Hidden Agenda

by Rochelle Alers

  He withdrew from her almost immediately and turned away. Without seeing, she knew the convulsions shaking his body were not from passion but from internal forces which would not allow him peace.

  “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. But if you don’t, I’ll understand,” she stated gently.

  Matt shifted, cradling her to his side. His right arm pillowed his head. The tension in his body eased slightly and she turned and slipped her leg over his. He inhaled deeply, then let out his breath slowly.

  “I have to send you back.” The six words sounded like a sentence of death. “Cord’s going to come for you in two days.”

  “Why?” she asked. The single word sounded like a sob.

  “Harry Blackwell wants you home.”

  Eve blinked back tears in the darkness of the bedroom. “Why, Matt? Why?” she repeated.

  “You can’t remain here. It’s too dangerous.”

  His words didn’t frighten her as much as the way he’d said them—in a lifeless monotone.

  “What about Chris?” She couldn’t stop the tears forming behind her eyelids.

  “I’ll find him, Eve,” Matt said, trying to reassure her.

  She nodded, brushing her fingers over her eyes and cheeks. She turned her face into his shoulder. “I believe you. I trust you.”

  “I want you to love me,” he demanded. “If you love me I’ll make it,” he continued in an almost pleading tone.

  Eve tried swallowing the lump which had formed in her throat. Realization dawned. Matt was afraid. Not for her, but for himself.

  Pulling away from him, she sat up. “You’re involved in something which has nothing to do with my son, aren’t you?”

  Matt also sat up. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She rose to her knees. “If I don’t know what I’m talking about, then why don’t you answer my question? What are you involved in?”

  “It doesn’t concern you, Eve.”

  She was too incensed to register the warning in his voice. “Tell me, Mateo.” Leaning over, she turned on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with light.

  Matt reached out and pulled her across his body. “No,” he shouted, his hot breath searing her face.

  “Does it have anything to do with Alex?”

  His fingers sank painfully into the delicate flesh of her upper arms. “Listen, Eve, and listen good. Don’t—”

  “Don’t!” Eve screamed back at him. “It’s always ‘don’t ask me anything.’ Do you know what I think, Matt? I think you’ve used me. You have your own hidden agenda where you play your dirty little games, but with me you get an added bonus. You marry me, pretend that you love me, then get free use of my body. Now I know why you wouldn’t accept any money from me. I pay you every time I lie down with you, Mateo Arroyo. And I don’t come cheap. I’ve pleasured you at least a dozen times since I became Señora Mateo Arroyo, so consider yourself paid in full for services rendered!”

  Matt’s hands fell away, the blood draining from his face as rage hardened his features. His expression was a mask of stone. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he ground out through his teeth.

  Freed, she slipped off the bed and backpedaled to the door. “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

  Turning, she ran out of the bedroom and into the one she’d occupied when they first arrived in Puerto Angel, locking the door. She braced her back against the door, trembling. How could she have believed him? The tender words of love, the passion, and her response to his lovemaking?

  She’d fallen in love with him, shared her body with him, and could possibly be carrying his child. The cold lump forming in the pit of her stomach spread, chilling her until she shook uncontrollably.

  “Not again,” she whispered in a maelstrom of anguish and pain. First Alex, and now Matt. Was she destined to always pick the wrong husband?

  A thud hit the door, followed by Matt shouting, “Open the door!”

  Eve closed her eyes and pressed her fists against the solid wood. “Go away and leave me alone.”

  “Open the damn door or I’ll break it down,” he threatened.

  Naked and trembling she turned and faced the door. Matt’s duplicity dulled the pain and blinded her with rage. “I hope they kill you, and leave your body for the vultures.”

  There was complete silence before a heavy thud hit the door, then another, and with each thud Eve moved further away from the door until she stood beside the bed. There was a crash and the wood splintered, leaving the door hanging crazily by one hinge.

