by Maggie Nash
“I suppose it won’t hurt. As long as we’re careful. They weren’t very happy to see us before. What makes you think they will cooperate with us this time?”
Vincent smiled as an idea formed in his head. “Don’t worry, Mags. I have a plan.”
Magda’s brow furrowed. “A plan? Great! Why do I feel so much better now? Not!”
* * * *
I’m going to kill him!
Magda struggled to walk next to Vincent as they made their way to the middle of the village. Today the open space between the huts was a crowded marketplace, and unlike the quiet of yesterday, when the place had been deserted.
I have a plan, he said.
Don’t worry, he said.
Yeah right. Great idea of his trying to blend in with the natives. Not!
When word got out that a couple of Aussies had paid one-thousand Ringget for two sets of clothes, then the game would be up. Almost three hundred dollars for something that usually cost less than twenty. The whole village would be after them for a share of that if they found out, and the people that were after them, well, they would have to pretty stupid not to work out who the idiots splashing money around were. The hijab scarf she wore scratched her face where it wrapped over her nose and mouth, and the jilbab shift covering her body was sticky and uncomfortable. She scratched a particularly bothersome spot on her midriff and adjusted her clothing underneath. She swore there were mites nesting inside the nasty smelling material. Hadn’t these people heard of soap and water or deodorant?
She took a short look across at Vincent and caught him rubbing his neck. The only consolation to this situation was that he suffered in his garb as much as she did. Pulling on his sleeve, she slowed down their progress and leaned closer to Vincent. “Okay, Einstein. We’re here. What’s the next phase of your plan?”
He freed himself from her grip, his face unreadable as he distanced himself from her. “Don’t get too close,” he hissed. “The local women do not initiate conversations with their men in public.”
“Fine,” she whispered back through her teeth. “I won’t touch you again, but I need to know where we are going and what you hope to achieve.”
“There’s someone I want to see first, so just follow my lead.”
“So I guess you’re going to surprise me then.”
“It’ll work. Trust me.”
“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”
“And don’t forget to behave like the submissive female.”
A sound welled up in the back of her throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl, but it couldn’t be that. She didn’t growl.
Well, hardly ever.
“Mags—keep it down,” he whispered loudly as he turned from her and headed forward, leaving her seething under her scarf.
Looking at the ground, she saw a small rock and was so tempted to pick it up and throw it at his back, but even in her annoyance, she realized they had to at least try to blend in. So she continued to follow Vincent as he walked through the village almost to the end of the market stalls. He stopped, and since she wasn’t expecting it, she bumped into him.
“What the—?”
“Shhh…”
Turning left abruptly, Vincent walked down a short clearing between two mud huts, similar to the ones where they had met up yesterday morning. One of the huts had a door facing them and Vincent headed over in that direction.
“Selamat pagi,” he called toward the open doorway.
“Huh? I didn’t know you spoke Malay.”
“Shhh,” he whispered, turning his head back toward where she stood behind him. “Only a few words. All I said was ‘good morning’. Let me do the talking.”
Fine! She folded her arms across her chest. Let him shut me out of the action—again.
A short, stocky Malay man came out of the hut and smiled at Vincent. He walked toward them and stopped short in front of Vince, ignoring Magda.
“Awak apa khabar, kawan,” said the man.
Vincent turned toward the villager. “I am well, my friend. Boleh awak tolong saya?”
What the hell are they saying? Magda glared at Vincent’s back, hoping to fire enough animosity in his direction that he would get the picture.
Vincent glanced back at her with a contrite expression and shrugged. Turning back to the villager again, he started speaking in Malay again. “Awak boleh berbahasa Inggeris?”
The man nodded and smiled, his teeth surprisingly white given the several gaps in his gums. “Yes. I speak your language. I did not always live here in the village. I studied at the university in Kuala Lumpur.”
Hallelujah. At least she could now follow the conversation. Apparently boring your eyes into a person’s back did do something. Who would have thought?
“That’s great. My Malay is not so good, and my woman does not understand your language.”
The villager turned to Magda as if he only just realized she was there. What she saw in his eyes, however, was little more than contempt.
“What does it matter that a woman understands?”
Ha! Arrogant old bastard.
Vincent glared at her as she felt her hackles rising to boiling point. Okay, so she needed to control herself…and she was going to try really hard, but boy, did this guy push all her wrong buttons. Bracing herself, she cast her eyes downward. A good thing she had her face covered in a scarf. She was beginning to like this hijab scarf quite a lot, she thought as she scowled into the material scratching against her face, confident the arrogant villager could not see her scathing expression. Anyone looking would only see the bowed head of a respectful woman.
Fat lot of good trying to play along with Vince did her, because when she shifted her eyes upwards to see what was happening, she was just in time to see Vince disappear into the hut with the man. It nearly killed her to wait outside, but she knew what a patriarchal society this was and as much as she didn’t like it, if she walked in to that hut right now, she would ruin their chances of getting any information. But hey, that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a quick look around the village, did it?
