Jewel of Atlantis

by Gena Showalter

  I want forever with him, she thought dazedly. Her taste of freedom today had broken something inside her. An acceptance, a passiveness. She deserved a life all her own, a life of love and happiness. Different she might be, but she possessed a very human heart. She wanted Gray in her life now and always. Wanted to strip him down and welcome him inside her body, over and over, night after night, their limbs tangled together.

  He wanted only tonight.

  "What do you feel?" Gray asked her, the words a whispered caress. "How does being in my arms make you feel?"

  "Fire. I feel like I'm burning all over."

  "That's good. Real good." His eyes were liquid silver, alive with...something she was almost afraid to name. It was a look she'd never seen from him, in her visions or in reality, almost brutally tender.

  She moved her palms to his chest, placing one over his heart. His heartbeat thundered, strong if a little offbeat. Fast.

  "You're begging to be kissed, sweetheart, you know that, don't you? But we can't. If I kiss you, I won't be able to stop. You're a hell of a distraction, and even though these people think I'm a god, I can't afford to be distracted in here." His hand kneaded the back of her neck. "No one else has ever smelled like you, like moonlight and storms."

  "You said I couldn't go with you, Gray, but maybe...maybe you can stay here." She tightened her grip on him, her cheek nuzzling his. "Stay here with me."

  His eyelids fell to half-mast, and his lips traced her jawline, his tongue flicking out in hot, determined strokes. "I can't. OBI will send in another agent, perhaps more, and those men will die or kill the people here. I want you, Jewel. I do. More than I've ever wanted another woman, but I will leave you. No matter what happens, I'm going home. Never let yourself think otherwise."

  There was pure honesty in his voice, a bone-deep conviction. He didn't harbor a single doubt about his words; he believed them with his whole heart. If she allowed him, he would kiss her, perhaps make love with her tonight, but when his mission ended, so did their association.

  They would never see each other again. Never speak with each other.

  That knowledge cut deeper than any knife.

  She'd known he would deny her, of course. The moment she'd spoken, she had known his reply, but hope was a strange, foolish thing.

  Only two options presented themselves. Embrace the time they had together or keep him at a distance. Either way, she would end up with a broken heart. One would leave her with beautiful memories that could destroy her. The other would bring regret, but she would survive.

  "I've been honest with you from the beginning," he said, softening his tone to ease the sting of his previous words.

  "I told you before that you don't have to explain your reasons to me." She tried to mask her hurt, but didn't quite succeed. "I'm very aware of what you're like."

  He studied her face. Whatever he saw in her expression angered him because he scowled, grabbed her hand, and hauled her back to the table. His scowl remained as he signaled for two more drinks. He didn't speak until they arrived and the server disappeared.

  News of Gray's presence must have spread, because the bar filled with centaurs and sirens, eating away at the space. Every few seconds, someone fingered his hair or caressed his shoulder. For the most part, he ignored them.

  "What do you mean, you know what I'm like?" He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward while she sipped at the ice-cold sweetness. "And before you remind me that I said we can't stay here much longer, answer my question."

  She met his gaze dead on, eyes narrowed, blood surging with her own sense of growing fury. "You get rid of your women very quickly."

  "That's a lie, honey. I don't do one-night stands."

  "Not in your mind, no. You keep women around for a while, but you never give more of yourself than the barest glimmer. The moment they start to get close to you, you leave them."

  Gray's nostrils flared. His last girlfriend had lasted six months. Six months of monogamy and commitment. He'd liked her, had enjoyed spending time with her...but the night she told him she loved him was the last night he spent with her, he realized.

  He blinked, doing a quick mental replay of his other girlfriends. Goddamn it, Jewel was right. In the beginning, his last girlfriend had been content to see him the few days out of the month he was home and talk to him sparingly on the phone. They'd had a great sex life, one where they both found enjoyment. Then she'd started hinting that she wanted more. More of his time, more of him. She'd begun leaving clothing at his house. The shit exploded, however, when he found tampons in his medicine cabinet. Tampons, for God's sake. It had only been at that moment, as he stared at the feminine products, that he'd realized he was in a hard-core relationship.

