Szereto, Mellanie - Two from the Triangle [Bewitching Desires 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Mellanie Szereto

  She straightened, common sense warring against the sudden twinges inside her. Sexual attraction? Her hormones had to be causing the strange effect of his presence on her body. “I accept your apology. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be alone.”

  The sea breeze whipped her long skirt against her calves as she strode toward the north end of the cay. She’d only make a fool of herself if she stayed. The panic of their ordeal had subsided, and she’d begun to see the men as potential mates instead of what they were—the accidental saviors who viewed her as a mere teenaged girl. Owen had tried to pacify her wounded ego with an exaggerated account of her desirability, but she didn’t have to be a genius to know the truth. Heath had apologized for his remarks, never recanting his opinion that she looked far too young to go off by herself without her parents’ permission.

  She was an unskilled witch lurking in pubescent purgatory. No males with the blatant masculinity of her fellow stranded survivors would settle for less than a buxom epitome of womanhood. Something Heléna wasn’t and never would be.

  Every step increased her pulse another couple beats, and spots flickered in her vision, mixed with images of Owen and Heath. Reddish blond hair and green eyes. A quick, gentle smile. Sandy brown hair and gray eyes. Unreadable. Both men sported muscular arms, sculpted upper bodies, and rippled abdomens. Heath’s strong calves had unerringly drawn her gaze upward to his other generous endowments. Thigh-hugging wet underwear had outlined a pair of well-hung balls and a thick curved cock. Unfortunately, Owen hadn’t removed his soaked breeches to show off the bulge beneath his zipper.

  A flash of heat stole her balance, and she struggled to force her feet through the glittering sand. The sun reflected off the individual grains, changing the spots from pastel blue, green, and yellow to bright white. Had Great Grandmother used her powers to send Heléna home?

  What about Heath and Owen? Would Romána spell them to safety?

  A glance back toward the men disoriented Heléna even more, and she stumbled. The ground came up to meet her hands and knees. Tempted by the silky surface, she settled on her stomach to rest. A nap might make the nightmare of a day end. When she woke, she’d close her eyes again and stay bundled in the blankets until after the rise of the third-quarter moon. Her fertility cycle would be over for two thousand five hundred sixty-one days.

  * * * *

  “Heléna! Are you all right?” With his heart in his throat, Heath scrambled along the loose sand to where she’d collapsed. Each step was a slow-motion effort to reach her prone form, panic prodding him to go faster.

  Finally, he knelt beside her. A palm to her pale cheek came away clammy, and her hair clung to her sweat-soaked neck and upper back. Though the sky was clear, with bright sun warming the air, he’d guess the temperature wasn’t above eighty degrees. The likelihood of heatstroke was slim unless she was a lot more sensitive than the average person.

  “Is she conscious?” Owen dropped to his knees beside Heath. Dabbing at her forehead with his dripping shirt, Owen frowned. “Damn, I wish we had fresh water. And we need to get her out of the sun.”

  She blinked, wiping at the water droplets chasing a path to her chin. “What happened? I was so dizzy.”

  “You were walking, and then you stumbled and fell.” Blocking the sun’s rays from her face, Heath helped her roll to her side, his pulse still echoing in his ears. At least the knots in his stomach had eased a little. He lifted her into his arms as he rose, and a strange feeling of rightness washed over him. “This way, Owen. I found a place with a dozen or so trees bunched together. We can build a small cook fire and set up camp for the night.”

  Owen nodded. “I’ll gather some wood and our belongings while you get her settled.”

  Heléna tightened her grasp on Heath’s neck, triggering an impulse to hold her closer and taste her beautiful lips. A punch of desire hit him in square in the gut. He gathered all his self-control to keep from acting on it, reminding himself she’d fainted only minutes ago.

  “I feel fine now.” She stiffened against him. “Put me down.”

  A growl formed low in his throat, but he swallowed it. Had she noticed that he’d taken a slow inhale of faint flowery scent mixed with seawater from the hair brushing his jaw? “When we get to the trees. You were dizzy enough to fall down back there. Until I’m certain you’re okay, this is where you stay.”

