by Kristi Gold
Bolting from the bed, she stood before him, hands clasped tightly to keep from pulling the band out of his hair to let it completely fall just so she could experience its silky texture. “Okay, so what do you have in mind for lunch?”
The look he gave her said anything but food. His sexy smile had her thinking the same thing. “I’m kind of partial to peanut butter and jelly.”
She returned his smile. “My son’s favorite fare.”
His features went solemn. “You know, Joanna, your son’s welcome here. If you want to send for him, we could fix up one of the bedrooms.”
Joanna experienced a twinge of emotion over his generosity. Few men would offer their homes to a single mom and her child. “I really appreciate that, but he’s settled into school right now and I wouldn’t want to uproot him again until I have a decent place of my own. Maybe that will happen by this summer.”
Rio stood and sighed. “You’ve been here less than an hour and you’re already thinking about leaving me.”
Leaving him? “I can’t stay here forever. But I appreciate this arrangement more than you know. It will give me a chance to get back on my feet financially.” If he didn’t pull the rug out from under her emotionally. Again, she didn’t plan to let that happen. She’d done that once, let a man have her heart only to be left holding the remnants.
“We’ll take it one day at a time,” he said with confidence as he strolled toward the door. “But in the meantime, let’s go downstairs and grab some lunch. I’m starving.”
So was Joanna, for things she didn’t dare want.
Four
“You have a fountain in your pool.”
Rio couldn’t stop the urge to tease Joanna a little. He had trouble stopping any urges where she was concerned. “A pool? No kidding? I didn’t realize that. Guess I should go into the backyard more often.”
Joanna glanced at him over one shoulder and smiled. “You are just full of it today, aren’t you?”
Rio couldn’t seem to get his fill of looking at her. He took the last bite of his sandwich and sat back in his chair, enjoying the view of Joanna staring out the breakfast nook’s window. Her dark hair spiraled into curls between her shoulder blades. Natural curls, Rio suspected. She did things to jeans that shouldn’t be allowed. She did things to him that would definitely be considered downright sinful.
Her slender hand rested against the pane, her nails short and neatly trimmed. Good, Rio thought. Long nails meant hard-to-hide scratches from lovemaking. And why the hell he believed that would happen between him and Joanna Blake would be anyone’s guess. But something told him it could happen. Would happen. The carnal tension between them was gathering force, brewing like a spring storm, not that she would acknowledge it. At least not yet.
Pushing back from the table, Rio joined her at the window, standing close, but not too close. Patience would probably be the best way to handle what was happening between them, had been happening since New Year’s Eve. Patience was something unfamiliar to him. He was the kind of guy who jumped in feetfirst and asked questions later when it came to his private life. Not a good idea in this instance.
Focusing on the backyard where Gabby lay gnawing a rawhide bone beneath an ancient cypress, he said, “There’s a small hot tub in the corner of the pool with room for three.”
“You, Gabby and your current girlfriend?” He heard a smile in her voice, and curiosity.
“Are you trying to get me to come clean about my personal life, Joanna?”
She turned, putting them in closer proximity yet maintaining an intangible distance. “It’s really none of my business, but I imagine you’ve had a woman in your hot tub before.”
He had, but not in a while. “I’ve been too busy to utilize my hot tub. Not today, though. Are you game?”
She frowned. “Are you nuts? It’s forty degrees outside.”
“That’s why they call it a hot tub.”
“It’s also still daylight.”
He propped one hand on the window beside her head, leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Are you shy, Joanna Blake?”
“I’m a mother, for Pete’s sake.”
“And mothers are forbidden to use hot tubs?”
“Mothers don’t have the kind of figures most twenty-year-olds have. At least this mother doesn’t.”
He allowed his gaze to slide down her body and linger in certain places. He wanted to do the same with his hands. “I seriously doubt that.”
“You’re seriously wrong.” A blush stained her fair cheeks. “Besides, I don’t own a decent swimsuit.”
“Who said anything about a swimsuit?”
She turned back to the window. “What’s in that building over there?”
Obviously she was more interested in continuing the tour than his suggestion. “It’s a pool house with an attached garage. I keep my bike in there.”
“Ten speed?”
“Harley.”
Once more she faced him, this time hugging herself as if she needed protection from him. “You own a motorcycle and live in a mansion. I’d say you are a walking contradiction, Doctor.”
He wished she’d call him by his first name. Right now he wasn’t the doctor. Right now he was a man in the company of a woman that he wanted too much. “Is that a problem?”
“Not really. It’s just that you’re not at all what I thought you’d be. At least at first.”
“And what was that?”
“An average male on the make. Your generous nature surprises me. So does your attraction to material things.”
He took a step back, guilt dogging his steps as he made his way back to the table and reclaimed his seat. “I’ve heard it all before, that old ‘the love of money is the root of all evil’ clause. But once you’ve been without it, money’s not a bad thing to have. I imagine you know that.”
“Yes, I do.” Joanna joined him at the table and sat across from him with her blue eyes trained on his face. “I take it you didn’t have much when you were growing up.”
