Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (5 page)

“So, have you ever been scuba diving before?” He already knew the answer to the question but gave her a chance to answer anyway.

“No. But I think I would like to try it. A new beginning means trying new things.” Her false bravado came to the forefront again, but she needed to push herself out of her comfort zone.

“Well, there’s a class early tomorrow morning for resort certification, and then an open water dive in the afternoon. How does that sound?”

She lit up at his suggestion, agreeing to the unexpected new adventure. For her, this was a big one. She never would have come up with the idea to scuba dive on her own. She would be able to spend more time with Mac, and thinking about him move in the water half-naked did things to her. In some ways, it would be a test of her trust of him.

Chapter 5

She came back to the suite and collapsed on the bed, praying sleep would help her escape reality. In her dreams, Mac would be trustworthy and she believed all the things he said. Needless to say, confusion set in about the events of the day. She ping-ponged between her strong connection to him and not trusting him. Something unsettled her. She longed for him to see her with all her broken bits, but couldn’t gauge how he would react once he found out the truth. He seemed so genuine and protective, even giving her a glimpse of the man behind his created facade. But that one blip on the radar she recognized instantly as a cover-up. Was it all a ruse? It couldn’t have been just to get her in bed.

Mara woke up from her nap. She looked around her luxurious bedroom decorated with a cream and beige palette and accented with dark wood floors, serving as a background for pops of coral. The ceiling fan whirled above her as the soft light streamed in from the slider, coaxing in the ocean breeze. The smile on her face had been from dreaming about Mac, remembering how his body warmed near hers. He exuded masculinity from his body, mind, and smell. Something felt so familiar about him, like a reconnection with an old friend. She couldn’t have been that wrong about him. He gave her a snippet of his heartache, losing someone close to him. She related to his pain but wished he would share more with her. Mara shook her head to rid the thoughts of him when her sisters came barreling through the front door.

“Hey, Mara, are you here? What you are up to?” Raquelle sang from the living room.

“I’m here trying to take a nap but was interrupted by two loud females.” She said with a smile on her face. “How was fishing?” she continued, knowing the double meaning would get Raquelle talking.

“Well, since you asked, I reeled in a big one and will be seeing him later. Leigha entertained one of his friends, but you know how faithful she is to Tom, the yawner.” Raquelle coyly smiled at Leigha.

“I wondered if you caught any actual fish. You always catch men; that’s a given,” Mara deflected, inwardly wishing she were more like Raquelle in the ‘free spirit with men’ department.

“No, we didn’t catch any fish.” Leigha rolled her eyes and turned to Raquelle. “And what’s with the comment about Tom? I thought you liked him?”

“I do, if you want someone to crunch numbers and do your taxes. He’s just kind of boring, that’s all.” Raquelle put on a little pout as if to say, ‘Don’t hate me because I like ‘em rough and ready.’

“Well, you know what, Raquelle? We can’t all have Tarzan, now can we.” Leigha spoke loud enough to get their attention. Spinning on her heels, she headed for her bedroom.

The room became awkwardly silent. “What the hell was that about?” Raquelle and Mara stood there, a little stunned by Leigha’s outburst. “Something must be going on that she hasn’t told us about. She’ll come around when she’s ready,” Raquelle stated with confidence at her latest evaluation of her sister’s situation.

“Are we going to dinner? I have some things I’d like to talk to you about. I need some input on my life at the moment,” Mara said quietly, uncertain as to whether her situation had any answers.

“What kind of soul-searching did you do at the pool, anyway?” Raquelle had a worried look on her face. The baby was watching out for her fragile older sister.

“I’ll tell you over dinner. Do you think you can make up with Leigha in the meantime?” She gave the ‘because I said so’ look, which seemed to be enough.

They got ready and headed down to the five-star steakhouse restaurant at the resort. In their social circles, one was taught to always dress well for dinner. Leigha wore a long, draped gown by Donna Karen in navy blue satin with a crisscrossed back. The way it hung on her made her appear even more statuesque. Mara wore her standard Armani little black dress, perfect for any occasion. Raquelle out shined both her sisters with her Alexander McQueen black and red stained-glass knit sheath dress, snug in all the right places and fit like couture.

