Deities all mighty. He stilled and held his breath. He hoped she didn’t run. With her luck, she’d end up tripping on a pebble and breaking her neck.
“I can’t see you, but I know you’re there,” she said between several heavy breaths. “And whatever you think you’re getting from me, you won’t. I’ll die before I let you rape me.”
Rape her? Bloody hell! “I’m not going to touch you. Not like that, anyway. But if you run…” Though his vision rivaled that of any nocturnal beast, he could barely make her out in the dark but saw she remained motionless, her back to him.
Poor woman must be terrified. What a complete asshole. He was supposed to protect her, but instead ended up terrorizing her.
Or killing her. Or letting her be taken out by a bee while you jerk off. Idiot.
“And if I do run. What are you going to do?” she challenged.
“You do not want to get hurt, do you? Accidents happen all the time.” Oh, hell. That had come out all wrong. It had sounded like a threat.
“Why do you want to hurt me? What have I done?” she asked bitterly.
This was not going well. “I do not wish to harm you; I simply want to talk.”
“Like hell you do.” Something hard and fast knocked him over the head. He fell to his knees.
Six
Ashli heard a loud gong when the shovel made contact. From the sound of the intruder’s deep groan and his body hitting the ground, it had been a direct hit to the head. “That’s right! Nobody messes with the Ashli… the Ashli…” The Ashli-nator? The Ashli-cutioner? The… Oh. Forget it! “Nobody messes with me!”
Okay. So now what? She needed to go find Luis or call the police. If she left, he might wake up and escape, only to return another day and carry out his sick, psychotic fantasy.
My belt! She slid it from her waist and gave it a quick tug between her hands. Yes, it was thin but made from strong leather. It would be perfect for tying his hands.
She crouched, feeling for the stranger’s arms. Dammit. If only she could see him, but it was still pitch-black. Winter sucked!
Her fingertips encountered warm, bare skin, smooth and tight. Oh, what a firm pectoral muscle. Her hands slid farther south over a set of steely, exaggeratedly ripped abs—wow, are these implants?—stopping short of where his waistband might be.
Shit. She snatched her hand away. This guy wasn’t wearing any clothes! Pervert! Hurry! Tie him up.
She sucked in the crisp predawn air and reached for him again. Okay. Shoulder. Oh! There’s another pectoral. Also insanely hard and bulgy. Pervs must have a lot of time on their hands to go to the gym. Bet he has a damned membership to 24-Hour Perv-ness! And don’t think about the odd tingles in your fingers. Or how his chest is built like a Greek god. Because that would then make her the perv. Or stupid and lame. Either way, not good.
But by then, it was too late. An overpowering curiosity had taken hold, urging her hands to stroll. What did he look like? He was a big pervy stalker so his face had to be all contorted and riddled with unsightly scars. Right?
She leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of any distinctive shadows, but the sun hadn’t come up yet and the garden was a pit of darkness.
She slid her fingers to his forehead and worked her way down, expecting Klingon-like ridges or bony protrusions like one of those Sith Lords (yes, she watched way too much sci-fi). What she found, however, was anything but gross or intergalactic. Or pervy.
Smooth, warm cheeks, a thick growth of bristly whiskers on his jaw, a straight nose, and… She swallowed. Soft, full lips. She leaned down again and placed her ear directly above his mouth. His warm breath bathed her cheek. Damn. The man even smelled nice. Fresh and clean like mountain air, but with a hint of something else, the kind of something one might want to smell over and over again. Like homemade pumpkin bread with a hint of spice. Must be some pervy mouthwash. Holiday-scented Lister-perv! But still, it smelled really good.
What’s the matter with you? This guy just broke into your house, threatened to kill you, and here you are smelling him and exploring his pecs? You’re not so bright, are you, Ash? But the impulse to touch him was uncontainable.
How about your impulse to live?
Can I live with him?
Stop it. Get a grip, Ash!
Yes. A grip.
