Devil in Paradise Page 2

  But Samantha lived behind guarded gates. To even enter her office building required an appointment. Sure, he could have slipped past security, but that wouldn’t have gained him quality time with her.

  So Ari had been forced to make extensive plans in order for them to spend time together. And he would make the best of the opportunity. “Would you like to know how I made myself look like Ian?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you remember high school biology class?” he asked, knowing he needed to explain before he showed her exactly who and what he was.

  She frowned. “You learned how to make yourself look like my pilot in high school biology class?”

  He laughed. “Not exactly. But do you recall how after a worm is cut in half, the head can grow a tail and the tail will grow a head?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid I was never any good at science.”

  “Well, take my word for it. It happens all the time. And I use the same principle to change my shape.”

  “Change your shape? Uh-huh.” She remained polite, but skepticism shined in her eyes.

  “Now, don’t freak out. I’m going to show you by growing another finger. Okay?”

  She swallowed hard. “Sure. Go right ahead.”

  He could tell that, although she’d listened intently, she didn’t believe him. Slowly, he lifted his hand and with a mental thought, he grew a second pinky.

  “Oh . . . my God.” Samantha’s eyes widened, but she leaned forward in fascination, staring at his sixth finger. “Can I touch it?”

  “Yes.”

  She poked his pinky and then massaged it between her thumb and index finger. Her touch didn’t shoot an electric tingle through him as he’d hoped—however her touch was pleasant enough to urge him to reach out and place her hand in his. But he remained still, forcing himself to let her proceed at her own pace. She might not have enjoyed science classes, but she took her time, thoroughly examining the newly grown finger.

  Her voice rose in surprise. “It’s genuine flesh and there’s a bone in there—just like a real finger. Are you a magician?”

  “Nope.”

  “You dropped down to Earth in a UFO?” she guessed.

  “Wrong again.”

  “So you’re a lower life-form?”

  He shook his head and held back a sigh. The conversation wasn’t going as he’d planned. “Have you ever heard of Atlantis?”

  “The legendary ancient island that sank beneath the Mediterranean Sea? Of course I’ve heard of it. My interest in history is a bit better than biology. Why?” She picked up her coffee. For a moment he feared she might throw it on him, but she remained too controlled for that. Instead, she took another sip, giving away nothing on a face once again composed.

  He was pleased she had a good brain. That she hadn’t run from him screaming. It was a start. And he couldn’t help thinking that it was no wonder she’d achieved such success in the business world. He’d just showed her something she considered impossible and already she was adapting.

  He leaned back into his seat. “My ancestors were born on Atlantis. They had special abilities that others did not.”

  “What kind of special abilities?”

  “Our people have different talents. Some specialize in telekinesis, telepathy, empathy, and shapeshifting.”

  “Go on.”

  “Thousands of years ago, our special abilities weren’t understood by the masses, and their distrust led to fear, persecution, and jealousy. So we sank the island and disappeared to make a new home in the South Atlantic. We named it New Atlantis, and that is where I call home.”

  He missed his house on the beach. The Caribbean breezes cooling him, the lapping waves soothing him, the palms rustling outside his windows—and a force shield protecting them all from hurricanes and the prying eyes of outsiders. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to live in a noisy, crowded city and was certain he could convince her of the advantages of moving into his home. But he was thinking ahead of himself. Right now, it didn’t appear as if she even liked him.

  She looked him straight in the eyes, her stare challenging. “I’ve never heard of New Atlantis.”

  “That’s because it’s hidden and very private.” He couldn’t wait to show off his home. While he couldn’t offer her the high-rise skyscraper’s view of one of the premier cities in the world, there was a serenity on New Atlantis that could be found nowhere else on Earth.

  “How do you hide your island?”

  “Remember the special abilities that I told you that my ancestors possessed?”

  She eyed his second pinky. “Yes.”

  “We all use our abilities to keep a shield between the rest of the world and New Atlantis. Radar, sonar, photographs, satellites, spacecraft, and ships cannot see our island. To your scientific instruments, New Atlantis appears to be ocean.

  “You’re good at storytelling. You ought to write a book.”

  “If I did, then New Atlantis would no longer be a secret. My people have no wish to be studied or kidnapped and used for ill gain.”

  She raised her eyes to his and then lowered them again to his hand. Her eyes sparkled with wary curiosity. “I don’t understand.”

  He made the pinky disappear. “I’m changing to my real face.”

  Ian’s face morphed before her eyes. To her, Ian was there one moment, the next, a stranger appeared in his place. And while Ian had been an attractive man, Ari possessed the chiseled cheekbones of his Greek ancestors, a haughty brow, and a longish aristocratic nose. Never would Ari be mistaken for pretty.

  Her eyes widened. “That’s amazing.”

  “I didn’t change the rest of me, because my normal shape won’t fit in these clothes.”

  “You can make yourself into any size? You can look like anyone?”

  He nodded. “Down to fingerprints and retinal scans.”

