Chapter 2
Mel rolled over and buried her face in her pillows, smiling to herself. Her dreams the night before had been wonderful, dreams of Cole. She almost always had dreams of Cole lately, but these had been exceptional. The moonlight stroll that had failed to pan out the night before because of a threatening rainstorm had unfolded in her dreams, the two of them walking hand in hand down the moonlit beach before stopping to share a slow dance. It had culminated with an absolutely breathtaking kiss which was, amazingly, as far as she had ever gone with Cole in her dreams. She was reluctant to relinquish such a lovely dream, so she clung to sleep long after she was fully conscious, trying to reclaim it.
"Mel?" Cole's voice invaded her drowsy state, rousing her. "Mel, are you awake?"
"Sort of," she muttered, rolling on to her back and opening her eyes. "Hey, Cole," she greeted him, suddenly wondering what those lips would feel like against hers in reality. "You have a good night?"
"Yes, Mel. I read a book about the native culture here. It was very interesting."
Mel smiled up at him, pulling her covers to her chin and holding them there. "I'm glad. What time is it?" she yawned, stretching.
"Very early, Mel. Not even six yet."
"Oh, right. The time zone difference…" Mel nodded and yawned again, reluctantly sitting up. "Guess that means we can get an early start."
"Yes, Mel." He smiled and nodded. "I ordered room service when I sensed that you were beginning to wake," he told her.
"Oh, you're a doll." Mel smiled and flopped back into the bed.
"I am, Mel?" he asked, confused.
"Yeah. You really are." She grinned up at him, shaking her head. "It means you're a sweet person," she explained gently.
"Oh. Okay." He smiled and nodded. "You are a doll, too, Mel."
She chuckled and shook her head. Content and languid and completely at ease for the first time in ages, she was also feeling a bit playful. Grinning, she reached up and caught his hand, tugging until he consented to sit down on the edge of the bed.
"So… what do Cirronians do while vacationing on Orsus?" she inquired.
Cole smiled back, liking Mel's more relaxed and open way of behaving while on vacation. He could sense how calm and happy she was, more calm and happier than she had been since their initial meeting. It was a change that he could see himself getting used to. Perhaps, when they got back to Chicago, he could find little ways of encouraging such behavior from her. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he could even find a way to inspire such joy from her.
"We do many things, Mel. There are nature hikes, and archeological sites to visit, and there are beaches and restaurants and others to keep company with." His smile grew nostalgic. "When Nallia and I were first married, we went to Orsus often. It was beautiful, Mel. Very… alive and… romantic. Especially romantic, Mel."
"Sounds nice," Mel told him, smiling faintly. "A lot of couples, well human couples, come to Hawaii for their honeymoon. Um, that's a short vacation that a lot of human couples take alone together during the time right after they get married."
He smiled and nodded. "Many other cultures do the same, Mel. An Enixian couple may go into isolation for up to a month."
"Yeah, well, knowing what Enixians look like…"
Cole chuckled. "Enixians are quite beautiful to other Enixians, Mel," he pointed out.
She nodded faintly. "Yeah, I guess that members of any species are beautiful to each other."
"And sometimes to others," Cole added gently, smiling and gently caressing her throat.
Mel's eyes widened as it occurred to her exactly what she was doing: laying in bed discussing romance and romance and love with Cole as he smiled down at her and pet her too-sensitive throat. What worried her even more than the situation itself was the fact that he was obviously enjoying touching her as much as she was enjoying being touched by him. It was just too romantic, too intimate. Other than the fact that they were not married, they could as easily have been just another pair of honeymooners. A casual observer certainly would not have been able to tell the difference.
More and more, that was true of the relationship between Cole and herself. They had quickly gone from being complete strangers to being closer than most couples. It was nerve-wracking to Mel at times, euphoric at others, and never anything in between. Her mind screamed at her that a relationship between them could never work, was doomed at the outset. It was true, too, and rationally she knew it. Her heart simply refused to listen.
Sensing her increasingly turbulent emotional state, Cole reluctantly withdrew his hand from her throat and rose. "What are we going to do today, Mel?" he asked, hoping to distract her from whatever had upset her.
"Well, let's go down to the entertainment coordinator's office and grab a schedule before we decide. Might be something fun on there."
