Island Treasures

ISLAND TREASURES BOOK 1 by

Rusty Wicks

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS Whiskey Creek Press PO Box 51052 Casper, WY 82605-1052 www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright © 2007 by Rusty Wicks Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. ISBN 978-1-60313-173-5

Credits Cover Artist: Molly Courtright Editor: Debbie Doggett Printed in the United States of America

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT JACKIE’S BEANSTALK “Jackie’s Beanstalk by Rusty Wicks is hot, sexy and fun! I was totally immersed in this story from the very first page... I got such a kick out of this take on the old fairytale. Ms. Wicks has a sense of humor that makes this story shine... The old story has been tweaked so it all seems new and I felt like I was climbing the beanstalk for the first time. The world above the beanstalk was as realistic and vivid as Jackie’s ordinary world. I wondered how the two would finally combine. I wanted this couple to find happiness in a way I never expected. When I’d read the fairytale I never cared about the giant. Jackie’s Beanstalk made me care about Gabe. Jackie’s Beanstalk shows that dreams do come true and happily-ever-after isn’t only for fairytales! A must read!” Marlene Fallen Angels 5 Angels

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT TORRID TEASERS VOLUME 38 “This delightful book introduced us to two separate couples with sensual relationships which happened quickly! The only correlation between the two is the love felt between the two pairs is that they were immediately drawn to the other and, even though their attraction was rapid, it was not aggressive or overpowering... The characters were well developed and active; there were not an abundance of sub characters, mostly inferred, but the ideas were fresh and entertaining. The sensual scenes were few and tastefully written, but not very explicit. I highly recommend this book by Ms. Wicks for fun, sexy, quick reads.”

Brenda The Romance Studio 4 1/ 2 Hearts

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT SAMHAIN SCORCHERS ANTHOLOGY “...One Way to Venice by Rusty Wicks nearly tore my heart with its bitter-sweet agony. The pain and sadness of the characters all but tears your soul. Yet, Ms. Wicks provides hope and a promise of a new future… It is one book I would recommend to everyone looking for a good time, an escape from reality, and also to anyone who wants to witness the magic of love happen across places, planes, and between unique individuals. Of course, the scorching sex scenes and the blazing heat in every story do help as well. But for once, the heat does not override the story, and is just one part of a bigger whole. “A delightful read, to be highly recommended.” Zee Enchanting Reviews 5 Enchantments

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT CHRISTMAS CANDY ANTHOLOGY “Kudos to Whiskey Creek Press Torrid for putting together a fabulous collection of sexy holiday stories by some super talented authors guaranteed to warm the cold winter nights. Not a single entry disappoints. From sexy vamps, and rugged wilderness guides to aggressive elves and romantic ghosts, there’s something here for everyone. Highly recommended.” Jennie

Enchanted Ramblings Five Wands! “Whiskey Creek Press presents Christmas Candy, an anthology featuring some of the best talent in steamy romance. Whether it’s a naughty little poem, a moody elf, or a spooky vampire seeking release, these stories will please any reader seeking a little Christmas cheer.” Ash Arceneaux Rites of Romance Reviews

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT IRISH EYES “Irish Eyes is steamy romp through the culture and history of Ireland. Ms. Wicks writing is hot and descriptive, a wonderful pairing for a story you can curl up with.” Mira Paranormal Romance Reviews

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT SUMMER SOLSTICE SCORCHERS ANTHOLOGY “SUMMER SOLSTICE is a fun-filled anthology which readers of various types of paranormal stories will thoroughly enjoy. Each story provides an entertaining plot, fascinating characters, unexpected events, and truly hot sex. Vampires, fortune tellers, ghosts, witches, demons, wizards and elves all come to life within the pages of this book. Every story is vastly different and I found myself eagerly jumping from one story to the next anticipating yet another fascinating tale. SUMMER SOLSTICE gives readers an exciting opportunity to discover new-to-you authors and several different types of

paranormal stories which are represented. It's the perfect way to kick back and enjoy the summer heat.” Chrissy Dionne Romance Junkies Rating: 4.5 blue ribbons

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT THE MEAD STEED “The Mead Steed by Rusty Wicks is a witty contemporary erotic romance… This is one of those feel-good stories that makes you remember that everyone isn’t perfect. Overcoming differences, building relationships and finding happiness are the themes in The Mead Steed. Rusty Wicks has shown us that everyone deserves to love and be loved, even if that means working hard to find it. I was charmed and entertained by The Mead Steed.” Marlen Fallen Angel Reviews Five Angels “The Mead Steed is a fun fast paced story with quite a few well written steamy scenes. It is an enjoyable read… Rusty Wicks obviously enjoys writing humorous scenes and does a good job in this story. This story is for you if you can’t resist a hot man, irresistible girl and a Moose or two thrown in.” Tanya Joyfully Reviewed.com “In my honest opinion, The Mead Stead was far too short. The characters of Tom and Rose were just so real and so human—and that is very rare in a romance novel or a novel of any kind these days that I was very happy for them that they

got there chance at a new start together. But I was disappointed that it had to end for the readers so soon. “Overall well done, Rusty, very well done.” Karen Enchanting Reviews 4 Enchantments

Dedication For everyone who dreams of hot sand, warm azure waves and finding love on a deserted island!

SQUALLS, HVAR by

Rusty Wicks

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Chapter 1 “Please, be careful with this one. Fragile. Fra-gile. It’s fragile, do you understand?” Abby reached for the shiny silver container and lifted it gently from the dock to the waiting arms of the muscular man who stood on the ferry. A gold tooth glittered as he took her case and set it beside him with more care than she’d expected. Although she doubted his ability to understand English, her wide-eyed look, friendly smile and incessant head nodding must have bridged the language barrier. Either that or it was the fact that she was the only woman on the dock who didn’t have black hair, brown eyes and a mustache. That may have helped her cause—and her camera equipment. Whatever the reason for his friendliness, Abby was grateful. She just wanted to get her stuff transported without anything getting broken. This trip was going to be difficult enough without starting off with cracked lenses. Or worse. Hefting her duffel bag to her shoulder, she reached out and grasped the hand the swarthy sailor offered. Her hand, small and fine-boned, disappeared inside his beefy grip as she stepped onto the deck and smiled up at him. “Thank you. Thank you very much for your help.” She smiled so broadly her face felt stretched. It was the last smile 2

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she had in her, too. Exhausted from a series of trans-global flights, she knew one more smile would lay her flat. Just one. “You. Are. Vel… Velcome,” he said, tipping his duncolored cap. With a quick glance at her tight jeans and blue eyes, he nodded and smiled, flashing one last gold glint in her direction before he reached up and took a mesh crate containing a live chicken from a local woman. Carrying the metal box to the nearest empty space, she placed it on the floor beside her, dropped her bag and let her legs fold. Settling onto the hard wooden bench as gratefully as if it was a tufted velvet sofa, Abby let her head fall back and her eyes close. She had done it. Just one more ride—a short one, even—and the journey would be over. From Pensacola to New York to London to Split. And from Split by ferry to Hvar. Halfway around the world. Hell, I hope one of the guys is waiting for me when I get there. I don’t think I’ve got the patience to hang around on some Croatian island waiting for them to get their asses in gear and—what am I ranting about? They’ll be there. They’re going to be curious as hell— no one’s going to want to miss the fireworks, will they? Probably the whole damn crew will be waiting for me when I get off this ferry. Waiting to see what I’ll do, what I’ll say… **** “Hey, Abby, good to see you, darling,” said Skip. Pulling her into a bear hug, he squeezed her so tightly he could have broken her ribs had she not squealed. “Oh, sorry. I’m just so happy to finally see you again. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Too long, I think.” When he released her she stood back and looked at him, pleased to see he appeared unchanged. His hair was bleached 3

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nearly white, his skin tanned a deep shade of mahogany and his grin was still as boyishly mischievous as she remembered. Lifting an eyebrow, Abby said, “It has been a long time but I see you haven’t changed one bit, have you? You’re still wearing the same pair of ratty denim shorts you were wearing when I last saw you and isn’t that the ridiculous hat I bought you when we stopped in that little bait shop in Angular? I can’t believe you’re still wearing that silly thing!” “And I can’t believe you remember.” Skip smiled as he lifted her gear over the side of the motorboat. Placing everything near the captain’s seat so the oversplash wouldn’t wet it, he strapped the pile to the steel rings below the console before he looked up. When he did, his smile was gone. As captain of the boat and leader of the expedition, he had to be certain of his personnel—and their ability to deal effectively with the conditions of the project. He had some things to clear up with her before they left the dock—serious things. As he stood, Skip placed his hands on his lean hips. “Listen, Abby, I need to ask you something. You know I have to ask this, and why I’m asking it, don’t you?” “No beating around the bush, eh? You’re just going straight to the center of this old mess, aren’t you? Well, let’s just get it out of the way then.” “I can’t afford to beat around the bush. Well? Do you know what I’m asking you here?” “You want to know if I’ll have a problem working on this project. Working with Jon, that is. That’s why you came for me yourself, instead of sending some of the crew to fetch me, isn’t it?” Now it made sense to her. At first she’d been surprised to see the head man meet the ferry but now she saw the reason behind his actions. 4

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“I won’t deny it,” he said quietly. Without taking his eyes from hers, he asked, “So? Are you able to work with Jon? I know it’s been a few years—” “Six.” “That’s right, six years since the two of you—” “Parted ways.” Skip couldn’t resist—a tiny flicker of a smile passed across his face. “That’s one way to put it, I guess. But you still haven’t answered my question, Abigail. Jon Perez is on the Cilla Three and I need to know if you can handle it. Right now, before we leave for Hvar. Because if you can’t there’s no place for you on this sail. You know that, don’t you?” His voice was steady and left no room to wonder about how strongly he felt about harmony on his ship. Business was business, and there was no room for drama in business, not as far as Skip was concerned. There never had been. Anyone who worked for him learned that straight off. “I know it. You’ve always made it clear that personal issues were to be left on land. On your boats there’s no…what do you usually call it, Skip? Wishy-washy-namby-pamby bullshit? Isn’t that the term you use?” When Abby grinned she looked less like an award-winning photojournalist and more like a teenager who’d skipped finals in favor of snorkeling. Her golden cap shone in the sun’s rays, her eyes, bluer than nearly any of the world’s oceans, sparkled and when she smiled her whole face glowed. “That’s the term. So?” “I can handle it, Skip. Don’t worry about me, I’m so over Jon Perez that I can barely remember what the guy looks like. What happened happened a long time ago, in another lifetime 5

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almost. I won’t have any problem being on board with Jon, I promise you. Trust me.” She hopped down into the boat and stood before Skip. He’d been the one to save her from her sadness the last time she’d been near the man they were discussing. Looking up into Skip’s eyes she saw concern—concern for her, for his ship, for his crew and their assignment. But she also saw something else, something more basic. Abby saw fear. “Really, Skip, you don’t need to worry.” Abby reached a hand out, placing it gently on his sinewy forearm. “There’s nothing to fear—for either of us. I can handle this, I promise you.” Skip took his place at the controls, started the engine and pulled away from the dock. “I hope you’re right, darling. Because if the same thing happens again, we may not be as lucky as we were last time.”

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Chapter 2 In deference to her around-the-world trip, Abby wasn’t subjected to the welcoming hugs, questions or comments from the other crewmembers when she boarded the Cilla Three. Skip carried her gear to the quarters she’d used on her last stay on the ship, told her he’d have dinner sent in and left her on her own. When the kitchen hand brought her tray two hours later, he left it on the railed ledge just inside her unlocked door. Abby was already sound asleep, a vague lump beneath the cotton blanket. The young man, a new addition to the crew, shut off the bright overhead light and flicked on a wall lamp, illuminating the doorway in case a nighttime incident prompted a fast exit. Then he closed the door softly, wondering as he did just what the woman—the only woman—on the crew would be like when he finally met her. He didn’t have long to wait. **** The first rumble woke her, although she didn’t know what it was that had, in fact, roused her until a flash illuminated the cabin. A storm! Scrambling out of her bunk and into the denim shorts she’d left draped across the foot of the bed, she headed for the 7

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door. The doorway lamp was unnecessary as the second flash of light filled the room. In that instant she got a look at her face in the mirror, the sleep-tousled curls, oversize tee shirt and glimmer of excitement that would match, she knew, the face of every other person on board. Abby made her way to the main deck and found her suspicions confirmed. Ten men stood beneath a metal canopy. The covering ran the length of the sixty-foot boat. Excited voices raised to near-shouts to be heard above the roar of the storm. “Abby, you finally decided to join us,” said Blake, the cook. He hugged her, his white whiskers scratchy against her face. He’d been with Skip for years and she’d eaten many of his meals. Motioning to the man beside him, he said. “Meet Jeff, he’s new on the Cilla. He left your dinner in your cabin—I bet it’s still untouched, isn’t it?” “Thanks, Jeff, nice to meet you. And yes, it’s still there. I saw it on my way out, I’m afraid.” “Ah, no worry,” said Blake, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “I’ll make you something special for breakfast. Never fear, I’ve got good things planned for you, Abby. Good things.” I’m sure, my friend. I’m sure you do. Being the only woman on a ship filled with men could have had its disadvantages but on Skip’s vessel he made it understood that Abby was to be treated with respect. It was an order he expected—like all others—to be adhered to. She was like a daughter to him and he wouldn’t allow her to be abused because of her gender. Nor would he allow her to receive deferential treatment because of her sex. No, Skip expected every crewmember to do their job and do it well. It 8

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was one of the reasons that he never had to scrounge for a first-class crew for his outings. On legs accustomed to the motion of a ship, she made her way down the line of men who stood in various states of dress beneath the canopy. Some wore shirts, some only shorts. All were barefoot. And all were pleased to see Abby, greeting her with smiles, hugs and warm words. At the end of the line, standing a little ways from the rest of the crew stood Jon Perez. Tall and muscular, he was in so many ways Abby’s opposite. Where she was petite, he was sturdy. His straight, dark hair and deep brown eyes made her fairness seem even more ethereal. And her bubbling, outgoing nature made his pensive, introverted characteristics seem even more dark and brooding. They’d always looked good together. Dark and light. Yin and yang. Fire and water. It was apparent the crew watched, waiting to see how this first meeting between the pair went. Even the sea’s swells, flashing sky and howling wind couldn’t mask their curiosity. Abby felt collective eyes on her back, sensed the breath held tightly in the men who’d greeted her so casually only seconds before. It was as if time had been suspended on deck, as if every moment that followed would depend on this instant. “Jon.” Her voice was soft yet strong. She’d had years to wonder how she would feel when she saw him again. She’d always known their paths would cross again. The world wasn’t big enough for them to avoid each other forever. Now that the time was upon her Abby was relieved to realize that she wasn’t any of the things she’d feared she’d be. Not angry. Not tearful. Not filled with hate or, worse, yearning for revenge. 9

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She was, she realized, ambivalent. Neither drawn to him nor repelled by him, she took in his appearance as if he was an indigenous species, one she’d seen many times over. “Abby.” His voice was strong and full-bodied as she’d remembered. It was the voice that came to her so often in her dreams—and her nightmares. “You’re looking good.” Ignoring his remark, she turned to face the water. Over the horizon flashes separated the blackness and the crew turned too. The show Mother Nature was putting on was more intriguing than the one between Abby and Jon. “It appears we’re going to be working together,” she said. Her feet were planted shoulders’ width apart yet the turbulent sea made her sway, her body coming close to his. “Mediterranean monk seals. I’ve been keeping track of them and I think you’re going to enjoy this project. There are a couple of females who are fat and full, ready to give birth at any time. They look like Buddhas. I know you’re going to get some good shots of them.” When he talked of their work his voice grew animated, as if he forgot everything else except the project at hand. It was an ability Abby had envied in him, the flair for forgetting everything else and focusing on the task at hand. Envied, until she found out what sort of things Jon conveniently forgot when he was working. “I can’t wait to see them,” she said. It was the truth. Had the project been based on something ordinary, like red coral or Gorgonia fans, Abby would have stayed in Florida. But a species of seals that was dangerously close to having been wiped off the face of the planet? No, it wasn’t something she’d miss. Seeing a colony filled with pregnant seals was ex10

