Tempting Eden (2 page)

“You’re to handpick the men who will be
involved in his campaign,” Franco said, as though he hadn’t
spoken.

“Men?” Bastian looked from Franco to Otes.
“How many am I supposed to send?”

“The more trustworthy as you can spare,” Otes
said.

“The whole idea of the Guardians was to keep
the continent safe from humans. Whenever one got close to
discovering us we made sure they were removed. They are a threat to
us. If we’re discovered they’ll destroy everything we’ve built. Or
have you forgotten Dr. Rabbin and the disaster he caused?”

“No one has forgotten,” Franco said.
“Something must be done to preserve our race.”

“So what do you intend for us to do? Bring
them here and rape them? We are better than that. All of us.”
Bastian’s gaze landed on each of the men and one woman in the room,
daring them. Glaring at them.

Disgust crawled through Sabre. He was
revolted by the thought of what they wanted. And clearly so was his
general by the way he leaned forward on the table, his hands
clenched so tight his knuckles were white. Sabre’s stomach twisted
in a tight knot. The hope they’d found a way for their women to
have children died within him. Worry for his sister gnawed at him.
What would become of her?

“No, we wouldn’t do any of those things,”
Otes said. “As the doctor said they must be willing to come along.
What I’m proposing is sending several of your most elite warriors
to the top to find suitable mates to bring back to us.”

“And how will the women survive the trip down
here? They cannot breathe as we can. Even if they could the
pressure would kill them.”

“The subject will be injected with a serum
allowing her to be brought here without drowning. I will distribute
a syringe to the men you chose to send. I also have a specially
designed wet suit for the women to wear. It will protect their
bodies.”

Bastian clenched his jaw. “And then what
happens to the women?”

“They will be turned over to our team of
scientists to be impregnated,” Franco said.

Such coldness. Sabre stared at the doctor.
Everything about the doctor grated on his nerves.

“You intend to impregnate them in a lab?”
Bastian asked.

“Yes. The subject will be monitored from the
time of conception until the time the baby is delivered. We cannot
afford to lose the babies.”

“The subject, doctor? You talk as though this
isn’t a thinking feeling human. A
woman
. Human or Atlantean,
they shouldn’t be treated this way,” Bastian said.

And Sabre couldn’t agree more.

“I’ve had several meetings with the top
executives. We believe this is the only way,” Otes said.

Bastian pinned his glare on the lone woman in
the room. “You too, Vice President Invonna? You believe this is the
only way?”

Her eyes fluttered downward staring at her
hands clasped in her lap. “I agreed to it too.”

Sabre thought she may have agreed to it but
that didn’t mean she liked it.

“It’s in direct conflict with everything
we’ve worked to protect. It’s too dangerous. I won’t do it and I
won’t order my men to do it.” Bastian leaned back in his chair as
though his decision was final.

Franco and Otes exchanged a glance. One that
sent a cold chill up Sabre’s spine.

“We thought you’d say that,” Otes said.

The door burst open and three regulators
entered with guns drawn.

“I’m sorry to have to do this to you,
general, but you give me no choice. You’re under arrest and will be
taken to a holding cell,” Otes said. Though he didn’t sound
remorseful at all.

“You can’t do this to me,” he growled.

“As president I can. I will order your men to
the surface to bring us the females. I’m not letting our
civilization die because one man stands in the way.” He gave a nod
to the regulator behind him.

Bastian was pulled from his seat and cuffed.
“You will regret this decision, Mr. President.”

“Perhaps. Take him away.”

The regulators led him from the conference
room but Bastian wasn’t going to leave without having the last
word.

“Sabre, find a way to stop this madness! We
cannot allow this to happen!”

One of the regulators punched Bastian in the
head to make him stop talking. He crumpled in half but they dragged
his dead weight through the conference room doors. That left Sabre
alone with the president, Dr. Franco and the others.

“Now, colonel, shall we discuss what needs to
be done?” President Otes asked. It was his turn to lace his fingers
and lean on the table. And he looked menacing. Not at all like the
congenial man who had been elected.

“What’s to discuss? I follow General Bastian
and his orders.”

