Eros Island

by Lucinda Betts, Dawn Thompson

  Jack tossed off lingering droplets of rain along with his expensive coat. The gusty storm winds outside had restyled his thick mop of silvery hair, giving him an impish air. “I couldn’t wait one more minute to see it. When you told me he was done, I had to come right over.”

  Dani sighed. She knew he’d been dying for a peek. She never let anyone see a piece until it was finished. Might as well get that crucial first examination over with.

  Stopping a few feet away from the statue, Jack placed his hands on his hips. His gaze swept head to foot, then back again. “So this is my expensive block of Grecian marble.”

  Dani pressed a hand against her nervous stomach to quiet her nerves. “You know damn well it is—or was.” Unveiling a new work was like stripping herself naked for flagellation. Everything in her soul was revealed. Other than the rain beating against the windowpanes, there wasn’t a sound in the studio.

  Silence stretched on, stretching her nerves along with it.

  “Well?”

  Jack practically sparked with excitement. “My God, this is one of the most impressive pieces of sculpture I’ve ever seen.”

  Suddenly awash in feelings she couldn’t explain, Dani stammered, “You like him?”

  The flash of straight white teeth revealed boyish dimples on either side of Jack’s mouth. “He’s absolutely fucklicious.” He gave her a quick hug. “I don’t blame you one bit for pawing all over him. You capture the male physique so beautifully, my dear. I’d just love to have a bite out of that nice round ass.”

  Fucklicious. Jack Wilde’s stamp of approval on any man he deemed attractive enough to sleep with.

  Control returned. The muscles in Dani’s gut thankfully unclenched. “Back off, buddy.” She grinned. “I had him first.”

  Jack grinned and playfully eyed the statue, giving ample study to the arresting cock. “Your hands have been over every inch, I’m sure.”

  Heat crept up into Dani’s cheeks. “Just being thorough in my work.”

  He laughed. “He’s the best you’ve ever done.”

  Reeling in the aftermath of his praise, Dani felt her lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Then you’re pleased with your investment?”

  Jack Wilde nodded. “When I saw this piece of raw marble in Athens, I knew there was only one sculptor who would know how to bring out its true form.” Their gazes caught and held. “You have succeeded brilliantly.” He clapped his hands in delight. “Bravo.”

  “Thank you.” A pause. “I needed to hear that.”

  “You’ve certainly earned the praise.” Jack walked around the statue, examining it again from all angles. “The realism is amazing. Looks like he’s going to step down from that pedestal any second now.”

  God, I wish he would.

  “So tell me the identity of your inspiration. Surely he is a great man.”

  A sexy beast with bronzed skin and compelling eyes flashed across Dani’s mind-screen. Nipples peaking under the silky material of her bra, her inner muscles contracted with raw lust. The dampness between her thighs increased.

  “Not a man. A god.”

  “Fabulous!” Jack pressed his hands together as if about to have a heavenly consultation. “Greek or Roman?”

  “Greek, of course. It’s Herakles.”

  Jack chuckled. “An absolutely astonishing interpretation in the style of the old masters.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “My heart is about to burst with excitement. I knew you would do something wonderful, but not this fabulous! Allow me to say your talent for sculpture is unmatched in this present day. Marble is certainly your medium. It’s like the stone speaks through you.”

  Dani couldn’t help smiling. That was Jack. Laying it on with a trowel. “The stone spoke for itself,” she answered honestly. “When you told me the block came from the same quarry that most likely gave birth to some of the greatest sculptures in Greek history, how could I not be inspired to create a god?”

  “And fabulously so. Were he alive, your Herakles would personify the Greek ideal of a pure and perfect beauty.” Jack turned around to study her, admiration in his gaze. “I really didn’t think you’d be able to finish it on schedule after Lucien—” Realizing his slip, he cut off his words.

  The first unpleasant shock of the evening.

  Spine stiffening, Dani cut a sharp look at her friend. Mention of Lucien struck like a slap across the face. Pleasure at her accomplishment vanished. Emotion tightened her throat, threatening to squeeze off her air.