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citing. Photographing them was an opportunity of a lifetime. “It’s incredible that there are so many pregnancies, isn’t it?” “It is.” He nodded and a lock of black hair fell across his cheek. Catching in the stubble that grew there, it lay on his tanned skin, a presence ignored by the man who was warming to the topic at hand. Abby was tempted to reach out and brush the hair away, to feel once again his warm skin beneath her fingertips, let his heat make its way from his body to her own. She resisted the urge—barely. “When we first began to count them, I was afraid we were counting the same ones over and over. But then we started tagging them and damned if they weren’t all different! It’s easy to see now that we’ve watched them for a few weeks but at first—” “They all looked alike,” she finished, smiling. It was hard not to be caught up in Jon’s excitement, especially since she shared his passion for fostering propagation of endangered wildlife. “That’s right, they did.” Pushing his hair back, he continued. “You’re going to flip when you see them all. It’s something we never thought to see when we—” The words hung in the air between them. When we were worked together before? When we were lovers? When we were in Portugal? Shit, Jon, it’s always going to be there, isn’t it? The smell of sulfur filled the air. The crack of thunder and the snap and hiss of lightening just off the starboard side of the Cilla Three caught everyone’s attention. A large swell smashed against the hull and the boat suddenly shifted beneath them, throwing everyone off balance. Abby fell backward, smacking her shoulder on the wall behind her. As the boat lurched a second time, strong arms 11

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enveloped her, pulling her against a hard male presence. Selfpreservation is an equalizer and she wrapped her arms around Jon’s broad shoulders and held on as the waves crashed all around them. The melee lasted for what seemed like an endless amount of time. When the sea squall began to gentle, they were all soaked but smiling. Cradled in the palm of a giant water beast, shaken up and tossed out like a pair of rolling dice was a feeling that defied description. Abby’s heart pounded. Her cheek lay against Jon’s bare chest, above his own strong heartbeat and she felt his galloping as madly as her own. She felt other things, too, in the moments before the squall released them. His body, hard and strong, felt the same as it always had. His arms were as protective as she’d remembered them. Lifting her head, Abby looked up into eyes that were as dark and stormy as the sea. There were no words that could be uttered, no excuses that could be made, and they both knew it. Neither tried to explain away anything that lay between them. Jon didn’t even attempt to justify the erection that pressed against her abdomen. There was no need. It couldn’t have been done. Without a word, Abby backed away from him. Brushing a wet curl off her brow, she regained her balance before she headed toward her cabin. He didn’t try to stop her leaving. As she walked away from him, though, she thought she heard a tortured growl and she wondered if it came from the man or the sea. It might as well have come from the sea. Silently Abby vowed she wouldn’t let Jon Perez have an effect on her again. Never. No matter how hard his cock got. 12

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Chapter 3 “So the plan is for you and Jon to head over to that island and take a look around. He’ll show you the lay of the land, point out all the things we’ve already found and you can figure out where the best angles are and such for your photos, all right?” Skip handed Jon the last box of equipment off the loading platform and stood up. He smiled as if the whole first-dayfirst-minutes-alone weirdness hadn’t taken over the thoughts of the entire crew, himself included. In Skip’s opinion, some things were better gotten past quickly. This, this whole furor over the Jon-Abby project was one of them. He figured sending them to one of the islands alone within hours of Abby’s arrival would give them the opportunity to get the inevitable out of the way. “And take your time. Blake’s packed a big cooler so you could probably eat for days without coming back to the Cilla.” Abby adjusted her wrap-around sunglasses and smiled. She could feel his trepidation as surely as if it was her own. “We won’t, though. We’ll be back before the day is out. I promise you that.” Skip’s gaze briefly met Jon’s. “Just be sure that both of you come back, in one piece, you hear? We’re here to assist the Croatian government in cataloging this very rare and very 13

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important species so please, let’s just all remember why we’ve come to this place. Agreed?” Jon turned to Abby with a wicked grin. “It sounds like the Skip is worried. Sounds like a mother hen, doesn’t he?” He ran a final check on the gauges on the small craft. The large boat had several small vessels that traveled with it. He and Abby were taking one of the day-cruisers, twin-engine fiberglass crafts that boasted a small head, sleeping quarters and minimal galley. It would serve as their base of operations and was connected by radio to the Cilla. “Sure does. Just like a pecky mother hen.” Smiling, she shrugged. “I wonder what he’s so worried about? Sounds serious, doesn’t it?” She glanced over her shoulder at the man on the platform. He scowled, but it was a look that couldn’t be taken seriously. She could see the laugh lines, deep furrows in his tanned face that radiated out from behind his dark sunglasses. “Real serious,” she added. Starting the engines with the press of a button, Jon said, “I think he’s worried I’m going to eat you—like a wolf in his henhouse. Yeah, I think that’s it.” As Jon maneuvered the craft away from the platform, Abby forced a grin to her lips. “Well then, he’s got nothing to worry about, has he? Because you won’t be eating me, no mistake about that. I promise, the wolf is the one who should be afraid. Not the hen.” With a nod to Skip, Jon headed for the island. Beneath his breath, so low he thought Abby couldn’t hear, he muttered, “Believe me, the wolf is afraid. Very damn afraid.” A thrill of pleasure shot up her spine. She had heard. **** 14

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The first assessment of the seal colony was accurate. There were at least six females getting close to delivering pups. The birthing season was still a few weeks off but there was no mistaking the signs. The white patches on the mothers-to-be were distended and they moved much more slowly than their colony mates. It was an easy task for Abby and Jon to set up on a crest of white sand above where the seals rested. Active during the day, the mammals swam, moving in and out of the surf in what looked like an endless relay game. They barely noticed the two humans and their assorted gear when they arrived and as hours slipped away the seals didn’t pay any attention to them at all. Using a variety of lenses and filters, Abby shot hundreds of photographs. They would be used to catalog the colony in the Croatian wildlife registry as well as other global organizations interested in safeguarding the species. Jon spent the morning making notes on the compact laptop he’d brought. His job was to compile a documentary log of the creatures’ activities. It, too, would become part of an international record. With the sun high in the teal blue sky, Jon stretched. They’d both stripped down to their swimsuits hours earlier, the heat of the Mediterranean sun forcing them to seek relief in any way possible. They’d consumed several bottles of water each but there was no escaping the heat of midday. At least not on the beach. Closing his laptop with a snap, Jon said, “Ready for a swim?” Abby was more than ready. She was hot as hell, something not due in full measure to the sun. Being near Jon 15

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wasn’t keeping her cooler, either. He was off limits but still attractive. You’re too attractive for your own good—and mine. Yeah, maybe a swim will cool me off in more ways than one. Nodding, Abby capped her lens and stowed the Canon. She zipped the bag closed, slipped it inside the heavy black leather carry bag and put that into the padded metal container beside her. It all stowed beneath a heat-deflecting tan tarp. “That sounds great. I’m broiling.” She stood and stretched, arching her back. In the skimpy blue bikini she could have passed for a sorority girl. Her breasts, small and pert, filled the cups adequately. It was something not lost on Jon. His eyes were fixed on her as she moved, and as her breasts fell forward, threatening to spill over the low edge of her top, he felt his penis stir. “Hot,” he said brusquely. Heading for the water, he called, “It’s too damn hot here.” He dove, slicing the water as slickly as a hot knife through butter, and swam a long stretch beneath the azure surface before his head, as sleek as a seal’s, came into sight. Abby followed him and they swam, using cooling, languorous strokes, before they made their way to the boat. Hanging side by side from the dive platform at the back of the craft, they rested. “It feels good, doesn’t it? The cool down after a hot morning on the beach?” Jon ran his hand through his hair, slicking it back against his scalp. “Although the water temp isn’t much different from the air temp, is it?” “Not much. We haven’t hit the cooler thermoclines yet. They’d cool things down a bit, if we went deeper. I don’t know about you but I’m not much in the mood for diving to16

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day.” Abby shook her head, sending droplets of water from the end of her tightly curled locks. They’d avoided any talk of “before” all morning but Jon spoke without first considering his words. “Why not? You used to love diving. What changed?” She stared at him for a long moment. “A lot. A lot’s changed, Jon.” “That’s not what I meant,” he said quietly. He let his hand drop from the metal platform and treaded water in the space in front of her. “I wondered why you don’t seem to be interested in diving any more, that’s all. I didn’t mean anything else by my words.” She saw he spoke from his heart and realized she had been ready to pounce on anything he said. Abby thought she had been doing a good job of acting casual around him but she had to relax. It wasn’t fair to jump every time Jon said something that rubbed her the wrong way. Abby’s hand slipped into the water and she moved her arms and legs rhythmically. It gave her something to do while she formulated a reply. “I am still interested in diving. Very much. In fact, I do it nearly every day at home. It’s just that I crossed several time zones yesterday, then none of us slept very well last night, so I don’t think my body is in optimum shape for diving. Not today. Before I leave I’ll take a dive, maybe explore some of the underwater caves and cliffs near Hvar’s coast, but not today.” “You’re already thinking of leaving, then? So quickly after you arrive?” Jon’s eyes left hers and he turned his body so that he floated beside her rather than before her. Focusing on the horizon, he waited for her answer. It came too quickly. And it was an answer he had feared. 17

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“Sure. I think I’ve already got enough to more than satisfy the international community. Between my photos and your tagging and documentation, Skip’s expedition has proven that the monk seal population here in the Croatian Islands is on the rise. It’s indisputable—the pregnancies we witnessed on this island alone, coupled with the sheer numbers of seals in this one colony, already prove that there are more now than were here in the ’93 study.” Her words were accurate, scientific and said without feeling. They left no room for interpretation. She was leaving. “So that’s it, then?” His voice was hoarse, his eyes distant and his body tense. “You’re just going to leave—again?” Accusing me? You have the balls to accuse me of anything— anything at all—after how you behaved last time? I must have been out of my mind to fall for someone like you! What the hell was I thinking? “I don’t appreciate your tone. Not one bit,” she snapped, moving her arms more strongly and kicking so hard she buoyed up from the sea like a mermaid. “You seem to have forgotten that you’re the reason I left last time—you and your lies, so don’t—” His body moved so swiftly she didn’t have time to react. Pinning her against the dive platform, Jon put his arms on either side of her head and held her against his body. She felt his legs moving with hers, felt his thighs brush hers below the surface. Her nipples pebbled, her center tightened and her heartbeat increased. “I didn’t lie to you,” he said, his jaw clenched. “I never lied to you, Abby.” “You didn’t tell the truth, either. You never told me the truth. You never—” 18

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“That’s not true, and you know it.” His eyes flashed as dangerously as the lightening had just hours earlier. “I told you the truth about a lot of things. I told you I loved you, I told you—” “Lies!” she cried, shaking her head. “They were lies, Jon. There’s no way you can say they weren’t. You probably said those things to every woman you ever screwed. You probably still say it to every woman you bed.” He swallowed hard, his mouth dangerously close to hers. Being near her again had aroused him. There was no way for him to disguise the fact that his cock was turgid—he didn’t even try. Instead, he let his body find hers naturally. Beneath the surface their forms fit as perfectly as a hand to a glove and he nestled his hard bulk against her soft curves. Abby felt his penis insinuate itself against the contours of her body and she didn’t try to stop it from happening. She was slick, her desire for his touch overcoming her common sense, and she moaned as he slid his thigh between hers. Pressing her aching pussy onto his hard leg, she felt the first tingles of an orgasm find her and she welcomed them. It had always felt this good with Jon. Always. He could make Abby come in a New York minute, without any effort at all. That, at least, hadn’t changed. Jon’s hands slid down her body, cupped her ass and pulled her firmly against him. His cock was so hard that every gentle undulation of her body on him was nearly unbearable. He twitched aside the edge of her bikini and touched her, sliding his fingertip along her slippery slit as his eyes held hers. Opening her legs wider, Abby pressed herself to his touch. Her arms around his shoulders, she began to move her hips as heat built within her. 19

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The desire to feel him was overwhelming. Abby had to feel his cock. Even if it was only for one last time. She dropped a hand beneath the water, never taking her gaze from his. It was as if they were tied by a thread that was so tenuous it could be broken at any time. Eye to eye, but with a wall between their hearts, they touched each other in ways that neither had expected to touch again. Reaching inside the waistband of his trunks, Abby wrapped her fingers around his erection and tugged it out into the warm Adriatic Sea. She stroked him, her fingers sliding along flesh she knew well, flesh she remembered tasting and touching more times than she could count. She pressed her fingertips to the ridge beneath his tip, massaging him in the way she knew he could hardly bear. A moan escaped his lips and his fingers moved more swiftly on her tender flesh. With a ragged gasp, Jon lifted her onto his cock, impaling her on his throbbing skin. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clasped her hands around his neck and began to move with him. Just like the seals. They mate in the water, too. Just. Like. The. Seals. Oh…oh, yes, Jon. Yes, that’s it—it feels so good. It feels so— oh! Abby’s climax gripped her, slamming into her hard and fast. She threw back her head, staring at the cloudless blue sky as the exquisite sensations held her captive. She felt her muscles clench around him as Jon began to jerk within her. Squeezing tightly, she held him as he flooded her, the few moments of his release almost more heart stopping than her own orgasm had been.

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As the last jet left him, Jon dropped his head forward and, his eyes still tightly closed, he breathed, “Oh, yes. Oh, Abby…I love you.” Abby dropped her legs from around his waist, suddenly chilled. She lifted off his wilting penis and waited for him to open his eyes. When he did, she raised her eyebrow and asked, “Is that what you say to your wife when you fuck her, too?”

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Chapter 4 For two days Jon and Abby avoided each other. Even on a large vessel like the Cilla Three it wasn’t an easy feat but they managed to do it. Abby spent a great deal of time in the ship’s darkroom, developing and printing the photos she’d taken on the island. They were amazing shots and would have won her more awards had she been inclined to use them for anything other than governmental monitoring. She was pleased with the results of her morning on the unnamed island and knew there was no reason for her to make a return trip. No more photos were necessary. Her work in Croatia was complete. Jon kept to his quarters. He gave no explanation for his behavior but refused to join in the nightly card games, after dinner movies in the community stateroom or any of the other activities that the crew used to occupy the hours when they weren’t working. He ate his meals in his cabin, did his work and kept to himself. On the third day Skip made an announcement in the dining room during the breakfast hour. “I’ve been in contact with the Croatian officials, as well as the American Embassy. They both agree that we’ve given them more than enough data to present to the International 22

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Council on the Preservation of Endangered Species. ICOPES will be able to use our material in the global database and hopefully, we’ll have all contributed to saving this beautiful animal that we’ve all, I’m sure, come to love.” He looked at every member of the crew individually before he went on. “Each and every one of you did an excellent job here and I thank you. The world thanks you. And most importantly, future generations of seals thank you.” Abby heard more than one big, strong seaman clear his throat. What they had done was something that very few ever had the opportunity to do. They’d done their parts in making the world a better place. “So, our work here is, in effect,” Skip paused, “complete.” The silence was short-lived. They all knew that there had to be another project on the horizon for the captain and crew. “What’s next, Skip?” asked Jeff. “Ah, eager to move on, are you? That must mean you’ve enjoyed your first trip out with Blake and all the rest of us, then,” said Skip, then laughed. “Yes, sir. I don’t want to hear that I’ll have to go back to dry land any time soon,” the young man admitted. Skip sat on the edge of a sturdy table and said, “You won’t have to. In a day or two we’ll head to the coast of Sardinia. We’ve been asked to assist in a sponge-diving operation there. It’s a privately funded group but they’re using the sponges for propagation purposes so I think it’s going to be a job we’ll all be proud to be involved in.” Skip stood and pointed to the piece of paper he’d placed on the table. “A list of supplies to be procured from Hvar before we leave. And the usual battery of operating checks and maintenance to be 23

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performed on the Cilla—and the other vessels, too. Like I said, a day or two at most. Then we’ll head out.” Turning to leave, Skip nearly got to the door before he stopped. He swiveled, faced the group and searched for Abby and Jon. He looked at them as he spoke. “I nearly forgot. I told the Croatian officials that the two of you would personally deliver the packet of data to the office of the governor on the island. Today.” He turned to leave again, stopping only at the sound of Abby’s voice. “Wait. Skip, why do we have to deliver it? Why not you—you’re the captain of the ship, after all.” Abby felt her cheeks color as everyone turned their eyes to her. “Really, shouldn’t you deliver the packet?” His voice ended all thoughts of further discussion. “No. I’ve told them you and Jon will make the delivery and that’s what will happen. I’ll have the packet ready this afternoon. I’ll expect to see the two of you, properly attired, near the platform at two o’clock. Don’t make me come looking for you— either of you.” Abby watched Skip leave the room. Anger seethed within her. It was the first time she’d ever disliked the man. **** The trip to the island was a silent one. They’d both dressed for the occasion, Jon in a lightweight European-cut suit and Abby in a form-fitting black tea-length dress. They looked like a couple going to celebrate a birthday or anniversary rather than deliver a packet containing information on the mating habits of Mediterranean monk seals. The governor wasn’t available to take the packet so they left it with his representative. A tall, thin man with a bushy 24

