by L. L. James
Marek remained quiet for a moment, a look of contemplation on his face. She skimmed her eyes over his torso and waited for him to speak. “You have a tattoo.” She said before she realized it.
Eyes locked on his lower abdomen, she couldn’t take her gaze from the exotic art. She could only see part of it from the way he sat cross-legged with the white linen sheet pooled at his waist. Intrigued, she stepped closer to get a better look.
Marek must have understood her need to change the subject because he grinned wickedly at her and leaned back on his arms to give her a better view. “And you, Carm, have a sexy little birthmark on the inside of your left thigh right where it meets your ass.”
Carm whipped her eyes to his face and sputtered. Before she could speak, he laughed, “I don’t know how I know that, sugar. So don’t ask. And don’t get all offended, either. We’re both in this mess together.”
He was right. Damned if he wasn’t.
Carm glanced back down at the image half hidden by the sheet and asked, “What is it?”
Marek motioned her closer. “Why don’t you pull the sheet back and look for yourself.”
Hesitating, she held her hand suspended in mid-air. Realizing he was testing her, she clutched her sheet tight around her with her other hand and reached for the linen obscuring the tattoo and slowly tugged it down.
Holding her breath, she revealed the expanse of golden skin on his lower abdomen. The tattoo was placed in a very risqué spot, directly below his bellybutton and just above his pubic hair line.
Before she could chicken out, she ripped the sheet away to reveal the rest of the tattoo. A trio of blue dolphins arching in a circle stared back at her.
“It’s dolphins.” She whispered lamely.
Marek snorted, “What’d you expect? A butterfly?”
Carm’s pulse beat heavy and strong with arousal as she gazed at the skin just above Marek’s privates. A hint of dark springy curls peaked out from the confines of the sheet, begging for her attention. Staring hard at the ring of dolphins, she steadfastly ignored the tempting thatch. Or at least she tried to.
Instead of giving in to the increasing urge to skim her fingers over the patch of hair, she released the sheet and traced her fingers around the circle tattoo. She watched with fascination as the hard planes of Marek’s stomach trembled from her touch, and delighted in his sharp intake of breath.
Lifting her eyes to meet his, she froze at the look of intensity on his face. His pale green eyes burned into hers unflinching. Snatching her hand back, she closed her fingers into a fist to keep from touching him again and broke eye contact.
Coward.
“Ah, that’s what’s what I thought.”
She frowned at Marek’s softly accusing words. What did he mean by that? Choosing to put some distance between them before her curiosity about his anatomy got the better of her, Carm turned away. Walking over to the window, she stared blankly outside at the perfect day. Not a single cloud marred the crystal blue sky.
Her stomach trembled with uncertainty and fear, and she needed a moment to sift through her options. With her back to him, she asked, “Why dolphins, Marek?”
Fabric rustled as she heard him slip out of bed behind her. “I take it we’re not going to discuss us right now, are we?” His voice was low, intimate. “If that’s the way you want to play it, fine. Why the dolphins, you ask? They’re very important to us islanders, cheri. Many legends abound down here with tales of their heroic deeds. Dolphins are known as protectors. When I was sixteen I figured I needed all the protection I could get.”
Without looking at him, she replied, “What was happening when you were sixteen that you needed such protection?”
She could hear him sifting through the mess of clothing on the floor. Pulling on his pants, he finally responded, “Nothing you need to be concerned with now. What you should be thinking about is how to remedy the fix we’re in. I’ve some ideas I want to check into. One of the inn’s staff delivered that basket to us so I’m going to head down and see if they know anything.”
Raking a hand through her hair, Carm bit her lip and turned to face Marek. While her back had been to him he’d dressed and now wore the clothing she’d first seen him in outside her window yesterday. For a musician he certainly dressed well.
Wait a minute. . .
“Marek, don’t you work here at the inn? Isn’t that why I saw you here yesterday? You’re not just a club musician, are you?”
