“Is that why your Turkish side of the family named their shipping line after the goddess Artemis?”
“Yep, because before the male remake on goddesses in the old world, Artemis was a consummate woman role model who was maternal, helped pregnant women, and was central to a strong, healthy family as well.”
“But in the myths we hear today,” Dara said, “Artemis, who was called Diana by the Romans, is a huntress. She hates men and runs like a naked wild woman through the forests with her bow and arrows or her spear, killing animals. She refuses to be tamed by a man.”
“Well,” Matt said drolly, “that’s not the Artemis our family knows. And if you look carefully at the beliefs of Anatolia, the ancient name for Turkey, as far back as you can go, she was worshipped by everyone. She was, in essence, the cradle of our country, a strong, wise woman.”
“Boy, she sure got the short end of the stick from the patriarchy, didn’t she?” Dara said, disgusted.
“If you ask a Turk about Artemis, to this day, she is respected. All the great temples in Turkey, especially the one in Ephesus, were built to her. And as a matter of fact, Turkey is the most progressive Muslim country in the world where women are concerned. Many families still have an altar in their home to her. They pray to her. They bring her flowers, sweet cakes, or other gifts. She’s alive and well in our blood. And every ship my family owns, even today, has a small altar to Artemis on board, and prayers are said to her for a safe voyage. That hasn’t changed since the twelfth century, Dara.”
“I love finding out about your amazing family,” she admitted, a little breathless and excited over their discussion. “That’s a fascinating tidbit. I’ll bet you don’t share that with the world.”
He shook his head. “No. Remember the sunroom in my parents’ home, where I proposed to you and gave you Grandmother Damia’s rings?”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember seeing a little water cascade on a marble shelf near the window? There was some ivy growing around it, too.”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s my mom’s altar to Artemis. She says morning and nightly prayers to her. She sees the goddess as caretaker of our entire family.”
“I’ve always thought that there’s much more to our unseen universe than what is being told or sold to us.”
“Sure is, but that’s another story for another day.” Matt gave her a teasing smile. The openness and joy in Dara’s expression blew his heart wide open. She was so childlike in some ways, and he lived for rare moments just like this that he could share with her.
“Let’s get back to the core of our talk. You were worried that you weren’t opening up entirely to me?”
“Yes.”
“You have been opening up to me over time, Matt. I feel that you want to. Sometimes, I think you’re wrestling within yourself, wanting to be fully vulnerable with me. It’s a struggle inside you. I can feel it. Do you?”
He became serious, frowning. “Yeah, there are times when I do, Dara. And I don’t want to be that way with you. I want to share myself with you in every possible way. And I’m trying to figure out how to fix this.”
She laughed lightly, sliding her fingers through his hair, seeing arousal in his eyes over her tender ministrations. “So typically male. A man thinks if he can fix it, everything will go well. These are emotions, Matt. You don’t ‘fix’ them. You work through them. And since you spent nearly a decade protecting your feelings, your heart, because of the kind of work you had to do, I feel it’s just going to take time. I know”—she met his eyes for a moment—“that you will one day be fully open with me. I feel it in my soul, because you love me just as much as I love you …”
CHAPTER 2
Dara gasped with delight as Matt pulled into the driveway on top of a small hill nestled on the slope of the velvet-cloaked lava mountains. They’d arrived at a small single-story plantation house, full of windows with a teak wraparound porch. There were monkeypod trees lining the concrete driveway up to the white house, which had a slate-colored roof. The teak porch railing gleamed here and there as sunlight cascaded through the trees.
“This is so beautiful!” Dara said, climbing out. Pulling her canvas bag over her left shoulder, she came around the front of the RAV, meeting Matt, who was taking out the keys to the rental. There were small, delicate gray-barked plumeria plants, their flowers pink with yellow centers, their fragrance heady and sweet.
“Like it?” he asked, smiling down at her. Right now, Dara was like an excited child, and it made him feel giddy with joy as he walked her up the highly polished teak steps to the wraparound porch. Around the bottom of the high porch were glistening, dark-green night-blooming jasmine vines. They had been artfully woven through a low trellis that surrounded the house, so it looked like it was sitting on a shiny green-leafed foundation of vines.