Ten minutes later, in the Entertainment Coordinator's office, Mel had found her 'something fun'. "Oh! Hula lessons, Cole!" she exclaimed, smiling. "I've always wanted to try the Hula."
He peered over his own copy of the schedule, his expression curious. "What is a 'Hula', Mel?"
She grinned. "It's a native dance."
He smiled and nodded. "It sounds fun. We should take these lessons. I like dancing with you."
Mel, assailed by a mental image of Cole in a grass skirt and coconut bra, was momentarily rendered speechless. "Uh, Hula would be a native dance generally preformed only by females, Cole."
"Oh." He nodded faintly. "I'll just watch then."
"Oh, come on. There has to be something on there that interests you," Mel coaxed. "It's a vacation. Have fun! Expand your horizons!"
Since Mel seemed fairly insistent, Cole nodded and regarded the list again, pursing his lips thoughtfully before smiling. "This one looks fun, Mel," he announced, pointing. "But what's that word?"
"Maori," Mel provided. "Lessons on how to perform a Maori fire-dance. Sounds interesting." She nodded faintly.
"Definitely interesting," the Entertainment Coordinator provided from her desk, smiling up at them. She was almost as fair-skinned as Mel, but she dressed like a native, absently used Hawaiian words while talking, claimed to be a 'kanaka maoli', and her name-tag read 'Nahoa'. Cole was absolutely fascinated with the large flower tucked behind one ear, 'for malihini' according to her, and he kept turning his attention from the list in his hands back to it. Nahoa politely ignored his scrutiny. "Though it is fairly challenging and not generally recommended for beginners…"
"Oh, Cole will be fine," Mel told her. "He is an incredibly fast learner."
Nahoa shrugged. "Well, if he thinks he can handle it, he's welcomed in the class. Sound good to you, Cole?" she asked.
He nodded faintly. "It sounds interesting. I like to dance and it has been my experience that many native dances are similar in style and at least the basic movements."
Mel raised an eyebrow, curious as to where along the line the teacher-turned-Tracker had become an expert on native dance styles. And on which planet…
Nahoa grinned. "Ah, so you do have some experience with these sorts of dances? Good. That'll make it way easier on you. Let's get you signed up," she suggested, searching her desk for the sign-up sheet. "I think Keoni, our kumu for Maori olapa, has one slot left open… it's a small class."
"Oh, look, Cole. It says that some of the people who take dancing lessons can perform at the Luau tonight if they want. You going to drag me up and stage and make me Hula?" Mel joked.
"I'd like to see you Hula, Mel. You should do it."
"No," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "The lessons will be fun and I will give you a private rendition later. Maybe. But I am not doing it in public."
Cole frowned faintly but nodded anyway. "Okay, Mel…"
***
"You were not kidding about his learning curve," Nahoa said, seeking Mel out at the Luau. "I just talked to Keoni and he says that he has never seen a Haole move like this one. Sucked at it at first. For about five minutes. Now he is…"
"Missing in action," Mel said, looking up as the bartender approached. "Mart… no, it's a Luau. Let's go with a Mai Tai."
"Coming right up, ma'am," he told Mel, smiling and nodding.
Mel resumed looking around. It was hard to make out facial features in the crowd, with the only light provided by several dozen Tiki torches and the bonfire outside the large pavilion, but she was relatively certain that Cole was not there. She frowned in concern, wondering if he could possibly have run into a fugitive, but her frown gave way to a smile when she was hit with a mental image of Zin in Bermuda shorts. It was a silly concern anyway, she knew. There was no reason for there to be any fugitives in Hawaii. Still smiling over that hard-to-shake mental image of Zin, she continued to scan the crowd.
"He's getting suited up," Nahoa provided, noticing her scrutiny of the crowd. "Keoni talked him into sharing his talents with the crowd. Didn't even have to get him drunk, which--"
"Nahoa!"
"Keoni! Aloha!" She grinned and delivered a quick salute in the direction of the short, skinny man with about 80 tattoos ambling toward them in nothing but a grass skirt and Lei. "This is Melanie."
"Melahna… sounds Hawaiian." He smiled warmly at Mel, his black eyes laughing. "Mind if I call you Mea A'a?" he asked, winking. "It means 'adventurous one'. Are you adventurous?" he asked innocently.
