Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (3 page)

Chapter 3

Mac woke up with a pounding headache. The night before, he decided to ‘get his drink on’ with a couple of ladies in attempt to forget about the enticing Marabella. This trip to Mexico had been his only vacation in five years, having been through a lot of shit in that time, he was burned out, running hard in a never-ending marathon. He needed to put the pieces back together after some major life disappointments. Even on vacation, the agency managed to give him one more assignment, keeping him in the loop on the details as they became available.

He managed to stagger down to the pool of his all-inclusive Mexican resort getaway. He took the closest lounger he could find and sank into it. The five-star resort had been recommended to him and he had done the research. It boasted about spectacular surroundings but he couldn’t get into it. He would have to take it all in later when his mind wasn’t so muddled with other thoughts. Sitting on the edge of the lounger, he hung his head in his hands.

A tiny prickle on the back of his neck caught his attention and he needed to scope out his surroundings, scanning the area across the pool. Squinting to sharpen his focus, he wanted to make sure he saw things correctly. He scrubbed his face with his hands. Yep, that was her. Marabella. The beauty he couldn’t forget about no matter how hard he tried. She was his first thought that morning even after a night at the bar of tits and tequila. How could he ever forget how she affected him on the flight down? With his hands folded in prayer over his nose and mouth, he breathed out heavily, trying to figure out what the hell his next move was going to be. The pull to her was gravitational.

He studied Mara from across the pool; flanked by two women he assumed were her sisters. He vaguely remembered seeing them push their way toward Mara on the plane as he made his escape. Both were beauties in their own way. To her right was a very tall woman with shoulder-length blonde hair with an athletic build. She appeared to be the calm one in the group. The other one had light brown hair and a curvy body. She waved her hands around, clearly the spitfire. But neither one of them moved him the way Mara did. This mystery woman more than piqued his curiosity. Mac had friends with benefits for a reason. It was easy and he preferred it; that way no one got hurt.

This woman wound him up somehow and yet settled him down. Mara rolled over him like a warm ocean wave that lulled you into a peaceful content place down to your soul. She stirred his emotions, making him off-balance. For some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t turn away from her. The gods of torture had placed her right in front of him. He couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. This was either going to be one hell of a train wreck or the most beautiful sunrise ever.

After her sisters left, he watched her from across the pool. She seemed to be playing with something in her hands. Her clothes had been hiding her very well toned legs and generous cleavage. They were exposed by a black one-piece bathing suit with a short pink sarong. As her focus zeroed in on something in her hands, the sadness never left her face. It punched him in the gut as it radiated off her from across the pool. He noticed the almost-empty umbrella drink, thinking a refill may be in order. It was his excuse to get closer. He wanted to disprove the hold she had on him. As he grabbed the pink drink from the outdoor bar, his hand shook slightly.

Mate, since when do you get nervous about getting a woman a drink? You know why? Because this isn’t just any woman. This is the one who makes your palms sweat and shake. It makes you want to ravage her in a whole other way.

He wandered over, glancing at the pool, imagining what it would be like to get her wet. He set the fruity drink next to her on the small, white plastic table.

Mara glanced over as recognition lit in her eyes. He watched as her eyes followed a big forearm with tan skin and a smattering of dark hair. Her eyes journeyed upward to be confronted by his huge shoulders under a black t-shirt, messy brown hair and a sexy-as-hell smile. The sunglasses hid the most amazing moss-green eyes. Mac. Goosebumps formed on her skin, ambushing her senses, and he hadn’t even touched her.

“Is that drink for me?” Her tone was soft, afraid he might be an apparition.

“Aye, I’m not much of an umbrella drink kind of chap. I thought I would keep your appetite wet.” Mac smirked, trying to gauge her reaction to his double entendre. His job had taught him that you had to be able to read people well or suffer the consequences—which, in this case, may well end with his shattered heart. His body tensed, aware of the tug between staying and fleeing. As much as he wanted to turn away, staying seemed to be winning this war.

“I took you for more of a whiskey guy. Like the whole bottle, from the looks of it,” she finally gave him half a smile.

“I want to thank you for putting up with me on the flight. You’re a real gentleman. There aren’t many of those left in the world.” She peeked up at him through her thick lashes, her eyes soft and sincere.

God, if she only knew, she would probably run for the hills. The dark side of me wants to take her to edge to find out if I can bring out her wild side. I want to possess her until she screams out my name, begging for release.

“You don’t need to thank me. It was my pleasure. By the way, are you trying to tell me I look like shit after a night of drinking?” He laughed, knowing he not only looked it but felt it, too. “I guess it’s a small world. How long are you here for?” He dug himself in deeper. Those eyes matched with that body had him forgetting about any other woman on the planet.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” He started moving to the lounger next to her. She nodded, watching him move with strong, confident strides. He pulled the lounger over so he was right next to her.

“My sisters and I are here for ten days. I needed this getaway to rethink and recharge.” The sadness returned to her eyes.

Mara cast her gaze down at her piece of clay that started to take shape. Mac regarded the blob, wondering why she would bring clay to a pool. Then he remembered Eros, the dragon—her safety net.

“I hope Eros had a safe landing. Do you take clay wherever you go?” His serious tone indicated he took her to be a serious artist. She appreciated that, making a mental note, but had her guard up anyway. Brock had always made fun of her miniature sculptures with his biting comments.

Jesus, get serious, Mara! Grow the fuck up! Those creatures are childish and stupid! You need to make some real art. How are you ever going to make a name for yourself? I guess your father’s right. You’re not an artist and never will be.

“For your information, I’m a sculptor and yes, I take clay wherever I go. It helps me think. My hands and head work together. They always have. What do you do to relieve stress?” Mara came across pricklier than she intended.

