Bird of Paradise (8 page)

“You lifted me down,” she said in breathy
astonishment, her eyes wide with shock, her hands on his where they
held her waist firmly.

“Yes,” he agreed, unwilling to let her go. She was
warm and soft beneath his fingers, and he had the most overwhelming
urge to let his fingers skim upwards, to feel the heat of her
breasts against his palms.

“You're holding me.” Her eyes grew dark with
emotion, but what emotion was it? Did he offend her, did she think
he was a sex maniac, or was she feeling the same wild stir of
attraction that was washing through him?

“I am.”

“Close,” she pointed out.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

A minute passed with the two of them just standing
there, him holding onto her waist, both staring into the other's
eyes. The muffled roar of the surf from the east side of the resort
mingled with the jabber of birds and people as they strolled past
the cabanas, laughing and talking excitedly. Inside, the room was
quiet but for the loud beating of his heart.

“Do you want me to let you go?” Adam finally broke
the silence to ask.

Her pupils flared. “It is probably for the
best.”

He said nothing, his palms warm with the heat of her
through the thin cotton of her dress. For some reason, he seemed
unable to move his hands from her waist.

“I…it's very difficult to speak with you when we're
standing this close,” she added.

“It is?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

The tip of her little pink tongue emerged to lick
her bottom lip. Adam was possessed with the overwhelming desire to
suck her lip into his mouth and taste it for himself.
“You…erm…standing this close…”

“Yes?” The blush that swept up from her chest
intrigued him. Did women still blush over something like a little
physical contact? He eyed her rosy cheeks and bright eyes that held
a hint of apology in them.

“It's a position people usually take when they are
about to kiss each other.”

He really had to let go of her, he knew that. Just
standing so close to her, her thighs pressed against his, the tips
of her breast brushing against his chest with every breath, he was
hard as a rock. She really would think he was a maniac if she knew
he was reacting to her so strongly.

“Would that be such a terrible thing?” he asked.

“Mmm?” She looked confused by the question.

“Kissing.”

Her eyes widened until she had a
deer-in-the-headlights look. “You mean—”

He couldn't stop himself, there was nothing in the
world short of spontaneous combustion or global nuclear war that
would keep him from doing what he had wanted to the second he saw
her. His lips brushed hers gently, tentatively, more a soft lip
embrace than an actual kiss. The feeling of her mouth on his left
him burning with the need to claim it properly, but he knew
instinctively that she was poised on the edge of flight, so he
pulled back and smiled at her instead.

She stared at him in bewilderment as he released her
waist, but captured her hand, tugging her over to where Jesus sat
watching them interestedly.

“Look, it's just a gecko. It's not slimy or wet or
anything, it's just a friendly little lizard that wants to eat the
bugs in your room. He won't come near you, they're very shy of
people. Most of them don't even come out until night.”

She continued to stare at him as he stroked the tips
of her fingers lightly down the back of the gecko.

“You kissed me,” she finally said, then blushed even
harder.

“Yes. Do I need to apologize?”

He was willing to bet he could fry an egg on the
blush that was burning her cheeks.

“No,” she whispered, then looked down at where her
fingertips rested on the gecko. “I still don't want it in my room,”
she said in a stronger voice, slowly pulling her fingers from
beneath his.

He grinned as he retook his seat. “I suspect that
won't be an issue. Jesus seems to have found a friend, and until I
can afford to pay for his new testicles, I'd just as soon he kept
himself busy and his mind off his depression.”

Hero closed her eyes for a moment, opening them
again to shake her head. “His new testicles?”

“Yes, I told you that I was saving for his
operation.”

“But . . .” She looked at the cat
as she sank into the chair opposite the tiny table. “Surely he's
already
had
his
operation?”

“Not that one, the next one. The one to implant his
prosthetic testicles. It's a very expensive procedure.”

She stared at him with a curious
look that was part disbelief, part amusement.
“Prosthetic…
testicles
?”

