by Nina Singh
They seemed to be moving in slow motion through the stairway.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked up and brought shaky fingers to his lips.
“Don’t. Please don’t apologize.”
“I need to. I don’t know what came over me. But you showed up, and you looked so damn—” He let out a frustrated breath. “So much like the way I remembered. And it—”
Intuitively, she knew they had both moved toward each other.
Anticipation froze her muscles. Nothing moved but her heart. Even time seemed to stop.
He pulled back from her suddenly, a quiet moan on his lips.
“Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I’m taking you back upstairs.”
CHAPTER SIX
HE INTOXICATED HER. Why else would she be allowing this to happen? Savoring it?
She was still cradled in his arms when they stepped back into his hotel suite. He dropped his forehead on hers and slowly started to lower her to the floor. She clutched at his shoulders, savoring his heat as she traveled down the length of him.
This was the way it had always been between them, so much fire it was a wonder their souls hadn’t scorched. He nuzzled against her as he settled her onto her feet, and she thought she’d never realized such pleasure.
Until he set her down and a shooting pain shot through her calf. Angel gasped.
“Don’t tell me—your foot?” R.J. said above her.
She nodded, clenching her teeth against the hurt.
“Here, sit down.” He gently maneuvered her onto the sofa. “Let me take a look. I’ve had quite a few injuries in my lifetime.” Angel knew the reasons for that. R.J. had grown up on some of the toughest streets of metro Boston. He’d been in more than his fair share of fights, an aspect of his life he refused to talk about. She could hardly blame him. He softly touched her ankle with gentle fingers.
“It’s swollen even more, but it doesn’t appear sprained.” He wrapped his hand around the top of her foot, applying gentle pressure. The innocent massage sent fire up her leg. Full-blown kisses from other men had elicited less desire.
“R.J., you don’t have to do this.”
“I just want to reduce the swelling.” He continued to massage her ankle. “I’ll have the bellboy bring up an ice pack in a minute.”
She tried not to imagine his hand moving higher, his palm slowly moving over her calf, around her knee, up toward her thigh.
She couldn’t stand it anymore.
She braced her hands at his shoulders to stop him. “R.J., really. Don’t. I don’t need an ice pack either.”
He looked up at her, then his gaze dropped first to where her right hand was on his shoulder. Then followed it to her left hand. She realized how tightly she was squeezing him.
She hadn’t meant to grab him so intimately. But it was impossible to move, to let go.
He reached up and gently touched her cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispered.
She felt her lips part, felt herself move closer to him. It felt so easy, so natural. “R.J., I—I’ve really missed you.”
A sad smile formed on his lips. “Me, too, Princess. Me, too.”
“It’s been such a long time.”
“I know.” His thumb moved on her cheek. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you. Let alone be made to act like your loving husband again.”
They both stilled at the words. Hearing the actual term seemed to drive home the enormity of what they were about to do. To actually travel overseas together where they would pretend they’d never even separated.
R.J. stood suddenly. “We have quite a few days ahead of us, don’t we?”
Such an understatement. What in heaven’s name was she doing? Why was she letting her attraction rule her again? Their circumstances were complicated enough. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be admitting to having feelings for him.
R.J. had his head tilted back, his eyes shut. He looked utterly drained.
Reality had hit them both.
She cleared her throat. Did he realize how difficult it was going to be traveling with him, pretending to be his woman? All the while knowing that none of it meant anything. Not to him.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to act the part,” she admitted.
R.J.’s lips pursed into a tight line. When he looked back down at her, all hint of gentleness had left his eyes.
“I’ll call you a taxi,” he declared. “Try to stay off that ankle until the swelling goes down.”
“I—I will,” she answered, faltering at the sudden change in him.
“I’ll instruct the bellboy to come help you when the cab arrives. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I realize I do have a lot of work to do.”
She watched dumbfounded as he walked away. It was regret. He was angry for letting himself come so close to her again. Well, so be it. It was fine with her if he wanted her to leave.
He turned back to her suddenly, and she nearly jumped. “Oh, and Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I lost myself a minute ago. I won’t let things go this far again.”
She bit down on her lip, anger completely numbing any pain she may have felt in her foot. She gave him a stiff nod in response.
What did she expect? She was twenty-seven years old and still hadn’t learned to manage her overzealous hormones when it came to her ex-husband. Dressing up for him, albeit unintentionally, taunting him. She had to get a handle on her attraction. Before it was too late.
His next words just drove it home. “Do me a favor and don’t pack that dress.”
* * *
R.J. watched from his window as the bellboy assisted Angeline into her cab. He cursed himself as the car pulled away from the curb and drove into traffic.
He’d almost lost control. And the pretending hadn’t even started yet.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to act the part.