  He'd sweated for a couple days, but hadn't stopped seeing her. He'd wondered, though, why he felt no compulsion to tell her about his life. And why he hadn't wanted to introduce her to his family. If he had, maybe the "I love you" thing wouldn't have sent him flinging over the edge.

  He hated one-night stands, or so he'd always told himself. Basically, that was all he'd ever had. One-night stands that lasted several months. He'd never told a girlfriend he loved her, never lived with a woman, either. Never told a woman about his life, his job, or his family. He shook his head in disbelief.

  It wasn't like he wanted to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life. He actually liked the idea of marriage, children, and happily ever after. So what was the problem? Why did he refuse to allow himself to fall in love?

  Only one answer sprang to mind. He hadn't met the right woman.

  He frowned, considering the validity of that thought. If that disgusting cliche was true, it would mean there was only one person, one true love, for everyone. His dad and mom, he'd thought, had been soul mates. Then his mom died, and though his dad remained single for a long time afterward, he had found another woman--one he loved more than he'd ever loved Gray's mom.

  Gray didn't resent his stepmom, Francis, for that, but it had rocked his views of love. Was he waiting for a deeper connection than he'd had with any of his women? Had he somehow known he couldn't get it from them? Had his dreams of Jewel ruined him for anyone else, because he'd known deep down what she would be to him?

  Yes, roared inside his mind. He quickly stamped it down, one of the most difficult things he'd ever done. They were from two different worlds, and he could never let himself forget that. Despite his dreams of her, despite her visions of him, they were not destined to be together. They couldn't be. There were just too many complications.

  He couldn't deny that he wanted her, though. God, did he want her. Bad. She fired his blood, made him hot and hungry. Made him sweat, willing to beg for it. Made his hormones surge. For her. Only her.

  Only Jewel seemed to excite him now and the knowledge mocked his previous denial of their connection. Her kindness continually rocked him. Her smile continually brightened him. He was more aware of her than he ever had been of another. He wanted to protect and coddle her. He wanted to possess her, brand her.

  He wanted to keep her.

  Gray scrubbed a hand down his face. Fuck, shit, damn. He wanted to keep her with him, now. Always. He wanted to wrap himself around her until he was all she knew. The most primitive part of him demanded he mark her with his essence so she'd never forgot exactly which man she belonged to. So every man would know who she belonged to.

  No. No. He wouldn't allow that to mean more than a few nights of pleasure. He'd have her--there would be no stopping that, he realized that now, but he wouldn't keep her. Tonight, he would claim her body, satisfy the hunger that ravaged them both, and purge her from his system.

  "It's getting late," he bit out. "And it's too crowded in here." The thought of having her was already exciting him, heating his blood and consuming his senses. On the dance floor, he'd been close to coming in his pants like a teenager. She'd felt so damn good, a perfect fit against him. God knew how much better she'd feel naked, under him, her legs wrapped
around his waist. "We should go."

  She lifted her glass and drained the contents. He dropped several drachmas on the tabletop, then stood, Jewel following suit. He didn't dare touch her right now. He wanted her too much and his control teetered precariously on total annihilation.

  Out of habit, his gaze searched for menacing movements and creeping shadows as he stalked to the door. Since joining OBI, he'd lived his life that way, always searching for those who meant him harm. The proclivity had saved him on several occasions.

  "Return whenever you wish," someone called.

  "I'll make a sacrifice in your honor," someone else shouted.

  Outside, he kept his gaze intent as he scanned the empty street. Night had fallen completely. Stone torches glowed from jagged walls.

  "The inn is over there," Jewel said, pointing to a building that looked more like a stable than a hotel.

  He would have preferred a bed of silk and satin for his first time with Jewel, but he'd take whatever he could get. Besides, he thought hopefully, maybe it wasn't as primitive on the inside as he'd feared.

  Wrong.

  As he stepped over the threshold, his boots sank into a thick layer of hay. The scent of sweat and animal enveloped him. An aging male centaur with a long silver beard manned the area.