  A thousand conflicting feelings converged in the intersection of her mind, threatening to jam up in a jumbled wreck. The elation and passion of her work mashed against the anguish and hurt of losing her husband to another woman. She’d been so busy sculpting her dream man that she hadn’t even noticed the one she’d married slipping away until it was too late.

  Thoughts churning in her mind, Dani rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. I made my choice and Lucien made his. The pain of her husband’s rejection hadn’t killed her. If nothing else, it had only driven her all the harder to succeed.

  But it didn’t lessen the hurt one little bit.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack started to say. “I shouldn’t have mentioned Lucien. Tonight’s your triumph.”

  Swallowing hard, Dani sighed. “Marble doesn’t lie to me, Jack.” The words grated out between her teeth. “Marble doesn’t fuck my assistant. And marble certainly doesn’t tell me it’s walking out right when I’m in the middle of creating my most important piece.” No, marble had never deceived her. What she’d found in its heart had always been true.

  In it she’d place her fragile trust. In it she would find solace. Through it she would rebuild her fragmented psyche.

  Jack reached out, brushing her wayward bangs off her forehead. “I’ve always thought Lucien was a rat bastard.” His palm settled on her cheek, warm and reassuring. “He wasn’t good enough for you, honey.”

  Hungering for the touch of real male flesh, Dani covered her friend’s hand with hers. “Thanks, Jack.” She swallowed, attempting to tamp down the need simmering under her skin. She hadn’t had sex in over a year. Desperation practically dripped off her.

  But there wasn’t the slightest hint of desire in Jack Wilde’s gaze. Only concern for a friend. All she’d ever be to him was a friend. Women didn’t turn him on.

  “If there’s anything I can do—” he started to say.

  Dani suddenly became aware he’d spoken. Her mind jerked back from half-finished thoughts. She gulped a quick breath. Sexual tension congealed, threatening to clog every artery in her body and smother her. Her knees trembled, threatening collapse. She didn’t need sympathy. She needed a hard cock.

  Too damn bad she was shit out of luck.

  Letting his hand go, she stepped away from him and forced a smile. “I’m all right, Jack.” The lie slipped out easily.

  No reason to worry him. Again.

  2

  A ttempting to quell the erotic energy threatening to overload her body’s circuits, Dani walked around her studio. She stopped in front of a counter spanning the entire face of one far wall. All her tools were set out in neat rows, silent for the first time in years.

  Jack caught her melancholy. “Everything okay, Danicia?”

  No. Everything wasn’t. “Yeah.” Heart pounding, her head ached. “I’m fine.”

  Right. Define fine, she thought. Fucked-up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional. Yep. Definitely fit her to a “T.”

  Dani left the counter behind, the tools untouched. Her steps carried her back to the center of her studio. To her brilliant stone god. Herakles drew her like a magnet. Lit by a set of overhead lights, no inch of him was spared from viewing.

  A subtle tremor shimmied through her when she recalled the raw carnal force she always felt emanating from it. Just the thought of touching the statue again made her senses hum. “I can’t believe he’s finished. It seems like I just started yesterday.”

  Jack gave a wry smile, half in sympathy, half
in relief. “You’ve put in a long and hard commitment.” Art was his passion. He revered those with talent, nurturing the fragile vision—and emotions—of those who could create what he himself could not.

  Dani was shaking all over, and her jaw tightened. Helplessly, numbly, she stood in the shadow of Herakles and trembled. Finishing a piece always left her feeling let down, like a deflated balloon. “This one’s wrung me dry. I think it’s taken more than sweat out of me. He took my soul.”

  Jack moved to soothe her. “Of course he did. You say that every time you complete a piece. Your last show was excellent, but this will be superb.”

  Dani frowned. She didn’t feel like being mollycoddled. “Don’t rush me, Jack. I’m not quite ready for the public to see him just yet.”

  He waved a hand. “I know, I know. But the excitement of a new piece from Danicia Ryan just overwhelms me.”

  Dani had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “He’ll be ready to go soon,” she promised. “I just want to keep him to myself a little bit longer.”