"Stop flirting with the guests," Nahoa suggested, smiling and shaking her head. "This is Melanie who is here with Cole."
His eyes widened along with his smile and he nodded readily. "Of course, the radiant Mel! Your reputation precedes you. But you need to have a long talk with Cole because his descriptions of you, although they are frequent, completely fail to do you justice… Radiant does not begin to cover it. Although I think I will call you Mea A'a… Cole says that you're very brave," he confided.
"Not brave enough to get up on that stage after the way I screwed up those Hula lessons, but I have my moments," Mel said, accepting her drink from the bartender with a nod and a thanks. "Nice skirt by the way," she added, not sure what else to say to a tattooed flirt of a man, wearing nothing but a skirt and Lei, who was smaller than Jess and twice as exuberant.
Keoni grinned and bowed his head in acknowledgement of her words. "Wait until you see Cole in his."
Mel laughed and shook her head at the joke.
"You know, I think we can probably find one to fit you," Keoni offered.
"Thanks but no thanks." Mel grinned and shook her head.
"My loss," he said, shrugging.
Nahoa rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He thinks it's cute."
"No. I think I am cute." Keoni winked at Mel. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go keep Cole from burning down the pavilion."
"Burning down the pavilion?" she repeated with wide eyes.
"The fire-dance involves lit torches," Keoni explained.
"And he's so bad at it that you're afraid he's going to set something on fire?" she whispered, staring at him.
"No. He's actually pretty good. Just has this bizarre fixation with burning torches. At the rate he's going, he's going to burn them out before he gets on to the stage." Shrugging, Keoni trotted off, taking advantage of his slight form to weave nimbly through the crowd as if it did not exist.
"Sorry about him," Nahoa told Mel with a smile. "He's a kolohe we love him anyway." She shook her head. "You should see him on caffeine."
Mel smiled, amused. "That guy with a buzz? Probably not for the uninitiated…"
"Tell me about it." She rolled her eyes and smiled at Mel. "Hey, got to get now. Aloha."
"Aloha," Mel replied, shaking her head. "Strange guy…"
She sipped at her drink, wondering if Keoni had been serious about Cole's pyromaniacal tendencies. A line of thought that was completely put out of her head when a group of step-dancers vacated the stage and Keoni jumped up long enough to announce cheerfully into the mike that his newest, most talented, and now-favorite student would be performing a traditional fire-dance next. Idly, she wondered if Cole really had learned that quickly, which was certainly a possibility, or if it was normal for them to compliment students on their accomplishments to such an extent, sucking up to the tourists. Either way, she was looking forward to seeing Cole in motion. That was always a sight worth seeing whether he was stripping, slow-dancing, or just walking down the street. She picked up her drink and spilled half of it on herself as Cole stepped onto the stage.
"My God in Heaven," she whispered once her heart started beating again.
Keoni had not been joking about the grass skirt… Cole sauntered confidently on to stage, twirling a torch lit on both sides in each hand, and wearing a grass skirt, a smile, a thin sheen of either oil or sweat, and not much else if the cheers from the women closest to stage were any indication. He scanned the crowd for a moment, smiling and waving a torch in her direction when he spotted her. Smiling automatically, she lifted one hand in acknowledgement before draining her glass and grabbing the bartender.
"I need another drink right now. And please make it stronger."
"Friend of yours?" he asked with a grin, refilling her glass.
Mel nodded faintly and took a long sip of the drink. When the drums started, she grabbed the bartender again.
"Just keep them coming," she directed, unable to tear her eyes from the stage long enough to even notice the bartender's faint smirk at her reaction. But he kept the drinks coming and Mel kept drinking.
The drums beat out a quick, frantic rhythm as Cole danced on stage, moving his hips in time and twirling the torches fast enough that she could not distinguish the individual burning ends, only a ring of fire. He occasionally switched each to the other hand with a single, deft toss. Once upon a time, Mel had thought that taking his clothes off while dancing was about as sexual as Cole got. She had been wrong.
Very, very wrong.
The beat from the drums alone was strong, primal, masculine, aggressive, physical, and incredibly erotic… and Cole was one-upping it. Consummately.