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black mustache and two gold teeth, the representative thanked Abby and Jon profusely before handing them a sealed envelope. “What is this?” asked Abby, looking down at the expensive, unmarked envelope. “We weren’t told to pick anything up, just to leave the packet here. Are you sure this is meant for us?” “Yes. It is for you,” the man said, smiling and nodding. He reminded Abby of one of the long legged shorebirds they’d seen on the beaches in Portugal. Their heads bobbed up and down as they ran on their spindly legs. She and Jon had found it impossible not to laugh when they saw them. But Portugal had been another lifetime. And they had been a different set of people. “You’re sure?” Jon had hardly spoken since they left the boat, giving the man only perfunctory answers to his questions and merely smiling when they were thanked. “Yes, I am sure. I was told to take the packet, thank you and then give you this. So I have taken the packet. I have thanked you. And now,” he said, gesturing toward the envelope, “I give you this. And I was told to tell you to open the envelope when you get outside. In your vehicle. That is when you are to open it. And again, thank you.” He escorted them to the door of the governor’s office and waved to them as they walked to their rented compact. Inside the car, Abby and Jon looked at each other for a long moment before she said, “Well?” “Damned if I know.” She looked at the envelope, her mouth dry. It looked so innocent, yet so many things weren’t what they appeared to be that she was suddenly apprehensive. 25

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“What have we got to lose?” “Nothing.” She tore the paper and pulled out the folded sheet. Opening it, she read out loud, “Go to the bell tower near the coast. Immediately.” Jon ran his hand through his hair, making indentations in the silky blackness. With a furrowed brow, he started the engine and pulled into the lane. “I know where the tower is. But what the hell is this, some wild goose chase?” Abby grinned. She knew that sound—he felt as if he had no control over what was happening to them. It was, she knew, a feeling that he hated. And that was enough to amuse her. The bell tower, an ancient structure that was part of a thousand-year-old church, was deserted when they arrived. No one waited for them. There were no cars to be seen. No sign of life on the white sand beach, not even a seal or bird. With a sigh, Jon opened the driver's side door. He went to the passenger side, opened the door for Abby and waited for her to step out. “We’d better go inside, just to make sure there’s no one waiting for us in there. Who knows? Maybe this is the governor’s idea of a joke.” They went to the wide stone archway facing the sea and went inside the church. Ancient stones lined the floor and walls and the interior of the building was cool after the afternoon heat. Abby shivered, goose bumps rising on her bare arms, as she followed Jon to the base of the bell tower. On a ledge overlooking the sea there was a bottle of champagne and two glasses in an ice bucket. A red ribbon held a tag that said Abby and Jon around the neck of the bottle. 26

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“What the hell?” His voice was low as he pushed the ice bucket aside and lifted another envelope. This one had his name on it and Jon tore it open, pulled out the slip of paper and read the words. He swore softly before crumpling the sheet in his fist. “What is it? Jon, what is it?” He turned to her and held out his hand. She took the ball and smoothed it out before she read it. It had two words on it. Tell her. “Tell me what?” His footsteps echoed as he walked away from her. With his back to her he silently stared out to sea. When he spoke, he kept his face from hers, as if fearing what her reaction would be. “I married her because she was sick.” She hesitated only for an instant before she crossed the stone floor. Abby grabbed his arm and spun him around. The expression on his face showed the depth of his emotions. His pain was so clear to her it stole her breath. “Tell me.” In that instant she realized he had tried to tell her before. Many times over. The phone calls she wouldn’t take. The emails she erased. The letters—so many letters—she shredded. Jon had tried, but she had been too hurt—too stubborn—to listen. “Tell me now, Jon. Please.” His eyes raked hers before he spoke. “She was sick. My brother, Clay, was engaged to marry her but when she got sick…hell, sometimes people react like shit to horrible news. He got scared. He left her, refused to speak with her. No one knew she was sick yet, no one but us.” Jon lifted his shoulders 27

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wearily before letting them drop. “She had no insurance. No way to pay for the chemo she was going to need. I…I couldn’t stand the idea of having and her needing so I…” “You married her.” He nodded, his eyes filled with pain. “I did. Clay came back and they spent the last days together but they were few. Just after you left she died. My marrying her didn’t save her. It didn’t save any of us. Clay lost Jackie and I lost you.” Abby’s heart felt as if it was cracking within her and she didn’t notice the tears sliding over her cheeks until Jon wiped them away with his thumb. At his touch she felt every nerve ending come alive in a way that none of them had since she’d left him so many years ago. “You tried to tell me,” Abby whispered as she stepped closer to him. “I wouldn’t listen.” “You were hurt.” He pulled her against his hard body and she melted like an ice cube on a sidewalk. “I’m sorry, Abby. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to do anything but—” “Love me, Jon. Please, love me,” she moaned, tilting her face to his. When his mouth covered hers she kissed him with all the passion she’d been holding inside. Their tongues swirled together and their desire grew with a need that was insistent. Abby reached for his fly as he raised the hem of her dress. Sliding to the cool stone floor, Jon rained kisses along her neck and shoulders. “I can’t—oh, God, I can’t wait.” His groan brought gooseflesh to her hot skin. “Don’t. Don’t wait.” Jon needed no further encouragement. He slid inside her wetness and began to thrust. 28

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“Yes!” Abby climaxed with the first stroke. Her breathless gasps came in a flurry as her body convulsed, then stilled. After his release, Abby cradled Jon’s head against her neck, her fingers tangled in his thick hair. She kissed his temple, whispering the words he’d never thought to hear. “I love you.”

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DANCES, CORFU by

Rusty Wicks

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Chapter 1 Golden sand caressed her toes as she walked on the beach. The air was warm and sultry and the deep blue of the Ionian Sea was more vivid than the ripest blueberry growing on the side of Mount Olympus. It was tranquil on the beach, the perfect spot to find the serenity needed for relaxation. Meditation. Contemplation But the emptiness of the beach, the sweetness of the air and the calmness of the sea did little to still the galloping of her heart. In truth, it did nothing. Her heart was thudding so loudly in her chest that she was certain that the seagulls circling high overhead could hear it. Couldn’t they? She had seen him. This morning, when she was doing her early chores, she had seen him. And once she had seen him, she knew her day would be undeniably changed. Nikos Sviggos wasn’t the most handsome man on the island. He wasn’t the wealthiest, either. Nor the wittiest nor the most intelligent. No, there were other men who fit those categories. What Nikos was, however, was much more important than any—than all—of those things. Nikos Sviggos was the man who made Luna Cornikos’ heart pound. That was enough for her. **** 31

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“Where were you, daughter? Were you on that beach again, walking?” Her mother was bent over a large pottery cooking crock when Luna walked into the kitchen. The scent of simmering stew and feta-wrapped grape leaves filled the air. The room was busy, bustling with activity as the women of the household prepared the main meal of the day. “Yes, Mother.” Luna quickly removed her long linen head covering and hung it on a hook beside the door. She smoothed her tightly bound black hair before she went to stand by her mother’s side. It wouldn’t do, she knew, to appear unsightly after walking alone. It might give the impression she had been doing more than merely walking. Oh, Mother, if you only knew how desperately I yearn to do more than just walk on the sand. If you only knew how much I want to feel the touch of hands that are not my own. If you only knew how I dream of— “Daughter! You are daydreaming again,” her mother said, sighing. She handed Luna the wooden stirring spoon and walked to a table near the far wall. As she began chopping dates for the rich desert pudding she spoke over her shoulder. “Stir the stew, Luna. We don’t want it to burn. Your father and brothers are bringing home dinner guests tonight. The food must be perfect.” A heady spiciness rose from the vessel as she followed her mother’s directions. Leeks, lamb meat, carrots and zucchini in a rich brown broth swirled in the pot as the spoon circled slowly. A platter of eggplant, seasoned and oiled, sat nearby. It needed only a fast grilling before it would be heavenly. Be32

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sides the wrapped feta, there were loaves of hearty brown bread, still warm from the oven, and bowls filled with caponata, olives and brine cured vegetables. A tray piled high with prawns and scallops was keeping cool in a water-filled sink. All this for dinner guests. They must be important visitors for there to be so much food. And date pudding? Why, it’s not even harvest time! “There will be dancing after dinner. Make sure you wear the new sandals, so that when you dance in the courtyard your feet will look attractive.” Luna’s mother piled chopped dates in a stoneware bowl and added a generous amount of goat’s milk before she began to make the paste that would make the pudding. “Don’t forget—the new sandals.” “They hurt my feet. I can’t dance in those things! Mother, they give me blisters on my toes.” The sandals were beautiful. Delicate, with cream-colored pigskin soles and long, sinuous ankle straps. Beautiful, yes. But for the wearer they felt as if the teeth of the pig were still attached to the leather. With every step the sandals took a distinct, and destructive, bite into Luna’s toes. No, she wouldn’t wear them, regardless of who was coming to visit. She just wouldn’t do it. “Better to have blisters on your toes than wrinkles on your nose.” “Mother, I am not going to have wrinkles on my nose.” “We shall see,” said her mother. She turned and walked out the back door. Luna knew she was going to fetch a bit of something from the garden for the pudding. Mint, perhaps. Whatever the reason, Luna was thankful that her mother had been distracted enough to stop reminding her that she was, with each passing 33

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moment if her mother was to be believed, growing closer to becoming an old, unmarried, wrinkled woman. Zeus’ robes! You would think that I’m twenty already, instead of only nineteen years. I have plenty of time to agree to a marriage match. Plenty of time. Besides, Father hasn’t offered me anyone I’d even remotely consider spending the rest of my life with. And I’m not agreeing until he offers me the right match. I won’t do it! Her mother returned to the kitchen clutching a bunch of spearmint. She took the mint to the long stone sink, washed it, then placed it on the scarred wooden table and began to mash it with a stone mortar. The aroma of mint mixed with all the other delicious smells made Luna’s mouth water. Good food, dancing…this might not be so distasteful after all. Oh, perhaps I could wear the new sandals, to please Mother. How awful could it be? Luna left the stirring to the kitchen helper, Eva. She went to stand beside the table, watching while her mother expertly wove a few ingredients into a delicious dessert. “Who are the visitors? Who is Father bringing home tonight?” A smile played around the corners of the older woman’s mouth. “Constantine Peliconas, the baker. And his son Tunis.” At the mention of the man who was best known among the island’s women for his hairy back and prodigious backside, Luna’s heart fell. It felt like it landed somewhere around her ankles. She knew without even trying that it was futile to attempt to lift it back into place, at least not until after the evening’s “festivities” were over. Tunis Peliconas! A more deplorable bachelor would have been difficult to find.

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My old sandals, definitely the old sandals. Luna scowled. If she was forced to laugh with that hairy oaf she was going to be comfortable. Definitely the old sandals.

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Chapter 2 His dark eyes were as deep and rich as the moist centers of the figs she gathered each morning. As she fell into his gaze she knew that she’d gladly pick figs for him every morning for the rest of their lives. Figs, and anything else he needed to sustain his strong, hard body. Her gaze traveled downward…down the finely chiseled lines of his face, past the classic Grecian nose to the full, firm lips that made her heart flutter every time she saw them. She imagined his mouth on hers. His lips, strong yet tender, experienced in the ways of love. Eagerness to learn the skills she had only heard of, dreamed of, flooded her. A small shudder passed through her when his tongue darted from his mouth and traced its way across his upper lip. It left moistness behind that matched the sudden moistness gathering beneath her tunic. Shifting, she enjoying the delicious sensations that danced along her skin. Her nipples tightened, pressing against the soft linen covering them. She longed to push the linen aside, to leave the hardened nipples open to the gaze of his dark brown eyes and the touch of his soft pink tongue. “The olive harvest should be especially good this year, with the long, hot days and the cool, moist nights we’ve been having. Don’t you think so?” The voice was like a splash of cold water on her flushed body. It took her a second to pull her mind back from the im36

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agined, tantalizing interlude to the harsh reality of the warm summer evening. Luna looked into the eyes of her dinner partner and forced a smile to her lips. “Umm…I suppose it will be especially fine, yes. At least it is what the women near the fountain said this morning.” “Near the fountain? When you were…bathing?” Tunis’ eyes glittered and a sheen of sweat broke out across his upper lip. The tip of his tongue dashed out to touch the moisture. The fat pink tongue reminded Luna of a sand lizard and she had to fight not to shudder at the sight of the fast reptilian movement. “No, not bathing. I was at the fountain filling the water jugs for the household.” “Oh, I see.” He couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Not bathing?” “No. Of course not.” “So that is what you women discuss at the fountain, is it? Olives? Is there anything else you talk about?” He scooped a dollop of caponata onto a thick chunk of bread and put it into his mouth. His eyes lingered on her face as he licked his fingers clean, one by one. The barely concealed lust she saw in them dampened any appetite she’d had. “Olives, yes. Olives and other things.” “Other things? Such as?” Tunis moved his hand stealthily beneath the low table. He reached slowly across the space that separated her body from his on the soft hand-woven cushions and touched her tunic, giving her knee a quick squeeze before pulling his hand back. She sensed, rather than saw, his fingers were moving in his lap. With a flash of disgust she wondered if he was touching himself. 37

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Your hairy backside, you pig! Keep your greasy fat fingers off of me or I’ll scream so loudly that anyone sitting at the Acropolis will hear me. Luna smiled sweetly and acted as if she hadn’t felt his touch. “Oh, nothing important. Nothing particularly interesting.” “My daughter Luna will dance for us now.” Father, in his best linen tunic and olive garland headdress, smiled benevolently at her as if it were a request rather than an order. She knew better, though. Despite the pleasant, cajoling tone of his voice there was no room for discussion. To refuse to entertain her family and her father’s guests would be rude. The retribution for such behavior would be swift and humiliating. Luna knew it as surely as she knew her own name. “Ah, I have been waiting for this moment,” confessed Tunis. He leaned close to her when he spoke, speaking softly as if to share a secret. “When you dance, will you think of me, Luna?” Her grin hid a grimace as she stood and walked to the center of the courtyard. In the flickering light, beneath the warm glow of the full, ripe summer moon, she danced. She dipped and twirled slowly at first. Then her movements got faster and faster, sending her tunic further and further away from her lithe, young body. The rhythm of the bowl drum and harp was in her heart as she let the music consume her like a fire consumes a moth. Her breathing grew more frenzied with each passing minute, the sweat soaked through her tunic until her breasts were clearly outlined against the fine fabric and her hair fell in long, 38

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full rings to touch her waist, the silver pins clattering to the floor at her feet. No one noticed her sandals when Luna danced. And the heat in her body didn’t come from thinking about anyone present in the courtyard. When she danced, Luna thought only of Nikos.

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Chapter 3 “I hear you danced last night,” said Elena. She pulled a newly filled jug from the fountain in the center of town and set it on the damp ground. Bending from the waist, she pushed a second jug, still empty, into the water as she grinned over her shoulder. “I hear you danced like your tunic was on fire.” Luna shrugged her shoulders as she reached to fill her second jug. She and Elena had been like sisters since they had been babies. Their mothers were close, and Luna and Elena assumed their daughters would be best friends as well. It was impossible to hide the truth from Elena. “Who told you that?” Luna grinned as she lugged her jug from the fountain and lashed both jugs together with a long length of carrying twine. Then she did the same with Elena’s jugs. Luna lifted both sets of jugs, carrying them into the shade beneath a spreading cypress tree. Luna dropped to a granite bench, fanning her face with her hand and waited while her friend waddled across the courtyard. Advanced pregnancy gave Elena a glow but made her slower than a starfish at low tide. She moved, but just barely. “Oof! Can I get much bigger? The baby has to come soon or I’ll be too big to walk!” 40

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Rubbing her taut belly, Elena sighed. Luna reached over and placed a hand on the ridiculously large bump. She wondered, not for the first time, if the gods might have sent two babies to Elena’s womb instead of one. “How does it feel? To have a baby growing inside you?” Elena smiled, staring into the distance. When she spoke, her voice was soft and whispery. “It feels like the most wonderful thing in the world. It feels like I’m the first woman to do this, to create life from nothing. Alexander and I were hoping to have a child quickly after our marriage. I had no idea it would be so soon. Still, I’m happy about it. We are blessed.” “But how are you feeling…about Alexander, that is. Do you…do you still feel the same feelings for him now?” Elena’s eyes widened as she grasped Luna’s meaning. She began to laugh, great gulping gales of laughter. It was minutes before her giggles subsided enough for her to speak. “You are too funny! You’re asking me if I still desire my husband now that I am with child? What an amusing question.” “I do not think it is so funny.” Staring at the fountain, she felt foolish. Elena was the only one she trusted enough to share some of the secrets of love, the only one she could ask the questions burning within her. Luna took a deep breath. “Well? Are you going to answer me or are you just going to laugh?” “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I didn’t expect a question like that, not here, at the water fountain.” Elena pushed aside a strand of long golden hair, securing it behind her ear before she went on. “I shouldn’t have laughed, even if this does seem like a strange place to talk of love.” 41

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“Where, then? If not here, where we are alone, away from your husband’s ears and my mother’s ever prying nose? The nose she seems to stick into my business at every turn? This is the only place I could think of to ask you the questions I need answered. Elena, I have to know. Tell me about love, about desire. Please. Tell me about, about…you know.” “Hmm…” Elena purred like a milk-filled cat, tilting her head to the side and tapping a finger against her cheek. The wisp of hair fell from behind her ear but she didn’t seem to notice it dangling beside her neck. “Love… making love. Oh, when you meet the man who makes your skin hot and your heart smash against your chest, that’s when you know you’re in love.” I know about hot skin. Too, the galloping heart Elena spoke of. “When you meet this man who makes your body tingle, all you want, all you can dream of, is for him to touch you. His mouth…his hands—his body—you want them where no other mouth, hand or body has been. You want him, all the time. You ache for him. Down here,” Elena whispered, nodding toward her lap. Leaning close, so her breath touched Luna’s ear, she spoke in much the same way as a child divulges a secret. “You want his maleness, his staff. You want it inside of you, all the time. All the time.” Luna swallowed hard. That was how she wanted Nikos. “You will know when you’re feeling these urges. You will know. I knew when I saw Alexander I wanted him for my own, remember? We spoke of it when he first made me feel…different. You will know it, too. The feelings can be mistaken for nothing else.” “I suppose.” Luna stood and picked up the water jugs. Her mother waited and would be annoyed if they were de42

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layed. “Thank you for talking to me about these things, Elena. I did not know who else to ask.” Elena leaned awkwardly and lifted her jugs. As she stood, a look of sudden comprehension crossed her face. “Are you feeling any of these urges? Is that why you’ve asked?” “Me? No, of course not!” “For Tunis, perhaps? Is that why you danced as you did last night? Are you desiring Tunis?” Luna scowled. “Motherhood has clouded your judgment. The only woman who would desire Tunis is a woman without a winter cloak to keep her warm. And I, my friend, have a nice woolen cloak. No, I do not desire Tunis, the hairiest man in all of Greece!”