  Jack waggled a disapproving finger. “Not much longer, my dear. I’m coming Monday with camera in hand to get the photos for the brochures. I’m sure Modern Art Magazine will want to cover this, too, so I’ll give them a call to let them know we’re getting ready to unveil your newest piece.”

  Dani sighed. Jack Wilde was the only man she knew who could get an erection looking at a fine piece of art. Back when she was a starving artist, and too broke to make the rent, Jack had stepped up with an offer to show her work at his gallery. His patronage, as well as his open checkbook, had given Dani her launch as a serious artist. Her sculptures had been displayed in such places as the Smithsonian and the Museum of Modern Art. Collectors all over the world vied to own one of her original pieces.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  Jack tsked, waving a single finger. “Excited,” he corrected. “Since you’ve worked like a demon, why don’t you let me take you to dinner? To celebrate.” He checked his watch. “If I call Anthony’s now, I can still get a table.”

  Dani demurred, glancing down at her torn faded blue cover-alls over a T-shirt. As usual, Jack was elegantly dressed, outfitted in a charcoal suit and white shirt undone at the collar, no tie. She looked like a rag hag, maybe dressed well enough to wash his Porsche. Remaking herself into something presentable to the public eye would take at least two hours.

  “Do you mind if I decline? I’m tired and the only thing I want right now is a long hot shower and a few glasses of wine.”

  Mother hen kicked in. “Agreed. Rest is what you need. I could whip up something here.” Jack gave her a hard look. “Assuming the cupboards aren’t bare.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. Thanks. I couldn’t possibly eat right now.”

  He tsked again. “You have to remember to nourish your body, Dani.” He admonished her like she was a naughty child. “No more neglecting yourself. The stone will last forever. The artist but a brief time.”

  Dani grimaced, grumbling, “Your concern touches me. I think.”

  Jack checked his watch again. “I can still get us in. In an hour we could be digging into a wonderful orange-glazed duck.”

  She begged off. “Some other time, please.” She rubbed at her temples again to add emphasis to her words. “Right now I’d just like the chance to rest.” What she really wanted was a little male companionship. Preferably in naked and sweaty positions.

  Jack sighed in defeat. “I understand. Too soon the spotlight will be on you again. Two years is a long time between shows, but the wait was worth it.” He waggled thick silver brows suggestively. “One look at your virile naked god and eyebrows will raise. Not to mention the price he’ll fetch on the market.” Hand rising, he spread two fingers apart. “I’m going to ask two million, Dani.”

  Tension knotted her shoulders at the mention of such an unbelievable amount. She gave him a long disbelieving look. Surely he couldn’t be serious? Two. Million. Dollars. Even after the gallery fees, a substantial chunk of that would be hers.

  A shudder rippled though her when she realized the implications. She could only stare, wondering if she’d heard right. “You must be kidding?”

  His nostrils flared with glee. “No, babe. We’re going to go for the big dollars.”

  Dani swallowed hard. This was a turn she hadn’t expected. “I didn’t think I could command that high of a fee.”

  “You’ve earned it,” he assured her. “Michelangelo himself could not have sculpted a finer piece. It took him four years to do his David. That you did your Herakles in twenty-four months is a feat I don’t think even he could match.”

  Mind still reeling from the figure he’d dropped so casually, she cleared her throat. “I did have a more cooperative patron. And I didn’t have to stop and paint the Sistine Chapel, either.”

  Jack chuckled in agreement. “True.” A final check of his gold Rolex. “Sure you don’t want a night out? We’ll eat good food, drink too much wine and pass out from the joy of being alive.”

  She nodded. She didn’t feel very joyous or even glad to be alive. Mostly empty. “I’m sure.”

  Jack pecked her cheek. “Have it your way if you must.”

  “I must.”

  “So be it.” With a wink and a whistle, he playfully pretended to take a picture with an imaginary camera. “Good-bye gorgeous. Soon you’re going to be a star.”

  Dani winced. Damn. Soon, too soon, her Herakles would be taken away. Of course the piece had to be sold. Jack Wilde fully expected to recover his investment. More important, her own bank account badly needed replenishing. Lucien had done his best to drain it dry before he left. Not to mention the fact that she’d soon be paying a divorce lawyer.

