by Lyn Horner
“Turn around,” he said, forcing her to stiffen her wobbly legs as he nudged her to do so. He soaped his hands again and gently washed her back. When his fingers slid lower, dipping between her nether cheeks, she caught her breath, emitting a strangled sound, and leaned her arms on the wall to stay upright. By the time he finished his ministrations, she was gasping and on the brink of another climax.
“Okay, rinse off, then you can wash me,” he said in a strained voice.
She pressed her forehead against the cool tile wall for a moment, fighting to gain control of her body. She needed all of her will power to turn and face him. Finding him watching her expectantly, she swallowed hard, quickly rinsed then picked up the soap.
Her task was by no means repugnant. Quite the contrary, she took pleasure in soaping his powerful chest and arms, and when she took his tumescent member in her soapy hands, gently caressing its length, his sharply inhaled breath and the hands that suddenly gripped her shoulders gave her a sense of power she’d never experienced with a man before.
“Enough,” Leon gasped, moving her hands away. He turned up his face to the brisk spray, letting it wash the soap from his body. Then he drew Delilah close and kissed her thoroughly. When she was ready to melt once again, he grasped her bottom and lifted her high. “Wrap your legs around me and hang on.” She did, and he lowered her onto his thick shaft, pushing all the way to the mouth of her womb.
She threw her head back, taking shallow breaths, feeling the most wondrous sense of being totally filled and one with this amazing man.
“Are you okay?” he asked, showing the concern that made him special.
“Oui, oui! You just feel so . . . so magnifique.”
“That sounds like a compliment,” he said with a chuckle that reverberated through her body. Then he started to move her up and down on him, and neither of them were capable of speech for long, rapturous moments.
By the time they dried off and dressed, it was late morning. Staring out the window at the street several stories below, Delilah said, “There’s no snow but the sky is cloudy. Perhaps we should have risen early and been off to wherever we are going.”
“Un-uh. We are not going anywhere today,” Leon said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “The past few days were long and difficult. We need a rest.” He kissed the side of her neck. “You’re stuck with me for a while longer.”
Glad to be ‘stuck’ with him, she smiled to herself.
“I’m famished,” he said in a brisk tone. “You want to get something to eat? There’s a restaurant downstairs. I saw a sign in the lobby last night.”
“Oui, I am hungry, too.” Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she caressed his big, masculine hands with her much smaller ones. “After we eat, we can look around the hotel. I wonder if they have an indoor pool. It would be fun to go for a swim, non?”
“I don’t know about that. I’m not much of a swimmer.”
She turned in his arms. “You’re not afraid to get in the water, are you? A big strong man like you?” she teased with a mischievous grin.
He scowled. “No, I am not afraid, but I grew up in a desert land. A creek runs near my home, but it often dries up, so I never did much swimming.”
“Oh, well, perhaps I can teach you a few things, n’est-ce pas?” Rubbing her nose playfully in the hollow of his throat, she hummed at the clean, soapy scent of him.
“Woman, you make me crazy,” he growled, gripping her arm and turning her toward the door. “Let’s go before I forget my need for food.”
Delilah laughed, once again enjoying her power over him. Taking his hand, she swung their arms back and forth playfully, feeling like a fresh young girl, managing to drag a laugh out of him as he led her to the elevator. They ate a late breakfast in the restaurant then went exploring. The hotel did indeed have an indoor pool, and while Leon was still reluctant, he gave in to her excited pleas to try it out. She bought them swimsuits and a lacy coverup for herself in the hotel boutique, then they returned to their room to change and went back down to the pool.
Several people were either in the water or sat relaxing in deck chairs. Smiling at a couple with two young children splashing and playing in the shallow end of the pool, Delilah removed her coverup and tossed it on a chair along with a couple towels. Adjusting the straps of her conservative black-and-white, one-piece suit, she glanced at Leon, who stood eyeing the scene without removing the shirt he wore over his swim trunks. A scowl framed his lips.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I will look a fool in front of these strangers . . . and you.”
