by Maisey Yates
He shook his head. “Now that is interesting.”
“I live to interest.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“You’re right. I don’t care enough about what people think.” That wasn’t true, either. She wished it was. “What’s the thread count on the sheets?”
“I can’t remember The Wizard of Oz. You think I’ll remember that?”
The corner of her mouth tugged up in a reluctant half smile. “Fine, I’ll read the tags when you leave.”
“I think my mother and Selena will be here soon. If you’d like to dress for dinner.”
“Is there something wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“Do you own anything that’s not designed to fit into a boardroom environment?”
“Pink pajamas.”
“And now that no longer surprises me, but you can’t wear that for dinner, either.”
“Yes, I have some other clothes.”
“Good. Then I’ll have your things sent up.” He turned away, then stopped. “Hannah, try to relax. You can think of this as a vacation.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I DON’T take vacations.”
Eduardo turned at the sound of Hannah’s voice.
She was at the foot of the stairs, wrapped tightly in a black, knee-length dress, her blond hair loose for once, cascading over her shoulders in an elegant wave. She shifted, her expression tight, painted red lips pulled into a pucker.
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“I hear you don’t take them anymore, either.”
He shook his head. “I’ve no inclination to. I often work from here.”
“Is it easier? Less distraction?”
He nodded slowly. He’d never really thought of it in those terms. He’d just thought he liked the quiet now, when before he’d thrived in the frenetic pace of the city. He’d enjoyed staying up late and getting up for work the next day. Had liked being surrounded by constant motion and high energy.
He didn’t now. He liked solace. Privacy. Order. When there was no order his brain was utter chaos. He’d realized and adjusted for that early on.
“I suppose so. Plus, it’s nice to avoid the stares. I’m the accident people can’t help but gawk at, after all. Rich playboy, victim of a horrible, unfortunate incident. The public very often enjoy seeing people brought down.”
“I don’t see you as being brought down. Things are just different, that’s all.”
Her words, spoken from tight lips, with stilted, stubborn confidence, did something to him. To his chest. His heart. It was strange. Hannah wasn’t looking at him with pity, far from it. She seemed to disdain him, but she also believed in him. Not out of obligation or caring, but because she simply did.
It was more valuable in some ways than the confidence shown him by his mother and sister. More valuable than he cared to acknowledge.
Are you so weak you need validation from a woman who would happily spit on you?
No. He wasn’t. He was Eduardo Vega, and someday, all of him would remember that. And what that meant.
He heard an engine, tires on gravel. “They’re here. Time to play loving couple.”
“And dodge verbal barbs,” Hannah grumbled, moving to stand next to him. She kept a thin line of space between their bodies. She didn’t want to touch him, and that bothered him.
Because she needed to, needed to be comfortable with him if they were to look like a reconciling couple.
He slid his arm around her waist and she stiffened for a moment before relaxing beneath his touch. “They still think our marriage was real, and they need to think it’s real now. Remember, we are deliriously happy to be back together.”
“We should write that down,” she whispered. “It keeps slipping my mind.”
“We can’t both start forgetting things, Hannah. We’ll be in serious trouble if neither one of us can remember what’s going on.”
He felt her frame jolt with shocked laughter.
“That’s better,” he said.
Hannah steeled herself for the invasion of Eduardo’s family. It wasn’t going to be easy, and why should it be? She’d lied to them. So had Eduardo. They both deserved a little contempt. Of course, she was the only one who would get any.
The door opened and Carmela walked in, followed by Selena. Both women were dressed in a flamboyant yet sophisticated manner, complete with gloves that extended to their elbows and hats with wide brims.
“Hola, Eduardo,” Selena said, striding forward. Eduardo released Hannah and leaned forward, embracing his sister.
When they parted, Selena eyed Hannah as if unsure of how to receive her or what to say. Hannah very much felt the same unease.
Carmela hung back.
“Hello,” Hannah said, calling on all of her nerve, wondering why it was hard. Why she cared. Normally, she could turn off fear, and embrace control. Could put on an easy, charming persona that made everyone feel at ease. Just like she could turn into a pit bull in business negotiations. She swallowed. “It’s good to see you again. I’m … pleased to be back. Pleased to be here with Eduardo and … both of you.”
Carmela nodded stiffly. “If he is happy to have you, then so are we. No more must be said on the subject. There will be no anger. Come, I am hungry.” She led the way into the dining area and Selena followed. Eduardo held back, and Hannah followed his lead.
“If she says she’s not going to be angry, she won’t be. You can unclench.”
Hannah let out a breath. “I’m sorry, I feel like a jerk. I can’t believe you’re making me do this to your family. Again. How do you look in the mirror?”
For a moment, Eduardo’s expression was unguarded, his dark eyes stripped of their shields. It was an expression of cold, deep fear. It was one she could relate to. The kind of fear that lived deep in her, waiting to wrap its icy hands around her throat at the first opportunity. The kind she ran from every day.
