“Sex,” Rafael answered with a grin.
“Wait a minute, you’re going to build up my stamina for sex with sex?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
She inhaled sharply when his hand slid between her thighs. “No, I don’t,” she moaned.
He chuckled and nuzzled her neck.
“Rafe?”
“Sí, mi ángel,” he answered against her throat.
Rebekah stopped his hand before it drifted higher between her legs. She smiled into his eyes. “Lie back.”
The urge to pleasure him, to show him how much she loved him, filled her. Feeling heady with power and excitement, she climbed on top of Rafael.
* * * *
He watched her through lowered lids as she dropped little kisses on his chest. His excitement mounted as she slid lower over the plane of his stomach. When she took him in her mouth, his muscles tightened to hard, tense chords. Breathing became a painful exercise. He mumbled something incoherent in Spanish even he didn’t understand.
Her hair hung like a heavy curtain around her face as she worked her mouth and hands along his shaft, bringing him closer and closer to an orgasm. He warned her when he was about to come, but she continued undeterred, pulling, drawing every last bit of self-restraint until he could no longer withstand it. His control snapped. With a jerk, he went off like a bottle rocket, groaning, clenching the sheets, pumping his hips, and spilling into her mouth.
* * * *
Feeling pleased with herself, Rebekah crawled back up toward him, but she saw the question in his eyes.
“No,” she said. “Only you.”
He pulled her down to him and rolled her onto her back, fiercely devouring her lips. They kissed for a long time with Rebekah pinned beneath him. When he finally released her, she was breathless. He crushed her in a stronghold and pressed his lips against her temple.
“Gracias.”
She didn’t know if he thanked her for what she’d just done or for never sharing such an intimate act with another man.
Perhaps it was both.
* * * *
The following morning, over a breakfast of coffee and huevos rancheros, Rebekah and Rafael discussed plans for the rest of the summer before his assistant arrived for work. They spoke to Rafael’s attorney and left a message for Sterling Buchanan on the east coast. Once Lydia made her appearance, Rafael excused himself, but not before stealing a lingering kiss.
Over the course of the next two weeks, each day Rebekah and Ricardo explored different parts of the city, going to all the major tourist attractions and taking tours. Sometimes Rafael joined them. They visited the Kodak Theatre, the home of the Academy Awards every year. They took pictures at different spots on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, visited the courtyard of Grauman’s Chinese theater off Hollywood Boulevard, and took a tour of the stars’ homes.
They spent an entire day at Venice Beach, swimming, eating, and watching the street performers on the boardwalk, toured China Town, and spent a day at the Universal Studios theme park. In between, Rebekah managed to find time to get in some shopping too.
Despite the full days, at night, Rebekah had enough energy to accommodate the passion that consistently flared to life between her and Rafael. Because she had moved into his bedroom, Ricardo came in there regularly and climbed in between them to watch television. When he fell asleep, Rafael would carry him back to his room and he and Rebekah would spend the rest of the night talking or making love.
She was living a fairy tale, and the rekindled relationship between her and Rafael couldn’t be better. But one night, the first doubts she’d had in weeks cropped up like ugly weeds in her field of happiness.
She awoke to an empty bed. Lifting her head, she saw Rafael standing in front of the windows. His head bent, he was looking at something in his hand. It appeared to be his phone.
“Rafe, honey?” He turned toward her, but with his back facing the windows, the shadows hid his face, and she couldn’t see his expression. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Are you talking on the phone?”
A short pause. “No.”
The clipped answer sent a trickle of unease down her spine. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer right away, and his hesitation only heightened her feeling of disquiet. “I’m sending a text.”
“At this hour?”
“It’s nothing.”
Rebekah swallowed. His unsatisfactory explanation did nothing to allay her fears. She wanted to probe further, but she was afraid of his answer. “If it’s nothing, then come back to bed.” She patted the empty space next to her where he should be.
He stood there for a moment, looking at her, and she hated she couldn’t see his face—not even his eyes. Without another word, he turned off the phone and set it on top of the fireplace mantle. When he slipped into bed, she went immediately into his arms, seeking comfort from anxiety from an unknown source.
She stayed awake for a long time before sleep claimed her.
Chapter Fifteen
Less than a week later, Rebekah was a nervous wreck as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom. Her fingers shook slightly as she slipped the Harry Winston long drop diamond earrings into her ears. She wished Rafael hadn’t insisted on purchasing the expensive jewelry. Knowing they cost tens of thousands of dollars only made her more fretful about the evening. With her hair swept back into a stylish chignon, the prominent shimmer of the diamonds was on full display.
“You look beautiful.” The stylist’s encouraging smile appeared behind Rebekah in the full-length mirror. The younger woman smoothed her hands down the haute couture halter gown in printed silk organza. “How do you feel?”
Rebekah took a deep, calming breath and released it through her lipsticked lips. “Nervous.”
“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You look fabulous.”
Easy for you to say.
She wouldn’t be the one walking the red carpet at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre tonight. With butterflies running rampant in her stomach, Rebekah took another deep breath and assessed her reflection.