The final accent was the shoes, ranging from Stuart Weitzman Sail Crystal-satin pumps to Jimmy Choos to Louboutin. While walking together, they resembled something close to Charlie’s Angels, sans the guns, and earned stares from everyone, as Raquelle liked to point out on several occasions along the way. She strutted like a runway model, working it more than Leigha and Mara. They were the spotlights to her center stage. But the three of them drew attention from men and women alike. Mara had always been uncomfortable with the attention, but had gotten used to it over the years. Relief came when the focus wasn’t on her.

As they entered the restaurant, parchment paper sconces casted a soft light on the cherry-wood walls to create the warm ambiance. As Mara took in an overview of the restaurant floor, a sea of color, from burgundy to sage greens resembled a warm, cozy quilt. Each table had its own touches of decoration, accented by a big ornate bouquet of flowers from orchids to dahlias. The oversized doors opened wide to a deck that seemed to spread out over the ocean. They stopped to let their artistic sides take it all in before going to their table.

The evening started with appetizers and chit-chat about the day. There seemed to be a quiet tension of a musical instrument that had been strung too tightly and it could give way at any minute. When Mara couldn’t deal with her own fidgeting anymore, she rapidly blurted out, “I met a man on the plane ride down here, he’s staying at the resort, and we spent the afternoon together. We’re going scuba diving tomorrow morning.” Her eyes volleyed back and forth between her two sisters to gauge their reactions. She had hit them with the one-two punch.

“Would you care to elaborate on this encounter? I didn’t even know about a man on the plane ride. And since when do you scuba dive?” Raquelle cut right to the chase.

“He sat next to me on the plane. His name is Mac, and he’s from Scotland. He seemed nice enough at the time and even offered to hold my hand to keep me from freaking out. We all know how anxious I am about flying.” Mara laced and unlaced her fingers, glancing up briefly up to see if she still had their attention. Sometimes, you could lose Raquelle in the middle of a story due to boredom, but Mara needed her take on things.

“What I didn’t know on the plane is that he’s staying here at the resort. We met up again at the pool today after you left. We went for a swim and talked about some personal stuff. There were some things that seemed a little off, though. At least I’ve been trained well in the telltale signs of a man lying or telling a half-truth. After dealing with Brock, I don’t need his lying shit.”

They grew very quiet as they both stared at Mara. A rivet popped out as a wisp of light snuck in. Her strength began to build, making her stronger and a little bolder as the truth unfolded like a black napkin with an intricate interior design. The threat of Brock ceased to exist, no image to protect. She could let him go.

Raquelle started off, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay, you need to slow down. What lying shit are you talking about? You did say you shared some intimate information with him, right?”

“He talked about his job, and the deceit was in his eyes. It was there and gone. I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. He seemed so interested in me. It’s the way he looks at me, like I’m the only woman in the world. He makes me feel special. Maybe it’s part of his charm to get women into bed. I feel like we have a connection, one I’ve never had with a man before. Then he shared some personal stuff, but I guess that’s all part of his game. Right? He’s playing me.” Sputtering, her self-doubt came out in spades.

Leigha always came at things from a different angle. “What did you talk about, exactly?”

“We discussed Brock’s death, our different upbringings and the death of someone close to him. I got the sense he doesn’t like to talk about the woman he lost. I was surprised when he shared it with me. He seems genuinely affected by her death, as if they were very close. When we were in the pool, he asked me to kiss him, which I didn’t do. I guess that was a good idea, considering he’s a player.” Mara explanation came out in a rush, falling over her words. She always second-guessed herself; Brock made sure of that.

As the conversation lulled, Leigha and Raquelle reviewed the revelation of the day’s events. The wheels turned in their heads. The waiter interrupted their contemplative moment to take their order. Little did Leigha and Raquelle realize their sister was about to drop another bomb more horrific than the first one.

Dinner provided a minor distraction, consisting of filet that cut like butter and incredibly fresh seafood. They ordered two bottles of wine, one cabernet sauvignon and a wonderful pinot grigio. Mara started to move her food around the plate, anxiety taking over, planning what she really wanted to talk to them about.