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Chapter 4 Gentle swells pushed white-topped peaks across the surface of the ocean. The water, less languid than usual, called to her. Holding her tunic high around her thighs, Luna waded into the warm water. I’d like to throw my tunic to the sand and dive deep, to feel water lick my skin like a cat licks its paws after a hearty meal. I want it to touch me all over, the way no one has ever touched me. And I want to look like Elena—as satisfied as the fat, no-longer-starving cat. Fat and full and happy, that’s what I want. Oh, Aphrodite, goddess of love, does every woman feel these urges? Discreet coughing came from behind her. Luna whirled to face the beach, her skirts flying out around her legs. She didn’t consider what parts of her anatomy she exposed in that instant. It hardly seemed to matter. Standing on the beach, openly surveying her bare legs, was the man of her dreams. It was him. “Looks like fun,” called Nikos. “Is the water warm?” Luna nodded. Any sense of speech had flown from her mind along with all coherent thoughts. She felt the thudding of her heart and the familiar tingling begin in her center, but she couldn’t think of a single, solitary word to say to him. 44

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I’m finally alone with him and I’m standing here like a statue. He’ll think I belong in the Parthenon instead of his sleeping chamber. Oh! Zeus’ robes! I can’t believe I’m thinking of his sleeping chamber while he’s looking at me. Suppose he can tell, somehow, that I have such thoughts about him. “So it feels good, then? Nice and warm, like bath water?” Nikos’ voice was as soothing as aloe on sunburn. Luna felt her tensions ease, her face unfreeze and her thoughts return. “Yes, something like that.” She took a few steps toward the shore. “It feels better than bath water, though. There’s a current today; it massages your legs while you’re wading. Unusual, but good.” “Yes, that would be good.” He looked pointedly at the water dripping down her long, lean legs. “Actually, I can see...a lot that is good. Very good indeed.” When he smiled she felt as if someone had pulled her from a dark room into the sunshine. His eyes sparkled as they searched her face familiarly. His scrutiny didn’t put her off as the intense look should have; rather, it pulled her closer to him. She felt the inevitable tug between them she had always suspected existed. With confidence she hadn’t known she owned, Luna took step after step, until only a few feet of soft sand separated their bodies. Deliberately Nikos took a large step, cutting the distance between them in half. The spicy, woodsy scent of his body reached her, and she inhaled deeply, pulling the essence of him into her lungs. His breath stirred wisps of her hair as Luna gazed into his strong, handsome face. He was so close that she knew that she 45

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could reach out and touch him with her own hands if she wanted to. The knowledge of his nearness made her dizzy. “You are on the beach today,” she said softly. “I never see you on the beach. I never see anyone on the beach.” Chuckling, he shook his head. “No? Perhaps you do not see, yet you are seen.” She swallowed before she spoke, not truly trusting her voice. “Who would see me? This part of the beach borders my father’s land. Those are his olive trees.” Her hand swept to the rolling green hillside above them, but their eyes did not follow the gesture. They remained staring into each other’s eyes as if held in place by something unseen. Something irresistible. “And that is his vineyard. It is where he is today—in the vineyard with my brothers.” “Yes, I know. Your land borders the land that belongs to my family. Over there.” He pointed to the far side of the beach, where the land curved and disappeared into the distance. Again, they did not look at anything but the other’s face. “Over there is our land. We, too, grow grapes and olives.” “Yes, I know. So who, then, would see me?” Luna’s stomach felt as if it was filled with fireflies. There was fluttering inside her, mixed with a heat flame growing with every instant that passed. Waiting for him to speak felt like it took an eternity although it was but a few scant seconds. She felt a flush creep across her face, a flush that she was powerless to stop. “Someone who is interested.” His voice was as soft as the whisper of the breeze across the sand. Her skin prickled at the sound of him, the nearness of him. The imagined touch of him. “Very interested.” 46

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Abruptly he turned away. He took two steps then hesitated. For an instant she wondered what could cause him to linger, looking as if he wanted desperately to do or say something yet, in the end, choosing only to smile over his broad shoulder. Luna stood on the beach until long after Nikos turned the corner in the sand. She watched, her throat dry, her nipples tight and the heat in her body like that which comes from the kitchen’s cooking stones. Watching until he disappeared, she fought the urge to run after him. **** The first dream hit her hard. It was a dream like none she had ever experienced before. One she prayed to all the gods and goddesses in heaven that she would dream again. His lips traced a path from her earlobe to her collarbone, leaving a slim trail of shivering desire in their wake. She shuddered, feeling her breath quicken and her skin flush. Her breasts ached, pressed against the fabric of her night tunic. When his fingertips flitted across her tender nipples, turning them from soft pink circles to hard points, she moaned. For the briefest of moments Luna was startled by the sound, the sultry, deep noise, the primal sound. Nikos touched her nipples again and the moan that escaped from between her slightly parted lips made her body rumble against him. Luna arched her back, pressing herself against his long, hard body. She could feel his arousal, as clearly as she could feel her own. The pressure of his hips against hers sent exquisite shivers up her spine. His erection pushed against. It throbbed hotly between them, the pulse within it as steady and insistent as the thudding of their hearts. Luna’s hand drifted down his wide back, down his firm buttocks and 47

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around his body. She pressed her hand between their hips, edging slowly toward the part of him she longed to feel for herself.

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Chapter 5 “Why are you so grumpy today, daughter? Did you not sleep well?” Her mother’s brow furrowed as she stared across the courtyard at Luna. They were sweeping the large stone tiles clean, a job they did every morning. When the men left the house to work in the vineyard or the olive grove, go to town or out on the boat, she and her mother had the house and gardens to themselves. There were household servants, of course, but they were never more than friendly, silent faces. Usually Luna enjoyed the time spent doing household chores with her mother, but this morning she was feeling decidedly…puckish. Out of sorts. Frustrated. “I am not grumpy, Mother. It is just the sun. That is all.” She pushed the broom more vigorously against the tiles. It was hot, very hot. Hot enough to make her sweat while she swept. “Are you unwell?” Her mother reached over and placed a hand on her forehead. “You don’t ever complain of the heat like this. Are you feeling poorly?” She ducked, dislodging her mother’s palm. To soften the action she smiled as she moved. “I am just hot—not ill. Just hot. Do you not feel the heat?” 49

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“Of course I feel the heat, but it is a welcome feeling. My bones are older than yours. When you get to be my age, you’ll yearn for days where the sun shines hotly on your skin. Those are the days, daughter, when my old body feels the youngest. You’ll see, one day. You’ll see,” she said as she tugged a table back into position. Luna went to help her mother move the furniture. It wasn’t until they got the table into its usual spot that she saw them. Her heart sank. “Why are the extra dining cushions out? Why?” “We are having dinner guests tonight.” “Who?” The corners of her mother’s mouth twitched. She looked like she had a secret that would please even the fussiest god. “Your father and brothers have invited guests to our home. We will be gracious and welcome them with good food. And much laughter and dancing, if they desire it.” “Who?” Her mother waved her hand in the air between them as if she was swatting at a fly. The gesture was both bored and dismissive, but Luna refused to be put off so easily. “Who?” “Nikolai Demetrios, the scholar, and his sons. Also scholars.” She seemed as proud as if the highly esteemed sons were her own scholarly offspring. “His sons!” “Of course—his sons. Demetri and Adonis. They are coming to dinner tonight. You will wear your new sandals this time, Luna. I mean it, you will not make us look as if we cannot provide a decent pair of sandals for your feet again. No, tonight you will wear your good sandals. Do you hear me?” 50

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She considered, and then reconsidered, several replies. But she knew better than to disagree too strongly with her mother. Upset her mother and her father would hear about it. Upset her father and…well, it was simply better not to have to listen to her father’s loud lectures about the proper behavior for his daughter. Much better. Being female in Greece in the year 7 A.D. was many things. Independent, outspoken, defiant were not on the list of desired traits for a woman. Luna communicated her displeasure with a controlled flash of her eyes. She nodded her obedience instead of speaking her mind. And she vowed that she would not agree to wed either of the scholar’s sons. Ever. Her parents could push her toward their choices for her marital bed, but they could not force her to wed any of them. In the end, that was her only choice in this life. It was a choice she intended to make on her own. **** Holding her breath, she hoped to hear his voice. Hoping against hope as she stood staring out toward the horizon. Today she had given consideration to the way she held her tunic around her thighs. The fabric in her hands was held slightly higher than it had been yesterday. If Nikos wanted to look at her legs, she’d give him something to see! Her heart lurched at the sound of him. Turning, Luna stood for a long moment in the knee-deep water without speaking. They stared at each other, which was one of the most sensual experiences of her lifetime—so far. “Hello.” She made no move to walk toward the shore. Nikos kicked off his sandals and gathered the bottom hem of his tunic in one hand. He stepped into the ocean. 51

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As he walked into the warm water she saw the first pair of male knees she had ever seen. Strong and thick, covered with hair, his legs brought a smile to her lips. She dragged her eyes back to his face and found him smiling at her. “See something you like?” Luna nodded. There was no need for pretense or coyness with Nikos. “I do.” Her nipples tightened as he came to stand beside her. The nearness of him made other things happen to her body, too. She felt the tingling begin between her legs and she shifted, enjoying the even more delicious sensations she felt as her skin rubbed together beneath her tunic. “Does that shock you?” “Mmm…” The sound was like the rumble of an animal whose fur is being scratched, long and low and husky. “It does not shock me, fair Luna. Does it shock you that I, too, see things that I…like?” His eyes traveled downward with a familiarity that would have been offensive had it not been so welcome. They lingered on the hardened nubs that pressed against her clothing, as if they were trying to see through the soft fabric that covered her body. Another animalistic moan filled the air. “Things that I like very, very much.” The feeling of power was intoxicating. It was empowering and it made her bolder than she would have been otherwise. Perhaps it made her bolder than she should have been. Luna’s gaze did some exploring of its own. Her eyes brought her where her fingers could not go, taking in the masculine planes of the strong body beside her. She savored every inch of flesh she could see and imagined every bit that was hidden. His neck, thick and sturdy looking, topped broad 52

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shoulders, his shoulder muscles clustered beneath his skin in heavy ripples. Her eyes dipped low. When she got to the section of his tunic that intrigued her most there was no disappointment. An indisputable bulge stretched the fabric, one she ached to explore. Zeus’ robes! I’ve aroused his…the way he’s aroused me. Bliss, it would be sheer bliss if I could reach out and wrap my fingers around him here the same way I do in my dreams. To feel his hot, hard skin beneath my fingers, the strong, steady pulse that I know as well as I know the beating of my own heart. To pull his hardness toward my— “And you? What do you think? How much do you like what you see, Luna?” She swallowed, searching for words that wouldn’t make her sound like a complete fool. She couldn’t possibly tell him what she really thought. The idea of putting voice to her thoughts made her skin flush. “I…I…I like it very much.” She looked up into his eyes, willed him to see how much she honestly meant what she said. At first glance she felt him understanding her telegraphed messages, felt him feeling her thoughts and feelings. Then, as quickly and unexpectedly as a flash of lightening during a sudden storm, his gaze hardened. His eyes growled as his body had, without any sound but not needing sound. She could hear it in her mind, the roar that came from within the flashing eyes. “Do you like it as much as what you saw when you looked at Tunis Peliconas? Did you like what you saw when you danced for him? Danced for him like a woman dances for a man she wishes to-to-to seduce!” he sputtered angrily. 53

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Shock waves surged through her body, replacing the moist tingling sensations with coldness and horror. He wasn’t through. Like one possessed by the minions of the underworld, intent on wreaking as much havoc as he could in the shortest amount of time possible, Nikos continued. “Did he do this to you? Did hairy Tunis do this, fair Luna?” The hem of his tunic fell into the ocean when Nikos pulled her roughly against him. Their kiss was fast and frenzied, a mingling of tongues and lips and the overwhelming pressure of desire held in check with the barest of restraints. Luna nearly toppled over at his release. Without a word, Nikos turned and splashed out of the water without giving her a backward glance. Her lips were swollen and her sex was throbbing but her heart was singing. Nikos He kissed me! Praise be to Aphrodite and all the gods and goddesses above and below! He kissed me—he feels what I feel… And his loins…I felt his hardness, and it was…huge.

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Chapter 6 Seated between Demitri and Adonis during dinner wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. When the two men realized that she wasn’t interested in either of them, their theories or musings, they turned to each other for company. They talked above her, around her and through her for the duration of the meal. Luna couldn’t have been more pleased. Their preoccupation with each other left her free to explore her own, more important, thoughts. They were thoughts, she knew, that would shock any one of the other diners, but she didn’t care. They were her thoughts. She was entitled to have them. The contents of her mind were not open for scrutiny, comparison or shared enjoyment. Her fantasies were her own and she meant to keep them to herself. The part she couldn’t keep hidden was the satisfied smile that played at the corners of her mouth while she explored the passages of her mind. It was a smile that aroused attention and raised eyebrows between her parents but still, it was something that couldn’t be helped. I felt him, his manhood. It felt hard and hot beneath his robes. It pressed against my skin like a fat little animal between us, with a life of its own, a heartbeat of its own. I felt it, the steady beat of his body as he pushed against me. I felt it…and I want to feel it again. 55

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“My daughter Luna will dance for us now.” The voice pulled her back to reality. As she rose to take her place in the center of the courtyard Luna felt slickness at her secret spot, a slippery wetness that sent tingles of pleasure up her spine. When she danced, she did not notice the eyes upon her body. She did not feel the bite of the pigskin sandals. She did not hear the gasps of her parents as her engorged nipples pushed against her tunic and her hips swayed sinuously in the sultry night air. Her hair covered her face as the first delicious waves washed over her. She shuddered as she danced, and no one watching knew for sure whether it was dancing or love that they witnessed. All they knew was that they couldn’t rise from the table without showing clearly how the performance had affected each and every one of them. **** “You need a man,” said her mother. “That is what you need. A man.” Her boar-bristle brush hit the tiles with increased speed as she spoke. The courtyard floor was getting the best cleaning it ever had. Luna had been waiting for her mother to speak. It was no secret that it was coming, this lecture about her matrimonial obligations. Truthfully, she supposed she had brought it upon herself, with her behavior last night. Her dancing couldn’t be ignored—wouldn’t be ignored—by her parents, she knew that. But she wouldn’t marry any of the men in the parade they had held these recent weeks. It would be better to pitch herself off the top of Mount Olympus before marrying any of those men. Luna would ra56

