by Wendy Rosnau
Feeling marginally better, she tossed her hair away from her face and said, "You need to clean out your ears, McEwen."
"What?"
"See, you can't hear worth a damn."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I asked you to stop last night."
"Bullshit. You didn't want me to stop. You came. I felt it. Heard it."
Eva turned her face away. It was true she had climaxed, but before that, if he had been listening…
"You wanted me," he said quietly. Resolute.
Yes, she had wanted him up until the time she had realized why—that she had feelings for him. Real feelings. Then she had been too afraid to want him. Only she hadn't tried hard enough to get away or he would have let her go. He had already told her he wouldn't force her.
Did that mean the blame was squarely on her shoulders?
Eva went into survival mode. "You're right. I wanted you last night. I wanted to know what it would be like to do it with a man, not a greedy young boy."
She saw something flash in his eyes, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. He glanced around, gestured to the ruins behind them. "That's all that's here. You want to go exploring, be my guest. The closest island is Paros eight miles away. Unless you can swim that far you're here with me until I decide to leave. I worked up an appetite last night. Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes."
"Sly, come back here. Sly! See, your hearing sucks!" she shouted when he turned away and started back to the Hector.
"Oh, I don't know. I didn't have any trouble hearing you moaning last night."
When the water reached his thighs, he dived into the sea. The last Eva saw, before he disappeared into the depths, was his beautiful naked backside in the morning sun.
"Eva. Are you up here? Evy!"
Sly climbed the last step and entered what once had been the monastery's tower. When he saw Eva standing near the window looking out over the sea, relief swept over him.
The day was clear, and the sun's rays outlined her body, giving her hair a golden glow. She wore the pink tank and a matching pink-and-green skirt that had come with the Hector at the time he'd bought the yacht. He had thought once about tossing the clothes out, good thing he hadn't gotten around to it.
The skirt, like the top, hugged her body. They weren't meant for a woman with curves, and he decided that when they reached Paros, for his sake as well as hers, he needed to buy her some clothes that fit. Something that didn't make him think of sex every time he looked at her.
He leaned against the wall, his torso bare, his jeans hugging his hips. "You've been gone a long time."
She turned and glared at him. "You said I could go exploring. Are we leaving?"
"No."
"Then go away."
"You need to eat something. You haven't had anything all day."
"I'm not hungry."
"It's midafternoon." Sly was determined to get to the bottom of what was bothering her. She hadn't come back to the Hector all morning, and then when she had, she'd taken the clothes and left without so much as a peep.
They needed to talk about her father. He was sure she had information he could use if only she'd share it. That wasn't going to happen, however, until he broke through the wall she had erected around herself since waking up on the beach in his arms.
She had given him the excuse that she'd asked him to stop last night, but that was crap.
"About last night. I—"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"I've given you all the time I'm going to, half the damn day to work through whatever it is that's bothering you. Since you look stuck, I've come to help."
She tossed her head, raised her chin. "I don't need your help, Sly. All I need is to get off this island and away from you."
"If I forced you last night, I—"
"You didn't force me. We agreed I wanted you, remember?"
"And what about now? Do you want me now?"
"What?"
"Answer the question. Do you want me now?"
"No."
Sly shoved away from the wall and started toward her. "You answered pretty quick, but your heart wasn't in it."
She backed away, shook her head. "What are you doing?"
"Playing a hunch."
"What does that mean?"
He kept coming and she kept moving. There was a partial wall that jutted three feet into the room. If she kept moving away from him, she would eventually run into it. He kept tracking her, and she kept moving.
She was going to trap herself if she wasn't careful. If she didn't want that to happen, she would be forced to stop moving, or make a countermove. The only way out of the tower was past him.
She glanced at the door. He guessed she was telling him the truth about needing to get away from him. But the question was, why was the need so strong?
She surged forward, her intention to bolt past him to reach the stairs. She'd done something similar last night on the Hector, only today he was ready. When she was almost past him, he reached out, snagged her around her waist and lifted her off her feet.
"No!"
She swung at his head. He ducked, let her fists bounce off his shoulders as she tried to force him to release her. In a matter of seconds, he had her pinned against the stone wall.
"Let go, damn you," she shouted, slamming her fist into his chest.
He let her hit him, let her have her moment, and when she ran out of steam, he said, "We're going to do it again. And this time, I'm going to listen more carefully. But I'm willing to bet I'm going to hear pretty much the same thing I heard last night."
"No!"
"You're not going to tell me to stop, Evy. You're not because what's going on between us goes deeper than just sex."
"You're crazy!"
"Maybe. Maybe I have it all wrong. We're going to find out. Right here. Now."
"No. I don't need you! You're wrong."
"Prove it."
"I'm not weak. I can survive without feeling."
"Simon's little protégé," he taunted. She slapped him.
He slapped her back, not hard, but hard enough to let her know he was through taking her abuse. "It's too late, Evy. Like it or not, there's a whole lot of feeling and needing going on between us."
