Amazon Awakening (2 page)

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 lips 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.

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 landscape 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.

“It doesn't bother you that after all that time my grandmother intends to turn over responsibility to a total stranger?” Paola asked. She examined his features, wondering what kind of man he was to be that self-sacrificing. The kind of men she normally dealt with were all about themselves. Although yesterday in her office should have clued her in to the fact that he was nothing like the men with whom she normally dealt.

“You're not a stranger. You're her granddaughter.”

Not a hint of resentment or anger entered his handsome features, and she was drawn to him once again, but this time because of the honor she was sensing within him.

“If you've been with my grandmother all your life—”

“I met your father, although I was very young. Seven or eight. My family had come to live on the plantation shortly after you and your mother left.”

She wondered how much he remembered about her father. Her mother rarely spoke of him and what little she had revealed the other night was troubling. Maybe Rey could provide a different perspective. “What was my father like?”

Rey smiled fondly. “Caring. Friendly. A leader,” he said, but then a shadow passed over his face and settled in his eyes, darkening them to almost black.

“Rey?” she questioned and took hold of his hand, returning his earlier comfort since it was impossible to miss his distress.

“My parents died at his side, protecting the plantation from a band of rogue loggers.”

Cupping the strong line of his jaw, she ran her thumb down the hard planes of his face. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

“As I am for yours,” he said, but some of the friendliness had evaporated from his tone.

The plane did a sudden bank again, and she tightened her hold on his hand as he leaned forward to peer through another window. When he sat back, he advised, “We'll be there soon. Make sure you're buckled in tight. The landing can be a bit bumpy.”

Bumpy was an understatement. Less than five minutes later, her body and stomach flew high up despite her tightly buckled seat belt when the pontoons smacked into the river's surface. The fuselage of the tiny plane creaked, rattled, groaned and shook violently as the pilot completed the landing.

She was sure she had left crescent moon cuts in the palm of Rey's hand from the force of her grip, but Rey did nothing to acknowledge his wounds or make her feel foolish. If anything, he gallantly stabilized her as she wobbled when she stood and helped her from the plane onto the nearby dock.

When she teetered again as the floating timbers shifted, he offered her his arm and escorted her down the long dock to where a group of people waited. The crowd was a mix of the indigenous natives and those descended from the European colonists who had claimed the area for their own. The people were chattering noisily as she and Rey approached, but when they were almost upon them, the crowd parted to reveal an elderly woman amongst them.

She looked regal standing there, her head tilted upward almost defiantly. A gorgeous silver mane of hair was upswept from a face that could have easily passed for that of a woman nearly three decades younger.

Her grandmother, Paola thought, since there was no denying the family resemblance. It was like staring into a mirror and seeing herself in the future. Her mother had not lied when she said that Paola favored the Lopes side of the family.

There was only one problem.

For a woman who was close to ninety and supposedly near death, she looked surprisingly hale and hearty.

Paola paused, shooting an accusatory look at Rey and releasing her hold on his arm. “I thought you said she was ill.”

“I said she wished to see you before her time came. At her age there is no guarantee of tomorrow,” he clarified.

“You led me to believe—”

“That she wanted to see you. As a lawyer I thought you would be more careful about reading other meanings into my words.”

Anger surged through her at his deception, but then she recalled that he had said he was a determined man. He had been resolute to get her here and he had done just that.

“You and I will settle this in private,” she said, not wanting to air any dirty laundry before the group waiting expectantly. Her grandmother's keen-eyed gaze traveled over both Rey and Paola, clearly assessing them.

Paola pressed forward until she stood before her grandmother. They were both tall. Age had seemingly done nothing to diminish her grandmother's stature. She stood straight and tall, meeting Paola's gaze directly.

“Do not be too angry with him, child. He was only trying to please an old woman.”

“Are you ill?” Paola asked, just to be on the safe side.

A wry smile split the old woman's mobile lips. “I am far healthier than some half my age,” she confessed.

“Then why bring me here? Why the rush after so long?”

Rey walked up to them, easily carrying their assorted bags in his arms. “Please take them to the main house,” her grandmother said and then reached out and looped her arm through Paola's.

“Come, child. There is much you need to know about your legacy.”