Island Tango (Silver Goddess Series, Book One) (14 page)

Herculea’s heart ached as she forced herself back to reality.  A flashback of Pedro hovering over her body
drifted
into her mind.  As though it were pesky dust on her kitchen floor, Herculea quickly swept the vision away.  The most intense sexual experience of her life had somehow stemmed from the cruelest prank that could be played on a person.  Herculea’s lips tightened as she wondered where Pedro was now.  How she would relish the taste of victory over her callous nemesis.

*****

The last of the wooden planks was nailed securely to the door.  Pedro dropped the hammer to the ground, panting from exertion.  His empty house in Brazil was completely boarded up,
impenetrable
.  Pouring the contents of a water bottle over his head, Pedro looked towards the blindingly blue sky.  He had spent all morning preparing for his departure, and now, at the sweltering peak of the afternoon, he would leave this house behind forever.  The memories of what he had done to Herculea were painful beyond all bearing.  He felt a remorse such as he had never known, a regret that manifested as physical pain in his joints and muscles.

“Why?!” He shouted in a cracked voice.

His only reply was the reverberation of his own voice, a sound so pitiful he did not immediately recognize it.  Why hadn’t he taken things more slowly with Herculea and given her the chance to learn about his immortality first?  He should have wooed her and allowed her to make the choice herself.  Now, his entire life stood in jeopardy.  Herculea had fled
with
The
Immortality Abyss
, and if she had read it, then he was doomed.  If she had reached the Secret Keeper, a shriveling old man doubtlessly ravenous to reclaim his stolen youth, then Pedro ran the risk of staying immortal, but not as he was now.  No, if Herculea joined forces with the Secret Keeper, Pedro would be ever trapped in the deteriorating body of an old man.

Pedro
cringed to think of his earlier arrogant text message to her.  It had just been a ruse.  He was not confident of anything.  He was terrified to his very core.  Out of the shadows, one of the stray cats meowed and rubbed flirtatiously against his calf.

Looking down at the feline, Pedro shook his head use
lessly.  “Oh, why can’t I have nine
lives that
come to an end instead of one that will never end?!”

His voice sounded pathetic to his own ears, and Pedro’s signature hard shell began to form around his heart again.  He was not vanquished, nor would he allow himself to be.  Ever.  The Silver Goddess had already wrought enough damage by banishing him from the island.  If they had never parted, there would have been no need to scour the globe searching for a replacement mate for the lo
ng road of eternity.  And then t
he Secret Keeper would be harmlessly locked away in his lonely cottage, an old man forever.

“NO!” Pedro bellowed.

In a furious instant,
Pedro resolved
to
crash upon
the shores leading to
the Island of Vinova.  Though he could
not
set foot on
Vinova
, he could
land near
the water, wait
ing patiently for Herculea and t
he Secret Keeper to arrive.  Once he found them, it would be easy to tackle the frail old man and drag him onto his
jet.  Yes, he would kidnap the old man and bring him back to the cottage where he belonged.  And board it up.  Tightly.  Then, he would return to claim Herculea.
Pedro rubbed his hands together in anticipation of his victory.

Herculea would
have to learn to love him.  The eternity of luxury and jetsetting he had to offer would entice any woman.  He would never allow her to reverse her immortality.  His plan was flawless.  Pedro chuckled under his breath and wrung his hands together listlessly.  All he needed to do
was
stop them before they got to the island
.  With his lavish wealth, procured in a host of unsavory ways over the decades, that shouldn’t be hard to
do at all.  His jet
w
ould
land
by nightfall.

Chapter 10

The helicopter’s propellers whirled around dizzyingly and deafeningly as the aircraft ascended.
The taxi ride had just been the first leg of the journey.  The pending helicopter ride would be followed by a boat trip to the Island of Vinova.
Sandwiched between Herculea and the pilot, the Secret Keeper wore a courageous face.  Herculea imagined that this was the most exciting thing to happen to the man in years.  Living so reclusively in that cottage certainly hadn’t cracked his spirit.  If anything, Herculea believed those seemingly endless years of solitude and suffering had all culminated on this day, on this earsplitting helicopter ride.