“Non!” Shaking her head, she stepped close and laid her hand on his arm. “Mon amour, you could never look a fool to me, and they . . .” She waved at the other people. “. . . they do not matter. Still, I am sorry for pushing you to do this. Let’s forget it.” She made a move to gather up her things, but he stopped her, touching her shoulder.
“No, we are here now, and you are right, no one matters but us.” He crooked his lips. “Just don’t laugh at me. Not too loudly, anyway.” Unbuttoning his shirt, he cast it aside, walked to the edge of the pool and jumped in. His head went under for a second or two then bobbed up. Wiping water from his eyes, he lay back, floating. “Well, are you coming in?”
She grinned, held her nose and took a running leap into the water, coming up near him. “Oh, it feels wonderful!” she cried.
He chuckled. “Yes, it does. So, do you want to see how I swim?”
“Naturellement. Show me what you can do.”
“You asked for it.” Flipping onto his stomach, he proceeded to dogpaddle half way across the pool, turn and paddle back, holding his head above the water. Fortunately, no one got in his way, although Delilah did notice a few amused glances aimed at him.
“That’s a very nice dogpaddle,” she said, lips quivering in amusement when he reached her. “What else can you do?”
“That’s it. I told you I’m not much of a swimmer.” He grabbed onto the edge of the pool deck, breathing hard.
“Okay, let me show you a simple breast stroke. Then you can try it.” Seeing his eyebrows shoot up and his lips twitch, she shook her finger at him. “No risqué comments if you please. Now observe and learn.” With that, she set off across the pool, demonstrating the provocatively named stroke to the best of her ability. Swimming back, she treaded water beside Leon, wiping water from her face.
“You swim very well. I like watching you,” he said, tracing her jawline with his fingertip.
“Merci.” She smiled. “Now it’s your turn.”
He shook his head. “I’ll never be able to swim like that.”
“Nonsense. You merely need to try and keep trying until you master it.” Giving him no time for further protests, she instructed him in how to glide forward, arms extended and face in the water. He grumbled but did as she said. Once he had that part down, she demonstrated how to kick properly.
He had trouble putting the two aspects of the stroke together. “I’ll never get this,” he complained after his third try.
“Yes, you will. Keep trying,” she ordered sternly.
Sighing, he attempted the maneuver again, making it a little farther through the water before his kick faltered and he bobbed upright, disgust written on his face.
“Again,” Delilah called. She kept at him until, suddenly, everything clicked. Fingers crossed, hardly daring to breathe, she watched him swim all the way across the pool. When he reached the far side, he caught the edge, turned to face her and pumped the air with his fist, a huge grin on his face, making her give a whoop of victory.
“You’re a good teacher,” a male voice said from somewhere behind her.
Turning in the water, Delilah looked up to see a man standing on the deck, watching her and Leon. “Thank you, but my . . . friend did all the work,” she replied, not caring for the way he leered at her.
“With you directing him. I could use some lessons myself
. Are you available?”
“No, she is not,” came Leon’s cold reply as he swam up to her.
“Too bad,” the man sneered. “I bet you could teach me a lot, and maybe I could teach you a few things.” He winked at Delilah and strutted away.
Leon snarled and started to hoist himself from the water, ready to go after the insulting pig. She clutched his arm, stopping him.
“He is not worth getting into a fight. Let’s go back to our room. I have had enough of swimming.” When he continued to glare at the man’s retreating figure, she said, “Leon, please, do not let him ruin our time together.”
Tension easing, he smiled and nodded. “You are right, querida, he’s not worth it. And we have better things to do.”
