The Mark of Cain (14 page)

Tracker was right on all counts but, if Inac had
learned anything about Hara, it was that she didn’t like being challenged. A
part of her
wanted
to be rebellious. The part that Inac had woken up in
her that he knew she’d had no idea had been sleeping inside of her.

Hara raised her chin in defiance, which told Inac
that she would go with him just to prove to Tracker that she would do what she
wanted.

She turned to Inac, grabbed the shorts from his
hands, and put them on under her hunter green knee-length skirt right then and
there as Inac placed her backpack in her car and then her keys in the bullet
bike’s storage bin.

“Hara? Please?” Tracker begged as she headed for the
bike. He looked like he was going to cry. “You’re a good girl. Please don’t go
with him!”

Inac was already on the bike, helping Hara onto it
behind him. Once she was situated, he tied her skirt up to her hip on one side
so it wouldn’t blow into the back tire.

Just as she was about to put on the helmet, she
turned and called back to Tracker, “You can’t be good all the time!”

***

As Hara held her arms tight around Inac’s tapered
waist, she couldn’t stop obsessing over the fact that only his flimsy T-shirt
was between her hands and his bare stomach. That and the fact that her thighs
were pressed against his, and her chest was against his back. She hoped that,
if he could feel her heartbeat, he would assume that it was elevated because of
the ride and not because of her proximity to him…which of course was the
real
reason.

She was sure the ride would be exciting, but she
couldn’t pay attention to anything but him at the moment. She just wished that
she didn’t have the helmet on so she could smell him. He wouldn’t even know
that that was what she was doing because she had the innocent excuse of keeping
the wind out of her face by pressing her cheek against his back.

A small part of her felt bad about how she had left
Tracker, though. He had looked like he was going to cry when she’d made the
decision to go with Inac. She knew that Track had good intentions, but did he
really believe she would sleep with Inac just because the guy turned her on? He
should know better than that. That’s why she’d said exactly what would anger
him. She hadn’t really meant it about not wanting to be good all the time,
she’d just wanted him to get over himself. Sometimes he was just too
overprotective for his own good.

Her guilt fled when they stopped at a red light and
Inac put one hand on hers at his stomach before lightly brushing his fingertips
up her arm.

“You doing okay?” he called, peeking at her over his
shoulder.

Of course she was okay. She had the sexiest man
she’d ever met sending tingles throughout her entire body with his touch. She
didn’t say that, though. What she said was, “I’m doing great! I’ve never felt
so alive!” If he knew the way
he
made her feel then she’d
really
be in trouble.

He laughed, still tickling her arm. “I know. Don’t
you find that riding heightens all of your senses?”

“Oh, it definitely does that,” she agreed. But
riding wasn’t what was heightening her senses. That honor belonged to him.

“Is it making you cold? You have goose bumps.”

Another honor that belonged to him. She hadn’t had
them until he’d begun his light caress. But it was sweet that he was so
concerned.

“No. I’m not cold. Just part of the heightened
senses.” After saying that, she realized that that had sounded exactly the way
she’d meant it. Embarrassed, she squeezed his waist tighter as she ducked her
head.

Again, he only laughed. But this time he followed it
by bringing one of her hands to his mouth. Ever so gently, he kissed the
knuckle on her thumb before lowering it back down to his waist. If he kept
doing things like that, then maybe Tracker was right in reminding her that she
was a good girl. He was wrong about Inac but, right now, she didn’t think even
her cross could keep her from physical intimacy if Inac tried. He just had that
much of an effect on her. It was like his pheromones were waking a side of her
that she didn’t even know she had. After twenty-three years, she finally knew
what lust felt like. And wow, did it feel good.

But was it really lust if she thought about spending
time and getting to know him more than she thought about kissing him? Was this
just what chemistry felt like? She wished she knew.

When the light turned green, Inac gunned it, sending
her into a fit of giggles from the momentary fear she felt. There was just
something about Inac that made her feel reckless…and she loved it. For the
first time in her life, she felt truly alive instead of just going through the
motions.

Hara closed her eyes so that her other senses could
take over. It was amazing. Like flying while being anchored to sunlight—Inac was
the sunlight since being near him warmed her from head to toe.

After some time, Inac stopped and turned off the
bike, causing Hara to groan with disappointment; she hadn’t ever wanted the ride
to end. Inac got off before helping her to the ground as well. She looked
around as she took off her helmet, shaking out her blonde waves as she did so.
They were now at the harbor next to a massive, gleaming, sleek white boat.

“So did you like it?” Inac asked with a smile.

She laughed. “It was the most amazing thing I’ve
ever done in my life.”

“Just wait for later,” he said, cracking another
smile that she was sure could charm even the iciest of hearts.

She felt her face flush at the insinuation between
his words. To hide it, she took a deep breath of salty air. It smelled strange
to her for, though she’d lived in Los Angeles for a few years now, she’d never
gone to the beach or been this close to the ocean before. Of course, the aroma
of the sea air had fallen over the city plenty of times, but it was stronger
here, the lapping waves pushing the scent into the light breeze ruffling her
hair.

“So?” she asked. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan is to go sailing,” he answered, pointing
at the boat.

“Oh…. Is this
your
boat?”

He threw her a sideways grin. “Yacht.”

“What?”

“It’s a yacht.”

Did that mean that it wasn’t technically a boat? She
didn’t understand at all. It was probably just a rich person’s way of making
their boat sound special or something.