Kent, on the other hand, looked out the window anxiously, as the helicopter rose shakily above the treetops.  The pilot seemed competent enough, but Kent had a fear of helicopters and other small aircraft
s
.  He had heard too many stories on the news of disaster flights.  Herculea seemed to decipher his thoughts as she placed her hand firmly on his forearm and gave him an impromptu kiss on the cheek.  He didn’t bother trying to talk to her over the racket of the helicopter.  Instead, he enjoyed this rare moment
of
non-verbal communication and rubbed the palm of her hand firmly against his.

Oxygen was scarce inside the overheated helicopter, and Herculea tried to ward off a wave of nausea.  Mentally, she returned to her yoga practice, going through the series of relaxing poses in her head and trying to recapture some of the peace they had brought
her.  She began a round of
breathing, inhaling into the belly, ribcage, and top of the lungs fully before expelling all the air slowly.  Herculea repeated the breath several times, but could not stop the frenetic beating of her heart or the beads of sweat that formed on her brow.  Herculea willed herself not to become sick.

The pilot shouted something incoherent in Portuguese and pointed out the window.  Herculea blinked in the overwhelming sun an
d saw waves of seawater crash
against
the
shoreline.  Gratefully, she smiled at the pilot, knowing that the nauseating helicopter ride would be over in a matter of minutes and they would land on the beach.

Herculea’s stomach dipped and lurched as the pilot began the turbulent descent onto the empty shoreline.  Wishing that she felt well enough to admire the stark beauty of this deserted Brazilian beach, Herculea instead focused on keeping a rein over her queasy stomach.  The Secret Keeper, meanwhile, looked like a child riding a roller coaster for the first time.  The expression on his face was pure glee.  Kent remained stone-faced and pensive as he continued to rub Herculea’s hand.

The din from the helicopter was becoming intolerable to Herculea’s strained eardrums, which she thought might pop at any moment.  The pilot let out a satisfied “whoop” as he steered the helicopter safely onto the sand.  Herculea did not know why he looked so pleased with himself.  The man had stopped dangerously close to the water.  If he had
landed just a few seconds sooner, they might have fatally plunged into the murky Atlantic Ocean.  This fact did not escape Kent either.  He gave the pilot a gruff handshake and tight smile while shoving a wad of cash into his hand.

Kent
squirmed
to maneuver his large body off the helicopter.  As Herculea followed closely behind him, she overheard the pilot talking to the Secret Keeper in spitfire Portuguese.  Although she couldn’t understand a word of their discussion, the pilot’s tone sounded as if he were giving instructions.

The Secret Keeper nodde
d amiably and gave the pilot a brief
hug and slap on the back.  Clearly, this was a day at the amusement park for him, even without an actual roller coaster.

“Are you ready to sail the sea?” He asked cheerfully, waving goodbye to the pilot as the helicopter took off.

“Not without a watercraft.” Kent retorted wryly.

“Of course not!” The Secret Keeper chuckled.  “
Of course there are no commercial boats that go to Vinova
.  So, we can pay a private yacht owner to take us there.”

“And how far are we right about now?” Kent queried.

“Not far at all according to my map.” Herculea unfolded the frayed and crumpled parchment.  “Look how close the pilot brought us.”

She placed her finger over the tiny point in the sea where the Island of Vinova lay. It looked so innocuous on the map, Herc
ulea thought.  E
xotic and exciting out there in the deep of the ocean.  No one looking at the map would ever guess that it was a place so foreboding, concealing so many
unorthodox
secrets.

Kent examined the map with narrowed eyes.  “By my measurem
ent, the island is less than 200
miles away.” He frowned suddenly and added, “That means we’ll arrive in the dark.  I don’t think that’s a wise idea.”

