I walked back to the hotel and ventured into the noisy hotel bar, slipped off my jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. I ordered a Chardonnay and glanced around the smoke-filled room. A moment later, the bartender set a wine glass down in front of me with a clink and asked if I’d like to start a tab.
“Let me pick this one up.” A broad-shouldered blond man plunked down in the chair beside me and leaned in my direction. “And please bring me a glass of Schnapps.” He straightened his dark gray jacket and gazed at me.
“Have we met before?” The Nordic man with the sexy bass voice looked vaguely familiar.
“Stefan Andersson. We met briefly last year at the Stockholm conference.”
“Oh, yes. I recall your fascinating presentation on SNC meteorites.” I noticed how his muscular thighs pleasantly filled out his tweed slacks.
“Well, thank you, Miss Jones. I’m quite flattered. But I didn’t come over to discuss meteorites.” His gaze dropped down toward my breasts and he licked his lips.
“Really?” I sat up a little straighter in my chair, pulling my jacket lapels in toward each other. “So what did you want to discuss, Mr. Andersson?” I tugged my skirt down a little lower when his blue eyes drifted from my bust line to my calves.
“I do wish you would call me Stefan. A woman as lovely as you shouldn’t spend nights alone in a place as romantic as Prague. I thought you might like some company.”
“All alone? Well, I’d hardly say that—.”
“Oh, don’t play innocent with me, Miss Jones. Surely, you must know what looking at an attractive woman like yourself does to every male scientist at this conference?” He planted his feet wide apart on the floor and leaned in toward me. The tweed fabric tightened around his crotch.
This is definitely not good. I glanced at my untended fingernails and drummed them on the glass countertop to draw his attention. “The grit in my fingernails gets their blood racing every time.”
“Oh, how you toy with me.” Stefan grasped my upper arm, cutting off my circulation. My neck muscles tightened and fear pulsed through my veins. Stefan seemed accustomed to taking what he wanted. I longed for Justin’s touch, which had felt like the perfect blend of strength and gentleness. Justin would never force himself on me like this.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I yanked my arm free.
I caught an unpleasant whiff of garlic when he leaned in and breathed into my ear. “Look at that mini-skirt you’re wearing. You want men to notice you, don’t you? You want us to want you?” His rough, ape-like hands grappled my collar and pushed their way underneath the top of my jacket.
I leaned away from him and covered my nose with one hand. “I want to you take your hand off of my arm before I break it in half!” I’m sure that left him shaking in his shoes. This six-foot-four giant could crush me in the palm of his hand.
A dark-skinned man in a black suit tapped me on the shoulder.
“Are you Marissa Jones?”
“I am.” As I turned to face him, Stefan released his assault-like hold.
“These roses are for you,” the man said. He placed the bouquet into my hands. I thanked him and stared at the lovely red roses, my mouth falling open in awe. He hasn’t forgotten me. Stefan pushed his chair back. “I’ll catch up with you later.” He elbowed his way through the gathering crowd, his head and shoulders still visible over the crowd. That was completely terrifying. Once I returned to my room, I stepped out onto the balcony.
The Vltava River was painted orange by the setting sun. The mood felt so right for romance, for holding hands and taking a sunset walk along the river. I plucked the card from the stem of a rose and opened it. I recognized the scrawled handwriting from my manuscripts. I traced my fingers over the words.
Dear Marissa,
I’m really sorry about the other night. I tried to call you, but you never answered your phone. Our night together should have ended so much differently…I wanted to spend the night loving you.
Chloe and I have been over for weeks. We broke up before I met you. And I never loved her. What I feel for you is different—I don’t understand it yet, but I know I want to see you again. I miss your enthusiasm, your energy, the way you set my nerve endings on fire. Please give me another chance.
Justin
I held the paper to my lips and closed my eyes, imagining Justin was there with me. All I remember seeing was his brilliant green eyes. They flickered like the golden sunlight I’d seen on the water and I still saw them gazing back at me even after I’d opened my eyes.
Chapter Seven
“It took all day for her to review galaxy lists—the Messier, NGC and many more—to compare the image she’d seen behind her eyelids to existing galaxies. Not once was she tempted to give up. Her research was her purpose, her reason to exist. It breathed, had a pulse, like a living being she’d become intimately involved with. She saw the whirling galaxy she’d been searching for, its arms spread wide--the globe at the center of the Armi di Fuoco galaxy had a larger radius than the others. At that moment she knew she’d found the origin of her craters.”
I looked up and smiled, waiting for the class’s response.
“Aliens communicating through rock art? Wow, that’s really bizarre,” said Mark.
“Seems a bit far-fetched,” said Amanda.
Justin paced the room, his hands on his hips. “A few things about her scientific discovery don’t add up. Like how those meteorites travelled all this way to impact the earth?”
“They aren’t true meteorite impacts, but Claudia didn’t recognize that, because they look so much like craters. They’re a message—writing on the ocean floor.”
“So what is this alien message supposed to say?” Justin tipped his head to one side and wrinkled his brow.