“I had next to nothing. My parents were migrant farmworkers, chasing the next job. After my father died, my mother moved from California to Texas. She worked as a fruit picker during the season and hired out as a domestic the rest of the time.” And a midwife at night, something he didn’t care to discuss.
“What happened to your father?”
Rio didn’t like dredging up the past, but he’d left himself wide open to her questions. “An industrial accident involving some kind of machinery. I don’t know many details.”
“I’m sorry.” She sounded as if she truly was.
“Don’t be. I don’t remember him. I was too young when it happened.”
She rested her cheek on one palm. “So what made you decide to become a doctor?”
A long story, but he’d try for a condensed version. “My mother worked for a retired colonel. He knew I had an interest in medicine, so he took me under his wing since he didn’t have any kids.”
Joanna leaned forward. “Did he put you through medical school?”
That, and hell on earth. “Yeah, but first he put me into boarding school when I turned sixteen. I hated it. They made me cut my hair, robbed me of my heritage so I’d fit in. I’ve worn my hair long ever since.”
“Your culture’s very important to you, isn’t it?”
“Some aspects, yes, some not.” Especially those that defied logic.
“But you believe in your… What did you call it?”
“My onen. Mayan mythology. The sun god is a jaguar. It also foretells the arrival of foreigners.”
“Foreigners?”
“Yeah. I think my mother chose that for me since I was born in the States. But she swore it came to her in a dream. I have a hard time believing it.”
He’d never put much stock in dreams before he’d met Joanna Blake, before she had begun to disturb his own dreams. Surreal dreams. Sexual dreams.
Maybe his mother had been right to give him the onen. Joanna had co
me into his life, foreign to him, with a deeply engrained love for her child and a strong conviction in her work ethic. The consummate mother. A woman who deserved a considerate man to attend to her needs. Some of those needs Rio would have no problem tending, others he wasn’t so sure.
Suddenly he wondered if this was the woman his mother had told him about, the stranger who would change his life for the better. A nice thing to consider, if he really believed in all that mystical stuff. Maybe he was just too jaded to believe in forever-after or love. He sure as hell didn’t intend to settle down, conform to what society considered fitting—a marriage license and the average two kids.
Joanna remained silent with her elbows propped on the table, palms forming a resting place for her cheeks. She stared off into space as if she’d left him mentally, if not physically. He had a good idea where her thoughts had taken her.
“You’re thinking about your son,” he stated.
Joanna looked up, startled. “As a matter of fact, I was.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
She straightened and fidgeted with a corner of the cloth place mat. “Two days ago, when I told my mom I was moving.”
“I bet it’s tough on him, being without you.”
She smiled a sad mother’s smile. “It is. Tough on us both. But he’s a strong little boy. He’s had to be.”
Rio wanted to know more about her, what made her tick. What made her sad other than the absence of her son. “Tough divorce?”
“In some ways, yes. Especially on Joseph, not that he had a great relationship with his father.”
“So his father’s totally out of the picture?”
“Very much so. I don’t even know where he is. Not that I want to know.”
Sorry bastard. “Does Joseph ask about him?”
“Sometimes, but like you, he was too young to remember much about his dad. Joseph’s the best thing that came out of my marriage. He’s always been my strength.”
The unshed tears glistening in Joanna’s blue eyes caused something deep inside Rio to hurt for her, made him want to take away that pain he saw all too clearly, even though she tried to hide it with a weak smile.
“Call him now, Joanna.”
She looked surprised and thankful. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“I’d like that. But I insist on paying you for the—”
“Forget it. Just call your son.” He nodded toward the phone hanging on the wall.
She quickly rose from the chair and strode to the phone. Rio thought he should probably leave, give her some privacy, but for some reason he stayed, maybe to provide some comfort if she needed it. He doubted she’d ask, though, or easily accept his consolation.
“Joseph, it’s Mommy.” Her face immediately brightened. “You’re playing with your train? I’m so glad you like it, sweetie. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more Christmas presents, but maybe next year.”
A long pause suspended the conversation until Joanna finally said, “I’ll have to see about that bike. But you have to have training wheels until you learn to ride it.”
Rio watched Joanna from the corner of his eye while he cleared the plates from the table. She twisted the cord round and round her finger, swiped at her face now and then, raised her chin and covered her mouth on occasion. He could tell she was trying hard not to cry. If only he could do something to rid her of those tears, at least temporarily. Get her mind off her troubles. Maybe he could.
After she hung up, he held out his hand to her. “Come here. I want to show you something.”
She blinked then stared. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Surely you don’t mean that hot tub.”
“Nope. I want to show you my favorite place.”
Joanna stared with wide-eyed wonder at a room that held every indoor form of recreation imaginable, including a freestanding basketball goal on one end. A pool table sat in the middle; electronic pinball games lined the paneled walls. The only thing that even hinted at adulthood was a bar that resembled something out of a saloon, complete with a mirrored background, shelves full of liquor and inverted glasses of every shape and size dangling from a row of holders above the counter.