He frowned at her. “You're going to laugh, aren't
you? Every woman I've told about the prosthetic testicles laughs,
even my vet's partner laughed, but I assure you it's no laughing
matter to Jesus. His self-esteem is involved. It's a very delicate
situation.”

She started to laugh. “I'm sorry, I have no
intention of slighting your cat's testicles, or lack thereof. It's
just that…prosthetic testicles! Only a man would think of such a
useless thing.”

“Useless! A man's balls aren't useless! They have a
very specific purpose, and I don't mind telling you that we as a
gender tend to be fond of them. We feel a definite lack if they are
missing.”

“We weren't talking about your…erm…” she glanced at
his lap and then quickly away.

He ground his teeth together for a moment before
speaking. “You said you had a proposition for me?”

“Yes,” she said, her lips quivering slightly.

“What is it?” he asked crossly, trying to keep the
scowl off his face.

Her lips twitched. “I will tell you, but I don't
want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?”

“Yes.” She lost the battle and began laughing. “It
has nothing to do with tes…tes…testicles.”

Chapter Four

It took Hero a good five minutes to stop laughing.
It didn't help that Adam had shot her such an accusatory look, or
that he turned to his monster of a cat and balefully told him it
was all his fault. Wiping a few tears of hilarity back, she made an
effort to get to the purpose of her proposal. “As I was saying, I
intend on remaining through the duration of the show.”

He stopped scowling long enough to look curious.
“Would you answer a personal question for me?”

She gazed into his blue eyes and
felt her determination not to allow him to affect her any more
begin to melt. Her fingers twitched, wanting to touch her lips, to
see if they had been changed by the almost-not-there kiss that
rocked her world; then she remembered the women. His groupies.
Indignation burned within her as she refortified her defenses
against the sinfully handsome man opposite her. He probably kissed
all of the groupies, too, no doubt as he was doing whatever he did
to make them multiorgasmic. He probably did that on the plane to
Mystique, she grumbled sourly to herself. He might appear to be a
wonderful, warm, caring, handsome, ideal man who cared about
animals and people, the truth was he was the biggest sex fiend of
all. His nipples exploded in delight,
indeed
!

“A personal question? Possibly. What is it?”

“Why would an intelligent, pretty woman like
yourself have to resort to a show like this to find a man?”

A warm kernel of pleasure formed and started to glow
within her at his words. He thought she was intelligent and pretty?
The growing warmth suddenly froze. Intelligent, yes, lots of men
had called her that, but never pretty. He was just flattering her,
he had to be. He was being nice to her because she knew his secret,
and he didn't want her to tell it to anyone. She raised her chin
and gave him what she hoped was a haughty glare. “My reasons for
being here are my own, and move no importance to the proposition I
wish to make to you. Simply put, I must be sure of making it at
least to the second round, and since the first two weeks we are
judged on compatibility with others, I find myself in the necessary
position of offering you a deal.”

“What sort of a deal?” he asked, leaning back in his
chair, looking mildly curious.

“One that will be mutually beneficial: I will agree
to not tell the Eden people and the Mystique officials that you
smuggled your cat through quarantine, and you—” She took a deep
breath. “—agree to be my date once a day for the next two
weeks.”

The words didn't hurt nearly as much as she thought
they would, at least, not until Adam's eyes narrowed on her.

“You'd turn us in?”

“Not if you help me,” she said miserably, feeling
terribly guilty about blackmailing him, but seeing no other choice.
It wasn't as if he really was a nice man. He wasn't. His nipples
exploded on national radio every night. His appearance of niceness
was all a sham, an act to make people believe he was the sort of
man who'd care for a stray cat and adopt him when others would have
ignored the animal, or had him put down.

