I dug my toes into the sand, letting the warm, tropical water of the ocean lap at my ankles as I closed my eyes and turned my chin upwards. The hot, wet air of the jungle beat against my naked back, and the cool salty breeze of the open sea knotted my hair as it stroked my upturned cheeks.
Here on the shore, I could almost see what they meant when they spoke of nature's inherent spirituality- I could feel the openness of the great beyond ahead of me and the heady thrum of life behind me. I could feel the air get denser as a pair of eyes watched me from the darkness; my shoulder prickled and it ran down my spine, my legs and deep, deep into the sand.
My toes dug deeper, past the sun-scorched layer of earth and deep into the cool, wet, solidness beneath.
The breeze blew again, from behind me this time, and I almost felt myself soar up to the sky with it.
It touched my shoulders- exposed as they were, and ran down my arms before warm, solid, calloused palms pressed against the tops of my hands, fingers curling between mine so that gentle fingertips just barely touched my palms.
My eyes still closed, I smiled as my hands were lifted up in front of me, so that the jungle spirit behind me could inspect them as he wished. A long chin brushed against my shoulder to settle itself against my collarbone and rough, straw-like hair scratched at my ear as he pressed himself against me, curling around me like a cloak.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and heaved a gentle sigh as I inspected the calm endlessness ahead of us- it seemed unfathomable that across the water, just a few weeks away, lay the white cliffs of Dover, and the Thames Estuary- brown, muddy and so gloriously familiar.
London didn't seem quite real to me anymore. How had I lived in a townhouse in Kensington? How had we kept servants and not even dressed ourselves, so assured were we in our place of privilege. Father with his study, with his Butler- George, and me with endless society commitments to pass my time.
How had I sat in the drawing room, sketching the taxidermy around me and languishing with books on plush silk upholstery, so superior as I studied the natural world from within my four walls.
Just three months ago I was being prepared for my daring adventure by my Ladies Maid, safe in the knowledge that we would return soon- excited to have the opportunity but not fully comprehending where it would lead me.
I certainly would not have expected to find myself in nothing but my slip, standing on a beach with a wild man pressed so intimately against me. What would the ladies at finishing school think?
He turned my hands gently this way and that, with his heart beating against my back the only sound he made. With a smile, I leaned my head back against his shoulder, to look up at the sky, and he made a happy little hum in the base of his throat, nuzzling his nose against the edge of my jaw.
I hadn't really thought this through very well at all, to be completely honest. It hadn't dawned on me what staying in the jungle with Tarzan meant. He had grown up with gorillas, and was very physical in the ways he showed his affection to both me and Daddy- always stroking our arms, backs and hair in wonder, and nuzzling as he sniffed in our decidedly human smells. I had let myself get carried away in the romance of it all.
Really, Jane Porter. You spend one month in the Jungle and you just allow yourself to get dazzled by the freedom of it all. Cavorting with naked men up in the trees indeed.
He probably didn't even comprehend what my staying meant. I was, quite literally, the only compatible female of his kind that he'd even laid eyes on, so of course he'd be... taken with me. I'd let my girlish heart get distracted by intense, studious eyes and the natural joy of his not being so isolated anymore.
Lead male gorillas have mating rights within the family, and it was that simple in the jungle. There was not necessarily any sentiment attached to it, and certainly not monogamy. Tarzan had never... had the opportunity to mate himself, knowing that he wasn't a true gorilla, but I couldn't be sure he viewed it the same way I would.
Because I couldn't do anything of the sort out of wedlock, but then again I couldn't exactly force Tarzan into marriage when he didn't even understand the concept.
This was what my mind was tormenting me with, constantly, through my waking hours and my dreams. Then he would look at me with such wonder that I could fool myself into believing that he knew exactly what he meant to me, and that it was mirrored in him. But then the slightest mention of something unfamiliar would slip from me or Daddy, and he would become a child again, kneeling at my feet with such a thirst for knowledge that I couldn't bear it. When he couldn't wrap his head around the concept of traditional courting, I'd almost heard my heart break.
"Why... so much time deciding?" He'd asked, face screwed up in thought. "Why not just mate?"
I'd put all my eggs into a tissue paper basket, and it could break any moment, leave me lost and alone in a jungle with no choice but to... what?
"Jane." Tarzan hummed into my neck. "Jane is thinking."
"Yes, Tarzan." I pulled my smile back on. "I am."
He turned me around gently to face him, and hunched over so that his eyes were level with mine. I inhaled sharply as those eyes- those eyes! -met mine. He was struggling for the words, I could see it, and I didn't know what he wanted to say, so we stared at each other in silence.
"Not right." He mumbled, eyebrows pulled down in frustration. "Jane."
"It's fine, Tarzan." I nodded my head reassuringly, and cupped his cheek with one hand, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead to smooth out the creases. "Take your time."
As I pulled back a little, he caught my chin and pulled me down to kiss him on the lips, like that time on the beach only a few days ago. He held me there and I melted against him, placing both my hands on his shoulders as I allowed myself to get just a little bit lost in the moment, here on the shore between the jungle and the sea.
He released me, and I reluctantly allowed him to step back, catching my hands in his. He looked down at me, very seriously, and lifted my hands to his lips.
"Jane doesn't trust Tarzan." He said finally, mournfully, against my knuckles. Eyes closed, he ran his thumbs across mine softly, so softly, and settled down on his haunches, pulling me gently with him.
I almost laughed. "Don't be silly, Tarzan- of course I do."
"No." He frowned. "Not..." His mouth twisted as he thought about what he was trying to say, and I waited. Patience, patience, Porter. He'll find the words. "Jane is special."
It wasn't so much what he said, but the intensity of his eyes that threw me for a moment. I snapped my mouth shut and pulled my hands from his, running them up his arms and pulling him into a single, long hug.
Maybe that was it, and I just had to trust him after all.