Egyptian Voyage
TJ Michaels
Egyptian Voyage
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2006 by TJ Michaels
Published by Bent West Books
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
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Dedication
This book is dedicated to the two coolest people on earth, Tamara and Michael. For your understanding, inspiration and lots and lots of midnight tea runs, I appreciate you.
Author Note
Dear Reader,
I wrote this book during the early stages of my career as a writer. When the rights reverted from the publisher back to me my first thought was to rewrite it. After some consideration I realized that I’ve grown as a writer and rewriting this book would basically result in a completely different style and story. So, here is Egyptian Voyage in its original form. Enjoy!
Love always,
~TJ
The Empress III
She is the celestial Isis. Nature, universal fecundity united with spiritual rectitude. She is fertility, creation, intelligence and activity. Whatever the gender, the Empress year brings you in touch with your need to nurture and be nurtured. She is Earth-Mother incarnate. The Empress is not just about love—she’s about creativity planted in the realm of the imagination. She is fertile, ripe and blossoming, with ideas, plans, creations.
But know this, my friend—the upside-down Empress III tarot card has a completely different meaning. If the card is drawn by a woman, the upside-down Empress can represent that woman and indicate a partial success in regard to something important to her. But, if drawn by a man, it indicates a loss of love. Negative elements of the Empress are tendencies to be overbearing, vain, and using appearance to sway and manipulate.
And in our story, this Empress is not drawn by a woman. Nor is it drawn in the typical manner of right-side up. Looks like we’ve got a bad guy to put down...
Prologue
Eden sat in the dark in his favorite overstuffed chair in the living room. The local news droned on while a small blue ticker scrolled across the bottom of the screen. He usually watched the screen with more than a little interest in the latest mayhem plaguing whatever port the ship happened to dock at. Tonight, the words of the news anchor, spoken in perfect Portuguese, rolled off him as he idly stroked the smooth bald head of the woman sitting quietly in his lap. She was twenty-six inches of porcelain perfection, clothed in the regalia of ancient Egypt and her station. Today, he’d clothed her in the white fine linen of the traditional shendyt kilt, leaving her caramel brown breasts bare.
He’d had her created with the face of the noble pharaoh, Hatshepsut. Perfectly formed lips and cheeks were free of rouge or coloring. Almond-shaped dark eyes were adorned with even darker liner that brought her face to life. Yes, she was definitely his favorite, his harem master, responsible for keeping the males in his harem in line. Not only was she beautiful and damned good at her job, her ability to interpret the tarot made her beyond valuable. Perhaps he’d keep her long enough to give her a name of his choosing.
Tilting his head, he contemplated the large tarot cards spread out on the coffee table. The surface of each was an exquisite work of art and displayed majestic Egyptian symbols of men and women who’d once ruled the ancient world. Their noble profiles brought a sense of kingship and kinship to him. The background of each was a mix of bold gold, turquoise and lapis blues laid over woven papyrus and set against a midnight deep black. Eying the beautiful tarot, the man stretched out a single finger and stroked the intricate borders of two that were separate from the rest of the deck.
Today, he’d drawn Strength and Justice.
“Yes, beloved, you are both.”
He looked away from the cards and into the lovely face of the woman who’d spoken into his mind. He still hadn’t figured out how she managed to do that. He could only hear her when she was near, but none of the others before her had ever been able to do even that much. She spoke again, her voice as clear as a summer sky in his head.
“The cards proclaim you to be Strength and Justice, to bring balance to this world.”
Everything Eden did had the tarot at its center. He never made a move without consulting them. Today, he looked directly at the cards, saw what they were. But what did they mean? It seemed the interpretation of the cards was almost always different from what he intuitively thought it should be. But his Egyptian golden-skinned beauty always explained it all.
“Justice,” she began in her smooth, seductive voice, “is represented by a woman clad in white, a sword in one hand and a balance in the other. She sits on a throne with two lions at her feet. Strength is shown by a woman with a winged golden headdress, clothed in a white robe trimmed with turquoise jewels. A lion stands before her with the headdress of a pharaoh on his head. Strength holds the beast’s mouth closed and he can go no further.”
Okay, so what?
“Strength, my beloved, is a card of success as long as you retain your instincts and exercise self-control. Justice indicates that all is going as it should. Even if you do not realize it, you’re operating according to a divine plan. This plan is in harmony with you, my love, as well as correctness in your relationships.”
Placing a gentle kiss on the top of his harem mistress’s head, his mouth lifted in a wide satisfied smile. All of it sounded wonderful.
“So, who is my goal this time?” he queried, as the usual excitement kindled at the base of his gut. There was nothing like the anticipation of what was to come.
“There is a woman who has unbalanced the life of an important male. Her hair is a burnished hue and…”
When he’d memorized the description of the female, he rose, placed the harem mistress back on her shelf at the top of the beveled glass cabinet and left the ship. Now he could hunt with precision.
Later that night, as his prey screamed into a hand held firmly over her mouth, he did indeed feel the imbalance of the world shift and groan until it settled into its proper place. The specimen’s sticky blood ran out of a fat hole in her back. It soaked through his shirt and streamed hot and thick over the ridges of his stomach, down to his navel. Yes, all was as it should be.
In spite of his ruined clothes, his chest puffed out with pride when the female took her final breath. Yes, once again he’d brought balance to the world and exacted justice on behalf of all those who depended on him as the rightful protector of the faith.
Chapter One
Chrysalyn Geyer yanked a large suitcase off the floor and let it bounce on the edge of the bed. Throwing open the top, she yanked out a pair of white capri pants, arranged them so they draped dead center in the middle of the hanger, then snapped them on the pole in the closet.
