Delgano: A Dark Contemporary Interracial Romance

“Even nicer,” he said.

The sofa and loveseat didn’t match, but they complemented one another. She’d covered the tile floor with layered area rugs, and books lined the walls on shelves made from rough-carved pieces of tree bark.

“I painted the walls.” She pointed to the light green shade covering every surface. “Ahmed and Qasim helped a little. Let’s drop those off in the kitchen, and then I’ll give you a tour.”

They entered the kitchen and found it occupied by two long-limbed boys with short, curly hair, their complexions slightly darker than Sayeda’s. One was taller than the other, though not by much, and they munched on figs they initially tried to hide when they spotted her.

She smoothed the curls of the taller of the two. “This is Qasim. He’s twelve. And this one,” she stroked the smaller one’s chin, “is Ahmed. He’s ten. Ahmed and Qasim, this is Mr. Delgano.”

Both boys’ eyes rounded.

Then Ahmed asked her a question.

“Let’s speak English so you can practice and so Mr. Delgano can understand,” she said. “And yes, this is the same Mr. Delgano who is my boss.”

Adrían barely contained a laugh.

“Where’s Mrs. Kashif?” she asked.

Qasim flicked a thumb at the kitchen opening. “Sleeping. On your bed. Again. She said she would be up before you came home, but she’s still there.”

“Will you wake her and tell her I’m here now?”

Qasim nodded and bolted from the kitchen.

“And you…” She bent, placing her face close to Ahmed’s. “What shall I do with you?”

“Can Mr. Delgano come with me to catch lizards?” Ahmed asked.

“Mr. Delgano doesn’t want to catch lizards.”

“On the contrary,” Adrían said, hand raised. “It’s been a while since I’ve done it, but I used to be something of a champion lizard hunter.”

She eyed him. “You must be able to tell that I don’t believe you.”

“Whether you believe me or not doesn’t make it untrue.”

“And you’re okay with us doing the tour later? I can start dinner while you…catch lizards.”

Before he could answer, Ahmed grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the kitchen.

The “tour” was a blur of Qasim and Ahmed’s room, which looked like an earthquake had passed through earlier that day. Ahmed flicked a hand at Sayeda’s room, which he did want to see, but Ahmed pulled him away after a single glimpse.

A person’s room told stories, and there was a lot more that he wanted to learn about her. However, wanting to see where she slept would only facilitate his fantasies of her naked with her limbs wrapped around him while they made love like a pair of joined hands.

Thoughts along those lines did make him wonder which version of hell he would be relegated to, hers or the one he used to believe in. Then again, at this point, a few “nude Sayeda” thoughts weren’t exactly what had purchased his ticket to damnation.

“And this is where the lizards are,” Ahmed announced, releasing his wrist once they were a few yards behind the house.

He spotted something wiggling in the dirt and crouched. “Do you know what they call these where I’m from?” he asked. “Lagartixa.”

Ahmed tried the pronunciation.

“Very good. Does Sayeda teach you English?”

“Sa-ye-da,” Ahmed said, the same way he’d practiced the Portuguese word for lizard. “Sayeda teaches us some, and we have been learning from Mrs. Kashif. She used to live in England.”

When Qasim walked her from the house, he caught a glimpse of Mrs. Kashif, a woman who looked much younger than he’d expected. Based on what Sayeda had shared so far, he wondered if Mrs. Kashif was also part of the rescue operation and how long the boys had been in their care.