She had to admit, the pastel colors were flattering against her dark skin, and since Rafael liked her in lighter colors, she knew he’d appreciate what he saw. The full, flowing skirt of the dress draped along the carpet and made her feel elegant and stylish.
She and Rafael were on their way to the movie premiere of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s latest action flick. When Rafael started wrestling for the WWE, Dwayne had advised him on how to control his wrestling image, based on his own years of experience in the business. Even after Dwayne left wrestling for Hollywood, he and Rafael had remained friends.
“This one is my favorite,” Rebekah said with finality.
Thanks to a few phone calls from Lydia, since yesterday afternoon, dresses, undergarments, and shoes had been arriving at the house. Of all the dresses she’d received, Rebekah liked this one the best for comfort and style.
“We should see what Mr. Lopez thinks.”
Rebekah nodded her agreement, and after one last look at her reflection, she followed the stylist out the door to the living room.
“…now is not a good time,” Rafael was saying as they entered.
His eyebrows were drawn together in an angry frown, and the white-knuckled grip on his cell phone was so tight she wouldn’t have been surprised if it shattered in his grasp. When he noted their entrance, his face lightened immediately.
“I have to go. I’ll call you later,” he said in a curt tone.
Rebekah studied his features. Dressed in a classic tuxedo and bow tie, he epitomized raw sex appeal, but she noted the tension around his mouth and the emotion swirling in his eyes.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said with a crooked smile.
Normally, his smile would have her swooning, but it didn’t work this time because she knew something was
amiss, and he was keeping it from her.
He took her hand and prompted her into a slow twirl. “Is this the one you’ve decided on?” he asked, his voice filled with male appreciation.
He purposely changed the subject, and she allowed him to—for now. She didn’t want to spoil the evening, but she intended to question him further at a later time.
“Yes. How do I look?” She placed one hand on her hip and posed sideways for him.
“Caliente.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. You’re going to steal the show.”
“Now for the shoes, and you’ll be ready to go,” the stylist interjected, sounding pleased.
Minutes later, they stood at the front door, saying their goodbyes to Ricardo, with promises to have The Rock’s autograph with them upon their return. He did his happy dance and then hurried off to his room.
In the back of the hired limo, Rebekah threaded her fingers through Rafael’s and rested her head on his shoulder as she listened to the instructions from his male publicist. She marveled at how much Rafael’s life had changed, and she recognized the loyalty and professionalism of everyone he employed. They supported him and made him look good.
When he had asked her to attend the premiere with him, her initial thought was to decline. Then she remembered all the wrestling bouts she’d missed in the early years of their marriage, and she changed her mind. Although this wasn’t his event, he wanted her by his side, and she would support him.
When they pulled up outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, an intimidating crowd of thousands waited for the arrival of the celebrities. Her stomach tangled into knots, but she forced herself to calm down. Rafael gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before he slipped from the vehicle. She and his publicist followed soon after but hung back out of the line of the cameras while he posed for photographers. Some yelled out his name, some called him by his wrestling name, La Sombra. Others yelled out questions, which he didn’t answer, only smiled.
He answered questions posed by a couple of the celebrity entertainment correspondents who interviewed him for a few minutes each. He then walked up to the barricade where the onlookers stood, signed a few autographs, and shook hands with the excited fans. As he stepped back onto the red carpet, the publicist prodded Rebekah forward. Rafael reached for her hand, making sure to use his body to protect her from the cameras. That didn’t stop the photographers from their rapid-fire camera snapping and from hurtling questions at them.
“Rafael, Rafael, who’s the lovely lady?”
“Is she the future Mrs. Lopez?”
“Is your lady friend an actress? What’s her name?”
Without stopping or answering questions, they entered the theatre.
* * * *
“Ricky, time for lunch, sweetie,” Rebekah called from the kitchen.
Rafael and Lydia had gone to a ribbon-cutting ceremony for one of the new gyms that was opening. She and Ricardo were the only ones at the house since she sent the housekeeper home with pay for the day. Just as she set the two plates of food on the table by the window, the telephone rang. She recognized the number as her brother’s.
“Hi, Adam.”
“Bekah, it’s me!” Her sister’s excited voice came through on the line.
“Samirah? What are you doing back in the country?”
“When did you last check your email?” her sister countered. “I sent you guys a message letting you know I’d be back for a couple of weeks. I just got in yesterday, and I’m staying at Adam’s.”
“I know you’re going up to Atlanta to see Mom and Dad, right?”
“Of course. I’ll spend a few days there before I leave the country again.” Her younger sister could never stay put for too long. She spoke several languages fluently and flitted around the world from one exciting locale to another. “What are you up to?”
“I just made lunch for me and Ricky—ham and cheese in corn tortillas.”
“Sincronizadas? Oh, man, I love those things. The best ones I ever had were at this little roadside shack in Chiapas. Ooh, I can still taste them.”
“Yeah, well, whatever they’re called, Ricky and I are hooked on them, thanks to Rafael’s housekeeper.” She walked toward the bedroom. “Ricky, lunch is ready.”
