by Tina Folsom
A sad smile played around Mrs. Adams’ lips. “Several times a day, she goes there. She’s there now. And on the way back she stops at the bar and drowns her sorrows. And tomorrow she’ll do the same thing again. It’s so sad to watch.”
“So the hot spring doesn’t have any real power, does it?”
“Oh, it does, but sometimes we’re not wishing for the right thing. Sometimes we don’t know what our heart’s true desire is. And the spring only grants those desires that are pure and true.”
“What could be purer than wanting a cure for her cancer?” he wondered.
“I’m not saying that her desires are not pure. But sometimes the spring just needs a sacrifice to work,” she answered cryptically.
Visions of slaughtered animals popped into his head. But he was sure that Mrs. Adams was talking about other kinds of sacrifices.
“Maybe you just want to tell Miss Culver that you found the pill bottle yourself. There’s no need for her to think that I know what’s going on. I’m sure she values her privacy.”
Without waiting for her response, he left the house and turned toward the main road on his search for the Tiki bar. After the information Mrs. Adams had shared with him, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to visit the spring right now.
3
Claire cast one last look back at the hot spring. When she’d arrived over an hour earlier, she’d captured some fresh water from where it poured out of the rocks with her cupped palms and swallowed it. At the same time she’d prayed for a miracle. Just like she’d done in the past five days since she’d come to the island. So far, nothing had changed. Her headaches were as painful as ever and were only subdued by the strong painkillers her oncologist had prescribed. But even those didn’t dull the pain for long. So she’d started drinking in the evenings to drown out the pounding in her head.
With each day that passed, hope faded further into the background as reality pushed to the forefront. Science had given up on her long ago, and the miracle she was hoping for by making the same wish at the spring over and over again wasn’t happening. In a few days the pain would be so excruciating and the seizures so severe that she would most likely fall into a coma from which she would never wake. Her time was up.
As she walked back on the dirt path that led into the village, she reflected on her life. But looking back on it made what lay ahead of her even harder to bear. She wasn’t ready to die. There was so much she hadn’t done, hadn’t seen, hadn’t experienced. It just wasn’t fair. She’d been a good person, honest, reliable, decent through and through. She’d never hurt anybody.
Like the other nights before, she headed for the Tiki bar. Some alcohol would numb her mind and stop her from speculating whether things would have turned out differently if only she’d gone to the doctor earlier when her headaches had started. She didn’t want to think about things she couldn’t change.
When she approached the bar, she already saw that it was half full like the night before: there were no walls. A bar stood in the middle of a hut without walls, its shutters, which protected the liquor from theft during the day, lifted and secured to the ceiling during opening hours. Soft music came from the speakers. One couple, embracing, danced slowly on the tiny makeshift dance floor. Others sat at the tables or at the bar, drinking and talking. Laughing. She steered for the bar and took the only vacant bar stool next to a tall dark haired man whose back was turned to her as he watched a football game on the muted TV that hung from the ceiling.
Claire motioned to the owner. He’d introduced himself the first night. “Evening, Luke.”
“Hi Claire. The usual?”
She nodded and watched how he prepared her Whiskey Sour the way she liked it. Might as well go out in style, she figured. When he put it in front of her, she lifted her glass to her lips and took the first sip.
The man next to her turned. “Cheers.”
She almost choked and quickly set the glass back on the counter. The man next to her was Jake, who she’d crashed into as she was running down the stairs at the Bed and Breakfast.
“Oh!” Just like earlier, she was unable to form a coherent sentence.
This time she couldn’t blame her monosyllabic response on the fact that they’d bumped into each other. No, she had to admit that she was tongue-tied because Jake exuded such pure maleness that her entire body was bursting into flames. She’d had her share of boyfriends, of course, good looking ones, too, but she’d never been with a man like the one who now gazed at her with such intensity that she wanted to rip her clothes from her body and offer herself to him.
Good God! What was she thinking? She was clearly going mad. Yes, she was finally slipping into insanity, unable to control her mind.
“Hi,” she said quickly before the silence between them stretched any longer. “Guess this is the only bar in town.” She sounded silly in her own ears, but Jake smiled at her nevertheless.
“Not much of a nightlife here on the island, I gather. Besides, it’s off season. But I suppose that’s not why people come here.” He gave her an expectant look.
“Have you been to the hot spring?” she asked him and took another sip from her drink so that her hands had something to do and he wouldn’t notice that they trembled.
“Not yet. I’m not in a rush. It’ll be there when I’m ready.”
She stared at the bottles that were lined up on the shelves suspended over the bar, nodding in agreement. “Still figuring out what you want?”
He shook his head. “I know what I want.”
Claire was surprised at herself. She wasn’t one to start a candid conversation with a stranger, but oddly enough, his openness was inviting her to talk as if they’d known each other for a while. Maybe it was because they were two lonely strangers in a bar, both with a wish they wanted fulfilled. Even though she couldn’t imagine what Jake could possibly wish for: didn’t a man like him have everything? Looks, strength, power? Women throwing themselves at his feet?
“Do you believe in it?” she heard herself ask.
