Some time ago, I was invited by a dear friend of mine, the prince M. of very old Roman descent. He owns a magnificent Renaissance villa with an extensive park, a few kilometres away from Rome, on the Roman hills.
A lot of guests, several kinds of vips, an international milieu.
I was introduced to mrs. L., a wealthy American from New York. Her husband is the owner of a large industrial concern. Many million dollars, according to “Fortune”.
She was very beautiful, very young, eager to be courted.
She tried to impress that on me in a thousand ways, she even told me that, candidly, sipping a vintage Veuve Cliquot.
I took her by hand, I escorted her into the park, we sat under a glorious Mediterranean pine.
There was an unexplored ocean of stars up in the sky. The moon looked happy.
With a rapid gesture I pointed at the park, at the sky, at the stars, at the velvet-like darkness of the night.
- The background is perfect – I whispered to her.
- Oh, it’s grand! – she said, gripping my hand – We, American women, certainly love all these things, my dear.
- But you do all you can to destroy them – I retorted – You, American women, are to eager to dominate. Well, you are something like .....a praying mantis.
She looked at me quite puzzled.
- You are queen bees.....- I added.
She started laughing. Now she got my whimsical hints.
- Aren’t you trying to say, my dear, that we, American women, have gone so far as to make men our slaves, as to wilfully understimate their masculine privileges?
- Well, yes, in a certain way. You have upset the traditional relationship between man and woman, to your sole advantage. That’s a real achievement for you, American women, I’m sure. But you took the wrong direction.....
- Why ? – she inquired, fixing her eyes on me. I noticed that the make-up of her eyes was impalpable, perfect.
- Because, by acting this way, you dishearten your partners. You have shaken out the old taboos, but you have failed to find new ones for your men. Can’t you see how depressed, passive, frustrated they
are ?
She looked at me with an adorable expression of defiance.
- You men just got what you deserved after centuries of absolte power.
Then she smiled.
- Of course, the myth of the American woman is a little bit uncomfortable, if not dangerous, for you, Latin males. Isn’t that so ?
I nodded. She was quite right, unfortunately.
It was getting late. I plucked a yellow rose and placed it amid her raven hair.
The esthetic result was very pleasant. I found her adorable in that night full of mysterious spring perfumes.
She thanked me with a breath-taking smile. Maybe she mentally uttered the magic word, “cheese”.
- You, Latins, cannot be excelled in these little, adorable things. What’s your secret ?
- My dear lady – I answered , smilng – we still hold the sceptre of power. We want to win our women, we don’t let them...win us.
She held my hand firmly and sighed:
- What a macho !
Then she added:
- What a lovely night !
Enchanted Desire, published by The Wild Rose Press, tells the story of a beautiful young college student, Shanna, who is looking for a fresh start and a way out of a bad relationship. She meets and falls in love with Kenny, a sexy 6 foot 8 Native Ame
