Mystical Seduction: full-length sensual paranormal romance (The Protectors) (21 page)

Holding her in the pool of water, he touched her, caressed
her, and found her ready for him.

He didn’t need any encouragement. He took Faith hard and
fast. She climaxed almost immediately as she clung to him. He felt her need for
him so sharply that he fought off taking his own pleasure while he brought her
to her peak for a second time.

Afterwards, Horace wrapped Faith in a blanket, and simply
held her. Stroking his fingers through her damp hair. “Are you ready to talk
about what’s been bothering you yet?”

She shook her head as if trying to push away her emotions.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide her feelings, not when
Horace could clearly read them in the tears that still floated in her eyes.

But until she was ready to talk, Horace remained content to
cradle Faith in his arms, patiently waiting and praying she would find it in
her heart to open up to him.

“This is the life I want,” she said after a long tense
silence, her voice husky and rough. “I’m not trying to prove myself to my
parents. Not anymore. I love getting out into the world. I love learning about
new civilizations. And learning from them.”

She pushed him away and swept her arm in an expansive arch.
“If I married you, I’d miss this. I don’t want to have to give up my dream in
order to be with you. But, I suppose I’ve already given it up. I can’t be apart
from you ever…not without risking blowing up like a Roman candle on steroids.”

“There’s no reason to worry about your future, Faith. I
promise I won’t let you down. I’ll take care of you. I’ll do whatever it takes
to make you happy. You know how I feel about you.”

Hugging the blanket tightly around her slender shoulders,
Faith paced the small clearing. “That’s the problem, I don’t know where I stand
with you! Am I your servant? Your plaything? Or will you let me be more? Are
you willing to let me into that tight shell you’ve built around your heart? Are
you willing to treat me like your mate, your partner?”

Before Horace could find an answer, she plowed on. “I had no
choice in this. You didn’t either,” she admitted. “And I’m trying to deal the
best way I know how. But it’s hard, Horace. I feel as if I’m being asked to
give up everything.”

God, he didn’t want that. “I don’t want you to give up
anything,” he said quietly. “I would never ask that of you.”

“But you’re unhappy out here, out where I need to be in
order to follow my dreams.” She glanced at her hands. They’d started to glow
again. “I don’t know what I expected out of life. But not this. Never this.” She
sighed deeply, and her golden aura dimmed. “If you followed me, we’d only be
miserable together. You don’t want to be traipsing through the forests of the
world. Look at you, you’re already miserable.”

“Give me a chance to learn how to make you happy.” He’d
learn to love what she loved if that was what it took. “Stop fighting me at
every turn, Faith. Let me show you how you can be happy with me.”

She shook her head and turned away from him. He was pretty
sure he heard her say, “it won’t be enough.”

Before he had a chance to demand she tell him what she
wanted from him—confounding woman, she shouldn’t make him guess—the leaves
beside them rustled.

Horace glanced up. A slender, brown-skinned man stepped into
the emerald-hued clearing.

“Welcome back,” the man said.

And Horace remembered.

* * * *

“I can’t believe it. You remember?” Faith asked. She
tightened her hold on the blanket she’d wrapped around her shoulders like a
native dress. Since they were no longer alone, she set out in search of her
discarded clothes. Her shirt hung on a branch. And her khakis and underwear had
been left at the water’s edge. With a deep blush, she quickly gathered them
into her arms. “You remember everything?”

Horace shook his head. “Not everything. Only this place and
the people who live here. I’ve been here before.”

The slender man, who Horace had introduced as Muk, nodded in
agreement. “You look very much like your parents, Faith Summers,” he said. He
grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously. “It is a pleasure to finally meet
you.”

“Thank you,” Faith replied. Her hold on the blanket covering
her tightened even more as she pried her hand from Muk’s sturdy grasp.

Her emotions and her scientific mind battled. Part of her
wanted to run all the way back to Chicago, or even further. And cry.

She had no right to ask Horace to change for her. She
doubted he could even if he wanted to.

