Topaz - Leon Uris [44]
Both W. Smith and Kramer displayed detailed knowledge of Russia as they led him through his secondary education. At the end of the fourth hour he looked hopefully to Michael Nordstrom. His nurse quickly picked up the signal and indicated that that would be enough for the day.
20
SEVERAL MONTHS BEFORE THE Bay of Pigs there came that moment in Juanita de Córdoba’s villa that seemed a natural extension of the relationship between herself and André.
Juanita was having a sinking spell, depressed over the departure of her sons for schooling in Switzerland.
André was in a funk of his own. The first attack of narcolepsy had been followed by a severe round of arguments with Nicole. He was terribly down when he arrived in Havana.
Juanita de Córdoba was a striking woman, able to carry off severe hairdos, exotic colors, and large jewelry that gave her a look of total Latin femininity.
They sat quietly that night for a long while on the terrace watching the sun put on its closing display. It was an old place to them. They had sat there many times when Héctor was alive and later, when André cultured and tutored the espionage ring. Shadows came, and with them Juanita’s sudden tears.
André put his arms about her to offer comfort, but beyond his motivation of compassion he was stirred by the touching, the silk, the scent, and the woman’s softness.
He held her off at arm’s length and stared at her, puzzled. “Juanita.”
She nodded “yes,” that she felt the same thing. It was simple and so very natural.
André, who was a sophisticated and traveled man of many nights, had known the enchanted routes of Europe and Latin America and North Africa. It would not seem likely that he would be so moved by just another affair. Yet he loved Juanita de Córdoba in a way that he was neither able nor desirous to discount. With Juanita he had broken his own rule that dictated he could not become emotionally involved with any woman. But even after the pain of the first parting he was unable to bring himself to cut it off.
Cubans are sensual children. When it was apparent that the Little Dove’s mourning period had come to an end, it was looked upon by outsiders as permissible for her to take a lover discreetly.
Along with André Devereaux’s worldliness, there was a strong vein of male vanity. She accepted the ground rules that she was to make no demands, keep her scenes reasonably quiet for a Cuban, and always anticipate an end to the affair and accept it gracefully.
Theirs was to become an affair of silent understanding without eternal pledges and devoid of an examination of its depth and meaning.
As convenient as the arrangement was for André, he somehow did not find it acceptable. Secretly, he admitted to himself he wanted to reach her deeply, have her think of him as he thought of her, wrest from her a kind of love that would leave her lonely and wanting him when he was gone.
There was a rude awakening when she took up company with the Venezuelan tycoon, Fernando Iglesias, and on occasion served as hostess aboard his fabled yacht during its legendary cruise parties about the Caribbean.
There was another man often linked to Juanita. Manganaro, an Italian manufacturer who frequented Cuba. When his fabrication plant there was nationalized he opened a new one in Jamaica where she visited him.
André Devereaux’s pride told him that he was the only man who really counted in her life. Yet he could not hide the hurt with his own common sense when he learned of the others.
He rationalized. Juanita was a needing feline creature. Perhaps she would be faithful if he could spell out his love. But with him out of Cuba most of the time, it was unrealistic for her to sit and wait for his ship to come in.
First, came the mission.
And so long as she was there for him alone when he was in Cuba and so long as she gave him the continued tenderness he could expect no more.
There was the terrible experience