Sun God Seeks...surrogate? (15 page)

Kinich admired Viktor’s sense of responsibility. “Very respectable of you, Viktor, but I am sure we will be—”

“I insist.” Viktor’s eyes simmered with determination.

Kinich gave it a moment’s thought. “Thank you,” he finally replied. He could not deny that having an extra set of skilled warrior hands would be useful, not to mention provide a distraction from Penelope. Kinich knew, without a doubt, he should not be left alone with the human; something about her was far too tempting.

Was it her curvy, athletic body—the body of a female warrior? Perhaps her perfectly round ass? Those dark green eyes, satin-smooth skin, and sensual, soft lips? No. By far, her most tempting feature was her full, plump breasts with those little pink rosebud nipples. The gods themselves couldn’t conceive a more perfect set.

Dammit. Pure temptation. Every goddamned last inch of her.
Kinich ground his teeth with frustration.

As soon as possible, he would find other arrangements for her safety. The world was teetering on a tumultuous precipice, and this distraction was the last thing he needed.

CHAPTER 17

When I woke
this
time—damn, I really needed to stop making this a habit—I was lost. I mean that in both the mental and physical senses of the word.

For starters, I was lying on yet another giant, fluffy bed—
do these people buy bulk and get a discount rate?—
in the center of a spacious, bright room, surrounded by even fluffier burnt-orange pillows. The sandstone-colored walls displayed several headstone-size tablets with hieroglyphics, and on the nightstand, two clay figurines with Mayan headdresses stood back-to-back. Oddly, one resembled Nick, six-pack and all.

At the far end of the room was a large panoramic window overlooking a never-ending stretch of rolling desert with the only green in sight being the impressive saguaro cacti. The gray, angry-looking clouds blanketing the sky were perforated by random beams of sunlight. Something about the way they shined on the desert floor made them seem like spotlights from heaven.

I shook my head from side to side and eased myself from the bed. The clock on the wall said 7:00 a.m. I’d slept through the entire night, but noticed I still wore my karate gi.

Well, that’s something. No one’s changed my clothes. This day might not turn out so bad.

Wait. Your litmus test for a good day is that no one’s taken a gander at your privates while you slept?

Hey, considering all of the other crap…Cringe.

Memories, dark and disturbing, jackhammered my mind; a monster appearing out of nowhere, pulling me from Cimil’s cab—
WTH, that woman really drove a cab?—
the scummy-looking dudes in leather jackets pulling up in the black van—something was seriously wrong with them, like they’d forgotten their souls at home along with any sense of hygiene. And that man appearing right out of thin air.
And—
I sighed—“Nick…”

“You called?”

The sexiest male specimen I could ever hope to see, in this lifetime or the next, occupied a predominant percentage of the space inside the door frame. I didn’t know what made my girly bits more peppy, his sizzling smile—could melt my panties right off—or his deeply bronzed, hard chest and ripped abs or his…My eyes traveled toward the South Pole.

Swoon alert! Don’t fall over. Don’t fall over…

For heaven’s sake, the man wore nothing but a towel; nonetheless, my mind had no issue filling in the blanks.
Or the uhhh…what’s the opposite of “blank”?
’Cause his man-treat was a far cry from a word defined as a void or a space. Space shuttle, yes.
With supersized landing gear. And a glorious moon, right around the corner—firm, round, and solid as a rock
.

In any case, horny little space analogies aside, my body didn’t seem to give a hoot if my memory of that night with Kinich was fictional; as far as it was concerned, he’d rocked my world and it wanted another go.

Stupid body.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly as barren as the desert outside. “Nick. Mind telling me how I got all the way to…?”

“Sedona.” One corner of his mouth curled.

Oh, that
smile…

“What was I saying?” I asked.

He laughed.

I amuse you, do I?
That moved the needle from lusty fog to ticked off.

He must have noticed the steam spewing from my ears, because he suddenly offered, “I will tell you everything. But first, let me hunt down some breakfast. You’ll need your strength for this.”

“But I…”

He turned and disappeared down the hall before I could protest.

Well, great. I’m all gross and crusty, and the gorgeous, infuriating man wants to cook for me.