Climbing from the pool, they wrapped towels around themselves and went to their room, where they found much better ways to spend the day.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Having set the alarm, Leon woke at 6 a.m. and roused Delilah with a good morning kiss. She tried to coax him into making love one more time, but he resisted, reminding her they needed to get moving. Last night, he had disclosed they would be driving south through Utah to the Navajo Nation, where the other Guardians were holed up. With weather predictions favorable, they’d agreed to get an early start today.
Thus, a half-hour later, they were showered and dressed. Foregoing breakfast until they’d traveled partway, they packed their few belongings. Leon called the helicopter storage facility in Chinle, Arizona, and left another message for his daughter, saying he and Delilah were on their way and should arrive late in the day.
Meanwhile, Delilah called an auto rental agency, gave them her French driver’s license and credit card numbers, and arranged to have a car with four-wheel drive – at Leon’s request in case they ran into bad roads – brought to the hotel. A short while later, they sat ensconced in a large, dark blue sedan, with him behind the wheel.
“You told me you do not often drive and don’t even have a license,” Delilah said accusingly as he started the engine. “Now you insist on driving. Why?”
He smiled. “Because I know the route. We will be traveling through mountains and there might be ice or snow on the roads in some places.” He pulled away from the hotel. “And remember I also told you I used to drive a lot. Years ago, I was a long-haul trucker.” Glancing at her, he saw her eyes widen in surprise. “I drove eighteen-wheelers through these mountains many times, including in winter.”
“Th-that is impressive, but why did you not tell me before?”
“I did not think it important,” he said with a shrug.
After a silence, she asked, “You took up farming after you stopped driving trucks?”
“No. I grew up helping my folks tend their orchard and livestock. By the time they joined our ancestors, Yolanda and I were wed. We worked the farm together, but as our family grew, I saw I could not give them a good life by only growing peaches and raising a few sheep and cattle. So, I left my wife to care for the children and our land while I earned money driving the big rigs.”
“Being apart so much must have been difficult for both of you.”
“It was, but we managed to build a modern house and send our son and three daughters to college.” He paused before adding, “Some of my people want no part of the white man’s world, but I believe we can take what we need from that world and still honor our traditions.”
Delilah studied her hands, picking bits of red from her once perfectly painted fingernails. “What of me? Will you take me from the white world?” She looked up, sorrel eyes piercing him when he glanced at her, stunned by her question.
He returned his gaze to the early morning traffic. With his heart racing and his mouth dry, he asked, “Do you wish me to?”
“If I might bring you back to my world part of the time, then yes.”
Too shaken to drive, Leon maneuvered to the curb and put the car in park. Then he turned to look Delilah square in the eyes. Taking her hand, he said in a raspy voice, “I want you for my woman, Delilah Moreau. If you wish us to divide our life between your native land and mine, I agree as long as we are together.”
Breath catching, she said, “You have made me happy, Leon Tseda, when I expected never to know happiness again. I love you with all my heart. I will be your woman for as long as we live.”
His chest tightened. Reaching for her, he leaned close and kissed her, trying to show how he felt. When he could bear to speak, he whispered into her honeyed mouth, “You have beguiled me, my beautiful, sweet witch. I love you.”
She smiled, glowing like the sun. “It is you who have beguiled me, my handsome Navajo warrior.”
He started to kiss her again but heard laughter. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw two young women standing on the sidewalk, watching Delilah and him, snickering and whispering to each other. He gave them a wry smile, they waved and scurried away.
“We drew an audience,” Delilah said, sounding amused.
“Yes, it’s time to move on.” Dropping a parting kiss on her lips, he let her go, put the car in gear and set out again. They spoke little but exchanged loving glances often as he navigated out of the city, heading south down the Jordan Valley toward Provo and beyond.
* * *
Balor grabbed his phone on the first ring, seeing the caller was his man in Denver, now in Salt Lake City. “Yes,” he snapped. “What’s happening?”
“Master, it is your servant John. I am calling to tell you the woman and her companion are on the move. They left the hotel early in a car, a rental, I believe. Now they are driving south on Highway I-15.”
