Stranger in my Arms

by Rochelle Alers

  Merrick wanted to tell Alex that she didn’t have to ask him to make love to her. Alexandra Cole had bewitched him and unknowingly she possessed what it took to destroy him emotionally.

  Supporting his weight on his elbows, he lowered his head and kissed her. Not a soul-searching, deep passionate kiss, but one better suited for a fragile newborn. He kissed her mouth, the hollow of her scented throat, the curve of her shoulders, venturing lower to her breasts. The flesh between his legs grew heavy, but he didn’t, couldn’t stop until he explored every inch of Alex’s satiny skin. She smelled of fruit, flowers and spice.

  Rachel Singletary had teased him because he’d opted to remain celibate, but she didn’t know that he’d been waiting for the right woman. And he knew Alex was the right woman the first time they’d shared a dance, a kiss. Moving down the length of the large bed, he alternated kissing with flicking his tongue over her belly.

  Alex’s fingers curled into tight fists at her sides as she clenched her teeth. Moans of frustration mingled with the rising desire she was helpless to control. The mat of crisp dark hair covering Merrick’s chest and his marauding mouth threatened to take her beyond herself. She wanted to kiss him the way he was kissing her, her lips and tongue tasting flesh in her journey to communicate wordlessly how much she loved and needed him.

  Her breasts rose and fell heavily as the pulsing at the apex of her thighs increased. “Merrick!” Her hysteria was evident when she screamed his name. Reaching for his head, she attempted to capture his hair, but it was too short for her to secure a grip. He’d spread her legs and his hot breath had become a raging inferno that threatened to incinerate her—body and soul.

  Merrick heard the desperate cry, inhaled her rising passion, knowing if he didn’t take her now it would be over. Reversing his position, he reached for the condom, sat back on his heels and slipped it over his rigid flesh. It was for a brief moment, but he thought he saw fear and indecision in Alex’s eyes as she watched him put on the latex sheath that would prevent an unplanned pregnancy. What he thought he’d glimpsed vanished as she extended her arms, welcoming him into her embrace and into her body.

  Reaching for her hand, Merrick guided it to his sex. “Let’s do this together.”

  Alex’s tiny hand barely fit around his engorged tumescence as she positioned it to the entrance of her femininity. Merrick’s hand covered hers as he eased himself into her body. Flames of desire rose quickly, overlapping her soft moans as he pushed into her; taut flesh stretched with each inch until he was fully sheathed. Then, in a rhythm that was as timeless as the beginning of creation, they offered each other all of themselves, holding nothing back.

  Merrick established a slow, deliberate thrusting as Alex rose to meet him, pinpoints of gold in her eyes darkening with her rising ardor. Anchoring his hands under her hips, he held her fast, increasing the cadence, his hips moving with the velocity and power of a jackhammer. Her gasps and soft moans served to make the fire in his loins more intense.

  He lost himself in the moment and the love flowing from the woman under him, not feeling the bite of her fingernails on his back. What he was aware of was the gurgling sounds coming from her throat that erupted into an unrestrained primal scream that sent him over a precipice wherein he surrendered all he had and was to the woman whom he knew he would love forever. They climaxed simultaneously, experiencing a free fall that made them one with each other.

  They lay entwined, breathing heavily, waiting for their respiration to slow while enjoying the lingering pulsing sensations. Sated, they were loath to move. However, Merrick was forced to when he withdrew from Alex and went to discard the condom.

  When he returned to the bed, he found her asleep, her face still flushed with passion. He lay beside her and within minutes Morpheus claimed him as they shared siesta for the first time.

  Alex sat at a dressing table applying a coat of orange color to her lips. She and Merrick were scheduled to leave for Professor Rivera’s soiree in fifteen minutes.

  She hadn’t made it a habit to wear makeup to the art institute, so she was certain the added color to her face and the dress would shock a few of her classmates. She’d decided to wear a minishift in a soft tangerine-orange with white orchids, reminiscent of a Japanese kimono with an empire waist and a halter top.