“What the hell am I supposed to do for three months, damn it?” she fumed, not bothering to send her thoughts psychically to her spirit guide.
*Rest is a novel idea. I do believe it is the reason your employer sent you on this vacation.*
“Adonei, do you always have to be so frickin’ logical?” she growled between clenched teeth. Neatly folding her favorite cashmere sweater, she placed it on one of several wide shelves in the walk-in closet.
*Of course. I am, after all, a male. Are we not the more logical of the species?*
“Is this a trick question?” she chuckled, her tone incredulous. A balled-up fist made its way to her hip at the same time her bare foot tapped impatiently on the thick carpet. And how the hell had she wound up with a male for a spirit guide anyway? Perhaps the Great Spirit was testing her?
*I believe it is time for a nap. Summon me if you have need, my dear.* With a yawn and an exaggerated feline stretch, Adonei retreated to a small corner of her consciousness.
“Damned lion,” she grumbled, already bored out of her mind.
No doubt this cruise ship was stellar. Everyone on board owned their oversized apartments. And according to the receptionist that checked her in yesterday afternoon, every single one of the units was built specifically for the owner, all of them larger than her whole house back in the States. And priced around a cool million dollars. Her company owned the sprawling condo she would occupy during her vacation. Way to go, Aegis.
Every outfit and its corresponding pair of shoes were arranged by color in the massive closet. Sigh. One more suitcase left, but it could wait until after a wash-up. Chrysalyn made her way to the stylish all-blue granite bathroom and flipped on the shower with a huff.
She had plenty of books but there was no way reading and doing the touristy thing at each port would keep her entertained for three blasted months. Thankfully, they were putting out to sea later on tonight, finally leaving the port in Lisbon, Portugal, behind. At least there would be a change of scenery. She’d also met a dashing older gentleman at the Japanese restaurant up on deck ten last night. Boy, was he a looker—a classic tall, dark and handsome man with a notably square jaw and the most exotic features she’d ever seen on a man.
His chin sported a perfectly manicured goatee over smooth-looking, tanned skin. And the cutest little dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. Salt-and-pepper hair, almost as dark and curly as her own, was stylishly cut. The man’s name was Eden, an interesting name for a learned and well-traveled man. Wherever he was from, he was damned fine, in a sexy, Sean Connery, older gentleman kind of way.
Unfortunately, when he’d strolled over to her table and asked to join her for dinner, a cold streak penetrated the very bones of her spine and chilled the nerves clear down to the backs of her knees. Not fear, but something else, something she couldn’t put her finger on. The kicker was the fact that the emotions weren’t hers, but Adonei’s.
After ten minutes of enduring Adonei’s roaring, growling and pacing in her head with no explanations, Chrysalyn pushed the apprehension away and pleaded with the lion to stand down and calm himself. Instead of listening to her, he’d charged to the forefront of her mind with a snarl so ferocious it caught her completely off guard. With fangs bared, the tawny hair on the back of his thick neck stood on end. And Chrys had bitten her lip and forced her butt to stay in the seat rather than jump to her feet in shock. What the hell was wrong with the big cat? He acted as if she was out on a case looking for bad guys, instead of dining in a classy shipboard restaurant, surrounded by highfalutin people and keeping company with a handsome, well-mannered man.
After practically inhaling her dinner and nodding through most of the conversation, Chrysalyn had smiled politely when Eden offered to see her to her apartment, relieved when he departed with a gentlemanly goodnight.
A full day later, she had yet to learn what Adonei found objectionable about Eden. Perhaps then she could see him again. In truth, she had no urge to fuck him whatsoever, but already looked forward to sharing more conversation. Maybe they could take in a movie or go for a stroll when they reached the next port? She was actually feeling rather encouraged about it all…
Until she’d returned from a brief foray into Lisbon, walked through her front door and locked it behind her. One look across the massive apartment reminded her she’d be floating in this private condo complex for another two months, twenty-eight days and four hours. Shit!
Tonight, determined to finish arranging things to her liking, she’d dined alone. The private chef service was awesome. Not only could she skip dressing up to eat, but a gorgeous Belgian chef had come to her room and prepared her dinner. Feeling rather catty, Chrys tried to trip him up and asked for something decidedly non-European. She’d ended up with the most delicious Cajun dishes piled in front of her with no idea where to begin the scrumptious fare. Her favorites, Shrimp Creole, crawfish bisque, hot water cornbread, fried oysters and okra were attacked with gusto. Perfectly seasoned so they weren’t too spicy, she’d eaten until she was sure she’d have to summon Adonei onto this plane to drag her to her bedroom. Then the chef had sprung another one on her—fresh bananas foster flambéed to perfection before her eyes. Could she get any closer to heaven than soul food?
Now that she’d successfully waddled to the master bedroom to finish unpacking, she was so full it had taken her a full hour to get one huge bag unpacked. Now Chrysalyn stood underneath the massaging spray of the shower, conjuring up images of her first day back at work. She couldn’t wait to return home to Denver and give her boss a piece of her mind. They’d already had the knockdown, drag-out fight of the century, which obviously hadn’t done any good, considering Chrysalyn had still ended up on this damned boat headed for a much-too-long vacation on the high seas.
Who cared if she would visit ports in countries she’d never expected to see in her lifetime? What difference did it make that she hadn’t had a vacation in five years? Who needed a vacation when you could spend every day of your life making a difference in the world by taking down bad guys?
Well, according to her boss, Geri, she needed one. And like it or not, she was getting one.
