Marguarita collected the cups and dessert plates and took them to the sink to wash up. Looking at the crumbs made her think of hunger, but she didn’t feel it. The thought of eating anything was disturbing. She drank water, hoping that would assuage her growing thirst. There was a strange throbbing in her veins, a beat that refused to go away, a soft insistent call that steadily grew stronger. A need. A longing. A hunger.
The entire time she’d spent with Lea and Julio, she’d been uneasy and had convinced herself it was because of Zacarias, afraid of what he might say or do. But here, alone in the kitchen, with no one to witness, she could admit to herself, it was the call of their hearts, the steady ebb and flow of the blood in their veins. She could hear it, and although she’d turned the volume down as Zacarias had helped her learn to do, she found the temptation beating in her own veins—beating in Zacarias’s veins, in his mind and heart.
It would never stop, not as long as her mind was immersed in Zacarias—as long as he filled her up in the way she filled him. The hunger didn’t stop for Zacarias, not when he could hear the drumming call of a pulse, not when he could smell the rich scent of fresh blood. That was his world and one she had to become accustomed to.
When she was alone, trying to analyze how she felt about taking blood, the human in her was frightened and even utterly repulsed. Strangely, after first being terrified, Zacarias had somehow turned the act of giving or receiving blood into something natural and even beautiful, a sharing of the very essence of life as long as he was with her.
Marguarita knew the exact moment Zacarias entered the room. He moved in utter silence, but she was immediately aware of him, every one of her senses springing to life. Her body sang. Her heart fluttered and a million butterflies took wing in her stomach.
He came up behind her, so close she felt his heat, the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck where he swept her hair out of the way and bent to brush his lips over her skin. A whisper of a caress, and yet she shivered in reaction, her blood turning warm—her body welcoming.
“I know that was difficult for you as well as for your friend, and I am truly sorry.”
She turned around. He didn’t step back. She was pinned between the sink and his body. Tilting her head, her gaze found his. She smiled at him.
Did you know that when we are alone and you’re looking at me like that, your eyes are a deep, dark sapphire, like the blue in the midnight sky?
He kissed the tip of her nose. “If that is true, you are the only one who sees my eyes in color. I have only seen them dark, like the shadow of death.”
She circled his neck with her arms, linking her fingers at his nape as she leaned into him. I assure you, they are a beautiful blue when you look at me that way.
“What way is that?”
With caring. She couldn’t bring herself to say love, but it felt like love.
He caught her chin so she couldn’t look away from him. “Will it feel like love when I take you away from everything you know? Everyone you love?”
It was never your decision, Zacarias. It was mine. I insisted you live. I asked you to stay for me. I chose you. I will always choose you.
His eyes stared into hers. All midnight blue. So beautiful her heart fluttered.
“You humble me.”
Because I am human and female does not make me stupid. I thought this through from every angle. I didn’t just jump into it with both feet. I had all night just to think. I know it will be difficult for us to merge our two worlds. I know sometimes it will be wrenching. But Zacarias, you told me you would make me happy. You vowed that you would and I believe you. I absolutely believe you will.
“I will rule you.” He said it starkly, shadows sliding into the blue of his eyes.
Hopefully you will choose to do so with love. I can’t imagine being happy and feeling cherished if you are not thinking of what pleases me. Life is filled with choices, Zacarias. I choose you and I choose to be happy. When the earth is shaking and I’m terrified, I plan on holding on very tight.
A slow smile softened the hard edge to his mouth. “I will expect you to keep your word. Do not ever keep your fear or your anger from me. I want all of you.”
Laughter spilled into his mind. Ask Julio and Cesaro before you ask for that. I have a very bad temper. It doesn’t happen often, but I’m not reasonable when someone is silly enough to push me too far over the edge.
Zacarias looked down into those melting-chocolate eyes and knew he was lost. He was not a man who trusted, yet he trusted her word. She would stand with him. He took her hand and tugged, leading her through to the main room of the house.
“I want you to come with me, Marguarita. I want to show you our world.” He smiled down at her, his eyes more blue than ever. “With you, I will be seeing it for the first time.”
She sketched a question mark.
“In color. You will provide the colors and emotion. I have never seen the night and the moon and rain forest in vibrant color.” It seemed a miracle that she could do that for him. Just being with her gave him a different world altogether.
He’d lived in a kind of void. A hell that was stark and barren and very ugly. The rich colors and even the emotions—both bad and good—made everything a kind of miracle.
She had given him such a gift, allowing him to ride a horse with her, exploring the ranch, flowing over the ground, one with the animal, and he could give her this. He hoped to woo her a little, court her, show her he had something to give as well.
It’s close to dawn, Zacarias, she reminded gently.
What I wish to show you requires the dawn.
The night was his, what little was left of it. His world. His domain. It mattered little that for centuries it had been a hell. She was with him now. Marguarita. The flip side of hell was paradise and he would take her there, find it with her, experience it with her. Through her.
Marguarita didn’t hesitate. She tightened her fingers in his and reminded him gently. I’m not wearing any underwear. Will I need different clothing?