  She grumbled something he couldn’t quite understand, but that was probably for the best. For as tiny as she was, she had a big temper. Her wide streak of independence had to come from her wish that people stop treating her like a helpless child because of her appearance.

  Chuckling as he walked beside Heath, Owen handed Heléna the wet shirt. “She’s right, Heath. You can be overbearing at times. Me, I’m only protective. Best to humor him, honey.”

  Heath scowled at his friend. “Overbearing? She collapsed from heat exhaustion, and you make it sound like I overreacted.”

  “She said it, not me.” Owen held up his hands as if to deflect any blame.

  Huffing out a frustrated sigh, Heath bit his tongue to keep from spouting a defensive retort. He lengthened his stride to cover the half a mile up the beach quicker. The sooner he got to the shade, the better. The cluster of pines could hardly be called a forest, but it would shelter them from the afternoon and evening sun.

  When they headed inland, Heléna started squirming again. “I can walk. I’m not an invalid.”

  God, she was stubborn. “You’re not heavy, doll. I think I’ll carry you instead since we’re almost there.”

  She growled, and a smile tickled his mouth. “Stop calling me doll!”

  “That’s what I call all the women who follow pilots around like puppies.” He hefted her higher to keep from losing his hold on her. “Fakes looking to tell their girlfriends they got fucked by an airplane jockey.”

  Her fist connected with his jaw, sending a surge of pain through his teeth. She packed quite a punch at close range. Her legs slipped from his grip, and she jerked free, tumbling to the ground. “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on the planet!”

  She fought the skirt tangling around her, tripping several times before she gained her feet. Gathering some of the fabric in her hands, she sprinted past the trees and toward the northernmost point of the cay. Her steps were sure and steady, and she showed no signs of fainting or falling. She disappeared behind a distant rock a minute later.

  The woman tied him knots. He couldn’t convince his logical brain she hadn’t purposely stowed away on the plane, yet his instincts told him she hadn’t. Add to that his dick’s response to holding her, and the caution against becoming involved in a relationship again worked to sabotage any chance of it.

  Owen picked up his sandy shirt, shaking off the wet grains. “How many apologies are you shooting for, Heath? ’Cause the one you owe her now makes two.”

  Not in the mood for his partner’s smartass comments, Heath shook his head and aimed for the other end of the island. “I’ll get our stuff and some wood for a fire.”

  Resisting the temptation to check for a glimpse of Heléna, he concentrated on the gentle shush of the surf washing against the shore and the breeze ruffling his hair. He half expected one of the gulls riding the wind overhead to shit on him. It’s been that kind of day.

  * * * *

  Heléna stripped off her skirt and ran to meet the waves racing to greet her. Who’d have thought the very first day of her first fertility cycle could’ve gotten any worse? Maybe she’d get lucky and drown while she hid the evidence of the stinging hurt from Heath’s insult in seawater.

  He’d labeled her a shallow, manipulative bitch before she’d even spoke a word to him. A man like him didn’t deserve the gift of her virginity, whether her hormones wanted him or not. They didn’t care that he wasn’t her mate. He was simply a means to pacify a sexual need.

  Owen had triggered a similar reaction, but she couldn’t use him to satisfy the craving. He’d made an effort to be
nice to her, unlike his copilot, and searching for any male to screw had never entered her thoughts. No, that wasn’t right. She’d wished for a pair of cabana boys and a beach that very morning.

  She shivered when the cool water lapped at her thighs. It might’ve been refreshing if the heat and humidity of summer pressed down on her instead of mild winter temperatures.

  A tear dripped from her cheek into the ocean, the two mixing and blending to dilute her emotions. Somewhere, her mates unknowingly waited for her. Would they still be available to her in seven years? Even if she managed to spell herself back to the mansion, she wouldn’t venture out again until her next cycle. Between the ineptitude of her spellcasting and the lack of receptive men, it wasn’t worth the risk.

