by Sara Daniel
“To new beginnings.” She sipped the cool, citrus tang of the white wine and leaned back on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky. She could almost believe a new beginning and prospects were possible. She’d spent the entire morning painting and hadn’t had to lie once about who she was.
Now she was having a picnic with quite possibly the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. As long as he never learned the truth about her, she could enjoy this mutual seduction and savor a few days of normalcy.
“What cheese do you recommend?” Armando asked, surveying the platter. “I can’t tell what any of these are.”
Fiona set her wine aside to join him in studying the variety before her. She tasted a couple, considering. “Oh, try this one.” The moment she bit into it she wanted to share the experience. “It’s cranberry cheddar. I thought it’d be tart, but it’s actually really sweet.” She lifted another cube off the plate and leaned toward him, pressing it to his lips.
He took the square in his mouth, his tongue darting out and tasting her finger. His dark brown eyes never wavered from her face. “Very sweet.”
Her breath hitched. She let her finger linger on his lower lip, sliding across its fullness, longing to kiss him, afraid of moving too fast and losing herself in the way he made her feel. She picked up her wine glass, drinking deeply instead.
“So tell me something about you. You know all about my painting, and my weird aversions to lifebond rings and tactile experiences. I don’t know anything about you, except you have a real talent for coaxing exquisite food out of the kitchen.”
“Well, that covers the important skills.” He grinned, shifting his bare leg to cover her calf under the edge of her skirt. “What else do you want to know?”
Something she could safely answer if the question bounced back on her. “Favorite color? Any siblings? Favorite way to relax?”
“Bright yellow for a color, which I’m told, by my sisters, gives my skin an unflattering jaundiced cast. My three sisters are all happily lifebonded and have several children, and I’m probably most relaxed when I’m hanging out with them, playing the role of favorite uncle,” he said. He tangled his other leg with hers among the folds of her skirt, warming her more than the sun’s rays.
“That’s lovely,” she whispered, meaning it even as she choked up. Sex scared her, mating terrified her…She couldn’t even wrap her mind around the idea of children.
She studied the fruit platter, selecting an unfamiliar piece and biting into it. “Have you tried this?” She held out the rest of the delicacy for him to taste. A stream of juice trickled down her arm. “It tastes like mango or maybe papaya, but there’s another flavor I can’t quite identify.”
The fruit disappeared into his mouth. “Definitely papaya and mango with a hint of passion fruit,” Armando said decisively. He clasped her wrist in his hand and tracked the trail of juice with his lips all the way to her elbow.
“Ah, how could I forget the passion?” Her arm tingled and her breath caught so hard she could barely speak.
“I won’t let you forget again,” Armando promised, sucking gently along her exposed arm. He teased the sensitive flesh on the inside of her elbow; she had no idea kissing an elbow could reduce a woman to a pile of quivering mush.
But she didn’t want to be a passive receptacle for his passions. She needed to be in control of her passion and her powers. Fiona picked up another piece of fruit and touched it to his lips.
He bit into it, a stream of juice dribbling down his chin. He reached to wipe it away, but she beat him, trailing her lips along his smooth chin and neck, just as he’d done to her arm moments ago.
His Adam’s apple bobbed against her lips, and she smiled. He wanted her. “You want to go skinny-dipping?” she asked.
“Is that what you want?” He leaned back, gazing into her eyes. His hands slid under her shirt. He glided up her stomach and caressed her nipples. Once, twice, then he dropped his hands and brushed his lips across her chin.
Sweet Goddess. She wanted him so badly. She couldn’t think. She could only feel desperate mind-numbing want.
She took a sip of her wine and looked beyond him. She’d made the suggestion without considering the implications. But they had the lake to themselves. The water was clear and inviting. This was the perfect opportunity to act on her dream of being a woman with no powers. “Yes.”
He shot her a sexy smile that melted her insides. Deliberately, he pulled the edge of his T-shirt over his head, revealing a lean, muscled chest with smooth, rich brown skin. He met her gaze again, as he tossed it aside. “Are you still sure?”
“Yes, but you go ahead in the water—if you’re sure, of course. I’ll join you in a minute.” She liked the idea of playing in the waves with him, the water cool against her naked skin. But stripping under his watchful gaze was another matter entirely.
“I’m very sure, Fiona.” He rose off the blanket, his dark chest gleaming in the sun. Slowly, he eased his shorts down his smooth, powerful thighs.
She swallowed and lifted her gaze to his. He was staring at her, his brown eyes intense and full of passion. Next, he lowered his boxer briefs. Holy Goddess.
“You look…sure,” she choked out, lifting her wine glass and draining the contents.
He stepped out of his clothes and slid his hand down her cheek with a tenderness that caught her off guard. “I’m going to swim a bit. Feel free to join me if the mood strikes you.” He rested his index finger on her lips for a moment and then turned away, giving her a glorious view of his smooth, tight buttocks as he waded into the water.
Fiona poured herself another glass of wine, but she didn’t drink it. Instead, she sat mesmerized by his powerful arms and torso cutting through the water, as he swam parallel to the shore. The choice was hers. She could follow her body’s longing to join him, or she could cave in to the cautious, fearful part of her that shrunk from the thought of igniting her dreaded power.
Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it back. From the water, Armando lifted his head to take a breath and froze mid-stroke, watching. Emboldened by his obvious interest, she stood and unhooked her bra, dropping it into the sand.
A wave of water hit him in the face, and he sputtered.
“You okay?” she called, her fingers on the waistband of her skirt as she walked down the warm sand toward him.
“Fine. Unless you want to resuscitate me, then I’m in desperate need of rescuing,” he teased.
Confidence renewed, she smiled and pushed down her skirt. It pooled at her ankles, and she stepped out of it, leaving it in the sand as she walked to the edge of the lake, letting the water lap against her bare toes.
Another glance at Armando confirmed he’d abandoned all pretense of swimming as he stood in the water up to his chest and tracked her progress. She tossed her panties aside and waded naked into the lake until her breasts were submerged in the cool water and he was close enough to touch.
“I’ve never been skinny dipping before,” she admitted. “What do we do?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think there are rules. If there are, nobody’s watching to enforce them.” He reached out and pushed a lock of her still-dry hair behind her ear. “What do you want to do? Swim? Splash around?”
She focused on his lips, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind. “Kiss.”
His smile widened. “I just remembered. There are rules, and kissing is the first requirement.” He leaned toward her, his lips full and wet and tempting.
He gave her plenty of time to move away or put a stop to it, but she didn’t want to avoid his lips. She wanted to kiss him. She met him halfway, savoring the sweet, tender contact.
His fingers slid around the back of her head, lifting the hair off her neck. He shifted closer still, and her nipples brushed his chest under the water.
“Yeah, touch me there,” she whispered.
His hands slid down, cupping her breasts. She kissed him hard, clenching her arms around his nec
k, wanting more of his strength and beauty for herself.
They kissed until she could hardly stand, and he must have felt the same because he staggered with her a couple steps to where the water was only waist deep. “Oh, Fiona. You make me weak.”
If she had a chance of ever having a normal sex life with a normal man, right here, right now, with this man was her chance. She wanted him so badly she could hardly remember why sex never ended well for her. It would be different this time. Armando was different, like no one she’d ever known.
She kissed him harder and rubbed her hands up his back. Then she slid her leg over his.
He sank to his knees, so that the water lapped up to their necks. She wrapped her leg around his waist and then settled on him, slowly taking him all in at once.
Oh yes. Apollo, God of Truth, this feels so right. Too good. I can’t come yet. I need to give her pleasure. She still hasn’t even trusted me enough to tell me her last name. I have to earn her trust.
Fiona rocked her body against his. He wanted her. He was enjoying the feel of her body. Why did he care what her last name was? She had to make him think only good thoughts so she could enjoy the moment. “Is your vacation everything you hoped it would be so far?”
Definitely not a vacation. Maybe I should have gone home this morning like I planned, he thought. But he said, “Getting better. What about yours?”
Home? He hadn’t planned to stay for the whole week? What had made him change his mind and stay if he’d planned to leave this morning? She rocked her body deeper against his and answered his spoken question, “Everything I hoped for.”
Everything I hoped for—lie.
Lie? She froze with her body locked around him, his length still fully inside her. What kind of thought was that? She’d never come across anyone who thought in a repeat of the other person’s words before, but it sounded like the mannerism of the truth-finding power.
Fiona shuddered. She was wrong. She had to be. In all the mistakes she’d made, she’d never exposed herself to anyone with a power to see more than she told them.
I’ll make the sex everything you hoped for and more, Armando thought. “What was your biggest hope coming here?” he asked, caressing her naked back. He slid his hands around her torso, once more settling his palms against her breasts.
Her soul longed to claim him as her mate by mixing his thoughts with his words until she couldn’t tell which were spoken aloud. But she resisted the temptation. She had enough control and good sense not to mate with a man she didn’t trust.
Despite her panic, she responded to his touch. His thumbs grazed her nipples, sending sparks straight her core. She rocked her body against his. “To meet a handsome man like yourself and fall head-over-heels in love.”
To meet a handsome man like yourself and fall head-over-heels in love—lie.
She’s lying to me every second. I can’t let the sex distract me. I can’t let myself fall head-over-heels in lust.
The facts were too obvious to convince herself it could be anything else. Armando had the truth-finding power. He knew every time she was lying, every time she’d turned his conversation in another direction. He wasn’t on vacation and looking for a get-away fling.
He was here on a mission. He was using sex with her to get answers, answers that involved the truth of who she really was. And his mission would destroy her if she allowed him to succeed.
Chapter 6
ARMANDO MOANED AND LEANED in to kiss Fiona’s delectable mouth again. Instead, she lifted herself above him so far that he slid out. He grasped for her ass, but she shoved his shoulder, knocking him off balance and underwater. He came up sputtering and utterly bewildered.
Fiona was swimming away from him.
“Where are you going? What’s wrong?” He staggered to his feet.
“Don’t ever touch me again!” she shouted, running toward shore. Her face was dripping but not just with water. She was crying.
