earrings, slapped against her neck. Her short, corn rolled hair framed a delicate face. She’d been Ororo’s constant companion and confidant, but since her return, the girl had erected a wall between them. And she was using their social class to do it. Ororo supposed it had something to do with her new boyfriend, but she missed their old commodry. She couldn’t understand why her old friend couldn’t accept that she was more like a part of the family then a servant.

Ororo signed. “I was just seating here trying to decide what to wear for dinner.” She lied. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of Logan’s bare chest.

“This afternoon, I go to take dirty clothes to Solànge.” Germaine said by way of the folded clothes in her arms.

‘Germaine I can take my own clothes to have them cleaned.” But the other girl just ignored her and went to the armoire.

“Fine. If you want to act like my servant instead of my friend then I can’t stop you, but remember this Germaine we were close once and you can’t take that away.” Ororo stormed. Annoyed at her behavior. Germaine hesitated for a moment, and then kept arranging the clothes.

“You see the blanc come avec your parents?” she asked tentatively. Ororo silently groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Logan Howlett!

“Yes I saw him.”

“What I do to a man like that! Sex no be boring.” Germaine said dreamily.

Remembering, his cropped hair and the tight muscles of his chest, Ororo had to agree.

“I wouldn’t know nor do I plan to find out.” She mumbled more to herself then the closely observing girl.

“To bad. If I be you I find out.” Germaine smiled slyly. Ororo felt a pang of something akin to jealousy. She dismissed it just as quickly. Instead wondering when had she changed so completely. These days she barely recognized the other girl. Before, just the thought of kissing a man would have sent her into a holier then thou tale spin. Now here she was completely sleeping with a total stranger as if it were nothing! Shaking her head, She glanced over at the clock on the night table. Oh shit! It was almost six-thirty.

“Germaine I’ve got to take a shower or be late for dinner. We’ll talk later, okay.” Without a word, she turned and left. Puzzled, Ororo quickly removed her underwear. Something was going on with Germaine. Later she was going to have a talk with her. It was about time she found out what was troubling the other girl.

Naked, she walked into her marble bathroom and stood under the cold spray of a shower. After the ride home and even hotter time on the balcony, she enjoyed the feeling of the cascading water on her heated flesh. She wouldn’t have mind staying there for at least an hour, but she was eager to see her dad. A little voice pointed out that she wouldn’t mind seeing Logan as well. But she smothered it down. Black or white she wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone. No matter how attracted she was to him.

Shutting off the water, she wrapped a plush towel around her slim form and padded back into her room. She quickly dried herself off and discarded the towel on the chair. Going into the walking closet, she looked for something to wear. She decided on a black, channel slip dress and pulled it on. Smoothing the soft folds down, she pulled the side zipper closed. The dress hugged her soft curves and accentuated her shapely legs. She loved the feeling of the light material swirling at her every move. Looking in the mirror of the armoire, she ran a comb through the tangled mass of shoulder length hair and let it dry in soft curls around her face. A light touch of lipstick and mascara. She slipped on a pair of black, high-heeled sandals. She stood back to survey the result.

Not bad. Not bad at all.
Pushing down a quiver of excitement she left her room.

“Get a room you two. “Ororo said upon walking into the living room to find her parents cuddling on the sofa. She smiled at the way they guiltily sprang apart.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming down.” Teased Maurice Munroe as he stood with open arms towards her. Ororo quickly rushed into his warm embrace.

“And miss welcoming you home? Not a chance.” After kissing his cheek, she beamed up at her him. Studying his features, she noticed small changes in his appearance. He looked more relaxed. More like his old self. The harsh worry lines were gone. The sparkle was back in his eyes. The trip had obviously done him some good.

Maurice Munroe in his early sixties was still a handsome man. With salt and peppered hair, he was of average built with a slight, rounded belly. His dark eyes showed his intellect and shrewdness that had gotten him through a hard childhood and later through law school to become a respected attorney. Taller by a few inches, his dark coloring complemented his wife’s fair skin. Together they made a striking couple.

“Does that mean you missed your old dad?”

“Of course. Since Remy is almost as good as me, I missed having someone to beat at chest.” Referring to their ongoing game in his office.

“ Well daughter prepare to be disappointed, because your old man has some new tricks up his sleeve.” He said giving her another bear hug.

Ororo laughed. “We’ll see about that, dad.” Taking a seat next to her mother.

