“What did you do, make reservations?” Gwen had to laugh.
Maggie shrugged. “Hells yeah. And believe me, they didn’t come cheap.”
More than half the patrons were American. “Three double shots of tequila and a coke for our designated driver,” Maggie ordered for all of them.
Arka turned Gwen’s chin with his fingers and touched his forehead to hers. “What’s tequila?”
Okay. Tonight had just become a lot more interesting. “You might know it as fire water.” He shook his head. “Well, then I guess you’ll just have to drink it and find out.” She broke the connection before he could ask more questions.
The drinks were delivered and Maggie immediately ordered another round. Gwen lifted the back of Arka’s hand to her mouth, loving the intensity of passion in his eyes as she slowly licked the webbing between his thumb and first finger. Holding his gaze, she sprinkled salt on the spot and repeated the process on her hand. She handed him a wedge of lime, taking one for herself, and lifted her glass. Maggie’s tequila and Enrique’s coke touched to hers, and they all looked at Arka expectantly. He followed suit and raised his.
“To Gwen. She not only survived … she conquered,” Mattie said, bringing tears to Gwen’s eyes. Arka lifted a brow but didn’t ask any questions … yet. Maggie’s sentiment meant too much for Gwen to be angry with her friend.
Gwen added, “To lost treasure.”
Enrique said, “To beautiful women.” He wiggled his brows at Maggie.
Arka didn’t hesitate. “To a treasure found.” His gaze held hers. Gwen knew she was falling in love with him. Why didn’t that thought scare the hell out of her?
“Lick.” Maggie demonstrated for Arka. “Drink.” She threw the double shot back. “Suck.” She bit into the lime.
He watched Gwen closely as she followed the same process Maggie did. He lifted the back of his hand to his tongue, followed by the drink, only Arka slammed the empty glass hard on the table as the lime went into his mouth. Gwen thought he was going to have a heart attack. He shook his head and growled as his palm slapped the table. Maggie and Enrique were laughing so hard Gwen found herself laughing too.
“Fire-water.” His voice hissed from between his clenched teeth. “I understand.”
Three more drinks were set in front of them. Maggie held out the salt to Arka. “You man enough for more, or you want to puss out and be the designated driver so I can get Enrique shit-faced and take advantage of him?”
She heard Enrique whisper to Maggie, “I’ll buy a bottle to go.” Good thing Arka never slept in his tent. Tonight maybe he’d sleep inside the trailer instead of on the ground outside her door.
Arka snatched the salt and Maggie hooted. He lifted Gwen’s hand, sucked in each of her fingers before he licked her web, sending waves of arousal coursing through her system. Her shorts grew wet with wanting him. Then he sprinkled her web with salt.
I need this. Gwen didn’t wait for a toast. The heat of the liquor didn’t alleviate her burning need for him in the slightest. It rushed to her head, leaving her dizzy and tingly all over.
“Is it weird that totally turned me on?” Enrique blurted.
Maggie grabbed Gwen, dragging her from her stool. “Let’s sing.”
****
When the next drinks came, Arka didn’t bother with salt and lime, he just drank it. Then drank Gwen’s too. Though the girls seemed to be having fun, the song they selected about a wife abuser named Earl—who he fully agreed, “had to die,”—seemed more than just a song.
It ended and Maggie whispered in the music-maker’s ear. She returned to the table and leaned against Enrique’s chest. “Watch this.”
The lights dimmed so only one gave Gwen’s face a soft glow. The music started and she swayed her hips softly. Her eyes met Arka’s and he leaned forward attentively.
“In my secret dreams, I search for you. Blindly in the dark of night. You think that I don’t know, I will show you love … when the time is right.”
“Running through the twilight, twilight. With eternal love in sight. You’ll find it in my arms tonight.”
Her voice rang out pure and strong, wrapping him in the cocoon of her words. Her expression … the look in her eye … like she were trying to tell him a secret. He felt the sudden urge to kneel before her in worship again. The rhythm changed and her dancing became more erotic.