Half the women in the audience were as stunned to silence by the display as she was. The rest were cheering loudly enough to more than make up for the lack. The men were cheering him on just as loudly, if for different reasons, impressed by the physical display and Cole's endurance in dancing on and on without ever losing rhythm with the increasingly rapidly tempo. And he was not even breaking a sweat or, for that matter, showing any sign of being likely to do so any time soon.
Mel was sure her heart was beating at least as fast as the drums as she watched his body move in short, quick, aggressive bursts that still managed to seem fluid simply because they were so consistent with the beating drums and with each other. Not to mention being unsettling consistent with the look on his face, the wildest, most feral expression she had ever seen on the face of a man who was not some psychotic alien trying to kill her. His eyes had at first followed the movement of the torches in his hands, but now she doubted if they saw anything going on in front of him. He was in his own world. He had managed to work himself into something between a trance and a frenzy, but he never lost control… Not of his own movements and not of his captive audience.
And through it all, he wore a facial expression somewhere between a manic smile and a savage snarl as glassy eyes automatically tracked to follow the light of his torches. His expression was a few notches above that of a man at the height of the most amazing sex of his life. Which, judging by the way he was moving now, would probably be pretty fantastic, Mel decided, draining another glass. Never tearing her eyes from Cole, she reached backwards, groping around on the bar until she found her next drink.
When the drums stopped, so did Cole, as quickly and abruptly as if a switch had been thrown. He stood completely still on the stage, his breathing heavy but not at all labored, an almost ecstatic smile on his face. As the audience screamed and cheered, the only thing he seemed aware of was Mel herself. He stood on stage for a full minute, his expression slowly returning to normal as he watched Mel, completely absorbed with her. Wearing a tender, docile expression that stood in stark contrast to his earlier, feral one, he jumped fluidly off the stage and walked straight towards her. The crowd parted before him as if still under the spell he had cast while on stage.
And why not? Mel was still completely under that spell.
And when Cole reached her and transferred both torches to one hand so that he could stroke her throat, she was not even aware that her glass had slid from her hand and shattered at her feet. All she was aware of was fingers skimming over flesh even more sensitive than usual, of an incredible, electric thrill that completely failed to stop at her throat, exploding outwards until there was no one in the universe but Cole and herself. Inhibition and restraint had absolutely no place in this realm of Cole's creation.
"God, Cole," she breathed, wrapping one arm around his neck and resting her free hand against his heaving chest. She realized that his heartbeat was not even elevated. That much endurance… "Oh, God. Wow…"
"Oh, Mel, that felt amazing," Cole murmured, wrapping one arm around her waist. He did not even take notice when Keoni removed the still-burning torches from his other hand, simply using the opportunity to wrap his other arm around Mel as well and pull her body flush against his.
If Mel had been even slightly more sober or a little less entranced, she would have panicked at that moment. In Cole's arms, there was no denying exactly how aroused he was. It was positively indecent to be that excited in public and she knew it. She simply did not care. She was right there with him.
"God," she moaned again, pressing her face into his chest. She inhaled deeply, drinking in his amazing, spicy scent, mingled with a new one, muskier. She had never wanted him, or anyone, this badly in her entire life. It was a desire beyond wanting. This was hunger, need, and his amazing smell, heaving chest, and aroused state were only compounding it. Without even trying, Cole had managed to seduce her. Innocent Cole. "Where did you learn to move like that?" she demanded abruptly, staring up at him with a confused expression.
That had not been her Cole up there, could not have been. Cole was gentle, methodical, tender. That creature up on stage had been a wild, frantic, sexual being. And this man, while very aroused and watching her with undeniable passion in his expression, was still her gentle, tender Cole.
"Orsus," he laughed in answer to her question, smiling down at her and trying to pull her more firmly against his body. It felt wonderful to hold her like this and the effect of his arousal on her was not lost on him. She was not pulling away! He laughed again, feeling euphoric. "Mostly on Orsus. And Waikiki…"
Mel giggled at the amendment. "Wacky what now, Daggon? Which planet is that again?"
His smile faded slightly. "Are you drunk, Mel?"
"Yup, and it's all your fault," she teased, regarding him with an undeniably amorous expression.
"Mel?" He frowned uncertainly. "How much have you had to drink?"
"Not nearly enough, because I don't think I'm ever going to be able to forget what I just saw. Not that I would want to, but I foresee a lot of cold showers in the future," she admitted.