“You maybe surprised Cherie, your father has been full of surprises lightly.” Ororo smiled at the look that transpired between them. If this keeps up they would be fine.

After N’dare miscarriage in her last trimester, her parents seemed to drift apart. Instead of the tragedy bringing them closer, it was tearing them apart. They’d weather things in the past but this time Ororo and Remy had been beside themselves with worry. Her parents fought constantly. It had gotten to the point where her parents couldn’t even stand being in the same room together. There was even talk of divorce. Thank god they had not given up.

“Alright you two stop ogling each other and tell me what you did on your trip. By the way dad, who is this Logan Howlett?”

“Impertinent pup. Logan’s the son of an old army buddy. His here on business. As far as the trip, I’ll leave that to your mother. I’m getting a drink. Anyone else want one?”

“I’ll have one.”

Ororo visiblely shook at the sound of Logan’s deep voice. They all turned as he walked in. brilliant blue eyes found her. Forcing their earlier encounter to the surface. Heat rushed to her face. Had he heard what they were discussing? She tried to tear her gaze away, but Logan in a dark dinner jacket, blue shirt and black trousers was compelling. His hair still wet from his shower, lay plastered to his head. The sensual lines of his lips were turned up into a sexy, beguiling smile. Earlier he could have easily graced the covers of playgirl, but now he looked like he stepped off the covers of GQ! He was the essence of masculinity.

The man was fine!

“Logan come in. Have a seat. What can I get you?” Maurice asked

“I’ll have whatever you’re having Maurice.”

“Settling in okay?” her father asked. Handing him a crystal glass with a dark liquid.

“Yes, thank you.” He replied before sitting in a chair across from them.

Logan glanced at the twin visions of mother and daughter. They both looked stunning. But it was Ororo who held his gaze. The beautifully poised and confident woman next to N’dare looked nothing like the bedraggled teenager or seductive siren of before. This Ororo in a little black dress was as poised and self-assured as her mother. And sexy as hell!

Her vivid eyes filled with laughter before, now held a guarded expression as they tried to avoid his. He almost laughed out loud as her eyes darted around before settling uneasily on him. Did she really think he would bring up their little encounter in front of her parents? If she were white he was certain her cheeks would be a flaming red right about now. Which would completely ruin the cool outer poise she was trying so hard to effect. Strangely the only think it was doing to him was making him wonder what scraps of lace lay beneath that dress.

Trouble. Pure and simple. He’d be a fool to let his guard down around her.

Ororo couldn’t take her eyes off Logan. Especially since every time she happened to glance in his direction he was already looking at her. His eyes seemed to burn into hers. Briefly she wondered if her parents could feel the mounting tension between them.

“Logan if you need anything, Ororo will be able to help you. Right honey?”

Guess not.

Struggling to regain some semblance of her composure, she groaned at her father’s words. Great! She was coming to the conclusion the further she stayed away from Logan the better and here was her dad practically throwing her at him! The last thing she wanted was to spend any time in his company, especially alone. From the look on Logan’s face he felt the same way too.

Fine by her.

“Actually dad…” she began, at the same time as Logan.

“That won’t be necessary……”

They looked at each other.” I’m sure Ororo already has plans. She doesn’t need to baby sit me too.”

“Nonsense. With school out, she has the entire summer ahead of her. She could take you around until you become familiar with the area.” Maurice insisted.

Just like her father to conveniently forget she would be busy with the school all summer. She loved him but sometimes he could be such an overbearing, tyrannical, Haitian male!

Ororo noticed the flash of annoyance, quickly masked, in Logan’s blue eyes. Seems Dr. Howlett was determined to keep his distance. Was it because of the obvious sexual tension between them or was it something else? Well if it was a tour guide he needed then that’s what he’d get. Dismissing her earlier resolve to keep her distance, she turner a wide smile on him.

“Really Logan I don’t mind. I’ll be happy to show you our beautiful country.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed across at her. A little warning bell was going of in his head. He knew perfectly well his company was the last thing she wanted. So what was she up to? His eyes looked over her beautiful face and generous expanse of high cleavage. His blood stirred. To think he’d thought she was tomboyish! Oh no. Ororo Munroe was differently a hot little number. And every instinct in his body told him to keep away from her.

“Thank you.” He finally murmured. Leaning back against the cushion of the chair, he took a sip of his glass. The strong liquid burned a path down his throat.