“The hot spring?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know what to believe.”
“Is that why you’re waiting?” She turned her head to look at him.
His blue eyes locked with hers. “Is that why you’re going every day? Because you don’t know whether to believe in it?”
Her breath hitched. “You seem to know an awful lot.” If she were in a large city, she would be worried about him being a stalker. However, she knew how things on this island worked: nothing stayed a secret for longer than five minutes.
Jake shrugged, then took a sip from his red wine. “The islanders seem to keep a close eye on who’s visiting the hot spring.”
“They’re very protective of it,” she agreed and downed the rest of her drink in one big gulp. She made a gesture to get down from her bar stool, when she suddenly felt his hand on her forearm.
“Don’t leave,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you off.”
She hesitated, staring at his hand, then lifted her gaze to his face. His eyes were warm. She allowed herself to get drawn into their blue depths.
“Dance with me,” Jake whispered.
“I… uh,” she started.
“What have you got to lose? It’s just a dance between two strangers. I’ll be gone in a couple of days, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
He was right. She had nothing to lose. And why shouldn’t she allow herself to sway with the rhythm of the music, a stranger’s arms holding her for a few minutes, making her forget her sorrows?
“One dance,” Claire agreed.
“One dance,” he repeated and with ease lifted her from her barstool.
A moment later, she found herself on the dance floor, his arms holding her close to him, his thighs brushing hers, his hand on the small of her back pressing her closer to his torso, so she could feel his body heat engulf her. She closed her eyes and let herself fall into the dream that her life w
as only just beginning. That it wouldn’t end.
4
Jake pulled her closer and moved to the rhythm of the music. He hadn’t danced in a long time, but the steps were ingrained in him nevertheless. He’d always loved dancing, always loved the feeling of holding a woman in his arms.
Pressing his cheek to hers, he spoke softly. “I heard that sometimes the hot spring needs a sacrifice to grant a wish.”
Claire pulled her face back to look at him. “Who told you that?”
“Mrs. Adams.”
She leaned back into him. “She never mentioned anything to me about that.”
“Maybe you’re not the one to offer a sacrifice.” Maybe Mrs. Adams had meant this only for him—without knowing what his wish was—because he was the one asking for the impossible, and his wish demanded a sacrifice.
“What if it’s all a lie?” she mused. “What if the spring does nothing? What will you do then?”
“What will I do?”
“Yes, you. If you found out tonight that the spring doesn’t work, what would you do tomorrow?”
He’d thought about it ever since he’d decided to come to the island. “I would go to the beach and wait there until the sun rose.” He wouldn’t seek shelter from it, but allow the sun to turn him into dust and the ocean surf to sweep his remains away as if he’d never existed.
“Yes, your life would just go on. I wish it were the same for me.”
Jake didn’t correct her assumption. He heard the rising tears in Claire’s voice, but he wouldn’t allow her to cry. Not as long as she was with him. At least for tonight he wanted her to feel joy and pleasure.
“Come to the beach with me, now. And I’ll make you forget the things you want to forget. Just for tonight. Just you and me. The world around us doesn’t exist. The spring doesn’t exist.”
She didn’t pull away from him despite his outrageous offer. Instead he felt her nod. “Yes, make me forget, just for a little while.” Then she lifted her head and looked at him. “You must think me easy.”
He moved his head from side to side. “Do you think me easy?”
Clearly surprised at his question, she shook her head. “No.”
“Then why would I find you easy? Just because you allow yourself to say yes to something you want? I don’t judge people who follow their desires.” Jake lowered his head until his lips hovered over hers. “You still have a chance to change your mind, but once I kiss you—”
He didn’t get an opportunity to finish his sentence, because Claire leaned in and kissed him. Stunned and elated at the same time he savored her soft lips for an altogether too-brief moment, before she pulled back again.
“I won’t change my mind.” Her whispered words blew against his face.
Without waiting for the song to end, he led her toward the bar, tossed a twenty on it and left without another word. It didn’t matter what the bartender thought of them. Finding his bearings, he turned into the next side street and headed northwest.
The beach was deserted. And just like he’d thought he’d seen from his bedroom window, there was a small shed. He approached it and read the sign on it: Beach Rentals. A small padlock denied access to the contents of the shed. He reached for the lock.
“What are you doing? You’re not going to break in, are you?”
He winked at her. “Let’s live on the wild side for tonight.” Then he moved so she couldn’t see how he was opening the lock: with pure vampire strength.
The shed contained what he was looking for: cushions for the lounge chairs that were neatly stacked up next to the shed. He pulled two of them out and spread them in the sand, creating a makeshift bed.
When he caught her still stunned look, he put his arm around her waist and drew her against his body. “Trust me; we’ll both be more comfortable that way.”
“I’m not looking for comfortable.” Her lids swung open, her lashes almost crashing into her eyebrows.
God, she was beautiful. It hit him right there—that this beauty would be gone from this world very soon. That knowledge squeezed his heart like an iron fist clamping around it. The pain was palpable even though he shouldn’t feel any physical pain.