She slid her hand down his arm, which contained yet another enormous, bulging muscle, and found his wrist. She tugged him a few feet—damn, he’s heavy! Must be huge!—next to the palm tree. She wrapped his arms around the tree and tied his wrists together. The trunk was only about as thick as a basketball, but it was strong enough to hold him in place. For a while anyway.
He groaned loudly, and she stepped back, knocking herself into her garden chair. Crap. He was waking up!
He groaned again with a deep, penetrating voice, sending a shock wave of quivers through her trembling body. The sound sparked images of rolling in the sand naked, wrapped in a man’s big, strong arms, feeling his heat against her skin. Yes. This had been the other dream she’d repeatedly had. The dream of the faceless man who ravaged her body with his tongue and hands while he pleasured her in ways only possible in—well, dreams—and with a body so male, so perfect that she shuddered each time she thought of him. A cock so large and thick that she melted with…
What. Is. The. Matter. With. You? Go get help!
Righto.
She reached out her hands and felt her way toward the beach to find Luis.
“Wait,” that deep voice called out. “Do not leave me here.”
Oh, shit. He’s awake. “You just tried to murder me!”
Dammit, if only she could see him. This was just too scary talking to someone she couldn’t see. She’d give anything for a flashlight.
“Gods be damned, woman,” he snarled. “I did not try to kill you. I am here to protect you.”
Yeah, right. “And I’m Mary. Didn’t you notice my little lamb? It actually looks like a giant shovel, but don’t let that fool you.”
“You think I jest,” he said, “but I do not. I am here to save your life.”
“Might I ask from what?”
“Yourself, apparently. You cannot deny, Ashli, that death has a thing for you.”
Holy crap. How did he know that?
He added, “Haven’t you felt it? The nagging sensation that your life is about to end? Perhaps had dreams about it?”
The blood in her veins turned to crushed ice. How could he possibly know that? The only person she’d ever mentioned anything to was her therapist, and she found it highly unlikely that Doctora Hernandez would share her patients’ most private thoughts with a pervy stalker with a workout obsession.
“I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but whatever,” Ashli said. “You can explain yourself to the police. By the way, in Mexico, a fifty-peso bribe can make your prison stay a little extra horrible. I’m throwing down one hundred.”
She scrambled through the garden, feeling her way out to the beach, where the first rays of light came into view over the horizon. “Finally!”
She reached the neighbor’s property where Luis resided in a tiny guesthouse, and pounded on the door. “Luis! Luis!” He’d likely just gone to bed. “Despierta!”
Luis opened the door, groggy with sleep. “Sí?”
She explained how she’d caught the intruder, and Luis immediately went for his handcuffs, baton, pepper spray, and flashlight.
“Voy a asegurar que no se escapa la rata. Usted, se queda aca. Entiende?” he said.
Hell, yeah, she was staying put! She wasn’t about to go anywhere near her house until the pervy, nudist muscleman was detained.
She nodded and watched Luis charge off toward her house, but only several minutes passed before he returned.
“Señorita Ashli!” Luis wiped his sweaty brow and bent over to catch his breath. “No hay nadie.”
What? No one? Of course he was there. He had to be. “Lo dejé amarrado a mi árbol,” she explained.
Luis looked at her as if she were mad and then assured her he found no man, woman, child, donkey, or otherwise tied to her palm tree.
How could he have already gotten away? Ugh! That pervyworkoutbastard! She stormed toward her house, Luis on her tail, but he was right. When she got to her garden, there was no one there. She scratched her head. Now what would she do? The man had gotten away. What if he came back? What if he came after her again?
“I guess it’s time for that dog.”
Bloody deity infernum! Máax’s head throbbed with a pain so severe it reminded him of the time he’d accidentally been stepped on by Cimil’s unicorn. Giant fucking thing thought it was some sort of lapdog but weighed the same as an elephant.
So what had that bloody woman hit him with? A garbage truck? No way was that a simple shovel.