“Love it! Look! Passionflowers!” She pointed at one corner of a huge vertical teak log that supported the roof of the porch. The vines, sporting white flowers with purple and blue in the center of them, wrapped around the log from the ground almost to the roof, nearly hiding it. More passionflower vines wrapped around the other teak support at the other end of the porch. Their scent, combined with that of the plumeria, made Dara smile even more. The house was surrounded on three sides by hundred-foot-tall coconut palms, and behind them was the deep, dark-green jungle covering the slope of the mountain.
She stood on the front porch looking out at the turquoise blue of the ocean and the white beaches. She saw the town of Waianae, a mile away from the curved, pristine beaches. The view was a hundred and eighty degrees from where she stood, and Dara stared at the spiny ridge of the nearby mountains. The sharp peaks marched south toward the end of the island.
“Ready to see the inside of it?” Matt asked, unlocking the door and nudging it open for her. “This is our home for the next seven days. Let’s go check it out.”
Dara didn’t need two invites. She quickly took off her shoes, leaving them just inside the door on a small rug, and walked into the large living room and kitchen area. The floor consisted of long planks of highly polished, golden-hued teak. She looked up at the high cathedral ceiling, painted white, with huge timbers supporting it. The furniture was bamboo with large, comfortable-looking ivory cushions. There were large lanterns of crinkly white rice paper that cast a soft glow when Matt turned on the switch.
In one corner were several jade-colored ceramic pots filled with bright red and green ti plants that were at least ten feet tall, giving the area a dramatic and colorful focal point. Dara walked lightly, appreciating the colors, the calming coolness and quiet of the plantation house. She touched the long white cream drapes, which were pulled open. The most dramatic aspect of the room, and the one she loved the most, was the wraparound windows. They extended from either side of the entrance in the center of the south wall and down the east and west walls. They yielded an incredible view of the slopes running past the town of Waianae and down to the turquoise and marine-blue Pacific Ocean just beyond it.
Matt took her hand, leading her into the large open-concept kitchen. There were white marble counters with streaks of black running through them, a double sink, a Wolf gas stove, and gold teak cabinets, lending warmth to the kitchen. “I like to cook,” he confided. “You okay with me doing the duty in the kitchen?”
“Better believe it,” Dara said with a smile. She leaned into Matt, sliding her arm around his waist, absorbing the love she could see in his eyes as he placed his arm around her shoulders. “I can cook too, if you need a break.”
“That’s okay,” he murmured, kissing her hair. “This is your vacation. Remember?” At their condo, they split up the cooking duties, but right now Matt wanted her to be free of such things and truly enjoy this vacation with him.
She wandered across the teak floor to a hall that led to a huge master bedroom. “This place is like another world, Matt. It’s so gorgeous. I love the teak, the warmth of the wood, all the win
dows, and seeing all the trees and flowers surrounding this home.” There was a white duvet over the king-sized bed and lots of large jade-green silk pillows leaning against the thick, curved bamboo headboard. Below the bamboo footboard was a bench with cream-colored cushions where one could sit and take off her clothes. The windows were on two sides, their cream drapes drawn back so that the lights of the small towns of Oahu could be seen at night.
“Come see this master bathroom.” Matt grinned. “I don’t think I’ll get you out of it,” he said, chuckling.
Dara stepped into the huge L-shaped bathroom. The floor consisted of small, octagonal tiles, some of them clear glass, the rest in white and every color of the rainbow. After Matt switched on the overhead rice-paper lamps, the floor became an amazing burst of fiery colors, and she was mesmerized by it. There was a huge porcelain claw-foot tub. At the other end was a three-person spa. In the center was a huge, frosted-glass enclosed shower for two with expensive rain heads. There was a double sink, and the counter was the same white marble with black striations as in the kitchen. The mirror was at least eight feet wide and five feet high.