How could he have been so stupid? That’s all this was supposed to be—the two of them acting, for a business deal. He’d almost lost himself again. Just because she’d worn that dress. First he’d lashed out at her, then he’d been ready to ravish her right there on the sofa. He’d spent years disciplining himself, working toward his goals. Now he couldn’t contain himself because of a damn dress.
Her father’s words echoed in his head. “I hope you’re smart enough to stay away from her. Sign those damn divorce papers already. So she can move on to someone more suitable.”
R.J. gripped his glass tighter in his hand. To think, for a split second upon accidently running into him, R.J. had thought that maybe Richard Scott was cornering him to make peace. Perhaps he would even commend him on how far R.J. had come since he’d become his son-in-law.
Foolish. Why had he expected anything like acceptance from a man like Richard Scott when his very own father had never given him anything of the kind? Why had R.J. expected anything but scorn?
And why had he expected it of the man who’d once even tried to bribe him out of his daughter’s life?
R.J. walked over to the bar and slammed his glass down. What remained of his drink splashed over the side onto the rich glossy wood. She was right. This was simply a part he’d be playing.
Then he’d remove himself from her life for good. Or Angeline would never have a chance to reconcile with her father.
This wasn’t going to be a reunion between them. She’d asked for his help, and he was still such a fool for her he’d agreed to give it. Hell, he’d done more than that. He was actually going to travel to the supplier’s estate with her. But he had his motives. She’d lost everything because of him; her inheritance, standing, her father.
But there was no excuse for letting Angel get under his skin the way she had tonight.
Why had she shown up here? She didn’t know what she wanted. In one breath she was talking about how much she’d missed his touch and in the next she was reminding him they were doing nothing but playacting for the sake of her business.
It couldn’t be anything more.
Sure, he was no longer the outclassed lowbrow he’d been when they’d first met. But he didn’t have the bloodlines her friends and family required. As her father had unequivocally explained at their unexpected meeting, that wasn’t something he could work hard to achieve. No matter how hard he tried.
For some unknown reason fate had brought them together once again. Maybe his life had become too peaceful. Maybe he was becoming too complacent. And some unknown force had said: let’s see how you deal with Angeline Scott again all these years later.
R.J. let out a small laugh. That’s what it was. This was all a big joke. A joke on him. Well, he wouldn’t forget again. He’d remember from now on that they were both only playing a part.
* * *
“Angel, wake up.”
“Hmm?”
“Wake up, we’re landing. Final destination, we’re here.”
A warm hand gently caressed a path down her cheek, and she turned her face into it. R.J. was touching her. She was snuggled close up against him.
A small sound of pleasure escaped her lips through the caverns of sleep.
“Oh, Lord,” she heard a strangled voice say. She moved her lips into the hand that was now cupping her face.
Funny, her dreams had never felt so real before. She didn’t want to wake up from this one. A curl of heat slowly kindled inside her rib cage. The harsh jolt of the wheels touching down shocked her awake. Angeline shook the cobwebs out of her head and forced herself to move. Her surroundings slowly started to register.
So it hadn’t been a dream.
“I guess I was asleep,” she said groggily.
“You say and do some interesting things in your sleep. I’d forgotten.”
She was practically sprawled on top of him. “I—I’m sorry.” Though it almost hurt to pull back to her own seat, she forced herself.
“For?” he asked.
“For collapsing on top of you like that. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”
He swallowed, tension etched in his face. “Not in the way you think.” His words put her at a loss for her own. The plane came to a sudden and jerky stop.
She barely noticed when the speaker above them crackled and then came fully to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, your flight crew welcomes you to Tels, Mondolavia. Please go to your left as you enter the airport. We look forward to serving you again.”
R.J. dropped his hand and stood. Moving with his usual efficiency and competence, he pulled their bags from the overhead compartments.
“I guess the adventure begins,” he remarked as he stepped aside to let her into the aisle.
“I guess.”
After a brief stop at the gate, they made their way to the airport exit. She heard someone shouting for them as they walked outside.
“Angeline, R.J. Welcome, welcome.” It was Tavov.
“Tavov!” She felt a genuine smile. “So nice to see you again.”
“Yes, same to you.” He motioned for them to follow him to a waiting car at the corner.
Angeline slowly took in her surroundings. The sun appeared bright in the sky, but the temperature outside was comfortably warm. Lush hills surrounded the airport. The air smelled faintly of the sea.
A comfortable silence filled the space of the luxury vehicle when they started the drive. The road curved around hills and cliffs. In the distance, the water gleamed. Finally, they turned onto the small road that lead to the Bay’s estate. A large iron gate came into view. Tavov waited at the entrance while a man in tan overalls ran out to let them in. He tipped his head in greeting as they drove past.
With all the stress over securing the deal, she’d nearly forgotten how lovely the Bay’s property was. The large white house with pillars stood majestically at the end of the road. Angel found herself distracted by the Greek-style mansion and the lush landscape surrounding it. She noticed the brilliant greenery as they all got out of the car. Nowhere else had she seen grass quite that color of jade.