He shrugged his muscular shoulders and lifted his lips in a mocking half smile. “And if I was just a club musician? Does that make me less of a man?”
Carm let out a growl of irritation, “That’s not what I meant. I just thought that if you worked here then someone would definitely remember you coming in with me last night, that’s all.”
With his eyes lingering on her, Marek buttoned his shirt in silence. She had no idea what was going on behind those icy moss eyes of his. The man was a professional at hiding his emotions.
Uncomfortable under his close scrutiny and feeling that it was not completely deserved, Carm closed her eyes and began counting to ten. She had to get herself out of this mess and away from him, she had a meeting to attend.
Oh no.
The meeting.
Muttering an oath, she looked around frantically for a clock. Pushing her way past Marek, she glanced at the bedside table on the far side of the bed. No luck.
“What? What is it Carmen?”
Stopping directly in front of him, she tilted her head back and looked him in the eye. “I need to know what time it is. Do you have a watch?”
“Why, you have a hot date?”
“No, you big jerk. I have a very important meeting at two. I can’t miss it. As much as I’d love to stay here and fret over this fiasco, I can’t. I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. So, do you have a watch or am I going to have to go searching for one?”
Marek lowered his head until his lips were mere inches from hers and stopped. Her heart leapt into her throat at his nearness and she swallowed hard. The man was potent as all get out.
“Just so happens I do have a watch, cupcake.”
Shifting her eyes to his wrist, she let out a low whistle at the shiny timepiece. No way would a hotel employee/musician be able to afford a Submariner Rolex.
Who was this man she’d married?
“The time is currently 11:55 a.m., Carmen. You’ve got plenty of time to make your appointment. But now that you mention it, I have a previous engagement as well. One I too can’t miss.”
Carm beamed a smile. “Great. Wonderful. Well then, why don’t you go do your thing and I’ll do mine. We can meet back here at say, six o’clock? That should give us plenty of time to remember last night and to figure a way out of this.”
She waited, her heart hammering, for Marek to agree. She couldn’t miss her meeting. Kate would kill her. Her own personal crisis would just have to wait. Kate was relying on her. She had to get her crap together and suck it up for her sister’s sake, no matter how shaken she might feel at the moment.
He reached out and swept a hand over her hair in a soft caress and she shivered at the intimate touch. Before temptation could rear its ugly head again, she stepped away from his magnetic presence.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Marek dropped his hand to his side. With a small shake of his head, he finally spoke. “Fine, if that’s what you want. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take the marriage document with me. I’ll leave my cell number here on the desk in case you need to reach me before six. If you think of anything or need anything, call me.”
Carm nodded her head and slipped back to the window on the far side of the room. It was safer to put some distance between them.
Marek strode to the door and stopped. Staring hard at her, he said with a firm voice, “Remember we’re in this together. Whatever other shit we’ve got going on, whatever personal feelings or turmoil, we’re both in this.”
He sto
od there waiting until she nodded her head in agreement. “Good. I’ll see you at six then, wife.”
Carm stared at the door long after Marek had slammed it shut.
Wife. She was in some very deep shit.
Five
Marek thumped his hand on the steering wheel of his Jeep Wrangler. Merde! What had he been thinking last night?
Oh, he knew what he’d been feeling, definitely. He had wanted Carmen in his bed like he’d wanted nothing before. He just didn’t think he’d stoop so low to get her there.
He’d married the poor girl, for fuck’s sake. And she was a virgin, no less. He usually had very strict rules about sex and virginity, not having a wish to mix the two, but he’d gone and done it. And damned if he didn’t find himself feeling almost grateful about it this morning. Grateful that he’d been the first man to touch her.
It was an odd feeling for a man who thoroughly enjoyed casual sex without all the trappings. Yet, he couldn’t help it. He felt decidedly grateful, thankful, and humbled.
I’ll be damned.
