Ari hadn’t been blind to the tight expressions of her older female colleagues or the fleeting wolfish glances from male colleagues when she dressed in something that silhouetted her lean, toned physique. She was proud of her body and worked hard to keep it healthy, and she made sure her clothing choices were always appropriate.
Eric had often treated her like a child, something she’d found endearing at first but later, demeaning. That was when the cracks began to expand, but she soldiered on, believing their relationship was somehow special.
What would the other profs have thought about her and Eric? And now, based on what she knew, what would they think of him? Maybe they knew and were okay with it. Who was he really? And who were they?
None of the other profs were what she would consider friends, so why had she taken their jealous comments and obvious exclusions to heart? I wanted to fit in.
In her short time in Guatemala, she was making friends, chief among them Meg. They had talked and laughed nonstop late into the night in their shared room at Lanquín’s hostel. They summarized the high points of their PhDs—Ari’s in anthropology and Meg’s just awarded in botany. They filled one another in about their families. Ari—an only child. Meg—an only girl with five older brothers and one younger. They compared where they’d grown up. Ari in a densely populated western suburb of Chicago. Meg on her family’s sheep station in Queensland, Australia. As they moved into sharing memories of their childhoods and adolescence in the States and Australia, their conversation was claimed by sleep.
After breakfast, they had boarded the bus to Flores, traveling most of the day. Brief naps punctuated easy conversation and snacks. Meg informed her that the last in their group, someone from South Africa, should be arriving sometime today, after missing a connection that cascaded into a two-day delay. Ari meant to ask about the people responsible for overseeing the interdisciplinary team, but she had grown drowsy again and fallen asleep, waking when Meg jostled her shoulder upon arriving in Flores.
Yawning loudly, Ari had said, “Yesterday was a great day, Meg. Perfect. Spending time with you in Semuc Champey was a blast. And today was nice, when I was awake, I mean…”
“You have no problem sleeping, do you?” Meg asked, laughing.
She fell asleep easily and slept soundly on all transportation. Her parents teased her about it, when she brought a stack of books on vacation, pointing out she might as well pack them with everything else in the trunk; she would be asleep in mere minutes. “I don’t. It’s a life habit. I’ve always slept well when traveling. Mom and Papa said going places with me was so easy because I never asked ‘Are we there yet?’”
“Lucky you,” Meg said wistfully. “We didn’t travel a lot because of the station, but I asked constantly when we did. And my brothers got into a lot of trouble. They were a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic—”
“What?”
“Oh, they did a lot of things without thinking,” Meg said, sounding amused. “Boys.” She shook her head and laughed ruefully. “Sometimes Dad had to stop on the side of the road and give them the what-for. Mum sat in the car with me, wringing her hands in worry. They returned somber or laughing, never crying. I guess it was okay.”
The brakes protested as the bus came to a stop. Meg and Ari rose from their seats and ambled outside. While waiting on their bags to appear from the luggage compartments underneath, Ari stretched. “I signed on for this project in part to disappear. I arrived unprepared, but now I’m inspired. I’ve some catching up to do.”
“What are you running from, Ari?”
“Hey! There’s Matt. And Joan,” she said, pointing and waving.
Meg waved at Joan and Matt, then spun back to Ari. “Sounds like we have an interesting topic to discuss.”
“Oh, Meg, I’m sorry. It kinda slipped out. Forget it. Not important.”
“You protest too much. Apparently, it is, and we will visit it soon.” Meg reached over and hugged her. Noticing Ari’s concerned look, she said, “It’s okay. Really. And I promise that you will feel much better after talking to me. I’m an expert listener, as you already know, and I can be trusted with what you share. Deal?”
Ari looked into the bright sky-blue eyes of her new friend. Feeling brave, she nodded. “Yes. Thanks, Meg.”
The alarm on Ari’s phone went off, jarring her from her long reverie. She had dinner downstairs with Meg in an hour and plenty of time to unpack, organize her room, and treat herself to a leisurely shower. The corners of Ari’s sun-kissed lips turned upward.
“Ari, over here!” Meg gestured, her blond ponytail bobbing. She sparkled with enthusiasm. Next to her stood a freshly showered Matt.
