Page 71 of Hot & Heavy

"Another thing. Ian tells me that you know everything about everything, and—"

"He was being sarcastic."

"Hmmmm. I do not think so. In any case, I need to find a way home to Norstead. Would you be able to help me?"

"You mean, a map."

"Yea, a map would be good."

"Probably. Next time I come I'll bring my laptop and we can check it out on the Internet. Or else we can use Ian's computer."

Madrene did not understand all his words, but it appeared that this young man had agreed to help her find her way home, in addition to teaching her to read and write. "Thank you, thank you." She got up and hugged him.

Ian walked in to get a beer, saw the hug and walked back out. She thought she heard him say a well-known, one-word Saxon expletive.

Geek arched his eyebrows at her in a knowing manner.

Sly, the tall black man, regaled her with stories of his homeland, Man-hat-and, also called the Big Apple, which was odd since he'd told her, upon questioning, that there were no apple trees there. She could hardly fathom his claim that there was a building more than a hundred stories high; a story was one level of a building, floor to ceiling. No doubt he was teasing her, as all the seals were wont to do.

She was laughing at his description of the way people traveled there on underground vehicles when Ian came in again. He looked at her, frowned, then banged some utensils at the stove as he added the thin sticks of spaghetti to the water. "Don't let me interrupt anything," he said. The words should have been polite, but they came out like a criticism.

"Why would he criticize us for laughing together?" Madrene asked Sly after Ian stomped out of the room again.

"He's jealous," he said.

"Impossible," she replied. "He does not care about me."

Sly winked at her and left.

Cage, the mischievous one, came next. He didn't even bother to taste the sauce. Instead, he turned up his nose and said, "If it ain't gumbo, it ain't worth fixin'." He put a little black box on the table in front of her.

"You ever heard Cajun music, sugar?"

She shook her head slowly from side to side.

"You're in for a treat." He pressed a red thing on the black box, and loud, raucous music came forth.

She jumped out of her seat and backed away. "What is it? Is there a person in there playing an instrument?"

"Oh, chère," he said with a grin, "you have so much to learn. That, darlin', is Cajun music, the best in the world."

"Well, it certainly is loud."

"That's a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one." He told her a fascinating story about his people—

the Acadians, who were driven out of France and then Canada. Finally, many of them settled in Lewis-i-anna. Apparently, there were swamps in this region which abounded with fierce animals called ally-gate-ors. But the strong Cajun people survived there, eating the animals the city dwellers disdained, turning them into spicy dishes. And they were a happy people, as evidenced by their lively music. "Plus,"

Cage added at the last, "Cajun men are known to be great lovers."

At first she did not realize that he was teasing her. When understanding came, she told him, " 'Tis the same thing men of my country claim. Methinks men have an overblown opinion of their prowess in the bedsport. Except for my father, of course. He bred thirteen children on different women and could lay claim to being particularly virile. Is that not outrageous?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Of course it is. And believe you me, I told him so on many an occasion. Some people say that I am a shrew, but I prefer to say I am a strong-minded woman. What say you?"

Cage blinked at her several times, as if she'd stunned him with her words. He was not the first man to do so. Then he smiled at her. "All I can say, Maddie, is that you are a very interesting woman."

"I will take that as a compliment." Even though it probably was not meant as such.

"Would you like to dance?" Cage held his arms open for her.

"I cannot imagine dancing to that music."