“Coming, Mom.”
Rebekah headed back toward the kitchen. “Samirah, you really need to stop eating just anywhere. You’re going to get sick one of these days.”
“I have a cast iron stomach,” her sister said. “Anyway, how else do you expect me to get the true experience of a culture if I don’t eat what the locals eat?”
Rebekah sighed. “I just want you to be careful. I don’t know where you got this sense of adventure from.”
Samirah laughed. “I don’t either, but I guess someone has to have some fun in the family. Adam’s a square and you’re Miss Goody-Goody. Have you earned your halo and wings yet?”
Rebekah picked up one of the toasted corn tortillas filled with ham and oozing with cheese. “Is that why you called—to give me a hard time?” she asked before taking a bite. She sat in a chair at the table.
“No. I called because I wanted to ask you what you’re doing inside People magazine.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t know!”
Samirah laughed. “Well, you’re going to love this—seeing as how you like being in the spotlight.” Rebekah groaned. “Don’t worry, it’s not bad. You look amazing in that dress, by the way. So, I’m standing in line at the grocery store—because our dear brother has already put me to work because he’s letting me crash at his place for free—and I pick up the latest issue of People. I’m flipping through the magazine, and the next thing I know, I see a picture of you and Rafe. He’s holding your hand, and you’re just a step or two behind him. The caption reads, ‘Who’s the mystery woman with Rafael Lopez?’ You’re famous!”
Samirah’s exuberance was not catching. “I don’t want to be famous.”
“Well, it’s out of your hands now. Your photo’s in the magazine for millions of people to see. I bought a copy. Would you autograph mine for me?”
“I’m going to choke you the next time I see you.”
“Tsk, tsk, not very sisterly of you,” Samirah joked. “What’s going on with you and Rafe? Are you two officially back together?”
“Well…”
Samirah screamed so loud, Rebekah had to pull the phone away from her ear. “You are!”
“We’re still working on it, okay? We’re starting over…dating. It’s been a long time, so we’re getting to know each other again.”
“Aw. That’s so cute. Like Romeo and Juliet.”
“Romeo and Juliet died.”
“Oh yeah.”
Ricardo came into the room and picked up his plate and juice. “Can I eat in my room?” he asked in a loud whisper.
Rebekah nodded. “Don’t make a mess,” she mouthed to him before he nodded and walked away.
“Name a romantic couple who lived happily ever after.”
“Samirah, did you hear what I said? We’re still working it out.”
“Are you working it out in the bedroom too?”
“Samirah!”
“Okay, okay, I’ll leave it alone, but I know that’s a yes.” Rebekah smiled faintly and shook her head. “I just remember how sad you were after the break up. It was really hard to watch.”
“I know. I wasn’t myself for awhile.”
In a quiet voice, Samirah asked, “So you’ve forgiven him?”
“It was a long time ago, and he’s trying really hard. He still says nothing happened that night, and…I believe him. I really love him, Samirah, and I think we can work this out. We both want to.”
She hadn’t yet spoken to Rafael about the middle of the night text and the phone call the day of the movie premiere a few days ago. She had delayed asking him about it long enough. She resolved to get answe
rs when he came home.
“Oh, Bekah, I’m so excited for you. Do what makes you happy.” She could hear the catch in her sister’s voice. “I hope I find my Prince Charming one day.”
“You have to stay in one place long enough to do that.”
“Forget it. I’ve got at least a few more years of travel left in me. After I leave Miami, I’m off to Morocco.”
“See what I mean?”
“Hey, what about that guy you were dating—Carl…Carl…?”
“Carlton. What about him?”
“What happened to him?”
“He and I stopped seeing each other once I found out Rafe and I were still married. I spoke to him about a week ago and explained we’re working on our marriage. He wasn’t happy about it.”
“I never met Carlton. What was he like?”
The intercom buzzed. “Hold on, Samirah. Someone’s at the gate, and I’m expecting a package for Rafe.”
“No, I’ll call you later when we have more time to chat. I need to make another phone call. Tell my brother-in-law he better not hurt you again, or he’ll have to deal with me.”
“I will. Bye, hon.”
Rebekah buzzed the deliveryman in the gate. She signed for the package and was on her way to drop it off in the bedroom when the doorbell rang.
Did he forget something?
She swung open the door, but it wasn’t the deliveryman. A woman stood on the other side. Right away, Rebekah noted the stylish sunglasses on the woman’s head, which kept her long dark hair out of her face, the expensive handbag, and flattering sundress.
“Yes?” She must have slipped in behind the courier, which by itself was cause for alarm. She didn’t look like a crazed fan, but judging a book by its cover was always a bad idea.
“Who are you?” the woman asked. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re in People magazine. Are you the wife?” A frown of irritation marred her forehead.
“Who are you?” Rebekah demanded.
“Is Rafe here?” She tried to peer around Rebekah.
Rebekah didn’t like the familiar manner in which the other woman said her husband’s name. Then she had the audacity to try to brush past Rebekah, but she put up her hand to stop her from entering. The woman’s chest collided with Rebekah’s palm.
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