* * * * *
Dumping the pile of bloodied and soiled clothing into the laundry room hamper, Eden strolled gloriously naked into the luxurious bathroom. The blast of massaging showerheads eased his tense and aching muscles. The woman had put up quite a struggle—funny, his muscles were tight from working out yesterday morning, rather than the grisly business he’d been about only hours before. A perfect smile of perfect, straight white teeth split his lips. It had been the best hunt ever, though too short, too quick. And, like his smile, perfect. Guaranteed to loosen even the most stubborn bloodstains, he washed with the special soap he favored and watched the dried blood mix with steaming hot water and flow down the drain in a froth of pink-tinged bubbles. Eden lathered up again. A deep contentment stole over him as he inhaled. The fragrance was simply inspirational—a blend of vanilla and sandalwood. It was his female’s favorite scent. No surprise, since she was the one who’d taught him how to make it.
“Beloved?”
“Yes, my dear?” he called over his shoulder, wishing she would leave him alone so he could make his dinner date on time. Truthfully, he couldn’t really call it a date, since the woman he planned to meet had no idea he would be joining her. The hunt had taken all damned day. He was in a hurry and now was no time to chatter.
Dressed in classic black dress slacks, tailored black dinner jacket, a crisp white silk shirt and black silk tie, he strode out into the living room. Not bothering to sit down to draw his hand, Eden’s long strong fingers stretched toward the deck of gold and black Egyptian tarot cards stacked neatly in the middle of the coffee table. The card on top was snatched up and tossed to the center of the table. The III card—The Empress. Quirking his head to the side, Eden spoke to his faithful companion.
“Why is she upside down? I’ve never drawn The Empress card upside down before.” Actually, he’d never drawn the Empress in any case. A strange chill chased down his spine as he took in the regal form and features of the dark golden goddess pictured on the card.
“I am sure it is nothing, beloved. Come, kiss me before you go about tonight’s business.”
Eden walked over to the display case and gently lifted his most prized possession down from her glass perch.
“Hurry, beloved.” The sweet caress of her voice eased over his soul like the soothing warmth of a summer sun shower sweeping across the fertile Nile plains. Strange how that same voice sometimes bordered on sheer annoyance. “Kiss me, so you may go and return to me again.”
Running his fingers over the smooth cool skin of her arms, he looked deeply into the dark, almond-shaped eyes. He loved the charcoal outline on her lids and brows, and the slim angular classic Egyptian features. Eden kissed the pharaoh gently on the top of her head, his emotions catapulting between excitement and sadness. He tucked his nose beneath her chin, careful not to disturb the pharaoh’s headdress, an exquisite lapis and gold rearing cobra settled low over her brow.
He knew she cared for him, but while he’d followed all of her advice, he was no fool and was well aware of her true intentions. Every female she’d directed him to dispense justice upon seemed the perfect lover for one of the males in his harem. She wanted to be the only one to rule their little clan and would do whatever it took to see that it stayed that way. After all, she had the spirit of a man, thus was she pharaoh. Not a queen, but a king.
Thoughts turned to the woman he’d spotted boarding the ship in Lisbon yesterday afternoon. Now she was the perfect Egyptian queen. A couple of evenings past, he’d managed to accidentally run into her at one of the ship’s restaurants. Tonight, he hoped to bump into her again.
While the beauty had been dressed inappropriately for his tastes, he couldn’t help but admire her form—and such an itty-bitty thing, perhaps five foot three at the most. Shapely legs teased him from the hem of her sleeveless little black dress down to her cute little sandal-clad toes. Broad shoulders and toned arms supported full, inviting breasts that tapered down to a trim waist. When she’d excused herself to run to the ladies’ room, he’d watched every step. Her hips flared lusciously and her ass was indescribably tempting. Round, wide and firm would do for starters. His fingers itched just thinking about touching all that caramel skin. Delicious.
When she’d turned and laid a stunning smile on him, his breathing had deepened on the spot as all the blood in his torso streaked down to his groin. Beauty was too tame a word—the woman was exquisitely breathtaking. Thick black hair was a riot of twists and curls all over her head. He didn’t typically like short hair on a woman, but this woman’s shiny, healthy-looking waves looked just perfect for running his fingers through. Her eyes were a mix of light brown and gold, contrasting against her dark skin. In the end, he couldn’t decide what color they were, only that they were just as lovely as the rest of her.
And the aura emanating from her pulsed with life. Chrysalyn was her name. And she was perfect for bearing strong sons.
Beloved?
The voice bounced him out of his reverie. He looked down at the one who called him beloved. The rare creation cradled in his hands was impeccable and unique. Her long braids and golden winged breastplate were indicative of her heritage—a goddess, a daughter of pharaohs. But even her loveliness paled when compared to Chrysalyn, whose very name referred to new life. No, he simply could not allow his harem mistress to ruin his plans to mate another. And Chrysalyn would be that woman.
With that firmly in his mind, he stood and cast a final glance at the tarot card on the table as he made his way across the room. He placed the harem mistress back into the glass display case with his other unique creations.
Her voice trickled over him once more.
“Enjoy your dinner. Until tonight, beloved.”
On the way out, he looked back at the beautiful work of porcelain perfection and blew her a kiss. Headed for the on-board Japanese restaurant, his step quickened as his thoughts filled with the possibilities between him and the female he was hopefully on his way to meet.
Chapter Two
Jerked out of a sound sleep, Chrysalyn’s eyes flew open as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Lying perfectly still, surrounded by a pile of oversized pillows and warm blankets, she looked around the empty bedroom. There was no sound except the muted splash of the ocean’s waves against the hull as the huge ship cut through the water.