He groaned. He’d been steadily ignoring the temptation of her body. He wanted to spend time with her, give her something besides his continual hunger.
“I will keep you warm.” His gaze drifted possessively down her body. He loved her hourglass figure, all those lush curves just for him. “You are a beautiful woman.”
She blushed, glowed. Her smile was a bit like the moon rising and the stars joining in. He went out the door before he lost his control and they didn’t make it out of the house. She seemed to have that effect on him.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and took to the sky. She gasped and clung. He laughed softly and buried his face in all that hair. Silken strands were everywhere. She tried to tame it by tightly holding the arm locking her to him and reaching cautiously with her other hand to bunch the mass into a thick twisting knot held to the nape of her neck.
“You have to actually open your eyes to appreciate this,” he whispered.
Joy burst through him. Fireworks. Vibrant colors. Speeding light zipping across the heavens. A glittering wonderland spread out below him and Marguarita was in his mind, sharing it all with him. She was more than a miracle, she was a little piece of heaven. What would it matter if he had seen this without her? It would have meant nothing at all. Now . . . his rain forest . . . his country—was everything, because she was there.
He felt her fingers dig into his arm. He bent his head to put his mouth against her ear, although he didn’t use words. He wanted the more intimate form of communication. He felt every breath she took. Felt every beat of her heat. Show me your trust, mića emni kuηenak minan.
Her breath hissed out, although he felt laughter, nervousness and excitement at the same time, filling his mind. You just called me a lunatic again, didn’t you?
Well, he teased, you are flying through the air above the canopy of the rain forest with me. You have to be a bit of a lunatic to do that. I did call you beautiful though. And mine. D
oes that make up for it?
She opened her eyes. Below her was every shade of green on the color spectrum, with the bright silvery light of the moon spilling over the canopy. Instead of looking up at it from the forest floor, she was looking down at it. A breathless sigh of wonder filled his mind. He dropped down fast, taking her through the branches, to show her the spectacular find he’d run across years earlier.
Few people, if any, have ever seen this sight. I have come here once a year to see these macaws. In the early morning they flock together for their morning meeting, stirring just before dawn. I found a small cave near this spot and hollowed out a chamber, just so I could see them take flight.
He felt the wonder of that sight from so long ago, and knew now why he had returned year after year to make certain the flock was still there. He hadn’t felt the rush back then, but he felt it now, the beauty and majesty of the large birds all roosting in the hollows of the grove of trees. There were so many, great imposing birds.
He had always felt at home in the rain forest and had felt more of a kinship with the animals than he had with people populating the world.
Like me, Marguarita confirmed. That’s why we connected so quickly and deeply, Zacarias, we both have a kinship with animals.
The impression of her soft laughter teased his mind. Of course you’re more like a great jungle cat, all teeth and claws, and I’m more like the hummingbirds buzzing around the flowers.
She looked up at him, her eyes bright with joy, with the thrill of what he was sharing with her. Deliberately he showed his teeth, baring them at her much like a wild animal. More laughter spilled into his mind. All that warm honeyed molasses poured through him, a kind of molten gold, filling the cracks and spaces and driving away more of the shadows.
His arm tightened around her. How had he gone from being completely alone to being completely filled by a woman? A human woman at that?
More laughter spilled brightness through him. A lunatic of a woman.
My lunatic, he agreed, finding himself smiling.
She had changed the world. Brought him to life. Brought the world around him to life. He couldn’t resist teasing her. You do know that hummingbirds fight all the time. They are vicious little creatures.
Perhaps that’s why I have such an affinity for you.
He laughed out loud. The sound startled him—pleased him. He had heard the word fun, but didn’t really understand the concept until that very minute. Sharing with Marguarita was fun.
Are you cold? Had he detected a little shiver?
You’re keeping me very warm, thank you. I’m just excited. It’s so beautiful, Zacarias. I’ve seen macaws, but not so many poking their heads out of the hollows in the trees.
Everywhere she looked, curious heads in pairs looked up at her from hollowed-out holes in the trees where they roosted.
A normal flock of macaws, depending on the species, runs around thirty or so. They all hang out in the morning together. The wingspans are a good three feet, nothing like the harpy eagle, but when they all take to the air, it is a sight unlike any other. In a few moments you’ll witness their flight.
He felt her excitement, flowing through her, flowing through him. She had awoken him after centuries of darkness. A part of him would always worry just what she’d managed to awaken. His feelings for her were too intense and too mixed to take out and examine.
Then don’t. Let it be, Zacarias. This early morning in the rain forest is glorious. The moon spilling her light over us, the macaws waking and spreading their wings, all blues and golds and scarlet. It’s amazing and you’ve given this to me. I love it.
He looked down at the riot of color, all the shimmering feathers as the macaws slowly stretched and preened, getting ready for their early morning meeting as the moon descended and the sun rose.
How did you get to be so wise?
Women are very wise, Zacarias. You should listen to them more often.