“You’ll have to read the rest to find out.” I raised my chin and blinked twice, aiming for arrogant. What I really mean is I’ll have to figure out the answer before I can respond.
“Well I’m not sure the reader will find this believable,” said Justin. “You have to consider that.”
“This is the story I want to tell.” I felt panicked that he might ask me to rewrite it. This is the story I have to tell if I’m ever going to untangle this mystery.
“Well, you have to admit her writing has improved dramatically,” said Jennifer. “I didn’t even…I mean, it reads so professionally, you know?”
I covered my mouth to suppress a giggle.
“Yes, it is very well written, isn’t it?” Justin looked in my direction and smiled. “It seems your week in Prague did you some good.”
“Indeed. Sometimes all you need is a change of scenery to purge toxins that block your potential.” I wasn’t sure why I threw out something so hostile after he’d sent those lovely roses and a message that must have been difficult to write. Maybe it was because I no longer felt tall, like stone statues on buildings, but like a petite, vulnerable woman walking alone on a cobblestone street in the dead of night.
Justin pulled off his reading glasses and gazed at the floor. He paced the room, one hand planted under his chin. “Sometimes situations really aren’t what they seem, and other people interpret them the wrong way because of past experiences.”
“No past experience has been as ugly as a certain recent one.”
“Okay, speaking of that subtext we were discussing last hour, I seem to be missing something,” said Steve.
“Isn’t it obvious? Teach and Marissa have a thang going on.” Mark brushed his seemingly glued-together bangs from his eyes. “If we can convince them to kiss and make up, maybe we can get back on task.”
A burst of laughter ensued. The two older women sent me disapproving stares.
Justin blushed and wrung his hands. “We’re just having an intellectual dispute, that’s all.”
“Oh, sure,” said Mark. “You never look me up and down when you discuss my manuscript. Why don’t you just give her a wet one?” Then he looked at me. “Or you
could go first.”
“Are you kidding me?” I wrinkled my nose. “If I kiss him, he’ll probably turn back into the toad that he is.” I am such a jerk. No. I’m an innately calm and sedate individual. Prozac? Never touch the stuff. When I start punching people or breaking things it’s because a man nearby is making me crazy. In this case it’s Justin. There is something about his testosterone combined with the way the muscles in his cheeks ripple when he speaks and the way his eyes seem to strip my clothing off when he looks at me that sends me over the edge.
Justin shook his head and locked eyes with me. “I understand you’re upset about the comments I made about your work. Let’s take a break and step outside like civilized people and talk about it.”
He’d asked me politely to be reasonable, but once I fell into the role of madwoman, there was no turning back. “Upset about your comments? Ha! I don’t think so. What I’d really like to know about is Chloe.”
Heads jerked from my face to Justin’s and back again like they were watching a tennis match.
“Let’s take a ten minute break.” Justin stepped toward the door. “Marissa—will you please follow me before these people get whiplash?”
Everyone’s eyes were riveted on me. After a minute, I rose from my chair and followed him outside to a grassy area shaded by a tall sycamore tree. Heads peered around the corner of the building.
“I really did think she’d given me all of her keys,” said Justin.
“But since she showed up and I ran out, you thought you might as well go ahead and have one last quickie.” I thrust my hands on my hips and jutted my chin out.
Justin’s green eyes blazed and his face flushed a sailor-take-warning sunrise red. “You’re starting to make me very angry. I don’t owe you an explanation, even though I’ve repeatedly been trying to offer one. Hell, we’ve only been on one date.”
“So you did have sex with her.” I pouted, crossed my arms and leaned back against a tree trunk.
“No, I did not.” Justin waved his arms in despair. “I pushed her butt out the door almost right after you left, and got my keys back, too. I even changed the locks.”
“Did you really?” I sounded more excited than I wanted to. I uncrossed my arms and dropped them to my sides.
“If I wanted her, why would I have sent you roses in Prague?”
“I don’t know.” My heart wanted to give in, but I somehow couldn’t get my lips to agree to that plan.
“You shouldn’t have thrown that water bottle at me. That was totally inappropriate.”
“I know. But you made me so mad, I couldn’t stop myself. If you didn’t want me to leave your house, why didn’t you come after me? Don’t you know a fleeing woman always wants to be pursued?”
“I wasn’t sure I could pull it off without suffering mortal injury.”
“Very funny.” I attempted to suppress a laugh. Necks craned out further. “I hope today’s agenda doesn’t get back to the Board of Regents.”
“Yeah, you’re not the only one. Affairs with students are a big no-no. But I’ve never had a student like you before.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I pulled my back from the tree and stepped toward him.
“No, actually, I don’t. I usually follow all the rules and live a simple life. I met you and it was a like an earthquake struck. And every day since has been a string of aftershocks.” His gesturing hands dropped to his sides when he finished.
I couldn’t have said that better myself. I hadn’t needed men before. Life was scientific, methodical, structured, and predictable…until Justin. “There you go again, with your scientific similes.”