  Tilting her chin, Eve stared across the room at Matt standing in the doorway, praying her shaking legs would support her body, refusing to exhibit her fear. He had bullied her for the last time. She placed her hands on her hips and watched him walk slowly toward her.

  Eve’s eyes narrowed into slits as she measured each step Matt took, and she was certain that if she hadn’t been so incensed she would’ve been turned on by the man, who looked like a large stalking jungle cat. Tall, large, dark, and naked, Matt was a magnificent male predator.

  She took in the breadth of his shoulders, the bunched muscles in his upper arms, the power in his large hands, and the strength of his long, muscled legs, and she thought perhaps she’d pushed Matt too far. Her uncle hadn’t elaborately detailed Matthew Sterling’s exploits, but he had told her there were times when Matt did not need a weapon to subdue an opponent.

  Did he now see her as an opponent? Would he kill her to keep her from revealing that he was also Matthew Sterling? Would he stop and consider that maybe she was carrying his child?

  She swallowed hard, trying not to show her fear. Raising her hands, she beckoned, saying, “Come on, Mateo. You want trouble, you’ll get trouble. I know you want a piece of me,” she continued tauntingly.

  Matt halted, completely surprised by the unpredictable woman he’d pledged to love and protect. He was six-four and weighed a solid two hundred and eighteen pounds, and five-feet-seven-inch, one hundred eighteen pound Eve Arroyo-Sterling was challenging him. Men who matched his height and weight usually did not challenge Matthew Sterling.

  The pain of her wishing him dead eased, admiration and pride taking its place. “I should tie you to the bed and spend the next forty-eight hours making love to you,” he threatened quietly.

  “You’d never survive,” Eve countered. “You…” She never completed her statement as her breath was snatched from her lungs when he swept her off her feet.

  “At least I’d die happy.”

  Eve struggled in his unyielding grip. “You’ve proven your point, Mateo. You’re stronger than me.”

  He couldn’t believe it. He’d subdued her yet the naked she-cat was still spitting and clawing. What had he married?

  “Count yourself among the lucky ones, Preciosa.”

  She stared at his scowling features. “Why? Because you married me?”

  Matt’s expression softened, a small smile inching up the corners of his mouth. “No,” he said softly, “because I love you.”

  Without warning, just as he’d captured her, he released her, crossed the room and disappeared through the splintered door.

  Tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed. What had she said? How could she have wished him dead? She loved him; she loved him so much that she was as afraid for him as she was for her own child.

  Chapter 21

  Eve made it to the bed on trembling legs and sat down, tears distorting her vision. She felt more alone than she ever had in her life. Forty-eight hours. That was all she and Matt had left, and she was pushing him away from her.

  She didn’t want him to die; she didn’t want to leave him; all she wanted was to love Matt, love him until time ceased to exist for the both of them.

  Wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, Eve choked back a sob. How could she have gotten so used to Matt in less than two weeks of marriage? She had to swallow her pride and apologize to him.

  Slipping off the bed, Eve mad
e her way across the room before she could change her mind. She took two steps outside the bedroom and she saw him.

  Matt sat on the floor, eyes closed and his back pressed to the wall. He had put on a pair of jeans but left his chest bare. Shifting slightly, he opened his eyes and stared up at her.

  Eve’s heart halted, then pounded relentlessly. She recognized his pain and longing, feeling it as her own. His left hand came up slowly as he averted his face, and she knew that if she was going to reject him he didn’t want to see it.

  “Matt,” she cried, the sob coming from the back of her throat. She grasped his hand and he pulled her down to his lap.

  “Forty-eight hours, Preciosa. That’s all we have left,” he whispered near her ear.

  Turning on his lap, Eve pressed her mouth to his throat. “I love you, Matt. I love you so much.”

  He smiled down at her. “Thank you, Mrs. Sterling, because I love you, too.”

  “I’m sorry I said what I did about wishing you dead.”

  “Shh-hh, Baby. It’s all right. I can understand your frustration. I want to tell you what I’m involved in, but I can’t. If you know too much it might put you in jeopardy.”

