Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3) (19 page)

CHAPTER 22

T
hirty minutes later
they were at his spot. Pedro plopped himself down on a rock by the far side of the falls, placed his cap over his eyes, and wasn’t shy about his intent to doze off. Maybe he was just being awesome, giving them some privacy.
Good
man.

He glanced up at Preeya, wanting to stare at nothing else all day. Her attention was set firmly on the waterfall cascading down the natural rock cliff into the pristine lagoon, an endless oasis. God, her
dark-lashed
eyes couldn’t get any wider, he thought.

And he understood why. To him, this place was heaven on earth.

But now being here with Preeya, it had elevated to something else, something more.

He looked hard at Preeya then touched her arm to grab her attention. “Strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your clothes off. The water’s perfect.”

“Wow. Okay, Mr. Forward,” she said with one brow raised.

He smiled and lifted a brow back. She liked him this way, he could tell. And
he
liked him this way. His true, no bullshit self.

“Chop, chop.” He tilted his head expectantly, then he softened. “I promise, Preeya Patel, you’ll thank me.”

“Maybe, but you go first, Doctor Benjamin Trainer.”

He gave her a wicked grin as he’d already started untying the drawstring of his swim trunks. Way ahead of her. “I’ll meet you in there, slowpoke.”

Completely naked and in up to his ankles the next moment, he dove in the rest of the way. “God, this is as perfect as I remember!” The temperature was bathwater warm.

When he dunked his head and came up again, Preeya was moving toward him, her
sweat-kissed
skin practically sparkling in the sun. Her breasts were full, chest out, nipples—
oh Lord
—pebbled and perfect, maybe from the temperature contrast between the incredibly humid air and the water’s perfection. But maybe for want of him, need of his attention, his detailed tending and care like he’d given her the other night. He’d passed that test, thankfully. And was so ready to give her more. So much more.

And she continued toward him, slightly bashful but not shy enough to move too quickly or to hide herself. No, she glided into the natural pool slowly, seductively. And he could only admire. And anticipate.

Once the water hovered just below her nipples, she sank suddenly, then bobbed back up. “There’s a
drop-off
!” she yelled. He laughed, swimming over to her. “I didn’t know there was a
drop-off
.” She spit out a stream of water and coughed, but then began laughing which made her cough more. When he got to her, she wrapped her arms around him, her smooth skin rubbing against his making him spark to life. He swallowed hard, trying to keep focus on
her
, not on
having
her.

“You’re okay,” he told her. “It’s only ten feet down at this point. But come.” He let his hands slide down her arms, ready to pull her toward the water cascade. “I want to show you what’s under the falls. It’s magic on earth. You’ll see.”

*

She couldn’t stop where things were going. Neither could he, it seemed. It was a force of nature starting with a deep kiss behind a torrential wall of water.

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever made love before. But hidden from the world on that perfectly molded bolder behind that impenetrable sheet of deafening water, that protective curtain rushing down between them and the outside world, she was undoubtedly made love to. No question in her heart. No question in her soul.

Their connection had all of the
out-of
-body passion they’d shared the first night they were together in Boise, Idaho, but she was anything but out of her body now. She was so present, so in the moment with Ben, she couldn’t help but feel like it was a dream. Like there was no
before
, no
after
, just them,
together
, writhing in perfect harmony, the gentle vapor from the falls gracing both their bodies. A magical mist. Pure magic, like Ben had said. His kisses and their connection, also perfect. Unforgettably perfect. She didn’t want to wake up from the
now
he’d brought her to.

But they had to leave the enclave eventually. And when they swam out, she was thankful for his constant touch. There wasn’t a second when his finger or his hand wasn’t in contact with her skin. And she needed that, any remnant of his spark, or else she thought she might just evaporate, become part of the waterfall crashing down in front of her. And simply mist away. Up and away.

CHAPTER 23

O
nce they got
back to Vallarta, Preeya felt like a year had gone by since morning. And she didn’t want their yearlong day, their mock honeymoon, to end.

When he called his sister to let her know he wouldn’t be home for dinner, she felt a tinge of guilt for keeping him from his family, but a wave of relief and excitement for his choice, choosing her.

He brought her to a very nice seafood restaurant—swimsuits and
flip-flops
in Vallarta’s best establishments were the norm, he said. The place was
on
the river, the Rio Cuale, that fed into the bay. The flowing water splashed up to tickle her toes and legs she was so close to the bank. Vibrant overhead lanterns of blues and golds reflected in the water as dusk turned to twilight. “Are you positive you don’t want to invite Stacy and the kids to join us?”