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ther burn in Hades than kiss hairy-back Tunis or the brainwithout-manhood scholars. And the others—pah! They were not fit to lick Nikos’ toes. It’s Nikos—with his soft lips and hard little man-animal—or nothing! “A man? Life should be so simple, Mother, that I could say to myself ‘I need a man’ and one would show up, ready to be needed!” Her tone was light and her laughter quick and easy but her mother graced her with a sour expression. “Show up? But they have been showing up! Night after night, we have them in our home! Your father and brothers have extended dinner invitations to every man on Corfu they think will please you, yet you refuse even to smile at any of them. And they are all good, honest, wealthy men. The kind that will make a good husband to you, if you would only choose one of them already.” With a snort of disgust, her mother threw the broom to the courtyard tiles. It clattered before skidding to a stop against a potted plant. Luna had never before seen her mother so angry. Not even when her brothers had lost the family boat by crashing it on the jetty at low tide, or when her father had come home drunk after a night of celebrating the olive harvest. No, this frustrated hostility was something new coming from her mother. Her own broom hit the tiles with an equally loud clatter. “I will not marry the first hairy backside that you and Father deem suitable for me! I swear by Zeus’ robes that I would rather die a wrinkled old virgin before I’d marry any of those horrible men!” **** 57

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Elena was beside the fountain when Luna stormed past. She didn’t see her friend but she heard her voice as she was walking. Somehow the voice she knew so well penetrated the maelstrom of thoughts swirling inside her head. “Luna!” When Luna lifted her eyes from the ground she found Elena hurrying after her, like a fat spider, all belly with flailing arms and legs. She stopped and waited until Elena caught up, then reached over and hugged the other woman against her tightly, holding on for much longer than necessary. When she pulled back she had tears falling from her eyes in steady streams. They dripped off her chin and wet her shoulders before sliding down into her tunic. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Elena tugged Luna’s arm, pulling her toward a fallen log that sat moss-covered and shaded beneath a tree. “Come, sit here with me. Tell me what is wrong with you.” Sniffling, wiping her nose on the skirt of her tunic, Luna sat. With shaky hands she brushed her palms against her cheeks, wiped their wetness on her lap and struggled to find calm. She hadn’t expected to feel so many emotions all at once—joy and despair, hope and disappointment. How to begin to explain the lunacy that suddenly gripped her? What is happening to me? How have I gone from a normal, happy woman to a crying crazy person? What’s going on? “Tell me,” coaxed Elena as she folded her hands across her stomach and waited for Luna to speak. She waited as if listening to her friend’s story was the only thing she had to do, as if it were the most pressing matter she had to attend to. “Well, where to begin?” 58

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“At the beginning, of course.” Elena shrugged philosophically. When she lifted her shoulders the baby’s girth shifted and Luna smiled. It was hard to take someone seriously when their belly had a mind of its own. “Mother and Father and my interfering brothers.” Her smile turned to a scowl in a flash. “Ah, the marriage problem,” said Elena, nodding sagely. “That’s right. They keep bringing men to the house— Tunis and the brain brothers and any other man they can think to bring. By Zeus’ robes, I am sick to death of this constant stream of horrid men!” “They don’t bring the right man?” “That’s right. I…Elena, I found the right man, the man who makes my heart pound and my…my body tingle.” Luna lowered her voice as she spoke, fearful of being overheard. It was the first time she had allowed herself to speak the words out loud. “I love him.” When Elena squealed the belly twitched—forcefully— and Luna jumped. “Stop it, you’re scaring the little one with all of that screeching. Stop it. I did not say that he loves me, only that I love him.” “Nikos?” Luna’s heart jumped at the sound of his name on the warm air. Her body tensed as she recalled his touch upon her skin. She nodded, unable to speak. “I knew it.” Elena grinned as she sat back against a tree trunk and stared at the ground between her feet. “We’ll have to plan a big matrimonial ceremony, like the one that Alexander and I had. Much food, dancing and singing, lots of—” 59

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Luna held her hand up in the air between their bodies. She waved it impatiently as she spoke, as if trying to clear the misunderstanding that was obviously brewing. “Wait! I did not say that Nikos loves me, only that I…well, that I love him. That is not the same thing as having him love me. I do not know how he feels, so don’t begin planning matrimonial ceremonies, food and dancing—there is no need to waste your energy thinking of such things. Things that will never come to pass.” Her throat swelled, making it difficult to catch a breath. She hated to hear the words but she knew they must be said. “The finger of Aphrodite has touched you. It will come to pass. You will see.” Elena’s smug look brooked no contention. She smiled, as if explaining the most elementary concept in the world to a newborn. You’re going to make a very good mother. But you do not know the feelings of a man like Nikos. I doubt if anyone—not even Aphrodite herself—knows the feelings of the man. “But so what if the finger has touched me? If the finger has touched only me, it does not matter! It does not mean that he loves me, too.” Elena shook her head, her expression one of unguarded amazement. “Ah, Luna…Aphrodite has more than one finger.”

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Chapter 7 The rays of the afternoon sun fell hotly on her head. She unbound her hair and shook it loose across her shoulders. It cascaded down her back, touching her waist with every turn of her head. Dolphins played in the gentle swells just offshore. They swam side by side, back and forth and up and down as the rolling water lifted them. Luna stared, enraptured. “Watching them play?” It seemed natural that he would join her on the beach, what she had been hoping for. They didn’t waste time acting surprised at finding each other in their special spot. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” “Mmm…very.” Luna forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on the swimming dolphins and the clear blue ocean. He sat on the hot sand beside her, close to her side yet far enough from her that their bodies weren’t touching. It was hard, but she resisted the urge to move closer to him. I want more, Nikos. I want more of what you gave me yesterday. I want to feel your lips on mine, feel your body against mine…I want to feel the tingling that only thoughts of you can bring. Nikos, I want more. “I hoped that you would come today. I wanted to see you. To talk with you. I have been waiting for you for a long 61

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time,” Nikos said quietly, his deep voice a balm on her love tortured soul. His bare toes pressed into the sand as he spoke. Her eyes watched his toes as her pulse quickened. How does it feel to be the sand? How does it feel to have your body pressing into its silky softness? Am I crazy for longing to be like sand so that you can press into me, too? “You waited for me?” Turning her head just enough to see his profile, she held her breath. He waited—for her! “I did. I would have waited forever if I had to—I needed to see you.” He met her eyes with a look that set her body on fire. “I had no choice, Luna. With you, I never have a choice.” She tore her eyes from his, bringing her gaze back to the sea. The dolphins were gone but she didn’t lament their loss. Instead, she was filled with desire for the man who spoke the words she had heard only in her dreams. “I…I must take the blame, though, for my distasteful behavior yesterday.” Her blood ran cold, her desire frozen in a heartbeat. Turning, she saw remorse on his chiseled face, an expression that brought the fire of Hades to her. She grabbed a handful of soft sand and tossed it at a sandpiper that scurried near the water’s edge. It ran off, a series of chirps its only response. “Blame?” she snorted disdainfully. “You take blame for what happened? You are ashamed, then?” “Of course I’m ashamed—what else would I be, if not ashamed? I had no right to do that to you, to force my attentions on you like that. Yes, I am, more than I can say. I am ashamed that the first time we kissed it was not softer. More gentle. More loving.” Soft…gentle…loving? 62

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“Nikos?” “I love you, Luna. I have always loved you. I was angry that you have been sharing meals—and what else, I do not know—with so many other men. But that was no excuse for my bad behavior.” Scowling, he shook his head and sent an unruly lock of thick black hair falling across his brow. “Nothing else.” As she smiled, Luna reached out and pushed the hair off of his forehead with fingers that were sure and steady. “I have not shared anything with anyone else, Nikos. I have shared only with you. I have saved everything—for you.”

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Chapter 8 “Where have you been? I have been waiting for that water.” Impatiently her mother took a full water jug. “These stones must be cleaned properly today. They must sparkle.” She poured the contents of the jug on the stones and began to scrub with a long-handled brush. “Go fetch another, would you? And don’t take too long, do you hear?” Luna took the empty jug back to the fountain and filled it for the third time. She was too preoccupied with thoughts of love and romance to concern herself with sparkling stones and water jugs. She would have gladly carried water jugs and scrubbed stones all morning long if it meant that she was free to lose herself in thinking about the plans that could not be ignored. Fortunately, her mother seemed engaged in her own thoughts. They passed the morning peacefully, if busily. **** He waited on the beach. Quietly she crossed the sand then stood behind him for a long measure. “Today I watch you as you have watched me. It is interesting. Now I see why you do it.” When he turned to face her she saw a smile as wide as the gates of the Acropolis covered his face. She grinned back at 64

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him, unable to do anything else but look at him while her heart thudded madly in her chest. “I did not know if you would come. I wondered if you would change your mind.” As she looked into his face her heart thudded so loudly she was certain he must be able to hear. “I wondered…” “You wondered if I would change my mind about loving you, Nikos? That is not my choice to make—my heart has already chosen you. I have been touched by the goddess of love and am powerless to change that. And even if I could change it, I would not do it. I love you, Nikos, with a love that is forever,” she said simply. It is the only truth I know, dearest. Even if you decide that you do not love me, I will always love you. With a smile, Nikos took her hand and led her to a grove of mahogany trees. Their long branches and lush leaves fell around the grouping of tree trunks. He pushed aside the branches and pulled her under the glossy leaves with him. They were in a cool, dimly lit glade. Tiny, with barely enough room for the two of them to stand beside the soft linen tapestry spread on the thick grass, it was the perfect spot for what was about to happen. “You are sure? You can change your mind if you would like to, we have done nothing yet that can’t be stopped…we can wait if it suits you, my Luna.” “It does not suit me.” She reached for the shoulder knot that held her tunic in place. Her fingers were slow and steady as she worked it open to reveal the delicate skin at the side of her neck, hesitating for a heartbeat before she opened her fingers and dropped the 65

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fine fabric. It pooled around her feet but neither watched it fall. Nikos drank her with his eyes as if she was a pitcher of cold water on a sweltering summer day. Her soft curves, so fair and unblemished, were on display to him as they had never been displayed to anyone before. The very thought of being the only man to ever look at her lush breasts with their tiny rose caps and her sex, nestled within the shiny tangle of black curls, made him wild with desire. He felt himself thickening and knew he was powerless to stop it. “Undress me, Luna. If you want me unclothed, you will have to unclothe me. It is the way with men and women— especially the first time,” he said, his voice hoarse. This Luna knew, but she did not say. Unwilling to go to him unprepared, she asked Elena to tell her about the ways of love. It was necessary she remove her own clothing, in order to give herself freely. Too, she must unclothe him, that he never feels he gave something she did not want. In that moment Luna knew she was in the one place in all of Greece where a woman held any power. She knew she was finally in charge of something. You are at my mercy. If I choose to make you pleasure me and decide to neglect you, then you are powerless to change that. But I will not neglect you, my love. I can promise you that I will not neglect you. When his tunic fell so did her eyes. His penis was hard and thick and stuck straight out of a thatch of dark black hair. It looked as if it were straining to reach her, to touch her, the way she longed to touch it. Luna took her time gazing at his body before she sat on the blanket, pulling him down beside her. When he kissed 66

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her, she kissed him with a passion that surprised both of them. And when he lowered her to her back, she went willingly, with an ease that surprised neither of them. Their kisses were soft and sensual. He traced a line from her lips to her earlobe, then down her neck to her collarbone. When she cried out in frustration, Nikos ran his tongue lower, to slide along the slope of one perfectly round breast. He pushed his tongue across her hardened nipple, feeling her shudder beneath him, before he closed his lips around her pink nub and suckled. He licked and stroked both beautiful breasts until she moaned aloud. Luna’s only regret was he didn’t have two mouths so he could lick both at the same time. “Nikos…oh, it feels…oh…” Their hips pressed together without any conscious effort. She wanted him with an intensity that defied reason and his cock throbbed hotly, tapping out a primal rhythm as it strained for release. “Don’t wait, Nikos. Don’t wait.” She bit him, feeling his hard muscles between her teeth as her body screamed for satisfaction. “Don’t wait, please don’t wait. I want you…now.” The last escaped as a whimper. She knew that somewhere within her was the glorious release for the overwhelming desire that swept through her. “But-but it’s the first time, and—” Luna spread her legs below him, opening herself up to what she so desperately wanted. Needed. Couldn’t live without. When his cock brushed across her wetness she felt as if she had been touched by Poseidon’s trident. Liquid thrill pulsed within her as Nikos came to her. It was painless, as if 67

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the goddess of love had touched Luna between her legs and opened the way for true love to come easily to them. The exquisite spasms that shook them for time-stopping moments beneath the trees in the ancient land sealed them together for eternity. In those instants of crashing bliss they knew that every moment that led up to their joining and every moment that would follow it was preordained. They knew it as surely as they knew their names. **** The sun was heading toward the horizon as they walked, holding hands, on the beach. There was no need for words; their hearts had said all that needed to be said. When they reached the edge of Luna’s father’s land she turned to Nikos and smiled a rueful smile. “I hate to leave you,” she murmured. A confident grin turned up the corners of his passionswollen lips. He looked like he had a secret he was bursting to share. “I hate it, too.” Nikos gave her a long, tender kiss that spoke of more to come. When he pulled back he grinned. “But I will see you later.” Luna lifted her eyebrows and turned to walk home. When she didn’t respond, Nikos called after her. “Did you not hear me? I said I’ll see you later!” She paused beneath an olive tree and turned to glance over her shoulder at the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. With a giggle, she called back to him. “I heard you. You’re coming for dinner tonight—you’re the new man my father and brothers are bringing for me to look at. This time, I may tell my father that I approve of his choice!” 68

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His hearty laughter filled the air as she walked back to her father’s house. Yes, tonight I will approve of my father’s choice. I will marry Nikos and we will make love many, many more times. Many more times.

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SMOKE, MOLOKAI by

Rusty Wicks

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Chapter 1 The house was small, not much more than a large hut, with a lanai running around all four sides like a screened-in insulator between the heart of the place and the vastness of the land that held it. Lani paused before the door, turning the old-fashioned key over in her hand. It was ancient and hardly seemed necessary. A locked door in the middle of nowhere? Just another one of Uncle Ben’s eccentricities. This place was so far off the beaten track that she bet door-to-door salesman didn’t even show up. Or Bible-thumpers, either. This might prove to be just what I need. A spot far away from those things, and all the rest, too. The rich and famous, the has-beens, wannabees and hangers-on. Fuck it. Uncle Ben’s inheritance just may be the answer to my prayers. It took a bit of maneuvering but she got the key in the lock. It turned with a sharp squeak but the heavy tumblers shifted within the ornately carved door. Running her fingertips over the exotic wood, she realized that it and its heavy lock were the most ostentatious parts of the house’s exterior. The door stuck. The handle turned but it refused to open when Lani pushed against it. With a muttered curse, she put her shoulder against the wood and pushed. It moved, just barely, so she took a deep breath and slammed her shoulder 71

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against the door. An agonizing creak accompanied the door’s movement but it finally opened. She picked up her expensive leather suitcase and carried it inside. Tiny dust motes fluttered in the air, suspended in the thin fingers of light that filtered in through the drawn wooden blinds. Waving her hand before her face, she walked through the rooms, opening shutters and windows. When the salty air wafted through the house she took a deep breath and smiled. “There. This place might turn out to be livable after all,” Lani said, her voice consumed by the cluttered space. “Once I get it cleaned up, that is. Holy hell. Uncle Ben, were you some kind of packrat or what?” The rooms were filled with antiques, heavy early Hawaiian carved pieces that were beautiful. There was a piano in one area of the lanai and she ran her fingertips over the ivory keys with a small stab of pain in her heart. He’d been the one to introduce her to her love of music. Uncle Ben. She’d been two and a half when he’d taught her to play chopsticks. Books filled shelves in every room except the kitchen. Many of them were his books, ones he’d either written on his own or with others. It was funny to think of such a private man, the scholar Benjamin Fulbright, winner of the Carson Prize for literature, as a collaborator on anything. To the best of her knowledge, he hadn’t left this property for several decades. And now that he was dead, his ashes in her rental car, he wouldn’t leave the property ever again. “Oh, it’s a lovely gift, Uncle Ben,” Lani said softly as she reached for an old photo in a tarnished silver frame. “Thank you. I promise to use what you’ve left me wisely. I’ll make a new start for myself here, I promise you that. I won’t ever forget—” 72

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“Aloha.” The voice was deep and friendly but it startled her. With shaky hands she put the photograph back on the bookshelf as she lifted her gaze to the stranger’s voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry. It’s just that I saw someone over here and I thought I’d best see who it was.” He was tall and dark, with skin the color of a coconut shell. Hawaiian, with big brown eyes, chiseled features and a wide, sparkling smile. Shirtless, his chest was smooth and broad and his abdomen rippled enticingly, his muscles disappearing into the waistband of his cut-off shorts. Lani’s eyes traveled over him quickly yet thoroughly. As they passed the well-defined bump in his only piece of clothing, her nipples tensed, pressing against the linen dress that had kept her cool all day but suddenly felt stiflingly hot. “Aloha.” Crossing to the screen door that led from the lanai to the beach, she said, “I’m Lani Fulbright. Benjamin Fulbright was my—” “Uncle,” he said, stepping inside as she held the door open. He looked even bigger up close, despite the fact that Lani wasn’t any wisp of a woman. Tall, rail thin, with arms and legs that had been long enough to make her a champion swimmer during her university years, she was nearly eye-toeye with the man but his width made her feel like a dwarf. There wasn’t a spare bit of flesh on him but he was wide and solid and looked as unmovable as one of the mountains running down the center of the long island. “I know. I could pick you out of a crowd. Leilani Fulbright, isn’t it?” You knew Uncle Ben. Nodding, she said, “It is, but no one except Uncle Ben calls—called—me that. You must have known him, then?” 73

