“I wish I could believe you, but I know tomorrow you’ll find something else to be suspicious about. I’m tired of it.”
Her heartbeat hammered her chest. “What do you mean?” The squeaky sound of her voice betrayed the rush of fear that overcame her.
Hurt-filled eyes fixed on her when he faced her again. “How do you think it makes me feel to know my wife doesn’t trust me?” She reached for him, and he pulled back. “Don’t.”
She flinched from his rejection. He’d never pulled away from her before. Not once. Not ever. No matter how upset he was. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, “I do trust you.”
“No, you don’t. It’s always something. I couldn’t get to the hospital to see Roarke and Celeste’s new baby, so you automatically assumed that I lied about having to meet a client. I check in with you all the time. I text you when I’ll be late. You know everywhere I’ll be at almost every minute of the day, and it’s still not enough. I—”
At the break in his tirade, she lifted her downcast eyes. He was frowning at her, a light of suspicion in the depths of his. “Earlier tonight I couldn’t figure something out. I want you to answer a question. How did you know I was at the hospital?”
Cassidy remained silent, choosing not to incriminate herself. Apprehension, like an acid, burned in her stomach.
When she didn’t answer, Antonio rephrased the question. “How did you know where to find me?”
Chapter Twelve
“Wait a minute.” Antonio spoke more to himself than to her. He fished his smartphone out of his pocket and watched her bite her lip, a sure sign of guilt. He looked at the phone and then at her again. “My phone, Cassidy? You bugged my phone because you didn’t trust me?”
“Antonio—”
“How did you . . . ?” He floundered, flabbergasted she’d gone to such lengths.
“Last week,” she answered in a soft voice.
“When you came to my office?”
She nodded.
“You’ve been keeping track of me and my conversations all week?”
“I didn’t activate the software after I downloaded it,” she said hastily, as if that made what she’d done acceptable. “After you asked me to remove the software from your computer, I did, but I-I didn’t mention the one I’d saved to your phone. I swear I only activated it tonight because you ran off and I didn’t know where you’d gone. I didn’t know what to do.”
“The software has a GPS component?” When she nodded, Antonio almost crushed the phone in his hand. “Unbelievable. That’s how you found me. I told you I’d explain everything when I came back.”
“You have to understand, I needed to know. You were acting strange.”
He used the device to point at her. “I’m not the one acting strange. You are. This isn’t normal. Because of the scene you made, the entire country almost found out about my brother’s affair days before he gained his freedom. You could have jeopardized the divorce with the stunt you pulled at the hospital.” Tears pooled in her eyes, but he refused to cave like he always did. This time she couldn’t soften him with trembling lips or ardent apologies. “You went too far this time.”
“Don’t say that.” She reached for him again, but he recoiled, too angry to tolerate her touch. “Antonio . . .” Misery coated the inflection of her voice.
“Take that shit off my phone.”
He tossed it onto the bed and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door and shutting her out. She’d taken snooping to a whole new level, using her computer skills to keep track of him in a way that turned his stomach. To think he’d assumed they’d resolved the issue last week, but the entire time she’d had another application lying dormant on his phone, waiting for the opportunity to activate it and find incriminating evidence on him. If he hadn’t confronted her, she would have left it on there, able to retrieve information on him at her own convenience. The idea of it only infuriated him more.
He tore off his filthy clothes, the stench of food and alcoholic beverages reminding him of the altercation earlier. He stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water. He was exhausted—mentally and physically. The knuckles on his right hand stung from the tiny cuts he’d received when he attacked the man in the VIP.
The thought of such loss of control sickened him. Not only had he assaulted a complete stranger, he’d dragged Cassidy out of the club like the place was on fire. He cringed at the behavior he’d exhibited and the way he’d treated his wife. He’d been raised to be a protector and a provider, not an angry, out-of-control idiot. Of course, no one had ever warned him of the danger of falling in love with a woman with a penchant for histrionics.
Pressing his palms against the cool tile, he bowed his head under the spray and let it wash the stress of a long day and even longer night down the drain. The water poured on his head and swept down his skin in rivulets.
In a distant part of his brain, he heard the bathroom door creak open, but he didn’t look up, keeping his eyes trained on the swirl of water racing away at his feet. He assumed Cassidy would enter and leave and remained so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice her coming to the shower stall until the door slid open. She’d pinned her thick hair in a bun on top of her head.
She watched him uncertainly, as if she expected him to tell her to get out. He probably should, but he didn’t. He wanted to be stoic, but she was naked. She stepped in and slid the door shut.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I came to take a shower.”
“I’m in here.”
She shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to share.”
He pushed away from the wall, and Cassidy stepped between him and the water. He watched her calmly squirt strawberry-scented gel onto a bath sponge, and the glass enclosure filled with the fruity smell. Turning sideways, she lifted her hands above her head to get the underside of her arms and rubbed the sponge over her breasts and stomach. Her movements were purposely slow and provocative, and he couldn’t stop watching.