“Bound to the night, our hearts will unite, surrendered beneath, beneath … beneath the moonlight. Oh … our hearts are joined … beneath the moonlight.”
Enrique batted his arm over the table. Arka held his breath.
“Bound to the night, our hearts will unite, surrendered beneath, beneath … beneath the moonlight. Oh … our hearts are joined … beneath the moonlight.”
“She really likes you. This has been her favorite song forever … and she’s singing it to you,” Maggie said. He appreciated the insight into Gwen’s private world. He appreciated it even more when she stopped talking so he could hear the rest of the moonlight song.
Gwen took a bow when the room erupted in cheers. With a light blush on her cheeks, she handed the metal voice catcher to a person who stepped into her spot. Arka stood, captured her behind her neck, and bent her backward into a perfect dip, pouring his love into a scorching kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she opened to him fully.
Everything around them ceased to exist. Only her. He tried to shrug off the hand to his shoulder. “Uncle,” Enrique yelled into his ear. Arka lifted his head from Gwen’s sweet lips, ready to pound his nephew to dust, and met the amused faces of a half-dozen people. He looked down at Gwen; she smiled and bit her bottom lip.
People began to compliment him, and Arka realized what he’d nearly done. “I’m sorry, Goddess.” He whispered once she was back in her seat.
“Looks like it’s going around.” Gwen smirked. Arka followed her line of sight to see Enrique and Maggie kissing at the table. “I think it’s time to go.” She poked Maggie in the arm. “Ready?”
Maggie smiled at Enrique. “Oh, hells yeah.”
Chapter Eight
“I’ll be right there. Thank you so much.” John snapped his phone closed. Finding someone to follow Gwen in Central America had been surprisingly easy. The GPS had told him exactly which archaeology site she was at. When he’d flown in a few days ago, he walked up to the first driver he saw with a Jeep. Jorge had been sympathetic to John being abandoned by his wife. Of course he knew the trails … sure he had a cousin who needed to make a few bucks taking pictures. Very accommodating natives.
He’d shown Jorge a picture of Gwen with Maggie in it. It was a stroke of luck that Jorge owned the off-road truck rental business where Maggie got her Hummer.
He checked his reflection. “You need to go, sweetheart. I have some business to handle.” Tan hands with pink nail polish snaked up his chest from behind.
“I go with you?” The girl pouted like the child she looked to be, though she’d told him she was nineteen when he asked. The blossoming age between sixteen and twenty had always been his weakness. The memory of Gwen at nineteen still made his mouth water. John reached in his billfold and handed her two hundred dollars. “I not … whore!” She crossed her arms over her perky breasts.
John wrapped his arms around her stiff form. “I know you’re not, sweetheart. I just thought you might want to go shopping for a few hours while I get some business done.” He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she instantly melted against him. He racked his mind trying to remember her name. She took the money and dressed, giving him smiles probably meant to be coy. He hardened behind his zipper at the demonstration of naive sexuality.
The girl left with a promise to return the next day. He just nodded, though by then John would have his insubordinate wife to deal with. Maggie had pulled Gwen out of the jungle, giving him the opportunity he needed.
Removing the black ball cap respectfully, John stopped at the front desk of his hotel and asked them to move him to a dif
ferent floor and room. Of course they would see to moving his bags and personal belongings. Of course they would upgrade him to a full suite for no extra charge. Accommodating.
The taxi dropped him off in a dirty alley behind the bar. The back door opened and Jorge stood smiling in a plume of cigarette smoke. “Come, come. You’re wife just arrived, señor.” John ducked in and Jorge led him to a line of chairs set up behind the dark screen backdrop of the stage. A couple of kitchen workers rose and wandered off when they approached.
“Why are we back here?” John felt the need to whisper.
Jorge waved to a large man leaning against the wall with his arms folded. Bouncer. Just like the US. “My nephew owns this bar. I recommended it and made a reservation for the Maggie girl. This is where employees can watch the shows without bothering the patrons.”
