Exposing Alix

by Scott, Inara

  They’d even shared stories of their crazy childhoods—his, running around South Central trying to prove he belonged, and hers, riding the trains in New York City, knowing she didn’t belong to anyone, anywhere.

  He smiled reluctantly. “Okay, you’re right. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you play nursemaid for me.”

  “Nonsense. I need a break from your yelling anyway.” He started to protest further, and she held up a hand to interrupt. “Just give me Maria’s number and address, and I’ll take care of it.”

  “Ryker!” Amir ran up with a pained look on his face. “Frank said to tell you the B Camera isn’t running, and catering says they need to go out and get more tortilla chips. Apparently our little extras are just famished! Oh, and the girl in the red dress is throwing up in the bathroom. What do you want to do about it?”

  Alix and Ryker winced in unison.

  Ryker heaved a sigh. “Tell Frank I’ll be right there. We can wait for the food, but tell Red Dress if she isn’t on the set when the cameras are rolling, I’ll have to replace her.” As Amir ran in the other direction, Ryker turned to Alix, a deep wrinkle of concern between his eyes. “You’re right. I can’t leave. Are you sure you don’t mind getting Felicity?”

  She held up her pad and pen. “Just give me the number and the keys to your house. We’ll be fine.”

  #

  When Ryker walked through his front door that night, the first thing he heard was giggling. He stopped to close his eyes and listen. It was a sound he would never grow tired of hearing. When Maria and Fifi had stayed with him for two months in the spring, he’d grown accustomed to hearing that giggle. It made the house seem that much quieter after they left.

  He followed the sound to the backyard. Alix, clad in a painfully circumspect one-piece bathing suit, swirled Felicity around in the pool. The one-year-old slapped the water with open palms and then laughed uproariously when the water hit her face.

  “Lovely, Fifi, lovely!” Alix pushed back her hair and grinned when a jet of water caught her in the eyes.

  “Mo, mo, mo!” Fifi squealed.

  “Goodness, you are a clever little thing, aren’t you?” Alix crooned. They looked so natural together, Felicity nestled deep in Alix’s arms, Alix swaying back and forth to some unconscious rhythm. “This is the life, I tell you. Maybe Gunther’s right. Maybe I should sell my soul to the devil and move back to LA.” She laughed at her own joke. “Then again, I’m not sure the devil pays much for souls like mine.”

  Ryker cleared his throat as he walked over to the side of the pool. “I wouldn’t count on that,” he said. “I think your soul could be worth quite a bit.”

  Alix spun around, a plume of pink coloring her cheeks, while Felicity turned into a full-body squirm.

  “Ry, Ry!” Felicity called, stretching her arms toward him. “Ry!”

  “You’re back early,” Alix said. “You startled me.”

  “Gunther and I cut the meeting short. He said he would give me a call tomorrow.”

  “Ry?” Felicity slapped the water hopefully.

  “Honey, Uncle Ryker is wearing one of his fancy shirts. We don’t want to get him wet.” Alix paused. “On second thought, he’s filthy rich. What are we worried about?”

  “Huh?” It took a moment for her words to register, because he was captivated by the way the sun reflected golden lights in her hair, and he could almost make out the curve of her breast, pressed against Felicity’s back. “Now wait a minute.” He began to back away from the water.

  Alix waded over to the side of the pool. “Splash, Fifi,” she called. “Quick! Splash!”

  Felicity didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, she was slapping the water as hard as she could. Alix tried to hold Felicity in one arm while she shoveled handfuls of liquid at Ryker. She was almost entirely ineffective, but she was laughing so hard he couldn’t help but lean over and join in. He tried for a moment to splash Alix, but that was impossible without getting Fifi in the face, so, without another thought, he slipped off his shoes and jumped in the water. Grabbing his niece from Alix’s unresisting grasp, he launched into an all-out, full-frontal assault.