She sighed with a bit of frustration mixed with relief. At least they were on the way somewhere and not still sitting in port, as they had the last couple of days since she’d boarded.
“Adonei? Adonei, come to me,” she silently whispered. Seconds ticked by. No answer. No Adonei.
Where the hell was that damned lion? In all the long years he’d watched over and guided her, he’d never failed to come when summoned.
Well, spirit guide or not, her innate senses told her something was wrong. Reaching out along the psychic bond they shared, she tried again, calling quietly, but firmly, in her mind.
Annoyed, Chrys gave up on the psychic thing and opened her mouth. “Adonei, get here already,” she snapped on an impatient whisper.
Finally, the still air shimmered and shifted next to the bed as Adonei appeared shaking his wild mane on a loud, wide-mouthed yawn. Chrysalyn was glad no one else could hear the racket. Lord, he had a big mouth, all sharp teeth and power. Glad he was on her side, she smiled with genuine affection at her companion as the moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass deck doors, reflecting off his two-and-a-half-inch canines. Adonei—African lion and male to the bone. No wonder this creature was the king of beasts.
*Chrysalyn, what is it now? Surely you did not summon me to this plane to complain about your three-month rest again?*
Okay, so he was a cynical king of beasts.
‘Adonei, I heard something. Well, not actually heard, but definitely felt. Someone’s in here.’
He didn’t say a word. No change of expression, no smart-assed remark, nothing. Now she definitely knew something was going on. Fine, she’d just have to see for herself.
‘Adonei, lend me your sight.’
*Take what I offer,* he yawned.
Geesh, was he ever rattled by anything? Guess not.
Keeping her eyes open and focused on her bedroom door, Chrysalyn embraced Adonei’s gifts as they flowed warm and comforting underneath her skin before sinking into her blood. The strength and power of the lion burst forth and filled her. Human eyes took on superhuman clarity as the dim shadows of the night receded and all became perfectly clear. Whispering an unladylike, but appropriate, blue streak of curses, she grumbled under her breath and climbed out of bed. Whoever had disturbed her sleep would royally pay for it. On bare feet, she eased her way across the room to the sliding glass door that opened onto the private deck.
The metal handle was cool against her fingers as she slid the door open. Thankfully, it was well-oiled and moved silently along its rails. Poking her head through the small opening, she eyed the entire length of the moonlit deck before stepping out into the balmy night. All was quiet. The pitch-black sky overhead was blanketed with a sea of stars so vast it rivaled the twinkling of the moon off the surface of the water stretching out before the ship. If she hadn’t been scooting across the deck in the middle of an emergency, she would have sank down into the nearest cushioned deck chair and slipped back into her dreams under those stars.
But nooo! Instead of enjoying the relaxing atmosphere, the lull of the waves, the pearlescent glow of the moon, she had to kick someone’s ass tonight for breaking into her apartment.
Kneeling down, she peeked through the far deck door into the dim living room.
“Oh, you just wait,” she ground out between clenched teeth, her spiking temper directed at the dark shadow easing into the guest bedroom. Her head cocked sideways in surprise when the shadow reappeared and moved toward her closed bedroom door.
She eased the glass door open a crack, thankful for the lack of sea breeze. The last thing she needed was for the drapes to billow and warn the bastard of his impending ass-kicking.
The second his head disappeared through the opening of her bedroom door, the living room pane slid all the way open and Chrysalyn flew toward the encroacher on silent feet.
The closer she got to the shadow, the more it stretched toward the high ceilings. It was a man, and whoever he was, he was tall and well-built. Fine, she’d just have to take him down hard and fast. Damn it, now she wished she’d asked Adonei for his strength instead of just his exceptional sight. But she didn’t have time for that now.
With a well-aimed kick at the common peroneal nerve running along the intruder’s right leg, she struck out with all her strength. In a fraction of a second, the leg went numb and buckled, unable to support the man’s weight. As he went down, a solid uppercut connected with his jaw, followed by a lightning-fast left to the mouth. But before she could finish him, Chrysalyn found herself wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs, and heading swiftly toward a meeting with the hardwood floor. The intruder rolled with her until the legs of the coffee table blocked their progress, with him on top. Damn.
She looked up into a handsome face a mere three inches from her own. Holy shit! Even in the dark, there was no mistaking the perpetrator’s identity. After three years apart, there still wasn’t another male who looked like this. Felt like this. Smelled like this.
“Rahn!” she gasped, from both shock and exertion. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“At the moment, I’m bleeding. How are you, Chrysalyn?”
Oooh, and his voice was still dead sexy. Double damn!
* * * * *
“Rahn? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, now that you’ve asked so sweetly,” he huffed sarcastically, a bit winded by their tussle. At least his leg was beginning to get the feeling back. Ow! His ribs hurt too. She’d kicked the shit out of him. He took as deep a breath as he was able, and said, “I have a case to close in Rome. Since the ship was headed there anyway, Geri thought I might enjoy a little holiday first. It’s been awhile since the last one.”
“Vacation? Here? With me?” The woman was practically screeching. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was nervous about him sharing the huge apartment. He’d have to ask his spirit guide about it later. Man, she felt good underneath him. Time to move before he gave away just how good she felt. Rolling away, he immediately missed the warmth of her body.
“This is the company’s apartment. With three bedrooms and a couple thousand square feet, it’s more than big enough. Our boss figured you wouldn’t mind.”
On his feet now, Rahn headed for the nearest couch. A glance over his shoulder made his body shudder. The woman was still spread-eagled on her back. Her itty-bitty nightshirt didn’t cover much, bunched up just below her sex as it was. He cocked his head and spoke silently to his spirit guide.
