"I moved you to the bed when I woke up," Domitian assured her and then said stiffly, "And we did not bang, we made love."
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "I'm pretty sure you have to love someone for it to be making love, and I don't love you. I don't even know you."
Domitian knew he shouldn't be hurt by her words, but he was. It reminded him that while he'd known for a decade and a half that she was his life mate and had followed her life, coming to admire, respect, and care for her over the years, she'd never even heard his name until just hours earlier. He put that issue aside for now as another cropped up in his mind. "Wait, this cannot be an experiment. There is no way Dressler could know that you are my life mate."
"He does," Sarita assured him. "He told me in the lab, and then he talked about how hot life mate sex is and stuff in the letter he left."
"The letter. Where is it?" Domitian asked at once.
"It's on the desk in the office," she admitted, but caught his arm as he turned toward the stairs and reminded him in a quiet voice, "There are cameras everywhere up there, and in the lab down here too. We need to watch what we do and say."
Domitian's expression tightened. Giving a short nod, he caught her hand and led her back upstairs.
The letter was on the desk where she'd left it. Domitian urged her into the desk chair, and then settled on the corner of the desk and quickly read the message. Unlike her, he only paused to comment once while reading it and that was to curse.
"What?" Sarita asked curiously.
"He knows my name," Domitian said on a sigh.
"Okay," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Was he not supposed to?"
He shook his head. "I have lived under the name Diego Villanueva for the last five years, and that was the name he hired me under."
"Hired you?" Sarita asked with surprise.
"Si." Domitian supposed she'd assumed that he'd just been abducted off the street or something like the others, so he explained, "Dressler has been offering me a job for years and I always refused. But when this kidnapping business was tracked to him, I accepted his offer. The bastard played me from the start," he added grimly. "He knew my real name all along."
"What job did he hire you for?"
"Chef at his home on the island."
Sarita nodded slowly. "Yeah, he played you. Aleta is the cook there and she's amazing. He wouldn't replace her," she said with certainty.
"I am a master chef, trained at all the best European schools," Domitian said a little stiffly.
Sarita shrugged that away as if all his training and skills were of little import and then asked curiously, "So why have you been living under the name Diego Villanueva for five years?"
"Immortals live a long time and do not age. We have to move every ten years to avoid mortals noticing."
"Ah," she murmured with understanding. "What was your name before Diego?"
"My true name, Domitian Argenis," he answered promptly. "And when I leave here I will be Domitian again. Diego the chef has left the restaurant and moved on to greener pastures."
"And no one will recognize that Diego is Domitian?" Sarita asked dubiously.
Smiling faintly, he explained, "I have several restaurants. I will not return to the same one. The manager there will continue managing and reporting to me for another ten years and I will move on to another restaurant or start a new one."
"Right," Sarita murmured and then turned the subject back to where it had started and asked, "So how do you think he knew about me and this life mate business then?"
Frowning, Domitian turned his attention back to the letter and read the rest, but mostly it was just Dressler saying he hoped to learn a lot from their stay in his "home away from home" before he signed off.
Domitian shifted his gaze back up the letter to the part about Sarita being his life mate and that while she didn't know him, they had met when she was thirteen and he'd kept track of her ever since using a private detective. The man seemed to know everything regarding him and Sarita, he noticed with bewilderment.
"I do not know how Dressler knows," Domitian said finally, tossing the letter on the desktop. Meeting her gaze he assured her, "I told no one you were my life mate."
"What about this private detective you hired?" she asked. "Could he have--?"
"No," Domitian said at once. "He is mortal. He knows nothing about immortals and life mates and I did not educate him in the matter."
Sarita accepted that, but then tilted her head and asked, "So what reason did you give the detective for why you were having me followed?"
"Ah." Domitian shifted uncomfortably, grimaced and then admitted, "I told him that your mother was my sister, but that your father and I had a falling out and he would not let me see my only living blood relative anymore. I said I wanted him to keep track of you so that once you were an adult and could make your own decisions I could contact you and you could decide whether you wished to see me or not."