Irritated by his reaction to her, he took a step back to put distance between them and then froze, transfixed when she squeezed the sponge and let the soapy water slide down her flat stomach to the hairless cleft between her thighs. She’d come in there to tempt him, not allowing him to brood in solitude about what she’d done. Mission accomplished.
He wished he hadn’t seen her small, perfectly formed breasts and the plump fullness of their chocolate nipples covered in suds. The sight had a strong effect on him. He needed to get out, but his feet wouldn’t cooperate. What she’d done was inexcusable, and he didn’t want to let her off the hook, but if his body had anything to say about it, she might be pinned against the wall in a very few seconds.
Cassidy glanced over her shoulder and held out the sudsy sponge to him. Water pummeled her body and washed the soap from her skin.
“Would you do my back, please?” She sounded all innocent, but there was nothing innocent about what she was doing. He tried to remain detached, but he couldn’t, because this was his wife, and when had he ever been able to resist her?
Right now he was really hard. Really aroused. Really angry. A dangerous trio that fogged his brain and filled it with steamy thoughts.
He took the sponge and set it on one of the shelves. He pushed up against her and forced her into the wall, his hard flesh straining against her backside, wanting entry. She turned around to face him.
Bracing his hand above her head, he said, “What you did is not okay.”
She looked steadily into his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?”
“I’m sorry I downloaded software to your phone.”
“What about the Purple Rain Lounge?”
“I’m sorry for that, too.”
“You know I lost business tonight?”
She nodded.
His gaze lowered to her tempting mouth. Then he trailed a finger over the curve of her breast and watched the nipple harden. When he li
“This doesn’t change anything. I’m still mad at you.”
He caught her face in his hands and crushed her lush mouth beneath his. Hot. Hard. Taking its sweetness, plundering its softness. The little moan she let out sent a tremor down his spine. The kiss was ravenous, devouring. She shivered, arms lifting around his neck to pull him closer. She fed his hunger, kissing back with the same eagerness and molding her body to his. He felt every inch of her silky skin, the cushiony softness of her breasts and the pebbled heat of her puckered nipples.
Angling his head, he found her tongue and caressed it, plunging deeper to sweep the softness of her mouth. She tasted good, sweet, better than any other woman—anything—he’d ever tasted. He pried her thighs apart with one knee and cupped her bottom, smoothly lifting her slight frame to anchor her between his body and the wall. Slender legs wound around him, and blood thundered in his veins as he drove into her, his need unruly, unmanageable.
She made him this way. She made him lose control. “One of these days you’re gonna make me catch a case . . . make me kill somebody over you,” he groaned.
Water rained down on them, spattering their shoulders, sides, and legs, slickening their skin with a thin film that made their union even more explosive, even more erotic. Biting his bottom lip, Antonio watched his erection disappear inside her tender flesh every time he pulled her close and burrowed deep between her legs.
Cassidy answered each thrust with a countering movement of her own. She couldn’t get enough of his beautiful body—the light brown skin, the hard muscles. Legs locked around him, she pressed bruised lips to his hard jaw and flicked her tongue along his ear. Fingers trailed into his wet hair.
He felt so good, and he was getting so deep. “Baby.” Her whisper was a plea.
“You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” His voice was gruff, and he didn’t miss a beat. He was thick and long, and the pulsing rhythm of his steady strokes unleashed sensations that made her feel helpless and vulnerable.
She nodded in response to the question, flattening her cheek against his, her nails digging into his broad shoulders. “Yes . . . yes, baby, I do. I love it.”
Her reply opened the floodgates, and his hips exploded with rapid-fire motion. His grip on her tightened, and the silky steel of his arousal slid in and out of her so fast all she could do was cry out and hang on for dear life. He swallowed her cries with his mouth, and when she came, the explosion was unbearable, ecstasy imploding inside her womb. She tightened around him like a clamp and rode the waves of pleasure.
He muttered in Spanish, his voice low and raw. Bending his head to her breast, he sucked, licked, and tortured the sensitive tip. She clawed his back, tilting back her head against the wall as she surrendered to the intensity of the climax. Somehow he managed to hold her upright, even as spasms tore through him under the brutal force of his own orgasm.
When they finally caught their breaths, Antonio rested his forehead against hers. “You drive me crazy, but I love you so damn much.”
Cassidy rubbed her nose against his. She lovingly caressed his face, wondering what her life would be like without him, and knowing she never wanted to find out. She pressed her face to his damp neck. “I love you more.”
She felt his smile against her cheek and knew he’d forgiven her. “I love you to infinity.”
“I love you to infinity plus one.”
Chapter Thirteen
Antonio stood in a pair of boxers, eyeing the clock on the pristine stove he and Cassidy seldom used. It was almost one o’clock on Saturday afternoon, and he’d slept the morning away. To silence his growling stomach, he slathered mayonnaise and mustard on three slices of rye bread in preparation for a sandwich.
He looked up when Cassidy’s slippered feet dragged across the tile, her hair bound in a blue and gold headscarf. She wore one of her clingy tank tops and a pair of silk panties that had caught between her butt and provided a tempting view of half a cheek.