  Her cousin Kata’s experience in a tropical paradise floated into Heléna’s mind as she dove under the surface. Being incanted into a painting as a mermaid with a pair of deliverymen sure beat being stranded on the beach with two pilots after their plane crashed. Of course, Aaron and Adam were Kata’s true mates as well. Heléna couldn’t begin to guess where the men she was destined to share her life with lived.

  She skimmed the ocean floor with her belly, aiming for the beach. Swimming alone was dangerous, especially since she knew nothing about the tides and the depth beyond where she stood when she came up for air. Small waves set her off-balance with their insistent pressure on the middle of her back, and the touch of a fish gliding past her knee sent a chill up her spine.

  “Heléna! Heléna!” Owen jogged into the shallows, wildly gesturing with his arms. “Shark! God, honey, there’s a shark right behind you!”

  A gray fin cut through the water a few feet from her right side, the silhouette of its long body darkening the clear aqua sea. Her heart skipped a beat, and her lungs seized. I’m meant to die instead of finding my mates.

  Splashes from the far left sent the shark swimming toward the movement, and a quick glance made her stomach drop to her feet.

  Heath smacked a stick on the surface of the water, drawing the predator away from her. “Get out of the water!”

  Frozen in place, she could only stare at her rescuer.

  “Damn it, Heléna! Now! Get out of the water!”

  The panic in his voice pushed her legs into motion, and she kicked toward the beach until her ankles hit sand. She chanced a look at Heath as she crawled out of the surf.

  He wacked at the tooth-filled maw, jumping backward as the shark lunged at him. The stick connected with its snout, and the distinctive fin sunk under the waves to appear in deeper water a few seconds later. Heléna held her breath until Heath dropped to his hands and knees above the waterline.

  Why would he come to her rescue when he clearly thought so little of her? She was nothing more than an immoral groupie to him. His actions made no sense.

  Owen brushed her tangled hair off her forehead and cradled her in his arms. “You okay? Jesus, that took a decade off my life.”

  Tremors rippled over her skin, making her shake from head to toe. Even her teeth chattered with the quakes. “I–I...”

  Words wouldn’t form, but more tears did. Burying her face in his chest, she tried to stifle the sobs. His comforting hand rubbing her back set them free. She couldn’t remember when she’d last cried with such a mix of grief and relief. How could she have thought she could escape her mistakes so easily? Why hadn’t the Fates put her out of her misery? For some reason, a smidgeon of hope still lingered in her soul—the belief that she would discover happiness.

  “You’re bound and determined to get us killed, aren’t you?” Heath’s tone carried more than anger. It held contempt. “Stay out of the goddamn water.”

  She lifted her head to glare at him, but he’d already stalked away.

  Chapter 4

  Owen poked at the glowing remains of the coals, keeping Heléna in his peripheral vision. She’d lain on her skirt and fallen asleep within seconds of arriving at the site Heath had chosen for their camp. She hadn’t awakened when the aroma of grilled fish wafted up from the cook fire. Neither had Heath joined him for supper.

  The animosity between his friend and their female castaway had spiraled out of control in the few short hours since Heath had discovered her on the plane. He’d all but blamed her for every aspect of their predicament—the crash, the lack of food and water, the shark incident.

  Heath had directed his anger at her for pretty obvious reasons. Gut-deep fear had shown through the sparks he’d aimed at her when he told her to stay out of the water. Calling her “doll” kept her at arm’s distance with the reminder of his unpleasant experience with pilot-infatuated sluts. His superstitions about the area didn’t help, but an unwanted attraction sealed the deal.

  Without a doubt, Heléna struggled with the same reluctance to let fascination lure her into the clutches of a man who openly seemed to despise her. Owen didn’t attempt to deny the twinge of jealousy that, although she’d sought comfort from him, she hadn’t offered any hint that she desired him. Not that any of it mattered. If no one found them soon, they’d all die from dehydration. One day without water would become two far too quickly.

  “Any fish left?” Heath’s gruff question came as he sat in the shadows of the pines, out of the circle of light cast by the embers.

  Owen nodded, holding out the stick with a headless grilled fish skewered on it. “You can have the rest. I saved some of mine for Heléna.”