“Hey! Hi, Matt. Are we it?” Ari said.
Matt laughed, his merry brown eyes matching the color of his unruly mop of dark hair. “Hey, Ari. You look freshly laundered. I saw Miguel, James, Keaton, Sandra, Zhou, Joan, and, oh man… I forgot their names—”
Meg broke in. “No worries, Matty. You’ll soon know them well enough.” Facing Ari, she said, “I hope you don’t mind? I went ahead and asked that the tables be moved closer together so that we can have a Welcome to Petén party of sorts. Aren’t the showers cracker?”
Ari cocked her head and frowned. “Huh?”
“Um, that’s Aussie for great. Gotcha again.”
“You did. I’ve got to get my Aussie on. And yes, my shower was wonderful.” Ari laughed, noticing Meg was talking a mile a minute.
Meg nodded at Ari’s khaki skirt. “Adorable.”
“It’s my favorite, thanks. Washes and dries like a charm.”
“My climbing gear works the same, sweat and then dry. Of course, I launder it between.” Meg’s smile brightened at Matt.
The dark frames of Matt’s glasses did not hide his interest in Meg. Ari looked around the room to hide her giggle, decorated with maps and photos of the Petén jungle and Tikal. Colleagues strolled in, mingling, drinks in hand. A few glowed pink, likely due to time around the pool. She realized they had had extra time to forge relationships. Everyone from Cobán appeared to be present, except Luca.
“Is everyone here?” she asked.
Matt said, “I believe so. I did a quick head count.” He raised his beer. “I’m famished. Let’s go socialize and eat.” He extended his arm out to guide them.
Meg slid her arm loosely through his and moved closer. Ari fell in behind them, noticing they were of similar height and build, one blond and one dark, both lean and wiry.
Ari was relieved that Luca was not present, and if she was being honest, disappointed too.
The voices of her colleagues faded as Ari strolled farther from the gathering. She passed through the empty lobby en route to the stairs, relaxed and sleepy, although she had napped on the bus earlier. Eating more than she usually did at dinner had not helped.
Adrenaline, fueled by small talk, dissipated with each step she took. By the time she was at the top of the stairs, she was definitely more than ready for bed. The door to her room was down the balconied hall, past the right turn, at the dead end.
Persimmon-colored stucco walls held recessed spaces painted bright turquoise between every two rooms and frequently housed sitting areas with carved benches or chairs or an arrangement of planters. The recessed area next to her room was vacant. She planned to inquire about that tomorrow, ask if the hotel had an extra bench, chair, or even better, a hammock. Rings for a hammock were already mounted in the facing walls.
She was rounding the corner when she heard her name spoken softly. She slowed, paused, and shook her head. Man, I’m really tired. Now I’m hearing voices.
“Good evening, Ari. Are you ending your day early?” Luca materialized out of the shadow near the other set of stairs, stepping in, facing her closely. His eyes glowed in the moon’s subdued light. Forced to look up, she was reminded of how he dwarfed her. His expression was what Nana said when she thought Ari got away with something as a child, reminiscent of the cat that swallowed the canary. The air
sparked with electricity. A hint of a smile engaged his eyes. Ari’s heart fluttered. She parted her lips.
His smile deepened. His hair was half-down and half pulled into a ponytail. Sexy as hell.
Ari stammered, “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day of travel. I’m ready to settle in.”
“That is a pity.”
“Why is my turning in for the night a pity?”
“Because I enjoy your company, but I upset you. I want to know you much better. I missed you today.”
He wants to know me better. Her breath quickened. What the hell is wrong with me? “Why do you say you upset me?”
“Cobán. Semuc Champey.”
“I was a bit reactive.”
“Pickly.”
Ari laughed, thankful for the release of tension. “Prickly, yes. And coming out of nowhere, well, it surprised me.”
“English words. Confusing at times.” His genuine smile exposed straight white teeth. His eyes twinkled with mischief. It was a handsome face full of character and confidence. “Why are you prickly?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “It’s a long story. One I don’t care to share right now.”
