by Lucy Monroe
"That's so easy to say now."
"It's true, damn it." His big body vibrated with intensity. "I wanted to call, to apologize, but I couldn't remember your name."
"Like that's supposed to make me feel better?"
He glowered at her. "I planned to come back to Vegas and find you. I wanted to apologize."
"Right." But could it be true? She so desperately wanted it to be true, but then she gave herself a mental kick. What difference would an apology have made? He wasn't saying he had planned to come back and try to establish a relationship or something. "I don't need your remorse."
"But I am sorry, honey. I'm sorry I left you still sleeping in my bed. I'm sorry I can't remember anything. I'm s—"
"Apology accepted. Now will you just let me leave?" She couldn't stand one more sorry.
He shook his head. "You're not being rational right now, Fayre."
"I'm being perfectly sensible. We both made a mistake, and the most rational thing to do now is to rectify that mistake. Which we'll do tomorrow at the Puerto Vallarta courthouse."
His hand snaked out, and before she realized what was happening, he'd unlocked her car door, popped her trunk, gone around to it and bent down to rummage inside. When he stood up, he had her suitcase, her makeup bag and other sundry items belonging to her.
"What do you think you are doing?"
"We need to talk."
She rolled her eyes. "Stealing my suitcase isn't going to make me talk to you."
"Isn't it?"
He banged the trunk shut, closed her car door and put the keys in his pocket.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you really think you can blackmail me into talking to you?"
He didn't even bother to answer. He just started walking back to the boat. He'd turned the corner around the taverna before she let it sink in that he really had no intention of even discussing his incredibly irrational behavior.
She realized something else at the same time. Without her car keys and the stuff Colton had confiscated from her trunk, she couldn't go anywhere. She barely had enough money in her pocket to buy herself dinner; she definitely didn't have enough to get one of those rooms above the taverna.
Of course, she could always tell them to bill Colton.
Only the thought of going back into that smoke-filled room made her nauseous, and she really didn't want another run-in with the local male population.
But she'd be darned if she was going to tamely follow Colton to his boat like a pet dog or something.
If he could be stubborn, so could she.
She sat down in the dirt on the side of the car that was in the shade. It wasn't the side facing the road that led around the taverna, but she had no intention of watching for him like some lovesick teenager anyway.
He'd figure out soon enough that his little game wasn't going to work, and he'd come back.
She'd just have to wait him out.
Twenty minutes later, she smiled to herself when a shadow longer than her car fell over her. It hadn't taken him very long to figure out she wasn't budging. She schooled her features into an unemotional mask before looking up. He wasn't the type of man that would respond well to gloating when he was beaten and might feel the need to prove himself.
She didn't get a chance to say anything gloating or otherwise because he bent over and picked her up just like he had when she'd suffered morning sickness in the bar.
And darned if she didn't feel just as safe as she had then.
It was an illusion. She knew it was, but still, the feeling persisted.
"What do you think you are doing?"
"Kidnapping you."
Chapter Six
He said it so calmly that she didn't get the meaning of his words right off. When she did, she about choked on her own breath.
"What do you mean? Kidnapping me? You can't do that."
"I'm doing it." He said it with irritating complacence.
"You can't." Okay, maybe he could, since he was carrying her toward his boat without the least difficulty. But he couldn't get away with it. "I'll go to the police. I'll press charges."
He looked down at her, and it was only then that she realized he wasn't nearly as calm as he was putting on. "We're in rural Mexico, Fayre. You're my wife, no matter how you want to look at it. As far as the local police are concerned, this wouldn't even rate typing up the complaint. They'd laugh you right out of their office."
She said something really foul, and he smiled a not very nice smile.
"Exactly. Accept it. We are going to talk. We are not going to file for divorce tomorrow, and you are going to take a lot better care of yourself than you've been doing."
"Kidnapping is not taking care of me." She couldn't believe she had to point that out.
"It is when you're intent on being self-destructive."
"Self-destructive was marrying you. Divorce is me waking up and finally getting a little self-protective."
"Are all pregnant women this illogical?"
"I am not illogical."
"You are when you try to imply that divorcing the father of your child before you even discuss options is the smart thing to do. It's not."
"You are not my husband!" He couldn't remember the marriage, therefore it was null and void in her mind.
"I have a marriage certificate that says I am."
"You have…"
"It was in your trunk, sitting on top of some other papers. I grabbed it along with your passport and money."
"Larceny is a crime."
"What's mine is yours, baby, and vice versa. I can't steal from you because you're my wife."
"So, you're saying if I went down to the bank and withdrew all the money in your checking account, that wouldn't be stealing?"
"As soon as we get this little issue of divorce worked out, I'll take you to the bank myself and put you on my account."
"You're crazy." No way was he going to put a virtual stranger on his accounts. He owned his own mining company. "You're rich, for goodness' sake. I could drain your accounts and take off."
"You won't." He said it with such authority she called him crazy again.
