I had almost drifted into sleep when I heard the distinct sound of a splash and opened my eyes. At first I saw nothing, and then he was there, gazing up at me from his pirogue and smiling widely. I recognized him immediately as Monsieur Tate, the owner of the biggest cannery in Houma. He was a man in his late twenties, married without children as yet. Daddy had worked for him on two occasions. He was a handsome man, slim, tall, with chatlin hair, which was what we Cajuns called blond mixed with brown. I had never seen him in anything but a jacket and tie.

Mr. Tate had been fishing and wore only a T-shirt and dungarees right now.

I gasped and pulled the towel out from beneath me to wrap myself in it. My heart throbbed in triple time as I held my breath. A nearly paralyzing numbness gripped me.

"You're about the prettiest creature I've ever seen in this swamp," he said. I felt my face fill with blood and my neck redden. I shrank into a tighter ball, but he simply gazed around. "Didn't think anyone else knew about this pond. I caught the biggest sac-au-lait here,"

"I didn't know anyone knew about this pond either," I said, nearly in tears.

"That's all right. No harm done. Skinny-dipping isn't bad. I haven't done it in a long while, but it sure looks inviting here."

I waited, expecting he would just turn around and pole his way out, but he stood there, smiling.

"Out, oui," he said, "it seems like a very good idea." He pulled his T-shirt over his head and began to unfasten his pants. I stared in disbelief. A few moments later, he was naked and unashamed of what I saw. He laughed and dove into the pond.

"Beautiful!" he cried. "Come on in."

"No, monsieur. I have to go home," I said.

"Oh, nonsense. Come on. I don't bite."

My blue heron, disturbed by Monsieur Tate's presence, swept down over the water and then over the trees and away, an omen I should have given more of my attention.

"No," I said, and began to inch my way toward the edge of the rock and my pirogue. He saw where I was going and what I wanted to do and swam to my canoe before I got to it. He unfastened it and started to swim back toward his own.

"Monsieur!" I cried. "What are you doing?" He laughed and tied my canoe to his.

"Now you have to swim," he said. "Come on. Dive in."

I shook my head. "Bring back my pirogue."

He behaved as if he couldn't hear me, swimming round the canoes and then to the rock. I backed away as he boosted himself up and onto it.

"It feels good to be in Nature, to be au naturel, n'est-ce pas, Gabrielle?"

"Please, monsieur," I said.

"Don't be frightened," he said, and squatted down beside me. Then he lay back on the rock, putting his hands behind his head the way I had had my own. My heart was pounding. Here he was a married man, sprawled naked next to me. "Oh, that feels so good," he said. "How long have you been coming here?"

I was sitting with my knees pulled up, the towel wrapped tightly around my shoulders. Could he not see how embarrassed I was? He behaved as though we were having a quiet conversation at a Sunday school picnic, but my abdomen felt like a hollowed-out cave.

"A long time," I said.

"Very good. I can see why. You found a little piece of paradise. It's a wonderful spot. I love to get away from the noise and bustle of my business, get away to a place like this where you can be with your own thoughts and commune with Nature. That's what you do, isn't it, Gabrielle? Everyone calls you La Fille au Nature. I see why now," he said, smiling. I continued to blush and looked away quickly.

"Please, monsieur."

"What's wrong? A beautiful girl like you must have been with a man before, no?"

"No, monsieur. Not like this."

"Really?" He turned on his side and reached out to touch my thigh. I nearly jumped off the rock. "It's all right. Nothing to be afraid of. It's just as natural as . . . as your fish and birds."

"But you are married, monsieur."

"Married," he said as if it were distasteful even to have the word in his mouth. "I married too quickly and for the wrong reasons," he added.

I glanced at him. Was no one happily wed? Was everyone fooled?

"What reasons?" I asked. He touched me again, tracing along my thigh with his finger as if he had his finger in beach sand.

"Money, wealth, power. Gladys's father owned the cannery."

"You weren't in love?"

He laughed and rolled over on his back.

"Love," he pronounced with his lips tight, as if saying it left a horrid taste on his tongue. "I said it and she said it, but neither of us believed it. We swallowed our lies like castor oil and said 'I do' in front of the priest. Even he had doubts when he pronounced us man and wife. I could see it in his eyes. Mon Dieu. Love. Is there really such a thing?"

"Yes," I said firmly.

"Your mother and father, are they truly in love?" he challenged with laughing eyes.

"They were," I replied. He stared at me for a moment and then he smiled.

"I could fall in love with someone like you in the blink of an eye."

"Monsieur Tate!"

"I'm not that old," he protested. "Yvette Livaudis, a girl in your class, is going to marry a man older than I am, right?" In the bayou everyone knew everyone else's business. I wasn't surprised he knew about Yvette. "You shouldn't think me too old."

"You're not old, monsieur," I granted.

"That's right. I'm not." He looked back at our canoes and then at me. "I'll swim back and get your canoe," he offered. "Thank you, monsieur."

"For a kiss," he added, smiling.

"No, monsieur!" I cringed.

"Why not? It's harmless enough. Just one kiss and you're free again." He sat up and leaned toward me. I turned away until I felt his lips on my shoulder and then my neck. I started to protest when he reached behind my head to pull my lips closer to his. Then he kissed me. I tried to pull away, but he held me firmly. I felt his tongue between my lips and then his hand move up the side of my body until the palm found my breast. I backed away quickly and he laughed.

"There, now wasn't that nice?"

I shook my head, clutching the towel against my bosom.

"To the canoe," he shouted, and dove off the rock. He swam quickly and got into mine. "Have no fear, damsel in distress, I'm coming to rescue you."

He began to pole my canoe toward the rock, behaving as if we were two children pretending. He brought the canoe back to the rock and stood there, holding out his hand.

"Come on. I'll help you in."

"I can get in myself. I've done it hundreds of times." When I spoke, I tried not to look at him standing there stark naked.

"I'm sure you have, mademoiselle, but we're surrounded by alligators."

"We are not," I said.

"You can't see them like I can. Come," he said, beckoning. I thought there was no other way to rid myself of him, so I gave him my hand and kept my eyes down. But when I stepped into the canoe, he embraced me and pressed his body to mine. We tottered as I struggled to be free.

"Whoa," he said. "We're going to fall in."

"Please, let me go," I pleaded. And then we did fall over and into the water. He shouted as we splashed under. When I came up, I no longer had my towel and he was already climbing back into my canoe.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Get out of my canoe."

"First I have to do the gentlemanly thing and help you to safety," he insisted. "Come along now." He reached out and seized my wrist. I climbed up and over the side of the canoe, and he sat back as I got in, this time pulling me over him and throwing his arms around my waist. His mouth was on mine again and then his lips moved quickly over my neck and down to my breasts, trailing his kisses with laughter. I tried to struggle out of his grip, but he was too strong and he turned me over so that I was now beneath him. Then he leaned back and smiled.

"Quite a temptation, you lying out here like this, waiting for a man like me."

"Please, monsieur. I was waiting for no one."

"No boyfriend about to arrive?" he asked with skeptical eyes.

"No, please."

"Come on now, you don't expect me to believe that a daughter of a man like Jack Landry wasn't waiting for some excitement. Why settle for a teenage boy? You have a man at your disposal," he insisted.