The Ruins (An Avernus Island Tale) (5 page)

“I’ll send some appropriate pieces up for you to choose from,” Suri said. There were several dresses that would look good on Julia Davenport’s long legs. “Size nine?”

Julia nodded.

“Your pack and equipment are over there.”
 

Suri flicked her fingers toward the table, her nails red instead of orange.
 

Impossible
, Julia thought and surreptitiously looked closer. Suri’s nails were definitely painted a deep, come-fuck-me red. She must have been mistaken earlier. Either that or the red appeared orange in the island sun.
 

Julia dismissed the unimportant issue and went to examine the equipment. The backpack and most of the gear appeared new and several pieces still had the tags on them.

“I left everything out,” Suri said. “I thought you might want to check to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

Julia was surprised at the insightful gesture. Her father had drilled it into her head that you always pack your own gear. It would seem she had misjudged Suri. “Everything looks great, thanks.”

“No problem.” Suri headed for the door. “I’m going to see what I can find for you to wear tonight. Pound-nine will put you through to my cell,” she said, pointing to the phone. “Zero gets you the operator; she can book any of the services you want.”

Julia waited for Suri to leave before stepping out on the balcony. She couldn’t see the ruins from her room; they were too far away, and she was on the wrong side of the building, but she felt their pull, a draw to get started.

She just had to get through tonight and then the rest of the time on Avernus would be hers.
 

“You call
this
appropriate?” Julia asked. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she tried unsuccessfully to tug the dress’s hemline down another inch. Or three.

“The little black dress is
the
quintessential cocktail dress,” Suri said. She’d arrived fifteen minutes ago with one dress and one pair of sandals.
 

So much for choices
, Julia thought.

“You got the little part right,” Julia muttered. The sexy red dress was light-years beyond her practical wardrobe and unlike anything she would have bought for herself. “Have I got the straps right? I feel like I’m strangling myself.”
 

Suri laughed and bounced up from the bed. Julia was starting to realize that Mel’s assistant didn’t walk anywhere. She hopped, skipped, shuffled, and occasionally did a little jig, but she never just walked.

“Turn around.”

Julia did as ordered. From over her shoulder, she watched Suri deftly adjust the straps, criss-crossing them across Julia’s back. She had to admit; the effect was stunning.

“There.” Suri stood back and admired her handy work. The spaghetti straps showed off Julia’s elegant shoulders, and the nipped waistline accented her hourglass figure. “Now the sandals.”

The shoes were one thing Julia didn’t need help with. She recognized the designer sandals as the same ones she’d drooled over earlier in the season. She slipped them on, adjusted the straps and gave herself a final look.

“You should leave your hair down,” Suri suggested. She tapped a purple fingernail against her teeth. “And no makeup.”

“Good, because I didn’t bring any.” Julia gave her hair a quick once over with her brush. The normally soft curls instantly tightened in the sultry sea air. “I hope Mel doesn’t mine dining with Medusa,” she said and gave up.

“Medusa was a bitch,” Suri said. “Come on or we’ll be late.”

Downstairs, Julia followed Suri outside and across the lawn. Tables had been set up and there were tray-passed hors d’oeuvres, but most of the guests chose to take their drinks and wander down onto the beach.
 

Mel was there answering questions about the services available on the island. Julia recognized several famous faces in the crowd, but otherwise, it was your standard meet and greet.
 

“Here.” Suri handed Julia a cocktail glass filled with golden liquid and finished off with a pink umbrella. “That’s K.C. Lynch.”

Julia followed Suri’s gaze to where a handsome man stood nursing a diet coke. “He plays basketball?”

“Football,” Suri corrected. “And that’s Mavis Bell.”

Julia recognized the singer but not the man leading her away from the party. “Who is that with her?”

“Her manager.”

Surprised at the hostility in Suri’s voice, Julia turned to find Mel’s assistant glaring at the retreating couple. “You don’t like him.”

“The man’s a glorified criminal,” Suri said and finished off her drink.

“How does that make him any different from the rest of us?”

Julia turned toward the voice that sounded like warm honey. The face that went with it was model beautiful with sharp cheek bones and a square jaw. Dark, slashing brows hovered over gun-metal gray eyes that could never be mistaken for blue and his mouth was made for sin.

“Lincoln Steele,” Suri said, making the introductions. “This is Julia Davenport.”

“Ms. Davenport.”

Julia accepted the hand that was offered, aware that she was being sized up with cool efficiency.

“Mr. Steele is the founder of Steele Industries,” Suri added helpfully. “He’s a mega tycoon.”

Lincoln didn’t disagree with her. “What brings you to Avernus, Ms. Davenport?” he asked. On an island full of celebrities, Julia Davenport was the only face Lincoln didn’t recognize and that made her unique.
 

“I’m doing some work for Ms. Black.”