What the hell! Was Maurice trying to kill him?

“Logan, are you alright?” N’dare asked noticing the look on his face. Quickly cherie get some water.”

Ororo went to a pitcher of cold water and poured a glass from the side bar and handed it to him. The brief contact sent sensations racing up her arm.

“He took several mouth fulls before smiling up at her. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a drinker.”

“I should have warned you, Logan Rum Barbancourt is very strong. It takes some getting use too.” Maurice said apologetically.

“Wei I myself much prefer wine, but perhaps you will prefer something less concentrated? Darling pour Logan a glass of cremasse.”

“Sure mom.” Ororo waited for the empty glass from him before returning with the creamy, thick mixture. He eyed it dubiously.

“Don’t worry, this is not as lethal.” She whispered to him. She tried not to smile at the skeptical rise of a dark brow.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Without taking his eyes of her, he took a tentative sip. A smile of appreciation crossed his lips.

“Different, but not bad.” She couldn’t help returning his smile.

“I’m glad you approve.”

“Very much.” Some how she didn’t think they were talking about his drink anymore.

“Son-of-bitch! I can’t believe this! His actually going to run for office! That drug dealing thug is going to cause us to lose everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve the last couple of years!” Maurice thundered from his chair. He held the folded issue of the local paper. Panic churned in Ororo’s stomach. What was that paper still doing there? She’d told Germaine to get rid of it yesterday! Damn that girl!

His eyes still on Ororo. Logan wondered what had put that look in her eyes. It was as if she were nervous about something. He wondered if it had anything to do with whoever was pissing Maurice off?

“Amor! What is it?” asked N’dare, alarmed at her husband’s tirade. Especially in front of a guest.

“It’s yesterday’s paper announcing Victor Creed’s candidacy for president. I meant to get rid of it before you got home.” Ororo mumbled. She’d known her father would be angry when he saw that damn paper, but not like this. She prayed he didn’t open the paper to the article on the next page.

As soon as he heard Ororo say the name, Logan sat up. He started paying close attention to the conversation.

“Bon dieu! If that man were elected it would be like Duvalier regime all over again.” Moaned her mother.

“No honey. Worst. Victor Creed is not only power hungry but also his ruthless. He’ll get rid of anyone who stands in his way. He doesn’t give a damn about the people. Only what he can take from them.” Raged Maurice.

“Aren’t there other candidates?” questioned Logan.

“Yes, but none of the others will use the same high handed tactics he does and the others don’t use the people’s desperation to incite violence.” Maurice answered. Ororo knew there was a lot more her father wasn’t saying. A lot more. She understood he thought by keeping things from them he was protecting her and N’dare, but there were something’s they couldn’t be protected from. No matter how hard he tried. Nor could she protect him from what she still had to tell him. Hopefully before he saw the other article.

“Dad there’s more.” She hesitated. Indecision mirrored on her face. How could she tell him that the man he’d loved like a brother had been viciously murdered and his wife brutally raped? God knows what this would do to him.

“What is it? It can’t be any worse then this?” he flung the paper distastefully down on the coffee table.

“Actually dad it is. I was going to wait to tell you but since you’ve seen the paper I may as well tell you the rest.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Charles Xavier is dead. He was gunned down five days ago inside his home.”

N’dare gasped in shock beside her. Ororo kept her eyes on her father. He slowly rose up from his chair and went to refill his glass. He gulped downed the rum and without warning slammed the glass down. Shattering it.

“I tried to call him earlier, but no answered.” He said so softly they could barely hear him.

Next-door neighbors, Maurice and Xavier had grown up together. Both were from struggling, middle class families who harbored ambitious plans for their future. At seventeen, Maurice had been sent to the United States to study while Xavier remained.

Instead of going straight to college Maurice had joined the army and continued his studies there; Xavier had gotten into Haitian politics by way of the radio. After twenty years, a wife and two kids later, Maurice retired from the army. Continuing his studies until he held a law degree, he had climbed the ropes quickly in a New York law firm. But Maurice never forgot his roots. Over the years he’d returned on vacations but he’d always held hopes of returning to retire in the place of his birth.

Thirty-five years later, their lives collided again. Maurice decided it was time to return home. At Xavier’s urgings he opened a law office in Xavier’s radio station. It wasn’t long before they were a force for the people. Together they were responsible for educating Haitians about the dangers of AIDS, making changes in the deplorable state of the hospitals, and fighting political injustices. It was Maurice who talked him into running for the alternate prize to help Haiti.

