need. Her
body trembled, and hot licks of sensation swept over her shivering skin. She
pressed her hips against him, against the hard ridge of his erection, oblivious
to their frightening, fascinating surroundings, to danger, to anything beyond
the scent and touch and pure eroticism of Dax, of this moment, of the man who
touched her so sweetly.
It was Dax who finally broke
the kiss, licking her lips, nibbling along the line of her jaw, and then
planting a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose before setting her back on her
feet. He cupped her face in his big hands and looked into her eyes.
“Thank you, Eddy Marks. No
matter what happens, you have shown me a world I never expected. One I didn’t
dream existed. You’ve already given me my taste of Paradise.”
She bit her lips between her
teeth, but there were no words. Everything she felt was in her eyes:
excitement, fear, confusion, arousal. When Dax smiled, she knew he understood.
She only wished she did. He
wasn’t real. He wasn’t even human.
He was everything she wanted,
and more. And he couldn’t have been more wrong for her. More impossible. She
tasted him on her lips, and all her feminine muscles clenched in need.
Desire trumped fear.
If he thought this was
Paradise, what would he think if she showed him where that kiss of his might
lead? She wasn’t willing to let it go—not the kiss, not Dax, not the feelings
coursing through her body, flowing like the golden curtain guarding their way.
She wanted more of it, more of Dax.
More of Paradise.
He said he had less than a
week. She wanted more!
Much, much more.
Dax took her hand. Eddy
grabbed Bumper’s leash and set aside everything but their mission. Lemurians . She had to focus on finding the Lemurians.
Dax squeezed her fingers. His
smile was confident. Bold. Willow ducked down into his pocket. Eddy tightened
her grip on Bumper’s leash, and together they stepped through the flowing veil
of gold.
Chapter Four
Monday night—day two
Alton, first son of Chancellor
Artigos of the Ruling Council of Nine and heir apparent to the throne of
Lemuria, leaned against one of the golden columns in the Inner Sanctum of the
Lost City and cursed.
Quietly, of course. It
wouldn’t do to upset the status quo.
Even though he was bored to
tears with the status quo.
It didn’t help his disposition
any that he was heir to the throne of an immortal king. Not that he wanted
anything to happen to his father, but there wasn’t much hope for job
advancement.
Since he was also
immortal—though he could be killed, old-age and illness weren’t issues—he’d
been heir apparent for what felt like forever. Dear old Dad was just as healthy
and hard-headed now as he’d been back before the citizens of Lemuria had packed
up their doomed kingdom and moved to a separate dimension within the mountain
known as Shasta so many thousands of years ago.
Of course, the sanctuary the
elders had chosen was deep inside a dormant volcano, one that tended to erupt
every six hundred years or so, which meant packing everything up and evacuating
until the mountain settled into dormancy once more. During the last eruption
they’d moved through a portal in the vortex to Sedona in the American
Southwest. Fascinating country, rich with ancient spirits and unique
connections through a different set of dimensional portals and vortexes.
At least it had engendered a
bit of excitement.
Anything was better than the
endless philosophical discussions that now occupied the ruling class of
Lemuria. Arguing dogma got old after a few thousand years, especially when no
conclusions were ever reached. Alton had only needed a couple of clandestine
journeys to the world outside Mount Shasta to be reminded once again that there
was more to life than philosophical discourse and unending debate.
Earth was amazing, its humans
even more so. They seethed with emotion. Humans seemed to act without thought
or concern for the common good.
No…they felt, and
body trembled, and hot licks of sensation swept over her shivering skin. She
pressed her hips against him, against the hard ridge of his erection, oblivious
to their frightening, fascinating surroundings, to danger, to anything beyond
the scent and touch and pure eroticism of Dax, of this moment, of the man who
touched her so sweetly.
It was Dax who finally broke
the kiss, licking her lips, nibbling along the line of her jaw, and then
planting a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose before setting her back on her
feet. He cupped her face in his big hands and looked into her eyes.
“Thank you, Eddy Marks. No
matter what happens, you have shown me a world I never expected. One I didn’t
dream existed. You’ve already given me my taste of Paradise.”
She bit her lips between her
teeth, but there were no words. Everything she felt was in her eyes:
excitement, fear, confusion, arousal. When Dax smiled, she knew he understood.
She only wished she did. He
wasn’t real. He wasn’t even human.
He was everything she wanted,
and more. And he couldn’t have been more wrong for her. More impossible. She
tasted him on her lips, and all her feminine muscles clenched in need.
Desire trumped fear.
If he thought this was
Paradise, what would he think if she showed him where that kiss of his might
lead? She wasn’t willing to let it go—not the kiss, not Dax, not the feelings
coursing through her body, flowing like the golden curtain guarding their way.
She wanted more of it, more of Dax.
More of Paradise.
He said he had less than a
week. She wanted more!
Much, much more.
Dax took her hand. Eddy
grabbed Bumper’s leash and set aside everything but their mission. Lemurians . She had to focus on finding the Lemurians.
Dax squeezed her fingers. His
smile was confident. Bold. Willow ducked down into his pocket. Eddy tightened
her grip on Bumper’s leash, and together they stepped through the flowing veil
of gold.
Chapter Four
Monday night—day two
Alton, first son of Chancellor
Artigos of the Ruling Council of Nine and heir apparent to the throne of
Lemuria, leaned against one of the golden columns in the Inner Sanctum of the
Lost City and cursed.
Quietly, of course. It
wouldn’t do to upset the status quo.
Even though he was bored to
tears with the status quo.
It didn’t help his disposition
any that he was heir to the throne of an immortal king. Not that he wanted
anything to happen to his father, but there wasn’t much hope for job
advancement.
Since he was also
immortal—though he could be killed, old-age and illness weren’t issues—he’d
been heir apparent for what felt like forever. Dear old Dad was just as healthy
and hard-headed now as he’d been back before the citizens of Lemuria had packed
up their doomed kingdom and moved to a separate dimension within the mountain
known as Shasta so many thousands of years ago.
Of course, the sanctuary the
elders had chosen was deep inside a dormant volcano, one that tended to erupt
every six hundred years or so, which meant packing everything up and evacuating
until the mountain settled into dormancy once more. During the last eruption
they’d moved through a portal in the vortex to Sedona in the American
Southwest. Fascinating country, rich with ancient spirits and unique
connections through a different set of dimensional portals and vortexes.
At least it had engendered a
bit of excitement.
Anything was better than the
endless philosophical discussions that now occupied the ruling class of
Lemuria. Arguing dogma got old after a few thousand years, especially when no
conclusions were ever reached. Alton had only needed a couple of clandestine
journeys to the world outside Mount Shasta to be reminded once again that there
was more to life than philosophical discourse and unending debate.
Earth was amazing, its humans
even more so. They seethed with emotion. Humans seemed to act without thought
or concern for the common good.
No…they felt, and
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