Amazon Awakening

by Caridad Piñeiro

  Her mother’s words echoed in her mind as Paola gazed at the photo of the three of them, her mother and father laughing with their arms wrapped around each other and her as she sat in her mother’s lap. An identical copy of the photo had sat on the mantel in her mother’s home for as long as Paola could remember. There was such love shining from their faces that it was hard to believe it could just disappear barely months later. She had always wondered why her mother would keep such a possibly painful reminder in a highly visible place.

  It made Paola consider what it would be like to feel that kind of love, but also the despair which followed. And it made her speculate how her grandmother must have suffered, losing her grandchild and then her son barely a year apart.

  I’d do it all again, her mother had insisted barely hours earlier during their dinner together.

  Which made Paola feel like a coward for not even considering doing it once. After all, what did she have to lose? she thought as she poured herself a glass of wine and sat down on the sofa in her apartment.

  How about your partnership? the little voice in her head challenged.

  For months, the rumor had been that she was being considered for a position amongst the firm’s partners. It would mean more money, not that she had need of it. Her mother’s family was well-off, and she made enough of her own to not only pay for her expenses, but to squirrel away something for the future. If she was going to be made partner it would happen, if not now then in a few months or a year or two.

  How about your comfortable life? the voice insisted while Paola sipped the cab franc, savoring its full-bodied taste, so unlike her not-so-full life.

  In fact, her boring life, she shot back to that imaginary adversary. Lately, she had been spending too much time at work with little time to play, and the thrill of winning… It had become hollow since she had no one with whom to share the success.

  How about losing yourself?

  Now that was an argument that was difficult to ignore. Just earlier that night her mother had hinted at the fact that during their return to her father’s Amazonian plantation it was as if her father had disappeared before her eyes. Her mother had lost him to his frequent trips into the rain forest and the demands of his legacy.

  A legacy you know nothing about.

  But if her grandmother passed…

  More than just the supposed Lopes legacy would be gone. She paused for a moment, considering that. Considering that she stood to lose a bit of herself, a bit of what had made her who she was, if she didn’t take this trip to learn more about her father’s family.

  She laid the wine glass on her coffee table and dipped her hand into her jacket pocket. Fingered the card tucked inside. Ran her fingers over the embossed edges of his name and title.

  Rey Peralta. Her personal guide to her father’s world. To the grandmother she had never known. Possibly a guide to something else she had ignored—the needs of her heart and body. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him from the moment he had walked through the door of her office. Even now, just the thought of him pooled warmth in her center and awakened something hidden within her.

  What would it be like to take and be taken by a man like Rey? To lose all caution and dare to explore the unexpected as her mother had done nearly thirty years ago?

  I’d do it all again.

  Her mother’s words challenged her.

  Rey would be waiting for her answer. But only until Friday. Just a couple of days away. But she wasn’t one to rush, especially considering that her mother’s headlong dash into her father’s arms had caused her great heartache.

  Paola was determined not to repeat that bit of painful history, no matter how attracted she was to her grandmother’s emissary. She had to make a logical choice about what to do and not be ruled by reckless emotion or a needy heart. That had already brought her family too much pain.

  Whatever this legacy was, she’d have to find a way to deal with it and with her attraction to Rey.

  She tossed Rey’s card down on the coffee table and picked up her glass of wine. She took a sip and leaned back, letting her mind run through all the variables. Although the Friday deadline loomed large in her brain, she was certain of one thing.

  Rey can wait until I’m good and ready.

  It was a mistake to be here, he thought, as Paola’s assistant let him into Paola’s office and he closed the door behind him.

  She was in that big executive chair, a sheath of papers in her hand that she slowly laid down as she swiveled to face him.

  “It’s not Friday yet,” she said and took no other action to either welcome him or push him away.

  Rey had never been someone who easily gave up. Walking to her desk and then around the edge, he stood there, hands clenched to keep from touching her. “I’m not one to leave things to chance,” he said.

  “Neither am I,” she replied and did a slow turn to peer up at him, hands braced on the arms of the chair, long elegant legs crossed. Her position hiked up her skirt, allowing him a glimpse of something deliciously lacy just below the staid navy blue fabric.

  He itched to explore that bit of sexy lace.

  “We both know you’re more than just a buttoned-up suit,” he said and dared to graze his hand along the straight line of her shin to just below her knee.

  She trembled beneath that caress and uncrossed her legs, hiding that view of the lace, but providing yet another little turn-on.

  “I can smell it. Your arousal,” he said with a little growl from the animal spirit within him that was finding it hard to battle her enticement. It was almost unfair since she was still unaware of who she really was and the legacy that could bring so much pleasure, but also pain.

  Paola closed her legs tight as if by doing so she could shut away the desire he was creating with only his presence, but it was a losing battle. Her panties were drenched with her passion, and her nipples were so tight and sensitive even the fine fabric of her bra was inflaming her need.

