Sunburn (10 page)

Just as the other Muse girls spun Angie and Doris into the arms of a couple of appreciative men, Uma whirled Patience around and around until she was properly situated under the poolside
palapa
where they taught dance. Landing her right in Apollo’s waiting arms.

Patience gawked at him as he held her. “You again?”

Still unable to help herself, she leaned toward him, wanting to bury her nose in his skin. He smelled so good, although she couldn’t quite place the scent. It was sort of like … sunlight.

He gazed at her, his eyes sensuous and slightly hooded. The corners of his delicious lips curling in the merest of smiles. “What did you expect? Dancing is naturally part of the ultimate Mayan Riviera experience. And a wonderful way to relax, which is, as we’ve established, something you need to learn.”

God, he could be so charming when he wanted to be! Well, so could Foster. And look where that got her. She tried to steer her gaze away from his eyes, but it was virtually impossible. Especially in light of the way he looked at her. His all-seeing eyes dipped to the collar of her tank top, tracing its line over her shoulders, coming to rest on the three ornamental buttons over her cleavage.

“Nice buttons,” he whispered, as if he wanted to rip them from the fabric to get at what was underneath. His full lips thinned with what looked suspiciously like desire.

Patience almost asked someone to open a window she was feeling so hot, but then realized they were already outside.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she blabbered. “After all, you own this resort, and I’m here to review it. How can I remain impartial with all this special attention?”

She was about to say more but one of the Muses started the music on her boom box and spoke into her microphone. “Hi, beautiful humans! I’m Tiffany, and I’m your dance instructor today. Yay!” There was a rousing applause and several dog hoots from all the men gathered there, while all the women tried not to look like sweaty hogs next to the radiant Muses. Tiffany continued. “We’re just going to teach the basics. Everybody, watch me! I’ll demonstrate the first couple of moves.”

As the sultry percussion and soulful voice of Celia Cruz filled the air, making the atmosphere pulse with eroticism, the beautiful girl took a few steps. She swung her hips with a lusty grace, rolling her shoulders with pornographic ease. “There! It’s as easy as that!”

Patience almost laughed at all the dried-up male tongues in the audience. Until she realized the only man whose eyes weren’t trained on Tiffany was Apollo. He was focused on her. Good ol’ Patience O’Connor. Overweight and in over her head.

“I was wondering something,” he murmured into her ear while pulling her close to his swaying, hard body.

She waited for him to continue but couldn’t move because his mouth was still so close to her ear. It would take nothing at all for him to nibble on her lobe, a move that sent her around the sexual bend. His warm breath was on her neck, and her pussy was reacting, sending out sweet moisture yet again. Fluttering for him.

“Uh-huh?” she uttered.

His deep laughter danced down her spine with a shiver. “If you dance as well as you operate a Segway, I may just have to throw you over my shoulder.”

With that, Apollo surprised her by twirling her around the dance floor with the ease of one who performed for a living. And then, as the other beginner couples shuffled through their awkward moves, Apollo shimmied with her as if their bodies were meant to move together.

Patience was flabbergasted. She wasn’t doing a thing and yet she glided along with him as if the moves were ingrained in her soul. She could barely feel her own feet moving. He was just leading her and making her feel like a pro. They could have won trophies for their performance it was so effortless.

It made her wonder how well he moved when off the dance floor.

“How are you doing this?” she asked. “I’m a horrible dancer. Last year, I tried line dancing for the first time. I was so bad at it, I almost killed my partner when my cowboy boot went flying.”

He stared at her lips, the hot blue of his eyes searing her. “You just had the wrong partner.”

She gulped. Something about Apollo was making her think she’d always had the wrong partner. Until now.

No. Stop it right this minute!

The man might be a buff resort owner, but he was clearly a liar. And there was something not quite right about him. He was too perfect, too golden. He was unlike any man she’d ever known. It was as if God had plucked every gorgeous athlete ever known to man off the earth, squished them together into one sexy ball of hotness, and called the result “Apollo.”

Who is this man?

