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He pulled out the deck of cards that had started their adventure. The deck had been divided in half and each portion tied charmingly with sprigs of forest greenery and gold satin ribbon, probably stolen from one of the corsets from the costume room. One of the fragrant white blooms that grew wild on the island was woven into each sprig.
Marcus took their hands, pressed the cards into their respective palms, and held them there, linking the three of them in a circle.
"I will be interested to see who is holding the cards next time we meet," he said quietly, looking between them. "But I suspect we all know that when it's done right, you don't keep score. " He flashed a wicked grin. "It wouldn't be half as much fun otherwise, no pun intended. "
Josh lifted a brow. "I don't know if I should be touched by your sentiment, or figure you're saying I'm dealing with half a deck. "
"No more than the rest of us, dear boy," Marcus chuckled and laid a hand alongside his neck, squeezing.
"That's why you have to find the one with the other half. Maybe you have. I surely hope so. " He smiled at them, then released Josh and embraced Lauren, pulling her close again. Lauren held him hard to her heart for a moment, overwhelmed by her emotions, and by what he murmured in her ear. However, being Marcus, he refused to leave her with tears.
She was chuckling as he pulled away. Marcus shouldered his carry on, and headed down the beach toward the waiting dingy.
"What did he say?" Josh asked, taking her hand.
Lauren linked her fingers with his. "He said he anticipated getting some lucrative creations from his favorite artist very soon. "
Josh shook his head, turned, and lifted his hand in response to Marcus's wave before the art dealer stepped into the boat. "Mercenary bastard," he said affectionately. "So what else did he say, before that?"
Lauren looked down at their entangled fingers, then up at him. "He said not to let you hide here all the time, to make Isabel share you with the world a bit. "
"And what did you say?" His neutral expression guarded his feelings, giving her the freedom to say her mind. That shuttering told her all she needed to know. Warmth bloomed inside of her.
"I said I wouldn't leave without you, however long it took. "
"You need to be a doctor, Lauren," he said after a moment. "You have a gift for healing. "
She nodded. "I might at that. There's a clinic on the main island. It needs a doctor more than a wealthy clinic in Atlanta. Lisette has tried to talk me into working there before. I can practice there for awhile, until you and Isabel decide you want to be somewhere else. Is that what you want?"
He looked away, but she caught his chin, brought his face back to her.
"Don't look away when I'm speaking to you. Tell me what you want, and be truthful. Or I'll know. " She put enough edge in her voice to get a responsive flash in his eyes, a visible flush of heat on his body, but in her eyes there was something softer, warmer, and it was that he answered.
"I want you. I want to be with you. " He reached out, drew her to him, slid his hands up the soft skin of her arms. "I'd like to get to know you better, learn everything about you, make you happy, take care of you. I'd rather," he swallowed. "I don't mind being with other people, but. . . physically, I'd prefer not to share you. "
"I've always been a monogamous type of girl," she responded, her voice thick with emotion at his shy vulnerability, the hope in his voice. It told her they still had a ways to go to heal all the pain Winona had inflicted, but they had taken the most important step. She arched a brow at him, letting him see the healthy humor in her gaze.
"A possessive submissive?" she teased. She laughed when he made a fierce face and gathered her firmly in his arms, underscoring his point. "Well, I don't know. You'd have to work really hard at pleasing me. "
"Yes, Mistress," he murmured, nuzzling her neck, his tongue teasing her skin so her muscles became loose and flowing like the cool waters rushing over their bare feet. Her hand gripped his shoulder and she lifted her head, raised her palm to his face, traced the cheekbones, the sensual lips.
"All those things you said," she murmured. "I want to be the same, do the same, for you. Give you inspiration. "
"You're already doing that," he bit her neck and she shivered.
"Then let's go to your house and see if we can help you finish some of the things you've started. "
"It's a sad place. "
"We'll fix it. Do you want me?"
He looked down at her, the wild reckless passion of the artist in his eyes, daring her to tame him, begging her to try. It almost made her smile.
He molded his palms to her hips with the care and reverence he would clay, his fingers grazing her bare hipbones where the shorts and top parted. He slid his hands back, let the thumbs meet, and cupped her buttocks, pushing her into him, against his hard arousal.
He bent his head, pausing just a whisper above her ear, breathing upon it.
"More than air. "