“Julia is about to set off on an adventure,” Suri said and grabbed another drink from a passing waiter. Julia marveled at the young woman’s ability to hold her alcohol. Julia was already enjoying a pleasant buzz, and she hadn’t finished her first.

“Oh?”
 

Lincoln Steele raised one perfectly arched brow, and Julia wondered how many women had succumbed to that look.
 

“She makes it sound more glamorous than it is.”

Lincoln Steele listened with polite curiosity while Julia explained her purpose for being on Avernus.

“No offense, Ms. Davenport, but what qualifies you to make such a determination?”
 

His voice pleasant enough but with a hint of steel Julia suspected quelled many a businessmen in their expensive suits. “”

Julia didn’t take offense. After seeing some of the other guests, she had more than a passing thought that she was out of her league on Avernus. “Five years working at the Museum of World History,” Julia said, for once grateful for the museum’s grandiose name. “And a degree in art history. Not to mention my father—”

Steele’s eyes narrowed a second before his face cleared. “Henry Davenport is your father?”

“You know my father?” Julia asked, surprised. Her father was a well-known archeologist in the world of antiquities, but Steele seemed as removed from that world as Julia was from the world of business.

“I’ve read a few of his articles,” Lincoln said. “I was sorry to hear he’d be forced to retire.”

“Thank you,” Julia said softly. Being here about to embark on the kind of exploration her father had lived for, she couldn’t help but think about the man that had helped shape her. “What about you, Mr. Steele, what brings you to Avernus?”

Lincoln thought about the box he had received and wondered how to answer. After a moment, he settled on the truth. “If I knew that, Ms. Davenport, I just might tell you.”

That night Julia dreamt of the minotaur.
 

His breath was hot against the back of her neck, his hands urgent and eager as they traced the shape of her breasts, the slope of her hips. He cupped her; twin points of contact as the fingers of one hand plucked at her turgid nipple while the other delved between her thighs, stroked her clit.

The blunt tip of his cock nudged her opening, and Julia spread her legs wider, lifted her ass. Mewing with need, she felt him slide inside slowly. The first inch was exquisite torture. Her body ready to receive him but the wide head of his cock stretched her almost to the point of pain.
 

His fingers tightened on her hips, and she heard a low rumble from his chest. The animalness of that sound had her nipples tightening and a fresh wave of moisture eased his way deeper into her body. He pulled her back, slid her down his length slowly so that she appeared to be fucking him and not the other way around.

Julia shivered, gasped as the steel length of him throbbed and pulsed within her most intimate, swollen flesh. Then she was begging, pleading with him to move, to fuck her in earnest.
 

A laugh, a chuckle that was pure male satisfaction, and then he started to move.

He took her from behind, a great, heaving beast that thrust deep and buried himself in her body. Braced on hands and knees, she urged him on, pushed back to meet each stroke until their skin was slick with sweat and the sound of their love making echoed off of the walls.
 

Julia had just enough time to realize they were kneeling in the center of a enormous stone structure, the walls worn smooth with age, and then her orgasm slammed into her, great pulls of pleasure that started in her womb and rippled out to her limbs.

He fucked her through her climax, mercilessly riding her until the last of the tremors passed. Only then, did he take his pleasure, lifting his head and roaring his release to the sky.

THE RUINS

Julia woke to the sound of the minotaur’s release echoing in her ears. It was full morning, the soft tropical light filtering in through the open windows. She watched the fan spinning lazily above the bed and enjoyed the anticipation of knowing today was the day.
 

There was a notable dampness between her thighs as she got out of bed and headed for the shower. Her first wet dream had been a surprise, her orgasm powerful enough that it woke her from a deep sleep. Over time, she’d come to look forward to those mornings when she woke, her body satiated from a night of pleasure that was no less fulfilling for having taken place in the dark recesses of her mind.
 

In dreams, there were no limits to what her mind could conjure.

Julia showered quickly. Digging around in her luggage, she opted for a tank top and skort and matched it with a pair of sturdy hiking boots. The boots were old and scuffed, but they had been a gift from her father, and she couldn’t bring herself to replace them.

Her pack was waiting by the door. Slinging it over one shoulder, she headed downstairs where Suri promised to have food and water waiting for her along with her ride.

“All ready to go, I see,” Brad said. Taking her pack, he tossed it in the back of the jeep beside a smaller bag before climbing behind the wheel. “Here.”

Julia accepted the paper bag. “What’s this?”

“Ms. Black didn’t think you would want to wait to have breakfast,” Brad explained as they pulled away from the Big House.

Julia dug into the bag, moaning in pleasure with the first bite of savory breakfast sandwich.
 

Confident Brad knew where they were going, she enjoyed watching the scenery as it passed by. Much as Suri had said, the way to the ruins was a maze of twists and turns that led them inland before switching back on itself and taking them toward the water.