  “You’re not what you seem, either,” she replied, the low little growl in his voice still vibrating within her.

  “Can you continue to ignore what you’re feeling now?” he said and held out his hand in both challenge and invitation.

  She glanced at his hand, so big and strong. A crisscross of fine lines along his knuckles hinted at some old wounds, confirming that he was a man of action and not a desk jockey. Following the line of his arm, she realized that not even his expensively tailored suit could hide the power beneath the fabric. He oozed strength, and her insides clenched at the thought of all that power directed toward her.

  Power too impossible to resist? she wondered, barely a second before slipping her hand into his and rising from her chair. She half expected him to crush her to him, but he didn’t, keeping her inches away while he brought his other hand to her waist.

  The weight of his palm on her felt right somehow. But then he trailed that hand lower until he reached the edge of her skirt. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and slowly, achingly, skimmed his rough palm along her leg until he encountered the lacy edge of the thigh-high stockings she wore.

  He traced that edge with his finger, skipping from lace to the soft skin of her thigh. Making her insides quiver as she imagined that hand moving ever upward, his work-hardened skin rasping along her smoothness.

  He finally leaned closer, his warm breath fanning across her temple before he dipped his head and whispered, “You are so much more than what you show the world.”

  Before she could deny his statement, he did what she had wanted and brought his hand between her legs, caressing her through the silky fabric of her damp panties. Unerringly finding her center and applying gentle pressure against that sensitive nub.

  Her knees weakened, and she grabbed hold of his shoulders for support. Shifting her hips forward, she accepted his wicked caress. He eased past the edge of her panties and slipped his hand inward. Dancing his fingers along her cleft, he teased her, stroking her wet, flushed li
ps and pressing his thumb against her clitoris, but avoiding what she wanted most.

  She breathed his name with a needy sigh, and he groaned, clearly caught up the moment as well.

  Paola dropped one hand past his massive chest and lean midsection, heading for the erection that was impossible to miss, but he snagged her hand and said, “Not now. I want this to be all about you, Paola. About what you’re feeling and what you want.”

  She nearly came with his words, but managed to hold back. Then he said, “Don’t hide your passion. Tell me what you need.”

  Sane and practical Paola would have said that she needed him to leave her to her safe, secure world, but the woman whose spirit had stirred the moment he had first walked into her office days earlier had other ideas.

  “Kiss me. There,” she said and dipped her gaze downward to where he was still caressing her.

  A thrill went through her as he willingly dropped to his knees, all that masculine power and strength answering her request.

  He left his ministrations only long enough to ease her skirt up with both hands and pull her panties down to midthigh. Then he grasped her buttocks with his hands and skimmed his mouth up her stockings to that damning edge of lace and skin.

  He kissed that line and then trailed his tongue upward along the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. Inching ever closer to where she wanted that most intimate kiss.

  Her body shook from his tardy journey, and she once again placed her hands on his broad shoulders for support. As his mouth closed over her clitoris, she bit back her cry of satisfaction and eased one hand into his thick hair, keeping him pressed to her. She urged him on with muted cries, aware that one of her co-workers might come into her office at any moment.

  “Don’t fight it,” he whispered before he tracked his tongue along her lips and then back to her clitoris, licking and sucking until she was perched on the edge of a sharp release.

  She moaned his name and held his head to her, holding back because she didn’t want the pleasure to end. But then he eased one hand down and found her center. Slipped one finger and then another inside her drenched vagina.

  Her breath caught in her throat and her heart seemed to skip a beat as he stroked in and out of her with those gifted fingers. As he laid his mouth over her clitoris and bit down gently, he pulled her over the edge to a shattering release.

  Her knees were so weak she had no choice but to sit back down in her chair, earning a murmured protest from Rey as her panties got in the way of his continued loving.

  He grabbed them in his powerful hands and ripped them apart. Then, with a sharply contrasting gentleness, he eased her legs open and kneeled before her, his gaze glued to the site of her flushed and quivering sex.

  A sudden moment of modesty stole over her and she tried to close her legs, but he applied tender pressure to prevent it.

  “I want to see. I want to feel you again,” he said and stroked the back of his fingers along her cleft.

  That simple action had her shaking and nearly on the edge again, such was her need.

  Need for him, she admitted. She’d had a few other lovers, but none had dared to please her quite like this—with a desire that was almost brutal in its demands.

  He once again touched her, his thumb skimming along her nub while he eased two fingers into her wetness. He created delicious friction by adding a third finger, which had her pushing her hips forward onto the edge of the chair, deepening his possession. Wishing that he would instead fill her with his amazing erection.

  “Not yet,” he said, continuing that maddening caress of his hand while he skimmed his other hand beneath her suit jacket. He found her hard nipple and took it between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it roughly and drawing a low moan from her.

  “Why not?” she asked, needing to know why he was expecting her to give all of herself while he held himself back.

