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She scooped her arm into Martin's and pulled him close to her, laughing at the same time. Then she fed him some of the rum and Coke like she was feeding a baby. He gulped and gulped, his Adam's apple bouncing with the effort until she pulled the glass from his lips and drank some herself.

"What strong arms you have, Martin," she said. "I thought only Cajun boys had arms like this." She flashed a smile back at me. "And Cajun girls," she added with a laugh. She turned him away and they walked deeper into the shadows, Gisselle's laughter louder and sillier.

"Well," Beau said, sitting on my lounge again. "Your sister has really made herself at home."

"Beau," I began, but he put his fingers on my lips.

"No, don't say anything. I know how hard this has all been for you, Gisselle." He leaned toward me.

"But . . ."

Before I could say anything, he pressed his lips to mine, softly at first and then harder as he wrapped his arm around me and brought me into the nook between his shoulder and chest. He pressed the palm of his other hand against the small of my back, lifting me slightly. His kiss and embrace took my breath away. When our lips parted, I gasped. He kissed the tip of my nose and then brought his cheek to mine and whispered.

"You're right," he said. "We shouldn't wait any longer. can't keep my hands off you. I've thought of nothing else but touching you and making love to you," he said, and slid the palm of his right hand over my hip and up the side of my body until he reached my breast. He pressed his body against me, driving me back on the lounge.

"Wait . . . Beau . . ."

His lips were over mine again, only this time, he performed the French kiss Gisselle had described. The feel of his tongue on mine sent a mixed chill of excitement and fear down my spine. I struggled, wiggling under him, finally pulling my head back enough to free my mouth from his.

"Stop," I gasped. "I'm not Gisselle. I'm Ruby. It was all a prank."

"What?"

I saw from the look in his eyes and the silly smile on his face that he had known. Pressing my hands against his chest, I pushed him away. He sat back, still pretending a look of amazement and shook.

"You're Ruby?"

"Stop it, Beau. You knew all the time. I know you did. I'm not the kind of girl Gisselle is making me out to be. You shouldn't have done that," I

admonished. Chastised, he reddened and-fired back.

"You played along with the ruse, didn't you?"

"I know and I shouldn't have let her talk me into doing it, but I didn't think she would let it go this far."

Beau nodded, his body relaxing.

"That's my Gisselle . . . always plotting something outrageous. I should pretend to be fooled even more," he said. "It would teach her a lesson."

"What do you mean?" I looked off left and saw that Gisselle and Martin were out by the gazebo. Beau followed my gaze and we saw them kissing. His eyes narrowed and his chin tightened.

"Sometimes, she goes too far," he said, his voice now sounding angry. "Come on," he said, grabbing my hand and standing.

"Where?" I stood up.

"Into the cabana," he said. "It will teach her a lesson."

"But . . ."

"It's all right. We'll just talk. Let her think otherwise though. It will serve her right," he said and tugged me along. Then he opened the cabana door and pulled me into the small room, slamming the door behind us so Gisselle and Martin would be sure to hear it. There was a cot against the far wail but neither of us moved from the door. Without any light, it was hard to see anything after the door had been closed.

"This will get to her," Beau said. "We've been in here before and she knows why."

"This is going too far, Beau. She'll hate me," I said.

"She's not exactly being nice to you right now anyway," he replied.

Talking like this in the pitch darkness was both strange and easy, easy because without seeing him, without feeling his eyes on me, I could relax and say what I wanted. I thought that might be true for him, too.