“You’re right. That tub looks really inviting,” she admitted. There were folded fuzzy pink bath towels sitting on the counter, along with washcloths and hand towels. Best of all, Dara saw a huge, red ceramic vase filled with sprays of white and purple of orchids, their sweet fragrance filling the space.
He chuckled. “Bathtubs are a way to your heart, Dara. Let me go bring in our luggage.”
“I can help.”
“Nope,” he said, releasing her, heading for the doorway. “You just get comfortable and think about what you’d like to do with the rest of our day.”
She helped Matt to put their clothes away once he brought in the luggage. The windows were open, and there were birds singing outside. A cooling breeze wound through the bedroom, and she could smell the plumeria. After she finished putting her clothes away, she walked over to Matt, placing her arms around his shoulders. A moment ago he’d looked so intensely focused on his unpacking, but as soon as she came and moved her body against his, sliding her arms around his neck, she saw an instant change, and it warmed her heart. She loved affecting him so powerfully. His gold-brown eyes grew amused.
“Uh-oh, I’m being stalked,” he murmured, turning around and taking her mouth, sliding against her lips.
The world halted. When Matt devoted a hundred percent of his attention to her, Dara felt like the most desired and cherished woman in the world. She loved kissing him, feeling the passion barely restrained in his kiss as he controlled himself for her sake. Moving her hips suggestively against his pelvis, feeling how thick and hard he already was, sent an instant ache and need of him through her.
“Mmm,” she said, easing from his mouth, drowning in the gold intensity of his narrowed eyes. “Now you make me want to stay right here and love you instead of seeing Oahu.”
He smiled a little, moving his hand down her supple spine, the red dress beautiful on her. “Up to you, sweetheart. I’m easy either way. We’re on vacation, and we can do exactly what inspires you.”
She liked being in his arms, leaning against his hard body. “We just had a ten-hour flight, and I’m jet-lagged. Are you?”
Shrugging, Matt said, “Yes and no. In order to adjust to Oahu’s time, we should stay up.” It was nearly noon according to his watch. “Hungry?”
“Well,” she laughed, enjoying the hardness of his cock against her belly, inciting her, making her want to go nowhere, “my body is on East Coast time.”
“Then,” he said lightly, cupping the cheeks of her butt, moving her sensually against him, “let’s do something easy, something that isn’t going to drain us further.”
“Such as?”
“Let me drive you down to Waianae. It’s a pretty seacoast town, nice restaurants, the beach is nearby. You could kick off your sandals and walk in the sand or the ocean itself if you wanted.”
“I like that idea. I love the ocean.”
Matt slid his fingers through her mussed hair, watching the highlights glint beneath the lamplight above them. “Then let’s do that. We’ll be lazy today, just kick back, relax, eat when we’re hungry, rest when we’re tired.”
“And make love?” she suggested, giving him a wicked look, cupping his jaw with her hands, leaning up, taking his mouth. Oh, yes, sex! She was ready to pull him down on the bed with her. His mouth was strong, commanding, and he held her firmly against his pelvis. More heat flooded her, and she lost herself in his mouth.
Matt withdrew from Dara’s full lips, smiling down into her aroused, half-closed blue eyes, clearly seeing the need in them. “I’m easy, Dara. Just tell me what you want and we’ll do it.” Because Dara worked twelve to fourteen hours a day as a resident in pedes at the hospital in Alexandria, she always came home exhausted, so he wanted her to be the rudder on this vacation, not him. “What will it be?”
“As much as I want to love you right now? I’m afraid if I do, I’ll fall asleep afterward and the jet lag will get worse, not better. I want to be able to adjust and be here, not there. Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely,” he murmured, reluctantly releasing her, but not before caressing those fine, plump cheeks of hers hidden beneath that sexy red dress she was wearing. Red always looked good on Dara. The first time he saw her she was wearing that red belly-dancing outfit, those gold coins glimmering and shimmering with every sensual move of her hips.