The sounds of a nearby argument intruded on her thoughts. Patience looked toward the noise. A couple of the men in the dance group had crowded around the lovely Tiffany. Neither of them appeared to appreciate the other’s presence. Each man grabbed one of Tiffany’s hands, warning the other away. Before long, insults and threats turned into a physical scuffle, with the men pushing and shoving. Tiffany looked torn and the men seemed crazed. Their eyes were wild and bright, alive with jealousy, as they fought over a woman they hadn’t known for more than five minutes.

Apollo swore under his breath. He turned to Patience and looked deeply into her eyes. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll handle this.”

Those little suns swam in front of her face again, and she realized she wasn’t going anywhere. Feeling foggy, her vision somewhat blurred, she watched Apollo. She expected him to haul the two snarling men off each other, but he simply headed to Tiffany. He whispered something to the girl, who looked down in shame. Tiffany’s bottom lip protruded in a sensual pout. Intrigued, Patience stumbled toward them, wanting to hear their exchange.

Apollo was still muttering. “You’re the Muse of dance, by Zeus! Maybe you shouldn’t be the one teaching dance. These men can’t resist you.”

“I don’t want them to resist me. I like them, Apollo.”

“Fix this! I won’t have brawling on my resort, Terpsichore!”

Terpsichore? Hadn’t she said her name was Tiffany? What kind of name was Terpsichore anyway?

Tiffany/Terpsichore approached the men, who were now rolling on the floor. She leaned over and whispered, “Don’t fight. You can both have me.”

Patience had to stop her eyes from bugging out.
Both?
What kind of resort was this? She’d put this in her blog.

The men immediately stopped fighting and got off the floor. As Apollo walked back to Patience, Tiffany walked off with the two men who’d fought over her. Hand in hand with both of them, headed toward the villas. The men had glazed expressions of delirium.

As the rest of the crowd dissipated, Apollo joined her. “Sorry. Dance lesson’s over for now.”

“What’s going on here? And what kind of name is Terpsichore?”

He stared at her, frowning, obviously miffed she’d heard his remarks to his staff member. He looked as if he were choosing his words. “It’s a Greek name. She changed it to Tiffany, so customers wouldn’t struggle with it.”

“And what was all that Muse of dance business,
by Zeus?
”

His jaw tensed. His face reddened. He looked annoyed to the extreme. “Excuse me, Patience. I have some business to attend to in my office.” He inclined his head toward her. “Have a nice day.”

And then he turned away and stalked down the pathway to the main building. Doris and Angie crept up behind her.

“What was all that about?” Angie inquired.

“You scared him away with your talk of toilets, didn’t you?” asked Doris, glaring.

Patience didn’t reply. She was too busy watching Apollo run from her. Just before he disappeared from view, he plucked a pretty hibiscus blossom from a nearby bush, wadded it, and tossed it into the shrubbery.

* * * *

The Travel Chick

Update

Please note: I may not post any more updates for a while.

Something weird is happening here.

Chapter 7

Patience spent the rest of the afternoon lounging in the busy lobby, catching up on her writing and e-mails. It was lovely in the lobby. Tropical breezes caressed her face. People smiled and laughed as they chatted at the bar. A classical guitarist performed on the small stage there, strumming and singing Spanish love songs. Angie and Doris had begged her to go shopping with them in Playa del Carmen, but she’d opted out, preferring to stick close to the resort.

She didn’t feel right. Physically, she was just fine. Emotionally, not so much.

There was something wrong with Apollo. She’d made him mad with her questions and didn’t understand why. After all, he’d asked her some questions and she’d been honest enough with him. Brutally honest. Why couldn’t he be honest with her and explain his apparent superhero powers?

He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, impossibly breathtaking. He was a so-called expert first aider, although that was bullshit. He seemed to be able to fly, or at least move with unearthly grace, as evidenced in the alligator pen. Not to mention the fact he danced like a dream and doled out devastating kisses better than Rudy goddamn Valentino.

Oh yeah, and he owned the most luxurious resort she’d ever seen. Was there anything he couldn’t do?

The waitress dropped off the virgin daiquiri she’d ordered, and she took a peeved slurp. As the icy drink coursed down her gullet, she was hit with a rampaging case of brain freeze. Wincing, she thought of Apollo again.