Mac took off his sunglasses, leaning in close to her, hoping to take in her scent again. His breath lightly brushed along her neck, making her gasp at his closeness. Unlike on the plane, she could totally focus on him. He smelled heavenly, the combination of clean, citrus and spice—just the way a real man should smell after a shower, not the heavy musk of her late husband’s expensive cologne. Dragon wings flutter in her stomach as a lump caught in her throat. This man made her heart race, taking her by surprise.

Involuntarily closing her eyes, she briefly let her other senses take all of him in. She couldn’t help but feel like she knew him from somewhere before the plane encounter. She couldn’t pinpoint where. Did she somehow recognize his essence? When their eyes connected, it was just the two of them; the world seemed to fall away.

When she opened her eyes, he was scrutinizing her intently. “My head and hands work together, too. I could show you how I relieve stress. However, it usually includes someone of the female persuasion.” He used his artillery of charm, pushing her to see what she would do with it.

He pulled back enough to see the blush tint her cheeks. His cock started to come to life, which amazed him considering his intake of tequila the night before. His body had made it clear it wanted this woman underneath him. He had a visceral reaction to her. The women he kept company with wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at his retort. Seeing her blush had him wanting more. He wanted to dive in and never come up. These thoughts and emotions started to cloud his judgment and his control started to slip.

“Well, how do you know I want you to show me? Look around you; there are plenty of females for you to persuade.” She came right back at him, challenging him with those big blue eyes.

Kitten has sass, too? This is going to get interesting. But I’ve got the devil on my shoulder.

He moved uncomfortably trying to manage his full salute. Her mouth was getting her into trouble, in more ways than one.

God, when was the last time just talking to a woman had his body on full alert?

He loved a good challenge and was somewhat mystified by her response, a contradiction in so many ways, from her coyness to her innocent blush. Mac let his gaze follow down to her gorgeous, toned legs and back up to her large, supple breasts, resting on her beautifully flawless face. His response was short, sweet and to the point.

“Oh, I think you want me to show you. I can tell by the shine in your eyes, the blush in your cheeks, and the way your breath makes your luscious cleavage go up and down. You’re a dead giveaway. By the way, there’s only one woman here I’m interested in persuading.” He gave her his slanted, sexy smile. Let the sparring begin.

She caught her breath. His freshness and unbelievably sexy attitude had her nipples standing at attention. As her hands came up to cover them, the clay dragon slipped from them onto the pool deck. Mac caught her hands and laid them in her lap.

“Don’t hide. I like to see you when you’re aroused like this.”

He glanced at her pert nipples as he picked up the dragon, examining it. He could tell she was a bit stunned by his admission and sucked in her breath, which puzzled him. Why would she be surprised that he would want to look at her? He adored exquisite women. The mysteries never seemed to end with her. He let her off the hook—this time.

“Seems like the beginnings of a dragon. Is this one to keep Eros company?” His eyebrows furrowed together, interested in the fact that the dragon was red. He found her fascination with dragons adorable, in an artsy way, strengthening that invisible silken cord between them.

“Do you know that the red dragon represents some dark stuff, like death, anger, aggression, danger, and can even be a warning?” Mac’s tone held no amusement.

“Well, that would make sense considering what’s happened lately in my life. You might say I’m at a crossroads of sorts. It’s time for a new muse to help me sort through it. Maybe the danger has already passed.” She didn’t want to give too much away. Mara didn’t want to expose her broken parts to him, but there was that pull again and it wasn’t letting go.

“What crossroads are you at? It sounds ominous and interesting. You like to keep me guessing.” He stayed focused on her, wanting her to reveal a little more of herself, making sure the dominance and protectiveness of his body would help without being threatening. What kind of danger was she in? His body went on alert, waiting for her answer.

She took a deep breath, “I lost my husband about three months ago. Some things are starting to come to light that I would have liked to stay in the dark.” How much of the steel would let loose? Another rivet waited for its next jolt. She was interested to know what his reaction would be to her news.

“Saying sorry isn’t enough. I know what it’s like to lose someone you’re close to.” Leaning back, darkness clouded his eyes, and he shut them briefly trying to hide his painful memory. “I lost someone, too. It was a living hell to watch, not being able to do anything about it. Sometimes, people leave behind holes.”

He hadn’t talked to anyone about her, but it was long overdue. He was caught up in her naturalness and shared this fragment with her, yet it scared the crap out of him. Her death was like an open wound. He teetered between wanting to tell Mara everything to not wanting her to see the man he had become. The one who was closed off and alone. Her death had left a gaping hole in him, all too aware that life turns on a dime and loved ones could be gone in an instant.

As the next words came out of Mara’s mouth, he was certain he would be sharing all of it with her. He would push through the pain to get to the other side.

“I can tell by the pain in your eyes that the person was very special to you. You’re right; sometimes, sorry isn’t enough. My husband died in a suspicious car accident. No one can figure out what he was doing in Brighton Beach that time of night. As some things have come to light, I’m not sure I knew him at all.” The words hit him hard. She really believed she didn’t know the man she called her husband. He couldn’t think of anything worse.

She shut her lips firmly to stop herself from revealing more. To say the words out loud made it all too real for her, piercing her bubble.

Mac stared at her flawless face, made up to perfection. Every lash was in place with enough blush to appear natural. The foundation and eyeliner were exact, made to enhance her features. He wanted to peel away the mask to reveal what she was hiding, and why she needed it. A smile formed on his lips, as he itched to know more about the mystery of this woman.

He reached out his hand to her, just like on the plane, palm open. Lightning couldn’t strike twice, he was so sure he wouldn’t feel that energy again, a fluke at best. He wondered about the rolling emotions inside her, given the current revelations about her past.