TWICE UPON A TIME

by Jennifer Wagner

  He couldn't get the thought out of his head and he couldn't shake the guilt.

  He'd brought it here … the violence, the deaths. His children had almost died because of him.

  "Are they sleeping okay?" Anna's low voice from the doorway startled him. He hadn't heard her approach.

  He turned and nodded, holding his breath as he met her eyes. Every time he looked at her he expected to see anger and accusation. At first, when they'd found the plane, he'd thought they would get the twins out safely and get on with their lives. But now, after gunshots and death, how could he expect Anna to welcome him into their lives when he'd brought the very thing she feared most?

  She walked past him and dropped a kiss on each forehead, straightening their covers and smoothing back sleep-damp hair.

  Then she held out a hand. "Come on."

  Surprise made him hesitate before he took her hand. She led the way to her bedroom where several fat, white candles blazed.

  "I didn't hear you," he said, looking around.

  She grinned, but the exhaustion on her face took away from her lightheartedness. "I was very quiet. Now, take off your shirt."

  He didn't answer. He couldn't. Uncertainty dimmed her smile, and she bit her lip.

  "Unless you don't want to and that's okay – I mean, it's fine," she said haltingly.

  His hand rose and cupped her swollen jaw, careful not to press the heated skin his thumb caressed. "I can't stand this. It's tearing me apart. Just tell me if you're going to ask me to leave. Maybe you're not planning to today or tomorrow. Maybe your generous heart wants to give me a week with the kids, but I can't deal with not knowing. It's killing me, Anna."

  Her confusion apparent, she stared at him without answering.

  "Anna…"

  "Wait a minute," she said, her hand clasping his forearm. "I know I'm reacting slow, and I'm sorry. But you've lost me. Why on earth would you expect me to tell you to leave?"

  "I'm responsible for what's happened. I brought it here."

  "We discussed that! I know it wasn't intentional. God, Rico! Crazy things happen in this life. I'm just grateful you were here in time. What if she'd decided to take them earlier?"

  His arm dropped, but she linked her fingers with his.

  "You just told me today that you loved me. Were they only words? They must have been if you are willing to walk away again!"

  He closed his eyes against the sting of tears. "I wouldn't have wanted to. I don't want to! But I know how you feel about violence. When I saw you holding that gun, shooting Dana, it made me sick. Not because you did, but because I know how you feel about it."

  She sighed. "You're right, we need to talk about this, but not now. The day's been too long, and I'm not sure I can explain how I'm feeling about what I did."

  She took a step closer and laid her head against his chest. "I will say this – I don't want you to leave. If you do, it's for your own reasons, not for my benefit or the children's." Without waiting for a response, she pulled away, led him to the bed and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt. He was too tall for her to be able to push it past his shoulders, so he bent forward at the waist and let her tug it the rest of the way off. Then she studied him. He expected a remark about the disfiguring scars. "Take the jeans off, too, and lie facedown on the bed."

  He would never be able to figure her out.

  Seduction didn't seem to be what she had in mind. Not that he was sure his body could take it. The mind, heart and soul were willing, but the body was a wreck.

  She left the room, and he stripped off his jeans. The comforter, blanket and sheet had all been pulled down and lay in a heap at the foot of the bed. Only the peach bottom sheet and two plump pillows remained.

  He crawled onto the bed, feeling every muscle, and sprawled on his stomach, not even bothering with a pillow.

  "Good. You listened," she said, walking back into the room behind him. "Now, where does it hurt most?"

  He chuckled, the sound half-muffled against the mattress. "That would take me too long to figure out."

  "Is the pain in muscles or bones?" She sounded like a lot of the nonsensical nurses he knew.

  "The bones are healed. I think I strained a few of the muscles around them."

  He could hear her pouring water in the bathroom then felt the bed tilt on his other side.

  "Okay. I asked the doctor what would help you and this is what he suggested."