  Jack practically waltzed across the studio and reclaimed his raincoat. He shrugged it on. “I’ll see you both Monday.”

  He gave a final wave before departing. Back to the whirl of an active social life.

  Envy jabbed. No doubt he’ll have company in his bed tonight. A long sigh escaped her. Alone again. On a Friday night.

  Grappling with disappointment and a loneliness that stung, Dani considered going upstairs, but to what? An empty apartment, and an emptier bed?

  No thanks.

  She lingered, reluctant to abandon her beautiful work to a dark studio. The statue seemed to beckon, calling her back. Come Monday he would belong to the world. Her work—her masterpiece—would no longer be her own.

  Dani climbed back onto the pedestal. She wanted to touch her Herakles again. Feel his hardness under her hands. Just one more time. Before he left her, forever.

  Cool stone warmed under her hands. Earlier sensations returned, triple strength. The pulse beating beneath the marble seemed to synchronize with the rhythm of her heart. The perfect tempo, ascending toward the highest peak of pleasure two beings could share.

  Dani closed her eyes. Her nipples peaked. Erotic images bombarded her from all sides. Desire evidenced itself in the insistent pulse between her legs. Drawn deeper into a twofold link she was barely aware of, she felt the surge of actual response.

  Her body, demanding now, insisted on completion. The stone under her hands felt wholly pliant, wholly yielding. “I wish you were real.”

  A deafening crash of thunder interrupted at the exact moment the words left her lips. A hard gust of wind smacked the walls outside. The lights flickered, weakening, then plunged into darkness. Some untapped psi-force inside her made instant connection. Burrowing down to the roots of her brain, reality was destroyed. The barriers between the fact and fantasy crumbled.

  Eyes adjusting to the unexpected darkness, Dani blinked. Faint currents of color swirled and pulsed, a cascade of electric sensation pouring through her. Pressure throbbed behind her eyes, threatening to blast her skull to pieces.

  Dani screamed. The electricity building around her stabbed harder. Lava-hot spikes dug through her skin.

  Without warning, a flash of liquid flame seared the stone. Vibration
s inside the block intensified. A cataract of effervescence shimmered around it. The pressure grew around her.

  With blinding force, the energy all of a sudden blasted outward. The explosion sent Dani reeling backward. Fighting to keep her balance, she stumbled off the pedestal, landing smack on her ass. Her senses whirled from the mystical energy radiating around the statue.

  And her own skin. A soft sensual glow surrounded her.

  “Holy shit.” Too shocked to be frightened, she examined her illuminated flesh. “I’m lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.”

  Thunder cracked again. Louder. Fiercer. The walls around her and the floor beneath trembled from the force.

  Dazed by the unfamiliar sensations flooding every fiber of her being, Dani didn’t move. She could only watch as particles of energy dissolved, then reformed, the stone melting like wax under hungry flames. Blazing tension vibrated and the glimmering figure of Herakles erupted into glorious animation.

  Silence gripped, a strange waiting stillness. Even the storm outside had quieted, its force seemingly drained away. The supernatural glimmer enveloping Herakles flared bright a final time, then faded into a muted glow. Though the rest of the room seemed blurry and far away, Dani saw him perfectly.

  Every naked inch.

  3

  J aw dropping in astonishment, Dani couldn’t believe what had happened right before her eyes. She just stared. And stared some more.

  The visitor wore not a stitch of clothing. Disheveled hair the color of spun gold brushed his shoulders. A straight nose, fine mouth, and strong jaw completed his face. His presence lent the room an otherworldly spellbinding aura. One word described everything about him.

  Magnificent.

  Dani gulped as though the air was an alien substance. In her struggle to breathe, blood pounded in her veins, dizzying her. Perspiration dotted her brow. Liquid fire trickled down her spine. Carnal hunger throbbed between her trembling legs.

  An intense stare bore holes right through her. Strangely hued, his eyes were a pure amethyst shade as startling as it was striking. Every inch of her was visually examined in an intimate manner. Approval parted his lips. A brief flash of straight white teeth followed.