King Solomon's Journey (The Dominguez Adventures) (12 page)

            Now, he felt guilty, knowing they were screwed-up men who screwed-up with women. This instant, he was an Official Club Member, rolling his eyes with disgust. He was the lowest of the low. At least they’d slept with the women they pissed off. Hell, he was nowhere near that far.

            Contemplating how long to stay gone, it didn’t take a genius to realize she wasn’t coming to find him.

            Suddenly, he jumped to his feet, and bolted through the lodge door with new determination, realizing that a woman this passionate and angry wants a battle. Yes, this is worth a fight to someone with her passion. Her eyes, the auburn red fiery hair, they were all virtual tattoos on her. Well, I am a Cause-Fighter.

            The relationship concept was new to him. He was sluggish, maybe even moved too slowly for her tastes, but eventually he got it.

            Now he wanted to fight. Wanting to earlier when she went nuts, his intellect gave way to his assumptions. He was soft. Hell, she probably thought he was impotent. Why not? Every employee at this resort would think so by dinnertime. Standing back as an apathetic little pussycat was the last thing she needed from him.

            His feet pounded the sidewalk with a renewed strength. Concerned, he thought he would need a therapist to help him handle dating this witchy woman.

            Antonio took a massive breath as he silently slid the key card through the lock, then, burst into the cabin. Noticing her laptop was gone from the table, panic swept over him.

            She left...Damn her…without a fight. He realized she tried, earlier. For five hours, he sat and rubbed his head, waiting in distress. Now, he planned to throw his stuff back into the car, and chase her ass again. That was all he knew to do.

            He threw open the bedroom door to pack his bags. Shocked, he yelled. “Damn!”

            There she sat. Cross-legged, yoga-style on his bed, pounding away on her laptop was the witchy woman.

            “I thought you decided to go skiing.”

            He would’ve preferred she slapped him. ‘Gone skiing...’  He thought of a response. Maybe - No, I was down in the lodge whittling down the size of my dick to entertain the staff, while simultaneously getting myself all jacked-up on coffee. I could pass for a meth addict OR jumpstart a car while inducing cardiac arrest at any moment!

            She appeared placid, calm, focused on something. It sure as hell wasn’t him. Perhaps she’s the schizoid. Well, five hours later, he had plenty of time to calm down, unless of course - he was the schizoid. His thoughts flew with caffeinated wings. He attempted calm.

            “No, I was just looking around.”

            She raised her head. “Did you go to the lounge? You seem...”

            He cut her off. She had him furious now.

            “I seem what, Amanda? Do I seem like I’m all jacked-up on caffeine? Because I am. The whole, damn resort is under the impression that some woman has whipped my ass. They think I’m a weirdo puss, and probably even think I’m impotent. I walk in here and you’re as calm as a Buddhist monk. Forgive me if I’m just slightly miffed.”  

            She laughed uncontrollably. He looked at her in dismay.

            “Did you cast some witchy spell on me, or am I just laughable?”

            She laughed harder. The nerve of her sitting there, laughing at him.

            “Amanda, you threw a tantrum from hell. I haven’t seen a fit like that since I lived at home and pissed off my older sister. I was upset. How’s that funny? You think I’m joking about the staff!” He rubbed his head, pacing. Still, she found it amusing.

            “Get over it. If you want proof, call my son Josh, he will tell you. When I get nervous, mad, or excited, I talk, I lecture. My mouth could flap for hours. I close myself in a room in order to shut my own mouth, before I make other people crazy.”

            “You’ve made me crazy anyway.”

            She laughed. “Do you want some more coffee?”

            He looked possessed. “I thought you were kind, sweet, loving, you know - precious.” Amanda choked.

            “I thought anthropologists took a lot more psychology. I am not at all sweet. I can love deeply, but I also get deeply angry, Doctor. You are about to get me there again.”

            He left her in the bedroom. Pacing, he rubbed his head his heart palpitating. Damn, the cabin was hot. She would kill him dead in a day.