“Irene and the kids?” Maurice rasped out. His voice filled with unshed tears.

For a moment, Ororo glanced at Logan. The look in his eyes gave her the courage she needed to continue.

“It happened in the middle of the night. They locked the kids in a closet then beat and raped her. They wore masks so she didn’t see their faces. Just as well because they would probably have killed her too.”

“Bon dieu!” her mother whispered. Her hands going to her face in horror.

“How are they?” Maurice asked. His voice raw and barely audible. Irene and the kids were as much his family as uncle Xavier had been.

A lump wedged in her throat, making it difficult to talk.

“Physically they’ll be fine. But I don’t know. Little Magnus hasn’t said a thing since it happened.”

“That poor child.” Murmured N’dare, her voice slightly rising with anger. “Do you see what I mean about those people?” she said glaring. “When will this stop Maurice? They’re invading our homes and hurting our families!”

N’dare words hung in the sudden silence. Ororo felt the pain of having to be the one to bring them the bad news press down on her. Her parents have gone through too much to have to deal with this too.

“When’s the funeral?” croaked her father.

“It was three days ago. Pascal wanted it as soon as possible. She’s taking the kids to live with her sister in Westchester, New York.

“When are they leaving?” he asked. His face itched in pain, stared at her. Ororo looked away. She could never handle seeing her father hurt and being the one to inflict this kind of hurt didn’t help.

“Next week.” Her eyes filled with sympathy, she tried to let him know he didn’t have to go through this alone. “I’m sorry dad. Uncle Xavier was a wonderful man.”

Maurice turned to her, pain and anger reflected in eyes so said that Ororo felt the knot in her chest tighten. “Sorry? You’re sorry! Why didn’t you just tell us, Ororo? We spoke with you and Remy almost every day, yet no one saw fit to let us know my best friend was murdered!” He yelled.

Ororo flinched. Her father rarely used that tone of voice with her. She clinched her fist so tightly, her nails dug into the palm of her hand.

“Maurice calm down. Your blood pressure!” pleaded N’dare.

I won’t calm down! Not until I get an explanation!” he shouted. Logan didn’t want to interfere but Maurice was loosing it. He made to rise when Ororo spoke.

“We thought with what happened, it was best if you didn’t know until you and mother got back. I’m really sorry dad, but you and mother needed some time together.”

“Of course we did cherie. Your father’s not thinking clearly right now.” N’dare stared at her husbands before he looked away. He ran a tired hand through his hair and signed.

“Your mother’s right honey. I’m not blaming you. I’m just angry. I can’t believe what’s happening to this country.” He said resignedly. “I think I’ll go see Irene and the kids. See if there’s anything I can do.”
“I’ll come with you. “N’dare rose up from the sofa and walked to her husband. She held on to his arm as they tenderly looked into each other’s eyes.

“Is there anything I can do? Asked Logan. Maurice shook his head.

“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do, right now. You kids go on and have some dinner. We’ll see you in the morning.” Arm in arm they left the room.

“Will he be alright?” Logan asked. Ororo turned to him. A sad smile on her face.

“Yes. Mother will make sure of it.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who is this guy Creed and why if anything does he have to do with the death of Maurice’s friend?”

“He is a demon from hell sent to destroy my people! Charles Xavier was also running for the presidency. And until his death he was expected to win.” Answered Ororo distractedly. Logan shook his head with dawning understanding.

“Did the cops find out who’s responsible?”

“No, those fumbling idiots couldn’t find a clue if it kicked them in the ass. There’s too much corruption in the ranks. Besides we know who’s responsible. It’s just a matter of proving it.”

“Creed.”

If there was an edge to his voice, Ororo was to worried about her parents to notice.

“Everything points to him. It’s just that no one’s willing to come forward.” Bitterness in her voice. “People here are just so resigned to letting others try to save them, they don’t realize they have the power to save themselves.” Filled with conviction, her voice held a hint of anger.

“Like any other politically oppressed culture, fear can be a potent tool to keep people from using their constitutional rights, Ororo.”

“Yes, but for how long? So many other countries haves faced the same obstacles that we do and they manage to overcome them. Why can’t Haiti? When will we be able to use those rights without fear or intimidation?”

