Cupid

by Jade Eby

  Throughout the whole tour, Diana tried to keep her questions to herself. But after the tenth room with a huge portrait of his mother, Diana could no longer stifle her urge to bring the woman up. “So these are paintings of your mother?”

  “Yes.” He guided them out of the study. “She likes seeing herself in every room.”

  Still, I don’t think I would have kept them up after she died.

  The last article on Asher’s mother was her obituary. She’d died in a huge fire on the Bishop grounds. There’d been no police investigation or anything further.

  Maybe Asher will tell me more about what happened. Well, that’s if he was comfortable enough to reveal it to me. God, listen to me. I’m always on the story. Leave this alone, Diana. Cupid is the one I’m supposed to be focused on, not Asher Bishop. Who cares about his past?

  Diana followed Asher as they walked down the hallway. “And now that your mother’s gone, you keep the paintings up in her memory.”

  He captured Diana’s hand and led her up the stairs. “She’s never really gone.”

  She’s never really gone? Even though it’s been years, it must still be too difficult to heal from.

  An hour later, Asher showed her the last room.

  Hers.

  It was spacious with a king bed, a luscious armoire, walk-in closet, and big windows that looked out onto a field of pink roses. The bathroom was connected and the deep slate cream marbling on the floor stunned her.

  "This is captivating," Diana said under her breath.

  "Would you expect anything less from such a captivating man?" He asked her.

  “I guess not.”

  “Everything is here for you, and more.”

  “More?”

  “Whatever you need?”

  “I don’t need much.”

  “Then, whatever you want.” He licked his lips.

  “I don’t want much.”

  “You should.”

  “You’re a woman that deserves to be taken care of.”

  “That’s right.” She tapped her forehead. “I forgot about that.”

  “One should never forget the fact that they are desperately in need of getting laid.”

  She laughed then.

  It was unexpected.

  She hadn't laughed in months. And the timing? Terrible. But there she was, staring at Asher with a feeling. An emotion she couldn't quite put her finger on. She didn't want to find out what it was either. She had more important things to focus on.

  "Well. . .I'm exhausted. Thank you for the tour and the accommodations though I still believe I don't need them."

  Asher looked at her—no, that's wrong—he looked through her. Like he was trying to find all the secrets she locked up tight. His gaze moved up and down her body, a laser of appreciation that she couldn’t ignore.

  Diana swore if he spent one more second looking at her, she'd burst into flames.

  She'd crumble like ashes at his feet.

  But, he looked away and edged back. “It’s getting late. I'll see you in the morning.”

  "Right. See you in the morning."

  Asher closed the door behind him and Diana flew to the bathroom to cool off the heat rushing through her skin.

  There’s no way I can do more than two days. I’m glad I decided not to stay longer.

  She turned the nozzle to frigid. She needed to shock herself out of whatever was coursing through her. She stuck a hand out and the water was paralyzing. It did the trick, for a few seconds.

  Asher. Asher.

  She stuck a foot under the stream and every burning thought of Asher slipped away. All she could focus on was the shock of frozen droplets pricking her flesh over and over again.

  "Finally," she said aloud, shutting the nozzle off and walked into the bedroom.

  Sometime during the bathroom break, all of her bags had been stacked in the corner, but she was too exhausted to deal with them. Diana wanted to close her eyes and float away into slumber. She undressed and slipped under the duvet and moaned when her skin met with silk sheets.

  "Damn you, Asher." The silk caressed her flesh like a lover's fingertips. She shivered against the cool fabric, imagining how she must look in the big bed by herself.

  And that thinking, brought her back to thoughts of Asher.

  What does he look like in a matching bed with similar glorious sheets? What would he look like in this bed, with me, naked?

  Heat pooled between her thighs.

  No, no, no. I will not masturbate to this man, while lying in his bed.

  Asher was not part of her plan to solve the case of Cupid. He was her funding, yes, but he needed to stay out of her way. She couldn't have him invading her space or her every thought. She needed to be clear-headed and focused.

  Maybe, I can think about this more. . .after the investigation. . .after Neil’s funeral, and all the problems that have come from his death.

  She shut off the lamp on the bedside table. Darkness spilled around her. There wasn't a sliver of light anywhere and for a moment, Diana was frightened.

  What if Cupid came to kill Asher and he believed she'd done something wrong? What if Asher was right and Cupid was set on revenge? Had Asher really taken all the proper precautions to protect them from this madman who was set on destroying the rich men of Ovid Island?

  Stop it right now. You are Diana fucking Carson, not some scared little girl.

  The rising tension in her shoulders evaporated into nothing. She believed in her voice of reason. Relished it. She was Diana Carson, a great reporter and the person who would blow Cupid's identity right open.

  And as Diana fell asleep with images of bows and arrows and gaping holes in chests, a visceral thought came to the forefront.

  She was going to lure Cupid out of hiding.

  Her plan could be a simple one.

  Not too complex.

  She just had to talk it over with Asher.

