by Ann Major
“Cash—” Her hands fisted against his dark, furred chest.
He was huge, his dark handsomeness startling. Broad shoulders narrowed to a lean waist. His legs and arms felt like they were made of muscle. She’d never been so close to such a virile, attractive man. And he was successful on a world-class scale. When they were together he treated her like an equal. But they weren’t equals. Not in the real world. She was playing with fire, and yet being with him like this was so wonderful, she couldn’t stop herself from opening her mouth and melting against him.
Something outside her took over and she welcomed his tongue inside her mouth, tasting salt and him with an eagerness that stunned her. Lying in the surf, the water brushed her thighs and breasts into him. Their swirling bodies went beneath the waves, and she felt his hands touching her everywhere.
She came up from the surf gasping and laughing, all her will to fight gone because of the delight her body found in his. He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again.
I can make you happy, she thought as his mouth closed over hers and more warm waves licked them. Happier than you’ve ever been.
But after that? What would happen after that? Passion didn’t last.
And there was Isabela. Darling Isabela.
“This is wrong,” Vivian said. “Isabela’s done a lot for me. I owe her more than betrayal.” She stood up.
He lunged for her slim ankle, but she hopped out of his clutches. “If she really loved you, wouldn’t she understand that things like this happen?”
“I don’t want to try to explain that to her. I don’t want to hurt her. She’s been so wonderful to me.”
“Please—no more sermons about how perfect she is.”
“You’re right.” Vivian smoothed her dripping hair back out of her eyes. The sky toward Mérida was darkening. She frowned.
“Okay,” she said. “See that big black cloud? It’s probably going to rain soon. Why don’t we dry off and dress. If you’re hungry, I know a great fish restaurant in town where they fry the fish whole. Or we can just head home—I wouldn’t want Isabela to worry.”
“What about our picnic supper?”
“Beer and music would be better.” And other people to take my mind off Cash.
“You’re afraid to be here alone with me after the sun goes down.”
Without looking at him, she said, “Sometimes it’s scary the way you can read my mind.”
“That’s not what scares you.”
She felt a sweet, warm tightening somewhere in her midsection. Dear Lord, I want him so badly. She swallowed. “We’d better hurry. I really think it might rain,” she said.
He stared past her at the mass of clouds. “So what if it does?”
“I told you—I don’t want to be late. I don’t want Isabela to worry.”
“This is our day. Our one day together.” Without saying more, he drew her hands to his mouth. He kissed each open palm so lingeringly that she shivered. He lifted his tousled black head. “Is it so wrong for us to enjoy each other?” His beautiful voice was strange and hoarse, and he seemed so earnest, so honest. Being with him did feel wonderful on many levels. Was it wrong?
Lowering his head, he kissed her wrists, and heat washed her. She swallowed again, still not knowing what to say or do because her mind and conscience dictated one thing and her heart and body something completely different.
She let out a breath and inhaled another. She should stop him, but his lips nibbling higher and higher up her arms caused silky tantalizing sensations to pulsate inside her, sensations that were too delicious to resist.
Finally, Vivian felt a fat raindrop hit her toe. More spattered onto the sand around them. Thunder crashed.
In a daze she jerked her hands loose from his. She’d resisted every man until him. What in the world was happening to her?
Somehow she found her voice. “I think we’d better make a run for it.”
Ten
Brows knitted, Vivian stared at the slashing windshield wipers. She felt desperate to get home before she gave in to the powerful feelings Cash aroused, but the storm was getting worse. Maybe the ancient Mexican gods weren’t on her side after all.
Despite the rain, Cash had convinced her to stop for dinner on the way home. The little beachside café had been too romantic to believe, and if the sky hadn’t darkened to an ominous shade of gray, they might have stayed and danced to the band for hours. Instead of dancing, they’d decided to head back to Isabela’s before the storm got worse, but the torrential downpour had begun before they were halfway to Mérida.
Black rain now swept across the narrow, red dirt road that was lined on either side by whitewashed rustic walls and small pastel-colored houses. Fierce tornadic gusts tossed broken fan-like leaves and palm fronds everywhere. Soon it was all but impossible to see much of the Mayan village where Vivian had intended to stop earlier.
Coconuts torn out of trees rolled down the road on all sides of them like loose bowling balls. From time to time the SUV crunched one under its big tires.
“Isabela isn’t going to believe this storm—” Vivian was jabbing at her cell phone. “Everytime I dial her, I get a busy signal.”
“This is like a hurricane. You aren’t going to get a signal until the storm blows itself out,” Cash said. “Relax.”
“We should have skipped dinner.”
“Dinner was great! I never ate better fish anywhere. Even if the cook did leave the eyes when I told him not to, and that damn fish watched me and made me feel worse than a cannibal.”
His easy conversation helped take her mind off the storm.
At that moment twin bolts of blue-white lightning slammed into the jungle on either side of the narrow road, and she screamed.
“Sorry.” She clamped fingers over her mouth as high winds buffeted the SUV, causing it to swerve. Eusebio hunched over the wheel, straining to see into the wild wet dark.
“Maybe we should stop and wait it out,” Cash suggested.