“You’re following them?”
“Yes, Master. We are staying well back as you ordered but keeping them always in sight.”
“Excellent. Stay on their tail and let me know if they change course.”
“As you command, Master.”
Balor clicked off, well pleased. By the end of the day, perhaps he would know where Delilah Moreau was going. He hoped she was on her way to meet the other Guardians. Capturing them all in one fell swoop would be cause for celebration. All except Lara Flewellen and the man she was seeking in far-off Kenya, that is, but they would soon be his as well. He had sent some of his best men after them. They knew failure to carry out their mission was not an option.
He rubbed his gloved hands together. It was only a matter of time before he held the ancient scrolls and, with them, the power and riches he had long dreamed of. Then he would take pleasure in avenging the wrongs done to him by Malcolm Flewellen, his niece and the rest of the world.
* * *
Delilah was glad Leon had insisted on driving. It freed her to take in the sights. “What are those mountains called?” she asked, admiring the snow-capped peaks directly to the east as they traveled south from Salt Lake City. To the west, Leon had pointed out a glimpse of the Great Salt Lake in the distance.
“Those are the Wasatch,” he said. “They are part of the Rocky Mountains. We will follow them about halfway south through Utah, then cut east for a while before turning south again toward my homeland. The route is kind of rough in places but it’s the best I know.”
She leaned close and kissed his copper cheek. “I trust your judgement, mon amour, as you trusted mine in France.” Receiving a pleased smile in reply, she gazed out her window as they traveled through smaller communities and past farm fields.
They had been on the road barely a half-hour when Leon’s empty stomach made a loud complaint. Intercepting his uncomfortable grin, she laughed. “You growl like a starving lion. I am hungry too. Can we stop to eat?”
Chuckling, he nodded. “Sure. We are coming to Provo. It’s a good-size city with decent places to eat. We will stop there.”
True to his word, he located a restaurant that offered friendly service and delicious food. Not used to huge American breakfasts, Delilah only managed to eat about half of her eggs, sausage and hashbrown potatoes, but Leon polished off his and the rest of hers with gusto. Shaking he
r head in amazement, she told him she needed to get something from her suitcase as they walked out to the car.
He obliged by opening the trunk, waiting while she rummaged through her clothes, found the small, bluish metal tube she sought and slipped it into her shoulder bag. Leon asked no questions, although he did give her a curious look. She let him wonder until they left Provo behind, entering a less populated area. Then she retrieved the tube from her bag.
“You are my true mate now, Leon,” she said with an adoring smile, “so you have a right to know exactly what I am sworn to guard.”
He eyed the tube in her lap. “You honor me, querida. As I told you before, I will never reveal your secret.”
“I know you won’t, mon amour.” Clearing her throat, she said, “To begin, each prophesy we Guardians protect describes a vision of terrible times to come.”
“Sounds like something from the Bible, like stories we were taught in Catholic school when I was a kid.”
“Mmm, but our prophesies do not come from the Bible. They have been passed down since before the time of Christ from our ancestors who were blessed with the gift of foresight. They belonged to a legendary Irish race called the Tuatha Dé Danann, meaning People of the Goddess Danu. We believe she gave the prophesies to the ancient seers, commanding they not be disclosed until mankind is ready to listen.”
Leon arched an eyebrow. “How are you to know when that time comes?”
“I trust the Great Mother will guide us.” Shrugging, she held up the blue tube. “This container holds the prophesy I guard. Do you wish me to read it to you?”
He glanced at her then looked to the road ahead. “We are one now. It is my duty to share your burdens. Read the prophesy.”
“Very well.” Pleased by his commitment to her, she unscrewed one end of the tube and carefully withdrew the precious parchment scroll. Unfurling it, she cleared her throat and began to read the ancient text Malcolm Flewellen had taught her to translate, taking over her father’s duty after his early death – years before they’d become lovers.