“I’m taking a shower first!” I called out to an empty space.

I surveyed the room for fresh clothes, surprised to discover my belongings from my overnight bag neatly stowed inside the walk-in closet that happened to be the size of my entire apartment back in New York.

I grabbed a comfy pink tee, jeans, bra, and undies and scampered off to the attached bathroom, where my jaw dropped.

“Holy deviled ham,” I whispered. It was exactly like the photos I’d seen in Cosmo—yes, yes. Right next to that article about the Orgasm Whisperer. I wanted to live in this bathroom. I wanted to die in this bathroom. I wanted to
be
this bathroom. Sunken Jacuzzi tub for four surrounded by fresh white candles, clear glass bowls filled with lavender bath salts, and bottles of infused oils; white wicker sitting area with a cappuccino machine and mini-fridge; and a shower big enough to bathe a small nation.

Saints. Every girl deserves a bathroom like this
.

In two minutes flat the tub was filled—another amazing feature—and I lowered myself into the steaming-hot suds. The tips of my cold toes and the ache in my back melted away. The only thing missing was…

Kinich.

I’m hopeless.

“So. That’s where you disappeared to.” His cocoa-brown face and shimmering turquoise eyes hovered over me.

I sucked in a fortifying breath to keep from turning into a soggy little globule of neediness.

Fact: He took my breath away. He created a vacuum in my mental atmosphere.

Fact: I wanted this man. More than my date with five-star Mr. Bubble.

Fact: Something about him wasn’t right, and I was about to find out why.

Fiction: I was going to keep my cool.

He observed the sudsy water rippling over my body, masking my bareness.

“Sorry,” I said nervously. “I really missed my bathtub. And what a surprise! You have the exact same one as me.”

Nick raised one brow.

“Kidding.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “I wondered how that might be possible. The tub was custom built by a man in Japan who only accepts gold bullion as payment.”

I flashed him a questioning frown.

“That was a joke,” he said. “Who carries around gold bullion these days?”

“Not me. Bullion is heavy. I prefer gold coins,” I said facetiously.

“Exactly. So much easier to transport and hide.”

Ummm…yeah.

“I was about to get out,” I said. “So if you want to talk—”

“Actually”—he raised his hands, encouraging me to stay put—“It might make what I have to say easier if you’re relaxed.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” My heart thumped away, doing a lowrider bass beat.

“It is neither good nor bad; it simply is what it is.”

Frankly, after all of the weirdness I’d endured, there was no explanation under the sun that could quell me into a state of buying “it simply is what it is.” That’s the sort of thing you’d say about having a big ass or freckles. You might even say that about a rainy day or ugly painting. But not this. No. Because whatever he was about to say, it had to be big. And weird.

I poked the Jacuzzi button to turn off the jets. “I’m listening.”

I’m freaking out.

Nick cleared his throat, his piercing eyes vacillating between the deepest shades of green and aquamarine. “I’ve never had to tell a human this before, so bear with me.”

“Hu—human?”

So glad I peed before I got in the tub.

Nick scratched his chin. His deep, rich-brown stubble, I then noticed, was slightly darker than his golden-streaked hair and thick caramel-colored eyelashes. God, he was gorgeous. It hurt just to look at him. Not that it would stop me.

“No easy way to say this, I suppose,” his voice lowered one octave. “First, I want it made abundantly clear that I do not know why the Maaskab are after you. But I do intend to find out.”

“What’s a Miskeeb?”

“Maaskab.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“Originally, they were a group of Mayan priests who worshipped the dark arts. They pillaged, murdered, and raped, all in the name of their holy quest to gain power. Eventually, their bloodlust triggered the collapse of the Mayan civilization. Today, they are a thousand times stronger and have their sights set much higher.”

Oh shit! And they want me? Me! WTF! Why me? There are, like, what? Seven billion people on the planet. So why me?

I popped out of the water, unable to contain the need to run like a fat little rabbit about to be gobbled down by a hungry wolf. “Please tell me this is joke!”

Nick’s body froze. His eyes wandered leisurely south from my face. “I…I…for gods’ sake woman, you’re so
damned
sexy.”

