More Than a Fantasy (2 page)

“I put images of the two of us in her mind,” Poseidon continued. “She’s seen us both now, dark and light, like two opposing sides of a coin.”

Tiran raised his brows in surprise and anger. “I will tell the triumvirate what you’ve done.”

Poseidon laughed. “And have both of us punished for entertaining thoughts of congress with a human? Would you chance being forbidden from even visiting this place? Rather, why not indulge the human’s fantasy? I won’t tell if you won’t. One of us will win her affections and the right to take her, just one time. And the other will promise to keep silent about it. We’ll both be guilty, so confession by either of us will damn the other as well.”

Tiran considered. To touch her, talk to her, perhaps even feel her yield to him one glorious time might soothe his rampant desire and allow him to concentrate on the more important prospect of finding a suitable Atlantean mate.

But what if Poseidon won their battle?

Tiran eyed his brother and nodded agreement. He would see to it that Poseidon did not win.

* * * *

Dinner at her father’s table was a silent, tense affair that usually soured Mara’s appetite before the second course. Tonight was no exception. She sat across from Thanatos Zander while sullenly pushing a salmon croquet around her plate.

More than the forced seclusion, more than being torn from her job and her friends, Mara resented that her father made her feel like an unruly teenager. He still babied her unmercifully, which was why she’d moved out of the family estate at nineteen to start her own life.

Now at the age of twenty-six and back under his rule, she represented his greatest weakness, a weakness his enemies would exploit at their first opportunity, and he treated her alternately like a china doll or a foolish adolescent.

She loved her father. And she hated him.

“You weren’t in your studio this afternoon,” he said after a contemplative sip of wine. “I looked for you.”

“I didn’t feel like painting today.”

“With all this beauty around you, I’d think you’d be painting all the time.” He tried to smile, but the expression looked forced. At sixty-two, he’d lived a major portion of his life as a thorn in the side of numerous governments. He made enemies wherever he went, collecting them like some men collected baseball cards. The stress of a life lived outside the boundaries of society was taking a toll, and lately, he seemed incapable of any genuine emotion except thinly veiled anxiety.

Mara gave her father a pointed look, gauging the level of his tolerance this evening by the squint of his dark brown eyes. “If I paint one more seascape, I’ll go berserk. In fact, I’m throwing away every tube of blue paint I own. I want to paint flames or autumn leaves or a rainy cityscape, anything that doesn’t have blue sky or blue water in it.”

“Most people would kill to have the view you’ve got. You should enjoy it while you can.” His gold-plated flatware clinked impatiently on the plate as he scooped a bite of his dinner.

“While I can? How long will that be? You make it sound like our little island vacation might be coming to an end soon.” If only…

He sipped his wine again and dabbed a snow-white linen napkin against his thin lips. “It will be soon. Then you’ll miss this place. I don’t understand how you can be so anxious to return to the squalor of that city.”

“It’s not the city I miss, Papa. It’s the people in it. There’s no one to talk to here. No one to laugh with.”

“I’m no one?”

Mara sighed. They’d had this same fruitless conversation so many times. Her father felt guilty. She understood that. Every time she broached the subject of her loneliness, she intensified that guilt.

“I don’t want to argue tonight, Papa. Can we drop the subject for now? I’m going to take a break from painting for a while. Maybe I’ll spend some time catching up on my reading or relearning all those piano lessons you paid for when I was twelve.”

“Good. Good. You see? You wouldn’t have that luxury in New York. You’d be working all the time at that squalid attorney’s office, commuting on that stinking subway. Here you can relax and indulge your creativity as a woman of your talents deserves to do.”

Mara nodded. She wanted to indulge her creativity all right, but not in the fine arts. She scooped another bite of salmon into her mouth and rose from her chair. “I think I’ll get started tonight, Papa. I’m going to grab a book from the library and find a quiet place to read for a few hours before I go to bed.” As if finding a quiet place on this damned island would be a challenge, she thought.

“Very good, dear. I’ll see you at breakfast. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Papa.”

But she knew he wouldn’t. Thanatos took a number of medications to help him sleep, to keep him calm in the face of constant threats to his safety. Even with seven security guards on his payroll, he feared retribution from those who had grievances against him. Of course, he’d made his own bed, but in doing so, he’d made Mara’s as well.

She didn’t approve of her father’s political dealings and she shouldn’t have cared, but she had become a pawn in his games and she wasn’t keen on being murdered by one of his enemies. So she stayed here where he could keep her reasonably safe until the repercussions of his latest misdeeds died down enough for her to sneak back to her world and resume her life. If nothing else, it was a comfortable bed—if only it wasn’t so big and empty.

* * * *

The late-afternoon sun cast Mara’s shadow, long and straight, ahead of her in the sand. She lay on her stomach, on a double-sized beach towel, with her back to the rising tide and watched a miniature crab dig itself a burrow one damp claw full of sand at a time.

A copy of
Pride and Prejudice
lay unopened next to her. She’d almost begun to read the book half a dozen times, but at the moment, the familiar story just didn’t appeal to her. Not that watching a crab was so fascinating, but at least it was something she couldn’t do in her apartment back home.

She crossed her arms and lay her head
down
, letting the breeze from the water lull her. Her breathing slowed
,
and she fell instantly into the shallow sleep of boredom where her fantasies took shape.

When she lifted her head again, two shadows framed her own on the pale dunes. Startled, she pushed herself up and turned around, clutching her gauzy beach cover-up over her breasts.

Good Lord, this was already an excellent dream. Her vivid imagination had conjured two incredible male specimens.