“It helps that I hardly recognize the man looking back at me,” he said, his voice rough. “I am doing what I must. I cannot fail.”
And she knew then, that this wasn’t about the media, but about him. About proving he was still who he used to be, even though it was so clear he wasn’t. The question he’d asked her in the car swam through her mind, made her stomach twist. His desire to understand who he’d been, to try and take himself back there.
To make himself something else.
But it echoed in her. She knew it. Understood it. Lived it every day. The need to be more than who she was. Although, while she was terrified she’d someday morph back into who she’d been, he was afraid he would never be the same.
“I will make sure you don’t,” she said, the vow coming from deep inside of her, from a core of emotion she hadn’t realized she still possessed.
He nodded once, wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her into the dining room.
Hannah sank slowly into the warm water of the in-ground hot tub, her knotted muscles protesting the attempt at forced release.
She was stressed. Stressed was a normal state for her so she was rarely aware of it, but she darn well was now. Dinner with Eduardo’s family had been difficult. Going to their room, knowing there would be much speculation had been even worse. Which was why, at eleven o’clock, she’d given up any hope of sleeping, even in her princess bed, and had dug in her bags until she’d produced her black, one-piece swimsuit.
She did need a vacation. But not here. Not with Eduardo. Not for the first time, she wondered about Zack. It was weird how much she didn’t miss him. She was starting to be thankful, really thankful, they hadn’t gotten married.
Still, she felt bad. She draped her arm over the edge of the hot tub and grabbed her phone, which was close by, as always. She fired off a quick message to him before she could think better of it.
It only took a few minutes for a message to ping back.
Fine. I’m with Clara.
Clara was Zack’s best friend and business partner.
Hannah had been, on a couple of occasions, slightly jealous of the other woman. She’d had a piece of Zack Hannah had never been able to tap into. A piece of him she hadn’t wanted to try and tap into, truth be told. Well, he’d taken Clara on their honeymoon, which was proof of how special she was to him.
Maybe … maybe it had turned into something more? She wasn’t usually a squishy romantic, but it really helped to think of Zack finding someone else. Someone better.
Are you having a good time?
It was inane and stupid to ask, but she did care. His reply came a moment later.
Better than I imagined.
She found herself smiling.
I hope you’re happy. Happier than you would have been with me.
She hesitated before hitting Send, then took a breath and pressed it.
A reply pinged back.
You be happy, too.
She laughed.
Okay.
She hit Send one last time and put the phone down. Happy. What was that anyway? She’d always thought of it as something she’d reach the farther away she got from Arkansas. The further away she got from the moment the nurses had whisked her baby from the room and handed him to another woman. That the more she made, the more status she gained, the closer it would bring her there. None of it ever seemed to be enough, though. She never seemed closer to happy.
“Do you ever sleep?”
Hannah turned to see Eduardo standing there, dressed in black swim shorts, his chest bare. She almost swallowed her tongue. He was the single most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Well-defined pecs, covered with a fine dusting of dark hair. His abs … she had the completely unbidden thought that it would be heaven to run her fingers over the ripple of muscle. Not just her fingers. Maybe her tongue, too.
Gah! Where had that come from?
“I don’t sleep much,” she said. Her thighs trembled a little bit when he took a step toward her and she realized, stupidly late, that he was probably planning on getting into the hot tub with her.
“Neither do I.” He rounded the hot tub and descended the steps, the water covering his muscular thighs, lean hips, up to his belly button. Not that she was watching with rapt attention. No.
She edged away, trying to put some distance between them, trying to do it subtly. “Yeah, well, I’m always on red alert. Thinking about all the things I have to do at work, stuff like that.”
“About your ex-fiancé?”
“Uh, funny you should mention him. I just texted him. He took another woman on our honeymoon so hopefully he’s doing all right.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“I actually know her. She’s a friend of his, so it could be platonic. But if not … well, I sort of hope it’s not. I want him to be happy.”
“And the idea of your ex-lover with another woman doesn’t … doesn’t make you angry?”
Hannah cleared her throat. “Zack was never my lover.”
To his credit, Eduardo’s face remained unreadable. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Yeah, I figured you would. That was why I never corrected you before. Frankly, I don’t really care what you think of it, but it is true.”
“Why is that?”
“Why weren’t we lovers?”
“Yes.”
“We weren’t in love. I didn’t want him to use me. So I figured if we waited on that until after the wedding … no danger.” It wasn’t entirely true, but she was hardly giving him the whole truth about her sex life. It wasn’t his business anyway.
“I don’t believe that, Hannah. You don’t seem like the sort of woman who could be used. You’re far too hard and savvy for that.”
She shrugged, her shoulders rising from the warm water, the night air biting them. “All right then, why do you suppose I didn’t sleep with him?”
“You like control too much. So making him wait gave you control.”
