Accidentally in Love With a God (2012) (15 page)

“Mr. Santiago doesn’t share his schedule with anyone, but he calls once a day to check on you, so I’ll advise him that you’ve asked.”

“Please also tell him that he’s an arrogant bastard. And if he doesn’t get here soon to tell me what’s going on, I’m going to kill him.”

Tommaso’s smile melted away. “Don’t say that. Ever. People around here wouldn’t take those words lightly.”

“What people?”

He turned toward the door. “Trivia hour is over. I’ll send the doctor.”

Chapter EIGHTEEN

“This is bad. Very, very bad. Emma will have my head.” Grasping a silver flashlight, Guy sat with hunched shoulders on a boulder at the edge of a large underground cenote. This particular cave, hours from any roads, was the least used of all the portals, and sadly, had been his last hope.

His hands trembled as the gravity of the situation purged all arrogance from his body. In its place, an utterly new sensation flourished: vulnerability. He felt helpless. Him. Votan. One of the most powerful gods in existence shined the light on the surface of the water and didn’t know what to do next.

“More weakness.” Revolted, he shook his head.

After he’d escaped the Maaskab with a nearly comatose Emma, the Uchben arrived and met them near the old fort by the lake. They quickly debriefed, also confirming the absence of the other gods for nearly sixty years—all except for Cimil who had been spotted multiple times in the area, near several Maaskab strongholds, up until about a decade ago.

Then the guards gave Guy the supplies, weapons, and clothes he’d requested, including one of those tiny square phone devices, and left with Sleeping Beauty along with his elaborate instructions for her care. Guy traveled back to his cenote—the one he’d been trapped in for seventy years—but when he immersed himself in the water, reciting the ancient words to open the portal, nothing happened. Not even a pathetic little flicker.

Perhaps the curse, which had imprisoned him, somehow sealed the passage to his world, too?

It wasn’t until he traveled to another portal and yet another, finally arriving at this last cenote, that he realized they were all impassable. Hexed. He could smell the poisonous energy wafting from surface. He didn’t dare enter.

This can’t be. It’s impossible.

What disturbed him most was that had the other gods needed to, they could’ve easily created new portals. Of course, the creation had to be done from their realm, but it took little effort to tap into the River of Tlaloc, the underground channel of energy flowing in this part of the world. But that hadn’t happened, and now a startling realization swept over him: those buzzing voices in Emma’s head weren’t random echoes or meaningless noise she picked up with her powerful, satellite-dish-like-mind. Those voices
were
the other gods. Trapped.

How had this happened? How was it possible Emma could hear them? Through her connection with him, perhaps? And why couldn’t Emma understand them?

Hell, he didn’t come close to understanding this connection with Emma. In fact, there was no explanation for their link in the first place; no one had ever inherited a bond. On the other hand, Payals were a completely new breed. There was much to learn.

For now, he had to focus his energy on more important things. “I will be back to free you, my friend,” he said to the water, suspecting one of the gods was inside.

His thoughts immediately returned to Emma. She was the whiniest female to ever walk the planet, but she had the heart of a warrior like him. She would be beyond livid for being kidnapped, but she would go ballistic when he told her she’d have to return to Mexico and free the others—a task he couldn’t do himself without risking his freedom once again. But Emma had been able to break the water’s hold, break the curse. She was the only solution he could think of.

An uneasy pressure began building inside his chest. He didn’t want to upset her. He also missed her. Twenty-two years he’d shared his existence with hers. The separation was almost too painful to stand.

“Wait. Am I actually afraid? Of facing a girl? And…I miss her?” he said aloud. “I need to get home; being human is driving me insane.”

Chapter NINETEEN

Barolo, Italy.

I stood inside the steaming hot shower, letting the powerful jets pulse at the back of my aching neck. Eyes closed, I began floating the silky bar of rose-scented soap over my body. It was the first time in days that my stomach felt calm. Heaven.

I turned to let the water work on the tightness in the side of my neck.

“Emma, you look irresistible in that outfit,” said a melodic voice infused with evil.

I gasped and jumped back against the cold white tile. Standing in the shower, his bright turquoise eyes glowed with amusement, piercing through the dark shadows that hugged his body. “I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to speak to you again, but apparently, you don’t REM sleep much these days.”

Sleep? Of course. This is a dream!
I let out a sigh of relief, wondering if I could summon a delicious hot dog to the scene. I hadn’t gotten my fix of junk food lately. Or maybe a Belgium chocolate. I closed my eyes but nothing happened. “Darn. Okay then, I’ll settle for that black cloud going away.”

He made a soft chuckle as the haze began to evaporate. “As you wish.”

I stared at his face in shock; he looked almost exactly like Guy. His skin was a silky smooth golden brown. His long black hair was wetted back, and his stomach rippled all the way down to the ropes of muscles that ran diagonally across the front of his hips, creating a V shape that ended right at his large thick penis.

Well, hats off to my subconscious for the effort, but somehow, this vision didn’t quite stack up to Guy. Don’t get me wrong, this man was stunning. It was like comparing crème brulee to that Belgium chocolate truffle I’d just tried to conjure. I’d blissfully gobble down either one, but only the chocolate made my eyes roll into the back of my head. Guy’s skin had a hint more glow to it and his hair was a bit longer. He was also a bit taller and undoubtedly much huskier. Then there was the size of his man-gear—not that I’d measured, but it was pretty substantial. Guy was definitely a Belgium chocolate.

Well, dammit. Now, I officially double-hated Guy. Not even my dream-men could survive the side-by-side comparison. That just wasn’t right.

“Done yet?” his black brows shrugged with amusement.

