Paradise Tempted: The Beginning (Paradise Stories) (3 page)

I sat back abruptly and the pamphlet fell to the ground. I certainly wasn't planning a honeymoon, least of all with a man who I was convinced did not remember last night. A man I'd only met last night. This trip was why I worked each weekend, giving up the traditional college life. I was saving every dollar for a semester abroad, even if it disrupted my medical studies.

"About last night?" He spoke as if he read my mind.

"Oh please," I cut him off. "You don't remember and it's fine. Nothing happened, really."

I hoped the tone of my voice didn't give away the untruthfulness of my words. It wasn't fine.

It wasn't all right that the proposal sounded so real. It wasn't okay that the kiss he gave me after I said yes seemed genuine. It wasn't fine that the ring was gently used and purchased from a recently abused marriage. It wasn't good that I went back to his room with him.

It was better than good; that was the problem. He'd kissed me like his life depended on me. Like my lips could give him salvation, and my breath could gift him immortality. It was a kiss I'd never known and was sure I would never experience again: aggressive yet appetizing, assertive and restrained, demanding and submissive. He gave way to my innocence; I desired his experience.

"I'm too drunk. Don't let me take advantage of you," he pleaded last night. "But don't leave me," he whispered before he took my mouth again. His large hands skimmed my body in a torturous tease that left me wet, pulsing, and unfulfilled. He'd stripped both our shirts, claiming he just wanted to feel skin to skin contact. As he peeled my t-shirt over my head, he groaned at the red bra beneath, saying I was the apple of temptation and he wanted to eat me whole. I almost burst forth from his words, but it was an empty promise at the time.

He maneuvered us to the bed where we fell together; our lips never breaking contact. At some point, I'd shimmied out of my skirt and he'd removed his jeans. His hands went no further than the removal of my clothes as he continued to kiss me. At times, I thought he'd swallow me whole. He massaged my lips like he couldn't get enough of the feast. He caressed my tongue like he had been thirsty for days.

When he finally tired, and I thought he was ready for dessert, he moved to my neck, then my jaw. He kissed my throat and licked between my collarbones.

"I need to rest, Sofie. Can you be my salvation?" The word
rest
sounded like
confess
, but I knew I must be mistaken in my interpretation. He laid his head on my chest, turned briefly to kiss over my heart then settled his large arms over me and passed out.

I couldn't sleep. He was too warm and I was too worked up. At some point, I was able to roll him off me. We were on top of the covers and I needed to get him under them. I had the strangest desire to tuck him in. I'd returned my t-shirt to cover my body and moved the hulking man, as best I could. He snorted and rolled, and it gave me the leverage I needed to pull down the sheets and cover his body. He said my name.

I crawled back on the bed and wrapped my arms around him. He seemed like he needed comfort and my instinct was to protect him, regardless of my small frame. He rolled on his side, taking my arm with him and I pressed into his back. I missed the skin to skin contact. I wished I was under the security of the blanket, curling into each edge of him, but I believed it safer to remain above the comforter. I couldn't get too comfortable. It was only make-believe.

I kissed the back of his neck and he made a noise that sounded like a whimper. I didn't think this big man could be afraid of anything, though. His very stature commanded submission. I had given in to a complete stranger, I might add, and yet I did not fear him. His breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and I matched my own to his. Each rise tightened my hold on him. Each release, relaxed me into him. Slowly, I fell asleep.

When I awoke, his dark eyes paralyzed me. I felt hypnotized by the darkness that stared me down, until he spoke. His voice was cold. His words were harsh. He didn't remember, or he hadn't interpreted the night the same as me. Either way, I was left feeling spoiled and torn open to rot in my own guilt.

I didn't think she'd continue to play along. When I responded about the honeymoon, something passed across her face. She didn't trust me. Why would she trust me? I didn't remember the night before. I'd broken a man, which was even worse. I was a person that shouldn't be trusted.

But then there was the kiss from minutes ago, and it sparked a memory from the night before. I had definitely kissed her. I only needed the trigger to remind me. Her taste was undeniable. She would be a flavor I’d recognize anywhere: sweet, inexperienced, but willing. Very willing. I didn’t exactly remember the night before, and I worried again that I’d hurt her somehow. She didn’t seem physically bruised or damaged; at least not in places I could see.

“I need to take my grandfather his lunch,” she said. She’d pulled away from me, and I realized she wasn’t willing to continue along with me.

“I need to shower,” I replied.

She stood. The motion so rapid it was as if she built a wall to keep me out; a privacy fence to keep her inside.

“We could go together.” My voice almost cracked on the words, and I swallowed my desperation to not be separated from her.

“You said you had to shower?”

“We could shower together.”

She softly snorted then screwed up her face to hold in a giggle.

“No, we can’t.”

“We’re married now,” I smiled slowly and raised an eyebrow, trying to get her to play along.

“It was all pretend,” she said quietly and I saw her face fall. She began to gather up her books, piling them roughly one on top of another.

I placed my hand on the pile to stop her motion.

“We could pretend a little longer.” It was more a question, than a statement but I was almost demanding it. I needed more time with her. I wasn’t down to days, but hours. Hours before the wrath of my disappearance would rain down on me from my father. I wasn’t a begging man, but I was ready to drop to my knees and plead with her.

Her face was thoughtful as she looked directly into my eyes. In that firm tone I recognized her to use, trying to be stern, she replied, “You don’t have time for a shower.”