“Well, we really don’t have a choice, do we?  We can’t sleep here on the beach.” Herculea said.

Kent glanced over his shoulder at the Secret Keeper who had removed his shoes and was dipping his bare feet in the ocean.  It was hard to be angry at the old crone; the fellow had such a childlike innocence about him.  Still, the old man’s presence grated on his nerves.  If the Secret Keeper
were back at his cottage, things would be much different.  The idea of sleeping on the beach would not seem so outlandish if it were just he and Herculea, rather than the two of them plus this benevolent but bothersome old man.

Kent looked around him at the picturesque sand dunes and flocking sea gulls.  It would be such a perfect setting to romance Herculea and finally show her, with his mouth and body, how he really felt.  He sighed in frustration and looked back at Herculea, who was staring at him quizzically waiting for an answer.

“I suppose we can’t sleep here on the beach.” Kent finally admitted.

“Right.  So, we have to find a yacht owner this afternoon and take our chances getting there after dark.” Herculea shrugged resolutely.  “Actually, we might be safer than if we arrived in daylight.” She observed.

“How’s that now?” Kent quipped in classic British style.

Herculea grinned and replied, “Because nobody will see us.  We don’t even know if they have electricity on this island.  It could be pitch black.  And if it is, then we can get our bearings and hide if necessary.”

“Get our bearings and hide?” Kent repeated incredulously.  “Do you hear yourself, Herculea?”

She shot him a stubborn and sullen look.  “Yes, that’s what I said.”

Kent shook his head in exasperation.  “And how do you figure we’ll get our bearings in the dead of night?”

“I don’t know, Kent!” Herculea cried, rapidly losing patience.  “Nothing about this entire trip makes sense, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can help me rather than trying to sabotage me with your incessant logic!”

Kent couldn’t resist a chuckle.  He knew very well that his logical mind was both gift and flaw.  Perhaps this whole ludicrous experience would serve as a test for him.  Was he incurably rigid, or could he manage to let go?  Could he tap into his spontaneous and daring side---if such a side did indeed exist?

Without another lucid thought, he grabbed Herculea and thrust her against his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her.  She stared up at him with those wild
dark
eyes and parted her lips in surprise.  He took advantage of the vulnerable moment to press his lips against hers in a reckless, emotive kiss that bordered on savagery.  To his delight, she relaxed against him and reciprocated the kiss with her own intoxicating brand of passion.  Eagerly, she allowed him to slide his tongue into her mouth as he gripped her hips and moved them in circles against him.

Her body felt more fiery than the sunstar that blazed over them relentlessly, baking their flesh and elevating their temperatures to feverish levels.  Herculea moaned femininely as his hands continued to work her hips in a globe-like motion while he plundered her mouth desperately.  She could feel his hardness pressing into her hips as he lifted her slightly off the ground in his capable embrace.

She yelped in protest as he suddenly broke off the kiss.  Herculea opened her eyes to behold Kent staring intensely at her swollen lips.

“Nothing logical about that.” He muttered hoarsely as his breathing came in ragged puffs.

Both speechless and breathless, Herculea merely nodded her assent.  Her body felt shockingly hot and moist.  She wanted more than anything for him to rip both their clothes off and make love to her on the burning sand.  She didn’t care if the sand scorched their
bodies or if the sun burned them to a crisp.  All she wanted in this moment was to feel the weight of Kent’s strong torso bearing down on her own as he penetrated her and
thrust
away all their worries.

That kiss had been nearly seven years in the making, she thought.  The chemistry she had sensed between them had not been imaginary.  Every passionate look in his eyes, every soothing touch of his hand---everything had been real.  She basked in that knowledge, not taking her eyes from the crystal blue orbs that sparkled even more brilliantly against the backdrop of the ocean.  She could swim in those oceanic eyes, swim all the way across the Atlantic as the earth tilted on its axis and rendered her heart a glorious, helter-skelter mess.