He shoved her skirt up, and pulled her panties down. Unzipped his jeans. He was fully aroused, and he braced her back against the wall.
"Tell me no."
When she said nothing he spread her legs wide and pushed into her hard and fast. She cried out from his sudden invasion, and it was then that he realized he should have given her more time, time to say no. Time to tell him what she was really feeling.
"Dammit!" He slid back and started to pull out of her.
"Wait…"
Suddenly she was clinging to him, pulling him forward and wrapping her long legs around his waist to prevent him from sliding out of her.
Kissing him, she whispered, "Don't leave me, Sly. Make love with me. You're right, it's too late. Much too late."
"I was going after the Chameleon before you came into the picture," he told her, as he flipped the fish fillets onto two plates, then brought them to the table in the galley where Eva sat waiting for him.
The sun had set an hour ago, they both had their clothes back on, and the tower in the old monastery had once again been left to the birds.
Before Sly sat, he poured Eva a glass of wine, then popped the top on a beer for himself. Sitting across from her, he said, "Bread, cheese and grilled fish. It could be worse."
"It smells delicious. I'm starving."
"You should have eaten something this morning."
"I wasn't hungry this morning."
Sly forked a piece of fish into his mouth, watching her as she cut into the fish with delicate manners. When she slid a piece of fish off her fork and into her mouth, she closed her eyes and chewed slowly. Moaning a little as she swallowed.
He grinned. "That good, huh?"
"Heaven
ly." She opened her eyes. "Simon is a vegetarian. There is no meat allowed in any of his homes. While I'm in Greece, he lets me order fish occasionally at a café, but only when he's feeling generous. As you know, that's not very often. Sometimes I dream about juicy hamburgers and fried chicken," she confessed.
Sly studied her from across the table. She had suffered on every level of her life, and he suddenly wanted to change that for her. He said, "When we get to Paros we'll find a place that serves hamburgers. How's that?"
She stopped chewing and set down her fork. "I would be careful if I were you. If you treat me too well, you might not be able to get rid of me when it's time."
She was looking at him again the way she had after they had made love in the tower. It was a puzzled kind of look, as if she wanted to ask him something, but wasn't sure how to go about it.
"Do you have a plan?" she asked.
He was munching on a piece of cheese. "A plan?"
"You know, what's your next move going to be? I know you're waiting for some word from your friend, but after you don't hear from him, then what?"
Sly scowled. "You don't know Bjorn. Don't sell him short. I've left two messages. One for Merrick and one for Bjorn, neither have responded. But there's still time. I'll try again later tonight."
"And if there's nothing?"
"Then I'll try again in the morning. If I haven't heard something by noon, we'll sail to Paros and buy you some clothes that fit."
"We could sail away tonight like vagabonds. Just you and me. We could disappear."
Her suggestion surprised him. "And you could do that? Disappear? Last night you told me you needed to understand why your mother died, and your father stopped loving you."
"I know what I said. But, maybe… You said it wouldn't set me free, so maybe—"
"Maybe I was wrong."
She leaned back and studied him while she sipped her wine. Finally, she said, "Sly McEwen wrong? Hmm … I was just starting to trust you, and now you say you're wrong."
"I said maybe. I think maybe you need to see this through."
"I think the truth is you need to see this through, and you need me to make that happen."
He reached for his beer, took a swallow, then finished his fish. Shoving his plate aside, he said, "If Merrick or Bjorn don't call, we're going after—"
"I'm not going to help you kill my father."
"Your loyalty amazes me. He doesn't deserve it."
"I know that."
"Tell me what you were hoping to find in your father's file."
She set down her wineglass, then touched her napkin to her lips. "After my mother died my father turned into a man I didn't recognize. He had no time for me. I wanted desperately to fix whatever it was that had driven him away from me, but he left me in Atlanta with Helen and Lida without looking back."
"The minions," Sly supplied, remembering how she had described them to Dr. Fielding.
She picked up on the word and frowned. "Do you have to keep doing that? Reciting every damn word on those damn tapes?"
"Sorry. You were saying?"
"I got to see him once a year, and I used to get so excited. So excited I couldn't eat or sleep for days. It was the same year after year. When I was nineteen, he came to take me to Simon's party. We had never gone out together, and I thought maybe he'd finally decided to take time for me. We walked into Boxwood and I saw all these people wearing costumes. I wasn't introduced to any of them. My father led me down a hall and out a back door to the pavilion. He told me to sit and wait for him to come back. A little while later he returned with Simon."
She stood and turned her back to him. Feeling she needed the distance to get out what she wanted to say, Sly remained quiet.
"I had never seen an albino before. Simon was dressed in a red suit and black cape. He looked like a vampire with his white skin and red eyes." She turned to face him. "My father asked Simon what he thought of his birthday present, and that's when I knew his love for me had died along with my mother the night of the fire. He told me I had things to learn, and that Simon was going to teach them to me. He said I was to learn patience, discipline and survival. After all, you are your father's daughter, he said. Then, he said, living isn't for the weak of body and mind. Those who master the game, master their own fate. Make your father proud. That was all, then he left. You can't know what it felt like when he walked away from me and never looked back."