Bowing down to the retreating men, Magda backed away. Once they were out of sight, she turned and made her way back to the market. Not really sure what she was looking for, she scanned the stalls on her right. The village stallholders looked up from their cross-legged positions on the ground at the chance of a potential sale, only to dismiss her outright when they saw her.
She tried not to be insulted. It was probably the outfit. If she’d been in her western gear, they most likely would have been falling all over her to buy, since these natives seemed to believe that all white people were rich. As if! A visit to the outer suburbs of Sydney where she’d grown up would set them straight.
Not finding anything remarkable, she moved to the other side. A stall offering various pieces of handmade jewelry caught her eye. An assortment of brightly colored stones attached to thin strips of cord lay strewn across the small blanket, but it was a carved statue that captured her attention. If she didn’t know better, she would think it was the image of Alexander the Great.
Being careful to avoid any of the men in the crowd, she made her way quickly over to the stall. A young couple distracted the male stallholder, so Magda inclined her head to catch the eye of the woman seated behind him and pointed to the statue. The woman nodded and she tentatively picked it up. There was nothing remarkable about it. It felt cold in her hand as she held it and turned it over, looking for some clue to the whereabouts of the relic.
On the base, there was an unusual symbol. It featured concentric circles with a pentagram in the center and a large eye in the uppermost point.
She gestured to the woman and pointed to the symbol, but the woman shook her head vigorously, pulling away and lowering her head.
What the—?
Maybe she was onto something here. She leaned forward and touched the woman’s sleeve. The woman shrank back in her place, her eyes radiating sheer terror. The man at her side
turned to them, and seeing the statue in Magda’s hand, he grabbed it, shouting at the woman in Malay and slapping her face making her fall backwards.
Magda was horrified and leaned forward to assist the woman.
A firm hand took hold of her arm, preventing her from moving, and turned her around.
She met the blazing eyes of Vincent as he looked about to explode.
“I was just having a look—”
“Shut up!” he hissed as he pulled her clear of the crowd and behind one of the many huts lining the edge of the village. “I thought I told you to stay out of trouble!”
Magda rubbed her arm where his hand had held her. “I wasn’t doing anything. I didn’t even speak. I was just looking at a statue.”
Vincent took in a breath and let it out. “When I told you to act the submissive female, did you not get what I meant?”
“Again, I repeat—I didn’t say anything and I had my head lowered most of the time.”
“Are you out of your freaking mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“These women do not move around un-chaperoned. You brought attention to us both by defying that rule. How could you be so stupid?”
Mags winced at his harsh words. Of course he was probably right. She should have known better, but he didn’t have to make such a big deal out of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Vince turned and started pacing back and forth on the small pathway. “Damn right you didn’t.”
“I said I’m sorry, but I did find out some—”
“Sorry won’t do us any good if our cover is blown.”
Shit. Magda took in a deep breath.
He’s not even listening to what I am saying!
“I know, but we might have a lea—”
On his third or fourth pass in front of her, he continued the rant. “Don’t you realize how easily they can find us? If word gets out a couple of anglos have been hanging around this village, we’ll be history in a very short space of time.”
All right then, if that was the way he was going to be he could just stew in his own juices. Magda turned on her heel and started walking out of the village and back toward the track that would take them back to his hut.
Seconds later, a hand took hold of her arm, and before she could protest, she was swiftly drawn toward a hard body and held firmly in place. Warm breath tickled her skin and she shivered as Vincent whispered in her ear.
“Okay, I went a little overboard, but we have to be so careful, Mags, and your running away from me isn’t going to help things.”
Shifting a little in her place, Magda tried unsuccessfully to get out of Vince’s strong grip. Although he wasn’t hurting her, she definitely wasn’t going anywhere.
“Yelling at me isn’t going to help things either, you idiot!”
His hand hiked up and over the hijab to cover her mouth. “Keep it down, Mags. At least until we get out of earshot.”
“Fine,” she grunted from under his hand, aware only of his hard body continuing to press against hers, playing havoc with her senses. Her breathing stopped while she waited for him to make his move. The sound of his ragged breaths whispering heat into her ears sent a thrill through her body and her nipples tightened almost painfully against the roughness of the shift she wore. The seconds ticked by and he still hadn’t moved. What was his problem? He had to move soon before she did something really stupid, like sigh with pleasure. Nope, she definitely didn’t want to do that.
Clearing her throat to reminding him where his hands were, she gritted through the material. “Are you stuck?”
“Huh? Oh, right—” He slowly removed his hold on her body and stepped back. “You will behave yourself, won’t you?”
Magda narrowed her eyes and glared at him the best she could to let him know in no uncertain terms how she felt. “Oh ye of little faith. I don’t believe in the past I have ever broken my word with you, and I am not about to start now. Lead on, oh great Master!”
Vincent threw her a look that could have been either exasperation or humor, or possibly both. “You’ll keep,” he said as he led the way out of the village once more.
Chapter Four
Why did she do it? Why did she always have to go and piss him off then totally throw him off balance by being so damn sexy? There was one thing for sure—being around Magda was never boring.