The stage lights came on. The black draping light from behind became nearly sheer from the backside answering John’s question even if Jorge hadn’t. John’s eyes were instantly drawn to the halo of white hair sitting front stage center. Gwen and Maggie sat side by side. It was the two men on the ends that had John sinking into one of the chairs. The seductive mannerisms of Gwen and the muscle-head Indian when they drank. If she hadn’t fucked him already, it would happen by the end of the night. Unbelievable.
Jorge gave him a look of pity. “I’m sorry, señor. This must be very difficult to see.” He handed John an envelope. “These are from my cousin.”
“It’s not her fault. Her friend leads her down the wrong path,” John assured Jorge … and reminded himself. Of course, Maggie had just arrived, and Gwen seemed too comfortable with the man to have just met him.
John flipped through the pictures as Maggie and Gwen croned out a lame Dixie Chicks song. Most were images of Gwen smiling and laughing, the two men at her table digging beside her. When was the last time John had heard her laughter? As if on cue, the song ended and that laughter rolled over him with a wave of nostalgia. The lights darkened on the last photo, showing the big guy’s bared ass entering water with Gwen swimming farther out. Son of a bitch.
When the music started, he recognized it immediately—the song she secretly played all the time. The one John had thought was for him. She sang it to another, poured herself into gyrating … for him. The bottoms of her butt cheeks peeked out from her shorts. Even her T-shirt slogan was about sex. Whore. He’d always gone so easy on her. Blamed Maggie and other people’s influence for her bad behavior. Only punished her for her unwillingness to listen to him … obey him … let go of her friendship with Maggie that was holding their relationship back. When the guy practically took her on the barroom floor, John knew without a doubt what he needed to do.
“Jorge, my friend.” John smiled nicely at the man who had silently watched his wife degrade herself in public. “I think I might need a gun.” Jorge’s startled, suspicious expression had John trying to explain. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m just afraid that guy won’t let me talk to my wife … won’t let me convince her to come home.”
“No, señor. This is Belize. Gun laws are strict here.” The suspicious look in Jorge’s eyes remained. “Maybe you should calm down before you talk to your wife.”
John caught the foursome standing to leave out the corner of his eye. He stood and placed his hand on Jorge’s shoulder. “You’re right, Jorge. I will go back to my hotel and see if she will talk to me in the morning.” Not fucking likely. John controlled his steps till he got out the door. He leaned down to pull out the hunting knife he’d purchased the day he’d arrived from under his pant leg and ran around the building just as Gwen exited the bar with the man’s arm slung intimately over her shoulder.
Out of the smoke-filled bar and under the street lights, the guy looked even bigger. He towered over John’s six foot one height by at least three inches. The dark tan shade of his skin made Gwen’s pale completion look freakishly white. They walked toward him, too engrossed in conversation to even notice him in the shadow at the end of the building.
John lowered the bill of his cap and stepped around the corner. Grabbing Gwen’s elbow the second she stepped into view, he jerked her from the man, shoved her back to the bricks, and pressed the blade to her throat. He met the fury in the guy’s eyes dead on. “Keep walking, buddy.”
“Arka, do what he says,” Gwen squeaked from beneath him.
Maggie and the other guy stepped beside the big guy. Maggie gasped. “John, what are you doing? Let Gwen go. This can’t end well. Think about it.” Always the voice of reason. Maggie had talked him into letting Gwen go two years ago, and look what that got him.
“This is your fault, Maggie. She never would have left me if it weren’t for you.” John felt the tears burning his eyes, which just pissed him off more. He looked back at the guy Gwen had called Arka. “You should thank me.” He pressed the blade harder.
The man’s deep voice was pacifying. “I can see you’re … hurt, but I don’t understand why?’ His English was heavily accented.
John snorted, determined rage coursed through him with single-minded intent. “Did you know you were fucking my wife? She’s defiled beyond redemption.” He spat the last words into Gwen’s face. “Broken my heart for the last time.”
“John, please. I’m … sorry,” Gwen pleaded.
