Primal Instincts

“Why?” she asked, her voice not sounding confused or innocent. Just curious.

Why what? He forgot what they were talking about. And he had a sneaking suspicion he was the one who’d started this particular vein of conversation. “Uh…”

Trying to get her into bed while they worked on the book was a bad idea. If he had to work without sleep to get this book written quickly, that would just have to be the price he paid. Hell, he’d go without food, too.

Had he just decided to sleep with Ava Simms? When had he decided that?

About two seconds after spotting her.

That was a bad idea. Really bad. He’d list the multitude of reasons right now. Except none really came to mind at the moment because a nearly naked, gorgeous woman stood before him. How was a man supposed to work in these conditions?

This woman must be covered as soon as possible. Cover. That was it. That’s what he asked about. “Don’t you want to put something on?”

She shrugged again. “Not really. And this way I can show you some of the pattern work.”

It had been his experience that most women had at least one body part they felt self-conscious about. He wouldn’t have complained if his former girlfriends had wanted to parade around in next to nothing. It’s just that they hadn’t. In fact, he’d seen them go to Herculean efforts to cover their thighs with a sheet, or hips with a towel.

It was all ridiculous. Women were beautiful. The key was to find that one part they hated, and then issue compliments. It never failed.

But this woman seemed to have no problem parading around in barely anything.

She lightly touched a rounded circle of blue on her arm. “You see, the woman begins by painting the color blue on her body. This represents the sky and water. Sky and water play a large role in the lore of many cultures around the world.”

He nodded, his gaze shifting from her face to her arm. Don’t look to the right. Although he already knew what he’d see. Her beautiful breasts painted yellow.

“Now did that bother you? That insertion of a little history?”

Not a bit. He shook his head as his mouth watered.

“That’s the approach I think we should take.” Ava trailed her fingers along the green lines crisscrossing on her thighs. “The green represents the earth. New and unknown. Ready to be explored.”

He grew harder as she touched and stroked her skin. His fingers ached to do the same. To trace the green lines, to smudge the blue paint on her body.

“Yellow is the past. The Wayterian people don’t place value on virginity, so a woman may have had several lovers. Do you?”

“Do I what?” he asked, suddenly feeling as if he’d been jerked out of a sex fantasy.

“Place value on virginity?”

“I’m not one if that’s what you’re asking.”

A smile curved along her lips. “Good. I wouldn’t want you cowering in the corner.”

She was laughing at him.

Toying with him, in fact. He should be irritated. Instead he found himself turned on more. Well, two could play that game. He deliberately lowered his eyes to her yellow-painted breasts. “That’s a very bright color.”

“The Wayterian women coat the yellow paint on their breasts. Once the new husband and wife are alone, she takes his hands and places them on her breasts.”

Her nipples hardened before his eyes. She might be toying with him to get a reaction, but she wasn’t immune to him, either.

“The paint never completely dries, so some of the color gets on him, as well. Together they wash the paint, the past, away. They become one, joined by sky, water and earth.”

Ian closed his eyes for a moment, imagining washing the paint off this woman’s body. And Ava washing the color from his skin. Erotic and charged. It was perfect for the book.

“I think this ceremony is beautiful.” Her voice lost its challenging playfulness of earlier. “I’m always moved by the meaning behind the acts.”

And surprisingly, he was, too.

She swallowed, and took a step away from him. “Well, since you’re familiar with this particular rite now, I’ll just hop into the shower and remove the paint. I won’t be long and then we can get started.”

Ian raised his hand, not bothering to hide the look of disbelief he was sure was on his face. “Wait a minute. Are you about to go and take a shower leaving a man you’ve known about ten minutes alone in your apartment?”

For the first time since she’d opened the door, Ava looked unsure. She shifted her balance, and crossed her arms. “I, uh, guess that I was.”

“Lady, you’ve been out in the wild too long. You can’t be so trusting.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You’re Miriam’s brother. It’s not like she’d send a serial killer. It will only take me a few minutes.”

He couldn’t picture sitting calmly on her couch waiting while she showered. Imagining her naked. And wet. He almost groaned.

No. Not going to happen. He had to get out of there. “I’ll check in to the hotel while you’re getting ready. I’m going to grab a bite to eat. The sandwich on the plane could pass for a hockey puck.”

“Oh, I’m getting hungry, too. Why don’t we meet at one of the restaurants down on the canal for a late lunch? You up for Mexican?”

He was up for anything about now. “Sounds good.” Ava turned on her heel, and once again he got a view of her great ass. “I’ll pick you up from here.”

She stopped and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Is this about the shower thing? Don’t worry, I don’t need an escort to keep me safe. Besides, you looked pretty trustworthy to me.”

Trustworthy. Trustworthy? No one had ever accused him of being trustworthy before. Like a teddy bear. Or a cute puppy. That was almost insulting. Ian straightened his shoulders. He was dangerous. A man of the world. Wanted by the law in three countries. At least. He was not a teddy bear.

He’d put an end to that. “Let me know if you need some help with the second part of the ritual,” he said.

“The second part?” she asked.

“The washing off.”

Her full bottom lip curled upward, and a naughty twinkle appeared in her eyes. “I’ll let you know,” she told him.

Now why did that come out sounding like a promise?

4

WHILE THE WATER for the shower heated, Ava quickly typed in the Web site for Cole Publishing. She punched his name in the search fields.

“Bingo.” Over thirty results popped up on her screen. She selected the one at the top, and her screen immediately filled with his image. Obviously the picture on his bio page must have been taken a few years ago. In the photo, he had a friendly smile and the look of someone ready to tackle the world.

Much how she’d felt five seconds before she opened the door to him.