And she was probably the most fuckable woman he knew.
Just watching her swing those hips as she overtook him on the path back to the hut got him all hot and bothered. She’d taken off the Islamic disguise and now it flapped carelessly in the breeze as it hung discarded over her shoulder. It reminded him of the trouble it was for her to stay in character. Nope, she wasn’t the submissive type at all, although from memory…she didn’t mind at all when a man took charge in the sack, as long as they got to switch every now and then.
She turned her head and gave him a cheeky grin. “What are you smiling about, Stone? I’m kicking your butt out here in the jungle, you wimp! Pick up the pace why don’t you, or it’ll be dark before we get back to the hut.”
He chuckled to himself as the memories stirred his cock to life. He shouldn’t be enjoying himself so much when they were in such deep shit, but he couldn’t help it.
“Not everyone can be a jungle warrior woman like you, Mags, but put me in my favored environment and I am the Master.”
She stopped and turned to face him, hands on her hips and a big grin on her beautiful face. “Favored environment? Where would that be? In a kiddies’ playground?”
Moving quickly, he reached her, grabbed her shirt and pulled her close to him, their lips so close he could feel her sweet little breaths teasing his mouth. “Playground is right, Mags, but no kids are allowed where I am talking about. Strictly ‘Adults Only’.”
She gasped, and he saw that cute little nervous tic at the side of her mouth just begging to be kissed, but he hesitated, waiting to see what she would do next.
“You sound pretty sure of yourself, Stone. That’s very arrogant of you,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
“Not at all,” he breathed back, moving his free hand to the small of her neck and gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I’m very good at what I do, and I’m not afraid to prove it.”
She moaned softly and that was all the encouragement he needed. His mouth covered hers and demanded entrance. She tasted of the tangy mangosteens they’d eaten for breakfast as his tongue explored her mouth, thrusting slowly in and out, exactly how he wanted to fuck her.
Right now.
Right here.
Slow and easy, and making it last until their bodies exploded. He let go of her shirt and slid his hand inside, covering her bare breast with his palm. She kept her arms by her side, but her nipple pebbled hard in his hand and he couldn’t resist rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
“Oh God,” she gasped as she broke away, leaning her head to the side allowing him to trail his mouth over the softness of her beautiful neck. He could feel the heat rising on her skin as her breathing became more ragged the more he touched her. Jeezus, she was on fire!
He moved his hand from her shirt and slid it under the waistband of her shorts, slowly inching toward her gorgeous pussy. His cock leaped for joy when his index finger entered her body.
“Jeezus, Mags, you’re so wet.”
Her body stiffened, and he felt her withdraw from him, physically and emotionally. Shit, he’d fucked up again. Carefully, he removed his hands and took a step back from her, his breathing uneven and coming in short spurts.
Magda stared at his face, her beautiful green eyes shimmering with unshed tears and full of confusion. “We can’t do this, Vincent,” she whispered.
Aw shit…you’re a fucking idiot, Vince!
“I’m sorry, Mags. I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but you don’t know what you do to me.”
A hint of a smile came over her lips. “Yes, I do, Vincent. Me and every
other woman who crosses your path.”
Ouch.
“I guess after the way we ended I deserved that, but I mean it when I say, despite what you think, what we had was something very special. But I know how you feel about me. I’m sorry for leading you on, and I’ll try and keep my hands to myself next time.”
Moving past her, he took the lead down the path and walked quickly, not stopping until his cock had returned to a more acceptable condition and he’d reached the hut.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why had she let that happen? She was supposed to be keeping her distance and here she was, giving in to her insatiable desire for this man. This man who had the power to crush her heart all over again, if she let him. And just when she thought she was safe with her heart all locked up tight, she let him get close again. How stupid was that?
Standing still on the track, Magda sucked in a large breath and let it out slowly, willing herself to calm down. Her heart had other ideas as it continued to beat a pounding rhythm hard against her chest as she watched the object of her desire almost run away from her and disappear from view.
Fuck, anyone would think he was pissed with her or something, when everyone knew he went through women like underwear. She jolted out of her temporary stupor and followed him down the track, walking briskly to try to catch him.
Hang on a minute!
She stopped again, shaking her head as a brightly colored moth hovered around her face.
What we had together was very special. Had she heard that right? Did he really mean that? Given the way they’d broken up, he sure had a funny way of showing it.
Continuing down the path, she gave up on catching up to Vincent and concentrated on figuring out what was up with him instead. Remembering the size of his dick pressing in to her groin during that kiss, she laughed to herself. What was up with him, besides the obvious, of course? He’d been acting weird ever since they’d hooked up. On the surface, he was the same old Vince. The smart-mouthed jock always on the lookout for a quick fuck. But underneath that there was something else. She hadn’t thought about it until now, but he was acting more serious than usual. And more protective than ever before. In the past when they’d worked together, he’d treated her as one of the guys. Even when they’d been fucking like rabbits, work had always been separate. What had changed now? Dare she hope for some deeper feelings from him?