  What if we got an actor or someone to be Cupid’s bait? What if we got an actor to pretend to be this rich guy on the island that harmed females? But then who would volunteer for that? No way. Cupid was smart. He wouldn’t believe that.

  Another thought hit her.

  Asher could pretend to be the bait, but then that would put him in harm’s way.

  Would he agree to that? Probably not. But it could be something that worked.

  Scenarios littered her mind. Tons of possibilities kept her awake. With Asher’s money and willingness to help, somehow, she would catch Cupid red-handed.

  Thirteen

  Cupid

  I said more than I should have.

  In his secret security room within the mansion, Asher leaned back in his chair and stared at the monitors in front of him. Every room had a hidden camera in the ceiling. The bedroom that he’d put Diana in, held four.

  On the television screen in front of him, Diana slept in her bed. Shadows and moonlight bathed her. Due to the night vision cameras, the images glowed in a green hue.

  Something is on her mind? What is it? Cupid or me? She didn’t seem like she was scared at all, when she argued about only being with me for two days. But, something is clearly bothering her.

  For several more hours, he watched Diana toss and turn in the big bed, whispering something out loud whenever she woke out of her sleep for a few seconds.

  “What’s bothering you, Diana? Did I say too much?”

  Diana rolled over and placed her back to that camera.

  Annoyed, Asher directed his attention to the other tv screen on the right, that now showed her sleeping face.

  “Two days. That’s all.” His hard cock ached at the thought. He’d been erect since Diana arrived, and wasn’t sure his length would ever go down. Clearly, watching her on the monitors wasn’t helping.

  Every cell in his body screamed to go fuck her.

  “Fine. Two days. That’s all I need.” He gripped his cock, but refused to rub or stroke it.

  It’s bad enough that I’ve been watc
hing her in her home, and now mine. I won’t start jacking off to her like a complete sexual deviant.

  For the rest of the night, he held himself, but didn’t do anymore. Diana rolled over a few more times, and even whispered his name on her tongue.

  And, like an active volcano, violent flames lapped at his core.

  Hours passed.

  He didn’t sleep.

  He just watched her like a mad man, heating up even more until he could’ve sworn that sweat beaded along his forehead.

  This isn’t enough. I want to smell her too. I want that scent in my nose for the rest of the night.

  So he rose from his chair, left his hidden room, shut the door, and headed upstairs to smell Diana.

  She can’t catch me doing this. She’ll think I’m a creep. . .as she should.

  Fourteen

  Diana

  Diana opened her eyes and was face to face with Asher. She let out a yelp before hugging the covers to her chest. "What the—"

  “Sorry.” He sat on the bed right next to her with the oddest look on his face, part madness, part pure enjoyment.

  A shiver of fear and. . .even weirder, lust shot to her veins. She formed her mouth to speak, and couldn’t gather her words.

  "It's eight o'clock.” He showed her his watch. “I figured you for an early riser. I was worried."

  “You were worried?” Diana scrunched her face together. Every minute she spent in Asher's presence got stranger and stranger.

  “Yes, I was worried.” He ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. It looked like he’d been disturbing those curls all night, just messing with his head due to worry or whatever obsession he had.

  “So. . .” She made note of how close he was too her on the bed.

  How long has he been sitting here? How long was he watching me sleep? Was he watching me, or did I wake up, right as he sat down?

  He cleared his throat. “I should probably go.”

  She looked at what he had on.

  Wasn’t he wearing that yesterday?

  “How was your sleep?” he asked, without getting up or moving away.

  “More important,” she gestured to his day old outfit. “How was your sleep?”

  “I didn’t go to bed.”

  “Clearly.” She let out a nervous giggle. “Hopefully, you didn’t stay up all night, sitting in here, and watching me.”

  “Yes. Hopefully.” Heat lingered in his gaze. “That would just be crazy.”

  “Yes,” she muttered.

  “Regardless, I didn’t get much sleep last night, but then, as they say, who needs rest anyway. I can sleep when I die."

  Something imperceptible fell over his face as if he wanted to both cringe and laugh. Diana thought she knew everything Asher was about, but she was figuring out how very wrong she was.

  “So. . .” She took her time, sitting up. She’d worn nothing to bed and only slept under a thin sheet. It barely concealed anything—providing a lovely view to Asher of her shape and so much more. Even worse, her dark nipples had stiffened with hunger and were presently poking at the thin material over her chest.

  She cleared her throat. “So.”

  Asher stared down at her breast and inhaled the air in front of him. “So?”

  "I’ll just get ready and meet you downstairs?"

  “Okay.” He didn't move. His gaze stayed glued to Diana's chest. She felt stuck, naked under the covers with Asher staring at her like he wanted to devour her.

  "Asher?"

  "You are a very beautiful woman. Did you know that?"

  Diana pursed her lips together.

  His behavior was odd, but he was being nice—more than nice—but it also made her squirm to be under his watchful, judging eye. Plus, she probably had bad breath and morning hair. She didn't think beautiful was the right term for him to use.

  "Um, thank you."

  "You're aware of what you do to men like me, yes?"