She rolled her eyes and leaned her head back. “You make it sound like I was leading him around by the—” She popped her head back up and met Eduardo’s mocking gaze. “I wasn’t. That wasn’t why. But yeah, maybe control a little bit. Just not like you mean it.”
“I understand control, Hannah, wanting it, going to great lengths to keep it. You hardly have to justify yourself to me.”
“I feel like I do when you look at me like that. It’s your superpower. I never justify myself to anyone. But with you, I do, a little bit.”
“Too bad it’s a superpower that’s of no use to me.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him. A big fake smile.
He sighed and sat down, draping his arms over the back of the hot tub. She was across the tub from him and she still felt hotter. Felt like she was way too close to him.
“So,” she said. “Did your mom say terrible things about me in those few minutes you hung back in the dining room with her?”
“No. She said she wants me to be happy. Just like she said in front of you.”
Hannah sighed. “She’s a better person than I am. I would hate me.”
“If someone did that to your son?”
Hannah’s heart dropped into her stomach. “I … I’ll never know. I don’t have a son. I don’t want children.” It sounded slightly panicked, and not the least bit cool. But she didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to get anywhere near the topic.
“So you’ve said.”
“Yes, well, I’m saying again.” And now she sounded defensive.
“Who hurt you, Hannah?” he asked, pushing off from the wall and walking to the middle of the tub. His chest gleamed in the light from the house, bronzed and muscular. He looked like the angel of death, trying to confront her with the thing she feared most.
“I already told you. My parents sucked.”
“But that’s not it, I think.”
He drew closer, knelt down in front of her, his eyes level with hers. “What happened?”
She couldn’t stand it. The concern on his face, in his tone. Couldn’t deal with the slow ache it caused in her heart. “Why the hell do you care? You won’t remember it twenty minutes after I tell you.”
His hand shot out, gripping the back of the hot tub; his eyes blazed with heat. Anger, certainly, and something else. The anger she could handle; it was the else that scared her.
He lifted his other hand, cupped her chin. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” she asked, jerking her face away.
“Why do you lash out? Is it when I get too close?”
“What? What does that mean?”
“You can be so pleasant, I’ve seen it. And then you can put all your shields up and go on attack. I think it’s when I start to get close to the truth. And it scares you.”
Yes, it scared her to her soul. She wanted to deny it, and she couldn’t, because she was trembling inside. But being angry was so much easier than being afraid. And pushing someone away was so much easier when she was being mean.
She pressed her back against the wall, trying to put some more distance between them. “Maybe I’m just not a nice person. Did you ever consider that?”
“I don’t think that’s the case. I’ve been accused of being a terrible, boring bastard the past few years. But I don’t think that’s your problem.”
“Maybe you just aren’t very good at reading people.”
He shook his head. “An interesting gift, or rather, strange side effect, of my injury. I do not surround myself with so much noise, so it seems I have more time, more of an ability to look closely at the people who are around me. You aren’t mean, Hannah. You’re afraid. The question is, what are you afraid of?”
Her heart was pounding, her body hyperaware of his nearness. She took a breath and pushed off from the wall, standing so that he was slightly beneath her. She put her hand on the back of his neck.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” she said, lying. Boldly. Her hands were shaking, her body was shaking. But she couldn’t let him win. Couldn’t let him see any wea
kness. Couldn’t let him see her.
He took his hand off the wall and put it on the small of her back, his fingers rough, hot against her skin. Steam rose between them and stirred when she breathed out.
“Is that so?” he asked.
In response she dipped her head, brushing his lips with hers. A hard zip of attraction punched her, deep in her core. He wrapped his other arm around her, his hand splayed between her shoulder blades. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned down, deepening the kiss as much as she could in her position.
Her brain was screaming that she was making a mistake. Walking into danger.
Her body was complaining that she wasn’t walking fast enough.
She’d been out to prove a point, but everything, the previous conversation, the reason behind her action, was shrouded in the mist that curled between them, that seemed to have wrapped itself around her mind, shielding her in a blessed haze where all that mattered was the feel of his hard body against hers, the feel of his mouth covering hers.
He lowered his hand slowly, cupping the curve of her butt, down to her thigh, tugging gently. She followed his lead, lowering herself so she was straddling his legs, the hard ridge of his arousal apparent, thick and tempting between them.
He pulled her hard against him and she let her head fall back as he kissed her neck, her collarbone. His mouth so hot on her wet skin, warming her where the night air had left her cold.
“Oh, yes,” she said, rocking against him, seeking out the pleasure she knew he could provide. Pleasure she knew would far surpass any sexual experience she’d had before.
She tightened her hold on him, claimed his mouth again, her tongue delving deep, his returning the favor, exploring, creating a delicious friction that made her internal muscles tighten.
She could lose herself in him. In this. Close out everything and embrace the passion. The moment. The need to have him deep inside of her, thrusting hard and deep, mirroring the action of his tongue.