‘Mahpiya, lend me your senses.’
Immediately, the lioness’s gifts flooded into him. Ooh, big mistake. He tightened his thigh muscles, trying to keep from coming on the spot when his eyesight sharpened and Mahpiya’s sharp sense of smell flooded through his body until it became his own. His eyes took in the sleek, smooth length of Chrysalyn’s lovely legs. His nose told him she lay sprawled on the floor, minus any kind of panties. The scent of her pussy wafted through the air and practically sucked all the common sense right out of his head. Sweet, deliciously sensual, her scent was reminiscent of honeysuckle and dark red wine.
“Shit,” he grumbled, realizing the couch wasn’t nearly far enough away from her. He eased toward a chair clear across the huge room. He flopped down into the overstuffed cushions, snatched a pillow from behind his head and smashed it down over a suddenly painful erection. Where the hell had the hard-on from hell come from?
*Did you not ask for my aid, my charge?*
‘Oh shut it, Mahpiya,’ he quipped at his psychic companion. Damned cat had no mercy.
*Do not be angry with me, youngling. I gave you just what you asked for. ‘Tis no fault of mine you received more than you bargained for.*
Then she laughed! How the hell did a lioness laugh anyway? Damn it, she was supposed to be his spirit guide, not his tormenter.
*You torment yourself, young one.*
Rahn was thankful when she retreated into a small corner of his mind to nap. But not before she sent a genuinely amused and toothy grin through their psychic bond. Damned cat.
Chrys’ words broke through his thoughts. “So, why are you going to Rome?”
His eyes were drawn toward the lovely body projecting the silky voice across the room. Lifting his head, he glanced her way. Shit, she was still on the floor, only now her arms were crossed behind her head as she looked toward the clear glass doors that led out to the deck.
“Rahn? Did you hear me?”
Hell no, he hadn’t heard her. He was too busy trying to drown out the blood rushing through his ears as it streaked toward his dick.
“What did you say? My head hurts from the pounding you did on it. Hard to focus,” he lied—about the focus part, not about the pounding. He watched her roll up from the floor and stomp her way to the chair across from him. She flopped down in it, completely nonplussed, comfortable in her practically bare skin and obviously unaware how delicious she looked.
“I asked what you’re going to be doing in Rome, Rahn,” she said.
Okay, time to get his head together to make this lie sound convincing. As much as he hated to tell her half-truths, if the woman ever found out the nature of the case he was on his way to solve, he’d never be able to keep her nose out of it.
“There have been a string of murders there. They seem to be centered around a certain area. The international police have asked us to look into it for them. Less complicated if we investigate the matter, since our organization flies well below the radar.” The last few words were said with a grunt as he shifted on the chair and tried to rearrange his cock in his pants.
“So,” he gasped as his fingers wrapped around his raging hard-on, pushing it to the left. “How’s that gorgeous cousin of yours?”
“Delaine? She’s fine. Getting married soon.”
Now that snapped him and his cock to attention. Delaine Jeris was getting remarried? Whoever had landed that beauty was a lucky man. Rahn was glad she’d finally let go of that idiot she’d been married to for so long and moved on. Everyone in their agency had been tempted to help the asshole have a little accident after word got around about what he’d done to Delaine. If their boss, Geri, hadn’t expressly forbade any late-night ass-kickings for the man, he would have been nothing but a pile of sore bones for ages to come.
“She met someone soon after she moved out to Charlotte,” Chrysalyn said, her voice somewhat wispy, as if she longed for something. But she was getting married herself. So why did she sound so…forlorn?
“Speaking of married,” Rahn said quietly, watching her closely. “You’ve been engaged for a while now. When is your big date?”
As quickly as she’d sat down, she was back on her feet. Back stiff with what could only be a major case of ticked off, she stomped across the floor, into her bedroom and slammed a solid wood door on him without a word.
“Well, hell, that didn’t go as planned,” he grumbled to himself.
Mahpiya’s powerful presence surged to the forefront of his mind until he could see the outline of her majestic feline form just behind his eyes.
*Do not fret, my charge. It is not your fault. She is lonely.*
“Lonely?” What the hell kind of sense did that make? The woman was getting married. How could she be lonely?
*She is lonely because she is not getting married. She is alone and in need of comfort.*
His eyebrows rose so fast, surely they would fly off his face and hit the ceiling. With narrowed eyes and more than a bit of serious curiosity, he practically growled at his psychic companion.
“How do you know she’s not getting married, Mahpiya?”
Rahn sent utter shock resonating down the bond he shared with Mahpiya. He rolled his eyes in frustration as the image of the majestic lioness, lying in a comfortable heap licking her huge paws, faded from behind his eyes without answering his question.
* * * * *
The ship was underway on the three-day sail from Lisbon to the Balearic Islands in the south of Spain. It meant hunting on board until they made port. He didn’t particularly care for it. There weren’t enough dim or dark nooks to hide, which meant there just weren’t as many opportunities to genuinely enjoy stalking his prey.
His breathing quickened at the remembered thought of how the last woman had looked over her shoulder, her body stiff with fear when she’d realized that someone followed her. He’d stalked her for the entire time they’d been in port in Lisbon, all ten days. Each evening she’d walked from the middle of town to a small flat. Each night, her apprehension had grown more and more acute until he’d thought he might be able to reach out and eat a piece of it.
His cock swelled as his mind conjured the wide-eyed dread etched across her lovely features when he’d finally shown himself. He’d known the exact second she realized her life approached its end. Her last gasp, the last thump of her heart had brought with it such a heady rush of adrenaline, accompanied by a high so consuming he felt it down to his shoelaces. And he craved it again, would have it again.