  "I'd like a room," Gray told him, sliding the last of his drachmas over the scarred wood surface that separated them.

  "You're Adonis," the man gasped. "They said you had come, but I didn't believe them. I beg forgiveness for my doubt."

  Gray nodded. Because really, what else could he do?

  His money was slid back to him. "It is my greatest honor to house you, great lord. Please, please. Follow me. If you have need of anything, you have only to ask and I will personally see that it is yours. If you wish a morning ride, I will gladly seat you on my own back."

  The centaur showed them to a large, cozy room. There was an actual bed, complete with soft blue sheets. There was a bathing pool and enough pillows strewn across the floor to use as a trampoline.

  "You may leave us," he said, staying in character.

  "As you wish." The centaur backed out of the room, bowing low. "Thank you, sweet lord. Thank you."

  Jewel's gaze shifted nervously from Gray to the bed, to the pool, to Gray again. He looked her up and down, imagining his hands everywhere he looked.

  She gulped. "Are we going to bed now?"

  Instead of answering, he said, his voice rough with the force of his need, "Why don't you take a bath here, while I search the perimeter." He needed to map an escape route, just in case, and she needed time alone. If her sudden nervousness was any indication, she knew what was going to happen, wanted it, but needed time to accept.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  JEWEL SOAKED in the bathing pool, luxuriating in the sweet scent of the water. Orchid oil had been poured inside, softening her skin. The air around her was cool, but the water was hot, and the two made an intoxicating combination. She scrubbed from head to toe, washing away the trials of the last few days.

  Her gaze continued to shift nervously to the side. She'd placed a screen in front of the pool, so Gray wouldn't be able to see her if he entered. Still...she sank deeper into the water, the liquid lapping up to her neck. A part of her was afraid he wouldn't like what he saw, but another part of her, the wildest part, suspected he'd find her sensually beautiful. Irresistible. He'd take her in his arms--but would she know what to do? Would she please him?

  Before he'd left, there had been an intense heat blazing in his eyes. He'd looked at her, his gaze lingering on her breasts and between her legs. She'd felt that same ache she always felt whenever he watched her. Where nothing else mattered but Gray, his voice, his touch.

  That ache plagued her now. Biting her lower lip, she skimmed a hand down her breasts and her nipples hardened. Her fingers lowered, slipping over her oil-slicked stomach, the same way she'd seen Gray touch other women. Her fingers glided back up and circled her nipples. A shiver raced through her.

  Her gaze once again darted to the screen. She'd hear him if he came in; there was no reason to worry.

  "Gray," she groaned, closing her eyes and picturing the sensual planes of his face. She'd seen him do other things, as well...things that had always fascinated her. She kneaded her breasts, pretending it was Gray's hands touching her. Her blood heated, and she gasped in a choppy puff of air.

  I'll die if I don't touch you, he said inside her mind.

  Her hands trailed down her stomach again, stopping at the small triangle of hair between her legs. What would Gray do to her if he were here? Slowly her hands moved lower. He'd touch her...right...there. She gasped as a shaft of pure pleasure struck her. Her teeth bit more sharply into her lip, and she moved her fingers again, circling this time, slowly, slowly.

  She moaned. In her mind, she saw Gray kissing his way up her body. Kissing her behind her knees. Kissing her inner thighs. And licking his way between her legs, his tongue exactly where her fingers moved.

  "Ahh," she cried, arching her hips. The water lapped at the sides of the pool, then changed directions and hit her sides, caressing her skin like waves caressing a beach. While she imagined his mouth devouring her, she also pictured his fingers slipping and sliding up her body, pinching her nipples. His tongue circled faster, licking and sucking at her.

  "Oh, gods," she groaned. The pleasure was building, already so intense she verged on insanity. "Gray," she whispered. "Gray."

  GRAY STRODE DOWN THE HALL, headed toward his room, intent on finding Jewel and at last finishing what they'd started. He'd given her time to get used to the idea, given her time to calm and accept.