No, not really.
“But since this is just a dream, and you’re not real, can you wash my hair and shave my legs?”

“A dream, yes. But I’m as real as you are. This is the only way I can reach you.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t liking my hot dream so much. Hoping to change the scenery, I squeezed my eyes shut and began thinking of shoes.

“Emma, that won’t work,” he said. This time the tone had changed. It reminded me of when Guy wanted something. “I need you to promise you won’t run,” he commanded.

My eyes widened. “Run?”

“I’m sending someone for you, several people, in fact. Their appearance will frighten you, but you mustn’t run. If you do, bad things will happen to those you love.”

Oh, pickle. That sounded ominous. What a crappy dream.
I shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping a fluffy white towel around my body. “What kind of bad things?”

“You want to find out? Then run.”

“Why do you want me?” I shoved a towel at him.

“You belong to me,” he said coldly, letting the towel drop to the floor without even attempting to grab it.

A prickly shiver quaked through my body. I walked to the bedroom and looked around. Was there something I could use to wake myself up? I didn’t like where this was going, and for some odd reason, I was beginning to believe him; this was more than a dream, and my self-preservation radar sensed it somehow. “Sorry, but I belong to no one.” I picked up a pen from the nightstand. “Wake up. Wake up, dammit.” I jabbed my palm.

Suddenly, the man grabbed me and threw me to the bed, pinning me under him. “Promise, or I’ll have them kill you on the spot.” His voice was like a low vibration ricocheting inside my head, leaving behind painful shards.

I squirmed beneath him. “I don’t know what kind of sick game this is, but if you’re real, then you should know I don’t respond well to bullies.”

He pushed his upper body up, pinning me with his bare hips. “I don’t respond well to humans who don’t do as they’re told, but keep wiggling. I like it.” His cock began to harden, and I realized only my towel stood between us.

My panic mode went into overdrive. I needed to buy time so I could wake up. I needed to divert his attention away from any possible thoughts of the unthinkable.
This
was not going to happen. No way. Now how. Not even in a dream.

I relaxed my body and looked him in the eyes. “Is it true?”

“What?”

“That men who force women to have sex are also into animals too? I read it in an article. Goats, sheep, you know. Should I baaah for you so that you feel more at home? Baaahh.”

Okay, that was a really weird thing to say. But it was all I could come up with, and the startled, disgusted look on his face said it all. I’d completely grossed him out.

His expression quickly shifted to anger, and then he backhanded me.

Dream or no dream, it stung like hell. Blind, stupid rage burst from inside me. “Fuck you.” I tried to position my knee to kick him but was immobilized by his weight. “Tommaso! Tommaso!” I screamed. Maybe, by some miracle of God, I’d scream in real life.

“Shut up!” He gave me another brutal slap across my face; blood gushed from my nose. “If you run, I’ll find you and kill you!” he screamed in my ear and began cutting off the air from my lungs with his powerful hands.

“I won’t run,” I croaked.

“Good girl,” he said, then released me.

I curled into a ball and cupped my nose.

“Emma, what the hell?! Are you okay?” Tommaso stood above me, a look of horror strewn across his face.

I took a deep breath, relieved to feel the air returning to my lungs. I ran my fingers over my nose and thankfully found it intact, but the painful residue of his strike lingered.

Hands down, that was the most god-awful nightmare I’d ever had. “Just a bad dream.”
Hiccup!

“You sounded like someone was strangling you.” Tommaso sat at my side, his hands leapfrogging over the various parts of my body inspecting for damage. Thankfully, I wore pajamas.

I sat up and buried my head in the oasis of his broad chest.

Reluctant at first, I felt him slip his arms around me and tighten. “What happened, Emma?”

I hiccuped for several moments while trying to wrangle a coherent thought. “I can’t explain it.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” He stroked the back of my head, following the length of my curls.

“Both. But, please, don’t go. And don’t let me go back to sleep.”

***

When I opened my eyes, it was late morning, and I found myself alone. Tommaso had not only left me, but he’d let me go back to sleep. Figured. Why should I expect he’d do me any favors?

I looked over at the bathroom door, almost too afraid to enter. What if I was dreaming again and that monster was in there? And where was Guy? He’d said he’d never let anything bad happen, yet here I was. A mess. Afraid. Being held against my will. Worst of all, he didn’t care about me enough to even send a letter, or call. Nothing. He just dumped me off in this place. He didn’t care about me. Never did. And it hurt. It was a brutal wake-up call. I had to fend for myself now.

I cautiously tiptoed to the bathroom and flicked on a light, letting out a sigh of relief to see the room empty. I looked in the mirror. There were no marks of any kind, but my mind still felt the pain. My neck and nose were tender and sore, like I had invisible bruises.

I ran my hands over my face and then studied red veins in my bloodshot eyes. A tiny sparkle around my neck caught my eye. It was an intricate silver chain with a black stone amulet the size of a nickel. I stared at it for several moments.

“It’s supposed to help with the nightmares,” said a voice.

Tommaso was standing in the doorway wearing black jeans and t-shirt that stretched snugly across his chest and the swells of bicep. If that fabric could talk, it would say, “Lucky me.” He wasn’t the solid six-foot-nine mass of fiercely intimidating muscles like Guy, but he was a lean, well-built man. The kind any woman could appreciate. Except for me, who was too busy hating men.

“I brought you breakfast.” He held up a paper bag and gave it a shake. “Fresh bagel and cream cheese.”

I didn’t know what to say. He was actually letting his guard down, and I was feeling way too fried to resist any act of kindness, even from my captor’s minion.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“I thought it would be a nice day for a walk. Why don’t you eat, take a shower, and I’ll be back for you. Just knock on the door when you’re ready.”