  “I can see why you wouldn’t want the world to know. My God . . . you could make yourself the president of the United States, infiltrate any bank, corporation, or country. You could be the ultimate spy.”

  “You’re beginning to understand.”

  “I don’t understand anything.” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Maybe you put a hallucinogen in my coffee.”

  “I didn’t. And I drank the coffee from the same thermos,” he reminded her.

  “Maybe you’re an alien from Mars.”

  “Isn’t it easier to believe I’m from this world? Besides, why would I lie?”

  She frowned at him. “Maybe you’re the Devil.”

  “Because you like me?”

  “I don’t know you well enough to like you,” she snapped.

  He laughed. “Come on, Samantha. You liked me well enough when you thought I was Ian.”

  “I know Ian.”

  Damn, she could be stubborn. But she’d been interested in him—Ari. He’d seen it in the way her mouth had relaxed into a pleased little smile when he’d invited her into the cockpit, the way her eyes had returned his interest, the way she’d given him that thorough once-over when she’d thought he hadn’t been looking.

  “And you’re going to get to know me. I’m not a bad guy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Can you land this plane?”

  “Of course. I went to the trouble of learning to fly so we could meet.” He gestured to the instrument panel. “I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of operating every one of these—”

  “Good.” Her fingers drummed on her armrest. “If you intend to keep New Atlantis a secret, why are you telling me about it?”

  “Even if you wanted to tell others, who would believe you?”

  “Exactly.” She arched an eyebrow. “So why should I believe you?”

  “You’ve seen me shapeshift. And you�
��ve heard the legends about Atlantis.”

  “You’ve made your point, but I’ve also read about Greek gods, and I didn’t expect to meet one of them.” She leaned back in her seat, stared out the window, and her tone softened. “And you dreamed about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “By name?”

  “Yes.”

  “And suppose I say no?”

  “You’re going to become one of us. Because you’re my soul mate.”

  If looks could kill, he would have frozen to death from her icy stare. So much for his reputation for charm with the ladies. This was one stubborn woman, but her resistance made her interesting.

  “What do you mean I’m going to become one of you?”

  “The shield that protects New Atlantis from your world is weakening. We need fresh minds. New blood. So occasionally we go into the world to find those who can help us maintain the shield.”

  She shook her head. “I assure you, I don’t have any special abilities—unless you count business acumen.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Down to earth, practical and logical, she wanted to know every detail, and he would explain as best he could. “I wouldn’t have dreamed about you unless you possessed the genetic sequencing that allows you to shapeshift.”

  “Me?” She shook her head and snorted. “You place a lot of stock in dreams.”

  She was so intense, so cool and collected, and he had always longed for a mate with warmth and fun in her soul. “We trust our dreams because they are always accurate.”

  “So now what?” she asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “What are your plans? You’ve told me your secret. I’ve listened. Now what?”

  “We need to spend time alone together. So we can bond.”

  At his words, alarm darkened her eyes. Her lips pressed into a firm line. Her hand reached into her purse to retrieve her cell phone.

  He didn’t try to stop her. “Your phone won’t work at this altitude.”

  She frowned at the lack of signal and turned off the battery. “Suppose I don’t want to bond?”

  “Please, try to relax. I mean you no harm.” He took the plane off autopilot and adjusted their heading. Instead of almost due south, he turned southeast toward the south Atlantic Ocean.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To a private island.”

  “New Atlantis?”

  He shook his head. “We need to be alone.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to teach you how to shapeshift.”

  She turned shocked eyes on him. “Me? Shapeshift?”

  “It’s part of your genetic makeup.”

  “Yeah, right. What happens if I don’t learn how?”

  Shapeshifting was difficult to learn. To teach her, he needed to spend a lot of time under conditions that would eventually lead to trust. According to his teachers, the best way for him to earn her trust was for her to believe her life was at risk so she could learn to depend upon him for her own survival.

  She swallowed hard, and the flicker of fear in her eyes sliced his gut.

  Damn it. He didn’t like scaring her. Yet despite the bitter taste in his mouth, he forced himself to say the words. “If you don’t learn to shapeshift, you could die.”

  Her mouth trembled. “I thought you said you meant me no harm?”

  He ached for her. And when she bit her lower lip, no doubt to stop from showing weakness, he yearned to take her into his arms. “Once you adapt to who and what you really are, you’ll be fine.”

  She glanced at the radio as if it could save her life. Knowing he was taking away her lifelines, he flicked it off, removed a fuse, and pocketed it. The dimming hope in her eyes sliced him. “Sorry. No one will be coming to your aid. To shapeshift, you must look to yourself. You must look inward.”

  “Even if I believed that you could teach me to shapeshift, I don’t want to live on New Atlantis. I have a life in New York. I have friends, a business. A sister.”

  Her worries made him want to soothe her. “We do travel into the world. There’s no reason you can’t return to visit.”

  Samantha’s fingers clenched into fists. “You have no right to take me from my life. Change our course back to Miami. I refuse to cooperate.”

