Holding The Cards by Joey W. Hill Page B

couple credits in alternative healing, and had enjoyed exploring the more tactile healing practices, such as massage. She began to work it with gentle pressure, imagining it loosening and easing out, and let the work of her fingers be guided by that image.
    Marcus sat down on the carpet so he could stretch his legs out under the coffee table and prop his back against the sofa. He was shuffling a deck of cards, and, as Lauren watched, he spread them out on the glass-topped table in a circular fan around the candles grouped in the center, which were wafting light vanilla fragrance through the room. Celtic harpstrings played their magic on the CD player, the notes combining with the effect of the candles to create a magical atmosphere, capable through the ages of Page 27

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    lowering a woman's defenses.
    Josh's back had been tattooed as well, but at the moment her attention was drawn to the unmarked area, the skin brown and stretched smoothly over muscle and bone. He was lean, the sign of someone whose body had been sculpted by labor, not a gym. She could well imagine what it would be like to knead and stroke not just that shoulder, but the ridges of the spine, the curve of the lower back, and rest her palms on his waist.
    His skin felt warm beneath her touch and she recalled the slight sweatiness of his palm. Nervous, Marcus had said. Did girls make Josh nervous? A smile curved her lips at the thought. He hadn't seemed nervous in the tree. Maybe he only got nervous when he wasn't holding the cards, so to speak.
    Like Jonathan? The unexpected thought erased her smile. No, she decided. Not like Jonathan. In a way, though he had submitted to her, he had held the cards all along. She had wanted love, and he had used her belief in that to almost destroy her. It was only when she realized love was not what drove him, and, more importantly, that she could not change that, that she had been able to break free. Of him, at least.
    The memories he had inflicted upon her were like a Bible imprinted on her soul that she kept searching to find an interpretation that would make sense to her. Well, at the moment, she wasn't in church.
    "Do you like cards, Lauren?" Marcus asked. She felt Josh stiffen beneath her touch, but did not break her rhythm, soothing his shoulders down again.
    "You should say no," Josh warned.
    She had her own demons to fight, far larger and more wicked than any mischief Marcus could devise.
    She gave Josh a reassuring squeeze and cocked a curious brow at Marcus.
    He laced his fingers on the table top, and fixed his gaze on them both. There was no trace of mischief left now, just a meditative thoughtfulness. As the silence drew out, it seemed to draw Lauren in, surround her along with the haunting percussion music in the dreamlike candlelit atmosphere. She could hear the soft roar of the distant beach, filtering through the cracked sliding glass door.
    Oh, yes, Marcus had set a stage. She recognized it, but she enjoyed a man who would expend some effort arranging a seduction scene. For there was no doubt about it, Marcus intended to seduce. But seduce them into what?
    So often, with Jonathan, she had been uncomfortable, stressed by the constant struggle to figure him out.
    Here she was warm, enjoying the feel of a man beneath her fingertips, the sense of mysterious anticipation emanating off of Marcus, and the magical quality of her surroundings, a secluded home on a private island, two beautiful men in attendance…
    Marcus was waiting, and she realized her inviting expression was not enough. While he would press limits with what Josh desired, he wanted her permission to continue on his course, and he wanted it verbalized.
    "I like cards," she said.
    Marcus smiled then, an easy, open gesture. "I thought you might." He settled his hands on either side of the cards, and his gaze shifted to Josh, though he spoke to them both.
    "What would it be