Temptation

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  “Why?” I ask incredulously.

  He shrugs his wide shoulders. “Would you? Please.”

  “Why should I? Give me one good reason. You’ve treated me like I have some kind of disease for the last two months,” I snap, abandoning my coffee. It’s starting to taste sticky like tar in my mouth.

  “Because I want you to.”

  I finish packing my bag for the weekend. I called April and she said it was fine to miss work on Monday. I think she feels like she owes me after the whole Mac debacle.

  Those five words Siva said keep running through my mind. Because I want you to.

  Because he probably wants to kill you where there will be less evidence.

  I zip the suitcase up and drag it down the steps. It thumps behind me like I’m the one hiding a dead body.

  “Ready?”

  “Yep,” I say, following him into the elevator. He has an expensive looking duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. What’s the need to spend so much on something you shove your clothes into? It makes no sense to me. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now? I promise not to run away.” I smile as we climb out of the elevator and step into the garage.

  “Brighton,” he answers, “to the beach. I have a place there.” He clicks a button and a sleek sports car hums to life. He pushes another button and the trunk pops open. The car is sleek and obviously expensive like everything else he owns. I try to figure out what it was.

  “Siva, this car looks like spaceship.”

  He chuckles. “It’s not able to take us to space. I promise.”

  “What is it?”

  “Acura NSX,” he replies, dropping his duffel bag in the trunk and taking my bag and doing the same.

  The car is a smoky gray color and the shape of it is sleek. I want to run my fingers down it in appreciation but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  He closes the trunk with a soft clicking sound. This isn’t the kind of car you haphazardly bang doors closed on.

  He hops into the car. I shake my head and climb in. I’ve never been inside a sports car before, but I’ve always admired them from afar. It sits so low to the ground I think my butt might touch asphalt.

  “Ready?” he asks, but he’s already racing out of the garage. The NSX hums pleasantly as it races down the streets.

  “You do realize it’s June and Brighton will be busy?”

  “I am aware,” he says, his lips twitching with amusement. “But I have a place there and I want to go to the beach.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly, pulling out my sunglasses. I don’t really need them with the tinted windows, but it adds a layer of protection from Siva.

  “At least you fixed your hair,” he mutters under his breath.

  Behind my glasses, I roll my eyes.

  What have you gotten yourself into?

  ***

  With traffic it takes almost two hours to reach Brighton. I’m ready to crawl out of my skin by then. Siva pulls in the driveway of a white townhouse on the end. It has a bay window on both levels and molding all around it. It kind of reminds me of the row houses in San Francisco.

  “We’re here,” he announces unnecessarily.

  “It’s nice,” I comment, and I mean it. It’s cute. Cozy, even.

  “Thanks.” He slips out of the car.

  I follow. He’s always going and I’m always following. It’s really annoying. “You don’t strike me as a beach dweller. What with the whole …” I motion to his long sleeves and jeans, not wanting to say the words aloud.

  “I’m not,” he admits, slipping a pair of expensive sunglasses on. “I bought this place as an investment. But I thought … I thought you may enjoy it.” He runs his fingers through his hair, looking away from me.

  “Oh.”

  He grabs his bag and I take mine. He leads me up the steps to the front door. He puts a key and swings the door open.

  The floors are a light, beached wood. A staircase leads upstairs directly in front of me. The family room to the left is painted a pale yellow as are the walls in the small foyer. I can see the kitchen from here and the walls there are painted a pale blue. Everything is light and airy. Out back I can see a white pale stretch of beach.

  Siva closes the door and flicks a light switch. I look above me at the sudden blinding light. It looks like an old fashioned fishing lantern.

  “Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft, almost shy.

  “It’s great,” I say honestly. “Homey,” I add.

  I haven’t even seen the full place yet and I think I’m in love. It’s cute and light and there’s something comforting about it.

  Siva puts his bag down by the bottom step and I place mine beside it.

  He puts his hands on his hips and glances around the place. He rubs his neck and sighs. Nervous, anxious, Siva is highly amusing to me for some reason. I love seeing him squirm uncomfortably simply because I always feel that way around him. “I used to love the beach. Before …” he trails off quietly and tugs on his long sleeves.

  “You shouldn’t be self-conscious,” I tell him, my eyes taking in his gesture. “Everyone has scars. Some you can see … and some you can’t.” I look away from him and to the floor.

  “Still,” he begins, “it bothers me. I can’t help it.”

  “You don’t have to hide yourself with me,” I say, and mean it. I won’t judge him, even if he makes me angry most of the time. We all deserve to have someone we can be real with.

  He looks up at me, startled.

  I wring my hands together, my cheeks flooding with color. My heart beats a mile a minute. “I want to get to know you,” I begin slowly, searching for the words. “The real you. Not the businessman. Scars and all.”

  “Scars and all,” he repeats as if in a trance. “No one’s ever wanted to get to know me before.”

  “I do,” I say honestly.

  That’s all I’ve wanted from day one. To know him.

  “What if I’m not the person you think or want me to be? I’ve done some bad, crazy shit in my life.”

  “Siva, you are who you are. I am who I am. Our past makes us who we are. I want to know why you are, well … you.”