Sly worked hard to control the overwhelming urge to reach for her. He had thought his stepfather had been the lowest scum on the earth, but the Chameleon had LeRoy beat hands down.
"I had no idea that Simon couldn't… That he'd been castrated. A few months after his party he became ill. An infection attacked his delicate immune system. He spent several days in the hospital, and when he came home, he was quarantined in his bedroom. One night, he asked for me and I went to his room and found him lying naked on a cotton sheet. I saw what had been done to him, and … and I was shocked, but mostly I was relieved. Since I had come to live at Boxwood I had worried day and night that part of my lessons would be Simon violating me. After that night, I settled into my new life. I played Simon's games, learned the lessons and vowed to survive all of them, so one day, when my father was ready to tell me why he had thrown me away, I would be alive to hear it. But then…"
"Then?"
"Then a year ago I started to have the dreams. Or maybe I should call them nightmares. I kept seeing my mother lying on the floor while the fire came closer, and I could hear the voices. I decided to see Dr. Fielding. Her office was close to the pharmacy and health store. I devised a plan to go there when I had to pick up Simon's vitamins and oddities. When I became comfortable with the doctor, I let her hypnotize me. It never really worked on me. Except that it gave me recurring headaches."
"What about the voices?"
She returned to her chair. "One of the voices is my father's, but I still don't recognize the other one."
"A man's voice, or a woman's voice?"
"It's a man's voice."
"So you hear him, but can't see him?"
"In the dream his head is turned. I can see that his hair is dark like my father's, with gray temples."
"Where is your mother when you hear the voices?"
"She's lying in the TV room dead."
"How do you know she's dead?"
"I can see her. She's on her side by the couch. She's not moving. The couch is on fire."
"So she was killed before the fire started." It wasn't a question. Sly's mind was sifting through the pieces, trying to fit them into the puzzle. "Where were you when your mother was killed?"
"I don't know." She closed her eyes. "I was upstairs. After supper my mother always spent an hour with me before bedtime. We were sitting together in the TV room downstairs and I remembered a picture I had drawn in school. I went to get it and when I started back downstairs I smelled the smoke. I stopped halfway down."
"Because of the smoke?"
"Yes … no. Because my father was screaming at the other man."
She started to rub her temples. "Headache?"
"The start of one."
"Don't try to force it."
"The smoke is coming up the stairs and I'm worried about Mother. She's just lying there and Father is crying and yelling at the man. The man's laughing. No, maybe my father's laughing. No, he wouldn't be laughing. I don't know. The smoke is burning my throat and I'm scared."
She shoved the plate of food aside and laid her head on the table.
Sly reached out and stroked her hair. "That's enough. Don't try to remember any more."
"It always stops there," she muttered. "My head starts to hurt and I smell the smoke, and then nothing."
"Forget it for now. We're done talking. You're going to make yourself sick if you don't think about something else for a while."
He left her at the table, urging her to eat some more while he cleaned up the galley. She joined him a short time later, and he was glad to see th
at her plate was empty when she brought it to the sink.
She helped him finish the last of the cleanup, then excused herself and went into the bathroom. While she was gone, he stepped into the utility room under the stairs to turn on his computer and check his message board. Seeing that neither Merrick nor Bjorn had responded, he sent a second coded message, then went into the sitting room to wait for Eva.
He was seated on the couch, resting his head on a plump pillow that curved his neck, when he heard the music. Eyes closed, he blinked them open. Eva stood in the doorway barefoot, a look of indecision on her face.
He said, "Come here."
"I thought you said we were through talking?"
"We are."
"There's a guest bedroom and bathroom in the bow. I went exploring before dinner."
"If you think you're going to sleep in there tonight you're wrong."
She smiled, walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. "I'm not tired. You?"
"No."
"What should we do?"
His eyes traveled the length of her thinking of a couple dozen things he would like to do with her.
"If you want me, Sly, unzip your jeans."
Sly couldn't remember a time when he hadn't wanted her. Even when he'd wanted to strangle her, he had wanted her. It was something he'd come to accept even before they had met, when her smoky voice had turned his nights into a playground of hot fantasies and heavy breathing. He unsnapped his jeans and slid the zipper down. Waited. Watched as her hands moved down her hips and her fingers caught the fabric of her skirt along her thighs. Slowly she began to slide the skirt upward until he could see that she had removed her panties. He let the air out of his lungs along with a moan, his eyes fastening on the cinnamon curls forming a narrow V between her thighs.
"You do know how to get a man's blood pumping, Evy."
"Am I going too fast?"
For an answer, he reached for her and she let him lift her astride his hips. A little shifting, and she was there, guiding him into her moist heat while she looked him in the eyes.
Slowly she leaned forward and kissed him using her tongue.
He took the kiss. Gave one back just as wet.