Jake brought his lips to hers, almost touching them, but not quite. “What are you looking for?”
“To feel alive.”
“Just alive? I can do better than that, darling.”
Her lips were soft and yielding when he slid his mouth over them and captured them gently. There was no hurry. The sun wouldn’t rise for another seven hours. He had time to make leisurely love to her. To give her everything she needed, just so she would feel cherished once more.
Claire wore a light dress, and pressed against his short-sleeved cotton shirt and his linen pants, he could feel every curve of her body. She wasn’t voluptuous by any stretch of the imagination, but she was well proportioned. Pulling her closer, he slipped his hand onto her backside, palming the alluring swell.
A soft moan issued from her throat. He swallowed it just as her lips opened, allowing him to sweep her tongue inside to explore her. Tasting her sweet essence, his body hardened, one appendage more so than the rest of his body: his cock, while already semi-erect when he’d danced with her, now surged to its fully erect state.
He couldn’t resist and pressed his hips more firmly into her soft center, letting her feel what she’d done to him. In response, she lowered her hands down to his backside. He could feel her fingernails digging themselves hard into his flesh, a feeling he welcomed more than she could know.
He’d always loved it when his vampire lovers had dug their claws into him, drawing blood while he drove his cock into them. He wished for the same thing now, for some fierce lovemaking, a no-holds-barred experience.
His fangs began to itch at the very thought of it, and he could feel them lengthen. Desperate to keep his vampire side from emerging, he ripped his mouth from hers and lifted her off her feet. Then he lowered her to lie on the lounge cushions he’d spread out.
He searched for the zipper of her dress and lowered it. Like a shy virgin, she looked away, but he wouldn’t have any of it.
“Claire,” he prompted her, drawing her gaze back onto him. “I want you to watch me undress.”
He noticed her swallow hard. But she said nothing. Slowly, he opened the buttons of his shirt, then shed the garment. Her eyes danced to his chest. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, showing him her appreciation. When her gaze dropped to his pants, his heart suddenly beat faster. Claire was looking at the bulge that had formed behind the zipper, all shyness gone now.
When she licked her lips, he groaned involuntarily.
Jake opened his pants and stepped out of them, leaving him only with his boxer briefs. They stretched tightly over his ever-growing erection. When he looked down at himself, he noticed that a drop of moisture had oozed from it and was showing through the fabric.
He was sure she saw it, too, the moonlight providing sufficient light even for a human’s eyes to see. Standing above her, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs then shoved them lower until he’d freed his cock. Cool night air blew against his hard-on, but it did nothing to quell the raging organ.
Claire was still staring at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted, when he rid himself of the garment. Her chest heaved, and he could see her hard nipples press through the fabric of her dress.
“Now you. Undress for me.”
He lowered himself onto his knees, close enough so nothing would escape his watchful eye.
With hesitant movements she pushed one strap off her shoulders, revealing creamy skin, then she dropped the second one and pulled on the fabric, exposing more of her skin. The top of her breasts came into view, then a second later, the perfectly round mounds topped with hard rosy nipples lay bare.
Jake sucked in a gulp of air. “You’re beautiful. So perfect.”
Encouraged by his words, she pushed the fabric lower. When she reached her hips, she paused.
>
“Show me more,” he demanded.
Claire pushed the dress below her hips and freed herself from it. She wore the tiniest panties he’d seen in a long time, the triangle of fabric barely covering her dark nest of hair, the strings holding it up so thin, he knew if he touched them, he would rip the garment to shreds. And that was exactly what he wanted to do.
When her hand went to her panties, he stopped her. “Wait.”
She gave him a startled look. “I thought you wanted me to undress.”
“I’ve changed my mind.” He went onto his hands and knees and crawled closer. “I want to do the rest myself, unless you object.”
She leaned back with a smile. “I don’t object.”
For a long moment, he simply looked at her, drinking in the sight. “I could look at you forever and not get tired of it.”
Claire chuckled softly and blushed. “You don’t have to say that.”
He leaned over her. “It’s true.” Then he lowered his head to her breasts and licked his tongue over one nipple.
A strangled moan came from her lips, and her body arched toward him.
“Just like I guessed,” he whispered against her warm flesh. “Perfect.”
Then he captured the nipple between his lips and sucked on it, while he palmed her other breast and kneaded it until she was writhing underneath him, her arousal now permeating the air around him. She tasted young and pure, so unspoiled he almost forgot what life had in store for her. But he didn’t want to think of it, not now, not when he wanted to give her more pleasure than she’d had in her entire life.
This night was for Claire, even though he knew he would get his fair share of pleasure, too. Just watching the way her body moved and her heart beat against her ribcage filled his heart with pride—and his cock with more blood, making him as hard as the rocks the surf was crashing against.
The moonlight bathed her in a warm light, the way sunlight could never achieve. It lent her face an almost mystical glow as if she wasn’t real and only a figment of his imagination. And maybe she was; maybe he was dreaming in order to try to escape the monotony of his long life. It didn’t matter, because what he sensed underneath his roaming hands felt real: warm flesh, smooth skin, hot blood. She was the personification of perfection.