Exodus - Leon Uris [227]
Ari lowered the shoulder strap of her nightgown and caressed her breast.
With violent abruptness Kitty spun out of his grasp and staggered from the bed. “No,” she gasped.
Ari froze.
Kitty’s eyes filled with tears and she cringed against the wall, holding herself to stop the trembling. She sagged into a chair. Moments passed until the quaking within her abated and her breathing became normal. Ari stood over her and stared down.
“You must hate me,” she said at last.
He did not speak. She looked up at his towering figure and saw the hurt on his face.
“Go on, Ari ... say it. Say anything.”
He did not speak. Kitty stood up slowly and faced him. “I don’t want this, Ari. I don’t want to be made. I guess I was just overcome by the moonlight ...”
“I shouldn’t have thought I was making love to a reluctant virgin,” he said.
“Ari, please ...”
“I don’t have time to indulge in games and words. I am a grown man and you are a grown woman.”
“You state it so well.”
His voice was cold. “I will leave by the door if you don’t mind.”
Kitty winced with the sharp crack of the door closing. She stood for a long time by the french doors and looked out at the water. The Sea of Galilee was angry and the moon faded behind a sinister black cloud.
Kitty was numb. Why had she run from him? She had never felt so strongly for anyone and she had never lost control of herself like this. Her own recklessness had frightened her. She reasoned that Ari Ben Canaan did not really want her. Beyond a night of love he had no need of her, and no man had treated her this way before.
Then it came to her that she had been fleeing from this very feeling she had for him, this new desire for Ari which could lead her to stay in Palestine. She must never let it happen again. She was going to leave with Karen and nothing was going to stop her! She knew that she was afraid of Ari: Ari could defeat her. If he were to show the slightest signs of really caring she might not have the strength—but the thought of his steely coldness strengthened her determination to resist, leaving her reassured and yet, perversely, at the same time resentful.
Kitty threw herself onto the bed and fell into an exhausted sleep, with the wind from over the water beating against her window.
In the morning it was calm again.
Kitty threw back the covers and jumped from bed and all the events of the night before came to her. She blushed. They did not seem so terrible now but she was embarrassed. She had created a scene and there was no doubt Ari had thought it pretty melodramatic as well as childish. The whole thing had been her doing; she would set it right by making up with him, sensibly and forthrightly. She dressed quickly and went down to the dining room to await Ari. She thought of the words she would use to apologize.
Kitty sipped coffee and waited.
A half hour passed. Ari did not come down. She snuffed out her third cigarette and walked out to the front desk.
“Have you seen Mr. Ben Canaan this morning?” she asked the clerk.
“Mr. Ben Canaan checked out at six.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Mr. Ben Canaan never says where he is going.”
“Perhaps he left a message for me?”
The clerk turned around and pointed to the empty key box.
“I see ... well ... thank you very much.”
Chapter Eleven
DOV LANDAU FOUND A ROOM in a dilapidated fourth-rate hotel on the Street of the Chain in the Old City of Jerusalem. As instructed, he went to the Saladin Café on the Nablus Road near the Damascus Gate and left his name and hotel to be given to Bar Israel.
Dov pawned the gold rings and bracelets he had stolen from the faculty at Gan Dafna and turned to the job of studying Jerusalem. To the ghetto rat and past master of thievery Jerusalem was simple. Within three