            She stomped into the room. “I am not, unreasonable. When a guy says, ‘Amanda, you do not know me, but we need to save the earth and all of Humanity,’ just what sort of reaction did you think I was going to have? Sure I got a little bit excited, and that leads you into believing I am the Devil Woman?

            Well, who is unreasonable and unfair? Go ahead, blame me, it might make your dick shrink some more. Better yet, maybe it will get bigger, Pinocchio Syndrome. Every time you make me seem unreasonable, your dick grows an inch.

            Gee, while you were down at the lodge, having a little pity party and making me out to be insane, did you tell them how you wanted me to help you save the human race? Did you tell them that is the reason I got upset?

            No, you sat there, holding your dick, as if I was trying to castrate you.” She zapped back up the stairs this time to her own bedroom, and slammed the door.

            How could she make him sound so bad? He would understand if she’d done this to anybody else. He would’ve thought it was reasonable. Nevertheless, it was he, and all the focus on his manhood was getting old, quick. If it didn’t stop soon, he would need medication AND therapy.

            Stomping upstairs and over to her bedroom door, Antonio grabbed the knob as hard as possible. Wanting to drive her nuts until she unlocked it, he had both hands on it, squeezing with all his strength. He gave it a turn, and added a giant tug to get her attention.

            The door flew open, and knocked him backwards onto his back, head onto the floor. Hitting the back of his head with the breath knocked out of him, he was now a prime example of male ludicrous behavior.

            Amanda threw her hand up, and covered her mouth. She let out a gasp as she hopped off the bed in a flash. Kneeling over his head, and breathing with her face in his, she was ready to perform a quick neurological check. He laid there motionless.

            “Antonio, are you conscious? Can you see me? Antonio, I am so sorry. Talk to me.”

            Grasping her behind the neck, Antonio brought her all the way down to him. He kissed her for the first time, his kiss passionate.

            Taking hold of her, his arms pulled her onto the floor beside him. His embrace became strong, as passion replaced his anger. As he felt her hesitant response, he gentled the kiss and pulled her lower lip into his mouth. A faint moan encouraged him to delve deeper, when suddenly she was pulling away. Never wanting her to feel forced, he freed her from his embrace, and opened his eyes to watch her face as she sat up on her heels, her face was pale, and her lips were trembling; Damn, he had scared her!

            Amanda pushed her fingertips against her lips trying to stop the pulsing sensation of arousal she felt deep within. Taking a shaky breath, she looked down at Antonio, his glazed eyes were hooded beneath a lowered brow, and he was breathing fast. Trying to lighten the moment she said, "I guess that means you are not unconscious?"

            "Whew, well I think I need to step back from this for a moment. I will be downstairs for awhile." She stood and walked away, and was afraid that she was losing her ability to fight the attraction she felt, and she was losing it fast. She scolded herself as she descended the stairs. "Amanda Messenger, you are not some hormonal teenager on a first date. You are a Mother, a woman with way too many issues in her own life to add one more. Haven't you learned anything over the past years, commitment is not something you are free to oblige in."

            Antonio lay on the floor, propped up on his elbows listening to Amanda berate herself going down the stairs. He felt like seven kinds of a fool. He, who never forced a woman in his life, had grabbed Amanda as if she were the prize, his for the taking. Obviously she had undergone some traumatic experience with a man, and he needed to get a grip, and from now on…keep his distance, unless invited to move closer.

            As he levered his tall frame off the floor, he regretted his actions totally, after all the progress they had made the night before, with her taking his hand and sitting close to him. How hard that must have been for her to show that level of trust, and he had just thrown it back in her face.

            Antonio sighed, it was only noon, and he was headed for his second cold shower of the day. Antonio vowed to keep it light and playful for years if that is what it takes for her to fully accept his touch.

Chapter 12

“I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage, or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.”
— Anaïs Nin

            Antonio heard a knock on the door from his bedroom, and suddenly remembered his surprise! "I'll get it he yelled", and rushed to the door. Antonio answered, and signed for a pair of boxes. Amanda glanced from the sofa as he blocked her view.