“No longer.” Otes shook his head. “From now
on you report to me. You do as I say. Your general is no longer in
command of you or the Guardians.”

“You would force us to do this?”

“To save our race I would do anything,” Otes
said.

And Sabre truly believed that. It was
disgusting. He never thought the president was that way but now his
actions proved it.

“Do you intend to follow your general’s
orders?”

Sabre pressed his tongue to the roof of his
mouth. However he answered he would be screwed. He remained
silent.

“That’s what I thought. If you refuse then
know this. Your sister, the beautiful and lovely Helene, will
die.”

Fiery anger spread through him. In a
lightning fast move Sabre reached across the table and had the
president by the collar of his fine suit, the material crumpling in
his fist. “You dare threaten her?”

The others jumped to their feet but Otes
waved them back. So calm. As though unflustered by the hold Sabre
had on him.

“She is your last remaining family member, is
she not?” Otes had a smirk on his slimy face. “If you and your men
don’t bring us the females as ordered then prepare to make her
funeral arrangements.”

Slowly Sabre released the president and sat
back down. He smoothed his hands over his uniform tunic willing
himself to be calm.

“I’m glad you see it our way. Dr. Franco, you
may prepare for the human female’s arrival.”

They rose one by one and filed out of the
room. As they left Sabre knew he couldn’t risk Helene’s life. No
matter what. He had no choice but to disobey his general.

Eden found herself alone with the sweaty,
leering man. He reeked of three dollar cologne and too much beer.
He wore a cheap polyester shirt in the most obnoxious print she had
ever seen unbuttoned to show off what little chest hair he had.

All that was missing was a thick gold chain
complete with a gold medallion around his pencil neck. He had
cornered her in the kitchen, leaning his elbow on the counter and
telling her grotesque jokes in the hopes of making her laugh.

I’m in hell.

Could this get any worse? He was the third
guy to hit on her in less than an hour.

Her best friend, Gillian, meant well bringing
her here. After Gillian’s winter-long nagging Eden had finally
agreed to all expenses paid getaway to Crooked Island in the
Bahamas with her, her boyfriend and several others. Eden knew her
friend wanted to make her forget her broken heart and her wrecked
life. To relax and cut loose Gilly had said. To get away and forget
it all. Even if it was for a week. She wouldn’t take no for an
answer either—she’d handed Eden the plane ticket.

Eden had a passing fancy for all things
Atlantis. She looked at the trip as a way to imagine herself as
someone different. An archeologist on a trip to find artifacts. A
diver plunging to the depths looking for evidence. It sounded so
much better than unemployed data analyst. She’d done a little
island exploring pretending she was searching for the lost city
looking for a stud who could take her away from it all.

It had been six months since her two-year
relationship had ended in disaster. She thought her long-time
boyfriend was about to pop the question. Instead she got a
different surprise—finding him in their bed with his face firmly
planted between another girl’s legs.

It had nearly destroyed her. Sent her
spiraling into a dark depression.

She’d tried to survive by pouring herself
into work. But even that had come to an abrupt end when her company
downsized leaving her unemployed. With virtually no savings the
late bill notices came next followed by the repossession of her car
and the eviction notice. She had no family to turn to for help. Her
life was a shambles.

I’m pathetic and in hell.

Eden hated the memories as much as she hated
the stifling atmosphere in the small confines of the kitchen. It
was the one room in the house where the music didn’t thump through
her bones. Unable to bear another dirty joke she quaffed her
martini and set the empty glass next to the offending man’s
elbow.

“Excuse me, Tom, won’t you?”

“It’s Tim,” he corrected, unflustered. “And I
wasn’t finished with my story yet. As I was saying we’d boarded the
boat when the weather kicked up—”

She brushed by him to make her escape out of
the kitchen.

“Where you going, babe?”

She gave a half-hearted wave in response.

“Okay, so I’ll call you.”

Pretending not to hear him splutter she
threaded her way through the crowd, her eye on the prize—the exit.
She caught a glimpse of a couple making out in a corner. Others
chatted and laughed or danced as close as they could get without
actually having sex. It turned her already-sour stomach to see
them. The music was too loud, the air acrid with cigarette smoke,
sweaty bodies and beer. She needed away from the house before she
suffocated.