I blinked and looked down at the sudsy clumps slinking down my bare skin, racing back to the pool of water below.

“Oh!” I crossed my arms over the strategic parts. “Toss me a towel.” It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen my naked glory, but that didn’t mean he had a season pass.

Nick remained motionless staring at my breasts.

I dropped back into the water. “Towel?”

“Sure.” He pointed to a neatly rolled stack near the sink in a wicker basket.

“Funny. Can you toss one over?”

He glanced at the towels and then back to me. A wicked little smile do-si-doed across his face. “Sorry. Fresh out of tosses.”

I huffed in protest. “Fine. Then I’m staying put.”

“Did I ever tell you that I have amazing stamina? I only require one or two hours of sleep each night—oh. Wait. Didn’t have to tell you. Because you’ve lived it. That’s right.”

What? Smug son of a
…“Neither of us is certain we ‘lived’ anything that night. And if we did, who’s to say you impressed me with your awesome stamina?”

“Because there is no other possibility.”

I made a little hiss. “You are so arrogant—”

“Arrogant?” He winked. “Yes, I suppose it’s a gift.”

“Nick. Please, either talk and get this over with or leave so I can get a towel. This isn’t funny.”

The smile melted from his full lips—the full lips I dreamed about sucking and licking. The full lips that, perhaps, had done things to my body, in places and in ways no one had ever attempted.

He stood up straight, and I noticed he was wearing a pair of white linen pants and a button-down shirt—the upper half strategically left open so that the hard ripples of his stomach peeked through the opening.

God, he was delicious. Even his smell did it for me.

He sat down on the edge of the tub and began swirling his finger in the water. “The temperature is cold. Let me heat it up for you.” Within moments, the water jumped ten degrees.

“How did you do that?”

His eyes focused on his swirling finger. “Another gift. There are fourteen of us, each with a set of unique abilities.”

My eyes fixated on his exquisite, flawlessly masculine face. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to see it before, but looking closely, I noticed an odd radiance in his light brown skin. Even the golden highlights in his caramel brown hair seemed to sparkle with flecks of red and gold. And those eyes; when I peered into them, they shimmered with a thousand shades of turquoise, aquamarine, sky blue, and sherbet green.

What was he? Whatever the answer, he couldn’t be human. No.

“G—g—go on,” I mumbled.

“This world is full of mysteries, Penelope. Life-forms of the most amazing sorts. Miracles of nature, of the universe; I am simply another one of those miracles.”

Miracle?

A miracle was walking on water or spontaneous healing. Or the fact
Jersey Shore
hadn’t been canceled yet. Or that a Fudgsicle was only five points.

But if the word “miracle” was indicative of his species, then…

“Oh my God, you’re an angel, aren’t you?”

Kinich’s head snapped up. “Gods no! I’m a…a god. The God of the Sun. Angels are disturbingly fanatical with their do-gooding.” He made a sour, icky face.

Did he just say…
“God? Har har. Very funny.”

He leaned over the edge of the tub, entrancing me with his hypnotic gaze. “Touch your nose.”

My hand shot from the water and my index finger made contact with the tip of my nose. “How did you do that?”

“I am a deity. I have gifts,” he stated blandly.

“That was some mind trick. Come on, Nick, stop messing around.”

“You’d believe I am an angel, but not a god?” He frowned.

“I don’t know what to believe. I’m sitting naked in a tub being told that there’s another species sharing our planet.”

“There are others, too,” he added. “That man who appeared in Helena and Niccolo’s living room, for example, is a vampire, as is Helena.”

“Vampire?” I asked.

“Correct,” he replied.

“Seriously? Like, as in, people who drink blood, walk around in capes, and turn into bats?”

“Bats, no. Capes are optional—Helena, for example, loves floral prints and Hello Kitty.”

Sweet pickled demons on a Triscuit
.
I knew something was off about that family, especially that fangy little…
“The baby, too?”

“Yes,” he replied, “Matty is half vampire.”

Did I want to ask what the other half was? I decided no. With my luck, it would be something over the top like hobbit.