by Leslie Kelly
“You mean, you’re a... You’re not a...”
“Right. I’m a. And I’m not a.”
She groaned softly, her green eyes growing bright with moisture. Those shoulders slumped again in pure, visible weariness and her mouth twisted. She didn’t look so much embarrassed as purely humiliated. Dejected.
“I’m so sorry,” she muttered.
She backed up a step, obviously not realizing how close she was to the bed. Her hip banged into the wooden footboard, and she winced, jerking away and suddenly losing her balance. She tumbled to her side, toward the hard tiled floor.
Leo didn’t stop to think. He lunged, diving to catch her as she fell, letting out an oomph as she landed in his arms. Her tall, slender body was pressed against his, fitting perfectly, her head tucked under his chin, her slim waist wrapped in one arm, her shoulders in the other. She didn’t immediately squirm away. Instead, she stared up at him, her eyes round, her mouth rounder.
Their stares locked and he found himself trying to identify just what shade of green those beautiful eyes were. Emerald? Jade? Jungle? Something like all of the above, plus they had a tiny ring of gold near the pupil, looking like a starburst.
She said nothing, just stared at his face. The moment stretched between them, long, heavy and strange. It was as if they were communicating on a deep, elemental level, no words being necessary, saying everything two people who’d just met would usually say. Like they wanted to get the preliminaries out of the way. For what, he didn’t yet know.
“Thank you,” she said, breathing the words across those lush lips.
If this were a movie, his next step would be to kiss her.
If it were a steamy one, the kiss would lead to so much more. He could suddenly see himself touching her, stroking the tip of his finger down the slick column of her throat, into the V of her blouse. Flicking it open, button after button, and pulling the fabric away from her heated skin.
In a moment as long as a single heartbeat, his mind had filled in all the blanks, seeing what it would be like to touch her, make love to her, without ever even learning her name. As if she were a present who’d landed in his arms just because he deserved her.
His body reacted—how could it not react?—but the position wasn’t awkward enough to make it incredibly obvious to her. But maybe she was aware, anyway. A pink flush had risen up her face and her lips had fallen apart so she could draw deep, shaky breaths. He could see the frantic racing of her pulse in her throat, and her body trembled.
Yeah. She knew. And judging by the warm, musky scent of woman that began to fill his every inhalation, he wasn’t the only one affected by the shocking encounter.
There’s one problem. This isn’t a movie.
Right. This was real life, she was a stranger and he, as far as he knew, was a nice guy. The woman was obviously confused, light-headed enough to fall when she moved too quickly. And she didn’t look like the type to have anonymous sex with someone she’d known for five minutes.
Time to end this, he knew. Time to put her on her feet, push her out the door and hope he ran into her again this week when she was steady, healthy and fully in control of her thoughts.
God, did he hope he’d been good enough in his life to be rewarded like that.
“This is a little awkward,” she finally whispered, as if realizing the cloud of lust had begun to lift from his brain and reality was returning.
“Easy for you to say. At least you have some clothes on.”
A tiny gasp escaped her lips. Reflexively, she cast a quick glance down at the floor. He followed the glance, seeing the same pile of white fabric she was seeing.
His towel. He’d dropped it when he’d lunged to catch her.
Yeah. He was naked. Completely naked, aroused at the feel of hot, musky, soft woman in his arms.
A woman who looked on the verge of...
“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled.
Because she was no longer on the verge of anything. The beautiful stranger had fainted.
3
MADISON HAD BEEN HAVING the strangest dream. As she slowly woke up, feeling coolness on her face, she realized she must have drifted off on the plane. The cool air had to be coming from the vent over her seat.
She shifted, but didn’t open her eyes right away, liking the dream a little too much. In it, she’d already arrived at her destination—a tropical resort where she intended to hide out for a week. She’d entered her room, exhausted, sweaty, miserable and nauseous from the long cab ride—necessitated by her landing at the wrong Costa Rican airport. Just another example of how quickly she’d had to get out of the U.S., how desperate she’d been to get away.
Things hadn’t gotten much better on her arrival. The doorman had been arguing with a deliveryman, the guy at the check-in desk barely spoke English and kept suggesting she wait for a woman who was apparently on break. She’d lost patience, demanding her key and dragged her own suitcase through the thickly vegetative grounds.
Arriving in her room, wanting nothing but a cold shower and bed, she’d entered, kicked off her shoes, and had been stunned to behold a naked Adonis standing with his back toward her.
That was how she knew she’d been dreaming. Men that gorgeous, that utterly perfect, didn’t exist outside of dreams and fantasies. Even Tommy, admittedly one of the handsomest men alive, wasn’t built like that.
The man’s hair had been dark, almost black, short, thick and wavy. And his bare body had been a thing of art. Broad shoulders had flexed as he’d leaned in the doorway, as if wanting to soak up the outdoors. His strong back was delineated with muscle that rippled with his every movement. Smooth skin encased a slim waist and hips, and he had an unbelievably perfect butt and long, powerful legs.