“Okay,” she sighed, unsure. Matt’s sensuality and animal magnetism were almost too much for her to walk away from. “The beach and ocean it is.” Giving him a playful look, she added, “You’re mine tonight, Matt Culver. All of you.” He was a sexual alpha male, and they enjoyed making love when she wasn’t too exhausted from her medical duties. As Dara eased away, she saw the gleam in his eyes; he was the hunter, and she was his target. It was a delicious feeling to be desired by him, sending even more of an ache into her lower body.
He nodded and growled, “Then let’s go, because if we stay here five more minutes, I’m grabbing you and throwing you on that bed of ours, and I’m going to spend the rest of the day loving you.”
Moaning, she picked up her purse and exited the room.
Once Matt began living with Dara, he’d found out quickly that she enjoyed sex as much as he did. He had become so in tune with Dara that he could sense her exhaustion when she came home at night after work. Dara was very good at hiding it and had fooled him at first. But after noticing that sometimes after they made love, she would awaken the next morning looking more exhausted than the night before, he decided to tamp down his desire for her. He hoped the vacation would let her catch up on her rest. And he’d made her needs a priority over his. Matt grimaced as he adjusted his cock beneath his jeans, giving him a little more breathing room, and the ache lessened. This was Dara’s vacation. And he intended to let her tell him what she needed.
*
The aquamarine ocean water was warm and felt delicious over Dara’s bare feet. Her sandals hung from the fingers of Matt’s left hand. The sea breeze infused her with a peaceful feeling, as did the cries of seagulls sailing overhead. Walking on a golden, sandy beach, ankle-deep in the ocean water, made her feel so alive. Matt had taken off his sandals as well. The noontime warmth of the sun fell over her; the temperature was perfect, in the high seventies. The early January weather in Hawaii was very different from the climate she’d left back home in Virginia!
Every once in a while, Dara would spot a small shell in the clear ocean water, and she would stop, lean over, and retrieve her new treasure. Matt knew that locals here would get up at dawn, come down, and scour the beach for shells that had washed up during the night hours. By noon, the beaches were cleaned of any beautiful, whole shells that had been deposited. But Dara delighted in the pieces of colorful shells that she found, holding them like treasures in her hand. His heart swelled with love for her; she was one of those people who delighted in whatever she was doi
ng.
He stopped her and said, “Why don’t you put your shells in the pocket of your dress?”
Laughing, she opened her palm, showing him the shards. “They’re so beautiful I just want to hold them for a while. Even though they’re fractured and in pieces, I want to collect a bunch of them while we’re here. I’ve decided to put them in a small glass goblet with the sand I’m walking on. Next time we come down here, I’ll bring some plastic bags. I want to bring some of Hawaii home with us, where I can see it every day.”
“So,” he said, moving his finger through her many shell pieces, “you’re going to put that glass somewhere you can see it to remember this time?” He melted beneath the joy he saw shining in her eyes, those lips so lush, so kissable, and he ached to do just that.
Dara smiled and nodded. “I’m putting this on the desk in my office at the hospital. On tough days, I can sit there and look at it and remember this time with you.”
Leaning over, he caressed her smiling mouth with his. Matt could taste the salt air on her lips, the mocha latte she’d had earlier before they walked down to the beach. Easing away, he rasped, “I’m taking a heart photo of you right now …” He brought her gently to a stop, easing her against his body, feeling her breasts pressing into his chest, that low, husky sound of pleasure vibrating in her throat as he kissed her long and well. She was such a sensual, sexual creature, although most would never see it. He sure had when she belly-danced at Bagram. And he’d been privileged to go with her to the gym where she worked out and belly-danced to stay in top shape. They always ended up in bed after that, each of them turned on by the other.
Dara closed her eyes, drowning in Matt’s cherishing mouth, his arm around her, bringing her into the fold of his tall, lean, hard body. Everything was perfect. Just perfect.
*
Over lunch at a small seafood restaurant near the beach, Dara sat at a picnic table beneath a white awning, watching the ceaseless activity of the ocean and the small waves splashing their foamy life against the gold sands of the beach. “This is a dream, Matt.” She reached out, gripping his hand, giving his fingers a squeeze.
Never Enough: Delos Series, 3B1 Page 3