  Wet heat blanketed his back and stole his breath.

  "Too hot?" she asked anxiously.

  "No. No, it's good. Real good." The heat seeped into him, dulling the twinges of pain. Immediately muscles loosened their hold and began to relax. "You asked the doctor?"

  "Mmm-hmm," she murmured, moving once again. "I could see by the way you held yourself that you strained something. He said hot, wet towels for ten to fifteen minutes should loosen you up."

  "I didn't do anything to get hurt," he mumbled.

  "Yes, you did. Lucky told me you crawled on your stomach all the way down the incline to get into position and that you were the first one to reach the plane. Which miffed him, I think, because he said he should be in better shape than you. But you still beat him. And you fought off Victorio. You made it look easy, but your muscles didn't think so. Anyway, how are your legs?"

  "Right one," he managed to say. Even his tongue felt loosened by the healing heat invading his body.

  "I should have put a towel under you," she muttered. More indistinct sounds, and then her bare hands slid under his right leg. "By the time I'm done, you won't have a knotted muscle left in your body."

  If she moved a few inches north, she'd find a muscle reacting to her touch, he thought. And if she kept touching him, the hot towels were going to be useless in stopping his body's reactions to her. Seemed when it came to her, his body was never too weak.

  Her hands kept moving, and although he realized she put a towel under his leg, with his eyes closed he focused only on her cool fingers sliding across his skin. He pictured her hands, so small compared to his, with their long fingers and small, rounded nails. Nails that managed to scrape against his skin in a delicious way.

  He took a deep breath – and she rolled up the leg of his underwear. The air shuddered out of him.

  "I knew you weren't a boxer man and I couldn't picture briefs, either," she said teasingly. "I like this compromise."

  He grunted and hid a smile. How was a man supposed to reply to a teasing witch bent on torture?

  The mattress dipped again as she left. He willed his body to ease up. Within seconds another hot towel was draped from his knee to upper thigh.

  He groaned.

  He'd had treatments like this in the hospital, so maybe it was being in Anna's bedroom with her administering that made it more enjoyable.

  "Want one on the other leg?" she asked.

  He opened one eye to see her beautiful, concerned face. He was so relaxed, he didn't think about his words. "No they didn't knife that one."

  Instead of looking distraught, her expression looked eerily cold. "I'm glad they're dead."

  "Anna!"

  "I'm sorry, but when I think of what they did to you, I'm glad they're not walking this earth. The kind of sadistic person who'd be capable of torturing someone shouldn't be allowed to mix with other people."

  She pulled up a chair and picked up the bottle sitting on the nightstand. Pouring lotion out of it, she rubbed her hands together and picked up his left hand.

  "Tell me if this hurts," she said. Starting at his palm, she kneaded gently, spreading out to his fingers.

  "You don't have to do this," he managed, the words difficult to form. She was stealing the strength from his body.

  She smiled gently. "I want to. I want to take care of you."

  Man, this woman was incredible.

  "I should be taking care of you, after the day you had today," he slurred.

  "Can I have a rain check?"

  "Baby, you can have thousands."

&nbs
p; * * *

  Anna straddled Rico's waist and worked the lotion into his still-warm back. Her fingers glided over his shoulders and back between the blades, her massage a combination of soft kneading and gentle caresses. She was so afraid of hurting him she didn't try to dig in to loosen the muscles.

  Peeking at his face, she could see his lashes lying on his cheeks. He was motionless except for the slight flaring of nostrils that told her he was probably asleep.

  Sitting back on his butt, she flexed tired fingers. His back looked so much better than his front she was willing to bet he'd been chained to a wall or chair during the torture.

  She'd surprised him as much as herself when she'd said she was happy the men who did this were dead. She'd hated them for it before, but now she was just relieved they couldn't hurt anyone else.

  Today had changed her.

  Maybe not necessarily for the better, but she felt as if she was seeing things through different eyes. Rico always claimed she wore rose-colored glasses even though she'd grown up with violence.