I removed my hands from her books as she picked up the pile. Without thinking, I reached for them like an old-fashioned school boy carrying books home for a girl he had a crush on. She opened a backpack and I slid the heavy stack inside, then took the bag from her and slipped it up over my shoulder. I followed her gentle sway as she led me through the kitchen and grabbed two prepared brown bags from the industrial refrigerator. We walked in silence until we came upon a golf cart behind the villa. She sat down in the driver’s seat.

“What’s this?” I questioned.

“This is how I take lunch to my grandfather. He’s in the vineyards and it’s faster than walking.”

I laughed as I tossed her books in the back hatch.

“Are you legal to drive this thing?”

“I’m perfectly legal for many things,” she responded and she looked at me over the rim of her glasses. I felt those words hard in a place that returned to life. My track pants did nothing to disguise my desire, and her eyes slipped below my waistband for a moment. She swallowed hard and immediately looked away. The slow blush of pink crawled up her neck and cheeks, and I wanted to trace the starting line then capture the finish with my mouth on that peachy skin. My concentration on her was broken as the cart moved with a jolt. We crept forward, heading down a dusty trail that led deep into the lush green vineyards.

We were silent as the cart bumped and jostled over uneven ground. Vines zoomed past us as we sped down the long lane. She suddenly turned at the end of a row and before us was a small fenced in bush. Outside the wrought iron sat an aged man. Skin worn by sunshine, hair white as cotton, small trim beard to match, and the deepest dark eyes I’d ever seen. He smiled like sunshine when he saw Sofie, and then he looked at me.

I saw the flinch in his cheek bones and the twitch of the wrinkles by his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he recognized me, but as keeper of the inn, he was most likely fully aware of whom I was as a guest. He didn’t falter in his smile, despite the hard press to keep it firm. He kissed Sofie on each cheek, shaky hands cupping her upper arms before his eyes shifted to me again.

“I brought you lunch, Papa,” she spoke brightly and his gaze returned to her.

“Sit,” he said, pointing to a small wooden folding chair and a small round table. She looked over her shoulder at me, then back at the elder man.

“I can’t today, Papa.  Too much school work.” She smiled at him and he nodded once.

“May I introduce my new friend, one of our guests? Cain…” she paused. She didn’t know my last name. How had we gotten married without exchanging last names? I reminded myself that the foggy memory of one of the divorcee women standing like a centurion, reading off wedding vows, was all part of our façade.

“Cain Callahan, sir,” I said, extending a thick hand. I wouldn’t have guessed it, but the strength in his return shake told me everything. If I messed with the girl, if I broke her, he’d kill me, regardless of his age. I wasn’t a man to easily cower. My first response was to laugh and blow off his threat, until I slowly decided he was quite serious. He had the power to destroy me.

“I’m going to take Cain on a tour,” she spoke and the older gentleman released my hand. He nodded again, spoke to her in some language I did not recognize, and ended with a soft
bella.

She smiled, glanced over at me again, then turned back to her grandfather. Kissing each of his cheeks this time, she turned to walk away from him. I had no choice, but to follow her.

I didn’t know why I let him tag along. I asked the cook to make me a simple lunch. I planned to escape to my favorite place on the property; a hidden river ran on the very edge of our land. I had hoped to spend some time drowning in cool water, fresh air, and more reading of the human anatomy. When we returned to the cart, I was ready to take him back to the villa, but the look in his dark eyes, while hard and cold, spoke to me. He didn’t seem like he could be left alone with himself.

I turned the key and didn’t even ask him if he wanted to join me. I simply drove to my private paradise. A small collection of trees secluded the area. The strange clump, that seemed to have grown up out of nowhere, made for a peaceful reprieve from the straight lines of the vineyard and the heat of the Napa Valley sunshine.

“What’s this?” he asked when I stopped abruptly.

“Eden,” I mumbled as I exited my side of the cart and reached in the back for the brown sack and my backpack.  He followed me and I spread the double sized sheet I had rolled in the bottom of my bag.

“A picnic?” he questioned. His eyes watched me flip the sheet in the air one final time before kicking off my flip flops and kneeling on it.

“Lunch,” I said. “I can share.” I pulled from the bag clumps of grapes, a baguette sandwich cut in half, and a glass bottle of water. Cain lay on his side and stared at me, as I worked to break the grapes apart and placed half the sandwich before him.

“You fed me last night,” he stated.

“Well, a sandwich is all I can cook,” I said, shrugging my shoulder.

“It was the best feast I’ve had in a long time.” He bit heartily into the bread and pulled roughly to break the hard dough. My mouth watered as I watched him use his mouth, and I wondered, for the hundredth time, what his lips could do to me. What his teeth might feel like if they tasted the ache in my breasts. How his tongue might thrill me if it lapped over my nipples. A heavy beat took over my very core and throbbed hard inside my jeans. I wanted this man like I’d wanted no other, and it was foolish.

“More studying of the human anatomy?” he said with a grin, as he caught me eying his jaw. I’d kissed those hard edges last night while he softly kissed mine. My tongue grew heavy and dry with the desire to roll over the sharp stubble that crossed his chin. He was razor edged, and he would sting, but my God, I wanted to feel the prick. His smile deepened on one side as I continued to stare, ensnared by his cutting good looks. A slight dimple arose in the corner of his mouth and he licked his lips. My mouth fell open and his smile grew. The snake knew what he was doing to me.