The one on the left had hair the color of sun-bleached wheat and eyes like polished beryl. He was a mountain of ripped muscle—massive arms, broad chest, narrow hips. Naked and wet, he strolled toward her, a magnificent erection growing between his powerful legs with each determined stride.

The one on the right was her dark fantasy lover from yesterday. Bold blue eyes locked hers in a gaze she couldn’t break. He matched the blond man step for step, muscle for muscle. His cock was longer, jutted higher, where the other’s was thicker and tautly ridged like some exotic dildo.

Mara licked her lips. Which one would she have first? Maybe both at once?

Her hand dropped away from her cover-up and she arched her back so the material pulled away from her breasts. She spread her legs, wondering which one of them would reach her first.

Eenie meenie meinie—oh!

The blond one grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do to you, woman,” he said then laughed. Mara didn’t like the sound, but that didn’t stop her from letting her thoughts roam to which way she’d let him have her first.

“We should let her choose, Poseidon,” the dark one said. His blue eyes sparkled when he looked at her, and the sound of his voice made her shiver with pleasure. The blond’s response just made her shiver.

“We
chose
her. Any female should feel honored by that, Tiran.” He dragged her against his chest and banded her waist with his thick forearm. “Will you walk with me, or should I carry you somewhere where I can bed you properly?”

“Uh…Poseidon?” Mara squeaked out the words. Crushed against his hard abs and bulging pecs, she could barely breath
e
. While she had to admit it felt wonderful to be trapped in a strong man’s arms, she couldn’t help but wonder at how realistic the dream had become. A tremor of fear rippled across the back of her neck, making the fine hairs at her nape tingle. “You’re the God of the Sea?” Dream big, she’d always told the art students she tutored on weekends.

“No. He’s no god,” the dark one said. “He’s merely named for one.”

“I’m as powerful as a god. Would you care to find out how powerful I am?” The blond squeezed Mara harder. His cock indented the flesh of her thigh
,
and it felt like a branding iron. She
pressed
against it, unable to help herself. When he laughed in her ear, her blood began to cool, though.

“You’re frightening her, Poseidon. Let her go.”

“She wants to be frightened. She wants to be chased and captured and held down…don’t you, pretty one?”

“Maybe later…right now, do you think you could let go, just a little bit?”

He let go.

She wobbled while the blood rushed back into her upper torso. “Thanks.”

Poseidon crossed his massive arms over his chest and glared at her. “Are you losing your nerve? When your fantasies come to life before you, you shy away?”

“Uh…I’ve never actually had a fantasy come to life in front of me before, so I don’t have much frame of reference. Can you give me a minute to process?”

The dark one laughed. What had Poseidon called him? Tiran? God, he was beautiful. They both were exquisite, but Poseidon’s was a cruel beauty, a frighteningly complete perfection that left Mara just a little cold.

Suddenly she felt naked under their combined scrutiny. She pulled the edges of her cover-up
closed
. “Where did you both come from?”

Poseidon sneered. “Your imagination. You were dreaming of a good hard fuck, weren’t you? Not pleasant conversation.”

The other looked daunted. He extended one hand toward Mara, coaxing her a step in his direction. “Forgive my brother’s insolence. Would you like to walk with me?”

Mara’s gaze bounced from one to the other. Some dream, she thought.
Maybe it’s time to wake up.
She concentrated for a second, but nothing changed. The two men stared at her, Poseidon with impatience and Tiran with benign curiosity.

“So you’re saying you’re not real?”

“This is a waste of time, Tiran. She asks too many questions when she should be prostrate, waiting for her champion to make use of her.”

“I
what
?” Mara took another step away from Poseidon.

“I’m bored with this game, brother. I’ll leave her to you and find sport with a woman of our own race.”

With that, Poseidon turned on his heel. In five powerful strides, he stood knee deep in the waves, and Mara’s jaw dropped when his body seemed to liquefy into a shimmering pillar of water. She gaped as the pillar folded into itself and merged with the beating surf.

Definitely a dream.
She gave Tiran a bewildered look.

He laughed. “It wasn’t our intent to frighten you. I’m glad Poseidon decided to leave. I wasn’t interested in fighting with him.”

Me, too, she thought. “You come from the sea?” Lame question. She was full of them, it seemed.

He nodded as if the revelation was of no consequence. “Sit down. Don’t fear me. I won’t hurt you. I wasn’t sure I believed Poseidon when he told me of your fantasies.”

“My fantasies? How would he know about my fantasies?” Despite her alarm, Mara felt strangely compelled to sit. She folded herself down on the beach towel and her naked visitor crouched beside her. When her gaze strayed to his impressive erection, she realized he now wore dark blue swim trunks. Where had they come from?

“Poseidon entered your mind. It’s against our laws and I apologize for him. I will never intrude on your thoughts in that way. I promise you.”

“Oh. Good.” Now Mara felt dreamy and tired. Her surroundings seemed to waver and blur, and she indulged the sudden desire to lie back on the warm towel.

Tiran loomed over her for a second, his broad shoulders blocking the orange light of the setting sun. She imagined he cupped her cheek with one large hand and caressed her skin almost reverently. The gentle touch made her nipples harden and the muscles of her pelvis clench. His hand trailed down her neck, fingers teasing the skin and dancing down her chest. He parted the front of her cover-up, and she felt his feather-light touch skim her breasts, then trail down to her stomach, where he rested his flattened palm just above her bikini.

“Tell me your name,” he said.

Mara obeyed.

He repeated the syllables with an appreciative smile. “If you tell me your fantasies, Mara, I’ll make them come true.”

“I…” A thousand naughty thoughts vied for attention in her brain. Could she really ask him to do anything?