"Mel, too much alcohol is bad for you," he pointed out gently. "It can cause tissue damage and kill brain cells…"
"It only kills the weak ones," Mel assured him, planting a kiss on his chest, over his heart. His flesh burned under her lips, more heated than she had ever felt it. Worry overrode desire. "You're hot, Cole… Your skin, it's burning up." She frowned up at him. "Are you okay?"
"Better than okay," he assured her, nodding. "But I could use some fresh air."
"Yeah, me, too… let's get out of here."
He smiled and nodded. Fresh air and time alone with Mel, exactly what he needed. "I'll give you the skirt back tomorrow, Keoni," he muttered distractedly to the grinning man, half-carrying Mel from the pavilion. "We'll miss the food, Mel," he noted.
"That's fine by me. My God, Cole. You were amazing up there."
"It felt amazing, Mel. I've never felt like that before in my life."
"You looked like you were in a trance or something."
"The fire," he explained, gathering her into her arms again now that they were alone in the cool night air. Again, she did not pull away, in spite of the fact that he was still quite obviously aroused. "It was the fire…"
"What about it?" she murmured, relaxing against him. Alone with him, there was even less reason to fight what she was feeling.
"The fire reminded me of a joining. The light and power and the way it flickers and pulses… There is a strong psychological connection for Cirronians between fire and mating. The whole thing reminded me of a joining, really. More physical, but… similar emotions. You're beautiful in the moonlight, Mel," he noted, stroking her throat. "Firelight… seeing you in the light from the torches, the look on your face… Oh, God, Mel… Can you move like that?" he asked abruptly. "I would love to see you move like that." He closed his eyes at that mental image and abruptly found that a state of arousal that he did not think could have gotten any stronger or more insistent had.
"I don't know if I can. We can try. Maybe we could…" She took a deep breath before finishing, "Move like that together?"
His body had a very obvious reaction to that statement.
It was all Mel needed. "Take me back to the hotel room," she ordered, kissing his throat. "Dear God, Cole… How about a repeat performance once we get there?"
He nodded quickly. Even he was not uneducated enough about human physiology to miss what she was asking him for. In spite of his earlier exertions, he felt more than capable of answering that request. All night long. Anything to hear her saying his name in that tone of wonder again, to feel her body yielding against his, more accommodating than it had been, even during that amazing dance she had shared with him.
Anything at all to please Mel, to give her exactly what she wanted now and he had wanted for months. He was no longer even concerned about his inexperience, a consideration that usually troubled him greatly when he reflected on a physical joining with Mel. He could figure it out as he went along. He was not worried. He had seen her reaction during his dance. He would see her react so again.
Laughing, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. "Repeat performance, Mel," he agreed, feeling breathless. "Maybe no skirt this time…"
"Sounds good," she murmured into his neck, her lips quickly becoming otherwise occupied there. She giggled when the startled Cirronian nearly dropped her. "You don't like it?"
"I like it a lot, Mel. You can do that to me whenever you want. As often as you want to," he added.
"I'll remember that." She nodded and smiled up at him, relaxing into his strong grip. Was this her Cole or that creature from the stage? Tender and gentle or primal and erotic? Did it matter? "Speaking of the grass skirt, Cole. Are you wearing anything else?"
"No, Mel."
"Good. Because I am not in the mood to waste any time once we get into bed. In fact, the sand is probably pretty soft."
"Mel, you are not sleeping in the sand."
"Sleeping was not what I had in mind." She drew his earlobe between her lips, nibbling it. "That's not a side to you I've seen before."
"It's not a side I've ever really felt before, Mel," he confessed. "The drums and the flame… they took over. But it was amazing. Did you like it?" he asked, carrying her across the lobby and ignoring the looks they were getting.
"It was a little scary," she admitted, shrugged as he carried her into the elevator. "You weren't gentle like you normally are. You looked so ferocious… dangerous, almost."
"I can be very dangerous, Mel," he told her honestly. "But with you, only ever gentle," he promised.
"Good." Mel smiled up at him. "Watching you up there was… quite an experience, but I think I like having gentle Cole better."
"If you like him better, he's yours," Cole promised, shifting Mel in his arms to open the door. "You called me Daggon in there, Mel. You've never called me that before."