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“I did. I’m sorry for your loss. It must have been a great shock to you.” He put one large hand on her upper arm and gave her a gentle squeeze. In California it would have seemed an odd gesture but here it felt perfectly normal. It infused her with warmth that was refreshing in its generosity and she smiled. “Thank you. It was a shock. I had just spoken to him a few days earlier.” She could still hear his voice, so clear and reasonable, as he gave her an assessment on the latest of her love life crises. “He was giving me advice and I thought he’d be around forever. So selfish of me, to think that he’d stick around just to listen to me and advise me, to wait until I have my…well, you don’t want to hear all that.” “He was giving you advice, if I may be so bold, on a romantic encounter you’d recently ended.” His eyebrows lifted, heavy black swatches of hair that looked like twin caterpillars above his dark eyes. “You know about that? Uncle Ben told you?” Lani felt her cheeks color. She’d imagined that her failures at finding a man were secrets she and her uncle shared. Who knew that this man knew of her foibles, too? “I was here when he spoke with you. Honestly, I spent a great deal of time with your uncle and we shared much. A love of music. Of reading. We enjoyed the land and the people. It is isolated here—it could get very lonely without a friend or two.” Taking his hand from her arm, he pushed it into his pocket and shrugged. “We have to find companionship where we can sometimes.” I don’t think my uncle was…could he have been? This guy seems to know an awful lot—a lot of private things. Were he and Uncle Ben… Hell, there’s only one way to find out. 74

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“So you and my uncle…were you more than friends? Were you…well, you know?” Despite considering herself a modern woman, Lani couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “Ben and I? You mean, were we lovers?” His laughter was deep, a booming sound that echoed through her mind and body, filling every empty space within her with a fluttering sensation, sound waves that made her body tingle. “No, we were friends, that’s all. Not lovers. Definitely not.” He shook his head, chuckling as he smiled. His denial of sexual intimacy with her beloved uncle was something that mattered to her a great deal. She wasn’t sure why it mattered, only knew that it did. “Well. Okay, then. I don’t mean to pry; it’s just that you sounded so involved with his life that I didn’t know how exactly you two were connected.” He looked deeply into her eyes for long, quiet moments before he spoke. “You’re not prying. Peni was your uncle, you have a right to know all about him. And I would be honored to share my memories—and there are many of them— of my friend with you. But first, perhaps you’d like to rest. I know your trip from the mainland wasn’t long but it must have been tiring regardless. I’m sure we’ll see more of each other—much more—very soon.” Peni. The Hawaiian translation for Ben. You did know my uncle well. He loved that name. Turning, he stepped outside, into the soft white sand that met the doorway. He hesitated, before he said, “Aloha, then. Until tomorrow, Leilani.” She watched him walk toward the beach, his hands in his pockets and his face turned to the water. He was a good distance away before she realized that she’d forgotten to ask him 75

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anything besides his sexual affiliation, and even that hadn’t been a substantial answer, not really. “Hey, I don’t even know your name,” Lani said, stepping out into the talcum-soft sand. “Mano,” he called, his voice finding her as surely as a wave finds the shore. Mano. Doesn’t that mean…shark? Or what is the other translation? Isn’t it something…hmm. Oh, that’s right! Mano means passionate lover. Right. A tingle of anticipation coursed through her body, leaving a trail of heat that touched her from breasts to sex.

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Chapter 2 “Hey, let me get that for you,” Mano said, reaching for the cardboard carton. “Where’s it headed?” “To the trunk of the rental. I boxed up some clothing for the church’s clothing drive. I figure I’ll just drop it off when I go into town.” She watched as he placed the box beside the others, closed the trunk and turned to her with a rueful smile. “There aren’t a whole lot of fancy dress clothes, mostly just serviceable, everyday stuff. It’s the kind of clothing Uncle Ben was comfortable in. I hope others will be comfortable in them, too, that they’ll get some use out of them. I plan on poking around in the rest of the closets to see if there’s anything else that I think someone could use, but that’s a project for another day. For now, these will have to do.” Lani placed a hand on the hot surface of the car’s trunk for a second before she lifted her eyes to his. “That sounds like a good idea. I’m sure there are people who could use these things. You have a good heart, just as your uncle used to say,” Mano said, smiling. “Thanks. I think he may have been biased, though. ” Rather than returning to the house, Lani headed for the golden sand beach. The small house sat on the southern side of the island, amidst a free-roaming riot of flowers, low-limbed trees and tangled vegetation. Her uncle’s property ran down 77

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to the ocean, extending for a considerable distance along the sand on either side of the house. There were no other dwellings to be seen from either the beach or the house. Their feet found purchase on the water soaked tide line and they slowly walked to a cluster of volcanic boulders that protruded from the sand and stretched into the water. They looked like the poked shells of enormous sea turtles and when they reached the boulders they climbed them. Finding a smooth expanse, Lani sat, her feet dangling into the water. Mano sat beside her, his hip touching hers. There was no threatening feel to sitting on a deserted beach with a strong man, a virtual stranger, as there would have been back on the mainland. Lani felt secure beside this man, for whatever reason. When his body touched hers she didn’t move an inch. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” Lani stared, transfixed, out to sea. “So calm and peaceful. So serene. You feel almost like any care or worry melts away, disappearing into the water and carried away on the waves. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” “Yes, it’s beautiful, but I’m a bit biased, perhaps,” he said, chuckling. She looked into his eyes, saw the twinkle in them and knew he was teasing. “How so?” When he shrugged, his massive shoulders looked like smaller versions of the boulder they sat on. A shiver of excitement filled her at the sight of his rippling muscles, so fluid beneath his smooth, dark skin. She longed to reach out and stroke him, to feel the strength of the man with her own hands. 78

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“Well, I was born not far from here. I think this is the most incredible spot on earth and I wouldn’t live anywhere else. Did you know that Molokai is called The Friendly Island, or that the beach here is the longest one in Hawaii?” Lani watched his eyes grow deeper, more molten, with each word. The love he felt for the island was evident and his excitement for his homeland was something that amused— and excited—her. “No, I didn’t know that.” Their faces were so close that any small adjustment would have brought them together. It was a temptation that was tugging at her steadily, the desire to feel his mouth on hers. “I wonder what else you could teach me about this island, Mano.” His eyes dropped to her lips and for an instant she thought he was going to kiss her. Raising an eyebrow, he met her gaze. The corners of his lips twitched as he said, “Many things, I imagine. There are probably many things we could teach each other—if we allowed ourselves the pleasure.” Warm water swirled around their ankles, the sucking noise of the tide against the rocks the only sound. Lani’s nipples hardened. It was a feeling that made her arch her back like a cat in the sun and as her breasts pressed against the silky fabric of her bathing suit Mano’s gaze fell. Being the object of his consideration made more heat grow within her, made her nipples harder and her crotch slick. Swallowing hard, Lani took a deep breath and tried—unsuccessfully— to still her pounding heart. “Swimming. Would you like to go swimming?” Smiling, she nodded. They’d come close to acknowledging their mutual desire but in the brightness of the morning it seemed somewhat out of place. 79

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It was a good call. She didn’t know if she could have had wild sex here on the boulders—not so early in the morning, that is. Just a little too tawdry for her taste. Lani had to have some kind of romance, too. But the little game they were playing…she liked it. A lot. They dropped their hot bodies into the water without a splash and began to swim parallel to the shore. She noticed that he was a strong swimmer, too. The way he cut through the water effortlessly, his long black hair slick against his head, was sexy. He sliced the water like a hot knife through butter and Lani became nearly hypnotized watching his dark arms match hers stroke for stroke. His endurance made her wonder if he had as much strength, as much endurance, during other—more carnal— activities. His body seemed built for movement, and was hypnotizing to watch. When they finally headed for shore they moved more slowly, cooling down and lowering their heart rates in tandem. Walking through the knee-high surf, they reached the final foot of water and sat, their bodies caressed by the gently moving current around them. “That was great, thanks.” Lani wiped water from her face with one hand. She twisted her long blond hair into a knot at the back of her neck, wringing the excess moisture into the water near her waist, making a sound like raindrops. “I’ve been planning to swim every day but it’s something that kept getting away from me. I put on a suit each morning but at night when I took it off I realized I’d never made it into the ocean. If you weren’t here today I probably wouldn’t have done it now, either.” 80

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Mano’s shoulder touched hers as he turned to face her. “Then I’m glad I suggested it, Leilani. The call of the sea shouldn’t be ignored. It is something that we should be as close to as we can, as often as we can.” His voice grew huskier as he spoke. When his mouth lowered to hers she was grateful. She didn’t know how much longer she could bear to be close to him without being touched by him. Their kiss was passionate, a kiss that began with the intensity of a well-formed fire, consuming their bodies with smoke and heat that even the water that held them couldn’t quell. His tongue pressed into her mouth as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. They were equally aggressive in their desire, clutching and pressing and allowing their bodies to react with unrestrained abandon. They fell backwards into the water, Mano’s strong arm holding her head high while his free hand cupped her breast. Pushing aside her bathing suit top, he palmed her skin, massaging her roughly. He touched her as no one dared touch her before. None of those politically correct Hollywood-don’t-muss-me touches. Mash me—muss me—oh, yes, touch me. Keeping some distance between their hips, Mano writhed against the sand as his fingertips tugged on her nipples. She knew his penis was hard and that he was having a difficult time keeping control. By the way he squeezed her skin and ravished her mouth, Lani recognized he hadn’t had sex in a long time. Her hands trailed down his hard, strong back. The feel of his wet skin under hers, coupled with the strong surges of desire that coursed through her, spurred her on. Lani dropped one hand to stroke his buttock and when she felt his muscular 81

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form beneath the wet swimsuit she gave his flesh a fast squeeze. “Ohhh,” he groaned, pulling his mouth from hers so abruptly that Lani’s lips made a smacking noise as they left his. Biting his lower lip, Mano took his hand from her breast and pulled her upright, his hand beneath her neck raising her upper body as effortlessly as a breeze holds a feather. The swiftness of the change made her dizzy. “What is it, Mano? What?” His answer was to stand, water cascading down his thick legs as he strode from the surf. With her bikini top around her waist and every nerve ending trembling, Lani watched him storm down the beach. Each giant footstep kicked up a spray of sand. **** Outside the lanai there was an outdoor shower. Not any ordinary square shower but a heavenly teak and stone structure that had jets of water cascading like waterfalls from all sides. The area was large enough for a bench—long and wide enough to double as a cot if one so desired. Lani discovered the outdoor shower her second morning at the house and hadn’t used the indoor bathroom for anything other than the toilet and sink since. She let the spray from the overhead fixture cascade down her back. After Mano’s abrupt departure she’d lain in the surf for so long it felt as if she had sand in nearly every orifice in her body. Soaping and scrubbing had relieved her of her sandiness but the itch that the handsome man had given her couldn’t be satisfied as easily. There was no explanation she could conjure to explain what the hell had happened. She couldn’t figure out why Ma82

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no left like that—she knew damn well that he wanted her. So what the hell happened? “Aloha.” At the sound of his voice she whirled around, her eyes wide as they found his. They were both tall enough to look at each other above the wooden sides of the shower and they stared, neither blinking, for what felt like an endless span. “Aloha yourself. What can I do for you, Mano? Whatwhat do you need?” “Invite me in. I could use a shower—to start.” Lani nodded, and then took a step backward. She watched as he unwrapped a towel from around his waist and hung it from one of the hooks outside the shower. Then he unlatched the door and stepped into the enclosure with her. His body was even more exquisite than she’d imagined. He was hairless, except for the light covering on his calves and a small nest of black curls at the base of his penis. His penis was long and thick, even at rest. A deeper shade of mocha than the rest of his body, it had a dark rose-colored tip that made her think of a large, ripe cranberry. Mano reached for a bar of coconut-scented soap and, smiling, held it out to her. As she took it he grabbed the second bar. Stroking creamy lather across her wet skin, he massaged her gently. When his fingertips reached her nipples they were less demanding than they had been earlier and she sighed, loving the feel of his touch on her. His body became soap slick within minutes as she lathered him up. Taking care to avoid his thickening penis, she soaped from his shoulders to his waist, then around his cock to his upper thighs. 83

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Mano slipped his hand between her thighs. Inhaling sharply as he found, then fondled, her throbbing clitoris, she parted her legs, raising one foot to the bench to give him greater access to her tingling folds. “Touch me, Leilani.” His cock stood nearly flat against his rippled abdomen. Lani wrapped her fingers around it and slid her hand along his silken steel shaft. She moved slowly at first, but as he pushed her closer to orgasm her hand moved faster. The first spasms of her climax forced a strangled cry from her lips. He held her as she came, then, as the waves subsided, Mano turned her so she faced the corner of the shower. Pressing his cock between her legs, he thrust sharply, filling her. Her pussy clenched his hard shaft, holding him tight, as he thrust several times. Just as abruptly as he’d entered her, he withdrew. His large hands fondled her ass cheeks, urging them apart. The tip of his cock, slick with her own juices, pressed against her tight, brown hole. Before she could react, he shifted, pushing himself slowly into her. “Mano—” “Relax. Just relax,” he crooned, easing his cock gently into her body. Lani’s experiences with sex had always been missionaryor-bust. Not because she wasn’t open to new things but because the men she’d been with were more focused on climaxing with the least amount of effort. She’d heard of anal sex, of course, but had never felt inclined to try it for herself, imagining it to be messy. Painful. Nothing like the full, heavy feeling she experienced as Mano’s cock insinuated itself into her. 84

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One big hand on the small of her back pressed her forward and she bent slightly, holding onto the walls for support. When she moved he pressed closer, sliding deeper. Mano put his fingers to her wet pussy and began to stroke, his hand gentling her slick skin as his cock moved ever forward. A shiver of delight passed through her as he pressed his thumb against her clit. With a sigh, Lani let her head fall forward, against the shower wall. “That’s right, baby. Relax,” he whispered, pushing his penis into her secret flesh. “Almost there. Almost in, just relax.” Almost? It figures that the first time I try this the guy has to have a big cock. Where’s the teeny tiny pecker guy from high school now? I’ll bet he would already be in there by now—but I wonder if it’d feel this damn good? I had no idea this could feel…so sexy. Oh, yes. Just a little farther, Mano. Just a little bit more… His hips finally touched her ass. When he began to push himself in and out of her, his fingers moved over her pussy at the same speed as his cock. Straightening her back, Lani’s breasts bounced as his hips moved faster and faster. Closing her thighs around his hand, Lani came, the spasms of her empty pussy pushing her slickness onto his hand. Mano arched his back as his cock began to jerk inside her, flooding her with wet heat where she’d never felt it before. His climax seemed like it would never end, his moans filling her mind as his penis filled her ass. Leaning against her heavily as the last of his cum seeped from him, Mano wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, hugging her. He rested his forehead against her skull and jerked his hips back, pulling himself from her in one fast stroke. Without speaking, he held her as the water fell 85

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across their bodies. They stayed that way until their heartbeats slowed. Then, without either of them having said a word, he left. Bare-assed and wet, he walked through the tangle of wildflowers and disappeared beyond the branches of a mahogany tree. Your ass is beautiful. And I’ll bet it’s not as sore as mine is right now.