"No, crazy was leaving you alone in that bed and running away like a scared adolescent."
They had reached the boat, and he carried her on board. "Do you want to sit in the pilot house with me, or would you rather rest in the cabin?"
"You're not listening to anything I say," she accused.
"I'll listen if you tell me which you'd prefer. I promise."
"I don't want to be on this boat at all."
"Don't worry. The ride to Luna Island isn't that long. Are you worried you'll get sick again?"
"If I do, I'm going to throw up on your shoe."
He looked singularly unworried by that threat. "Then I'll have to hope you don't get sick, won't I?"
His scent was getting to her, so was that tone of voice. It wasn't just reasonable. It was indulgent. He talked to her and looked at her as though she was something, someone … to be cherished.
"I know it's all a ruse, so don't think you're going to fool me."
"What, angel?"
She stiffened at the endearment, but since he was neither drunk, nor under the influence of overwhelming passion, she couldn't accuse him of not knowing what he was saying.
"You don't care about me. I'm just a duty to you, me and my baby."
His smile was even more indulgent and tender than his voice had been. "You're too beautiful and sexy to be a mere duty to anyone."
She harrumphed, and he kissed the tip of her nose.
"It's true, and believe me when I tell you, I'll never look at our child as anything but our child. Not a duty, not an embarrassment and never a mistake."
His expression had turned serious again, his eyes boring a message into her that she was terrified of believing.
She'd been let down too many times in the past.
Most recently by this very man.
She had to remember
that, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on how he'd hurt her. He seemed so intent on fixing it.
Colton carried Fayre's things to the house he'd been using as a base while excavating for lithium on Luna Island.
It was far enough away from the rest of his employees and their operation to afford some privacy, but it wasn't so far that Fayre couldn't make the trip easily walking.
Not that she would have balked at climbing a mountain or anything. The woman had no concept of what it meant to be in a delicate condition. As feminine and sweet as she was, she did not see herself as delicate in any way. Incredible. She had this amazing belief she could handle anything.
Which had resulted in her driving all the way to rural Mexico from Vegas by herself. He got chills every time he let himself think of everything that could have happened to her on that drive. He could only thank God none of it had.
They climbed the steps to the porch and walked inside the cool interior of the house; all the while their silence remained unbroken. Fayre hadn't said much on the boat ride over either. She'd pretty much sat there, looking out over the water, her expression pensive, her posture tense.
Not that he could blame her for being tense. He'd kidnapped her, for heaven's sake.
What had he been thinking?
That he didn't want her driving to Puerto Vallarta and filing for a divorce, that's what.
So, he'd committed the most irrational act of his life and kidnapped a woman.
He stopped in the doorway to one of the guest bedrooms his brothers used when they came to confer with him over findings. "You can sleep in here."
"Is this your room?" For such a sweet woman, she sure could sound mean.
"No." He gestured down the hall with his head. "I'm down there. Second door on your right."
"If your sister-in-law never lived here, how did this house get built?"
So he'd told her about the island belonging to Phoebe? He wondered what else he'd told Fayre. It had been enough for her to believe she knew him sufficiently well to marry him. It had been enough to make her trust him.
She sure as hell did not trust him now, and it was his own damn fault.
He'd walked out on her the morning after, and even if he hadn't remembered their marriage, he'd known they'd gone to bed together.
"Colton?"
He realized he'd never answered her question, but stood there like a simpleton in the doorway of her temporary room. "Phoebe's great uncle liked to vacation here. He had the house built a couple of decades ago. It doesn't have air-conditioning, but the high ceilings and fans in every room keep things pretty cool."
"It's surrounded by trees. Do any of the rooms get direct sunlight?"
"No." It had taken some getting used to at first, but he'd come to appreciate that idiosyncrasy in architecture pretty quickly as the temperatures rose.
She sidled past him into the room and stopped to look around. "It's like the inside of a California mission."
He looked at the simple furniture, the whitewashed adobe walls, and had to agree. "Will you be all right in here?"
Her gaze shifted to the doorway to her private bathroom, and she nodded. "I'll be fine."
"Are you still mad?"
The words had just slipped out. Stupid question. Of course she was still angry. Twentieth-century women did not take to being kidnapped.
She shrugged, her movement almost defensive when she had nothing to be defensive about. He was the one who'd done the reprehensible. Even knowing that, he'd do it again rather than let her climb into her little green car and drive out of his life.
"I was being irrational." She sighed, sounding tired. "We do need to talk. I'm not saying I appreciate the strong-arm tactics, but I'm not going to hold a grudge."
He reached out and brushed her cheek. Her skin was so soft. "You're an amazing woman."
She went completely still, her attention fixed wholly on him.
He let his hand slide down to cup her shoulder. It was getting harder and harder not to touch her in a much more intimate way. He wanted to kiss her, to ravish her senses and relive the dreams that tormented his sleeping hours.
"Do you want to take a nap or anything before dinner?"
She blinked and then looked away. "I'd like to take a shower."