He’d turned around to reveal a strong, handsome face, masculine and unforgettable. Broad of brow, with deep-set, heavily-lashed brown eyes, slashing cheekbones, jutting chin with a tiny cleft, and a sexy, half smiling mouth.
Unfortunately, her dream state hadn’t left him completely uncovered in the front. Her brain had inserted a coy white towel. She wanted to dive back into the dream to see it drop. Oh, she hoped she didn’t have to open her eyes before that towel dropped.
But, wait...it had dropped. Hadn’t it? For some reason, she remembered it on the floor. But she couldn’t remember if he’d let it fall as he took her into his arms to passionately kiss her or what. Stupid dream really needed to come back and fill in all the blanks. Or at least most of them. The most interesting ones. She wasn’t going to let herself wake up until it did, not even if they landed and started deboarding the plane.
“Open your eyes.”
She growled in her throat.
“Come on, open up. You’re okay.”
That voice was seriously messing with her good dream vibes. But it was, she had to concede, a nice voice. Deep, sexy, masculine. Was it a flight attendant, rousing her for landing? Or was she still dreaming about Mr. Tall, Dark and Built?
“Come on, sweetheart.” Coolness brushed her temples, soft, featherlight, then her mouth. “Take a sip.”
Moisture kissed her lips. Was her dream guy giving her champagne? She swallowed.
Water. Not champagne.
And that moisture on her temples was sliding down into her hairline.
And...and...this wasn’t a dream.
Her eyes flew open.
Definitely not a dream.
“You,” she breathed.
It had really happened. She’d arrived at the hotel, walked into her room, seen a gorgeous stranger, and, what? Fallen and hit her head or something? What other reason would there be for her to be...where was she?
It took only a second for her to gather her wits. Holy shit, she was lying flat on her back in a bed. And this handsome, bare-chested stranger was sitting right beside her, tenderly pressing a damp facecloth to her forehead, eyeing her with visible concern.
“You’re okay. Take deep breaths. Drink a little more.”
She ob
ediently sipped from the water bottle he placed against her lips, trying to kick her brain back into operation.
“What happened?”
“You fainted.”
“I never faint.” Girlie-girls fainted, and Madison was not a girlie-girl. She’d never been the type who’d wilt like a flower, especially not in front of some man.
Some man who’d apparently picked her up, put her on the bed and taken care of her.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
She frowned, still having a hard time believing it.
“Why would I faint?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Well, that could have something to do with it.”
Yes, it could.
“You don’t look like you’ve slept much lately, either.”
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a full, uninterrupted night’s sleep. “I slept on the plane. Or...maybe that was a dream of a dream. Hell, I don’t know.”
“You looked pretty uncomfortable when you arrived. Sick maybe.”
Sick? Maybe sick at heart. Heaven knew she had reason, considering what her life had been like in recent weeks.
“Do you think you’re going to be okay? Should I have the hotel call an ambulance?”
“Good heavens, no!” That was all she needed. More attention. So much for slinking unnoticed into another country and hiding from the world for a while. “I just... I was really carsick. I guess I flew into the wrong airport and it took hours to get here, with no air-conditioning and tons of twisty roads.” Ugh, when she thought about all those ups, downs and hairpin turns, she felt her stomach roll over.
“You need to eat something.”
It rolled again. But she knew he was right. Something light would probably be good.
She scrunched her brow, trying to recall the last time she’d sat down for a meal, and honestly couldn’t remember. Crackers on the plane probably didn’t count, though she’d give her right arm for some right now, if only to settle her churning stomach. Whether it was still churning from the drive here or from the fact that this gorgeous stranger was sitting close beside her on a bed, she had no idea.
“Why don’t I order something from room service?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“You know what they say, save someone’s life and they become your responsibility.”
She rolled her eyes. “Saved my life, huh?”
He smiled and a tiny dimple appeared in one cheek, taking that dish of handsome and adding a big heaping helping of freaking adorable on top.
“If I hadn’t caught you, you would have cracked your head open. That tile’s pretty hard.”
She suddenly thought about everything that had happened before she’d tripped. The awkward conversation when she’d rejected his services. Services he hadn’t even been offering.
The way they’d drawn closer together, even while she’d been saying no, as if some unseen magnetic pull between their bodies was working them into close proximity.
Tripping over her own stupid feet. Falling. Him catching her.
The towel on the floor.
Gasping a little, she immediately looked down, not sure whether to sigh in relief or cry in disappointment that he wasn’t naked. At some point, he’d grabbed a pair of jeans and yanked them on. They weren’t even buttoned, as if he’d been in too much of a hurry to do more than zip. Maybe because he’d been busy lifting her onto the bed, fetching a cold cloth and water to revive her?
She swallowed hard, her mouth dry despite the water she’d been sipping. Because she had a mad impulse to grab the tab of that zipper and pull it down a little more, to see if he’d taken the time to put on anything else before the jeans. She suspected not.
“Well, you definitely seem to be feeling better.”