  She’d come to the Four Seasons Hotel Thursday afternoon and left the hotel once to go to a nearby boutique and hair salon; she had her hair cut into a short and very becoming feathery style that flattered her round face.

  She and Merrick shared brunch on the balcony outside their room that overlooked the courtyard and dined on exquisite Mediterranean cuisine at the hotel’s elegant restaurant, Reforma 500. Earlier that afternoon she’d taken advantage of the services at the hotel’s spa.

  When she and Merrick weren’t in bed sleeping or making love, she pulled out her books and studied for the upcoming exam. He’d surprised her when he offered to test her on her knowledge of the Mayans and their incredibly complex advanced society.

  She’d asked him about the scar on his back and his response had been, “Oh, that. It was an accident.” She didn’t believe his glib explanation but decided not to pry. Their relationship was much too new to coerce each other to divulge what they deemed personal. And not once did Alex forget that what she shared with Merrick was tenuous at best. It was he who wanted a relationship that would go on for perpetuity, while she’d asked for right now.

  It was ironic how she’d changed. At twenty-two she wanted to marry her art history instructor, and now at twenty-nine she was willing to become a participant in a physical relationship that wouldn’t result in a commitment.

  Movement behind her caught her attention. She smiled when Merrick leaned over to press a kiss on the nape of her neck. He’d elected to wear a charcoal-gray suit in a tropical linen fabric with a pale gray finely woven shirt with a banded collar.

  “You look and smell wonderful.” She wore a perfume with sensual musk and woodsy notes.

  Her smile widened. “Gracias, mi querido.”

  He straightened, unable to believe Alex could improve on perfection. Her short hairstyle and youthful-looking face made him feel as if he were robbing the cradle, when there was only a six-year difference in their ages.

  She rose gracefully from the stool and reached for his hand. “I’m ready.”

  His gaze lingered on her smoky lids and lush mouth with the glistening lip color. There was a mysterious gleam in her eyes that made him want to strip her naked and take her back to bed. But he knew that wasn’t possible because attendance at her professor’s house was mandatory.

  Merrick thought that after making love to her once he’d be able to rid himself of strong physical urges that came when he least expected. However, having her within arm’s reach hadn’t permitted him to exorcise the licentious images of what he wanted to do with Alexandra Cole.

  What had shocked Merrick was that her libido matched his, and he wanted to demonstrate other positions and techniques, but decided to wait for another time; perhaps when he returned to Mexico she would feel more comfortable with other than traditional lovemaking.

  Holding her hand, he led her out of the bathroom. She gathered her purse and a silk shawl in a pale shade that matched her silk-covered sling backs. They took the curving staircase instead of the elevator to the opulent lobby, not seeing the surreptitious glances directed at them.

  The taxi Merrick had requested had arrived. He helped Alex into the vehicle, then ducked his head and sat beside her. He gave the driver the address before he settled back to enjoy the ride to Coyoacán and the delicate body beside him.

  Hernando Rivera’s home was in an area with a number of museums and art galleries and was within walking distance of the homes of several noted deceased inhabitants: Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera and Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky.

  Alex walked into a brightly-lit courtyard while Merrick lingered behind to pay their driver. Long tables groaned with food and a portable
bar was doing a brisk business, as evidenced by the number of people milling around holding glasses of tequila cocktails. Mariachi music blaring from hidden speakers added to the festive mood.

  Moira came over to greet her. A black tank dress in a Lycra fabric hugged her lithe figure like a second skin while a pair of four-inch strappy sandals put her at the six-foot mark. Her pale hair was piled atop her head in tousled, sensual disarray.

  “Where’s your gorgeous friend?” she whispered.

  Alex couldn’t stop the wave of heat stealing across her face. “He’ll be here.”

  Moira took a deep swallow of her drink. “Now he’s someone I could get my freak on with.” She’d had one too many margaritas to see Alex’s scowl. “But I know he’s off-limits, because I’d never make a play for a friend’s man.”