  That time was over.

  After he'd left her, he'd found an escape route, then a place to bathe. His hair was still damp, his robe clinging to his moist skin. Soon he would--

  An image of him and Jewel flashed through his mind, and he stopped abruptly, boot raised midair. She was naked, splayed out in a bathing pool, and he was on top of her, between her legs, pleasuring her with his mouth, drinking in her sweet essence.

  Instantly his body went rock hard, desire more intense than anything he'd ever experienced rushing through him. He nearly doubled over from the force of it. He could almost taste her in his mouth, and he knew he'd never tasted anything sweeter, hotter. He could almost feel her oil-slick skin beneath his hands, and he knew he'd never felt anything so soft.

  In his mind, he glanced up at her. I'll die if I don't touch you. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. Inky strands of hair floated around her, and her skin was flushed, a bouquet of strawberries, peaches and cream.

  He wanted to eat her up.

  One of her hands was gripping the side of the pool, the other was tangled in his hair. He'd never seen anything more erotic.

  Alone in the hallway, he leaned against the wall. A sheen of sweat broke over him, dripping from his temples. His lips pulled taut.

  "Holy shit," he growled. The vision in his mind was so real, it was like he really was there. He could actually hear her moan his name. She arched her hips, and his erection jerked. He rubbed a hand down the long, hard length of himself, wishing it were her hand. Her mouth.

  He had to get inside her. In the vision, in reality, it didn't matter. He had to get inside her. Had to...get inside...her.

  Gritting his teeth against the pain of his arousal, he stalked down the hall. His fists clenched as he entered the room and shut the door behind him, his eyes searching for her. She was nowhere to be seen, but he could hear the sound of her breathing, shallow and erratic. There was a screen in front of the bathing pool, and he strode toward it without a word.

  When he rounded the screen, he jerked to a halt. Sucked in a breath. Nearly came. There she was, splayed out in the water, just like in his vision, her hand between her legs. Her hips were arching, her face glowing with her pleasure. Her nipples were pink and hard and his mouth watered for them. Steam wafted around her, c
reating a cloudy haze.

  She was on the verge of orgasm. But he didn't want her to come without him, nor did he want to come without her. He moved to the edge of the pool, his every nerve on alert, his every cell heating.

  "Jewel," he whispered brokenly.

  Her eyes slowly opened. "Gray," she said, and she didn't seem surprised or embarrassed to find him there. Her arousal had reached the point of complete consumption. It was all she could think about, all she could feel. "What's happening to me?"

  "You need a man. You need me."

  "Yes," she said. "Yes. Please."

  He jerked off his robe and tore off his military fatigues, his movements clipped and quick, desperate. He unstrapped the blades from his wrists, waist and ankles and dropped them to the floor with a thump. He should have forgone the arsenal after his bath, but hadn't. Now he cursed himself for the time it took to remove them, time he could be touching Jewel.

  Finally he was naked, his erection jutting forward as he stepped into the water, liquid heat swallowing his ankles. He sank as though in a dream. Her gaze raked over him, and she moaned, arched her hips, her own fingers still working at her clitoris.

  The time had come.

  No more thinking about it, no more wondering if it was the right decision. No more worrying about their different worlds. All that mattered was the here and now. All that mattered was being with Jewel, if only for a little while.

  He reached her, unable to go another second without her in his arms. He gripped her hand, her pleasure-giving hand, and placed it at the side of the pool. Next he spread her legs and moved between them. He didn't enter her, though. No, he wanted to savor her first. Wanted to touch and taste her like he had in his vision.

  But everything inside him screamed to rush, to take her now and take her hard.

  "Were you thinking about me when you touched yourself?" he asked, amazed he could even get the words out. He was that hungry for her.

  She nodded.

  "What did you see in your mind?"

  "Your mouth," she whispered, "tasting me."

  "Here?" His fingers circled her clitoris, and she gasped. He raised her pelvis, bent his head and licked her, sliding his thumb down and pressing it against her core. Her sweet, sweet taste tantalized him.