Eden moved quietly through his bedroom to the closet where he gently stroked the black silk he so loved to wear. It never showed the blood and cleaned up nicely.
At sea, there were no pretty little females to follow through the darkness of the night or stalk from dark alleys. No overconfident, swaggering young men to approach in the gathering dark. No matter. There were plenty of people who considered themselves high class, and too good to mate with the men in his harem. It would be easy to keep his skills sharpened on them. He would simply practice on a hand-picked pawn aboard ship. After all, it was the sole reason they were on board, for his pleasure.
“At it again, I hear,” he mumbled to himself with a shake of his head and gently closed the bedroom door at the first screech of his harem mistress’s voice. She was no doubt on the case of one of the men again, scolding in a tone she never, ever used with him. Then again, she may be scolding them all.
“You will say nothing to our master,” her hard voice practically cut the air around her. “I am responsible for all of you and this is not outside the realm of my authority. I will deal with it,” said the lovely Egyptian female who called him “Beloved”. She was indeed responsible for the harem. In spite of her tendency to dominate those she was supposed to care for, she’d said nothing that caused him concern. Eden ignored the conversation. Whatever the issue, let her deal with it.
Dressed in severe black, the only break in the darkness around his body was a crisp, blinding white silk handkerchief expertly tucked into the top pocket of his dinner jacket. Clasping an onyx cufflink onto the sleeve of his black shirt, Eden made his way through the living room and over to his most prized possessions to make sure all was well before he stepped out for the evening.
They were sullen, but otherwise unharmed. Eden picked them up one by one and allowed them to touch his mind, speak to him about their troubles. First was the porcelain, bronze-skinned male he called Shaman. A prized Native American warrior, with a body so perfectly sculpted even he would have been tempted if the man were flesh and blood. He was beautiful, standing at almost twenty-four-inches tall, with perfect porcelain skin and jet black hair down to his solid waist. And as usual, the first thoughts he shared with his master were of how much he resented having to bow to the whims of a temperamental female harem mistress, no matter how exquisite.
After a few assuring words, Eden put Shaman back on the shelf and reached for the next work of perfection.
Celon was a blond-haired Viking if there ever was one. A little shorter than Shaman, he stood at twenty-three inches of porcelain perfection. Dressed in classic Norwegian garb reminiscent of the early ninth century, he sported a wide muscular chest, a narrow waist and thick legs. His expression was one of seduction. His creator must have been a female. Even one painted eyebrow was raised in invitation and one side of his perfect mouth tilted up into a sly smile. He was a predator, plain and simple. Yes, he was Eden’s favorite.
After listening to Celon’s short, clipped complaint about the pharaoh harem mistress, Eden smiled at the man as a final thought slipped into his mind. Celon wanted nothing more than to fuck the harem mistress silly until she gladly got on her knees and begged him to take her. Poetic justice, since that was her favorite position for all ten males in the harem—on their knees before her.
But Eden could not regret her behavior. He needed someone ruthless to keep his stable in line. And what was more ruthless than a female?
Last, he picked up Daven. The dark-skinned male reminded him of the Egyptian kings. More than once, he thought he’d spotted the figure of this doll on one of the tarot cards he studied. Egypt was, after all, in Africa. It would be no surprise to find a man like this exquisite creation as a former ruler of that amazing place. Skin as darkly smooth as his favorite coffee, Daven was a master of temptation, as were all of the men in his collection. Dark brown eyes set under even darker brows practically beckoned females to his bed. If he were standing before him in the flesh Eden might have even considered asking him for advice on securing the female, Chrysalyn.
Tonight Daven was clearly not in the mood to play. And, for once, he didn’t want to fuck the harem mistress. He wanted to beat her senseless. Why? The bitch had again selected a female for elimination that would have made a perfect mate for one in the harem.
His Japanese doll, Saraka, was enraged and distraught. The last woman the harem mistress had instructed Eden to hunt and ultimately destroy should have been Saraka’s mate.
Oh well, nothing to be done about it now. Eden said goodnight to all of his men and lifted the harem mistress from her perch. With her in his arms, he made a beeline for the couch in the massive living room and reached out to the stack of tarot.
What the hell? The Empress upside down again. Pinning his harem mistress with a hard stare, he pushed the words out of his mouth.
“What does this card mean when it’s not upside down?” he asked with an even, calm tone, though apprehension slipped down the backs of his legs.
It represents the woman who is important to you. As a male, it may be a woman you know or will meet who may become your friend, lover or mate. It may also mean that you are entering a time of overflow, abundance and prosperity.Opportunities may very well come upon you from out of nowhere, she replied quietly, carefully.
“Yes, but if all this comes about when the Empress is right side up, then the upside-down card must mean I am headed for trouble,” Eden pressed roughly, unfamiliar with the apprehension twitching around in his gut. And he didn’t like it one bit. He knew only one thing—his Egyptian flower had better tell him what he wanted to hear.
If this card pertained to you, then perhaps what you say is true. However, I do not believe you are selecting this card for yourself, but for a person you have yet to come across. Perhaps this card tells us the future of your next task? she said in a soothing timbre.
“You’d better fucking be right,” he said calmly, kissing her lightly on each brow. With less than two hours before the ship left port, tonight he had to be precise in order to handle his business and get back on board in time.
Easing open her resting place, Eden set her gently on the top shelf of the glass cabinet and asked, “So, who shall it be tonight?” He stroked the top of her glossy head, loving the silky slide of her ethnic braids through his fingers. He paused mid-stroke and pinned her with a level stare. “And no more targeting the females who are meant for the men.”