Luca shrugged in acquiescence. “Fine. Are you too tired to take a short walk with me?” His movement stretched the tee skimming his muscled shoulders and chest.
She stared, as if spellbound, eventually becoming aware of the silence. Luca wore a shit-eating grin on his face, totally aware of his effect on her.
Ari’s annoyance was diffused by his charm and her curiosity. She struggled for composure, asking, “Where?” For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong with me? That is not what I meant to say.
“There is a lovely promenade that runs next to our hotel, along the lake.” His raised eyebrows changed the explanation to a question.
Her hands grew damp, and her heart stuttered again. She was so attracted to him it hurt.
“I am not a bad man. Truly.” He reached forward and touched her tenderly on the cheek with his fingers.
Her breath caught from the heat of his fingers, and her nerve endings ignited. Huskiness tinged her voice. “It’s late. I think I’d rather stay here.”
“You would?” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Hm.”
This is safer. I think. Nodding, she said, “Yes. We could…” She stared at his lips, her tongue tracing hers, unable to form any more words, wanting. Just a taste.
“Come with me?” Luca’s smile was slow and tender as he took her hand and gently led her into the recessed area.
Her heart was pounding, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. “Yes,” she whispered, willingly following.
Sighing, he slowly pulled her to him. Luca angled his head, pressing his forehead to hers. His hands cupped the sides of her neck and his thumbs stroked her jaw as he continued to look into her eyes.
Resting her forehead against Luca’s anchored Ari. His feather-soft touches played havoc with her trippy senses. And his eyes… they held her. Made her ache. Made her want more. Something shifted inside Ari and opened.
He inhaled. “You smell wonderful.” The tips of his fingers brushed the back of her neck as he tangled his fingers in her hair. “Your hair is beautiful. Soft. Sexy as hell.” He drew back, his eyes half-closed and kissed her temple delicately, then paused to gauge her reaction, like a large patient cat.
She leaned into him, yearning. Letting go.
He continued, his lips moved lower, grazing her cheek and neck.
She craned her head back, basking in the sensations exploding through her body, bowing her neck, giving him more skin to kiss. Her lips had a mind of their own and parted, inviting him in. The smoldering heat of his eyes registered before she closed hers. Trembling with desire, Ari surrendered, opening her mouth further to deepen the kiss. She parted her legs, aching to feel more of his rigid length. His hand cupped her breast and thumbed her hard nipple under her tank top.
He broke the kiss to whisper, “Mm… no bra… nice…” Emboldened, he slid his other palm down the back of her naked knee. “I like your skirt,” he murmured against her lips and then kissed her deeply again.
Her tongue answered Luca’s. His hand moved upward, leisurely, his fingertips tracing lightly along her hamstring, setting her skin tingling in their wake. He brushed the lace of her panties. She moaned softly and reached up, threading her fingers through his hair. It felt so good. She ached for him to quit teasing her.
He moved his lips back to her ear, nipping the lobe. “Damn. Lace—” He groaned, his voice breaking as his fingers languorously stroked the lace, her inner thigh. “Are you wet?”
“Ye—”
Laughter and footsteps snapped them out of their steamy embrace.
“Hey, Ari! Luca! How was the meeting? All set for tomorrow?” Matt asked, his expression perplexed as he glanced back and forth between Luca and Ari hidden partially behind him.
Luca cleared his throat, allowing Ari a smidge more time to pull herself together. “Good evening. Everyone is now here. Natasha has arrived, and our meeting was productive. All of the team will convene after breakfast, as planned. My plan is to be concise so that the team can enjoy the afternoon off since we leave early for Tikal the next morning.”
Ari reeled. No. Incredulity quickly chilled any remaining desire. She moved to Luca’s side but kept her distance. “Hi, you two. We were having a talk.”
Amusement covered Meg’s face. “Some talk,” she said, giggling.
With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Ari faced Luca, inquiring, “You seem to know an awful lot about the logistics of our project. Just what is your specialty? And what exactly are you doing on the project?”
His steely expression was devoid of his earlier smoldering desire, his tone now all business. “I research and teach as a medical anthropologist. I oversee our time here.”