Aiming to hide her ignorance, she asked, “Is it
safe?”

“Extremely. It’s a hell of a lot safer than that
ride you just took with me.”

She threw him a disapproving glare and said, “Can
you not swear in front of me, please?”

He gave her an odd look back, but didn’t say anything
before taking her hand and helping her walk up a metal walkway and onto the
boat, which was so big it wasn’t lobbing up and down with the waves of the sea
like the other, smaller boats around were. She hoped it was as safe as he said
because she didn’t know how to swim. And yet, although she didn’t know how,
something told her that Inac wouldn’t let her drown. Besides, the railings were
high on the boat—the
yacht
—and the weather was perfect, without a cloud
in the sky. There really wasn’t anything to make her fall into the ocean in the
first place.

She watched as Inac readied the boat, not asking
questions because he seemed to be concentrating on the task at hand. In order
to start the boat, he ended up disappearing for a few minutes. She couldn’t see
the steering wheel or whatever because the boat was so big, so she sat there,
thinking about the fact that maybe Inac really
did
like her. Before long
the boat started moving over the glittering cerulean ocean. She wanted to go
watch it move along the water, but she was afraid she’d fall overboard if she
did. Besides, Inac had told her to stay put, so she’d do as he said. When he
finally came back, he laughed aloud.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Not only did you literally not move like I told you
not to, but your skirt’s still tied up in a knot.”

She looked down at where her hunter green skirt was
tied at her hip, her hair lightly kissing the knot. She was about to untie it
herself but Inac beat her to it, slowly working his hands around the fabric as
he gazed into her eyes—or at least her lids, because
she
was watching
his agile fingers.

“Thank you,” she said as she finally met his gaze.
His advances were making her shy.

“You’re welcome,” he answered, tucking a lock of her
hair behind her ear.

He was going to kiss her and she didn’t know what
she should do to let him know that it was okay. What had she seen in the few
movies Crystal and Tracker had forced her to watch? She couldn’t remember
because they’d all been G or PG and hadn’t really dealt with this.

Inac seemed to come closer to her with every moment.
She was ready for her first kiss, her mouth instinctually parting slightly in
wait. Just before his sensitive mouth was to meet hers, he pulled back, the air
rushing between them, shocking her back to her senses.

“I had dinner made for us. Why don’t you sit here
and I’ll bring it out?” he said, gesturing at a wooden table on the deck set up
with various yellow, purple, sky blue, and white flowers in a vase.

Dazed, she did as he asked. While he was gone, she
sat there, wondering why he hadn’t kissed her. Did he not like her? Did he not
find her attractive? What was wrong with her that made him not want to kiss
her?

He came back with a tray covered in plates as well
as a bottle of red wine. The food he placed before her looked delicious, though
she wasn’t sure what the meat was. It was basically circular with a long,
skinny bone coming out of it.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Lamb,” he said before uncorking the bottle. He then
began pouring it into two large wineglasses.

“Oh, I don’t drink,” she said.

He gave her another odd look before saying, “But
aren’t you Catholic?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t partake of communion?”

“I do.”

“Then how can you say that you don’t drink?”

“I mean other than communion.”

“If it’s okay for communion, then it’s okay in
life.”

“I don’t want to get drunk and lose control of
myself.” What she
didn’t
say was that she didn’t want to lose control
when
he
was around because then she would act completely out of
character and end up spending the night with him.

“Just try a sip. I promise that I won’t let you get
drunk.”

She felt that he was being honest—he’d been honest
about the terrible actions of the Mokolios, so why would he lie to her now?—so
she took the glass he was offering and took a small amount of it into her
mouth, rolling it around her tongue.

“Wow! That’s
good
!”

His smile was the largest she had ever seen. With
it, his eyes looked younger. Usually he had the weight of the world in his
eyes, making him appear like an old soul. The lack of that made him even better
looking…if that was even possible.

“Thanks,” he said as he finished pouring her a full
glassful of the dark liquid. Once she brought the glass to her lips again he
added, “It’s from the sixteenth century.”

She almost spluttered on her second sip. When she
could breathe again, she cried, “
What
?! It must be worth a fortune!”

He shrugged. “The Adamsons own a few vineyards and
have an extensive wine collection that is impeccably taken care of. It’s the
best collection on the planet. Wine collectors would go nuts for even one
bottle from it.”

His family sounded more and more impressive the more
she learned about them. Maybe that was why he didn’t kiss her; she was
obviously below him. She thought about that all throughout dinner, longing to
ask him what was wrong with her, but too nervous to do so.

In an attempt to loosen up a bit, she drank a couple
glasses of wine. She was silly to not have had it with dinner before. It calmed
and relaxed her. Plus, true to his word, Inac didn’t let her drink more than
that, citing that it was a strong wine and any more would be too much.

“You don’t do anything normal, do you?” she asked
once dinner was winding down.

“What do you mean?”

“Us. Here. On a yacht. Old wine. Fancy dinner. Odd
assortment of flowers,” she said, flicking her hands in the air with each
sentence, her wrists relaxed so her hands flopped around—she was sure she
probably looked like a floozy.

“Ah. But each flower here has a purpose,” he said,
leaning forward in his chair.

“What kind of purpose?” Other than to woo her….

“Well, this one,” he said, picking up an odd-looking
purple flower with few petals and a large yellow middle, “is an anemone. It
declares the receiver to be fragile.”

“Really?”