Bird of Paradise (12 page)

She was paradise, she was heat, she was desire. He
kissed her deeply, stroking his tongue against hers, and almost
lost control when she returned the caress. He pulled back enough so
he could see into her eyes. They were dreamy and filled with
passion.

“Oh, Adam,” she sighed, then grabbed his head and
pulled him down over herself. Adam fought his desire for a
nanosecond, then gave in, doing what he wanted to do the first time
he saw her, holding her head at the optimum angle, and diving into
her mouth as if he was searching for buried treasure. He growled
into her mouth when she arched her body up against his, her breasts
rubbing a heated friction against him, her skin warm and soft and
infinitely inviting. He released the silken curls and slid his
hands down, over the loose cotton jacket she wore over her dress,
sliding it off her bare shoulders, stroking his hands down the
satin of her arms.

She kindled a fire deep within him, burning brighter
and brighter with each moment that he drank in her scent, touched
the lush curves of her breasts that surely had to be created just
for his hands, and tasted the rapture found when their mouths met.
The sound of approaching voices sent a signal through the haze of
desire and need and something much warmer that he didn't want to
look too closely at. They were in a public place. He could not
continue out here, in the open.

His lips parted reluctantly from hers as he rose
back on an elbow, her fingers still entwined in his hair. The soft
cotton of her dress molded to the contours of her body, driving
from his mind any consideration about privacy or the need to stop.
He traced a finger up the curve of her shoulder, over to her
breastbone, then down to the fragrant valley between her breasts.
She stared back at him with heated eyes, her breath just as ragged
and unsteady as his, her breasts heaving beneath the heat of his
hand.

“Let me see you,” he said, his voice thick with
wanting. He pushed the light dress jacket from her completely, his
hands moving quickly to the buttons on the sleeveless dress she
wore underneath. “Dear God, you're beautiful. So beautiful. So
sexy.”

“No,” she whispered, struggling to recapture the
soft cotton jacket, tugging it back up her arms.

“What's wrong?” he asked, pausing with his hand on a
button. A finger's breadth away the heavy curve of her breast lay
beckoning him.

“I don't…I don't want you to…”

Pain cut through him. He withdrew his hand. “You
don't want me to touch you?”

“No,” she moaned, her eyes brilliant with unshed
tears. “It's not that, I don't want you to…”

“What?” he asked, almost desperate. “Kiss you? Touch
your breasts? Make love to you?”

“See me!” she shouted, pushing hard on his chest,
shoving him away so she could sit up and right her clothing.

What the hell?

“You don't want me to see what?” He looked around.
“You don't want anyone to see us out here? I agree completely, and
I apologize for starting it here, but I had no idea…well, I had no
idea it would go this far. We can go inside to your cabana, if it
will make you feel better.”

“No,” she said, buttoning up her dress and wiping at
a tear that snaked down her cheek. “Not my cabana.”

“Mine, then,” he said, wincing at the note of
desperation in his voice.

“No, you don't understand,” she argued, not looking
at him as she got to her feet, then bent to put on her sandals. “We
can't do this.”

He stood. “I had assumed because you were here that
you had no impediments to a relationship. If that's so, it must be
me that doesn't appeal to you. I guess I have my answer to the
Brittany question.”

“Oh, no,” she said, turning to him, her face an
agony of indecision and guilt and something that looked very much
like desire. “It's not you. You are…your girlfriend was wrong, dead
wrong. That kiss was—indescribable. Wonderful. Marvelous.
Rhapsody.”

Well, now he really was confused. He took her hand
and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I thought it was pretty
damn good, myself. If it's not me, and you don't have someone else,
then what exactly is the problem?”

Her silver-eyed gaze dropped as she pulled her hand
from his. “I have to go now. Thank you for…thank you.”

She turned and almost ran back to the door that let
from the tiny patio to her cabana.