  “Get her, Fifi!” he shouted, and they swept the water in wide strokes in Alix’s direction. Alix shrieked and ducked under the surface. Ryker watched, bemused, as she swirled her body around and took a deep stroke toward the other end of the pool. Her absurd suit, which apparently had been made in the 1950s, covered her from her collarbones to the curve of her heart-shaped bottom, but it hardly mattered. The fabric molded to her small frame, and when she popped back up to the surface a few feet away, it outlined her tiny waist and generous breasts.

  He almost dropped Fifi when he saw her nipples, perfectly framed by the thin fabric.

  He couldn’t get involved with her. He knew that. She was an emotional train wreck, a woman on the hunt for love, and his producer’s virtual daughter. Cheap-and-easy sex was not an option.

  But her mouth, oh, her mouth. Just looking at it gave him shivers. Every night when he went for a swim, all he could think of was the movement of her body against his, the way her legs had closed around his waist, and the way it had felt—for just a moment—to bury himself inside.

  “You can’t get me,” she taunted.

  He swallowed and tried not to stare, but the vision of her body, so beautifully revealed by the thin suit and slanted sun over the water, had him captivated. Her smile slowly faded.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said huskily.

  She turned away, wiping the water that dripped down her face and into her eyes and then gazed at Felicity. A wide smile creased her cheeks. “Well, Fifi, I guess we got him, didn’t we?”

  Ryker looked down at the thick, black hair of his niece. She patted his arms and gazed up with adoration. An invisible camera clicked somewhere, and he felt the picture in his bones, the scene forever framed in his mind.

  Alix, in the water, smiling.

  Felicity, looking up trustingly, her tiny body relaxed against his.

  The sun, casting silvery sparkles in the water around them.

  A wave of emotion hit him so hard his knees trembled. He tried not to react, but the feeling was so strong he had to catch his breath.

  “Are you all right?” Alix asked, concerned.

  “I’m fine,” he managed to rasp. “I just realized how cold the water is.”

  “Here, let me take Fifi.” Alix walked over, arms extended, and he handed her the child without argument. She took Felicity under the arms, and when their fingers touched, he flinched.

  “Jesus, I’m not going to bite you,” Alix muttered. Felicity settled easily on her hip, and the two of them headed to the steps at the shallow end of the pool.

  He could only watch them go, a lump in his throat making breathing difficult. He swallowed hard and looked down at his clothes, his shirt plastered to his chest, cotton pants swirling in the water below. He hauled himself out of the pool and unbuttoned his shirt while Alix toweled off Felicity and herself. Helplessly, he watched the path of the towel across her shoulders, around her waist, over her breasts, between her legs, and his body reacted like it did every time he imagined touching her. Except now he was half clothed and wet and didn’t have much room to hide.

  Felicity dashed off through the patio door into the house. Alix looped the towel around her waist in a loose sarong. “Fifi, wait for me!”

  Ryker grabbed her arm as she brushed past him. “Alix, I didn’t mean…” Whatever he had planned to say dried in his throat, because she was gazing hungrily at his bare chest, and her lips lay in a loose, full line, and all he could think of was pressing those breasts against him and claiming that mouth in a deep, hot kiss.

  “Alix,” he started again, but she was so close her towel brushed against his legs, and the words dissolved in his mouth.

  “Fifi,” she said. “I need to get Fifi.”

  He looked at her smooth, wet hair and the perfect curve of her nose. She was still stari
ng, her gaze flicking between his chest and then lower. When her tongue danced across her lips, he barely silenced a groan. His hand traveled from her forearm to shoulder, and then brushed her collarbone, trailing along the edge of her jaw. She sucked in a breath.

  He’d been so good, fought his desire for so long, but something broke down inside, and he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her eyes to his. She blinked furiously and looked everywhere but into his face. He could think of nothing to say, just memorized the shape of her lips and arch of her brows.

  “Don’t,” she said, her voice breaking.

  He leaned forward, the rest of the world slipping away as he focused on her lips.