“This used to be a formal dining room.”
Rio’s statement brought Joanna back into the real world, or his world, as the case may be. “It looks big enough to be a ballroom,” she said.
“True. The room didn’t have anything in it when I bought the house, so I turned the space into play town.”
Play town was an accurate description, Joanna decided. Perfect, since it seemed Rio Madrid was still a little boy playing at being an adult—conservative doctor by day, adventurous adolescent by night. She’d known his kind before, been married to his kind, as a matter of fact. The kind of man that should be avoided at all costs.
But she couldn’t avoid him at the moment since he was still holding her hand, looking as though he was awaiting approval on a job well done. Looking devastatingly handsome.
Tugging from his grasp, she walked to the leaf-scrolled wooden pool table, obviously expensive, maybe even an antique, more than likely five times more costly than her car.
She faced him and immediately noticed the pride in his expression. “Very interesting, Doctor. Is this what you do in your spare time when you’re not in the hot tub?”
“Yeah. It helps me relax.” He cocked one eyebrow. “Can I interest you in a game?”
Oh, yes. Oh, no! “What kind of game?”
He made a sweeping gesture around the room. “Take your pick, but I was thinking pool.”
Now, this could be great fun, a chance for Joanna to play her own little game. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a long time. I’ve never been all that good.” Not quite as good as her dad, but she could definitely hold her own.
“I’ll go easy on you.” His mellow, hypnotic voice made her think of slow and easy lovemaking. She suspected he would take his time, using his skilled hands, his mouth…
She should be horsewhipped for thinking such things, but Joanna couldn’t deny that Rio Madrid was the kind of man that fantasies were made of. Nothing wrong with fantasies, she guessed, as long as she didn’t allow them to take flight into reality.
Rio crouched at the end of the table, retrieved the balls from beneath and rolled them onto the felt surface. After he had them racked, he made his way to the cues hanging on the only bare space of wall. He grabbed two then came back to her. “Exactly how much experience do you have?”
A loaded question, especially since he posed it as if it had nothing to do with billiards. She took the pool stick he offered and a deep breath, but couldn’t avoid brushing his hand, couldn’t ignore the electric current that his touch generated throughout her whole body.
“As I’ve said, it’s been a while.” Been a while since she’d played pool, since she’d made love, since she’d even wanted to make love.
“I’ll let you break then. Give you a head start.”
She could use one at the moment, but she inherently knew it would take little time for Rio to catch up.
Determined to focus on the game, she rolled her shoulders to loosen up then walked to the end of the table, lined up the cue ball and studied the angle. Feigning ignorance, she asked, “Is this okay?”
“I’d say that.”
Rio didn’t appear to be looking at the ball, or the cue. He was looking straight at her cleavage, slightly exposed beneath her cotton blouse because of her position. Normally she would scold him. Normally she would button up to the neck and give him a dirty look. But she didn’t feel all that normal. She felt wicked, delighting in the power she seemed to have over him at that moment.
About time. He’d mesmerized her on more than one occasion.
Finally he looked away and removed the rack. “It’s all yours.”
With a little thoughtful planning, Joanna managed to hit the cue ball exactly right,
causing it to bounce twice but landing short of the other balls.
She straightened and tried to look contrite. “Sorry. Guess it’s been longer than I thought.”
“Maybe you’re not holding the cue right.” He took his time traveling to the other end of the table but didn’t hesitate when he came up behind her and circled his arms around her, positioning her hand on the end of the stick. Joanna had all the confidence in the world on how to handle a cue, but she didn’t have a clue on how to handle his nearness and still remain composed enough to play the game. He was warm against her back, hard, male, making her feel intoxicated as if she’d raided the old-timey bar and downed all the whiskey.
His breath fanned her face, fed the flame now spanning the length of her. He smelled like incense, spicy and exotic and tempting. Joanna continued to play ignorant, play at this game of chance where the stakes were high and losing all common sense could be the price she would pay if not careful.
“Now hold it steady,” he said in a warm honeyed voice, thick and seductively sweet.
Steady? How could she? “I’ll try.”
The feel of him molded to her backside in all the right places had knocked her self-control for a loop, disturbed the timbre of her voice. She sounded like a mouse and felt like a woman. A woman in dire straits, enveloped in the solid arms of a man-boy with too much charm and the means to make her tremble, which she did, but only slightly.
With Rio’s assistance—help she didn’t really need—she broke the balls, effectively scattering them over the green felt surface, the way her composure scattered in his presence.
Much to her disappointment, and relief, he straightened and moved away.
His grin was confident, distracting. “You don’t have to call the pocket right now since you’re getting reacquainted with the game.”
Joanna smiled to herself. Little did he know, the charade was now off and the competition on.
She leaned forward over the table, sensing Rio’s scrutiny and trying hard to ignore it. If she didn’t, she’d probably bounce the balls like ball bearings across the room with her first shot. “Twelve ball, corner pocket.” After she said it, she did it. And again and again. With little effort, she cleared the table of all the striped balls.