“I don’t understand.” Confused, she cocked her head and looked from him to Meg, whose face was wreathed in a huge smile.
“Ari, meet our boss.”
Ari compressed and flipped her pillow over for the hundredth time. Unquenched desire had driven her to toss and turn for hours—Luca’s kisses and touches and her passionate responses played over and over in her mind. He had awoken a part of her that she’d been unaware of; its existence felt primal. She had fever for him. She had never felt this insatiable gnawing before.
Humiliation and anger kept her awake as well. The startling fact that Luca was her boss bothered her immensely. Her face burned when she remembered how she had abruptly fled to her room, ignoring Luca, Meg, and Matt’s pleas—the action of a petulant child. Anger gave way to embarrassment as she reflected.
The blame for not knowing who Luca was fell to her. She hadn’t read the CVs. Had she, well, maybe that would that have curbed her interest since his position as her boss would have deemed him entirely off-limits. But now she was in a pickle. She had dropped her defenses and willingly tasted and touched him.
Luca was sex on a stick. Their dance of intimacy had begun, and her entire body electrified with anticipation. He was in her blood, and she was hooked. Another wave of desire rode through her body. She was in deep doo-doo.
Ari sat up and pushed back her thick hair from her face, framing her face with her hands and closing her eyes. What am I going to do? She grabbed her watch—2:25. She had to pull herself together, get some sleep. The team meeting was at nine. Her alarm was set to go off in five hours, just enough time for a shower and breakfast. Ari closed her eyes again. She willed the fringes of sleep to appear. After ten minutes, she gave up and threw back the covers and flipped on the overhead light, blinking to adjust her eyes. She took a deep breath for fortification and opened the closet door, pulled out her duffel, and grabbed one of her sandals, just in case. After unzipping the duffel, she turned it upside down and shook it. The crushed letter fell to the floor. She kicked at the letter a few times. Convinced it was free of creepy-crawlers, especially the eight-legged kind, she dropped the sandal next to its mat
e and picked up the letter.
Smoothing out the wrinkles, she concentrated on Eric’s writing—a combination of block and cursive, which made it difficult to read even though she had glossed over his research notes numerous times at his request. Her stomach tightened and ached. Repeated swallowing did nothing to push the burning to her throat. Ari dropped the letter and ran for the bathroom. Stomach roiling, she dropped to her knees just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
Sweating profusely and heart pounding, she rolled to her side, curling up on the cool tile. She hugged her stomach and sucked in air, trying to relax the cramping in her stomach, determined to move past this. She rose after she was sure the nausea had passed and rinsed her mouth with watered-down toothpaste.
Back in her room she chugged half the water in her bottle on the bedside table and plunked down on the tangled sheets with the letter. Her heart still raced as she focused on her task, fingers fidgeting with the hummingbird nestled at the base of her throat. Eric’s voice spoke in her head as she read his words.
Dear Ariana,
I miss you. I miss us.
False words. Lying words.
You weren’t a fling, well, not like you think. I cared deeply about you. In fact, I still do.
At that, she rolled her eyes, refuting his words, shouting, “Unbelievable! What utter bullshit!” Although her room was at the end of the hall and shared a wall with only one room—Meg’s room—she paused and listened, wondering if she might have disturbed her friend. All was quiet.
The memory of discovering Eric’s deceit replayed in her head. She saw him clearly in her mind—sitting at a round silver-topped table in the back of the shop, smiling broadly, his arm casually draped around an equally blond woman’s shoulders, engaged in a conversation with two towheaded teenaged girls.
Her step faltered when she saw them, just enough that she slammed her toe into the metal trash can next to the door, slicing it open.
Eric, the woman, and the teens looked in the direction of Ari’s yelp. His expression turned flinty before turning away and drawing the woman deeper into his embrace and speaking into her ear. Her face flushed as she looked up at Eric with adoration. Bright reflections from the rings on the woman’s left hand reflected against the store walls and ceiling as she brushed his face, laughing in response. Wife. Eric was married. Ari stumbled out, trailing blood out of the store, not remembering any of her bike ride back to her apartment.
Afraid to Fall (Ancient Passages Book 1) Page 6