  “Ryker!” Rosalia’s voice rang out through the house. “Felicity, what are you doing? You know Uncle Ryker doesn’t like it when you pull the cushions off the sofa. Where is Uncle Ryker, anyway? Doesn’t he know better than to leave a child alone in the house? Ryker?”

  Nothing could have doused his ardor faster than the sound of his eldest sister.

  Why on earth had he given them all the security code to his front gate?

  Alix pulled away just as Rosalia emerged from the patio door.

  “Well, well, well!” Rosalia said. “What do we have here?”

  Ryker glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did it ever occur to you to knock?”

  “Not when I’ve just driven across town in rush-hour traffic to pick up my niece so my enormously important brother can get back to work,” she said sweetly. “How are you, Daisy? So nice to see you again. I do hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

  Alix, her face glowing with embarrassment, tightened the towel at her waist and motioned toward a pile of clothes on a reclining chaise longe. “Of course not. I just need to get dressed, and then I’m on my way,” she said.

  “Don’t go,” Ryker commanded.

  Rosalia nodded. “Absolutely not. I’ll just get Felicity.”

  “You didn’t need to come,” Ryker said. “We were doing fine.” A sudden wash of anger sent his toes and fingers tingling. Just once, he’d like to see Rosalia mind her own business and stay out of his life.

  Just once.

  “Maria told me you had meetings tonight,” Rosalia said. “She felt terrible. I told her I would come by and get Felicity as soon as I could.”

  “Maria knows I’ll collect from her when the time comes.” Ryker gritted his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Alix disappear into the changing area at the back end of the pool, clothes clutched to her waist.

  He couldn’t let her leave. It suddenly seemed imperative that he keep her there. “It wouldn’t make any sense for me to go back to the studio now,” he said to Rosa, though he kept watching for Alix. “And remind me why you need to get involved in everything that happens in this family?”

  “I happen to care about this family.” Rosalia huffed. She threw back her head and gestured toward the house. “Let’s not argue. I’m here already. I might as well collect Felicity and go.”

  “Fifi is fine with me,” Ryker said.

  “She can’t stay here. Maria’s class isn’t over until eight, and Felicity needs to be in bed,” Rosalia said.

  “I have a playpen upstairs. She can sleep here,” he shot back. “I’m not going to infect her, you know. She’s stayed here before and survived.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, I know that. I’m just trying to help.”

  “Yes, you’re nothing if not helpful, Rosa.” It was an old argument, her constant mothering like nails running down a chalkboard in his mind. “Let’s drop it. Maria already planned to pick her up here.”

  “But—”

  “Drop it,” he warned.

  “Fine.” Rosalia looked him up and down. “Fall into the water did you?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Without a look toward him or Rosalia, Alix emerged, fully clothed, and ducked into the house. He watched her hips sway beneath her loose jeans as she walked, her backside perfectly rounded when she bent over to talk to Fifi, who was cheerfully ripping pages out of one of his magazines. A moment later, the two of them were seated side by side on the couch. Alix pulled a sippy cup and stack of books from an oversized diaper bag. Fifi bounced with joy as Alix started to read.

  Ryker sighed with relief. For now, at least, she wasn’t planning to leave.

  Rosalia pursed her lips. She studied Alix for a moment and then turned back to Ryker. “She seems like a lovely woman,” Rosalia said. “And Felicity certainly seems to like her. Any chance it’s serious this time?”

  “I’m not in the market for serious,” he said. “Al…er, Daisy knows that.”

  “Just because Mama got hurt doesn’t mean everyone does.”

  Ryker looked pointedly down at his pants. “Thanks. Now, I really ought to get changed.”

  Rosalia dropped her voice. “We’re going to the cemetery tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  “No,” he snapped. “I don’t want to come with you. You’ve been asking me to come for ten years, and for ten years, I’ve said no.”

  “Mama would want you there.”

  “Mama’s dead, Rosa. She doesn’t want me to be at her grave with you. She doesn’t want anything from me.”