"You were Daggon in there, Cole. Not gentle, not sweet. You were strong, dominant. Bed, please."
"Dominant?" he chuckled, carefully setting her where she requested.. "What makes you think Daggon is a dominant creature, Mel?"
She ignored the question. "You were in complete control of every man and woman in that place and they didn't even know it," she breathed. "You had me… completely under your spell."
He frowned faintly, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking her throat. "Mel, I don't want you under any spell. I don't want control, either."
"What do you want then?" She smiled up at him, rising and untying her sarong. Smiling at him, she let it fall to the floor. Her bra and underwear quickly joined them there as he looked on, stunned.
"Mel, lay down," Cole murmured, shaking his head. Exactly as he did not want her under some spell, exactly as he did not want to control her, he could not share this with her while she was so severely intoxicated that she was not herself. She was so beautiful, so inviting standing there before him like that, but he simply could not. It would have been beyond wrong. "You've had too much to drink."
Mel grinned faintly. "Answer me and I might just consider joining you in that bed, Cole. What do you want from me?"
"Not much, Mel." Cole smiled gently at her, rising and scooping her up into his arms. "I'll get your pajamas," he announced, depositing her on the bed.
"I'm not going to need them!" Mel called after him, laughing, but she was already asleep by the time he returned.
Sighing, he changed her into them and tucked her in. Shaking his head, he sat down on the edge of the bed. "What do I want? Don't you know yet?" he whispered, smoothing her hair out of her face.
He spent almost an hour watching her sleep before retreating to the other bed, in dire need of a meditative cycle to recharge both his mind and his body. His thoughts kept turning back to the woman on the bed next to his, though, making meditation impossible. She had asked of him what he had been wanting to give to her for months now. Intoxicated or not, the desire must have already been within her. Part of him felt that he should have given in to her request, to become one with Mel, to give her what she asked of him. One night in her arms, but taken in such a way that she would never trust him again. Measured against the possibility of an eternity without her love or her touch.
He would take that eternity, no contest. But that did not stop his throat from remembering the feel of her lips, or his body from remembering the way hers had felt against it when she was completely receptive to the idea of them coming together as one. Her voice breathing his name. That memory was the hardest, not helped by the fact that she was now talking in her sleep. To him. Or some dream avatar conjured by her mind to give her what he could not. Not that it mattered, since it was her name on his lips and he had to hear it.
"Oh, that's nice… Mmm, oh God, Cole."
"Not tonight, Mel," he breathed, more than half prayer. "Why don't you dream about Vic?" he suggested.
"I love your hands."
He sighed and opened his eyes, sitting up. "I know you do. What about me, though?" he murmured, shaking his head as she moaned again.
"Wow… Oh, Cole, yes… yeah, like that. There… God, Cole…"
Cole was ready to leave when her hand came to rest against her throat. He stopped, then, regarding her uncertainly. The Cirronian watched, fascinated as Mel's hand brushed her throat, her fingers moving restlessly. He had never seen a Cirronian woman doing anything even remotely similar. No Cirronian woman would have to. That was what Cirronian men were for. Of course, Mel was not Cirronian, but she did have a sensitive throat, and she loved it when he touched her there, caressing the silky skin for a moment or two. No other touch he had ever bestowed on her had come even close to affecting her the way that one did. And now she was doing it to herself as she slept, speaking his name exactly as he had always wanted to hear it from her lips…
"Yes, Cole! Oh, God…" She giggled faintly in her sleep. "Where did you learn to do that?" she laughed. "Ooh… Mmm… Cole!"
Groaning a quiet protest, Cole rose and fled to the sanctuary of the bathroom, locking himself inside. Even through the door, he could still hear Mel giving voice to her dreams of him, until he turned on the shower, drowning out the sound of her voice. A shower was definitely called for right now. He loved hot showers, but in recent weeks, as his attraction to Mel became more and more insistent, he had come to understand the value of the cold kind as well.
Very cold tonight, he decided. That dance, Mel's subsequent behavior, bearing witness to Mel's dream… He was still buzzing from the adrenaline rush of the first, still trying to make sense of the second. And, now, climbing into an ice-cold shower in spite of the fact that it was physically painful for him, he tried desperately to forget the third.