That seemed to shock Sarita. Eyes wide with disbelief, she asked, "You told him you were my uncle?"
"Well, I could hardly tell him the truth," Domitian pointed out, defensively. Scowling, he added, "I do not see why it would bother you anyway."
"Hmmm, I don't know," she said dryly. "Why would it bother me for people to think I was playing patty cake with my uncle?"
"Patty cake?" he asked with bewilderment.
"Bumping fuzzies," she said and when he still looked blank added, "Shaboink."
Domitian just shook his head with bewilderment. He had no idea what she was talking about.
"Never mind," Sarita muttered and then sighed and pointed out, "Anyway, we still don't know how Dressler knew you thought I was your life mate."
"I do not think you are my life mate, I know it," he said firmly. "And you should know it too after what happened in the bathroom."
"Yeah, yeah, it was mind-blowing sex and I fainted," she admitted. "Whatever. That still doesn't explain how Dressler knew."
"No, it does not," he admitted and pondered that briefly and then shook his head. "I have no idea how he found out."
"Well, I guess we can ask him when he comes to get us for part two of the experiment."
Domitian peered at her silently. While her words were light and slightly sarcastic, he could see the fear in her eyes. She was terrified they would not escape and would be forced to take this experiment, if that's what it was, to the next level. He wasn't going to let that happen, however.
"I think we need a swim to relax," he announced suddenly, catching her by the arm and urging her toward the door. He actually got Sarita halfway across the room before she jerked her arm free and spun on him.
"A swim? Are you kidding me?" she demanded.
"I think better after a swim," Domitian said mildly, but jerked his eyes toward the nearest camera as he added, "Trust me. Go get changed and I will fetch towels."
Judging by the way Sarita suddenly calmed and turned toward the door, she'd got his message. "Fine. I'll meet you by the pool."
"Yes," he breathed with relief and waited until she left. Domitian then said, "Towels," and turned toward the French doors. He slid out onto the side terrace and headed for the French doors to the kitchen. A quick glance ahead, and another back the way he'd come as he slid into the kitchen proved that there were no cameras mounted on the side wall of the house.
All Domitian could find in the half bathroom off the kitchen were a couple of hand towels. Shrugging, he took them, and then slipped back outside through the French doors again. He walked around the house to the pool so that he could check the front of the house and the side the pool was on as well. No cameras outside then, he noted as he paused and glanced along the back of the house where the bedroom and en suite bathroom were.
That was something, at least, Domitian decided and carried the towels over to drop them on one of the lounge chairs. At least they could talk out here without the fear of being listened to. It was why he'd suggested a swim. Also, a quick dunk in the cold pool
would hopefully help keep their minds on track if they got distracted from their objective.
That thought in mind, Domitian walked over and dipped a toe in the water to test the temperature.
"How is it?"
Glancing around he saw Sarita approaching in a hanky torn into three tiny triangles that were taped over her important bits. At least that's what it looked like. The bikini bottom had less material than the thong she'd worn earlier, and the bits of cloth over her breasts barely covered her nipples let alone her breasts.
"Dios," Domitian breathed and thought with horror that Dressler was a diabolical bastard.
Sarita slowed as she noted Domitian's expression. The bathing suit she had on, if it could be called that, was the biggest one available. Not big in size--they were all her size--but this one had offered the most material, covering more than the others would have. It still covered very little.
Sarita kept in shape for work. She did a hundred sit-ups and push-ups every morning and night, and then did an hour of cardio every evening after dinner to stay fit and in good running order to chase down perps. She was extremely fit.
Unfortunately, she also liked to eat, and the combination left her fit but still overly curvy. She had thighs and hips she felt were too big and a muffin top that made her groan with despair. However, her body was her body and after a quick grimace on seeing herself in the bikini and noting what it exposed, she'd shrugged and headed out with her head held high.