  Eve moved closer, one arm curving around his neck. “There’s no way I can stay here with you?”

  “No way, Eve. If I could keep you here and protect you I would.”

  “Not even if I throw a tantrum?”

  Matt forced a smile. “Not even a tantrum will make me change my mind.” Slipping an arm under her legs, he lifted her and rose to his feet. “If I defy your uncle I’ll lose whatever protection I’ll need to return to the States safely.”

  She refused to think of the possibilities if Matt wasn’t able to return to her. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she promised in a low, trembling voice.

  Matt carried her to their bed, flicked off the lamp on the bedside table, slipped out of his jeans and lay down beside her. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled her to his body. His punishing grip would not allow Eve to move, and she suffered the closeness because she knew they would have only two more nights together before her interminable waiting began.

  Eve became like a zombie. She ate because she knew she had to in order to maintain her strength, and she went to bed, but sleep was elusive. Even after Matt made love to her she lay awake, staring into space. And instead of slowing, the hours seemed to speed by, taking with them her promise to herself that she would remain stoic.

  She stared at the flickering candles on the end tables in the living room. She felt listless, bereft, and alone, even though Matt sat less than five feet from her.

  “Una mariposa,” he said, smiling at her.

  “What?”

  Matt moved over to her, brushing his mouth over her ear. “A butterfly. A fragile, exquisite, beautiful butterfly,” he explained, punctuating each adjective with a light kiss on her cheek.

  Eve smiled a sad smile. “Mariposa. A beautiful word for a delicate creature.”

  Matt’s large hands gently cradled her head. Supporting her body, he eased her down to the woven Indian rug. “And that’s what you are, my darling. A beautiful, delicate creature.”

  Her lids fluttered wildly as she fought back tears. What was wrong with her? She’d cried more in the past two days than she had in all of her life.

  “Mateo—”

  His mouth stopped her words. “Don’t, Baby,” he whispered, his gaze filled with an emptiness he refused to verbalize. “Didn’t we promise each other that we would enjoy the time we have left?” She nodded and pressed her face to his shoulder. “Let’s continue to make this last night special, Eve.”

  She tried making it special by preparing his favorite dish: arroz con pollo. She’d found a box of scented tapers and placed them throughout the living and dining rooms, surprising Matt when he came down the stairs.

  “Make love to me,” she pleaded softly.

  “No, Darling. We both decided that—”

  “I’ve changed my mind,” Eve interrupted. Her fingers tightened on his shirt. “Please, Matt. Please don’t make me beg you.”

  He heard the desperation in her voice and knew he couldn’t deny her or himself of this last opportunity to share the deep feelings which had made them one.

  Most of the tapers were hissing and burning out by the time Matt carried Eve up the staircase to their bedroom for the last time.

  He placed her on the bed, his body following and covering hers. Her fingers were busy undoing the buttons on his shirt before they went to the waistband of his slacks.

  Matt reached for the lamp, but Eve’s hand caught his. “Don’t turn off the light.”

  He obeyed. Each time they’d made love he had come to her, but this night was to be hers.

  He lay down, closing his eyes and permitting his senses to take over. He heard her quickened breath against his ear as she leaned over and removed his shirt. He could smell the floral scent of her shampoo and the sensual blend of jasmine, rose, orange blossom and amber spices that made up another of her perfumes.

  Raising his hips, Matt aided Eve as she removed his slacks and briefs. He folded his arms under his head, listening to the whisper of fabric graze her silken flesh as she shed her clothes. All movement ceased and he opened his eyes.

  Eve’s onyx gaze met that of Matt’s citrine and emerald. Her gaze inched down to the thick, roped muscles under the dark-brown arms glistening in the diffused lamp light. The underside of his arms were a paler, palomino gold where the hot sun had not darkened them. Tufts of straight, black hair grew out from his armpits, unlike the crisp, curling strands covering his chest that tapered down to a narrow line and spread out in a triangle to coarser, tighter curls at his loins.