  She'd wanted to believe she was above it, better than others, in that she could handle situations without resorting to violence.

  Today she'd learned the necessity of fighting, learned the necessity of having people like Rico and his men to protect people from the reprehensible violence of others.

  Slipping off his back, she stood and decided to bunch up the bedcovers and sleep on the floor. He looked so incredibly comfortable, she wouldn't dream of waking him to move him over.

  "Don't go," he mumbled.

  "Hey, you. I thought you were sleeping," she said, kneeling down and brushing his hair off his face. Although, she admitted silently, she loved touching him. She just felt more comfortable with an excuse.

  "I thought I was dreaming. Then I opened my eyes and you were here."

  Her heart swelled with love for him.

  "I'm here. I'll always be here."

  He shifted his head to look her more fully in the eyes.

  "Always?" he whispered.

  "Always. How can I not be? I love you."

  She would remember his expression for the rest of her life. He'd said the words would be a precious gift to him, and she could see how honest he'd been.

  "Come here." He gave a tug and rolled to his side. Instead of wincing or groaning, he sighed.

  "Wait a sec," she said, taking off the khaki shorts she'd worn to make the massage easier. Standing there in only her red cotton shirt and high-cut underwear, she felt not an ounce of self-consciousness.

  "You may have made me boneless, but I'm still a man," he said, a wicked, heated glint in his eyes.

  She smiled and curled up along his side, easing her bare leg between his.

  "Say it again," he asked.

  She tilted her head up. "I love you."

  His expression stilled.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Do you realize that everything I have worth living for is because of you?" He ran a finger down her cheek, then saw the look in her eyes. "What did I say?"

  "I don't want to ruin this by arguing," she said, sliding her fingers across his chest.

  "We won't. As long as we know we love each other, we should be able to discuss anything."

  She took a deep breath. "It's hard for me to get past the fact that you didn't come here for me."

  She couldn't look at him, and as the silence ticked on, a suffocating hurt rose up in her chest.

  He squeezed her and rested his cheek against her forehead. "You'll never believe this, but I was scared. I'd had enough time to think about the past and even accept my responsibility in our breakup. I'd gotten past the idea of you cheating, because I'd realized how young we were. And I knew I'd have to find a way to face you. I was terrified." His free hand stroked her back. "When I found out someone was searching in my files and I had to concentrate on finding Mama, which is another issue I have to bring up with Layton for not telling me about you, my plan was to make sure she was safe. Once the danger cleared, I was going to find you. Now, I don't know if this helps, but when Mike first searched around Miami for Mom, he searched for you, too."

  She immediately looked up into his eyes, her hair rustling against the pillowcase. "He did?"

  "I asked him to make sure you were at the same address. He couldn't find a forwarding one for you, but found Mom's."

  She nodded slowly. "So, if I didn't have the twins, would you still be here with me?"

  His eyes widened. "I should really be angry with you for asking that." He blew out a big breath. "Even if the twins weren't here and even if you were still so angry with me you wouldn't give me another chance, I'd still find a way to live around here. I know, deep in my heart, that we belong together."

  With his heartfelt words, her reservations slipped away.

  "I love you," she whispered.

  He lowered his mouth to hers and brushed a kiss over her lips. "I love you too, Bella."

  She smiled as his mouth lowered again.

  Rico's exhaustion had melted away beneath the loving touch of Anna's hands. Lying here with her half-naked in his arms was having a revitalizing effect.

  "You need to sleep," he whispered, although he hadn't thought of that while gently kissing her for the past ten minutes. Her frustrated noises told him she wanted more than teasing, but he was too aware of her injured jaw.

  "Sleep? Are you kidding?" The teasing smile and meaning behind it slid right to his groin.

  He smiled back and pushed himself up onto his knees. Although twinges remained, the hot towels had loosened him enough to move without pain.