“Wait, Hero!” Adam started to follow her. Something
was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. If he could just get
her to tell him, he could deal with whatever it was. “Why can't
you—”

She whirled around at her door. “Oh, you stupid man,
don't you understand? It's me, not you. Look at me!” She waved her
hand in the direction of her torso. “I'm not pretty or tan or trim
or any of the things those other women are.”

He stopped, stunned at her words. She didn't think
she was pretty? She was beautiful! She was a goddess personified!
She was perfect!

“I'm not beautiful, and I'm not sexy, and I don't
want you looking at me. There. Are you happy now? I hope so,
because I don't think I can go over this explanation again. Thank
you for the kiss, it was very nice. Good night.” She opened her
door and stepped through it.

“Hero, just wait a min—”

The door slammed behind her.

“—
ute.”

A lock clicked into place. He stood there for long
minutes staring at her door, bewildered, confused, completely at a
loss as to what to do to make her realize he didn't see her as
anything but desirable and captivating.

He was in completely over his head, and hadn't the
slightest idea what it was going to take to come to the
surface.

“You're being unreasonable.”

“Shhh!”

“I am not.”

“SHHH!”

Hero's voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper.
“I simply do not wish to continue this discussion. Now may we watch
the movie?”

Adam leaned close to her, his mouth next to her ear.
Hero fought back a shudder of complete delight at his nearness.
“Why won't you believe me when I tell you that I think you're
beautiful?”

Hero smiled through gritted teeth as one of the
cameramen turned to look at them. They were sitting in the back row
of the theatre, a room equipped with rows of comfortable seats and
a large wall-sized plasma-screen television, and she would be
damned if she lost out points on her first official date simply
because Adam insisted on driving her mad. As if the guilt riddling
her because he thought her honest wasn't enough to do the job.
That, or war between the need she felt to believe he truly admired
her and the realization that he was just sweet-talking her to keep
from revealing his secrets. Didn't he realize that she was nearly
driven to insanity by the torture of having to sit next to him like
this? The island paradise promised in the Eden promotional material
felt more like purgatory to her.

“I'm not beautiful,” she murmured under her breath,
her eyes on the cameramen in the room rather than the movie. “You
don't have to say I am, it's not part of our agreement. You don't
have to worry; I've already said I won't give you away.”

“That's
not
why I'm saying it,” he said, a
disgruntled look on his face. She smiled wildly as a cameraman
headed their way.

“Smile,” she hissed. “We're supposed to be
compatible, remember?”

He draped his arm over her shoulders. “We're going
to have this out later, you and I,” he promised softly in her ear.
She shivered at the feeling of his breath brushing her flesh, but
said nothing. What was there to say? She had made her bed, now she
had to lie in it. Alone.

“That wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to
be,” Adam said later, as the movie ended. As it was a ladies'
choice day, the women selected the men they wished to participate
on that day's dates, both geared to please the female palate. Hero
was obliged to pick Adam as her first date despite wishing she'd
never thought up the grand idea of blackmailing him into helping
her. “Then again, I never have minded chick flicks that much. Most
of them are pretty good. Sorry Jesus ate your popcorn.”

She strolled out of the theatre with the other
people, intending on ducking behind a group to avoid speaking to
him anymore, but he had other ideas. He tugged her behind a cluster
of palms and pinned her back with a steely blue-eyed look. Jesus
and his attendant gecko took advantage of the break to investigate
the shrubberies.

“Come on, out with it.”

“Out with what?”'

“Whatever it is that you're holding in.”

She frowned at him and crossed her arms over her
chest. “What makes you think I'm holding something in?”

“You won't talk to me, you wouldn't let me neck with
you during the movie, and for some reason, you take offense when I
tell you that you're beautiful.”

She shivered when he ran his thumb along her lower
lip, and jerked her head away. “I don't have time to discuss the
cruelty of pretending you enjoy someone's company for your own
gain. Nor do I have time to explain the arrogance inherent in men
that drives them into thinking that all women are putty in their
hands with just a kiss or two. Be thankful I don't, because if I
did have time, I would inform you in no uncertain terms that I
found your ridiculous claims both hurtful and derogatory.”