  Diana shifted beneath the covers and held them closer to her skin. "Are you referring to the intimidation men like you feel in my presence?"

  Asher laughed and it shook the bed. "I'm sure you intimidate many men, but no, Diana, you don't intimidate me. You fascinate me."

  "How so?" She asked, a small but recognizable desire expanding in her belly.

  "Your eyes light up when you talk about hunting Cupid. You’re dedicated to your job. And those lips appear to be deliciously kissable and yet. . ." His voice trailed off making Diana wonder what he meant to say.

  She needed to hear the rest of his words. The burning desire was beginning to work its way up her limbs. "Yes?"

  "Let's just say, you should be kissed and by someone who knows how.”

  Diana arched her eyebrows. "Why, Mr. Bishop, you couldn't come up with anything more exciting than a well-used line from Rhett Butler?"

  Asher didn't laugh or smile, he just looked at her with intensity raging in his eyes. "Although a fictional character, Rhett’s words don't mean any less hundreds of years later, Diana. He meant them to Scarlett and I mean them to you. You're a woman who deserves more than . . .what you've been given."

  "You barely know me.”

  "I know enough.” He leaned his head toward hers and captured her mouth.

  Oh my God.

  Diana's body waged a war inside of her. Her brain told her to stop him. To remember the craziness of him being in her room like he was. She wanted to pull away before their lips became forever intertwined, but the

  thump,

  thump,

  thumps of her heart told her to stay still. To let Asher Bishop kiss her like she'd never been kissed before.

  And he did.

  His lips smashed into hers and every vein inside of Diana thrummed.

  Every sensation,

  every sound,

  everything was amplified.

  There was magic in a man’s mouth.

  Asher traced her jawline with his thumb. Like a thirsty man, he yanked away her sheet and cupped her right breast with his other. Jesus, he was fast.

  He knew what he was doing.

  He knew how to rile Diana up without even fucking her.

  He’d been right when he made the statement at The Cove.

  She had never been taken care of properly by a real man,

  never experienced a kiss like his before.

  An all-consuming hunger filled her stomach, lungs, and heart.

  She starved for him, desired more and more.

  Asher pulled back and Diana's sheet lay in her lap, exposing the top half of her body to him. Those perky brown breasts greeted his eyes.

  Diana didn’t reach to cover herself back up. Her nipples and everything else were his for the taking, in that moment and he seemed to consider it.

  But instead of taking her right there, he reared back, a scowl lining his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry.” He jumped up, his hard dick pushed against his pants and caught all of Diana’s attention.

  She wanted to touch it, see his cock in real time, instead of imagining it over and over in her head. “What do you mean, you’re sorry?”

  He edged away from the bed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  And then he raced from the room.

  Diana opened her mouth, and for the second time that morning, had nothing to say.

  In one second, Asher had been on her bed, devouring her lips.

  In the next second, he ran out of there like his cock was on fire and he needed to plunge in a tub of water.

  He was there and then he wasn't, and Diana wondered if it had all been a dream. A sick, twisted dream that she suddenly wanted to be reality.

  She pinched herself hard, and yelped, “Okay. So that crazy shit really just happened.”

  No, it had not been a dream. Asher Bishop had just woken her up, kissed her as no man had done before, and then ran away like a creepy person.

  She fell onto the bed.

>   This situation with Asher gets crazier and crazier.

  Fifteen

  Cupid

  He ran away, because he was scared.

  It didn’t matter that there was no logic in his reasoning.

  It didn’t matter that she probably thought he should be committed to a mental facility.

  He just knew that he couldn’t touch Diana anymore, without giving up a part of himself.

  That morning hadn’t start like he’d planned. He’d hoped to seduce Diana, not kiss her like a teenager, and then run out the room like some virginal jerk.

  That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

  Asher avoided Diana the rest of the day, skipped breakfast, and headed to the office without leaving her a message.

  I’ll come up with some explanation later. She probably thinks I’m crazy. And what about her saying that she’ll only stay for a few days. No. That can’t happen. I need to know what she’s doing to me.

  The kiss changed things, made his heart beat faster and his hands tighten around her body as he held her. Asher hadn’t wanted to let go, and that scared him the most. All of his life a treacherous woman ruled his days and ordered him to do horrific things. Well, not anymore.

  He wouldn’t have another woman with that much power over him.

  All I want to do is taste her tongue again, just one more time. I just have to be more in control, next time I touch her.

  Yet, Asher hid in his office and piled himself under work all day. He couldn’t sit in the mansion with Diana, walking around and spreading her presence all over the place.

  She smelled so good, I sat by her side all night, breathing her in the whole time. That can’t be one of the twelve steps of intimacy, the step where the man hovers over the sleeping women and sniffs.

  Last night, he’d been unable to get control of himself. Her scent alone had him stroking himself.

  While she slept, she had no idea what danger lay next to her. The things that played in his mind, scared even him. He’d thought that killing had made him hungry, that the smell of blood was an adrenaline rush.

  He was wrong.