  "Come here, you," he said, shifting her into the middle of the bed and rolling her onto her stomach. The move left him kneeling between her legs.

  She smiled back at him over her shoulder, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, a pink flush gracing her cheeks.

  She'd never looked more beautiful.

  "I didn't turn in my rain check, you know," she teased.

  "I know. But I'm feeling so much better I thought I'd ease some of your aches."

  She laughed. "Was that an innuendo?"

  "Maybe. You sure you're up to this?" he teased.

  "Are you?" she asked, arching a brow with a meaningful glance down his body.

  He laughed and although he tried to make it sound wicked, his enjoyment of her was too hard to hide. He leaned forward and pushed her shirt up, baring her back and white panties.

  "Relax," he told her.

  She did with a sigh, and he placed his hands on her tiny waist, his thumbs on either side of her spine. Pushing in and up, he massaged the muscles up her back to her neck, marveling at how big his hands looked against her. Without a word she pulled her shirt off and reached around to undo the clasp of her bra.

  Her absolute ease and trust slammed into him, helping control the desire surging through his body. He leaned down and kissed the small of her back, working his way up with lips and tongue. Her little shivers and sighs told him she was enjoying it almost as much as he was.

  At her neck he nipped her smooth shoulder with his teeth, and her eyelids lifted, revealing eyes dark and filled with desire.

  "Let me roll over," she pleaded.

  He realized this would not be a slow exploration. They'd missed each other for too long, and their bodies needed the other too much.

  She turned under him, and her bare body slid against his. Twining her arms around his neck, she pulled him down against her.

  They both sighed at the contact.

  "You feel so good," he whispered, tangling his fingers into her hair, kissing along her uninjured jaw to her ear.

  She raised her knees on either side of his hips with a little arch. "So do you."

  "I'm trying to go slow here, and you're making it difficult."

  Her saucy grin faded, and she let him see her desire. "I need you, Rico. You don't know how many times I dreamed of having you here."

  "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, touching her swollen jaw w
ith care and trying one last time to be unselfish.

  "I have a lot of other places to kiss," she said, nuzzling his neck and smoothing her hands up and down his back.

  His response came in a low growl as he buried his face in her neck.

  She arched against him, squirming to get closer. He tortured her with kisses and soft nips, his large hands cupping her aching breasts. She pulled his head down, loving the feel of his mouth on her, the hot, open kisses leaving trails of moisture on her skin.

  "Rico, please," she implored.

  He looked at her with an expression so full of love and desire her throat tightened.

  "Tell me," he whispered, his hand sliding down her leg and wrapping around a knee. "What do you want?"

  She didn't reply, couldn't. His fingertips tickled the back of her knee, making breathing difficult.

  "Hmm, Bella?" His mouth started following his hands, and before she knew it, his rough cheek was brushing against her shin as his mouth traced a path to the arch of her foot.

  She reveled in sensation, giving herself up to the desire spiraling so tight within her. Vaguely registering him peeling her underwear off, she struggled to lift her heavy lids when his hands began their ascent from her feet. Molding to her shape, they traveled up so slowly she bit her lip to keep from urging him faster. He watched his hands, glancing at her every so often.

  The desire in his face brightened his golden eyes and darkened the color of his cheeks. His mouth parted on his shallow breaths, and her body swelled in response.

  She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  His hands reached her inner thighs and she caught her breath, gasping as he reached his destination. He stopped and looked at her, watching her like a hawk as one finger slid into her.

  She arched and choked out a cry. Another finger joined the first, and she could feel her body welcoming him.

  "Bella?" he questioned, and she forced herself to focus on him.

  She held open her arms, and he withdrew his fingers, taking off his own underwear. He stood there, letting her look her fill. She reached out a hand, wanting so badly to feel the hard evidence of his desire, but he shook his hand.

  "Not this time, love," he whispered, his voice deep and husky. "If you get your hands on me, this will be over before we start."