In any case, it knocked a few of his marbles loose because he didn’t recall freeing himself or making his way inside her house. But he had. In fact, he’d made it to her bed, and now Ashli lay beside him, sound asleep. How long had he been out, and how the hell had she fallen asleep without noticing a very large man in her bed?
Because you’re invisible and were lucky enough to pass out on the side of the bed she doesn’t use.
Carefully, he edged off the bed, trying not to disturb her. Ashli rolled over and flung her arm over his chest.
Deorum inferorum. Máax sucked in a deep breath.
“You smell so good,” she mumbled.
She talks in her sleep? For some reason he found that adorable.
“What cologne is that?” she added.
His natural scent. All gods produced a pleasing aromatic cocktail of pheromones. He supposed it was nature’s subtle way of disarming humans, making it less likely for them to freak out and realize they were in the presence of something not quite human.
Ironically, he felt like the one being lulled by Ashli’s scent. He’d never smelled a more enticing fragrance: tropical flowers mixed with a slight hint of those roasted chili peppers from her kitchen and fresh ocean air. Gods, the scent was just as exotic as the woman. Add to that, Ashli seemed to enjoy the ocean, his passion, as much as he did. If he could live his entire existence on the beach, he would. The air, the tropical breeze, the soft sand… there was nothing better than swimming in the waves or surfing when the opportunity arose, though it had been a very long time. Isn’t such a smart idea to surf when you’re invisible. A lone surfboard, carving a wave on its own, looks a bit strange. Nor was it smart to lay next to Ashli, enjoy the warmth of her touch while sniffing her hair, or allow himself to grow extremely aroused. Which he had.
Idiot. What was the point? So he could remind himself what he was missing out on? Once this was all over, which it would be because he never failed, they’d both move on. Him to some cold, dark tomb probably buried somewhere in a remote swamp where no one would find him for a million years. And Ashli—she would find some nice human to spend her mortal days with.
Or perhaps one of your brothers. After all, Cimil prophesied that twenty years from now, Ashli would broker peace between his brethren. That meant she’d meet them all. And Ashli was a catch, not to mention the one person on the planet destined to save them all. How? He had no clue. Yes, clearly the woman had her attributes—sexy as hell attributes—but aside from that, she seemed quite normal. Nevertheless, being savior of the planet would grant her instant celebrity status and boatloads of attention. She’d have men lining up around the block.
He balled his fists, then let go. All for the best. Because he didn’t want her. Much. And he certainly didn’t need the distractions; this was one mission he couldn’t afford to fail.
He sighed and Ashli flinched. Máax lifted his head, ready to make a mad dash from the room if she woke up, but found himself entranced. Her plump lips and golden skin; her dark lashes, fanning along the crease of her catlike eyes; her hair a wild mass of thick black curls. He had no idea of her heritage, but never had there been a more seductive female in existence.
His eyes swept down the length of her small athletic frame covered only in a flimsy white sundress. Next to his large body, Ashli appeared more petite than she really was.
An urge to dominate her, to take her right there, sparked.
Or perhaps you’d enjoy the opposite. Yes, he’d enjoy the feel of her lithe, lean figure straddling him, riding his cock.
Hell, man. That’s enough, you horny bastard.
“Fuck this,” he hissed and slipped quickly from the bed before he did something he regretted. Like kiss her.
Or motorboat her.
You randy bastard.
He needed to go for a swim. Yes, the ocean water would cool him down. The ocean always made him feel better, like being home.
Ashli’s eyes flew open when a gust of wind blew through the house. She sat up quickly, her eyes scanning the room, ears listening for any sounds. In the shadows of her mind, she feared the intruder would return. Had he?
She tensed, continuing to listen.
Nothing.
Perhaps she’d dreamed it.