Surprised at the intensity with which she spoke, Logan regarded her with dawning admiration and respect. Sensing he’d probably under-estimated her. Maybe he’d wanted to believe she was no more then a pretty face still depending on her parents.

“Like all things worth having it takes time. Maybe the changes are just around the corner.”

“Not if Creed gets into office. “She responded heatedly. Logan studied the woman across from him. How much did she know about why he was really here? Had Maurice confided in her? No he decided Maurice wouldn’t risk his daughter’s safety.

Lord, but she was hot. The exotic lines of her features were sensually alluring. Her long, bronze legs stretched out sexily in front of her. Sending his mind down a road he best not go down. Still he felt an uncontrollable urge to kiss those full lips. He wondered how they would feel under his?

No doubt about it. She was trouble, with a capital T.

“Were there any witnesses?” he asked. Trying to remain focused.

“No one came forward”

“So there might be?”

“Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“You sure it’s not more? For a moment there you almost sounded like a cop.”

He laughed “No. Just too many episodes of NYPD Blues back home.”

“Excuse me mademoiselle. Dinner is read.” Interrupted a petit, girl standing shyly at the door in.

“Merci Arlett, my parents won’t be joining us. But they may want something later.”

“Oui mademoiselle.” Briefly sending a sly glance at Logan she scurried from the room. Shaking her head, Ororo gazed sardonically at Logan. Looks like their handsome guest was causing the same kind of reaction with most of the female occupants in the house.

“Dinners ready. Shall we?” not waiting for a response Ororo left the room and walk down the hall to the dinning room. Painted in a remarkable mural of a Grecian temple, the room overlooked out to the garden. An extra-ordinarily ornate table with marble animal base set elaborately for two, cobalt-blue silk covered chairs and gold carved, rococo style armchairs completed the furnishings.

‘This is great.” Remarked Logan. Looking closely at the small scrawl where Ororo had signed her name.

“You did this?” he asked. At her embarrassed shake of her head, Logan stared at her in admiration. “This is incredible.”

“Thanks. Let’s eat. I’m starved.” Being alone with him in this room discussing her secret passion made her suddenly feel completely vulnerable.

The table was beautifully set with her mother’s finest china and crystal. A vase filled with freshly cut yellow roses sat between tall candles, creating a soft, almost intimidate glow. Before she could ease into the chair, Logan held it out for her before taking his own seat across from her. Placing her cloth napkin on her lap, Ororo looked up when Arlett, followed by Moise entered. They carried trays of covered dishes that teased at its aroma.

“Merci Arlett.” They uncovered steaming plates of lambi, grilled chicken, rice and red beans, fried plantain and three kinds of salads. Authentic Creole dishes. Saying a quick prayer of thanks to the almighty, Ororo picked up the bowls of lambi. Her mouth watered at the delicious dish. After placing a spoon on her plate she handed the bowl to Logan. It occurred to her that he might not like the spicy dish.

“If you’d like something else Logan I can see what we have.”

“Are you kidding? After that lousy airline food, a home cooked meal is greatly appreciated.” He said smiling at Arlett as she poured red wine in his glass. After filling Ororo’s glass Arlett and Moise both left.

They ate in relative silence for several minutes as each enjoyed their meal. Logan hungrily spooned lambi into his mouth. Enjoying the spicy conch.

“My dad said you were here on business. What kind?”

“Acquisitions. Land to be exact. The company I work for is interested in building a hotel here.”

Her brows arched up. “Another company bringing the promise of hope. But we both know you’re only interested in depleting our scarce resources. And in order to do that you’ll be lining the pockets of all the unscrupulous politicians to look the other way. Any means to an end. Right?”

Logan saw the challenging glint in her eyes daring him to contradict her. He reached for his glass and slowly toke a sip. All the while feeling those piercing eyes trained on him. She leaned back against her chair, waiting for his response. Their dinner momentarily forgotten.

Meeting her challenge, he said “Aren’t you being narrow minded? Foreign companies take a risk by coming here, but they attempt it anyway. Because it not only benefits them but the people here as well. And you forgetting this country has a history of turning on its businesses whenever there’s any kind of political conflict. That makes the risks that much greater for anyone considering investing here.”

“Then why come? Why risk it?”

“You said it yourself. Financial gain. This countries coming elections will be closely observed not only by the United States but by many other countries. If things are handled correctly and democratically, Haiti could be facing a very prosperous future. With stability and financial backing this island could be a Caribbean gold mine.”