            “Just give me a minute.”

            Smiling, he carried the boxes into the kitchen for opening and inspecting. Taking the items out of the box, he removed the price tags, and bundled the contents in his arms.  Taking a deep breath, he hoped this would be enough to distract her from what happened earlier. Putting on his 'poker face', he planned on charming Amanda into having a bit of fun and relaxing.

            He paused in front of Amanda, and dropped the items in her lap. Her shocked response was perfect! “Not one damn word, Amanda. Go put this on. You’re way too old to not know how to ski. Don’t say one word.”

            She looked at him, and slowly shook her head as her eyebrows rose and furled.

            “Amanda, I said don’t say one word. You’re not so precious that you’re unable to try. Put this stuff on, pronto.”

            She crossed her arms, in a gesture that dared him. The message said, Make me asshole.

            “Amanda, you’re at a ski resort, people ski at ski resorts. The slopes are beautiful. Come, I want to show you.”

            She didn’t budge.

            “Well, I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d be afraid of the slopes.”

            It made her mad, but not mad enough.

            “Come on. I want to show you. Come with me, don’t ski, I won’t ski. Let me take you to the slopes, Amanda. Do this with me.”

            She glanced to the ground, as if she might contemplate his request. He had to try.

            “Please, I need to share something with you, something fun and free.”

            Shit. He realized that didn’t come out right, her face changed.

            “Amanda what I did was wrong, and this is my poor attempt at apologizing.” He kneeled before her with his hands on her thighs. Their eyes met.

            “Talk to me. Try not to yell, and just talk to me.”

            She sighed dramatically. “Antonio, I am a clumsy person, and I do not want a broken leg today.”

            He found it hard to believe she was clumsy.

            “Amanda, it’s breathtaking up there. I don’t give a damn if you don’t want to ski. Let me do this for you. Let me share it with you. You make me want to share so many things.”

            “If I end up in some hospital, you will have to explain it to my kids. They will not be happy with you.” She grinned.

            “I’ll handle your kids. Do they pack?”

            “What - guns?”

            “Yeah, I thought I’d ask, doesn’t everybody pack heat in the Midwest?”

            She rolled her eyes. “No, and guess what - my kids are civilized, even educated.”

            He laughed. “You won’t visit the ER, not today.”

            “How do you know this will fit?”

            “I took your clothes, shoes, my phone, and I called the guy at the ski shop. I drove him nuts trying to describe your sizes.”

            She shook her head. “I will put this bottom layer on. I think I am capable of handling that. I’ll be back for your help with the stuff I can’t handle.”

            Antonio left, elated. She’d love the view. At the very least, he could roll her in the snow. He needed to burn some major energy. Jacked-up on coffee, missing his morning run, trying to figure out how to save the world, needing her, wanting her, all of it was starting to kill him.

            He slid his ski pants over his jeans, and removed his shirt. Then, Amanda returned and stole his attention. The tight, elastic Under Armor granted a vivid image of her body. Weak, he felt a cold stream of steam slide down his back. No more coffee.

            “Antonio, I cannot believe you did this. You spent a bundle.”

            His warm glance towards her immediately sent her into a daze. She noticed, without his shirt he was a living version of Michelangelo’s King David. She wanted to sculpt him.

            Distracted by how she looked at him, he watched her approach, entranced. His body heat rose, and really started to perspire now. There he stood, frozen in steam, as he watched the Temptress get nearer, and nearer.

            She came all the way in, right next to him. The distant look in her eye made him wonder what was wrong with her. Then she glanced up, looking directly into him with an innocent look in her eyes.

            Antonio almost lost it as she touched him with one finger, and traced his chest. She was an artist lost in a trance. He struggled to breathe, grappling to maintain composure. Her eyes remained focused as her delicate finger sketched him, following every natural line and indentation down to his waistline.