  “You’re part of the family,” Rosa said stubbornly. “It isn’t right not to have you there.”

  “I’m half family, Rosa. And not even the right half. No one cares if I’m not there.”

  Rosalia sucked in a breath. For a moment, the façade of a competent, slightly officious middle-aged woman dropped away, and she looked like the twenty-four-year-old she was. “Damn you, Ryker,” she whispered. “I care. I’ve always cared.”

  She pushed past him, and he thought he saw tears in her eyes. As she approached the couch, Felicity jumped up and grabbed her around the knees. Rosalia picked her up and swung her around in a fierce hug.

  “I’m sorry, mi hija, I have to go. You stay with Uncle Ryker.” Her voice sounded husky and thick with tears.

  Ryker fought the wave of guilt that followed. Words lodged in his throat. He shouldn’t have to apologize, he told himself. Rosalia had been perpetuating a fantasy for years that someday, everything would change, and he’d want to be a part of their happy little Mexican family. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. And that was all there was to it.

  He couldn’t change who he was or what he was.

  Felicity gazed around hopefully. “Ry?”

  Alix held out her arms. “Yes, sweetie. Uncle Ryker is right there.” She pointed to the patio, where Ryker dripped onto the concrete. “See? Your silly uncle is all wet. He can’t come in until he dries off.”

  Fifi giggled and settled back into Alix’s lap.

  “Have fun with the bastard,” Rosalia said to Alix. “Just don’t turn your back to him.” Before Alix could respond, she brushed past and ran out the door. A moment later, a car roared down the driveway.

  Alix looked through the patio door at Ryker. “Everything okay?”

  “Of course. Just the usual.” He combed his fingers through his hair, sending a cascade of water down his back and shoulders.

  Felicity grabbed a hank of Alix’s hair and tugged.

  “She’s direct, isn't she,” Alix said. “Maybe we should try that on the set. Yank on Lena’s hair when she isn’t ready.”

  “Good idea,” Ryker said, chuckling weakly. He slid off his pants and stood in a pair of dripping boxer shorts as Alix resumed reading the book. It was about a lost bunny who hopped around a forest glade searching for his mother, but none of the other forest animals knew where she had gone, and each sent the bunny in a different direction.

  Ryker let the sun warm his shoulders as he stood, listening to Alix’s husky voice and Felicity’s baby-speak until the thrumming in his head drowned them out.

  Tomorrow was the anniversary of his mother’s death.

  Damn Rosalia for reminding him. Every year he tried to forget, and ever
y year she tried to drag him to the cemetery to remember. Once, just once, he’d like to be on location on June twenty-fifth—somewhere in a jungle or on a beach. Somewhere they didn’t have phones or Internet or telegrams.

  But he knew Rosalia would find him. It wouldn’t matter where he went. She seemed to think it was her personal obligation to keep Mama’s memory alive. They’d had a terrible fight about it the first year. He told her she wasn’t like Mama, no matter how hard she tried, because Mama would never have forced such a scene. She told him Mama was weeping in her grave over his refusal to honor her along with the family.

  It had been the same every year since, with varying degrees of venom, as if they were rehearsing a scene in a movie and a sadistic director somewhere was laughing and yelling, “Do it again!”

  And damned if it didn’t hurt just as much, every time.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Alix schooled herself not to look as Ryker walked past the couch on his way upstairs, a towel slung low around his hips.

  It was no use. He was simply too beautiful.

  Like a sculpture by an artist who worshipped the male form, he was all long, lean muscles and flat planes between, everything in perfect proportion to lure the eye lower, low enough to see that the towel now lay flat against his groin.

  Apparently the visit from his sister had killed the ardor aroused by the pool.

  He had almost kissed her. After a week of healing the rift they’d created at Gunther’s party, and striking a delicate friendship out of what she’d thought had been an insurmountable distance, he’d leaned forward with every intention of kissing her. And she’d said, “Don’t” when every muscle in her body yelled, Please, please do.