He gave her a look. “Absolutely positive. I don’t want to share you with a soul.”

*

Is this happening right now?
In reality—not another stupid pipe dream of hers, not a waking dream?

And as if he’d read her thoughts, he reached for her hand from across the small, intimate table for two and locked his fingers with hers. She inhaled the evening air deep into her lungs to slow her pulse reverberating throughout her chest.

It’s happening, Pree.
And don’t get too excited about it.
She had to enjoy
now
and worry about nothing else.

She took a sip of the wine he’d ordered to attempt to do just that. It was a rich and fruity pinot noir, he’d said, one that he’d thought she’d enjoy very much. And she did—the taste and warmth and heaviness on her tongue—but more, the sophisticated association of the act of drinking wine. With a man, this man, at this fine dining gem on a river in Puerto Vallarta. She hadn’t much experience with wine and fine dining and men, a real man—all what she’d considered more
adult
pleasures. A giggle escaped her at the mental reference.
Being
an adult. Yeah,
twenty-five
, it was time. She sighed and smiled at Ben who’d been watching her throughout her cerebral wanderings.

“Do you like the wine?”

“I do. I really do.”

“It will go perfectly with the tuna steaks I’ll order for us. This place is famous for their tuna, confirmed by yours truly. I need you to experience it.” He winked then lifted his glass to hers and sipped.

She nodded and took another pull from her glass. It felt a bit strange, his choosing their meal, ordering for her—a bit presumptuous. But as the wine and the light rush of the river and Ben’s gaze penetrated her senses, she let the concern go. She’d enjoy the experience, trust it. Trust him and his desire to make her as happy as he’d done all day long.

*

Dinner was divine, but she’d been too taken by Ben to have enjoyed it as thoroughly as he’d intended. He’d really have to blame himself, topping the meal with his own general effervescence—his questions and answers and stories and ideas made her forget all else.

And anyway, living for the now takes practice, she guessed.

“So, your opinion of your honeymoon day?”

“You are the ultimate pretend husband, Doctor Trainer, and the ultimate guide.” To save herself from blushing, she held back her comment on what else he’d been
ultimate
at—her entire body still hummed from their lovemaking behind the falls.

He nodded; a sweet warmth resonated from him. Again, like he’d read her thoughts.

“You know…since…the funeral…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple lifting and falling with his suddenly tightened shoulders, “…I’ve used Vallarta. To hide away, to isolate myself from…myself. And from my past life.” His face lowered, focused and pensive, his fingers fidgeting with his fork and knife. “But I will tell you something…” With slow and controlled intent, he brought his eyes up to meet hers.

“What’s that?” she asked, now swimming in his eyes of sunset.

“Today, with you…I feel like myself again. This place has felt like a deserted tropical island to me over the last
year-plus
, but now…I’m here to enjoy it. Like, I’m really
here
. It’s a paradise again to me. With you.”

She smiled at him, melted for him. His foot met hers under the table. And her hand found his above it.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, his thumb stroking her wrist, her tattoo peeking out from under her
ever-dead
watch. “What is
this
exactly—what does it represent?”

“My blue moon,” she said, half smiling.

“Is it your sad blue moon?”

“No, it’s not
that
blue.” She laughed. “It’s just rare. You know, the full moon that appears a second time within the same month?”

He smiled and shrugged. “Us doctors definitely don’t know everything.” He winked.

“Well, I got the tattoo with my
teen-hood
boyfriend…total rebel rocker type.”

Ben’s head cocked to the side.

“Shit, yes, at
Sea-Tac
that day. Josh Bolte.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah…wow. Total pipe dream turned…pipe head.” She shook her head. “Fell into the life, you know?”

“So you and he…that night…”

“Did nothing. Well, that’s not true. He snorted, and I slept—with the help of half a liter of vodka.”

Ben nodded, relief spreading a smile over his mouth. “The guy was pretty…intense.”

“That’s the one consistent thing about him. Not always into the bad shit, but always intense. God, back in the day we—or,
I
— thought our ‘love’ was so special, so rare and, yes, intense.” She rolled her eyes and sighed, then chuckled at her own expense. “
So
damn special that he left me cold. Skipped out with no warning. But hey, he left a note—it wasn’t a text, right?”

Ben blinked and smiled at her. “I thought you were going to say he left you for another hot girl, not that I can imagine anyone hotter than you.” He waggled his brows, as if racking up points.