"Okay." He dropped his hand from her shoulder and went to put her stuff on the wooden chest at the end of the bed. "The water in the taps has gone through a distillery, so it's safe to drink or brush your teeth."
"That's good to know."
"Are you feeling all right?" Reluctant to leave, he looked for any excuse to stay.
"I'm not queasy anymore. Maybe the jog earlier calmed my stomach."
"It was more like a dash." He still had not recovered from the sight of his pregnant wife sprinting away from him. "I didn't mean to make you run."
"It wasn't your fault." Biting her lip, she looked at him with an appeal he did not know how to answer. "I overreacted to the reminder that I'd been a sober fool while you'd just been a drunk one."
So, that was what had upset her so much.
"I don't think you were a fool. I think you showed a lot of courage, then and now."
When she started shaking her head, he planted his hands on both of her shoulders and pulled her to him. "Shh. You took a chance on me, on what I promised you, and then you took a chance on coming down here. I'm not great on taking chances like that. I'll go into hostile territory to mine, but emotional commitment scares the hell out of me." Her emerald green eyes widened.
"Fayre, I don't understand what's happening between us, but I know I can't let you go. I dream about you every night. We make love over and over again in my imagination. I couldn't see your face, and that drove me insane. I would have come looking when I got a break down here."
She shook her head again, her mouth opening, but no sound coming out.
"I don't expect you to believe me right off, but I do expect to convince you."
He tipped her hat off her head, remembering how the bill had jabbed his face when he'd kissed her earlier. She hadn't noticed, but he'd been forced to change his angle, and he didn't want anything in the way this time.
"Are you going to kiss me again?"
"Will it make you mad if I do?"
"I'll probably end up in bed with you, and then I'll feel stupid all over again."
She hadn't said she'd be angry with him, so he started to lower his head. "You don't need to feel stupid. I won't seduce you right now."
She licked her lips, and his heartbeat started pounding against his rib cage. "Promise?"
He'd promise her anything if she would just let him kiss her. "Yes."
"Then kiss me, Colton. Please."
He let his head lower the remaining inches until their mouths met, but he didn't take her lips hostage like a marauding Viking this time.
He wanted to savor her taste, the feel of her soft lips, her scent that was so different from his own.
Her lips parted on a gentle sigh, and he sent his tongue into her mouth on a slow, lazy glide.
She moaned softly, her hands coming up to grip his shirt in two tight fists. He cuddled her into his body, wrapping her up against him like the treasure she was.
He'd never enjoyed kissing a woman as much as he liked kissing Fayre. Except in his dreams, and now he knew they were about her, too.
Her soft breasts pressed against him, their nipples hardened into tight points that challenged his self-control.
"You're so sweet." He said the words into her mouth and then slanted his over hers again, preventing her from replying.
He kissed her for as long as he could without stripping her naked and taking her up against the wall.
He broke his mouth away and forced himself to step backward. "You'd better take your shower, angel."
She might not believe it, but she was the only angel he wanted.
She swayed when he let go of her, so he grabbed her shoulders again and led her to the bathroom. When s
he did nothing but stand there and continue to stare at him with that glazed look in her eyes, he smiled.
He affected her and he liked it.
"Do you need some help getting undressed?"
"Maybe."
Shock sent his heart into overdrive, but he wasn't giving her a chance to change her mind. Tugging her T-shirt off over her head, he sucked in air when her breasts held in by only a silky white bra came into view.
She was beautifully made, his showgirl wife.
He didn't immediately remove her bra, but unbuttoned her crop pants and pushed them down her thighs. Bending down, he slipped her sandals off, leaving her in a white satin G-string and matching bra. Because he was there and her body was so close, he leaned forward and inhaled the scent that made her all woman. "Colton?"
He pressed his lips against the small white triangle of silk and kissed her there with something that felt like reverence. This woman was his.
Standing up, he gave himself the pleasure of simply staring at the view before him. Her hard nipples were visible behind the almost transparent satin of her bra, and the G-string left the long line of her sexy legs unbroken but for a tiny tantalizing ribbon. She shifted her feet, her thighs parting just a little, and he got a glimpse of chestnut curls, a shade darker than the hair on her head.
His heart about stopped and then tried to pound out of his chest. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."
Her soft green eyes shimmered with now familiar vulnerability. "Not as beautiful as Candy."
He was getting damn tired of her throwing the other woman in his face. "Way more beautiful than Candy."
"How would you know?"
"I remember her, and she has nothing on you. Angel, you just don't get it, but seeing you almost naked is like getting a sucker punch to the gut. I watched Candy dance all night and didn't even get a full boner."
Chapter Seven
"That's not true. You were…" Incredibly, she blushed. "You were fully erect when you came backstage and saw me."
"When I saw you." Did she get the emphasis? "I saw you for what, five seconds, and went hard like a cannon ready to shoot." A lot like he felt right now. Only today, the fuse was lit, and the cannon was loaded.