He gave a derisive snort and felt her laughter pour into his mind. She flooded him with happiness. She tightened her fingers around his wrist, her body vibrating with excitement as the birds fluttered wings and, almost as one body, took to the air. Beams of light spilled through the trees, hitting the vibrant colors on the shimmering, iridescent feathers. The colors nearly blinded him, so vivid and intense, making him a little dizzy. He had seen the sight before, but not in living color. Not like this. And not with her.
Marguarita. He breathed her name, a soft whisper on the wind, carrying through the rain forest to the macaws.
The large birds wheeled in the air, a graceful display of living fireworks, a spectacular demonstration of nature at her most beautiful.
Zacarias could barely breathe with the emotions rising like a tidal wave. For her. For Marguarita. He had brought her to this special place to share this very moment. A gift for her, yet in the end, the gift had been from her. The colors. The intensity. The sheer feeling.
I need to be inside of you. Right now. Like this.
In the air, in the rain forest, out in the open where he belonged—just at that moment where night turned into day and his heart beat in both places.
Now I know why you forgot my underwear.
She stroked him with love, deep inside his mind, soft caresses that burned through skin and bone, branded him somewhere he thought long gone. She broke him open and poured herself inside of him, filling him up with her light.
She turned, there in his arms, and he stripped them both of clothes, so that it was her skin sliding against his, all warm and soft and lush, her body already ripe for him. He bent his head to find her mouth while she wound one leg around his waist, pressing her inviting entrance tight against him. She tasted of innocence and sin. He bunched her hair in his hand and pulled her head back so he could kiss her again and again, his tongue exploring all that sexy heat.
Her hips rocked invitingly against his. He marveled that she didn’t hesitate, didn’t deny him anything, not even when she was poised thirty feet in the air with a carpet of macaws spread below them and the branches around them filling with monkeys. She kissed him back, seemingly oblivious to anything but him. Trusting him, giving herself to him without reservation.
He had to let go of her hair to lift her other leg around him. She levered herself up, using her hands on his shoulders, sliding her scorching hot body over his belly to position herself right over the smooth head of his cock. He closed his eyes, savoring the exquisite feeling as she slowly impaled herself, sliding down in an excruciatingly gradual motion, taking his breath with her little circles and the way her tight body reluctantly gave way, stretching around the thick length of him.
She threw her head back and began a slow ride designed to drive him insane. Her muscles gripped and stroked, the friction building like a slow fire when the fierce heat was already surrounding him. She felt velvet soft, moist and tight. Too tight. Strangling him. Sending bolts of lightning streaking through his body. His every nerve ending felt even the tiniest movement she made as she rose up, her body sliding over his, fitting like a glove, a second skin, and then sinking back over him, taking him deep inside her.
Her hair blew around them, cloaking them one moment and sliding away the next to reveal their bodies intertwined. He let her set the pace, watching every expression on her face, her eyes, the happiness, the pleasure, the lust, but mostly, he found himself looking for the love. It was there in her melting eyes. In the way she touched him. In the way she moved, that slow, spiraling lazy ride, as if she wanted to enjoy every last moment with him, wring it out to forever. She savored him.
He realized she had opened the dam of his emotions, and for her, every feeling was more intense, more everything. His world centered around her. This world. The one with color. With emotion. With love.
With me. This is the real world, Zacarias. When you’re with me. Live here with me. When you go to the other one, you’re just hunting in it. But live here with me.
Her hands smoothed his skin, her
lips suddenly brushed his shoulder and retreated again as she let her head fall back and her eyes meet his.
Always, avio päläfertiilam—my lifemate. I will always live with you. There is no other way. He took the control back, surging into her over and over, each stroke deep and long and each one telling her what she was to him. He drove her up high and as he tipped her over the edge, she took him with her. They soared across the sky, a dizzying ride, locked together, racing the sun as they made their way home.
16
The thudding was persistent, a drumming annoyance that intruded on her dreams. No matter how many times Marguarita dragged the pillow over her head, pressing it to her ears, the pounding not only continued, but became louder and much more demanding. She wanted desperately to sleep. She was so tired she couldn’t find the energy to move. Her arms and legs felt like lead. Even her eyelids didn’t want to cooperate.
She lay for a long moment, listening to her heartbeat. The sound was loud, echoing through her head. She could hear the rush of the blood in her veins, and the sounds of insects outside the house in the fields. Through it all was the persistent knocking. Whoever it was at her front door was not going away anytime soon—unless she was having a bizarre nightmare.
The thought of a nightmare didn’t alarm her, but the idea that the noises she was hearing so easily were outside the walls of the house did. Zacarias had explained, but if she listened, she could hear the murmur of the cattle and they were more than a mile from the house. Coming from the stable was the stamp of horses and even the conversation of two of the men working there. One was very concerned about Ricco.
A strange yelp and more banging on the door convinced her she needed to get up. Experimenting, she tried to lift one arm. She managed about an inch before, sighing, she let it fall onto the mattress. It took some effort, but she rolled over to stare at her ceiling fan slowly turning over her head. More banging on the door and her sluggish mind began to function faster. What if something had happened to Ricco? Maybe that was the reason the workers were discussing him. She should have eavesdropped instead of retreating like a scared baby.