Had she hurt his feelings with all the questions? Maybe he was just a private person.

Damn. She shouldn’t care. What was he to her anyway? Besides, she shouldn’t be getting too close, not with the work she was trying to do. This whole ultimate Mayan Riviera experience was a joke. As resort owner, he was likely just trying to win her favor for a glowing review.

A warm shiver traveled down her spine. Swallowing, feeling eyes upon her, she turned toward the lobby bar. Apollo was there, talking to a staff member. Watching her, and looking only a little less pissed than before.

Every time she looked about, he was there. Looking like a malcontent guardian angel.

She shook her head and turned back to her laptop. Without really knowing why, she pulled up Google and typed in the best spelling she could come up with for the word “Terpsichore.” The first citation caught her eye.

“In Greek mythology, Terpsichore was one of the nine Muses, goddesses of the arts. Together, they served as inspiration for an ancient culture and were worshipped all over Greece. They lived on Mount Parnassus with their acknowledged leader, Apollo, god of the sun, music, and healing.”

A low tremor rippled through her core. An uneasiness she couldn’t, and didn’t want to, face.

Apollo. God. Sun. Music. Healing.

Her skin erupted in goose pimples. Her face blanched. She felt ready to faint, but couldn’t let herself sink into the oblivion she so suddenly craved. She read it again, sure she’d misread something.

Apollo, god of the…

She turned back to the bar to look at him. He wasn’t at the bar. He was standing right next to her. Looking at the article on her computer screen with his fists clenched. His eyelids fluttered. As they did, the golden shimmer of his eyelashes caught her eye, making her head swim. Making her see those damned suns again. He turned to her. The blue of his diamond eyes pierced her with a scintillating force, rendering her weak and small.

On anyone else, eyes were just eyes. On him, they had the power to raze and ruin. Or ensnare.

She forced herself to look back, although she didn’t understand what she was looking at anymore. Terrified, but drawn to him, she forced herself to speak. “We need to talk.”

His angry eyes burned into her, as if he’d already made a judgment. “It’s a discussion you don’t want to have.”

“Try me.”

He laughed, his nostrils flaring with bitter amusement. “Not here.”

She stood and pointed to a quiet alcove in the lobby. “Fine. Over there?”

Once more, he chortled, the tone in his voice cutting. “No, Patience. Somewhere more private.” He put out his hand. “Take my hand.”

She stared at his large hand. The hand she’d already imagined on her body hundreds of times. Caressing. Squeezing. Pinching. Penetrating. Should she really take it now? Because she had the distinct impression if she did, her world would change.

Patience paused, biting her lip. And took Apollo’s hand.

The strangest thing happened then. Apollo disappeared. No one else noticed. And at the same time, she realized her body was dissolving into a fine mist.

* * * *

Apollo had them rematerialize in his villa. At least there he wouldn’t have to worry about prying eyes, or having to place spells of forgetfulness on the tourists in the lobby. By all that was holy, he couldn’t keep erasing people’s memories! At this rate, no one would remember their vacation.

As they arrived in his room, he let go of Patience’s hand, even though it was so soft he didn’t want to. Still, she was freaked out as it was. She didn’t need him clinging to her.

She took shape in his room. Hot pink shorts hugging her curves. That cute tank top with the buttons, stretching across her perfect rack. Those chocolate-brown waves. Her eyes wide with fear and amazement.

She blinked a few times. “Um. I think I prefer to take the Segway next time.”

Fuck
. What was he supposed to say to her?
You know that Greek god you’ve been reading about? Guess who’s coming to dinner?
He grunted, not liking that approach. “Patience, about that article on Google…”

She put her hand up and proceeded to pace the floor in front of his bed. Her hand was shaking, but she was clearly trying to control the situation. Fine. He’d let her feel she was in charge. It was a lot to digest. He plunked on his bed, feeling a headache coming on, and rested his elbows on his knees.

She turned to him, eyes bright. “I’m really hoping you’re a magician. Like, of the David Copperfield caliber.” And then she grimaced, as if fearing she sounded insane.

He let out a puff of air. “Well, I’ve been called worse.”