Besides which, as the television show producer
warned, the odds of making it past the first round of elimination
were not good, especially for someone like her who so obviously
stood out from the rest of the tanned, fit women. “One date per
day, and positive comments each night in the confession booth
should be adequate. That will leave you time to pursue Sally or any
of the myriad other women who seem to wish to be with you, although
I should warn you that Sally does not appear to be the least bit
fond of you. You might wish to rethink your strategy with regard to
your pursuit of her. She seems most adamant that you leave her
alone.”

“I wish I could,” he ground through his teeth,
looking like he wanted to do someone bodily harm. Despite the
gentleness of the kiss they shared earlier, she had a horrible
suspicion it was herself he was thinking of. No doubt he didn't
appreciate her pointing out the fact that the woman he was smitten
with wasn't interested in him. All of which would make his kissing
her reprehensible, except it clearly wasn't intended as a sexual
indicator. It was more of a sympathetic kiss, a kiss for a woman
who posed no sexual threat, a kiss for a pathetic woman afraid of
lizards, a…a pity kiss.

Oh, Lord, had it come to this? Pity kisses?

“I can't believe you'd turn us in. I thought you
liked…er…Jesus,” he said with a hint of steel in his voice.

She pulled her mind from the abject misery that was
her life, and reminded herself that she was strong and completely
capable of living her life without him. Happily. “I do, but this is
business.”

One glossy eyebrow cocked at that.

“What I mean, of course, is that I take the dating
situation very seriously, very seriously indeed, almost as if it
were my business. Which, in a way, it is.”

“Let me see if I have this straight,” Adam said,
frowning at her. “You are blackmailing me into being one of your
dates each day?”

She flinched at the baldness of the statement, then
told herself that blackmailers had no right to be so squeamish.
“Yes.”

“Every day?”

“One per day will suffice, I believe.”

“At the conclusion of which, I am to report to the
confession booth that we had a wonderful time together and are
completely compatible in all ways, and that I hope to date you
again the following day.”

“Well…whatever it will take to gain us the points.
You might not have to lie quite so vehemently. Perhaps just a
little exaggeration will be required.”

He looked a bit perplexed. “Why do you think I'd
have be lying by saying we had a wonderful date and I wanted to see
you again?”

She stared at him in surprise. He really was a good
actor. That or he believed she was so pathetic, he needed to
bolster her ego a bit. Maybe he wasn't quite as hardened and jaded
as he thought. That pity kiss had certainly done a lot for her, at
least until she recognized it for what it was.

But there was the issue of his nipples exploding all
over the place, not to mention his hobby of making women
multi-orgasmic.

She sighed, confused by the dichotomy of his
character. There was a definite blaze of something in the depths of
his blue eyes that didn't say he pitied her. It almost seemed as if
desire lurked in the sapphire depths. She spent a moment in
contemplation of what it would be like to stir such an emotion in
him, then reminded herself that the proof was undeniable: he was a
sex expert and no doubt knew how to simulate sexual interest. She
couldn't allow herself to forget that she had him by the short and
curlies, in that situation, he'd do anything, even pretending he
desired her, in order to keep her mouth shut.

“It matters not,” she said briskly,
determined to get his agreement on the proposition, “You can see
that my plan will benefit you, as well as me. You will also garner
points with each successful date we complete; thus you, too will
make it to the second round. I have no doubt Sally will, as will
most of your…erm…
admirers
.”

“My—oh, them.” He gave her a sheepish grin that
turned her insides all soft and squidgy. How could such a sex fiend
look so adorable? “I don't encourage them, you know. It's a bit
embarrassing, to tell you the truth. I never have been one for
attention.”

She was willing to wager he secretly loved it. All
men loved to have women fawn upon them. “Mmm. Perhaps them becoming
a radio sex therapist wasn't the best career choice to have
made?”

He looked downright uncomfortable, leaving her to
wonder if what he said was true, that he honestly did not like the
attention.

“About that…I…uh…hell. I can't tell you.”

She eyed him for a minute, then stood up and held
out her hand. “Do we have an agreement?”