The front door flew open, and Mila stepped outside. Waving, she walked toward them as Tavov and R.J. emptied the trunk of their bags.
“Angeline, R.J. So great to see you again.”
“Hello, Mila.” Angel accepted the other woman’s hug, then watched as she embraced R.J., as well.
“Come, let’s get you settled.”
They followed Mila through the large foyer. The walls were adorned with colorful Middle Eastern art. Thick silk rugs covered wooden floors.
“We’ve put you in a suite on the second floor,” Mila said over her shoulder as they followed her up a winding staircase.
A suite. R.J. looked over his shoulder at her. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss their living arrangements. Of course the Bays would expect them to be comfortable in a one-bedroom suite.
If she had any luck whatsoever, there would be a large couch in addition to the bed.
“This is it.” Mila indicated a door on their left. Angel crossed her fingers as the other woman opened the door. They entered a charming, spacious room. Angel took stock of her surroundings. Sliding glass doors leading to a balcony offered a majestic view of the beach and ocean. Two wooden rocking chairs sat on opposite corners, on either side of the glass doors. A large bed with an ornate burgundy cover faced the balcony. There was a colorful silk Turkish rug covering the center of the wooden floor, clearly handmade.
The room was beautiful. But there was no couch. That finger-cross thing never did seem to work.
“Through that door is the washroom.” Mila pointed. “And right next to it is the closet.”
Angel realized it immediately. R.J.’s expression told her he did, too. Far from being lucky in any way, by some strange stroke of misfortune, the layout of the small suite was uncannily similar to that of their first shared apartment as newlyweds.
* * *
Images flooded her mind. Her eyes darted toward the bed, and the visuals tripled in intensity.
She looked back to find R.J. watching her. A warm flush reached her cheeks. He must have known exactly where her thoughts had drifted. She didn’t bother to look away.
“What do you think?” Mila was asking, motioning to the room in general.
“It should do just fine.” R.J. smiled, but Angel didn’t miss the hardened timbre that had reached his voice.
Angeline turned away from the bed and walked over to the balcony.
“Mila, the view is breathtaking. We’ll be more than comfortable. Thank you.”
Mila practically beamed in pleasure, apparently taking her responsibility as hostess seriously. “In that case, I’ll let the two of you freshen up. Why don’t you meet us downstairs for afternoon tea when you’re ready?”
Angel watched as Mila shut the door behind her. R.J. had walked over next to her to stare out over the balcony.
“I just can’t believe all this.” What had she gotten the two of them into?
She removed the elastic holding her ponytail in place. Hard to believe, but she was actually feeling a slight ease in the tenseness of her shoulders. Even given R.J.’s close proximity.
She turned to look at the bed. “I suppose we’d better figure out our sleeping arrangements.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll find a way to make myself comfortable on the floor.”
“That hardly seems possible.”
“I’ve slept in worse conditions. Way worse.”
Still, she didn’t want him to have to sleep on a hard floor. Especially tonight, following the long trip they’d taken. But wh
at other choice was there?
“R.J., we could take turns. We’re in this together, it’s only fair. Why don’t I sleep on the floor tonight?”
He turned quickly. “I have yet to make a woman uncomfortable while spending the night with me. I don’t intend to start with my Brahmin wife.”
The sexual innuendo stopped her heart briefly. And exactly how many women fell into that category anyway?
The last thought triggered an angry response. “This may be hard for you to believe, but I have ‘roughed it’ in the past.”
It wasn’t a bald-faced lie, although most people’s definition of roughing it probably couldn’t be held comparable to hers. Still, she’d gone camping, hadn’t she? Even if it was in a well-equipped cabin with all the worldly comforts in the luxurious backdrop of the Swiss mountains.
The corner of his mouth lifted. All right, so it was a bald-faced lie.
“Go ahead and laugh,” she told him.
He did. And he looked so sexy, so incredibly appealing. Suddenly all she wanted to do was to touch him, to have him hold her.
“Angel, you sleep on the bed. Believe me, the hardness of the floor is the last thing I’ll be thinking about tonight.”
She didn’t have to guess what he meant. This would be the first night in three years they’d been so close together. Only a few feet apart with the sensuous sounds of the ocean drifting into the room. Five days pretending to be really married, together twenty-four hours a day. She shivered slightly. She had to stay focused on the issue here. Getting Mila and Tavov to sign the supply contract and going back to Boston with a clear plan for growth. She could handle a few awkward days to achieve that.
She turned away and made for the bureau chest behind her. “Well, perhaps we could find you a blanket or something. That throw rug, as beautiful as it is, is not going to do much for your back.”
She pictured him sprawled out on the floor asleep and furiously started rummaging through the drawer’s contents. There didn’t seem to be anything in there besides a thin afghan.
He was behind her all of a sudden and grabbed her hand gently. “I’ll be fine on the floor, Angel.”