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Chapter 3 He was waiting for her on the lanai when she woke the next morning. Sitting in one of the cushioned chairs, he looked like he was accustomed to the soft pillows, as if he’d sat there many times already. “Aloha.” She emerged from the house slowly, like a butterfly from a cocoon. One of her uncle’s white cotton shirts flapped about her legs, unbuttoned to her navel. She wore nothing beneath the shirt, a discovery Mano would make if she sat. Running her fingers through her hair, she furrowed her brow and stared at him. He looked calm and collected. She felt completely less than calm and his posture annoyed her— in an exhilarating way. “Good morning.” She sat on the chair beside his, crossed her long legs and tapped her fingernails against the upholstery. “To what do I owe this visit?” He wore more clothes than she’d seen him wear before. Shorts, sandals and a brightly patterned short-sleeved buttondown shirt. If possible, he looked even sexier with clothes hugging his rugged contours. Lani felt herself grow moist as she waited for his answer. “I came to see how you’re feeling,” he said quietly. His voice was low and serious and although she had a pretty good 87

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idea what he referred to, she didn’t respond. “Are you…all right?” Nodding slowly, she said, “I am.” “I’m glad to hear that. Leilani, I have to tell you that I don’t usually act so…so…” “Horny?” He looked away. She regretted her flippant tone. Turning to face her, he said, “Rough. I was rougher with you than I should have been, and I’m sorry. I wanted you so badly, wanted you so completely I knew that if I took you in—well, in the usual manner—I’d lose control instantly. I was rough with you. I forced you to do things I suspect you may not have done had I given you more choice, Leilani. I am sorry.” Sorry? Standing, she turned and straddled his knees. Lowering herself so that she sat across his lap, she put her arms around his shoulders and searched his eyes for the answers she knew she wasn’t getting. “Are you sorry that we had sex? Because I’m not. I’m not a bit sorry that you and I had sex, Mano—regardless of how we had it. So, are you sorry?” Her shirt opened as she leaned forward, exposing her breasts. Shifting beneath her, he put his hands on her hips beneath the fabric that covered her. His eyes widened at the realization that the shirt was all she wore. “I’m not sorry, no. I only wish I had been able to be less excited. I would have taken more time to make love with you, Leilani. Much more time.” His cock hardened beneath her. She felt it, and loved it. 88

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Grinding her hot folds across his fly, she raised one breast to his lips. Trailing the tip of her nipple over his moistened lip, she said, “Sometimes, Mano, there isn’t time to go slow. Sometimes we need what we need when we need it.” He pulled her nipple between his lips and began to suckle, stroking her tender skin with his tongue. Shivers of anticipation shot thorough her and she squirmed on his lap. Her fingers found his zipper and pulled it down. His cock practically bounced out of his shorts. Lani wasted no time, positioning him before sliding down onto his erection. Smiling, she began to rotate her hips. “Sometimes it’s better not to wait,” she said, riding him like a woman possessed. “To think. To consider. To do things slow and…sweet. Sometimes it’s better to see something and just—” Lani’s eyes opened wide as her pussy tightened, the first surges of her climax ripping through her. Reaching between them, she slid her hand into his shorts and cupped his testicles. Taut and tight, they were poised for release. The first gentle squeeze against his scrotum made his eyes as wide as hers. “Now. Do it now.” Her moan was almost a scream, and she wildly bucked against Mano’s lap with unrestrained ardor. A sharp thrust upward that nearly toppled them from the chair accompanied the start of his release. For long, glorious moments they filled and were filled, and time stood still. When they were spent, they sat, gasping, until the blood stopped pounding in Lani’s head. Then, she rose. “Now we’re even.” Standing before him, their passion dribbling down her thigh, she looked deeply into his eyes and said, “Now I’ve taken you without giving you a chance to 89

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refuse. And I don’t feel sorry for having done it, either. Not one bit.” **** He found her in the outdoor shower. After she’d left him, his cock softening as he sat in the chair, she’d walked out of the house and down to the beach. Looking out at the ocean calmed her and when her heartbeat slowed, she returned. Leaving his clothing in a heap outside the wooden door, Mano stepped beneath the water’s spray behind her. Wordlessly she handed him the bar of soap. “I’m sorry—again,” he said quietly. His large hands worked her tense shoulder muscles expertly, coaxing the knotted flesh into softness as fragrant bubbles slid down her body. “But not for making love with you. Not for that at all. That I have dreamed of for a long time, Leilani. It’s something I needed. Wanted. It’s something I would do again if you will give me the chance. But this time, it will be different. I will be a tender lover. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? I’m not sorry I came to you, only that I came to you without restraint. I need you to understand this.” Turning to face him, she swept her hair out of her eyes. It was one of the first times they’d faced each other without their arousal to confuse them. Lani’s gaze swept downward, taking in the strong build and lingering on the thatch of curls at the top of his thighs. His penis dripped warm, clear water as she moved enough to allow the water to cascade down his body. “I think I do. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been so demanding in there. I should have been more considerate. Less angry. Forgive me, please. So much has happened lately. 90

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So many changes—some good, some bad, and some, like this place, are good coming from sadness. Do you understand?” “I do. I understand much, and I see you have many things before you to consider. There are decisions to be made, are there not? Decisions that will affect your life in many ways.” His speech, with its Hawaiian formality, was soothing to her ear, and her heart. “You’re right. I think the whole losing Uncle Ben heartache, coupled with leaving my life behind and wondering where I’m going to stay—or go—from here. I don’t know, I think it’s all making me more edgy than usual.” She pressed a hand to her temple. When she considered all of it, in one big heap like this, she got a headache. “I’m angry, too. I know it sounds childish to be angry when things change but it’s how I feel. Angry. I don’t know what I’m going to do, I have no one but myself to count on from here on out and I’m annoyed by that. Uncle Ben wasn’t a hands-on kind of guy but he was, at least, someone.” “You’ve got me. I’m not much but I’m a good listener.” Lani locked her gaze on his and felt a smile play around the edges of her mouth. “You’re something very special, Mano. More than I deserve, I think. I’m sorry I was so inconsiderate before. Such a bitch. Forgive me?” Running his hand along her collarbone, he nodded. “Of course. Perhaps we need to be gentler with each other from now on. At least until—” Mano bit his words off, snapping his jaw closed so quickly she nearly jumped. “Until what?” His answer was to kiss her. Slowly and softly on the lips he touched her, holding her with the firm caress of his mouth 91

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as she struggled to give voice to the question inside her head. It was something he didn’t allow. When he pulled his mouth from hers, he touched a finger to her lips, holding it there for a few heartbeats. With a strangled groan Mano pushed the wooden door open, grabbed his clothes and headed across the yard. As he left she saw he had a raging hard-on.

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Chapter 4 Work was, she knew, the answer to her swirling mind so she set her sights on going through the cupboards in the tiny kitchen. It didn’t take long. Uncle Ben was a confirmed bachelor and obviously, if his meager supply of pots, pans and dishes was to be believed, had very little use for the culinary arts. Lani took every item out of the cupboards, set it on the kitchen table and washed out the inside of the empty spaces. She didn’t know why she did it as she wasn’t yet sure she’d be staying in the house long enough for the cupboards to gather any new dust, but she did it anyway. At least it kept her busy. When she’d sorted everything and returned it all to some semblance of order, she closed the cupboard doors with a satisfying snap. The kitchen was tidy. The rest of the house was mostly as she’d found it, cluttered. Gradually becoming accustomed to living among the chaos, she had no desire to disturb any of it. The biggest clearing-out job she still had was dealing with her uncle’s desk. He’d kept a fairly well ordered office space in the living room but still there were personal papers to look through and discard. It was a job she didn’t feel up to tackling. Instead, she headed for the piano with its stacks of dogeared, worn sheet music. Sorting through the uppermost 93

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folders, she grinned. There wasn’t one stitch of anything even remotely modern among her uncle’s music collection. Selecting an old favorite, she positioned it on the rack and set her fingers above the keys. She hadn’t played in a while but a talent learned at an early age is rarely forgotten so she held her fingers poised as she’d been taught by Uncle Ben. Instinct claimed her hands and music filled the space around her. The piano had been kept perfectly tuned and even Lani’s first faltering notes sounded full and rich. By the time she reached the second movement the hesitation was gone from her playing. With her eyes closed, she played from memory. When the last notes faded into the still air, she sat and listened to the roar of the waves breaking on the sand for long minutes. His words didn’t startle her. Somehow, she knew he was there. “That’s beautiful, just lovely. It’s the same music that Peni used to play. I’ve missed it.” He walked into the room and stood beside the piano. Leaning his elbows on the polished surface he looked into her face with an intensity that stirred her as much as the music had. “He wrote it, didn’t he? I never asked but I noticed he didn’t need music to play it and when he played, he looked as you do now.” “How do I look?” “Connected. You look like you’re connected to something far outside this room, away from this house and this place. The expression on your face now is the same one I saw on your uncle’s face many, many times when he played this piece. Tell me, am I misunderstanding what I see? Am I wrong?” 94

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Lani shook her head. “No, you’re not wrong. In fact, you’re very much correct. Connected is exactly how I feel when I play the notes to this piece. My uncle did write it, you’re right about that, too. But I helped him. I was only seven at the time, but it’s something we co-wrote one summer while I was visiting him here. Right at this very piano, when my feet could barely touch the pedals, we wrote the song.” “That’s the connection, then. I always felt it. I wondered.” His face lit up at the discovery like a child’s on Christmas morning. His light touched Lani, warming her both inside and out. “I knew it was something special, something associated with this song and someone he loved dearly. I thought at first it was a woman. I had no idea it was you—he never told me.” Touching her fingers gently on the keys, Lani grinned. “I guess it just goes to show that even when you think you know someone, they may have a secret or two they keep hidden. Mostly, I think everyone keeps a piece to themselves. Evidently this connection, this song, was Uncle Ben’s little bit of mystery.” Mano’s eyes, so dark and deep, clouded momentarily and she wondered what he was thinking about. They cleared so quickly, though, she had no time to question him. And, she realized, even if she had the time, what would she ask? “You’re right, Leilani. Everyone keeps a part of themselves aside. Everyone needs a secret, a hidden touch of mystery. I think that sometimes the hidden is best kept concealed, out of sight of any other prying eyes.” A chill crossed her body. Lani’s nipples tightened, her throat constricted and a cold sweat covered her forehead. The feelings were neither pleasant nor easily dismissed. 95

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“Do you? Why?” Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, “Because when secrets are revealed there are often high prices to be paid. Very high and very dear.” “To what do I owe this afternoon visit?” Lani asked, standing. She smiled and walked through the room to the lanai, knowing he would follow. It was better to leave the piano, with its memories and secrets, behind. “I mean I’m always glad to see you. I just wondered if you have a specific thing in mind to discuss. I’m sure you can’t be here simply for the music. God knows I’m not nearly as proficient as Uncle Ben was.” They sat on a wicker glider and Lani pressed her toe against the floor. The seat swayed gently at first, picking up speed when Mano pressed his toe to the tiles. A small breeze caressed their bodies and for a few seconds they swayed without speaking. “Never compare yourself to someone else. You are your own person, like no other. Special and beautiful, and your piano playing could put others to shame. That is, if they were silly enough to compare themselves to you. Everyone is worthy in their own right. You are worthy, Leilani.” Lani’s breath hitched. How did he do it? Cut right to the heart of all her recent turmoil, address her biggest questions in a passing comment about piano playing? Worthy? Isn’t that what she had been asking herself for months in that plastic, unreal world she called home? God, why can’t I just stay here, where everything is simple, uncomplicated and exactly as it seems? Where I can look at something and see it as it actually is instead of how it wants me to see it. “I appreciate that. You’re very kind.” 96

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Mano covered her hand with his own, his large brown hand completely hiding her small fair one. He made no move to touch her further, no attempt to place his hand anywhere but over hers and she relaxed in his touch, enjoying the feel of his skin against her own. “I am honest, that is all. You asked if I came over for a reason. And actually, I did. I had a very good reason for coming to see you this afternoon.” “And that would be?” “Oh. I want to know whether or not you’ve been to Moaula Falls?” “Moaula Falls?” Lani furrowed her brows. The name sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it. “That’s right. To the pool. It’s beautiful and on such a warm day I thought it would be a pleasant way to pass the afternoon. We can walk there from here. What do you say?” Mano turned and smiled at her, pushing his foot hard on the floor. The glider swayed sharply and her body was tossed against his. Catching her with his muscular arms, he held her close as he stared down into her eyes. “So? Would you like to take a walk with me?” Lani’s crotch contracted as she inhaled the male scent of him. A mix of spices and wood, musk and sea breeze, it was intoxicating. “I do. Very much,” she said softly. Mano kissed her on the nose before he stood and pulled her to her feet. “Good. Let’s go.” **** The walk was a short one, winding through thick groves of lush greenery, low hanging trees and around moss-strewn rocks. Here and there chunks of black volcanic rock collected, 97

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as if they’d cracked and settled in place hundreds of years earlier. Lani bent and lifted one of the smaller pieces, turning it over in her hands and examining the tiny cracks and fissures and running her fingers over the smooth, glossy spots that were surrounded by the rough, bumpier bits of rock. “They’re amazing, aren’t they?” he asked, reaching out to touch the piece she held. “Hard to believe they’re made from a substance that the earth spit out, isn’t it?” “The whole subject of volcanoes is intriguing. But this, this is incredible. And there are so many of them, too, so many bits and pieces that it’s hard to believe that they were all once connected, flowing and liquid. And hot.” “Hotter than we can imagine.” “Exactly,” she said, placing the chunk back on the ground. She put it where she’d found it, in a tidy pile with a bunch of similar chunks. “What really intrigues me is the way they’re grouped.” Mano smiled, nodding his head. A thick lock of hair fell into his eyes and he swept it back, using a careless movement that made his biceps flex and Lani’s heart tilt. “You mean the piles.” “That’s right. I’ve been watching as we’ve been walking and they seem to have become grouped in neat little piles. It seems strange, don’t you think? That they’re all heaped up like that?” Waving at the mounds that surrounded them, Lani shrugged, holding her hands palms up. “Weird, I think,” she said, answering her questions long before he had a chance to do so. Throwing back his head, Mano laughed. The sound disturbed a gaily-colored parrot in the tree above them. It went 98

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squawking past their heads in a Technicolor flurry that brought a smile to Lani’s face, too. “And what’s so funny?” “You are. So many questions they’re all tumbling out of you as quickly as water falls over rocks near the waterfall. You’ve got so many questions that there’s no chance for a humble man like myself to answer them fast enough to satisfy your curiosity. You ask them, and then you answer them.” “And you think that’s funny?” “I do. I think it’s very amusing.” She studied the parrot. It had settled in a nearby tree and was pressing its elaborate feathers back into place. The routine seemed intricate yet the bird appeared to have all the time in the world to take care of it. There was no rushing, no frenzy, and no quick, jerky movements. It worked with slow, steady precision, getting its mission accomplished with a minimum of fuss. Taking a deep breath, Lani smiled and looked into Mano’s eyes. “So. What do you think about the piles of volcanic rocks? Know anything about them?” His face became serious as he stared down at the nearest pile. For a long while he was silent, as if weighing and measuring his words. “I do, actually,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. There was something hidden in his eyes, something she couldn’t decipher yet she saw. Clearly. “I don’t know whether or not your uncle ever told you this, I guess it’s not something that people take the time to discuss much. I mean, there are so many beautiful things here, so much evidence of hemolele—” “Hemolele?” 99

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“Oh, sorry. Perfection. Hemolele is the Hawaiian word for perfection. Anyway, there is such a multitude of things evidencing the perfection of Molokai that few go out of their way to talk about the other. The imperfect.” Mano paused, obviously struggling for words. His brow furrowed, his fists clenched, then opened, as if he had made a concerted effort to relax his thick fingers. “There was at one time a fairly large leper colony here on this island. It wasn’t a time when illness was widely understood, especially one so contagious and ugly. The first people sent here because of their illness were thrown from boats just past the breakers. They swam ashore—or drowned. Supplies were tossed overboard, too, and they had to swim to them and pull the kegs and crates back to the island by hand. It was…it was difficult for them.” “How horrible!” “Yes, humans can be horrible to each other, can’t they? A priest came and set up a mission church, a small community and conditions improved. The leper colony wasn’t as awful a place as most imagined, not after the Father came, that is. Unfortunately he grew ill and eventually passed on but he gave the people hope. Eventually medicine progressed and most were treated and given the option of returning to the world. Some did. Some didn’t.” His feet began to move and they walked slowly, side by side, along the sandy trail. “So they’re all gone now? The lepers?” Mano looked down at her and grinned. “No, some still live in what’s left of the original village. It’s on the other side of the island. It’s a beautiful spot and the small community is like any other, except they suffer from leprosy. Islanders are tolerant and intelligent about the community and they live in peace. Here, everyone lives in peace.” 100

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Spreading his arms wide, he lifted his face to the sun and smiled. Lani couldn’t help but notice his shoulders, so broad and strong, his wide chest and his tapered waist. Her body reacted to his openness, to his nearness. She grew moist. Within her chest her heart fluttered and she inhaled deeply, hoping to quiet the thudding that was making it hard for her to catch her breath. “So I still don’t understand. How does a leper colony tie in with volcanic rocks? Am I missing something?” Pulling her against his side, he shook his head. “No. I haven’t explained it properly. You see, the children living at the leper colony, young lepers, had nothing much to do during the long, hot days. Many of them made a game out of gathering and piling the rocks. And they have just stayed the way the children piled them, in small bunches along the trail. The islanders accept the piled stones as part of their heritage, part of the history of the island itself. They are like the birds, the trees, the volcanoes that produced them. They are part of our island, part of us.” It was no wonder Uncle Ben was happy on the island. The place, the people—so peaceful, accepting. They pull you in and hold you close. **** Moaula Falls was beautiful, a small waterfall nestled in the jungle. Secluded, with a ring of greenery surrounding it, the music of falling water obscured all but the sound of parrots and chirping tropical birds. At the base of the falls there was a small, clear pool. They rested on the mossy ground beside the pool, lying back in the sun’s dappled rays, content to spend long mo101

