Accidentally...Over?(29)

Before she could act on those impulses, she found herself standing, being tugged toward the bathroom.

"They've included every comfort known to womankind: a sauna, jet tub, and champagne bar."

She leaned inside the doorway. Her entire previous beach house could fit inside. "It's incredible. Really, but-"

By the hand, Máax tugged Ashli into the hallway. Raised ceilings with  large skylights above and white tile flooring beneath illuminated every  corner with bright, cheery sunlight. Máax dragged her through the rest  of the new home complete with six guest rooms, five more baths, a study,  one giant living room, and a gourmet chef's kitchen.

How had he planned all this?

"And then there is this … " Máax opened the double doors to her new beachside patio.

What the … ? She felt like she'd won the grand prize on a game show. And  look! It's your newww open fire pit and stainless steel outdoor kitchen,  Ashli! But wait! There's more! That's right. It'ssss hand-carved  furniture! Wild applause.                       
       
           



       

"Máax. This is all too much." He'd gone overboard, turning her sweet,  charming tropical bungalow into a multimillion-dollar mansion. Not that  she wasn't grateful, because she was, but it was all too strange.

"Nothing is too much for you." Máax pulled her into his body. His  electrifying hands cupped the back of her head. "I want you to be happy  here."

"I didn't come here," she whispered, "for a house. I came because I wanted to live." And, maybe, to be with you.

"And live, you shall. For a very, very long time-forever, if I can help it."

Her brain tripped and stumbled. "What did you mean by that?"

"Why don't you let me finish showing you the house?" he suggested.

"Máax? What is going-"

Whoa. She suddenly remembered Máax throwing her into that pool of dark  green water in the middle of the jungle. "Wait! What happened at the  cenote?"

The sound of Máax scratching his thick beard perked up her ears. Why was he thinking so hard about his answer?

"Let us go inside," he finally said.

She swiped for his hand or arm or some piece of him but missed. "No. Tell me now."

Máax was silent. Was he still there?

"Máax?" She waited for several moments.

"Yes," he answered. "I am here."

"What's going on?" Why did she have a bad feeling?

A gust of wind blew her hair over her face. She pushed it back and  caught a glimpse of the ocean. Her ocean. At least that hadn't changed.  She'd give anything for a swim right now to calm her nerves.

"It is simple," Máax said coldly. "I took you to my realm and filled you  with our light. You are immortal now. This is why your eyes are now  turquoise. Like mine."

They are? "What? Sorry?" Did he just say immortal?

Máax grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart. "I am truly sorry for not telling you, but-"

"Sorry? You're …  sorry? You can't just do that kind of crap without telling a person, Máax."

"Ahhh," he argued, "but I can. I am a god, and by definition, that is  our right. We meddle. We make decisions. We use the powers and gifts  bestowed upon us by the Universe and Creator to keep humans safe."

He couldn't possibly be serious. Could he? "Okay. But this is my life! You had no right to-"

"Are you saying you are displeased that you will live?" he asked smugly.

She closed her mouth. That wasn't the problem. Not even close!

"Because," he added, "I know you merely pretended to be comfortable with  the notion of death, but I saw the truth. You came here because you  wanted to survive. I merely took things a step further and granted you  immortality." He paused, giving her a moment to process.

True. She did want to live. He'd given her a glorious glimpse of what  life could be like when filled with passion for a man who was so  incredible, so powerful and sexy that he made her knees wobble. And he  could never die. Ever. He'd never grow old or sick. He would never leave  her. That was, if she decided to stay with him, which, at this very  moment, was not sounding like a ticket to Happy Ever After Land. How  could he make her immortal and not discuss it with her? How?

"So you see," Máax continued, "you made the choice, I simply gave you  what you wanted." He said proudly, "And I fixed your tooth."

Conceited, smug, sonofabi-

"I also gave myself something I wanted-well, needed, actually: you." He added, "And your safety as well."

Her fury wavered for a moment but rebounded quickly. It was one thing to  want to save her, but treating her like she was …  she was …  not his  equal. Uh-uh.

"I'm going for a walk." She turned toward the beach. "And you better not follow me."

"You should not be alone," he argued.

Really? Really? "You know, for a deity, you're not very smart." She  threw out her arms. "I'm immortal now, remember? I don't need your  protection anymore."                       
       
           



       

She didn't need anyone. Never had. Because she was a survivor. Uh-huh. That's right.

Ashli stomped down the beach, anger spouting from her ears. So much had  happened so fast that she couldn't quite make it all feel real inside  her head. Okay, the anger felt real. Sort of like a wasp break-dancing  in her frontal lobe. The hollowness felt real, too. She'd left her home,  her café, her life.

Well, you didn't really have much of a life, now did you?

Maybe not, but it was her life. And she'd left it all because Máax had  convinced her that the future would be a safe place. Then why did she  feel more in jeopardy than ever?

Because Máax deceived you. How was that possible? Wasn't he supposed to be the God of Truth?

He made you immortal without telling you, which isn't the same as lying.

Loophole! It's a loophole, and no excuse for not asking you. Stupid god!

As Ashli marched down the shore, the sound of the crashing jewel-colored  waves soothing her temper, something caught her eyes. Or should she say  a whole lot of somethings?

"Wow." Ashli pivoted on her heel and took in the scenery. Several new  eco-resorts, tons of swimmers, enormous houses-the place looked so  different. So many more people now. Where had her quaint little Mexican  beach town gone?

Her heart sank as one more cherished object simply evaporated into the past, nothing but a memory.

And what the hell is that? Ashli said to herself with disgust, her gaze  zeroing in on a foul, two-story structure that looked like Chuck E.  Cheese's and Tarzan went out for a wild night of tequila shots and ended  up having an illegitimate architectural love child. It was horrendous.  Giant plastic palm trees with flashing lights, gaudy jungle murals, and  bright red umbrellas with a cartoon drawing of a topless male monkey  bearing a six-pack and drinking a cappuccino assaulted her eyes. The  cheesiness made her monkey-nauseous. And it was in the exact same spot  her café used to be!

No. No. Noooo …  Monkeyccino's? Wh-wha-what? Where had Cielito Lindo's gone?

Despite the urge to monkey-hurl, she couldn't prevent her feet from  guiding her body straight for the doors. When she stepped inside, a  burst of cool air hit her face, as did the obnoxious decorum, which was  equally as "cheesified" as the outside with stuffed monkeys and fake  plants hanging from the ceiling, a rope with a swinging Tarzan manikin,  and an indoor waterfall. But what shocked her most, besides the place  being three times as big as her café had been, were the waiters. Topless  Ricky Martin look-alikes with oodles of bulging muscles and ripped abs,  wearing surfer shorts, bow ties, and little monkey ears, served coffee  to a mass of hungry, giggling women. Holymotherofmalemonkeystrippers!  What had they done to her café?

The place was packed with tourists, mostly females, sitting around sipping frothy milk shakes.

Ashli glanced at the wall-sized menu above the registers. One hundred  and fifty pesos? Christ, did the drinks come with a free lap dance and a  gold bracelet? That was outrageous!

Was this Fernando's doing? And where was he?

Calm down. Maybe the place was sold. But wouldn't Máax have told her? Yeah, like he told you about your trip to deityville?

Ashli strolled past the short line and placed her hands on the counter  next to the register. "Disculpe, señor. Se encuentra Fernando?"

The young man with short brown hair-yes, yes, topless and bulging  everywhere-wearing a red Monkeyccino's visor stared with a dopey grin,  ogling her. "Hi. How are you today, miss?" he said in English. Guess it  made sense that employees of a strip café called Monkeyccino's would  speak "American."