  “Because I want you to embrace your real spirit. The one that can’t be contained by these four walls or a pin-striped suit,” he urged her, just a moment before shifting close to nip the hard peak of her breast with his teeth.

  The pleasure-pain of that bite sent her over the edge, and he surged upward to cover her mouth with his, kissing her to muffle her cry of release.

  As determined as his possession had been, his soothing actions after her release were even more unwavering. His kisses grew slow and more tender, allowing her to catch her breath as he lovingly smoothed down the fabric of her skirt and tried to restore calm.

  When he was on his feet before her once more, his body tense from the desire he had restrained, she peered up at him and asked, “Do you think this will convince me to change my mind about going with you?”

  He shook his head. A sad smile played about his lips before he reined in his emotions. “I think that ultimately you will do what is right.”

  Without waiting for her reply or pressing for her answer, he left.

  As she stared at the door in stunned surprise, her body still recovering from the incredible passion he had provided, she had no clue what was right or wrong or what to do tomorrow.

  If this incredible interlude had proven one thing it was that going with Rey presented a danger she had not expected. But as she gazed around her office, she realized yet again that staying here presented challenges as well.

  Maybe by tomorrow she’d know which risk was the right one to take.

  Chapter Three

  Rey watched the wonder in Paola’s eyes as the plane first flew over the edges of the rain forest. Her irises were a rich emerald color, much like the jungle below, verdant and alive. Her mother’s eyes, he thought, recalling the many pictures he had seen of the beautiful woman Javier Lopes had married. The apple had not fallen far from the tree, he thought, as he risked a glance up and down her body. Gone was the suit, which had hidden the very feminine curves now displayed by the casual clothes hugging her torso.

  How he ached to explore all that femininity yet again.

  “It’s amazing,” she said with awe and shot him a quick look from the corner of her eye.

  “I never tire of seeing it. Each time is like a first time,” he said. Much like how each glimpse of her face presented a new facet.

  He hadn’t expected Paola to agree to come with him, even after their very satisfying interlude. She had seemed like a woman in her element in New York, much like he and his fellow Guardians were at home here along the Amazon and within the boundaries of the sacred space located on the Lopes property.

  It made him wonder how she would fit in at the plantation. If being there would further arouse the powers he had sensed residing within her. Her father had not just been one of them, but the son of the high Priestess of the Guardians. Had it not been for his untimely death, Javier Lopes would have been the future heir to his mother’s position.

  Now it was Paola’s legacy.

  “Does it take long to reach the plantation?” she asked, her gaze still locked on the landscape flying below.

  Rey leaned toward the window, his shoulder brushing against hers as he did so. She jerked at the contact, either in response to his physical presence or maybe because she was experiencing the touch of his spirit.

  When she shot him a furtive glance, questioning what had just happened, her gaze widened at the passion that rose between them.

  It was a powerful female spirit Guardian residing within her, calling to him. He had sensed the edges of her power across the distance of her desk and then later as he had made love to her. This close to her and to the allure of the sacred space, the synergy of their energies—male and female—dragged demanding need into his body and soul. He marshaled that reaction, not wanting to scare her with the force of his spirit Guardian. As he pulled back his vitality, she relaxed.

  Glancing down at the river and rain forest, he perused the many bends in the winding waterway, looking for familiar landmarks, to determine how far along they were on their journey. “Less than half an hour,” he said, motioning to the lan
dscape below. “See that distant bend and juncture way up the river?”

  She leaned so close to the window that her nose brushed the glass and her breath frosted it. “That one?” she asked, pointing to a faraway portion of the waterway.

  Her finger obscured the place where the tributary leading to the plantation came off the Amazon, so he assumed she was at least in the general vicinity. Nodding, he said, “It’s a branch along the main river. A navigable stretch that’s big enough for us to land the plane. We also have some fish hatcheries there.”

  He leaned back in his seat, but his big bulk was still cramped in the space. His shoulder rubbed against hers with the not-so-subtle movement of the small seaplane taking them to their final destination. At one steeply angled turn, she pressed back into her seat and clutched the arms of the seat tightly, her face a pale and sickly green.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Not a big fan of flying,” she admitted from behind gritted teeth. Her knuckles were white against the dark fabric on the arm of the seat.

  Another facet, he thought, placing his hand over hers to offer comfort. “I didn’t take you for the type to be afraid of anything.”

  “Just flying,” she murmured, but relaxed as the plane banked back to a level line. “And maybe my father’s mother,” she tacked on, surprising him with her candor. He liked that she trusted him enough to reveal a weakness, but guilt settled in that he had not been totally honest with her about the reason why she should return to her ancestral home.

  “Your grandmother is not all that scary,” he stressed and then in a conspiratorial tone added, “at least not all the time.”

  She grinned and shook her head. “Have you known her long?”

  “Almost all my life. I was orphaned as a child, and your grandmother took me in,” he explained, wanting her to understand why he owed the Lopes family such loyalty.

  “And you’ve worked for her—”

  “All my life,” he repeated again.