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ments without speaking. Finally Mano turned to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Would you like to go swimming?” “I wouldn’t mind. The water looks wonderfully inviting, don’t you think?” He stood, unbuttoning his shorts and dropping them around his ankles. Beneath them he wore a pair of hibiscus patterned swim trunks. He pulled his shirt off and dropped it on top of his shorts. Lani followed his lead, stripping to the modest white bikini she’d worn under her own clothes. She dropped her garments on his. As she put her toe in the pool, preparing to jump into the water, Mano grabbed her arm and pulled her back from the edge. “No! You don’t want to do that.” A look of terror washed over his face. “Not that way!” “I thought we were going swimming?” Lani’s heart tripped but this time it wasn’t because of the handsome Hawaiian who held her closely. His tone, his touch had startled her. “What’s the problem?” He wiped one palm across his forehead as if to soothe himself and wipe away the sheen of perspiration that touched him there. Taking a deep breath, Mano shook his head and spoke slowly. “You don’t know, do you?” “Know what?” “About the legend.” “Another legend? Honestly, it seems as if there’s no end to the legends, myths, stories and other assorted tales associated with this island. Still another legend? You expect me to 102

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believe one more? Is this some sort of weird game you islanders play with us mainlanders? Are you trying to see how far you can push us before you drive us insane?” Putting her hands on her hips, she smiled up at him and tilted her head to the side. Had she known how alluring a pose it was she may not have done it but she didn’t—so she did. Tapping her bare toe against the greenery, she lifted an eyebrow and waited. “Well? Don’t you have any answers?” A slow smile spread over his tanned face. His teeth sparkled as he grinned. “Oh, I’ve got answers all right. They just might not be for the questions you’ve asked. And I’ve got some questions of my own, as well, but I’m in no position right now to ask them so I’ll keep them to myself. But I assure you, Leilani, you make many things difficult for me. Very difficult.” Ask them, please ask them. I want to know what it is you’re keeping from me. I know it’s something but I can’t figure out what it is. As your questions, Mano. Don’t keep them to yourself, please. Before she could say the words, though, he changed the subject. As in moments past, once the topic changed between them there didn’t seem to be any way to recall it so Lani let it fall. She wished that she had been faster, that there had been no delay between her mind, heart and mouth. But there had been and there was no fix for it now. “So, about the legend,” Mano began, his voice low and thick and blending harmoniously with the sound of splashing water. Listening to him, she forgot the questions that whirled through her mind. “It is said that a fierce lizard, a meantempered, nasty, little, blue lizard lives in a cavern hidden deep within the pond beneath Moaula Falls. This lizard is at times accommodating and at other times…well, he is a less103

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than-gracious host. As it has always been and as it will continue to be, the wise know enough to test the lizard before attempting to swim in his pool.” Mano folded his arms across his chest and grinned. When she looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses, he laughed. Again the parrot was disturbed but they paid it little attention as it flapped through the palm fronds. “Test the lizard? You’ve got to be pulling my leg.” “You know I’d love to pull any bits of you, Leilani. But the leg—well, that is not where I’d begin. No, I am not trying to tease you. This story about the lizard is something islanders have known forever. But if you’d like to swim without testing the lizard,” he said, shaking his head and looking doubtful. “Go right ahead. Me? I’ll stand here and watch.” She peeked into the clear water, looking for a sign of movement. There wasn’t any save the ripples brought by the falls but still, one never could tell what might lurk in the depths. “How do you test the lizard?” Mano walked to the nearest palm tree and broke off a bit of a leaf. He placed it in the pond and they watched it float across the surface of the water. After a few minutes he said, “It’s safe.” She waited for the splash from his body to subside before she called to him. “How do you know it’s safe?” Wiping his wet hair back from his forehead, Mano grinned as he said, “The leaf floated. If it sinks it means the lizard is in a foul mood. If it floats? It’s a good day for swimming. It floated. Now, are you coming in or not? The water’s nice and cool.” 104

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Lani watched him swim to the far side with smooth, even strokes before she followed his lead and jumped into the pool. He was right. The water was cool and she felt her body temperature drop instantly. They swam in silence for a long time before they headed for the concealed part of the pool. Behind the screen of falling water, they pulled their wet bodies up onto a slick stone that lay half buried in the pond. Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, Mano kissed her. His lips pressed tenderly against her, licking the wetness from her skin as she opened her mouth to him. Eagerly she pulled his tongue into her, sucking and touching with no thought to possible discovery. It seemed as if the pool existed only for them. Even the lizard was forgotten as Lani’s sex began to tremble. It was like magic. Something magical had grabbed Leilani, captured her heart and soul. She didn’t know if it was the place, the house, the ocean or the man. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it felt divine. He pushed aside the fabric at her crotch and plunged his fingers into her pussy. In the short time they’d been together they’d grown close—closer than sex warranted, even. The erotic fire burned between them, undoubtedly. But there was something else, too. Something deeper. Something that was perhaps more binding than intercourse itself. “You match your name. The way you feel, it matches perfectly,” Mano said, nipping at her earlobe as he massaged her slippery clit. The cool water against her hot skin sent her climax slamming through her, and she clutched his shoulders for support as her body thrashed against his. “Heavenly...yes, you are heavenly. Your name fits you well.” He whispered as the final shudders swept through her. 105

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Heavenly? That was the translation for her name but Lani felt devilish at the moment. Devilish and in need of his cock— buried inside her. They pushed the waistband of his suit down, rolling it across his backside in a less-than-sexy set of moves that made them laugh. His large penis was an impediment to easy removal of the suit and in the end he stood and tugged it down to his ankles before stepping out of it. “That’s better,” he said, sinking to his knees on the wide, wet stone. “Now you have too many clothes on.” As her bikini bottom landed in a wet splash beside her, Lani spread her legs and let the water lap at her pussy. A shiver rushed through her when he pushed aside the fabric covering her right breast. His mouth was warm as he sucked her hard nipple between his lips, running his tongue across her tingling flesh. With a small cry, she pulled her thighs closed and let her head fall back, allowing herself to experience each and every wave of pleasure without any other intrusion. “My turn,” she said, her voice hoarse. Pushing him away, she sat and coaxed him to his knees. He was fully aroused and she leaned forward slightly, sliding her lips over his coral cap and down his thick shaft. Mano reached his hands to the sky, a movement that was so unexpected she stopped moving her mouth and lifted her gaze. With his cock between her lips, Lani watched the strong man spread his fingers to the water where it fell above them and dip them into the back side of the falls. Then he cupped his hands, filled them and brought the water to his face, letting it fall in a cool splash over his tanned skin. As she watched the water fall from his face onto his chest, some of it dripping onto her where she was attached to him, 106

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she wondered if what she saw and felt falling was pure water from the waterfall—or was it water mixed with something else? Tears, perhaps? Mano shook as he looked down at her and for an instant she was certain her instincts were true and that he had been moved to tears. But when he pulled his hips back, taking his hard-on from her and laying her back on the stone, the thought vanished from her mind. All she could think of as he lay on his back beside her and lifted her so that she covered him were the sensations filling her. Straddling his wide hips, Lani rose up until the tip of his cock was positioned at her slick opening. Then she thrust herself onto him and rode him—hard. Mano’s penis was so large and thick that every stroke touched her swollen clit and within a few well-placed thrusts she was in the throes of her third climax, her pussy clenching convulsively on him as he pressed his hips higher, pushing himself into her completely. “Now—it is for you, all for you,” Mano moaned as his penis flooded her soft folds. All for me?

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Chapter 5 The gull swooped low over the water, so low that its wings nearly touched the surface. She thought it might poke its bill into the ocean but it didn’t. Instead, it came whisper close before pulling up and flying high. The crimson sky looked hot enough to incinerate the bird but it flew fearlessly out of her sight. So close to the water, looking like it was close enough to the sun to burn, yet still not close enough to make contact. That was the way she felt about the beautiful man who had come into her life. There was something wonderful, free and daring about Mano. He came close enough to take her breath away then he pulled back. Every time. Even with his cock inside Lani’s body, he kept his secrets. She knew he had at least one. A big one. And it was a secret she was almost frightened to discover the truth about. The sun was rising, touching everything with its orange glow. It was a touch that brought heat instantly and she let her uncle’s old sweater fall from her shoulders. Lifting her face to the glow, she forced her mind to still. There was a puzzle to be solved, one she’d been struggling with for days. And there was a job to be done, too. It was one she’d been putting off since she’d arrived. Lani had known, though, that today was 108

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the perfect day to fulfill a promise the moment she opened her eyes. She hoped it was a day for solving puzzles, too. The sand surrounding her was beginning to warm when she heard his voice. “You’re awake early today.” A chill went up her spine and she lifted the sweater, wrapping it tightly around her body. “I wanted to see the sun rise.” Folding his legs, Mano sank to the sand beside her. He sat cross-legged and looked toward the golden orb. It no longer touched the horizon but was rising in the sky. “This is one of my favorite times of the day, too.” Lifting a handful of sand, he let the grains sift through his fingers as he spoke. “I watch the sun come up, I watch it go down. The never-ending rhythm of the island is one of the things that make this journey, this path we take, so meaningful. And so predictable. And predictable can be good, I think.” Lani heard the friendly, conversational tone but she didn’t feel much like being friendly. Perversely, she felt annoyed at his Zen-like assessment. How dare he be so content when she had so many tangled thoughts? “What do you think?” His voice washed over her in a warm wave that could have brought them closer. Instead of chasing away the chill it only made her clutch the soft fabric closer against her breasts. When she didn’t answer he lowered his head until his eyes met hers. Furrowing his brow, he asked, “Leilani? Why are you so quiet? Is something wrong?” The corner of her mouth lifted, giving him a blatantly mocking half-grin. “Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?” 109

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The lines deepening on his forehead clearly told of his confusion at her sarcasm. “I know there’s something going on here that I don’t understand. Something’s brewing in your mind, building up pressure just as steadily as the steam inside a volcano. I know, I’ve lived with volcanoes all my life. I recognize the steam rising, so why don’t you just tell me what the problem is? Maybe we can solve it, make you less tense— before the eruption.” She turned her head toward the tidal line. Watching the ebb and flow of the water as it sucked at the golden flecks of sand didn’t calm her the way it typically did. “Or you can just wait for the eruption. I’d think with all your prior experience you’d know just what to do when the big blow comes.” It didn’t matter that she knew she was being irrational or unreasonable. People have limits for what they can comfortably tolerate—Lani had found some of her personal limits with the rising sun. Rational? Reasonable? Those traits had been burned off with the haze. “I’d rather not see the big blow.” He sounded hurt and confused and it annoyed her further. Every word that wasn’t an explanation—regardless of the fact she hadn’t asked him to explain anything—pissed her off. “I’d rather you simply tell me what’s on your mind. We’re wasting precious time talking in riddles.” She turned to him with a growl. “You want to know what’s on my mind? Fine. I’ll tell you. I’ve got questions— lots of them—on my mind. I want to know who the hell you really are. I want to what you’re doing here—besides having sex with me, that is. Who are you? Where did you come from? Why are you so damn secretive? I know nothing about you, nothing! Besides how you moan when you climax, or the 110

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way your cock feels inside me. Anything else? I don’t have a clue. Why?” Mano turned his face toward the ocean. A muscle clenched in his jaw, a movement that she’d found stimulating in the past but one that now inflamed her. She knew he was stalling, preparing to avoid her questions. Because, truly, if he’d wanted her to have the answers to them he’d have provided them earlier. And willingly. “Are those things important? Really important?” She didn’t hesitate. “Of course they are.” Swallowing, he turned and looked deeply into her eyes. His emotions swirled just beneath the surface of the deep brown eyes as they had on other occasions when she’d tried to talk with him. She could see his feelings of regret and sadness as plainly as she’d watched the sun’s rays but she wouldn’t let herself be affected by them. She couldn’t back down now that she’d given voice to the questions she’d been mulling over. “Don’t you know me already? Who I am? What kind of man I am—here, where it really counts? Don’t you know in your heart?” Lani watched him spread his strong, wide hand across his chest. He covered his heart. It was all she could do not to cover his hand with her own. “I need to know more.” Clenching her fingers on the sweater, she trembled as she spoke. “My heart may know certain things but my mind—it needs to know more.” He let his hand drop. “It’s not enough for your heart to know?” She shook her head as a tear slid down her cheek. Without a word, he rose and walked away. She didn’t watch him leave. 111

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We’re good at this—you walking away from me. This, I think, will be the last time you do it, Mano. It will be the last time I give you that chance. Lifting her hand to wipe away the tear, she believed the vows she silently made, believed that she would never again give him the chance to hurt her the way he was hurting her now. She would never sit and watch him walk away—these things she believed with all her heart. But sometimes the heart can be wrong. And sometimes beliefs can change. **** The sun was falling in the sky, sending streaks of violet and red across the blue, as she patted the sand in place. An orchid, blooming pink and white, marked the spot in the flowerbed where she’d dug. Sitting back on her heels, Lani stared at the green leaves, the bobbing blossoms and felt joy instead of sadness. She’d done what she’d promised to do. She’d returned him to the place he’d loved. Uncle Ben, you’re home. I promised I would bring you home and I’ve done that. I promised I would come here and set everything in order and I’ve done that, too. I promised these things long ago, long before I knew how it feels to fall in love with a man—a man like Mano. Did you bring me here to fall in love with him? And now what should I do, now that I do love him? Why didn’t you make me promise something about that, too? I need you. I need your calm voice, your soft brown eyes that saw inside me to discover things I couldn’t see myself. I need you to help me with this, but you’re not here. Alone. I’m more alone now than I’ve ever been before in my life and for the first time I’m realizing it, too. 112

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Answers. I need answers. And if I can’t get them from you, or from someone else, I’ll just have to find them for myself. As usual, the large man appeared beside her without warning. She felt, rather than saw, him fold his long legs to sit beside her. They sat without speaking until she inserted a pink ceramic cross into the sand beside the orchid. “It is Peni? You have brought him home?” His voice was low and steady, as strong and sure as the island that cradled them. He was the same, yet he was different, too. Lani didn’t know how she knew it but she felt the change in him. “Yes. I promised him a long time ago that I’d do this.” A tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away. “It was what he wanted. He was attached to this place.” Mano didn’t speak right away and she was glad. It gave her time to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath before she turned to face him. When their eyes met she saw he had been watching her. “Many are that way.” A lock of hair, thick and black, fell across his brow but she didn’t push it back. She knew that if she touched him she might lose the battle she fought, the skirmish that was being waged between her heart and her head. “I am one of those, Leilani. One of those tied to a place. I am one who can never leave.” His voice thickened as he spoke and for an instant she wondered if he was going to need to brush away a tear. He hesitated, swallowing hard. “I have to tell you something.” “I know.” Her voice came in a whisper. A chill swept up her spine and she shivered. There was no sweater to pull close, nothing to wrap around her, so she shook, letting the goose bumps rise on her arms and legs. 113

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“It is not easy, what I have to say. It will, I think, end what we have together. I will be sorry to lose you, lose what we’ve shared, but I know it is right for you to hear the truth.” The expression in Mano’s eyes grew more tortured with every word spoken. His gaze fell to the orchid and its delicate cross, lingering there for an instant before rising to hers again. “Are you sure you want to know what I am going to say? Be certain, Leilani, because once I say the words I cannot recall them.” Her heart thudded in her chest, so loud to her own ears she thought he must certainly be able to hear it. “I am sure.” His words were simple and direct, spoken quietly and slowly. They gave no opening for questions, misunderstanding or misinterpretation. “I am lapu. Ghost. Phantom. I am a spirit walking among the living, bound to the place where I lived, loved and died. I came here with the first lepers, was thrown from a wooden vessel and swam ashore. I piled the stones you touched. I first touched them long, long ago.” Standing, he stared down at her with a gaze that was heartbreaking in its openness, filled with love and dismay and a multitude of things there was no naming. With an anguished groan, Mano turned and walked away. As she watched him leave, Lani made no attempt to wipe the tears from her face, gave no voice to her emotions and didn’t run after him. Instead, she watched. Lani knew she and Mano could never be separated. Not by life. Not by death.

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Sighing, she rose, dusted the sand off her knees and walked toward the ocean. It, like everything else on Molokai, beckoned her.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR Rusty Wicks lives in a little cottage near the beach in Maine. When she’s not busy writing she reads, walks the beach searching for seashells and driftwood and takes Chinese language lessons. She spends the rest of her time with a special man who makes her heart thud, even after more years than she’s willing to admit. Rusty believes in love…and she wants you to believe in it, too. Check out her blog, Rusty’s Ramblings, at http://rustywicks.blogspot.com/ Rusty loves to hear from fans. Drop her a line at [email protected]

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