  He comes toward me, hope in his eyes. It’s an emotion I’ve never seen shine in their depths before. “Do you mean that?” he asks, fear lacing the words. I get the impression hope is a feeling that’s been absent from his life for way too long.

  “I never say anything unless I mean it.” I swallow, and it feels like my heart is lodged in my throat. His inquisitive violet eyes bore into mine.

  I suddenly find myself pushed against the wall by the steps. His arms are unexpectedly around me. His lips hover a breath away from mine and I think I stop breathing. I know I stop breathing.

  “You confound me,” he breathes. My heart flutters and my eyes lower. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. He confounds me, not the other way around.

  “I …” I try to say something, anything.

  “It’s killing me, Sloane.”

  And then his glorious lips are on mine.

  I feel light headed.

  “Sloane,” he murmurs softly, pulling away when I start to fall out of his arms. “It’s killing me to fight this. I can’t. I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

  I sway and his arms steady me.

  “Are you okay?” he inquires. His lips quirk with amusement. “I might have to refrain from kissing you if you’re going to faint.”

  “No, don’t.” I find my voice and twist my fingers into his light green sweater, plastering my body against his. He bends his lips to mine once more.

  I think my heart is going to beat out of my chest and flop right onto the ground in front of me. My knees are weak. My toes are curled. And my lips … oh, my lips. Nothing has ever felt this good before. I feel tingly all over. I’ve never been kissed like this. I can feel the passion rolling off of him in waves and I’m sure he can feel my desire.

  I didn’t know a kiss could be like this. So magi
cal. So all consuming. It’s incredible and I can’t help but feel like every kiss I’ve had before has been leading to this one. That makes me both sad and exhilarated.

  “Siva,” I moan his name, and my fingers move from his shirt to tangle in his hair. The scent of sandalwood, of him, invades my airways rendering my brain useless.

  He groans, a throaty and raw sound that vibrates throughout my body, and desire pools in my belly.

  He pulls away, his lips lifting, and his scar stands out prominently.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits, gently tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “I’m glad you finally did,” I whisper, breathless. He’s stolen all the air in my lungs, I’m sure of it.

  He keeps me there, against the wall, staring into my eyes.

  “Let’s go to beach.”

  “Scars and all?” I asked.

  “Scars and all.”

  This man tempts me in more ways than I ever thought possible. And temptation? It can be deadly.

  ***

  We carry our bags upstairs. There are three rooms. Siva takes the master and I pick the yellow room. I’m noticing a reoccurring theme of yellow and blue. Siva gives me a peculiar look when I go into the room but doesn’t comment.

  He’s crazy if he thinks after one, okay two, kisses I’m going to jump into bed with him. Oh no, this doesn’t work like that. My attraction to him might’ve been there since day one, but I do have my morals and sleeping together after one kiss goes against all of them.

  I close the door behind me, put my suitcase on the bed, and look for my bikini. When Siva told me to pack he had told me to be sure and have a swimsuit.

  The orange bikini is the only one I currently own. Dev and I had bought it at a little boutique near his dad’s beach house.

  Dev.

  Would Dev approve of my relationship with his brother? Oh, God. What am I going to do? I’m falling hard for Siva. In fact, I’ve never felt like this before. But is it fair to Dev? Is it fair to me? How can I give up on this fledgling relationship I have with Siva because Dev might not approve?

  Dev’s gone. Gone-gone, as in not coming back. Dead, Sloane. You have to move on. You have to live your life. That’s what Dev would want. He’d want you to live. To find love again. It’s not your fault you found something in his brother. We don’t choose you we fall in love with, we just do, that’s the beauty of love. It truly is blind.

  I finger the orange material. I can see Dev clearly in my mind. His dark wavy locks and dark brown almost black eyes. In my vision he gives me my favorite goofy smile of his.

  “Sloane, you would look amazing in this. I love you in orange. It brings out the highlights in your hair,” Dev said.

  “I’ll try it on,” I said to please him. He grinned.

  I took the skimpy fabric from his hands and strode into one of the empty dressing rooms. I closed the door and shimmied out of my khaki shorts and army green polo shirt. I slipped on the bikini.

  “Let me see,” Dev begged, standing outside the door.

  I opened it, blushing.

  He whistled. “You look amazing. I’ll buy it for you.” He leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “if you promise I get to take it off of you later.” My tanned skin blushed crimson. Dev could always do this to me. His long fingers played with the strings holding the material securely to my chest. His dark eyes were hypnotizing me.

  “Deal.”

  I snap back into reality, dropping the bikini onto the bed. I can’t wear it. I can’t wear something Dev bought me around Siva. Not something as skimpy as a bikini.

  “Hey Siva?” I call out.

  “Yes?” he answers, coming out of the master bedroom in a pair of navy swim trunks and a long sleeved white V-neck shirt.

  “I need a swimsuit,” I say softly.

  His eyes flash from violet to gray.

  “I thought you had one.”

  I scramble my brain for a plausible lie. “Uh … it has a stain on it.”

  “There’s a place right down the road you can get one.”

  At least he doesn’t seem angry.