“Where are you going?” Gillian snatched her
by the arm as she reached the door.

“I need some air,” Eden said.

“You can’t leave now. Paul really wants to
get to know you better.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Eden glanced over at the man who was too
suave and too debonair for her and rolled her eyes. Good-looking,
six-foot-tall Paul who’d recently divorced. Another man who was not
her kind of guy.

Who is my kind of man? Not the super rich or
the super smarmy. I need someone who will love me and protect
me.

Besides Paul reminded her too much of her
ex-boyfriend and Mr. Cheap-Oh reminded her too much of a snake.
Paul winked and gave her a knowing smile.

“Have another drink,” Gillian insisted,
waving at Paul to bring a freshly made martini.

“I’ve had enough drinks,” Eden said dryly.
Even now the third martini she’d finished pounded through her veins
and her head.

“Paul’s bringing you another,” Gillian
persisted. “Give him a chance. He likes you.”

“Is that code for he wants to fuck me?”

“Do you have to be so crass, Eden?” She
pulled out her snooty tone.

“Do you have to be a matchmaker, Gilly?” Eden
replied using the same snooty tone. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Well maybe that’s what you need. A good
hard…” She paused, dropped her voice. “Fuck. You need to fill that
void. If anything can mend a broken heart it’s a wild fling. And
not burying your head in books about silly things.”

“Silly things? You mean because I love
learning about lost civilizations?” Eden knew she referred to how
she’d spent a good portion of time catching up on reading while
waiting for callbacks from potential employers. “You know the only
reason I came on this trip was because of the location.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Gilly rolled her eyes.
“You think Atlantis is under the Caribbean.”

“The theory is it’s lost under the Bermuda
Triangle,” Eden said. She couldn’t help the smile playing at the
corners of her mouth. For as long as she’d known Gilly her friend
had always poked fun at Eden for her fanciful thinking that
Atlantis was real and someday scientists would prove it.

Eden saw Paul had nearly made his way to them
and a flicker of dread went through her.

“I need to get out of here. I’m going for a
walk, okay? I need to be alone for a little while.”

“Eden—”

But she gave her the slip as Paul joined them
with martini in hand. The door banged closed behind her shutting
out the music, the laughter and the cheerfulness. She left behind
the stuffy beach house and made her way toward the surf.

Eden sighed. She wasn’t interested in being
cheered up. She preferred self-pity and nursing her broken heart to
some shallow relationship.

Maybe Gillian was right though. Maybe she did
need a fling. A good hard fuck. No commitment. No strings. No
nothing. Pure, wild, passionate, hot sex. With a man who would
demand nothing in return and help her forget all her troubles. A
man who could make her heart flutter, make her weak in the knees,
make her orgasm with a flick of his tongue on her clit.

She snorted.
Yeah, as if. That will never
happen.

Sex with the former love of her life—again
she snorted—was never that. It was calm. Vanilla at best. Nothing
to fantasize over or crave. He’d always tried to get her to talk to
him to tell him what she wanted but she never could. She was too
shy, too reserved. Oh sure the sex had been okay. But what she
really wanted—needed—was someone to make her blood boil. Make her
pulse race. Make her heart palpitate. And—she blushed—make her clit
throb.

She wanted someone to give her
earth-shattering orgasms with his mouth and his hard cock. She
wanted someone to fuck her hard—from behind. She’d never done that
before. And she flushed at the thought. It was so…carnal. So
animalistic. So reckless.

I wish someone could make me feel like
that.

At the water’s edge Eden paused, listening to
the crashing surf. Her lungs thanked her for breathing in the clean
crisp air. The sound of the waves soothed her.

Moonlight sparked on the dark sapphire waters
of the Caribbean. She slipped off her sandals and let the cool sand
sink between her toes. Glorious. The water ebbed and flowed out of
reach of her feet. Her skirt swirled around her thighs. Her tangled
chestnut hair blew in her face.