His lips curled up in a smile and the familiar twinkle crept back into his eyes. “I missed you when you were in Prague and I can’t imagine not seeing you for another week. What do you say we give this seismic love affair another try?”
I shrugged and angled my head in his direction to indicate I was open to suggestions
“If you’re free this afternoon, we could meet at the Cove for a swim.”
“You can swim?” I teased.
“Not very well, actually, but if I get in trouble, you’ll cross chest carry me to shore, right? Give me a little mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?” He placed his hands on my shoulders and brushed his lips against my cheek.
I’d missed the thrilling tingles his touch incited. This is so much more fun than fighting. “Don’t count on it.” I grasped his muscular upper arms and pushed him back. Electricity raced up my arm. “And keep your lips to yourself. We’ve got a captive audience.”
“How about four o’clock?”
“Fine.”
When we returned to the classroom, a round of applause erupted.
“Aren’t you going to kiss her?” asked Steve.
“Certainly not.” As Justin wrinkled his brow, his glasses slid crookedly down the bridge of his nose. I looked at Jennifer and muffled a laugh. “Now that Marissa is clear on the context of my comments, we’ll move on to Jane’s manuscript.”
After Jennifer drove me home, I stopped by the office to run the NRG rock samples through the spectrometer again. I’d carefully recorded each transition in chemical composition. Peering at a slice of rock beneath the microscope again, I could see the structures had changed even before the analysis was complete. The data indicated the composition now matched the readings I’d gotten on the rocks when the topography of the craters had been visible on radar. I knew people from another galaxy were trying to tell me something. But what? If only I could grasp the significance. I clicked off the light on the microscope and packed up my things. I had another problem to deal with at the moment—a muscular, hairy, blond-headed problem oozing mind-altering testosterone.
Chapter Eight
I slipped on a swirly purple swimsuit and covered up with my favorite gray soft-and-fuzzy sweats. My walk to the ocean passed quickly with wind at my back and soon I descended the cement steps to the La Jolla Cove, a small crescent of sand and chunky black rock. An enormous wave crashed on the beach, awakening dozing harbor seals.
Justin sat on a towel on a flat rock, his knees bent, his untidy curls twisting in the ocean breeze. Absorbed in thought, he gazed toward the horizon where sea met sky. I recalled the statues I’d seen in Prague—the stone men wielding swords or wearing crowns were all gifted with perfectly contoured pectoral muscles, rippled abdominal muscles, and calves that pulled the skin taut, nearly bursting with muscle. Justin’s a gorgeous statue that’s come to life. His hair gleamed metallic in the same afternoon sun that shadowed parts of his trunk and thighs, further emphasizing his musculature. If it was just lust, I wouldn’t see him that way. As if not a single feature about him could be improved. I don’t just want him because he’s gorgeous—I want him because something about him tugs at my heart as well as all my erogenous zones.
I ached to make love to him, over and over again. Wetness pooled between my thighs as I imagined him thrusting deeper and deeper inside of me, and my cheeks warmed at the thought of holding him in my arms all night. I wanted to awaken in the morning to the aroma of his masculinity, to the safety of his firm, strong arms--to trace my fingertips up and over every feature of his face.
“Don’t you just look like Rodin today?” I dropped my bag in the sand beside him and peeled off my sweat suit.
He blinked a few times, as if awakening from a trance. Ignited by the afternoon sun, his long blond eyelashes glowed around his warm green eyes, making them appear even larger. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” He stood and approached me, standing so close his breath tickled my cheek.
We faced each other, staring at one another for a long time. He clasped my forearms. “I’m really sorry I hurt you the other day.”
“I know. I’m ready to let it go.” My gaze tumbled into the mesmerizing abyss of his green eyes.
“I don’t want anyone distracting me from you again.” He slid one of his hands up my arm and tickled my collarbone before it rested o
n the side of my face. His touch sent shivers of excitement up my spine. He traced my lips with a fingertip.
“I don’t know if I can go through with this. That’s why I reacted like I did.” The tears that burst from my eyes surprised me. “Now is not a good time for me to be in a relationship.”
Justin wiped tears from the corner of my eyes with his thumbs before placing his hands on my shoulders and looking deeply into my eyes. “I understand you better than you think. I don’t usually lie awake half the night thinking about someone like I have with you. This scares me, actually.” He pulled me into his arms and I laid my head on the tickly warm refuge of his hairy chest. He brushed his hand over the back of my head. “I think the question we have to ask ourselves is whether we trust each other enough to let go and let what we have just take us?”
“Oh, Justin, I don’t know. I’ve got so much going on at work. I’m going to have to spend a lot of hours in the lab the next several months, sometimes even on weekends.”
“The next time I take you home, there won’t be any interruptions. Don’t you want to find out what that will be like?” He pushed me back so he could meet my eyes—his penetrating gaze revealed his plan. Peel off my clothes and carry me off to the bedroom, or even a chair or sofa if it was closer, so we could satiate this raging desire to feast ourselves on each other’s bodies. “As far as your work goes, whatever schedule you keep won’t bother me.”
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