“Sorry!” The violent beast in him roared to new life. A knife was too kind for her. He moved the blade to her heart and took her throat in his hand, choking off her airway. “You have no idea how sorry you are.” Her lips turned as blue as her eyes bugged out of her head. Her scratching at his forearms weakened. Her fear-filled eyes stared into his. Oh, yeah, he had her attention now. He laughed with the satisfied, invincible euphoria that flushed into him. Sirens in the distance barely registered. Too late, as soon as her eyes dimmed he’d take the knife to himself and be with her in the next life … after he diced Maggie to pieces.
Suddenly the knife was knocked from his hand as an arm wrapped around his neck from behind, pulling him away from Gwen. No. His mind screamed. She’s mine. He watched her crumble to the ground with Maggie kneeling next to her. Realization of what he’d done pushed the bad side of him back into its cage, leaving regret and shame. He opened his mouth to say how sorry he was. To explain to her that she drove him to this, but no sound came out. There was a burning in his neck, a loud popping sound, then nothing.
****
The pressure at her throat lifted, but still Gwen couldn’t get air into her lungs. She needed to cough but couldn’t. She heard a sickening snapping sound, and then she felt Arka’s strong hands roll her to her back making it even harder to breathe. His lips touched hers, filling her lungs with a single warm hard breath. He rolled her to her side and the coughing began.
Her head pounded, her ears rang, and the black dots in her vision swirled, making her sick. Retching, she struggled to her hands and knees with Arka’s help. Loafers ran toward her. The muffled voice of a man apologizing over and over was drowned out by the scream of sirens. Her only center was Arka’s warm hand on her back, holding her hair from her face while she vomited, Maggie saying everything was going to be okay, and the agony of drawing the next burning breath.
She closed her eyes against the dizziness as she was scooped into arms and held against Arka’s familiar chest. He sat with her on his lap and Gwen felt a mask cover her face. She opened her eyes and made out the fuzzy details of an ambulance door. Arka’s face came into focus. One side of his lips lifted in the grin she loved so much and everything that happened rushed back into her mind. Lifting her arms to encircle his neck, she buried her face in his shoulder and wept.
He held the back of her head as every horrible memory seared through her mind and ran unchecked down her cheeks. It felt like she could cry forever. “I love you, Goddess,” Arka whispered in her ear, spurring her tears to a new frenzy. She didn’t deserve to be loved. John would kill her and anyone who mattered to her … including Arka.
“He’ll never give up, Arka. You sho
uld have let him kill me tonight. He’s going to eventually. You need to stay away from me, not love me.” Contrary to her “stay away” words she cleaved to him tighter.
Arka attempted to loosen her arms around his neck but Gwen squeezed tighter. “Gwen.” His chin rubbed her hair above her ear. “Look at me.” He loosened her arms gently and she let him. Gazes connected, he touched his forehead to hers. “Your husband is dead.” “I killed him, Goddess,” he added through their mind connection.
Oh, God. Horror filled her. Arka had killed John because of her. He’d spend the rest of his life with blood on his hands … because of her. He could go to prison … because of her. I’m toxic.
“I was born to protect you, Gwen. I was put on this earth for you. I will never regret what I did, my love. I would do it a thousand times over and never have a single regret. It is my duty … my honor to be your champion. His death was humane out of consideration of you. He deserved far worse.” The truth behind his words reflected in his eyes, though the full declaration didn’t make sense. Gwen focused on the “dead” part.
“Are you sure he’s … dead?” The flicker of relief she felt needed to hear him say it out loud.
Arka cupped her cheeks in his hands between the edge of the mask feeding her oxygen and her ears. “You are a widow, Gwen.”
Widow. Would he even know the word divorce? “I wasn’t married to John… anymore.” Sure enough he gave her a confused look. His eyes shifted and Gwen followed his line of sight to two men lifting a black body bag into a van. Her stomach knotted. It felt surreal. She wiggled from Arka’s lap, her legs tried to fold underneath her but he caught her. She tugged the mask from her face. “I have to see … know … please.”
His brows furled, yet rather than argue he supported her while she walked the distance. “Señorita…” one man stood at the back of the open van with his hands up to halt her.
Mayan Lover Page 6