“What ridiculous claims?” he asked, a frown pulling
those two lovely eyebrows together.

“You should know, you were the one making them last
night.”

He stared at her for a minute. “Are you talking
about the fact that I wanted to make love to you, or that I find
you a sexy, intelligent woman who I'd like to know better? A lot
better?”

She stiffened. “I have to go. My next date is in
fifteen minutes.”

He glanced at his watch. “Fine. You can spend five
minutes talking to me.”

“I don't wish to talk with you. Surely that is
clear?”

“What's clear is that you have the erroneous idea
that you're not attractive.”

She waffled between the desire to grind her teeth in
anger, and the urge to cry. The anger won out. “Why are you doing
this to me?”

“What?” He stepped back, surprised at her
outburst.

“
Why won't you be honest with
me?”

“I have been honest with you.”

“You have not. You say
those…those…
nice
things, but you don't really mean them, not in the sense you
want me to think you do.”

He looked genuinely surprised. Obviously he did not
realize she knew the truth behind his motivation. “Hero, what are
you talking about?”

“I don't need your pity!” she
yelled, shoving hard on his chest to push him back a couple of
steps. “I'm not so bloody pathetic that I need your pity kisses and
your pretended interest and nice words meant to make me feel like
I'm something I'm not. You might think that you're the only man
who's ever felt sorry for me, but you're not. I'm an expert
concerning men who deign to notice me, and I can tell you right now
that I'm not grateful for your attention
or
your kisses, so you can bloody
well bugger off and go annoy some other woman!”

“Is that what you think I'm doing?” Adam asked, his
voice a low growl, his eyes blazing with emotion. He took a step
closer to her, no doubt to try to intimidate her. “You think I'm
just hitting on you to make myself feel better, is that it? You
think I'm so shallow that I'm incapable of looking beyond the
surface for something more meaningful? Or do you think I'm just
interested in meaningless sex with any woman who'll spread her legs
for me?”

Hero raised her chin and glared at him, tears of
fury pooling in her eyes.

“You paint a nice picture of me, Hero.” His breath
was warm on her face, his eyes hot enough to burn holes through her
heart. “Is that what you really think?”

She thought her heart would crumble under the
influence of the pain in his eyes, but she had no choice. It was
him or her, and she didn't think she could survive seeing pity in
his eyes when he looked at her.

“I don't want to see you again,” she said, her
throat aching with unshed tears. “Our agreement is cancelled.
Please do not accost me again.”

“So I am to be tried and convicted without a
hearing? Your faith in me is overwhelming, but then, I guess that's
what I can expect from a woman who has to blackmail a man into
dating her.”

Hero turned away, her eyes closed
against the pain of his words, pain she knew she deserved. She was
the one who had lied to him; he had been honest, completely honest
with her. Or had he? That was the worst of having a mind that had
snapped, she could no longer tell what was the truth and what was
not.
Truth
, her
inner voice whispered—
like whether she was
pushing Adam away because he pitied her, or if her guilt was the
real culprit.

Without another word to her, Adam rounded up Jesus
and walked away. She watched him leave, tears rolling down her
cheeks, a sob caught in her throat. He was right. What sort of
woman had she become that she would not even give him a chance to
defend himself?

“I
am
pathetic,” she whispered to
herself as she dug through her purse for tissues to wipe the tears
from her wet cheeks. “And I have just ruined my life, and my heart
is destroyed, and I'll never be able to face Adam, and now I have
to appear happy for a millions of viewers when I go on dates with
other men who don't even come close to being as wonderful as the
man I just drove off, and damn it all, I'm out of
tissues!”

Down the far length of the pathway the tall figure
of Simon, her date for the trip out to the bird sanctuary, appeared
and waved at her. A cameraman stood next to him.