"No, but I've heard about them."

She leaned forward until her lips nearly touched his ear.

"It's all true," she said, and threw her head back to laugh. Martin laughed, too, and took a long gulp from Gisselle's drink, emptying the glass. "Gisselle, can you make us another drink?" she asked me in a voice that dripped with enough sweetness to make my stomach bubble.

It took all my self-control to battle back the urge to throw my own drink into her face and run into the house. But surely, this would end soon, I thought, and Gisselle would be satisfied she had had her little fun, all at my expense. I got up and started to make the drink the way she had instructed. Beau kept his eyes on me. I saw that Gisselle noticed how he was watching me, too.

"I just love that ring you gave my sister, Beau," Gisselle said. "Someday, I hope a handsome young man will think enough of me to give me a ring like that. I'd do just about anything for it," she added.

The bottle slipped out of my hand and hit the table, but didn't break. Beau jumped up.

"Here, let me help you," he said, quickly seizing the neck of the bottle before too much rum spilled.

"Oh, Gisselle, you shouldn't waste good rum like that," Gisselle cried, and laughed again. My hand was still trembling. Beau took it quickly into his and gazed into my eyes.

"You all right?" he asked. I nodded. "Let me finish making the drink," he said, and did so, handing it to Gisselle.

"Thank you, Beau," she said. He smirked at her, but said nothing. "I'm sorry I can't talk about myself, Martin," she said, turning back to him, "but I would love to hear about you."

"Sure," he said.

"Let's take a little walk," she suggested, and rose from the lounge. Martin looked at Beau who simply stared expressionless for a moment. Was he waiting to see how far Gisselle would go? Surely, he didn't believe she was me. Why wasn't he putting an end to it then?

She scooped her arm into Martin's and pulled him close to her, laughing at the same time. Then she fed him some of the rum and Coke like she was feeding a baby. He gulped and gulped, his Adam's apple bouncing with the effort until she pulled the glass from his lips and drank some herself.

"What strong arms you have, Martin," she said. "I thought only Cajun boys had arms like this." She flashed a smile back at me. "And Cajun girls," she added with a laugh. She turned him away and they walked deeper into the shadows, Gisselle's laughter louder and sillier.

"Well," Beau said, sitting on my lounge again. "Your sister has really made herself at home."

"Beau," I began, but he put his fingers on my lips.

"No, don't say anything. I know how hard this has all been for you, Gisselle." He leaned toward me.

"But . . ."

Before I could say anything, he pressed his lips to mine, softly at first and then harder as he wrapped his arm around me and brought me into the nook between his shoulder and chest. He pressed the palm of his other hand against the small of my back, lifting me slightly. His kiss and embrace took my breath away. When our lips parted, I gasped. He kissed the tip of my nose and then brought his cheek to mine and whispered.

"You're right," he said. "We shouldn't wait any longer. can't keep my hands off you. I've thought of nothing else but touching you and making love to you," he said, and slid the palm of his right hand over my hip and up the side of my body until he reached my breast. He pressed his body against me, driving me back on the lounge.

"Wait . . . Beau . . ."

His lips were over mine again, only this time, he performed the French kiss Gisselle had described. The feel of his tongue on mine sent a mixed chill of excitement and fear down my spine. I struggled, wiggling under him, finally pulling my head back enough to free my mouth from his.

"Stop," I gasped. "I'm not Gisselle. I'm Ruby. It was all a prank."

"What?"

I saw from the look in his eyes and the silly smile on his face that he had known. Pressing my hands against his chest, I pushed him away. He sat back, still pretending a look of amazement and shook.

"You're Ruby?"

"Stop it, Beau. You knew all the time. I know you did. I'm not the kind of girl Gisselle is making me out to be. You shouldn't have done that," I admonished. Chastised, he reddened and-fired back.

"You played along with the ruse, didn't you?"

"I know and I shouldn't have let her talk me into doing it, but I didn't think she would let it go this far."

Beau nodded, his body relaxing.

"That's my Gisselle . . . always plotting something outrageous. I should pretend to be fooled even more," he said. "It would teach her a lesson."

"What do you mean?" I looked off left and saw that Gisselle and Martin were out by the gazebo. Beau followed my gaze and we saw them kissing. His eyes narrowed and his chin tightened.