  He kept his voice gentle, even as he revealed his deepest fear, a fear that whipped at him while awake and asleep. “If you refuse to cooperate, you will die.”

  Three

  SAMANTHA HAD no intention of dying with him. She ignored his flickers of sympathy. He’d abducted her. And he’d admitted his intention of keeping her. Fear hit every atom in her body. Her thoughts raced, and she strove for calm. When she and her plane vanished in the Bermuda Triangle, the news would make headlines. People would come looking for her. They’d discover her plane had taken off from New York and had never landed in Miami. A satellite would pick up the flight path and surely rescuers would come.

  Ari flew the plane toward an island that possessed little more than a sand landing strip. As they’d approached by air, she’d seen no buildings, no people, no sign of civilization. Worse, she’d spied only limited vegetation on the spit of sand, indicating a lack of water.

  She was going to be alone with him.

  On an island.

  But no damned way was she was going to die. At least without doing everything she could to survive.

  So when the landing gear touched sand, she hurried to the galley, dumped her contracts out of her briefcase and grabbed supplies. While Ari braked the plane, she scooped up water bottles, matches, several lowcarbohydrate Powerbars, placed a life jacket over her head, and then clung to a seat back as the plane skidded and bumped across the sand.

  A glance out the portal told her the landing strip was too short. The plane had slowed considerably, but they weren’t going to stop before plunging into the ocean.

  Hands shaking, feet shifting for balance, Samantha placed the briefcase’s strap over her shoulder and yanked the plane door’s emergency exit handle. The door rolled back with a smooth hiss. Wind whipped her hair, and she breathed in hot, humid air and the tang of the sea. Below her, the ground passed by, but Ari braked, and they slowed down to bicycle speed. She prayed they’d stop before rolling into the sea. Another glance told her they wouldn’t, but, the slow speed made surviving a jump doable, even for her.

  Still, her heart battered her ribs in fear. She looked ahead one more time. The plane was clearly about to dive into the water. Oh God. If she didn’t want to drown, she had to jump.

  Fear racing up her throat, she forced her quivering legs to launch her into the air. She dropped with sickening speed, landing hard, toppling, rolling, and skinning a knee and an elbow. She ended up on her back and breathed in a mouthful of sand. She spit out the sand, shoved to her side, and turned to watch her plane taxi into the sea with just enough speed to carry it deep enough to submerge it completely.

  Squinting in the bright sunlight, she pushed to her feet. The bastard had deliberately run her plane into the sea. Had he died in the crash? Drowned?

  Before she could decide whether she should swim to the wreckage and fish him out, his head broke the surface of the calm turquoise water. He swam toward shore, using the steady, powerful strokes of a long-distance swimmer. Damn him. Not only had he ruined her radio, he’d destroyed a thirty million dollar airplane to hide their tracks. Finding her on this isolated spit had just become much more difficult, and she prayed the black box with a GPS locator beacon still worked, even as she tugged her cell phone from her purse and hit the power button.

  No service.

  Damn. Again, she switched off the power.

  Now what?

  She’d seen the island from the air. It wasn’t larger than fifty acres and had few places to hide. All too a
ware Ari would soon catch up with her no matter what she did, she didn’t bother to expend the energy to run.

  She began to perspire in the heat and decided to head for the north shore where she’d seen several palm trees that might offer a bit of shade. Shrugging out of her suit jacket, she placed it over her head to wear as a hood to shield her from the Caribbean sun, worrying that the half dozen water bottles she’d grabbed wouldn’t keep her alive for too many days.

  Ari’s irritating whistling warned of his approach. She’d never heard the tune and resented the cheerful tone.

  She didn’t bother turning to look at him, but kept trudging forward, her eyes straight ahead. “You ruined my airplane.”

  “You don’t need it anymore. You have me.”

  “Right. Since you can teach me to shapeshift, I’ll just grow myself a pair of wings and fly.”

  “You can fly, you know, but it’s an advanced shape and shouldn’t be attempted just yet.”

  She snorted. She supposed she should be grateful that he wasn’t a rapist and didn’t seem violent. However, her anger that he’d forced her into survival mode fed her temper.

  When she turned to glare at Ari, her breath caught in her lungs. Despite her fear, despite her harrowing leap from the plane, desire slammed her. And it wasn’t natural. Now was no time to be bowled over by his awesome face and dynamite body.

  He no longer stood at about five foot ten inches. Now he had to be at least six foot six. And he’d morphed out of his clothes. He’d lost his shirt, and his powerful chest could have graced a romance book cover.

  When Ari had taken Ian’s shape, the tug of attraction had been full-blown. But her response to Ari was over the top. Just looking at him seemed to set her nerve endings on a high simmer, and that she reacted to him at all annoyed her. That she could barely resist staring at the strong cords of bronzed neck muscle and the flat stomach that tapered to boxer shorts, muscular legs, and bare feet rocked her.