Her angry sigh echoed in his head, but he knew she would not gainsay him. At least not out loud.
Chapter Three
“Nope, definitely not a morning person,” Rahn moaned to himself. Damn, even floating on water with the sun beaming into his room, warm and bright, he still wanted nothing more than to stuff the pillow over his head and tell the day to go to hell.
Well, no hope for it. He had a case to solve and a woman to protect. And that woman, who had always risen with the chickens, was no doubt up and about. Too bad he couldn’t protect her in bed. Hmmm, then again, she was single again. Just maybe…
Kicking the covers off with a loud huff, Rahn pushed to his feet and stood there a moment. The view through the huge beveled glass window no more than three feet from his bed was incredible. He could see past the private deck and out to sea, where the sun shone down from a clear sky. The light reflected off the dark blue water, causing it to sparkle like the finest London blue topaz gems. And there was nothing else but ocean and more ocean. God, he hated deep water. Anything deeper than a bathtub was out of his comfort zone. If the ship went down on its way through the Mediterranean straits, it would be all he could do to stay afloat long enough to be rescued. And it was going to take three whole days to get to Ibiza? Damn.
Well, at least the ship was large enough that he wouldn’t be constantly bent over the railing feeding the fish every time he had a bite to eat. With a snort, he dragged himself to his private bath.
Already bored, his mind sought for something to think on besides the case that brought him here. But until he checked in with his boss, Geri, for an intel update there was no need to dwell on it.
His thoughts drifted to Chrysalyn and the bomb Mahpiya had dropped on him last night. Chrysalyn was lonely? He still didn’t understand it.
“Mah, come to me,” he whispered around his toothbrush. At least his eyes were open and he was beginning to recall how to focus. Damn, he was tired. Mahpiya eased to the forefront of his mind, the slabs of dense muscle under her tawny coat flexing as she moved. He closed his eyes a second and grinned when the great cat flopped down on her stomach, raised her amber eyes and waited for him to speak.
Glad no one was around, so that he could speak out loud, Rahn jumped right in and said, “I wonder what the hell happened to Chrysalyn, Mah. I mean, the last time I saw her, she was engaged to that asshole, Kevin or Calvin or something like that. What the bloody hell went down? It’s times like this I wish you could pop over to wherever she is and read her mind.”
Shaking his head in wonder, he was still unable to believe the one woman he knew he couldn’t live without was somewhere around this sprawling apartment. And she was available. Heading for the shower, he stopped short at Mahpiya’s next words.
*There is no need for mind reading. Chrysalyn Geyer is your mate.*
Whoa! Back up. Rahn spun around so fast the clear glass door to the huge stall he’d just opened smacked him soundly on the knuckles. Rubbing the now-tender skin, he reached into his mind, demanding an explanation.
“Mah, how the hell can you know that?” When she didn’t immediately reply, he summoned the feline onto this plane so he could look her in the eyes. “Mahpiya, come to me. Right now.”
The sleek African lioness disappeared from behind his eyes and shimmered into her corporeal form right in front of him. Damn, she was huge—four feet tall and almost four-hundred-eighty pounds of raw power. At the top of the food chain, her earthly cousins were the perfect hunters. And Mahpiya was no less formidable. With the ability to speak mind-to-mind with those in her care, Rahn tended to forget how majestically imposing Mahpiya was. He immediately lowered his head and asked her forgiveness for his impertinence. After all, she served him at her pleasure. He was blessed to have such a wise companion.
Stepping into the shower, he dunked his head under the lukewarm flow and exhaled sharply. The scent of his favorite sandalwood soap filled the oversized stall.
“Okay, Mah, what do you mean, Chrysalyn is my mate?” Could it be? Chrysalyn, the woman perfect for him? He should have been shocked, so why wasn’t he? Because Chrysalyn had been everything he’d ever dreamed of in a woman, a real class act. All he’d had to do was pursue her. But noooo, he’d been an idiot and allowed himself to be, uh, distracted by woman who’d chased after him instead. He’d learned later that same woman not only pursued him, but any other cock she could get her hands on. Hell, she had even slept with his best friend. Claimed it was all part of the job as an undercover. Yeah, right.
Obviously, their relationship hadn’t lasted, but by the time he’d pulled his head out of his ass, Chrysalyn had moved on to someone who treated her like she deserved. The two had been engaged to be married and the woman seemed happy enough. So what happened?
He was snapped out of his musings by Mahpiya’s sharp words and sultry voice.
*Get dressed, hoksila. You must be about your business. Your mate awaits you.*
With that, Mahpiya herded him out of the shower and back into his room with an urgency that had him moving double time. Was something wrong? Was Chrysalyn in danger? And where the hell was the woman, anyway? And hadn’t Mah mentioned a spirit guide before?
*If you stop thinking, you can move faster,* Mahpiya growled before swatting him across the backside with a large paw.
“Ouch! Damn it, that hurt,” Rahn yelped, hoping the impending welts didn’t cause him too much discomfort later. A faint sound caught his attention as he fished around for underwear and a pair of sport socks in his dresser drawer. Lifting his eyes toward the quiet splash, Rahn spied an unlikely vision through the glass doors leading out to the deck.
Holy shit! Chrysalyn basked under the early morning sunshine, her body partially hidden by the swirling rush of hot water in the oversized hot tub. Arms spread out to her sides, the swell of her breasts was just visible above the waterline. Her delicious, cinnamon skin gleamed enticingly, wet from the steam and droplets peppering her beautiful body. The leopard-print swimsuit plastered to her curves sent a rush of heat straight to his cock. Her hair was loose and little curls framed her strong jawline as she laid her head back, eyes closed and…puffed? On a cigar?
