Charles rose and took Malia's hand as the music of the Azee-bey wove its way inside them like an intoxicating drink. She placed his palms on her upper hips and left them there, letting her arms flow freely—like the two mythical serpents Fa and Be, who encircle the waters of Aeonia, protecting the island from the angry Gods of the Sea, Land, and Sky.
His large hands felt good on her as he assumed command. But she sensed detachment elsewhere—in his face, his eyes.
“Tell me something, Mr. Dunn," Malia said.
“Charles," he said.
“Charles." She backed away from him, feeling his hands slide off her swaying hips. She slowed her movements like an engine idling. “In your file, it says—
“My file? I have a file?"
She grinned. “Everyone has a file. Haven't you heard?"
He looked awed like mayb