When Carm had looked at him in her hotel room with such sad blue eyes, it had felt like someone had barreled into him with a Mac truck. He’d been torn between comforting her and fleeing from the room. He wasn’t good with female tears.
Not that they scared him, only that they usually forced him to do something incredibly stupid to get them to stop. And Marek had not only wanted Carm to stop crying, but he’d had an overwhelming desire to apologize for causing her distress.
He snorted into the cab of his jeep and adjusted his aviator style sunglasses. Yeah, like I could just give her back her virginity. Hell, I didn’t know I’d stolen it, how could I give it back?
Winding his way along the sharp, curvy one lane road, Marek made his way toward Smuggler’s Cove and his home. Enjoying the open air his topless jeep provided, he inhaled a deep breath of ocean air and admired the sun glinting off crystal clear sea. All nasty business aside it was a beautiful day, as were most days on his island.
It was one of the things he’d missed the most during his stint in New York City after all its excitement had quickly worn thin. He’d done what he’d had to and stuck it out for as long as he’d needed. Now there was no way in hell he’d ever leave his beautiful island paradise again.
Passing a couple of young boys peddling their bikes, Marek honked and waved before turning his yellow Wrangler down an unmarked paved road. Foliage grew so dense and thick that it butted right up against the narrow drive and cast dappling shadows across his face. Forced to crawl along at a snail pace, he reached out a hand and snatched a hot pink flower off a passing shrub.
Twirling the bright petals between his fingers, Marek slowly made his way up the hill. He could hear the bird calls and laughed out loud when a wild Cockatoo dashed overhead.
Man, he loved this place. He loved every single thing about it.
The road suddenly opened up before him revealing an expanse of deep green manicured lawn. In the middle of the sea of grass stood Marek’s home. The grand old plantation mansion sprawled along the ground, proud and beautiful. A long, covered double front porch stretched the length of the house and sides, shiny with new white paint.
He pulled to a stop in the circular drive and shifted his car into park. He remained seated there and surveyed his surroundings. There wasn’t a more perfectly situated house on the whole island. Most of the homes were built on hills since the island was so steep, but Marek’s home rested on a large, flat hill. The large lawn reached out on all sides from the house flat for many yards before slowly sloping downward in the front and butting up against a steep hill in the back.
The old plantation house had the lovely added benefit of facing the water. Marek could stand at any window in the front of the house and gaze down to the aqua water and white sandy beach below.
Smiling to himself, he stepped out of his car and stretched his arms high overhead, lifting his shirt. His hard, lean abs were exposed by the movement. Glancing at the cloudless sky, he lowered his arms and walked down the old brick path to the house, touching the flowering shrubs that bordered the walkway as he went.
When he’d purchased the house after his return from New York City, his mother had hounded him mercilessly to plant flowers. She’d demanded that the proud old lady be given something beautiful to lie at her feet. It was just like his mother to sentimentalize everything.
When he’d first bought the house it had been nothing more than a dilapidated old had-been. But he had seen her potential and had spent the next year gutting and renovating until she stood solid once again. He’d painted her a strong yellow to stand out against the surrounding green and had rebuilt the double tiered porches that had been crumbling to the ground.
A rustling in a nearby palm tree caught his attention. Curious, Marek stopped and waited. Soon a brilliant blue and red colored parrot flew from the feathery fronds and dashed away.
Where else could he ever enjoy such splendor?
He stepped onto the front porch and opened his large double door. Stepping through and shutting the door behind him, he sighed in appreciation as the cool air hit him. Gotta love air conditioning.
He kicked off his flip flops and stood in the two story entryway for a moment enjoying the sensation of the cool terra cotta tiles against his bare feet. Dusky pale peach walls surrounded him in the foyer. Vibrant paintings danced along the softly colored surface suffusing the room with energy and life. Light shimmered through the large window above the front door, emphasizing the open feel. A balcony wrapped around the second floor landing, open to the room below. And a wide, long staircase split in opposite directions halfway to the second floor landing, the railing painted a glossy cream.