His cock screamed as he stood there, mute and unable to get a single muscle in his body to move. She was so damned sexy. And here he stood with another chance to have her and he couldn’t draw his eyes away from the window.
Another swat across his buttocks took care of that.
“Okay, already! I’m going, Mah.”
*Excellent,* she purred as her corporeal form shimmered away.
Not like he needed any further encouragement. One peek at the exquisite woman lounging in the tub had his dick stiffer and hotter than a fireplace poker left sitting on top of a burning log.
The next moment found Rahn moving toward the doors with sheer determination in his stride. He headed across the deck and straight toward the hot tub and the succulent woman awaiting him.
* * * * *
The second the hair started dancing on the back of her neck, Chrysalyn’s brows drew together in a fierce frown. Forcing the muscles of her face to relax until she was the epitome of absolute calm, she called to her spirit guide.
Reaching out with her mind, she asked, ‘Adonei, who’s approaching?’
*Do not worry, my charge. There is no danger.*
‘I don’t give a shit if there’s danger. I don’t like people sneaking up on me.’
And who the hell wanted to admit the man was making plenty of noise. The loud snap of the glass doors to his room and the soft flap of his bare feet on the wood deck told her who approached. His fresh masculine scent stole over her, carried on the easy ocean breeze. Oh great! Now her stomach was doing the butterfly samba. What the hell was there to be so giddy about? It was only Rahn, right? It was only the man she should have married three years ago. The man whose smooth tenor English accent sent little strokes of heat up the back of her knees. Whose sexy smile and killer physique made her want to do all sorts of nasty things to him.
The bastard who fell for a horse-humping bitch who wanted nothing more than to prove she could steal him. And he’d fallen for it, the idiot.
*Ease yourself, Chrysalyn. You are screaming in my ear,* Adonei scolded with a deep growl. His annoyed expression was crystal clear in her head, along with the bored roll of his eyes. How an African lion managed to roll his eyes, she would never know. And she was not screaming, damn it!
“Chrysalyn?”
Sitting up, she opened her eyes and watched Rahn approach. Tangy ocean mist drifted up from the wake as the huge ship cut gently through the waves. It tickled her nose. She liked the way it smelled. The sun had risen only an hour before, but the deck was already nicely warmed and comfortable. Add the barely perceptible rocking of the sea and her day was perfect. But the vivid blues painted across the sky, the smell of the sea, the opulence of her private dwelling, all of it paled in comparison to the gloriously naked man coming her way. His stride was long, but easy, kind of reminding her of Adonei when he was hunting some imaginary prey.
The sweet chocolate and coffee smoke of her Kahlua cigar drifted like silken threads of aromatic decadence. The scent of the indulgence she enjoyed every now and again made her think of how long and thick the hand-rolled treat was, which in turn carried her wayward thoughts to other similarly shaped objects that would fit nicely perched between her lips. Aw, hell.
Reaching up, she plucked the fat Kahlua cigar from her lips and set it in the sleek ashtray just off to her left. Sounding as bored as Adonei’s eye-rolling looked, her voice lacked any kind of warmth as she answered his call.
“Yeah, what, Rahn?”
*There is no need to be rude, Chrysalyn.* Adonei again. Didn’t the cat have somewhere to go?
‘Says who? I was perfectly fine out here all by myself. What the hell does he want anyway?’ she grumbled back at her spirit guide, who was becoming more and more a pain in the backside lately with all his male logic.
*He is not a danger to you, woman. However, that black-clothed fellow does concern me.*
‘Who? What black-clothed fellow?’ she wondered.
*The one who insinuated himself into your company when you were dining alone. That one is dangerous, I am sure of it.*
‘Eden, hmm? Seems harmless enough. But you’ve never steered me wrong. I would be a fool to totally ignore your warning. I’ll be careful.’
*Thank you. Now, in the meantime, you have company.*
Hell, she’d almost forgotten about Rahn.
Geez, what a blatant lie. But that was her story and she was sticking to it. By the time her conversation with Adonei was done, Rahn was climbing into the hot tub with a determination in his eyes she was sure she’d never seen unless he was after a bad guy.
He was very close now. So close that if the water hadn’t already been one-hundred-two degrees, she was sure the heat emanating from his body would have taken care of any tepidness. She sat up and looked down.
Oh dear lord. The man was gloriously naked, with a cock so long, broad and hard that the game of baseball came to mind. Hell, he was at least a foot away from her, but the thick-veined tool jutting her way put him a whole lot closer.
One more step and his erection thudded against her stomach, just underneath her breasts and partially hidden by the frothing water. Her heart rate kicked up into overdrive and breathing was a whole lot higher on the scale of important things to do. Okay, time to go. So, why weren’t her legs carrying her the hell out of the damned hot tub?
“Chrysalyn?” he asked, seeking her permission to touch with a whisper-soft plea against the side of her face. With her butt rooted to the spot, she watched one of his large, strong hands move toward her face to remove her sunglasses as the other tipped her chin up just before his lips brushed sensuously against hers.
“Chrys, baby, I’ve missed you so much.” His breath was a barrage of peppermint flowing over her cheek, followed by Eskimo kisses. When was the last time she’d rubbed noses with a man, or anyone for that matter?
His perfectly chiseled body scant inches from hers sent the blood dancing in her veins as the heat in her own skin threatened to out heat the bubbling tub. God, why had he always been able to get to her like this? Especially when she should totally hate the bastard—the dark-haired, tawny-eyed, gorgeous and seemingly sincere bastard. The knowledge that he could move her like no one else pissed her off.