On the other hand, the scientist in her demanded she stay
and learn what needed to be learned about Muk and his people and how they might
be able to help Horace.

After she’d dressed and combed her wet hair, Muk led them
along a narrow trail that climbed up along the side of a steep cliff. The
exertion, along with the late afternoon sun beating down on her shoulders,
soothed her.

“It is a happy coincidence that my parents stumbled across
your village last summer. We wouldn’t have been able to find you otherwise.”

Muk slowed his step and glanced over his shoulder at her.
“There are no coincidences.”

“What do you mean?” Most South American cultures believed in
the influence of fate in some form or another. But the knowing look in his eye
when he answered her made her wonder if he wasn’t suggesting that this meeting
had been somehow engineered.

“That is exactly what I mean,” Muk said.

“You read minds?” Horace asked.

Muk had started to answer, but halted mid-sentence. “How
much does she know?” he asked.

“As much as I do.”

“I was not certain since she is not—” Muk flashed Faith a
wide smile. “Good. Good. That makes everything easier.”

Muk paused to help Faith climb up onto a ledge with Horace
lending a hand from below. The trail had turned steeper than her short legs
could manage.

“I’m not what?” she asked once she stood on steady ground
again. “And what do you mean there are no coincidences?”

“She is filled with questions,” Muk said as he turned to
help Horace climb up onto the ledge. “Not at all like you were.”

“I think she deserves an answer,” Horace said as he brushed
the dust and leaves off his jeans. A waste of time, in Faith’s opinion. His
clothes would only get dirty again. He definitely wasn’t cut out for the
wilderness.

While the two of them might light up the night in the
bedroom, they had a long way to go to be compatible under the sharp glare of
the sun. The more time she spent with Horace, the wider their differences
seemed to grow.

“Do not worry, little cub,” Muk said, softly to Faith. “That
impetuous act you are trying to convince yourself to regret was meant to
happen. There are no coincidences.”

“Even fate has been known to make horrible matches from time
to time. Legends are filled couples brought together by forces beyond them only
to experience tragic ends.”

“True. True,” Muke said. “But have a little faith about him.”
He nodded toward Horace. “He has a good heart.”

“But that might not be enough.”

Muk shrugged. “You had asked about your parents. They did
not stumble across our tribe. No, we lured them here since we knew Horace would
need help finding us. His memories of us are blocked, you see.”

“I know,” Faith said.

“We chose your parents, knowing they would be in a position
to guide him. We showed them what they needed to see.”

“But that was a nearly a year ago. I hadn’t started working
at Club West. I hadn’t even met…”

Muk nodded again. She was beginning to resent that knowing
look of his. Muk suddenly reminded her of the mysterious Frank Stone.

And then it dawned on her. “You’re one of
them
.”

Muk reached out his hand and helped Faith scramble up one
last ledge. The three of them had reached the top of the cliff. Faith
straightened her back as she gazed out over a wide, flat plateau. Mixed in with
the grassland on this high peak, stood a typical indigenous village with about
a dozen thatched roofed huts, made from mud and stone ringing the opening of a
cave. A herd of wooly alpacas roamed freely, munching on the sparse grasses.

“Welcome, wanderer, to the Lost Tribe of the Incas,” Muk
shouted and gave a theatrical bow that had his knuckle scraping the ground.

Dozens of men and women, dressed in beautifully dyed fabrics
woven from alpaca wool and bearing the stunning facial features of their Incan
ancestors, emerged from the small huts and started to crowd around Faith and
Muk. A small, dark-haired woman touched Faith’s hair and cooed.

The settlement was as wonderful as her parents had
described. Faith warmly greeted everyone she met on the plateau. Her
anthropologist mind kicked into high gear. She pulled out a notebook and
started to ask a couple of friendly women detailed questions about their lives.
This was an opportunity of a lifetime, the kind of stuff that turned doctorate
theses into best-selling books.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Horace warned as he walked up
behind her. “None of them are human.”