  He has on a pair of black flip-flops and sunglasses rest on the dip of his shirt. He heads downstairs, and after I grab my beach bag I do the same.

  Right down the road turns out to be two miles so we take the NSX. That’s fine by me. The car is a dream. Siva pulls up outside the store. It’s exploding with hot pink and green.

  “You can wait here,” I tell him.

  “I think I’ll join you,” he says, climbing out of the car.

  “Oookay,” I say to the now empty car.

  I get out of the car and follow him into the store. Some kind of pop music plays over the speakers. The girl behind the counter moves with the music while she checks someone out and obnoxiously pops her gum. The store is full of beach clothes, swimsuits, sunglasses, hats, anything you need for the beach can be found here. I head for the rack full of swimsuits and scan it. I pull out a gold colored bikini that reminds me of my eyes.

  “That will look great on you,” says a voice over my shoulder. Startled, I jump.

  “Siva! Don’t do that! You scared me!” I was never this jumpy before Mac tried to rape me. Now everything scares me. I get angry when it happens, because it feels like I’ve been robbed of something. Maybe it’s silly, but that’s how I feel.

  “Sorry,” he says, and his eyes darken. No doubt he knows why he scared me and it takes him back to the same dark place I go to. What sucks though is being angry about it doesn’t change it. It still happened. And while it could’ve been worse, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t bad.

  I don’t bother trying it on. I know it will fit. I plop it down in front of the teenage girl working the counter along with a floppy hat to keep the sun out of my eyes. She snaps her gum. I wave my hand in a “can we speed up the process” way. She blows a bubble with her gum and scans the items as slowly as humanly possible. I pay her and she hands me the bag.

  “Thanks,” I say to her, even though she’s gotten on my nerves.

  We drive back to the house and I change into my new swimsuit. I look down at the orange one in my hands.

  “I’m sorry, Dev,” I whisper, and toss it into the trashcan.

  ***

  Siva is standing in the kitchen sipping a beer when I come down.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” I say, tugging on the loose one-piece. I guess I should have tried it on. I’ve lost weight since the incident and I didn’t factor that in. But hopefully I’ll start eating again and get back to my normal weight. I miss my curves.

  Siva slides open the back glass doors and we step out on a deck and then down onto the beach. A family plays nearby with their dog. A couple of teenagers are setting up a volleyball game. Many people splash in the water. Siva picks out a spot and lays down a couple of beach blankets. He plops down on one and I sit down beside him. It’s hot out, but not Georgia humid hot at least. I put on my sunglasses so I won’t have to squint and stick my floppy hat on to keep the sun from burning my face.

  I tug on the sleeve of Siva’s white shirt. “Scars and all,” I remind him.

  He sighs and begins to tug off his shirt. His gloriously toned chest greets my eyes. Siva is tall and lean but not bulky. But there’s a current running over his skin that would make me very afraid to get in a fight with him. I don’t know how he has the time to work out. All he does is work. He’ll usually finish dinner and then disappear into his office where I can hear him in a shouting match with someone on the phone.

  His scars speckle his arms and chest, his legs and feet—he’s riddled with them.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. But I mean them. He is beautiful. The most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. He has his flaws, we all do, but I see past them to the good shining underneath. The problem is, most people never stop to look past the surface to find it.

  He laughs harshly
. “Hardly. I’m flawed, Sloane. Inside and out. For you to understand you’re going to have to know my past.”

  Siva has never volunteered any information about his past. He never asks about mine, either. I have a feeling Siva isn’t one to live in the past but more one to move forward and strive for the future.

  “So tell me,” I plead. “Make me understand.” I lift a handful of sand and then let it sift through my fingers. I don’t want to push him but I’m immensely curious. I’ve picked up on bits and pieces here and there. Like when he told me about being pushed through the window and about his sister but that’s it.

  He seems to be gathering his thoughts. He has one leg stretched out and the other propped up at the knee.

  “My dad … is … well, you know him. He is who he is. He wasn’t quite so bad when we were little but he was still like this. My mom was the complete opposite. She was happy and light and she always smelled like home. But my dad didn’t really want a wife or kids, he wanted us for show. He wanted to appear as a family man. My mom was okay with it and so were my siblings.

  “But I wasn’t. I didn’t want to be controlled but when I was young I didn’t have much choice. He made us go to the best schools, boarding schools so were weren’t in his way, and he made us learn an instrument. He picked piano for me.”

  “I’ve never seen you play,” I remark, remembering the grand piano in his flat.

  “I actually like it,” he admits, “but I’d never tell my father. I don’t play much anymore. It brings back too many memories. Bad ones. I hated feeling like a show pony and that’s the way our father treated us. I’m the oldest. He wanted me to take over the business. He wanted my brother to work beside me and my sister to stay home and have kids. He had our lives planned out. We weren’t supposed to object. Devak and Saia were fine with it. Even as teenagers. But I wasn’t okay with being controlled.” He laughs roughly. “I guess I’m too much like my father in that way.”

  “You’re nothing like Rajas,” I say adamantly. I don’t like him thinking he’s like he’s father. Yeah he has his mood swings, but he’s not evil and his father … that man is pure evil.