Padding his way down the open entryway, Marek ignored the wide staircase and headed toward the kitchen at the back of the house. If he didn’t down some aspirin soon he was afraid his head would explode.
He made his way along the glistening hardwood floors through the living room and down a wide, open hallway until he reached a set of French doors. Pushing through, Marek stepped once again onto large, rich terra cotta tiles. He wasted no time in heading to the maple cabinets in search of relief.
Just as he’d opened the bottle of aspirin, the phone on the wall rang. Marek swore under his breath and marched over to the phone. He wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask? To be left alone for a freaking moment so that he could sort through the mess he was in?
Ripping the phone off the hook Marek growled into the mouthpiece, “Oui? What do you want?”
“Is that any way to speak to your best man? I’m hurt, Marek. Deeply hurt.”
“Oh, fous le camp, Landon. You have some explaining to do, man. I saw your signature on the certificate, on the witness line. What the hell? What were you thinking, letting me get married?”
Marek reached for a glass in the cupboard, pulled it down, and filled it with tap water. Landon had better have a damned good explanation.
“Whoa, back up the truck, dude. I was just as inebriated as you. If you’ll recall, last night after we finished our set, I met with Rachel. You know how she likes to party. I was shit-faced before you, bro. Besides, who am I to stand in the way of true love?”
It was a very good thing Marek had already swallowed the water, otherwise he would have spit it out. “What do you mean true love? I was only looking to get laid.”
Landon spoke firmly into the phone, “It was more than that, bro, and you know it. I saw the way you two were gobbling each other up. You two are made for each other. And aren’t you the one always spouting that fate and destiny bullshit?”
Yeah, he was.
“Screw you, bro. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Carm and I aren’t made for each other, so don’t go down that path. If there was any fate last night it was only there to get her in my bed. I’m sure as shit not ready to settle down into marriage. I’m going to find a way out of this so that I can send the
girl back home where she’s far, far away. I’ve got enough crap going on in my life right now, man. Now, are you going to help me out of this, or not?”
Landon was silent for a moment. Marek rolled his eyes toward the ceiling as he waited for his best fried to step up to the plate.
“Alright. What do you want me to do?”
“Tell me everything you remember about last night. Every little detail. I woke up in bed with her this morning and we were both naked, so I need to know everything.”
“Oh yeah, you two were naked? Right on. How’d she look? I bet she looks damn fine with nothin’ on.”
Marek made a menacing sound in the back of his throat.
“Ok, ok. I don’t remember much other than watching Big Bubba marry you two in the back of the bar in his office. Man, I’d forgotten that he’d gotten himself ordained through the internet. Funny thing, that. Anyway, you two made out after your vows then grabbed a taxi back to her place. That’s all I remember, I swear.”
Marek sighed and raked a hand through his wild hair. He’d been hoping for a whole lot more information than that. “Alright, thanks. If you think of anything else give me a ring. I’ve a meeting here in about an hour so I’d better go. Au revoir.”
He hung up the phone with a clunk and rubbed a palm hard against his temple. Oh, he wished he could remember last night. If he’d made out with Carm, and more like Landon had suggested, it was a shame that he had no memory of it.
What he hadn’t told Landon was that Carmen Hogue did look damned fine naked.
A scratching noise sounded at the French doors leading to the deck, and Marek looked down. His cat, Sunny had one furry orange paw on the glass and was begging to be let in. The cat was nearly as fat as his litter mate Noomba from the Green Island Inn.
Marek reached for the knob and turned the handle. Before Sunny could streak in he stepped out onto the sun-drenched deck. Squinting against the sun, he bent down and gave the cat a cursory pet. Since Sunny was busy purring and polishing his calves, he scratched her under the chin as well. The orange tabby closed her eyes in kitty bliss.