Raquelle was all gusto where food was concerned, moaning and purring; one would think she was making love to it. Quite frankly, her sisters wondered where she put it all, but she ate food like she lived life—to the fullest. Leigha, the neat eater, ate each food group separately in small bites, ever the lady, always in control. Mara’s mixed emotions were tied to her appetite and hadn’t quite stabilized since her world kept getting tilted.

“What happened to this person?” Leigha always liked to deeply examine things, going below the mirrored surface.

Before she had a chance to answer, the feeling of being watched had come back again. The hair rose on her arms and this time as she glanced casually around the restaurant, looking to identify the source. But nothing appeared out of the ordinary or familiar. Leigha noticed her discomfort.

“What’s wrong, Mara? You look spooked and you have goose bumps on your arms. What’s going on?” Leigha seemed alarmed by Mara’s reaction.

“At the pool today, I could feel someone watching me. I had the same reaction as now, goose bumps and hair standing on end. I guess my mind is playing tricks on me.” She tried to shake off her paranoia to continue their discussion. “So, where were we?”

Tucked away in a far corner, her nemesis continued to watch Mara’s every move, every connection, waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

Ah, trying to shake me off isn’t going to deter me. I watch your every move. Besides, they can’t help you once I get you alone.

Raquelle continued by honing right in on the kiss. “So far, I’m not hearing ‘player’ when you describe this man. Tell me about the kiss that didn’t happen. Why didn’t you kiss him? Kissing is the first clue to any real chemistry.” She played a young version of Dr. Ruth. Any sex problem that needed to be solved, Raquelle was your go to sex therapist.

Mara dug deep for courage and perseverance. She balled her fists under the table and willed herself to move forward with her story. Everything started with this conversation, one revelation at a time.

“I didn’t kiss him because I was scared I wouldn’t be enough for him, like I wasn’t enough for Brock. My body tensed up like it always does. Why do you think Brock cheated on me? It wasn’t because I was so wonderful in the bedroom. He couldn’t stand to touch me, and we always had sex in the dark.” She had never been angry before, just sad she couldn’t be something different. Rage started to boil to the surface. As the anger took over, another door opened. She wanted to throw it open and see what was behind it.

Leigha and Raquelle sat there silently regarding her. Raquelle started to peel away at Mara’s layers.

She leaned in and spoke softly to Mara. “What do you mean, he could barely stand to touch you? In public, he always seemed attentive, and you two presented as the ‘perfect couple,’” she used her fingers for air quotes.

“What happened in public and in front of family was not what happened behind closed doors. He acted differently when we were alone. He wasn’t very nice most of the time. I thought it was the natural progression of things, like that’s what happened after years of marriage.” This little tidbit of information was only the tip of the iceberg. Her shame caused tears to well up behind her eyes. The conversation hung like dead air, surrounding them uncomfortably.

Even in her warring emotional state, her body became aware of him before he approached them. As she peeked up sideways through a few wisps of hair, Mac stalked toward their table like he owned the place, making his presence known. First, he looked at her sisters with interest as he stopped at their table.

“Ladies, how are you this evening? I’m Mac. Mara and I met on the plane ride down here.” He reached out his hand to greet Raquelle and Leigha as they introduced themselves to him. Mara gave him a once-over while he chatted with her sisters. The green polo shirt hugged his chest and accented his eyes. Khaki pants matched the sports jacket and hung on him perfectly. Mara heart beat wildly, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch him, to seek out the comfort that only he seemed to be able to give her especially in this moment.

He turned to her. “Mara, I... Are you okay?” There was a sheen of tears at the edge of her eyes and her hand shook as it covered her mouth. His brow creased as he tried to assess the situation with Mara, not letting her off the hook.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking.” She shook her head to stop the tears from falling. At that moment, she was horrified that he might be able to really see her. She wanted to hide and as if a switch flipped, her face closed down, wanting him to leave to continue her discussion with her sisters without interruption.

He read the change in her eyes that told him he wasn’t welcome. He hesitated for a moment, not quite sure he wanted to leave without talking to her first, to make sure she was okay. He decided he would unravel her later.