Now, on spotting the horror on Domitian's face, though, Sarita narrowed her eyes and stopped, almost daring him to say something insulting about how she looked in the swimsuit.
She didn't have long to wait.
"How is a man to think with his woman looking like this?" Domitian exploded, waving at her as if she were a nightmare. "Look at you! Your beautiful breasts overflowing those little patches of cloth. You might as well not even be wearing the top! And those little straps that make up the bottoms. They just draw the eye to your luscious hips and your shapely legs. Oh Dios! Your legs! I just want to lick and kiss my way up their gorgeous length. No! I want to lick and kiss every part of your beautiful body, and then--" He broke off, almost gasping, and then turned and plunged into the pool to start swimming toward the waterfall.
Sarita stared after him rather blankly, her mind slow to understand what she'd just heard. She'd thought him horrified because of how she looked, and he was, but not in the way she'd expected. Good God, the things he wanted to do to her. Domitian would give good phone sex--that was for sure. His words alone had left her standing there wet and aching for the pleasure she already knew he could give her. And she couldn't do a damned thing about it. They had to work out a plan to get off this island, and she was guessing that was why Domitian had suggested the "swim." He had been thinking that there were no cameras here.
She glanced around the pool, eyeing the forest suspiciously. There could be cameras in there that they couldn't see. It didn't matter, however. Being overheard was the main concern and the sound of the waterfall would cover any conversation they had so long as they kept it down. The problem was controlling themselves long enough to talk and come up with an idea to get out of there, and that was starting to seem impossible.
"God, I need a drink," Sarita muttered and glanced over her shoulder toward the house, but turned back quickly at the sound of splashing.
Domitian had surfaced after one lap and was now walking up the pool stairs, the water falling away with each step to reveal his gorgeous shoulders, his wide chest, his flat stomach, and--
Good God, he'd said she might as well not be wearing the top, but he might as well take off his boxers. Soaking wet, they clung to him like a second skin, and were doing nothing to hide the amazing erection he was sporting. It was pointed straight at her, and he was following it she noted, taking a wary step back.
"I need you, mi Corazon," Domitian said helplessly.
"No," Sarita said firmly, taking another step back. "We need to figure out how we're going to get out of here."
"We will walk out at nightfall," he announced, continuing forward.
"But how? If Dressler knows we're trying to leave, he could send men after us. Hell, there could be a fence around this place a mile into the woods where his men are waiting to stop us."
"We will worry about that after I make love to you," Domitian assured her soothingly. "But now . . ." He shook his head helplessly, and gestured toward his penis. "I cannot think like this, querida. I need you. I need to fondle and kiss your sweet breasts and suckle your nipples with my lips. I need to feel and taste your wet heat on my tongue, and then bury myself in your warm, hot body and feel you squeeze and milk me as I thrust into you until we both scream our pleasure."
"We'll faint," Sarita protested weakly, continuing to move back.
"Si, but it is only midafternoon, we have time."
"The cameras," she protested with a little more strength, and her face went grim as she recalled them. Her voicing that worry had been a desperate attempt, but now that they were in her head, they were an issue. She had no desire to be a porn star for the likes of El Doctor.
"The cameras are inside. We are outside," he said gently.
"There might be cameras out here," Sarita pointed out stubbornly, not backing up anymore, but staying put and crossing her arms forbiddingly. "But even if there aren't, we could be seen by the cameras in the living room."
Domitian paused, a frown furrowing his brow as he considered the problem and then he brightened. "The pool."
"We'd drown when we passed out at the end. At least I would," she pointed out.
"Oh, si," he muttered and considered the problem again, and then said, "Come. I have an idea." Catching her arm, Domitian turned and tugged her to the nearest lounge chair where he released her and dropped to sit halfway up, his legs on either side and feet flat on the stones that made up the terrace floor.
"What are you--?" she began with confusion and then gasped with surprise when he caught her by the upper legs, turned her, and tugged her down to sit in the V his legs made.