“No, this can’t last long.”
But it did. Sheets of water kept coming. When they were in the middle of the jungle village, all the streetlights went out. Other than the glow from the stunted bright cones of their headlights, they were in total darkness.
Suddenly a pig flew out of nowhere. Eusebio slammed on the brakes. A vicious gust hammered the side of the SUV, and the vehicle skidded in the slick mud. As a white stone wall loomed in front of them, the pig squealed, scrambled over it and vanished into a clump of catalpa trees. Eusebio yanked the steering wheel to the right.
Cash said, “Get down.” When she didn’t, he pulled Vivian into his arms and threw her onto the seat, lowering himself protectively over her. When she struggled, his strong hands held the back of her head against his chest.
Instead of hitting the wall head-on, the vehicle’s sides scraped trees and the wall before the engine sputtered and died.
“Are you okay?” Cash asked, sitting up a little, stroking her hair.
They’d had a wreck, yet she felt safe—she was in his arms, inhaling his clean male scent, and he was concerned about her.
“Just get off me and I’ll be fine,” she snapped, still trying to fight her vulnerability to him.
His large, wonderfully sensitive hands touched her everywhere as if to reassure himself she really was all right—her brow, her nose, her lips, her neck, her arms and then down her spine.
In the front seat, Eusebio tried to start the SUV again, not that Vivian was wholly conscious of the chauffeur’s activities. She couldn’t think with Cash’s arms around her.
“I’m fine,” she muttered fiercely, pushing at him.
“Right,” he whispered, letting her go.
Neither looked at the other. She clenched her fingers together in her lap. He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward to advise Eusebio as to how to start the engine. When it wouldn’t start, the three of them sat in silence as the rain pounded the vehicle.
“What are we go
ing to do?” she whispered.
“We wait,” Cash replied.
Alone? Together? For how long? She didn’t ask.
It wasn’t long before the rain lessened and they saw movement in the jungle. Then an army of brown-skinned people appeared out of nowhere cowering under umbrellas, rebozos and ponchos. Fists beat on the windows, so Vivian cracked her door open and found herself staring at a young man with a narrow face and thin mustache.
“Huicho!” she cried, delighted to recognize somebody.
“I know this truck yours.” He beamed at them, happy to see her as well as her rich gringo friend who’d bought so many hats. “Come out. Mi casa es su casa.”
Looking shaken, Eusebio said he knew a mechanic and would go for help. Before Vivian could argue, he vanished.
Huicho told her to wait. Then he brought heavy rain ponchos and led Vivian and Cash down a narrow lane lined with huts and dense tropical vegetation.
“You are lucky. A tenant of mine just moved out of my guest house,” Huicho said, stopping in front of a hut and shoving the bright blue front door open. “You can stay with us for the night. Very private.”
“We won’t be staying for the whole night,” Vivian said, her blood heating at the mere thought. “Eusebio will have us on our way long before—”
“You didn’t see the front end of your truck.” Huicho made a grim face. “The road ahead is like a river.”
Vivian’s heart sank. “Isabela…”
Soon they were across the threshold, and it was warm and dry. His children ran and lined up against the far wall, hiding their faces from their guests and giggling. A wealth of candles lit the tiny room. Lupe, his wife, brushed strands of hair out of her eyes and rushed up to greet them.
She smiled at Vivian and nodded shyly toward Cash. “I make your special friend something to eat, no?”
“We already ate. Please just show us the guest house,” Cash said, “and we won’t bother you for more.”
Vivian stayed with Lupe and the children while Huicho showed Cash the small house behind his own cottage. When the men returned, Cash told Vivian the guest house would do nicely.
Vivian averted her eyes, and when Lupe insisted on serving them black zapotes, Vivian seized having a snack as an excuse to put off being in a room alone with Cash.
Black zapotes were a lot like giant prunes, and Lupe had removed their skins and seeds and mashed them in sugar. As always, Vivian found them to be a delicious treat. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the night ahead.
After eating more than his share and complimenting Lupe extravagantly, Cash sat down with Huicho. To Vivian’s alarm, the two men began arm wrestling and bolting shots of tequila.
Vivian begged Cash to quit, but he merely lifted his shot glass and toasted her.
“You aren’t used to tequila,” she said under her breath.
He laughed and lifted his shot glass toward her again.
The more the two men drank, the more they laughed and looked warmly at the women.
“If you drink any more, you’ll be as drunk as a skunk,” Vivian finally said.
When Huicho was about to pour Cash still another shot, Cash eyed Vivian, put his hand over the bottle and shook his head.
“My woman says no,” Cash said, flashing her a grin.
Huicho nodded, eyeing Vivian with new appreciation. No doubt he was remembering the kiss in the market. Vivian was so mad she wanted to kick Cash.
Lupe smiled at them shyly and dashed out to the guest house to make it ready for them. A few minutes later when Cash led Vivian inside the little cottage, fresh lilies and hibiscus blossoms graced a rustic table, along with a bottle of tequila for Cash. White towels and dry clothes for both of them had been laid on the double bed draped with mosquito netting.