She yawned and stretched. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I figured you needed your rest.” He piled lettuce, tomato slices, and chunks of roast beef and turkey onto one slice of bread.
“Are you making one of your triple-decker sandwiches?”
“Yeah, you want one?”
“No, I’ll take a bite of yours.”
“I want my whole sandwich for myself, thank you very much.” She had a habit of mooching off his meals.
“It’s only one little bite because I don’t want a whole one. No big deal.” She smiled sweetly and blew him a kiss, confident she’d have her way. She was right. She poured juice in a glass and took a sip, watching him construct the sandwich.
“You have anything planned for today?” Antonio asked.
“No. Do you have to work?” She kept her voice even, but he could tell she hoped he didn’t have to.
“No. We could lie around the house and watch movies if you want.”
“I’d like that.” Her face brightened, which warmed his insides.
It brought home again how much he’d neglected her needs lately, and that he should have paid more attention to her requests to spend time together. He’d already attained his goal of running a prosperous business, beating his own timeline by doing it before he turned thirty. He could slow down. He was able to provide for his wife, and she worked because she wanted to, not because she had to. A sense of pride filled him.
He bit into his sandwich, watching Cassidy reach up into the cupboard to get a plate. His gaze slid along the length of her body. Yeah, they’d be staying in today.
“What’s that smile about?” she asked.
“I’m thinking about how I’m going to tear that ass up.”
She turned so he could see her partially bare bottom. “This one?”
“Mhmm. You can’t show it off like that and not expect me to take a bite.” He bent and nipped her partially exposed cheek with his teeth.
Cassidy squealed and pulled the material to fully cover her bottom. “Eat your sandwich, not me.”
He pulled her back against him so she could feel his hard-on and kissed the side of her neck. “You’re right. I’m saving you for dessert.” She giggled and rubbed against him. “Keep playing.”
She turned in his arms. “Give me a bite,” she said, indicating the sandwich.
He held it out, and she struggled to fit her mouth around the three pieces of bread stuffed with meat and vegetables. “I know you can get your mouth wider than that.” He chuckled when she raised an eyebrow and shot him a dirty look. “Good?”
Nodding as she chewed, she poured another glass of juice for him. He set the sandwich on the plate, grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard, and followed her into the living room to watch a movie.
After he finished his meal, he pulled her feet onto his lap.
“You’re going to rub my feet?” she asked. “You haven’t done that in a long time.”
“I know. I need to handle my business and make sure all the things I did to get you I continue to do so I can keep you.” He winked at her. “Besides, it’s the least I can do since I love seeing you in stilettos.”
She harrumphed. “So your motives are purely selfish.”
“Not purely. I want to take care of my baby, too.” He walked his thumbs over the sole of her right foot and then gently rotated it at the ankle.
Nestled against the arm of the sofa with the throw pillows at her back, Cassidy purred. “I’ll put up with painful feet if you promise to do this for the rest of our lives together.”
“I promise.”
With her eyes closed, she looked content, but her words triggered a memory from their argument last night.
“What were you referring to last night when you said consequences can last a lifetime?” He started tugging gently on each toe.
“I was talking about Ernesto and his actions. What he and Valentina did won’t only affect the adults in that triangle—Emilio will be affected, too.”
“Is that all you meant? It was the way you said it.”
Her eyes opened. “The way I said what? We were talking about your brother.”
Her defensive tone convinced him there was something else amiss. He paused in massaging her feet. “That’s how the conversation started, but you weren’t talking about him when you said that.”
“What else could I be referring to?” Agitated, she sat up and removed her feet from his lap.
“Cass,” he started, choosing his words carefully, “I know how hard it was for you to lose your parents.”
She’d been very young when her parents died. Her father and his mistress had died in a plane crash. It had come as a surprise to the family because he had supposedly ended the relationship with the other woman. Within months of her father’s death, her mother died. He could never get her to talk about it, even though it was obvious how much it had affected her.
“Let’s not talk about this right now.” She focused on the movie playing on the television.
“We have to talk about it. We’ve never talked about it. You know as well as I do this irrational distrust you have of me and our relationship comes from what you saw happen between your parents.”
She sprang from the sofa, but she wasn’t fast enough to escape the clamp of his hand around her wrist. “Let go.”
“Babe, I want to understand what’s going on with you. Talk to me.”
“Stop. Leave me alone.” Despair filled her voice. She tugged and twisted, her reaction so over the top he wanted to attribute it to typical Cassidy behavior, but even for her it seemed strange. “Leave me alone!” The high-pitched scream surprised him, and he released her.
With a suddenness that took him aback, she clutched at her chest.
“Cass?”
She took two deep breaths and then staggered like a drunk. Before he could catch her, she collapsed to the floor.
“Cass!”
In a panic, Antonio dropped to his knees beside her and reached to pull her close. She shook her head vigorously, pushing him away. Her breath came in rapid, shallow spurts.
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