In one swipe, he rakes damp hair away from his forehead and looks right at me. “I thought something had happened to you. That’s all.”
“Are you serious? Are you pretending to care for my well-being now? After mind fucking me?”
“Mind fucking?” He wades backward, putting a needed rift from his body to mine. “I’ve been honest with you from the start. Perhaps you’re the mind-fucker, beija flor.”
I notice he changed his shirt, now dressed in a pitch-black T-shirt that snuggles his torso under the surface. Then I realize I’m completely naked.
“And I’ve been up front with you. If you had asked me those questions without using a drug, the answers would have been the same. I don’t have an ulterior motive.”
His eyes never leave me, yet his breath escapes in a slow sigh. “Why didn’t you answer the door?”
“I was enjoying the peace and quiet. The water blocks out the constant animal racket.” And dulls the exhausted thoughts running through my mind.
Backed against the water’s edge, he looks normal. A guy spending the evening in a pool with friends. A man without secrets and cruel intentions. “I’ve spent many evenings floating under the stars,” he admits, swiping his uncovered palm over his jaw. “No matter what goes on out there”—hair flicks over his brow when he nods to the screening vegetation—“this place is a sanctuary.”
He doesn’t smile or continue to speak. He just stands in the pool like it’s a natural occurrence for us to talk.
The craziness seeps out of me before I have time to assess the possible fallout. Swimming to the ledge, I place both palms on the mosaic tiles and elevate out of the deep end. This time I’m not under the influence of a drug, I’m in control and wholly aware of my senses. Prickles shower my spine and rush to my buttocks, competing with languid water. Glancing back at the exact moment I straighten to stand, his unwavering attention lights every cell within my body. I shake out my curls, gently teasing splayed fingers through the spirals as adrenaline spikes. My nipples harden, and a dangerous thrill proclaims my arousal.
I want him to want me.
Perhaps that's my only tactic. Make the beast desire something new in this world he’s created.
With my ass to the pool, I prance to the sun lounger. Splashes are followed by a chorus of cicadas chirping in the stillness. Anticipation swirls with apprehension. My heart bucks, and my knees threaten to buckle.
“As you weren’t bitten by a poisonous snake and left for dead in the pool, I’ll leave.”
I spin around, inadvertently catching the hard-on fighting against dripping camo shorts. “You came here to check if I'd been bitten?” I say with an incredulous smirk.
“No. I came here to give you something.”
“There isn’t anything you could give me that I would want. Not one thing.” This time, my eyes purposefully drop to the bulge.
“Is that right?” he growls. “Well, you’ve looked at my dick twice now. That says it all.” He runs a thumb over his bottom lip, and tremors shake over my skin. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't come here for that.”
“It’s not disappointment, it’s relief.” I force a smile. “What did you want to give me? Another cocktail?”
His silent gaze remains on mine for a second longer than comfortable. With his face unhidden and his identity laid bare, he turns ninety degrees and strolls indoors. “This.” He waves a brown notebook. A pocket-sized notebook. My journal.
I freeze, all too aware of the skipped heartbeats caused by the curveball smacking into my chest. My feet barely touch the tiles as I rush over to claim back the treasured item. “Where did you find it? I thought everything was destroyed.” I hold out my hands.
Just as my fingertips brush the cover, he whips it away. “And you said there was nothing I could give you that you would want. So, is this something you don’t want?”
“Why are you teasing me?”
“I’m only asking for honesty, beija flor.”
“Honesty? Really?” I laugh. “You told me there were no women at the oasis. You led me to believe I was the only one.” In the deadlock, my nakedness is no longer a weapon, it's my vulnerability. “I saw you with a woman earlier. Is this what you really do? Trap women and brainwash them into thinking you’re truly their master. To make them fall for you. Is it a pompous ego trip to prove you’re the true king of the jungle?”
El Fantasma goes rigid. “I don't wish for any woman to fall for me.” Iridescent eyes narrow. He might be the most attractive man I’ve ever seen, but the slice of disgust served with his response pours an uneasiness over my racing heart. “You were spying on me?”
Fuck him for thinking I’d be interested in stalking him. “Are you serious?” I palm my belly, battling queasiness. “I’m trying to stay away, not follow you around like a lost parrot. You were out in the open with a beautiful woman. It’s hardly spying if you're on the common pathways. Anyone could have seen you, Mister Not-so-ghostly.” I tip my chest in a half-mocking bow.
His nostrils flare at the flippant tone that I’ve chosen to show courage. The shift of his eyebrow announces displeasure. “And by that explosion, I can only assume you’re jealous?”
I trip over the audacity. “Me . . . jealous? Can your ego get any bigger?” My hands fly to my hips, and his eyes land on my breasts as they jiggle with the movement. “Are there more women here?”
He runs a hand over his mouth, with muscles flexed and a solitary vein pulsating in his throat, never taking his harsh gaze off me. A glowering look of distaste tightens his features. My heart withers under the gray cloud of his restless mood. “You’re the only one,” he confirms. “I suggest you tell me the truth, or I’ll toss this journal back into the jungle with you attached to it. Does this notebook please you?”
Antagonizing the man who can make me disappear is moronic. It’s not my fault that his presence brings out an animalistic temper within me. However, it’s not my anger I need to mollify, it’s his. A searing stare strips the flesh from my bones and deflates my lungs, suffocating them of air. “Yes. It pleases me.” I drop my chin and lower my lashes to free myself from his villainous beauty.
“Were you jealous?” he repeats.
I shiver at the hoarse quality of his clipped tone. “Confused,” I whisper, as though the heinous confession is swaddled in protective feathers.
I can't lie to him if I’m going to survive.
The book drops into my waiting palms. “Here.” He doesn't let go. Instead, he leans into the side of my face. Whiskers stimulate the mending scar tissue. “Do not tease me if you don’t want me to fuck you to death.”
Dusk stains the sky with a final blaze of bronze. As nightfall prepares to cast its starry blanket, the restless wildlife noise ebbs. A faint breeze from the overhead fan pirouettes around me. Freshness boosts all the hairs on my body to an upright position. Taking a slow, controlled breath, he pivots around in damp boots and marches to the door.
I dart after him. “Wait.” He doesn't slow his pace. “You told me to forget about the woman I used to be. So why did you bring me that person's journal?”