A bare bulb hung over the table, but with the electricity out, the flickering candle on the window ledge was their only source of light. A plastic curtain hung in a doorway to give privacy to the bathroom.
“Running water!” Cash said.
“All yours for the night,” Lupe said with one of her quick smiles before leaving them.
“They’re certainly friendly.” Cash shut the door, his eyes burning her face and her body.
Vivian rushed to the door that led to the courtyard and opened it. “I work with them every week. Lupe is one of my best students. I’ve taught her to use a sewing machine, and she now teaches others.” Vivian paused breathlessly. “I don’t know what they must be thinking. This door stays open.”
“They think our tank rammed into their wall.”
“Why did you drink so much?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Why do you care so much?”
“I think you know.”
“I’m not going to force you—if that’s what you think. Or if that’s what you secretly desire….”
“How dare you suggest—”
“I dare,” he growled. “Why do only you get to accuse me?”
Furious, she began to pace, and then so did he, each careful to avoid the other. By American standards the room was bare. There was no television, no books, no magazines.
When Vivian ripped off her rain poncho, Cash’s dark eyes grew more avid and hot. She realized her wet, clinging huipil and skirt were probably plastered to her breasts and hips, so she grabbed her poncho and held it up between them.
He laughed. Glancing at her watch impatiently, she realized how early it was.
“Calm down,” he said.
“With you drunk and watching me with those tiger eyes of yours?”
“Hey, I’m not going to pounce you. Not unless you want me to.”
“Oh, when will Eusebio return? And how will he know where we are?” In despair she plopped onto one edge of the bed.
“I wouldn’t count on him for much. It looks like I’m your entertainment center,” Cash said, weaving a little as he fell backward beside her, but on the opposite end of the bed.
She bolted off the bed.
“Would you like a soda or something?” he said, his tone low and casual. “I think I saw a case in Huicho’s house.”
“Yes.”
“Anything to get me out of here?” His face lit with a savage grin.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“Okay. Okay. Okay,” he said, amused.
“This whole situation is impossible,” she added.
“Not if you change your attitude.”
“This room is too small.”
“Intimate,” he countered.
“The soda—remember? You were going!”
“Right.”
When he stomped out into the pouring rain, she eyed the double bed nervously. She hadn’t even begun to relax before he was back with her soda.
As if he felt perfectly comfortable—and why wouldn’t he after all he’d drunk—he sat at the table, leaned back in the chair, his long legs sprawling, and poured himself another shot of tequila, which he lifted in a mock salute to her.
“Don’t be so insolent.” Her forehead crinkling, she backed away from him until her spine hit the window ledge.
When he lifted his brows and saluted her again, the air between them crackled with electricity.
“This isn’t working,” she said. “I can’t do this.”
“Okay.”
This whole thing was making her crazy. She was afraid. So afraid. Why? Why was she so scared of being alone with him?
Pursing her lips, she drank her soda in silence. Behind her the cool rain streamed in unending torrents into the courtyard outside, which was now six inches deep with water. She wished it would stop.
“I have to get out of here,” she said.
“Ever heard the word ‘destiny’?”
“Just be quiet.”
Before she was half done with her soda, her cell phone rang. Her purse was sitting on a low table near the door. When they both rushed to get it, they bumped into each other. He grabbed the strap of her purse before she could reach it. Rocking ba
ck on his heels, he swept her a courtly bow and held the purse out to her.
Trembling with rage, at least she told herself it was rage, she snatched it from him. When she couldn’t open it, he grabbed it back and yanked the zipper open for her. She reached inside and retrieved her cell phone.
“Isabela?” she gasped.
“Why are you breathless?”
Vivian glared up at Cash, whose tall, wide-shouldered body loomed over her. Her entire body was quivering. “No reason,” she replied.
“I’ve been calling you and calling you.”
“Me too.”
“How’s Cash?”
A single glance his way, and her heartbeat picked up speed. “F-fine.”
“You sound funny,” Isabela observed.
Cash smiled.
She felt a strange heat climbing her limbs until it spread throughout her entire body. “He’s j-just…just fine.”
“Never better,” he drawled, lifting his tequila toward her. “Tell her hello.”
“Where—?” Isabela’s voice died.
“Oh, Isabela, we broke down. But Eusebio will have things fixed in no time. He’s gone to find a mechanic.”
“Don’t count on it. He’s probably drunk. Where are you?”
Vivian eyed Cash again. His beaming face wore an inebriated smile. Through gritted teeth, she said the name of the village.
“I’ll send a cab,” Isabela said.
Before Vivian could give her directions, a flash of lightning whitened the room and the cell phone went dead. Frantically, she tried to call Isabela back while Cash stared at her, smiling charmingly. She jabbed at the buttons, but all she could get was that maddening busy signal.
“Quit watching me and quit smiling at me,” she yelled at Cash, throwing the phone at the bed in frustration.
“You’re wet and cold,” he said. “No wonder you’re so grumpy.” He stood up.
“If I’m grumpy, it’s your fault. And…and stay right where you are.”
“And if I’m in a good mood, whose fault is that?” he demanded silkily.
“Not mine! You’re drunk!”
“Maybe a warm shower would make you feel better?”