  They had promised each other that they would not make love again until they were reunited in Virginia, but she had weakened. Eve couldn’t control or quell the spiraling compulsion to try to persuade Matt to disobey her uncle’s orders once she realized she would risk her own life to remain with him. Some unknown fear taunted her that if she lost Matt then Chris would also be lost to her—forever.

  She moved over his prone body, straddling his thighs while bracing her hands on the headboard above his head. Matt pulled himself up into a sitting position, his hands circling her waist. A rush of air was expelled from his lungs as she pressed her breasts to his chest.

  Lowering her head, Eve lightly touched her lips to Matt’s before devouring his mouth. Her tongue then moved slowly and traced the outline of his full, sensuous, lower lip. Her fingers bit into his scalp, and he couldn’t stop his deep moans of passion when she wouldn’t permit him to escape her marauding mouth. Using his superior strength, he jerked his mouth from hers and lowered his head while searching for a ripe breast. His teeth fastened around a bursting nipple. The gentle tugging elicited a keening cry from Eve.

  Only Matt’s incredible strength allowed him to maneuver Eve’s slender body with one arm, lifting her high enough to guide his sex into her and filling her with the fire which threatened to consume him. She tried pulling away but he held her fast.

  “No, Baby.”

  Eve closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She wanted it to last. Her heated blood raced through her veins like molten lava. She had fantasized about an even more intense ecstasy with Matt, and now that she was experiencing it she was frightened.

  “I can’t, Mateo,” she pleaded.

  Matt did not slow his powerful thrusts in his attempt to touch her womb. “I belong to you, Preciosa. I’m yours, Eve. Take all of me,” he crooned in singsong, clenching his teeth and praying he would not explode. She was so moist, so tight, that he doubted whether he could hold back long enough for Eve to achieve her own fulfillment.

  In the past, Matt had always been able to hold off fulfillment if he lay on his back. This time he knew it wasn’t possible. “Let it go, Darling,” he begged. Everything within him threatened to soar beyond his control. “Let it go. Please.” It no longer mattered if Eve knew she controlled him.

>   Eve folded her arms under his and grasped his shoulders. She buried her face against his throat, her hot breath coming quickly in his ear. His fingers tightened on her waist, setting the pace and guiding her sleek body each time she rose and fell over his manhood.

  The nectar flowing from Eve mingled with the perspiration coating their bodies. The sensitive nipples of her breasts grazed Matt’s damp chest hair, sending more shocks throughout her lower body. Her fingernails sank deep into the tight muscles of his shoulders, and she tried suppressing the uncontrollable screams bubbling from her parted lips.

  Matt’s hoarse breathing resounded in her head and she issued a little cry of surprise when he reversed their positions. She welcomed his weight and arched, receiving his frenzied thrusts as his hands cradled her buttocks, pulling her closer.

  She was too caught up with the emotions Matt had summoned from the part of her where sanity and insanity merged to realize the primal forces that had taken over her mind and body; raw, savage screams exploded from her throat just before satisfaction consumed her in the hottest fire of oblivion.

  Matt’s growl of sexual triumph echoed Eve’s as he quickened his movements and buried his flesh deep within her soft, throbbing warmth. He lay heavily on her slight frame, eyes closed.

  It had only taken the last seconds of his waning passion to realize that they had made a mistake. This act of love was not love, but an act of torture and desperation. They had said good-bye for the last time.

  * * *

  Eve’s hands moved slowly over Matt’s back to his waist and down to his hips. “I’ve just discovered something, Matt.”

  Resting his chin on the top of her head, he let out his breath slowly. “What is that, Darling?”

  She pulled back and looked up at him with a teasing smile curving her mouth. The rising sun turned Matt’s face and black attire into a statue of gold and onyx. She caught the intensity in his startling eyes and her smile faded. His agony sucked the breath from her lungs. She’d managed to sleep throughout the night, unaware that Matt had lain awake with the uncharacteristic emotion of fear attacking him relentlessly.