That deep, husky voice suddenly sounded more amused than solicitous. Madison realized what she’d done—jerking her attention off his face and ogling him like a stripper at ladies night—and gulped. She took a deep breath, then worked up the courage to look up. It was a slow lift of the eyes. She just couldn’t resist focusing on his body, so close, so big and warm and spicy smelling. She had to note the flat stomach rippled with muscle, the broad chest, wiry hair encircling his flat nipples. Those powerful shoulders, corded and thick, and on up the throat to the strong, lightly grizzled jaw.
And the face. Oh, lord, that face.
That smiling face.
“You done?”
She took a deep, even breath.
“I’m a little confused,” she mumbled, lifting a shaking hand to her head.
“Yeah, right.”
Well, damn, so much for her thinking he was a gentleman. He could at least have pretended not to notice she’d been struck dumb by his looks.
Then she remembered the way he’d swooped down to catch her, how he’d put her on the bed and tenderly taken care of her. She conceded he was definitely a gentleman. Just one with a sense of humor. Considering she’d accused him of being a male prostitute, that was a good thing.
“Am I really in your room?”
“I think so,” he said. Then he frowned. “Although, to be honest, I could be in the wrong one. My key didn’t work, so the bellhop let me in. He didn’t speak English very well...maybe we got our wires crossed and he let me into the wrong one.”
“Well, if that’s the case, feel free to stay.”
One brow shot up.
She flushed. “I mean, they can put me in another room. You’ve already settled in.”
“I really don’t mind being the one to move. You look like you need to stay right in this bed until tomorrow.”
Yeah, and she couldn’t deny she wouldn’t mind if he stayed in it with her. Well, she couldn’t deny it to herself, anyway. She’d deny it to her last breath if he accused her of feeling that way.
“Long trip?”
“You have no idea. I’ve been traveling for what seems like days.”
“From where?”
“Hmm, kind of all over,” she said, thinking about the crazy whirlwind her life had become in the past few weeks, ever since she’d become the woman who’d betrayed the beloved Tommy Shane. Whore, slut, bitch, user, taker, Jezebel—some preacher had lobbed that one from a pulpit—those were some of the names that had been launched at her.
So much for thinking she would escape the breakup unscathed. Could she possibly have been more naive? She’d never in a million years imagined that by becoming the bad girl who’d broken the heart of Hollywood’s golden boy, she would be loathed, vilified and reviled all over the freaking country.
She’d had paparazzi follow her wherever she went. People who recognized her from her picture on the cover of every tabloid on the newsstand greeted her with catcalls and jeers. Her life had been ripped to shreds on blogs and Hollywood gossip shows. A woman had even spit on her while she was grocery shopping.
So she’d taken off to northern California. Unfortunately, everyone knew she had a twin sister who lived in Napa, and she hadn’t been hard to find. Poor Candace and Oliver, who liked to live quietly, had come into the limelight, too.
Then it was off to Florida to visit her parents. Same story. She hadn’t stayed there long. It had been way too much to ask for them to play along when they saw how horribly she was being treated. They knew better than anyone that she and Tommy hadn’t had a real engagement, and her father had been dying to defend her. Or at least to punch a few photographers. Heaven forbid she be the cause of his next heart attack!
So distraught over the whole thing that he’d decided to come out, Tommy had planned a press conference. Madison had told him to forget it. What he needed to do was buy her a ticket to somewhere warm. Before long, she was headed for the airport again.
Costa Rica. It should be far enough away for her to regain her sanity. Lord, did she hope so. If this scandal hadn’t blown over by the time she went home, she didn’t know what sh
e would do.
“Hello?”
She realized her mind had drifted. She cleared her throat. “What?”
“Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere I want to return to,” she insisted vehemently.
“You’re on the run, huh?”
“You might say that.” Something prompted her to add, “You, too?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Not a bank robber, are you?” she asked, her tone light and teasing, even though the possibility that he was an ax murderer had flashed across her mind. Of course, if he’d wanted to chop her into kindling, he could easily have done it while she was unconscious. Besides, nobody with eyes as warm and kind as this man’s could ever be the violent sort. He looked and behaved like a real-life hero.
“No. I stick strictly to convenience and liquor stores for my life of crime.”
“Penny ante,” she said with an airy wave of her hand.
“What about you? Are you a secret double agent seducing your way into state secrets?”
She batted her lashes. “You think I could?”
“Honey, I know you could.”
The vehemence in his tone made her smile fade a bit. They were no longer teasing and joking. The attraction between them had been thick from the moment he’d turned around and found her in his room, but they’d been successfully hiding from it. Except, she suddenly remembered, for that long, heated moment when he’d held her in his arms after he’d caught her. She wasn’t a mind reader, but she’d had no difficulty seeing what was going through his head. Probably because the same wild, erotic thoughts had been going through hers.
Sex with a stranger. Nameless, guiltless, hedonistic. Wild and unforgettable and something never to be regretted.
Oh, yes. She’d definitely been thinking those thoughts.
The fact that he had, too, and that he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation, reinforced her hero assessment. She couldn’t think of him as merely a nice guy...that didn’t do justice to this man. She barely knew him, yet she knew he was ever so much more than that.
As if he’d noticed the warm, approving way she was looking at him, he cleared his throat and slid off the bed, standing beside it. “Think you can sit up?”