  Forcing a smile that she definitely did not feel, Alex said, “That’s good to know.”

  “Señorita Morris, I’m honored you’ve graced me with your presence.”

  Alex turned to find her host grinning at her. He’d forgone his conservative black suits for a white poet’s shirt with matching linen slacks and tan sandals. She didn’t know why, but he reminded her of cartoons in which the cat had swallowed a bird. “But, Professor Rivera, wasn’t it you that said attendance is mandatory?”

  He waved a hand, his dark gaze moving slowly from her face to her bare brown legs and her feet in the light-colored heels, then back again to her feathery hairstyle. “I always tell my students that, but there is no way I can enforce that rule. Field visits yes, my home no. Please come into the house to see the exhibit before you get something to eat and drink.”

  “Thank you, but I’d like to wait for my guest.”

  His black eyebrows lifted, reminding her of hash marks of birds in flight. “You came with someone?”

  Alex wanted to laugh when she saw his stunned expression. “Yes, I did.” The confirmation had barely left her lips when she detected the scent of Merrick’s cologne. Turning, she smiled at him and extended her hand. “Darling, I’d like for you to meet Professor Rivera, who teaches design and art of ancient cultures. Professor Rivera, Merrick Grayslake. Merrick, Professor Hernando Rivera.” The two men exchanged polite greetings and handshakes.

  Hernando, having recovered from seeing Alexandra Morris in a dress that revealed more flesh than he’d ever seen on her, shifted his gaze to the tall man with her. “Grayslake,” he said softly. “Are you Yaqui?”

  A muscle jumped in Merrick’s jaw. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You speak Mexican Spanish and your features are a blend of African, Yaqui and European. I suggest you explore your roots. I’m sure you didn’t come to engage in an anthropological discussion. Come see the exhibit, then eat and drink.”

  Alex felt the muscles in Merrick’s arm bunch up under his jacket’s sleeve. If her teacher had been able to identify Merrick’s racial designation from looking at him, then there was no doubt he’d spoken the truth.

  To say the professor was a brilliant art expert and anthropologist was an understatement. The first day of class he had everyone stand up and introduce themselves, and within minutes he’d identified their Spanish dialect. Alex had held her breath when he announced that based on her speech patterns and physical looks she was of African and Cuban ancestry. He’d astounded her with his accuracy, and in the following weeks Professor Rivera used his vast knowledge to subjugate and intimidate any student who attempted to challenge him.

  Those who came to class unprepared were forced to undergo a tongue-lashing that usually went on for at least ten minutes before they were asked to leave and not return until they’d completed the assignment. The trustees of the universidad permitted Professor Hernando Rivera to conduct his classes like a despot because museums and art institutes the world over were vying for his attention.

  They were shown into a room in Hernando’s house that doubled as an art gallery. Alex couldn’t believe the artifacts on display targeted for donations to local museums. There were fragile wooden, leather and clay masks from Puebla, Guerrero and Michoacan, a funerary mask from Teotihuacán and exquisite silver pieces from Oaxaca. The piece that captivated her was a Zapotec jade bat-god pendant. She thanked Hernando for permitting her to see the priceless artifacts, then returned to the courtyard with Merrick.

  Smiling up at him, she noted his solemn expression. “It’s over, darling.”

  He lifted his eyebrows as he met her amused gaze. “It really wasn’t that bad. I believe hanging out with you has given me a healthy respect for art.”

  “Does this mean you’re going with me to the museum tomorrow?”

  “No, it doesn’t. We have one more day together, and I don’t intend to spend it in a museum.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “What have you planned?”

  A knowing smile softened his firm mouth. “We’re going to spend the day in bed.”

  Alex squeezed his hand. “You keep it up and I won’t be able to walk.”

  Leaning down, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “I said nothing about making love, but if that’s what you want I’m willing to accommodate you, because for some reason I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Glotón.”

  “No lie,” he drawled, grinning. “Now let’s get something to eat and drink so that we can appear socially acceptable, then blow this joint.”