"There. See?" Domitian murmured, brushing her hair out of the way so that he could press kisses along her neck.
"No, I don't see," Sarita muttered, trying to get back up.
"All the cameras in the living room see is my back," he whispered by her ear before giving it a nip.
"True," she said and her attempts to remove his hands from her waist and get up weakened a bit, but only a bit before she said, "What if there are cameras in the trees?"
"They will see nothing I promise. Watch."
Sarita had no idea what she was supposed to watch until one of his hands left her waist. She glanced around curiously to see that he'd reached behind him to retrieve a . . . towel? She blinked at the tiny hand towel and shook her head. "Those are the towels you brought for us?"
"It was all I could find in the small bathroom off the kitchen," Domitian said with a shrug and opened the towel to rest it on her chest and stomach. Sarita stared down at it with bewilderment until he slid one hand under the towel, and then up under the ridiculously tiny bathing suit top she wore.
Gasping, she pressed back against him with her shoulders while her chest arched upward into the palm that suddenly covered her breast.
"You see? No one will see anything."
Sarita gave a breathless laugh. Her voice was equally breathless as she writhed between his chest and fondling hand and gasped, "So you're . . . just going . . . to grope me . . . to orgasm."
"Oh, much more than that, mi amor," he assured her, sounding a little breathless himself, and then his other hand slid under the towel and down between the cloth of the bikini bottom to cup her between the legs.
Sarita jumped in his arms and gasped as he slid a finger smoothly inside her.
"Much more," Domitian assured her on a groan as his thumb began to slide around the nub above where his finger was plundering her.
Sarita groaned in response, but started to shake her
head. Turning to try to glare at him, she said, "You can't--"
Her protest ended abruptly when his mouth covered hers, his tongue slipping in to silence her own.
Sarita shuddered, her hips moving of their own accord to the dance he was leading, her tongue tangling with his. She lifted one hand to cover his where it remained at her breast, encouraging him as he began to pluck at and toy with the nipple of first one breast and then the other. The combination of everything he was doing was driving her to a fever pitch. Whoever said making out and just hitting first, second, and third base without making it to fourth wasn't very satisfying, had obviously never had an immortal life mate running those bases. The man was driving her wild. One more minute of this and she would--
Sarita's thoughts died abruptly as he slid a second finger in to join the first and her body went off like a rocket. Grabbing for his hands, she tore her mouth away to cry out, vaguely aware that he was shouting as well, and then sunset came early for her as Sarita's mind shut down.
She woke up some time later to find herself reclining on Domitian Argenis's chest as he ran his fingers lazily up and down her arms. He might be a great lover, but he made for a lumpy bed, she decided and immediately sat up. This time he hadn't carried her to the bed. They were still on the lounge chair by the pool.
Sarita caught the hand towel as it started to fall, but on checking to see that her bathing suit was in place and covering as much as it had before this little side excursion, she let the towel drop away and turned to scowl at Domitian as he sat up. "That wasn't fair."
His eyebrows rose in question. "What, mi amor?"
"First you made a meal out of me in the bathroom and now you . . ."
"Pleasured you?" he suggested.
Sarita flushed and turned away. "Yeah, that, here. Meanwhile, you haven't got a thing from it," she muttered, and tried to stand up, only to have him catch her shoulder and keep her on the seat.
"Si, mi Corazon. I have."
"What?" she asked with disbelief. "You--"
"I got great pleasure from both joinings."
Sarita clucked her tongue with irritation and tried to remove his hand from her shoulder so she could get up. "There was no joining. Well, I suppose there was for half a second the first time," she added dryly. "But there was no joining this last time. You just--" Her words died abruptly as Domitian released her shoulder to slide down to catch her hand and drag it back to cover the front of his boxers. He was already semi-erect, or perhaps still semi-erect, she guessed, but at her touch, began to grow. Sarita didn't notice at first, she had frozen, shocked and confused by the excitement and pleasure that jolted through her the moment her hand touched him.