She shook her head as her face heated to scorching. “No, it wasn’t as dramatic as another woman, though I can’t say for sure there weren’t others.” She scoffed. There likely were. “Anyway, it hurt maybe as bad as catching him with someone else.
I hate cheaters.
” She couldn’t help but think of her father then, marrying another woman. Although her mother had left
them
, Preeya had an image of marriage—idealistic as it may seem,
whatever
. Like
Legends of the Fall
, forever should be forever.
And it wasn’t like Mom left them for another man, another family.
But still, her dad moved on. With
Sylvia
.
Silicone-sexy
Sylvia.

“Preeya…you okay?”

“Oh yeah.” She shut her eyes to reset herself. “Sorry, got sidetracked…
anyway
, here’s the entertaining part. That
good-bye
note that Josh had left me…”

Ben nodded, all attention.

“Well, it included song lyrics that I’d supposedly
inspired
…and now he’s a gazillionaire. Ever hear ‘Sun and Moon in the Guest Room’?”

Ben shook his head, then smirked. “Off the grid for the better part of the year. But wow, that’s insane. Too bad muses don’t get residuals.”

She laughed. “That’s what…a friend of mine said. Anyway, I heard the damn song last night in the cab. It makes me cringe every damn time.”

“Teen love. Oh so deep, yes?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Well, my teen love”—he moved his hand to his chest, to the lanyard around his neck, then dropping his hand back down to the table, he cleared his throat—“became my wife.” He shook his head and sighed, then dug up a thin smile. “Shit, I’m sorry.” But neither his expression nor his apology did a thing to hide the lingering sadness in his eyes.

She could’ve cried a river for him. “It’s fine, Ben, really—”

“No. It isn’t. We had such an amazing day. And”—he slid his hand out across the table, nearly knocking over his wine glass, and grabbed her hand—“you’re amazing, Preeya. Fucking unbelievable to me.”

The heat in her cheeks and the warmth in her chest got her light headed. “Ben.” She looked down at their hands, then laced her fingers with his and slid her other hand on top. Venturing to meet his eyes, she found intensity and something else…and it was almost too much.

Topic change, Preeya
. She had to get them back to the light side before she broke into sobs of
crazy
. Because, damn it, she also had loved the day, and the sweet—and sensual—focus on
them
. And she wanted that back now. For him…and for her. No downers allowed on such a day.

On her fake honeymoon.

She smiled…then untangled their hands to grab the dessert menu. “So, hey, do you, um, want to share a slice of
triple-chocolate
cheesecake? I have such a craving after our crazy
energy-output
today.” She gave him a
super-seductive
glimmer.

But her suggestion was met with a
super
-awkward
silence.

Then he squinted his eyes at her, swallowed, and disengaged his
eye-lock
. With the loss of his gaze went his warmth and their vibe. Ben had left the table, though his body still sat in the chair across from her.

She squirmed in her seat.
Shit, Preeya
. Bad segue
.

She’d been insensitive—no, she’d offended him. Or worse, she’d
hurt
him. And now she couldn’t overcome the heat stroke that had taken her by the throat on its sprint up to her face.

As she fought the tightening in her chest, that old panic as if she were all alone, her phone rang from somewhere in her purse—and there went any hope for resuming their kinetic connection. She closed her eyes and wished that a
slow-motion
blink would rewind and undo the past minute.

But it did nothing.

And the phone just kept buzzing.

“So sorry.” She reached for the phone in her bag to at least stop the obnoxious noise. Then she glanced at the screen, probably deepening the
offensive-factor
, but as it turned out, the call was from SafeHaven. Which she’d just missed.

Not the usual ringtone, though.

“Shit.”

“What is it?”

“It’s, um, not sure. My sister’s facility…but, damn it, um…let me go to the front and call, okay?” And without catching his reply, she’d placed full attention on her phone screen and gotten up from her chair.

She weaved through the maze of tables. Four missed calls from Aunt Champa and three others from SafeHaven?
Fuck.

Why had she left her cell in her purse and her purse in the car all day?

So she could fully experience and enjoy the excursion away from the world. With Ben.

Screw enjoyment.
Experience.
Missing a call from SafeHaven—several calls—
damn it.
The surge of quaking guilt moved her legs and feet and pulse fast,
late-to
-
a-flight
fast. Short of breath, she came upon the slew of people milling about the restaurant’s front lobby and vestibule. She worked for a full breath, then continued out to the parking lot when she pressed the number.