“Gold mine for whom, Logan? Certainly not for the millions of poverty stricken families who really need help. Or the children that wake up with an empty stomach only to go to bed the same way. They barely make it day in or day out!”

“Then I would think the possibilities of jobs and a surplus of new currency would be welcomed.” He answered. He felt like he was under a spotlight and he didn’t like it. It was time to turn the tables around.

“Perhaps those families who seat back in the lap of luxury while the problem exist right outside their front doors should be the ones to help make changes. Instead of helping to solve the problem they are instead a major part of it!” he said smoothly. Logan knew as he said it he wasn’t being completely fair, but he had felt compelled to take her righteous indignation down a peg or two. Judging by the angry daggers coming from her eyes he’d hit his mark.

“How dare you! You don’t know my family or me. We’ve done more for this country then most people have done in a lifetime! If my people didn’t have to deal with so much external interference then maybe we might be able to make some changes!”

“Ororo I’m….”

Angrily pushing her chair back, she jerked to her feet and threw her napkin on her unfinished plate. Her eyes shooting daggers at him.

“If you’ll excuse me. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.” She angrily rose from her seat and threw her napkin on the table. She turned to leave. Rushing to his feet before she left. Logan grabbed her wrist as she tried to storm past him.

“Ororo wait. I apologize. I had no right to say those things. You’re right I don’t know you, but I’d like too.”

For several seconds her face was a mixture of outrage and indignation then she signed. “No. I’m the one who should apologize. I started the interrogation. It’s just that since coming to live here I’ve seen first hand what these people have to go through. I guess I get a little carried away when I don’t think others see that and take what they go through lightly.”

“That wasn’t my intention. Not all companies are out mainly for profits, Ororo.” At the skeptical look on her face he smiled.

“Really! At least my company isn’t. People come first with us. That’s the only way we can continue to grow. I promise you if I think for one moment that any deals I make here won’t benefit both side’s in the long run then I’ll pack my bags and be on the next plane back to the states.” His penetrating eyes fixed on her face, willing her to believe him. A smile played along his lips. She found herself hard press not to return it.

“My job is to build something that people will enjoy for a long time. If Haiti is that place then we’ll be here for the long haul.”

“Pretty words Mr. Howlett. But can you live up to them?”

Logan leaned towards her. He was so close that the front of his jacket brushed her dress. Suddenly the air cackled with electrical currents. The dizzying sensations he caused earlier started up at the pit of her stomach and worked its way all over her body.

Oh boy!

“When you get to know me better you’ll learn I don’t say things I don’t mean. And I never do anything that I’ll regret later.” He said softly. He held her gaze for a second longer before embracing the seductive temptation of her. At first the kiss was gentle, lip-to-lip.

Then he tasted her.

He was like a drowning man willingly letting her sweetness envelope him. He drank greedily, seeking to quench the all-consuming ache that threatened to ravage him. Her aroma, perfume, and the feel of her in his arm made him want more then he could ever have. He should put an end to this madness. Yet, he let it continue. Powerless to stop.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into his arms. Intoxicating all his senses. He knew then, he had never and would never kiss another woman like this again.

Ororo moaned as the wondrous sensations kept coursing through her body. All reasoning escaping her, she rubbed against him only wanting to prolong the delicious tremors at her pulse. Frantic to feel his harden muscles under her hands, she let her hands roam down his broad back to his buttocks and squeezed. A groan of surprised pleasure rumbled from his chest, as he grinded his aroused member against her heat. Sudden panic raced through her mind and she pulled away from him.

“God! What are we doing?”

Logan smirked. “I thought it was pretty obvious, but if you need…..”

“No!” she stepped away from him. “I don’t even know you.’

“Don’t you? That’s not what your eyes and body been saying since I got here.”

“You’re wrong. I’m going to bed. Good night Mr. Howlett!” she flounced away until the click of her sandals disappeared upstairs.
Logan let out a curse and ran his hand through his hair causing it to spike up. Suicidal, that’s what he was if he was actually thinking of getting involved with that spitfire! He needed to get some air and get his mind on business. He reached at the back of his waist and pulled out the semi automatic handgun. He checked the barrel, loaded and placed it back. All traces of passion gone to be replaced by a determined, cold glare. Time to meet his informanent.