  Vertical lines appeared between her eyes. “I’m not ready to go back to the hotel.”

  Merrick gave her a long, penetrating look. “Where do you want to go?”

  “The others are going to a club near the Zona Rosa. If you don’t want to go, then I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

  “If you think I’m going to let you out of my sight looking like you do, then you’re crazier than I am.”

  She glanced down at her dress. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”

  Pulling her closer, he dropped a kiss on her fragrant hair. “There’s nothing wrong, baby. You look delicious.”

  She gave him her trademark dimpled smile. “Gracias, mi amor.”

  Merrick returned her smile. “De nada, mi querida.”

  Chapter 10

  Merrick sat in the corner of a noisy, crowded club with flashing colored lights watching Alex dance. He’d begun drinking beer, but after the second bottle he switched to water. At first he’d found the pumping baseline beats infectious, but after three hours of nonstop music and the differing scents of cologne and perfume on sweaty bodies he was ready to find the nearest exit.

  Resting an elbow on the small table, he cradled his chin on his fist. He hadn’t flown to Mexico to see Alex and then share her with people she saw every day. But seeing her laughing and dancing tempered his selfishness because it was he, not some other man, who would share her passion.

  Merrick had tried and failed to analyze what it was about Michael Kirkland’s cousin that affected him wherein he was now willing to forsake his reclusive lifestyle to consider returning to the CIA as a bureaucrat. Instead of being briefed for covert missions he would become a trainer as an intelligence research training specialist. He’d had experience when he facilitated advanced training courses at Quantico for DEA agents. Yes, he would go back as an intelligence training specialist, secure his relationship with Alex and retire.

  The driving rhythms slowed to a seductive ballad and Merrick stood up when he spied Alex coming in his direction. Reaching for her purse and shawl, he took several steps and curved an arm around her waist.

  Her dewy face shimmered like brown velvet under the psychedelic lights. “Dance with me, Merrick.”

  He shook his head. “Not now, querida. We’ll dance together at the hotel.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What’s the matter?”

  Pulling her closer, he shouldered his way through the throng on the dance floor. “The matter is I was ready to leave two hours ago.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t want to stop you from enjoying yourself, Ali.”<
br />
  “I enjoy myself even when I’m not dancing.”

  “What’s going to happen once you start your career?”

  “That shouldn’t change anything. I’m not going to be working 24/7. Speaking of careers, I went online last week and applied for a position with the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s northeast region. And if I’m hired, I’ll be responsible for historic districts in New York, New Jersey, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Delaware, Massachusetts and Maine.”

  Merrick noticed she hadn’t mentioned any state south of Delaware. “Do you plan to relocate?”

  “No. I like living in the D.C. area, and I love my condo. There may be a problem when I have to do the fieldwork.”

  “What, Ali?”

  “There’s a family mandate that I’m not permitted to take a commercial aircraft.” She told him about how her uncle Martin’s daughter had become a kidnapping victim forty years before, and since that time anyone who claimed Cole blood or married into the family was prohibited from flying on commercial carriers.

  Merrick wanted to tell Alex that making arrangements to travel up and down the eastern seaboard was the least of her worries. Hadn’t she realized she was a wealthy woman, and what would’ve become prohibitive for the normal working-class person was readily available to her?

  “If you’re hired, then how are you going to travel?”

  “If I’m not able to secure a seat on the ColeDiz G4, then it will have to be a private jet. The money I spent on hiring private jets I could donate to my favorite charity.”

  They stepped out of the air-cooled club and into the unusually warm winter Mexico City heat that lingered even after the sun had set behind the mountains. All of the upscale shops were air-conditioned, but once anyone stepped outdoors onto the overpopulated streets with the smog and thermal inversion, many found breathing normally difficult.

  Merrick startled Alex when he whistled sharply through his teeth for a taxi. A late-model colorful car skidded to the curb. The driver stepped out, rounded his vehicle and opened the door with the arrogant aplomb of any major city taxi driver. She got in, followed by Merrick. The driver closed the door and then took his seat behind the wheel.