Faith refused to believe it. These wondrously friendly
villagers
had
to be human. She couldn’t imagine anyone looking more
human or more tied to the earth.

The small tribe lived in the most primitive conditions, much
like Faith would have found if she were to travel back in time several thousand
years. And they appeared to be very similar to the Aymaran people living in
this region. Very similar except for one marked difference.

Faith could find no children anywhere.

The people living high on this cliff ledge were all over the
age of twenty. A few looked to be closer to a hundred years old.

Within the circle of their friendly greetings, she felt
especially drawn to Muk, who described himself as the local sorcerer, which
surprisingly enough was a lowly position in Incan society. Even so, Muk had a
ready smile and, unlike Horace, no compulsion against being completely honest
with her. So perhaps Muk, the sorcerer was a
Protector
. But the rest of
the tribe? No. Faith simply didn’t see how that could be so.

“You’ll be safe with Muk,” Horace promised shortly after
their arrival. He was then rushed away to speak with the village leader, Sapa,
a man who looked old enough to have remembered the ancient ones. Sun-baked
wrinkles set so deep in his leathery skin that they had started to gray in
spots.

While Horace and the leader spoke, Muk showed Faith around
the village, answering her endless litany of questions until her stomach
growled so loudly Muk insisted they take a break.

“I am confused by your relationship with Horace. Though you
have obviously mated with him, there seems to be something missing,” Muk
observed as Faith filled a wooden bowl with a potato stew that smelled both
savory and sweet.

No kidding
,
Faith thought. They were missing the most
important elements of a relationship—honesty, trust, love
.

“Do you care to explain?” he asked.

She didn’t see any reason not to talk to someone about the
thing that had tied her normally logical heart into knots. “The assassin who
tried to kill us several times told me that Horace had mated with me all wrong.
The man was most upset about it, too.”

“Someone is trying to kill you?” Muk dropped his bowl. The
hot sticky stew splattered all over Faith’s pants. “Why did you not tell us
this right away?”

He snatched her bowl away from her—she tried to get it back,
the stew had only reminded her that she’d skipped lunch. He tossed the food on
the ground, which nearly made her cry, and dragged her to the small hut where
Horace still met with the tribal leader.

In the dim light, she spotted Horace sitting on a woven mat
with the wizened leader hovering over him. The man lightly touched Horace’s
temples, which made Horace flinch with pain.

Using an unfamiliar and formal version of the Aymara
language, Muk apologized to Sapa for intruding. “There is a matter of great
importance that must be attended,” he finished in a breathless rush.

Horace turned toward Faith.

Sapa, too, turned toward them and gave a nod, indicating that
Faith should take a seat on the red and black woven mat next to her lover.

“She is his queen. It is only right that she should be here,”
he said. “Welcome to our humble land, Faith Summers. We are honored by your
presence.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, and then grabbed her stomach
when it growled again.

“You let her go hungry?” Sapa asked Muk in a sharp tone.

“There was no time—” Muk started to protest but then stopped
himself. “I am humbly sorry.”

With a wave of Sapa’s hand, two women rose and rushed from
the hut.

“Are you okay?” Faith whispered the question.

Horace looked anything
but
okay. She knelt down on
the mat next to him. She’d never seen him with his defenses completely torn
away.

“No,” he whispered back. “This is too much. I don’t want to
remember what happened to me. I don’t want to know any of this.”

“But you must,” Sapa said. “It is your fate.”

“No.” Horace violently shook his head. “I never asked for
this to happen. And it’s not fair to Faith, either.”

“What isn’t?”

Sapa drew his thin lips into a long line. “First, we must
hear what Muk has to say.”

“Thank you,” Muk said, his voice soft. “Faith Summers has
told me that a man tried to kill them.”

“What man?” Sapa demanded.

“We took care of him,” Horace said.

The women Sapa had sent away returned with two bowls of
stew. Horace refused the one offered to him. Faith didn’t have his willpower.
Though worry ate at her, she knew she couldn’t help figure out what was going
on if half-starved from hunger.