She ran her hands over her tangled curls. With all the commotion this morning, she’d called Fernando to open the café. Then, while Luis handled things with the police, her head had begun spinning from the adrenaline, and she needed a moment to calm down. She’d crawled into bed but clearly dozed off, which was a stupid move considering the situation. She should’ve been on her guard, sharpening her kitchen knives or rounding up her garden tools. Something.
What if he’d returned while she’d been napping?
You’re an idiot, Ash. He’s not going to show up in the middle of the day. And it was highly unlikely he’d come right back after he’d escaped only hours ago. That wouldn’t be logical. No.
She did, however, need to think about what to do tonight. She couldn’t stay in the house alone, could she?
You’re not letting some asshole run you from your home, Ash. What if they never catch him? Are you going to stay away forever? She’d need to pay Luis a little extra for a while and have him keep a closer eye on her house. And she’d start asking around immediately if anyone had puppies for adoption. Yes, and she’d stop by the hardware store and buy a couple more shovels.
That bastard comes anywhere near me, he’ll get another taste of Mary’s lamb! Thank goodness she’d left her giant shovel propped against the palm tree.
She slipped from bed and made her way down the hall, through the living room into her kitchen, feeling groggy as hell. The back door leading to the beach had been left unlocked. Hadn’t she locked it? Then she noticed that scent again. It was sweet and spicy; she couldn’t put her finger on it. Where the heck was it coming from?
She sniffed her way back into the living room. Chills spread over her body when the smell became stronger with each step closer to her bedroom.
“Santa Maria.” She stared at the giant indentation left on her bed next to where she’d been lying. She picked up the pillow and inhaled. The potent scent permeated her brain.
Wow. That smells so amaz—
Wait.
Her heart raced and a surge of icy, cold tingles violently exploded over her body. The dream. This was his smell from the dream.
Unable to hold her own weight, she sat on the bed hugging the pillow.
“Crap.” It wasn’t a man who’d been in her house. It was… Death.
He’s finally come for you, Ash. Just like you dreamed he would.
Shockingly, a dark, dark piece of her welcomed him.
Seven
The moment Máax submersed his body into the tepid, salty waves, that tightness in his chest and that carnal longing eased just enough to allow him to think again.
He didn’t know if it was the result of meeting his mate, centuries of near isolation, or being without a visible form, but the strange sensation deep within him seemed to be growing. It was a peculiar ache, like a hunger that only felt sated in the presence of Ashli. He hoped it would abate after this mission w
as over and his sister washed away any and all memories of Ashli from his mind. After all, undoing the past—well, his past—wasn’t exactly feasible, or better said, wasn’t what he wanted. Plainly put, if he were given the chance to repeat history, his history, he would. Just like right now. He would still be here trying to save this Ashli woman and the planet from its impending doom simply because it was the right thing to do. And perhaps, because a tiny piece of him believed that following his conscience would lead to salvation.
Some day.
But for now, he felt content knowing that each violation of the sacred laws had been for a worthy cause. For that, he was the outcast. For that, he was the one No One Speaks Of. Even his name was a symbol of his sacrifices. Máax literally meant “Who?” in Mayan. He’d been called it for so long that he sometimes forgot he once had another name: Maat, which meant “truth” or “justice” in Egyptian. They had been the first civilization to truly embrace the concept and named it after him. Of course, Cimil changed the historical records and made Maat a woman. “Truth has to be female because men are lying, cheating pigs!” she’d said. He supposed, at the time, it had something to do with Roberto, but whatever. He was Máax now, the god of… nothing. Invisible.
He dragged himself from the water and squeezed the saltwater from his long hair. He glanced down at his body and noted a film of fine sand and salt sticking to him. “Hell.” He didn’t normally swim during the day for this very reason. He hoped no one was watching.
Instantly sensing he was wildly wrong, he scanned the surroundings. “Fuck.” There, hiding in the brush was Ashli, her wild mane of long black curls blowing in the wind. She was looking right at him.
Her catlike eyes opened up like two giant hazel-green orbs before she popped up from her hiding place and started running for her life.
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