What the hell? Every word she’d spoken to him during sex was a lie, but she hadn’t lied when she said she wanted him, and her body hadn’t lied. She’d accepted him inside her willingly, but now she was running up the sandy beach away from him. Nothing made any sense. “Wait, Fiona, what is it? Did I hurt you?”
“Your only intention was to use me, you filthy bastard.” She kicked the picnic basket so hard fruit and cheese spilled across the sand. She grabbed her shirt and shoved her arms in the sleeves.
“I didn’t promise forever, but I promise I had every intention of making the sex good for you. If you could just tell me where I went wrong maybe we can start from there—talking, I mean. We don’t have to do anything physical.” He staggered toward shore, his frustrated arousal making it difficult to think clearly, especially considering she looked insanely hot wearing only her half-buttoned shirt and standing over their ruined picnic.
“I won’t be doing anything with you ever again.” She picked up the wine bottle and hurled it at him.
He ducked, and the bottle hit the water behind him.
Fiona turned and ran up the path, her bare ass cheeks peeking out beneath her shirt.
“Fiona!” he shouted, but she disappeared into the trees.
He picked up the floating bottle and considering smashing it. Instead he tossed it gently up to the ruined picnic and turned back to the lake to swim off his frustration.
He didn’t know what had upset Fiona, but her truths had turned to lies during sex. He should have seen it for the red flag it was and realized something was bothering her. But no, he’d rushed the physical connection until she hadn’t felt one anymore.
And he’d lost her.
Everyone stopped and stared as Fiona ran across the lawn. These looks were very different from the shame-inducing, covert glances she was used to. They were stares of outright disbelief, accompanied by dropped jaws.
Damn it, why hadn’t she at least grabbed her skirt? Sure, she’d been in a hurry to get away from Armando’s horrifying truth-finding power. Yes, she’d been afraid she’d accidentally reveal her Orgasmic Psychic power by replying to his thoughts. But she could have put on the rest of her clothes once she was away from the beach.
Instead she was dashing across the Wiccan Haus grounds in a shirt that was too short to qualify as appropriate by anyone’s standards. She ran through the lobby to the elevators and pushed the button, hoping to get to her room before she was arrested for indecent exposure. The doors didn’t open.
She pushed the button again. Nothing happened. She looked frantically for the stairwell but didn’t see one. Myron’s seat at the front desk was empty as well, but Sage was walking toward her.
“I know I’m half-naked,” Fiona said quickly. “I’m trying to get to my room, but the elevator’s not working.”
Sage didn’t raise an eyebrow or let her gaze drop below Fiona’s chin. “You’re trying to use Elevator Three. It only goes to the human floor and won’t work for Paras.” She crossed to another elevator, this one with the number two over it, and pushed the button. The doors opened immediately.
“Thank you.” Fiona ran in and jabbed the “close” button. Sage followed her.
“What happened, Fiona?”
Fiona jumped at the sound of Cemil’s voice. He stood in the opposite corner of the elevator and probably would have gotten out in the lobby if she’d given him the chance. She tugged her shirt lower. Her plan to escape with the last shreds of her dignity was a failure.
The elevator doors opened on the second floor, and Fiona froze in horror. Her room key was still in her skirt pocket lying in the sand at the beach. She could not survive the humiliation of running back through the lobby and the grounds, and likely confronting Armando. A truth-finder! How could she have become involved with a man like that?
“How about we all go to your room?” Sage suggested.
Fiona swallowed, but it only intensified the ache in her throat. She tugged on her shirt again. “I’m locked out of my room. Can one of you bring me an ext
ra key…or some pants?”
“We can get you in. You go straight to the bathroom and draw a hot bath. I’ll bring your clothes to you,” Sage said, as Cemil opened the door.
Too upset to explain she just wanted to be alone, Fiona dashed into the bathroom. She started the bath as Sage had suggested, finding it easier to simply obey than try to figure out on her own what her plan should be. A minute later, Sage handed her a skirt in brighter colors than she’d worn in years, along with a basket of herbs and detailed instructions on how to mix them into the water.
Fiona soaked until the water turned tepid. She continued to sit until it was so cold she was shivering. She got out, dried off, and put on the bright clothes Sage had delivered. Still shivering, she covered herself with the heavy robe hanging from a hook on the door. It didn’t stop the chill, but at least she didn’t feel exposed anymore.
She opened the bathroom door, hoping to have the room to herself.
She didn’t. Sage was pacing the floor with a rolled stick, spreading incense in every corner. Cemil was lying on the chaise with his eyes closed. They both turned to her, their expressions so full of concern she nearly started crying all over again.
Cemil stood and walked toward her, taking both her hands in his. “Tell us what happened, Fiona.”
She shook her head and tried to pull away. She didn’t trust anyone who wanted to touch her anymore. For all she knew, they could all possess the truth-finding power.
“I’m an empath,” Cemil said, holding firm. “My touch will help you heal.”
“Will your touch take away the powers I have and give me the ones I’m supposed to have?” she demanded. “That’s the only way I’ll truly heal.”
“The powers you have are the ones that are meant for you. I can’t change that. But I can help you embrace and accept them. You’ve had a bad experience with your vetting powers. It’s understandable your faith in them is shaken and you want to reject them.”