  “I thought she was going to die. I’ve never been so scared in my life, not even when the engine cut out.” His voice cracked, and Heath bowed his head, cradling it in his palms.

  “Yeah, me too.” Pushing to his feet, Owen carried the scant supper to his friend. “I can still see the sheer panic on her face. I doubt I’ll ever forget it. Here. Eat.”

  Keeping Heléna in sight, he settled beside Heath. They sat in silence while Heath picked at his dinner.

  “You know, we’re in big trouble if nobody comes looking for us.” Heath shoved another piece of fish in his mouth.

  “I know. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

  “I went to see if I could get some supplies from the plane, but it already washed off the shelf.”

  Springing up, Owen cuffed Heath upside the head. “You stupid son of a bitch! There’s a shark out there waiting for one of us to volunteer to be its next meal. And you had the nerve to yell at Heléna for going in the water?”

  A whimper from near the fire had Owen scowling at his friend and stalling midstep. Heléna shifted on the makeshift bed as she curled into a fetal position, another soft groan drifting to him. The curve of her hip drew his eyes. God, but he’d love to lie down with her, molding his body around hers.

  “Quit staring at her ass.” Heath’s hiss broke the spell she’d cast on Owen. “She’s too damn innocent for either one of us.”

  So there it is—the closest thing to an admission of interest I’ll get. “Speak for yourself.”

  “I’m not talking about sex.” Heath stood, slipping on his shirt. “She looks at everything like she’s never seen it before. Yeah, she’s probably a virgin, but the way she stares out at the ocean...”

  Owen had noticed her fascination with the blue-green water that stretched past the horizon. Considering he and Heath had flown out of Miami, she had to have seen the Atlantic when she’d boarded. Maybe the color surrounding the Bahamas was new to her.

  “No! I can’t!” Heléna thrashed in her sleep, panting as she moved her arms and legs like she was running. “Find the triangle!”

  Heath led the rush to her side, gathering her now-trembling body onto his lap as he sank to the ground. “Wake up, Heléna. It’s okay.”

  His soothing tone did nothing to calm her. “My destiny! Take me there!”

  Owen stroked her hair, hoping the nightmare passed quickly. Her frantic words didn’t make any sense.

  She let out a cry similar to the one that had drawn his and Heath’s attention to her presence on the plane. Her arms flew up to cover her head
. “Can’t be it. Wrong place.”

  Pulling her closer, Heath trapped her arms against his chest. “Shh, you’re safe. We won’t let anything hurt you.”

  “Keep making mistakes.” Panic turned to resignation, and she slumped into Heath. “Not one of them.”

  Not one of them? What did she mean? Owen hated the helplessness in her voice, but he couldn’t even feed his need to console her. His best friend had usurped that duty.

  Pushing aside his fantasies of her waking up in his arms and showing gratitude for chasing away her bad dreams, Owen added a piece of wood to the fire. As much as Heath and Heléna snarled at each other, the basic mutual desire couldn’t be missed. Stepping back was Owen’s only choice. With a few days left to live, he wouldn’t jeopardize a life-long friendship for a woman—no matter how badly he wanted her.

  Flames licked at the bleached limb, expanding the ring of illumination. Night descended quickly as the sun set on the other side of the pines, bringing an eerie dusk to the island. The moon hung on the edge of the horizon, only a tiny sliver of the round orb peeking above the ocean. Without it, they would’ve been steeped in darkness. Winter in the Bahamas boasted mild temperatures, but nightfall came early. If he could see his watch in the dim light, it would probably read about five thirty or six o’clock.

  “You!” Heléna’s accusation and a scuffle told Owen she’d finally awakened. “Don’t touch me.”

  Not in the mood to play referee, he waited for the inevitable exchange of insults. He resisted turning around when more rustling sounded behind him.

  “Fine, I won’t touch you.” Heath stalked to the fire, sitting across from Owen. His fierce frown spoke loud and clear about his displeasure at her demand. “Women.”

  “What did you say?” She came to stand within the halo of light, her fists perched on her hips. The long flowing skirt now hid her body from the waist down, but her stiff nipples poked at the thin fabric of her top.