"Sometimes, she goes too far," he said, his voice now sounding angry. "Come on," he said, grabbing my hand and standing.

"Where?" I stood up.

"Into the cabana," he said. "It will teach her a lesson."

"But . . ."

"It's all right. We'll just talk. Let her think otherwise though. It will serve her right," he said and tugged me along. Then he opened the cabana door and pulled me into the small room, slamming the door behind us so Gisselle and Martin would be sure to hear it. There was a cot against the far wail but neither of us moved from the door. Without any light, it was hard to see anything after the door had been closed.

"This will get to her," Beau said. "We've been in here before and she knows why."

"This is going too far, Beau. She'll hate me," I said.

"She's not exactly being nice to you right now anyway," he replied.

Talking like this in the pitch darkness was both strange and easy, easy because without seeing him, without feeling his eyes on me, I could relax and say what I wanted. I thought that might be true for him, too.

"I'm sorry I got angry at you before," I said. "It really isn't any of your fault. I shouldn't have let her talk me into this."

"You were at a disadvantage. Gisselle loves to take advantage of people whenever she can. It doesn't surprise me. But from now on, don't be anyone but yourself. I haven't known you very long, Ruby, but I think you're a very nice girl who's been through some terrible things and has managed to keep her good nature. Don't let Gisselle ruin it," he warned. A moment later, I felt his hand on my cheek. His touch was soft, but I shuddered with surprise.

"Anyway, you kiss better," he whispered. My heart began to thump again. His hand was on my shoulder and then, I felt his breath on my face and sensed his lips moving closer and closer until they found mine. I didn't resist this time, and when his tongue touched mine, I let my own tongue run over the tip of his. He moaned and then, we heard pounding on the door and parted quickly.

"Beau Andreas, you get yourself out here this minute, you hear. This minute," Gisselle cried. Beau laughed.

"Who is it?" he called through the closed door.

"You know very well who I am," she cried. "Now get out here."

Beau opened the door and Gisselle stepped back. A confused Martin stood beside her. She had her arms folded and she wobbled a bit.

"What do you two think you're doing?" she demanded. "Ruby," he began, "your sister and I—"

"You know I'm not Ruby and she's not me. You know it, Beau Andreas."

"What?" he said, pretending shock and surprise. He looked at me and stepped back. "I could never have known. This is amazing."

"Just stop it, Beau. It was just a little joke. And you," she said, flicking her bloodshot eyes over me. "You played along real well for someone who said she was scared it wouldn't work."

"What is this?" Martin finally said. "Who's who?"

The three of us turned to him. Beau and Gisselle burst into laughter first and then, feeling lighthearted from the rum and Beau's kisses, I couldn't help but laugh myself.

Gisselle explained the prank to Martin and the four of us began again, this time Martin sitting next to me. Gisselle kept pouring the rum into the Cokes, drinking one almost as quickly as she made it. I drank only a little more, but my head was spinning anyway. Afterward, Gisselle pulled Beau into the cabana, gazing back at me with satisfaction as she closed the door behind them.

I sat back on the lounge, unable to clear my mind of Beau's warm touch and Beau's warm kiss. Was it the effect of the rum that filled me with such warmth?

Martin suddenly embraced me and kissed me and tried to go further, but I pushed him away firmly.

"Hey," he said, his eyes half closed, "what's wrong? I thought we were having fun."

"Despite what you might have heard or believed about girls who come from the bayou, Martin, I'm not like that. I'm sorry," I said.

The rum had definitely gotten to him and he mumbled some apology before falling back on the lounge. Moments later, he was asleep. I waited beside him, but we didn't have to wait long. Suddenly, Beau and Gisselle emerged from the cabana. She was crying about her stomach and heaving so hard, I thought she threw up her lunch as well as her supper. Martin woke up and he and I stood back and watched. She realized what was happening and sobbed with embarrassment.

"I'll take care of her," I told Beau. "You'd better leave."

"Thanks," he said. "This isn't the first time she's done this," he added, and whispered good night after he first whispered, "Yours was the kiss I'll remember tonight."

I was speechless for a moment, watching them walk off, and then Gisselle wailed.

"Oh, I'm going to die!"