“Even if I believe you—which I don’t—don’t try to pretend you didn’t want to have your fun like the rest of your buddies. If not, then why were you there in the first place? You expect me to believe you were just standing around, all innocent, just looking? They had to block out parts of the photos because some of those women didn’t have any clothes on!”
“Rebekah—”
“Those pictures were horrible. Everyone knew. It was humiliating.”
He heard the tremor in her voice, could see the pain in her dark brown eyes. “If I could change what happened, I would,” he said, the muscles in his throat clenched tight with regret. “I’ve never forgiven myself for hurting you.”
* * * *
She could see the regret in his face at what they had lost. She felt it, too, and her heart broke all over again. Perhaps his actions years ago weren’t as callous and uncaring as she’d originally thought. She had been so hurt when the tabloid story came out, knowing her husband was in those photos. She had worried about him and the fighting, missed him so much when he traveled, yet it seemed he hadn’t missed her at all. He had been too busy partying with the other wrestlers and the slew of women who followed them around.
“We have to figure out a way to get along,” he said. “At least for Ricardo’s sake.”
“I know.” Talking about the pain of the past had drained her.
He reached out and touched her hair.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a panic-stricken voice. She couldn’t get away from him. She was more or less blocked in by the refrigerator to her right and his muscular arm to the left.
“Piece of lint,” he responded, showing her. “You seem…what is the word…skittish?”
Her heart rate started a steady acceleration. “You’re too close, and it’s making me uncomfortable. Would you step back?”
Rapid fluttering like that of tiny butterflies settled in the pit of her stomach. How could she want him when she still bore the wounds of their ruined marriage?
“Why would you be uncomfortable? I’m not uncomfortable around you.”
“You’re not the one crowded against the kitchen counter by a giant wrestler.”
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly in an amused smile before he stepped back. In an ironic reversal, she missed his closeness. A knowing smile stretched fully across his face. He considered her with a long, appraising look.
“What?”
“Do you really like him?”
“I think we need to continue our conversation about boundaries, and we should include respecting each other’s privacy.”
“I have nothing to hide.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then tell me about Deacon Carlton.”
“No.” She and Carlton had never been intimate. Because of his position in the church, he remained celibate.
“I just want to know about my competition.”
Rebekah swallowed, apprehension settling in her gut. “There is no competition. Our marriage is over.”
“It’s not over until the papers are signed. Until then, you’re still my wife.”
“Don’t remind me. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
“So you can rush off to the good deacon?”
“I won’t ask you about your affairs, so don’t ask me about mine!” She only took one step before he grabbed her arm and hauled her back around to face him.
The hard collision with the wall of his chest knocked the air from her lungs. She put up a hand to push away from him, but his arm entwined around her waist like a steel brace and trapped her against him. Everywhere they touched, warmth seeped from his body into hers.
Her gaze shifted to his sensuous mouth when he lowered his face toward her. Her nose recognized and welcomed his masculine smell.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he said. His calm voice held a threatening undertone. “There will be no ‘affairs.’ While you’re my wife, no one comes near you.”
“I think—”
“Do not try me, Rebekah.” His face became a hardened mask of anger. “Unless you have a pressing desire to see every bone in the good deacon’s body broken—or any other man, for that matter—I suggest you give him a call and make sure he understands your relationship is over until further notice. If you don’t call him, I will, and he won’t like my conversation.”
A frisson of apprehension snaked down her spine at the threat, but she couldn’t deny also feeling a trickle of excitement at his possessiveness. He was as big and strong as an ox and capable of successful follow-through on his words.
“I’ve already talked to Carlton about it and he understands.” She surprised herself with her next words. “That goes for you, too, by the way. You’re still my husband, so make sure the groupies know to stay away from you.”
A gleam of satisfaction entered his eyes. “I’m glad we understand each other,” he said. “And another thing—if Ricardo needs anything, you come to me. If you need anything, you come to me.” His fingers spread out across her back, heating her skin through the material of the dress. “If we’re both staying away from groupies and deacons, what do we do in the meantime to satisfy our needs?”
He was calm and composed, while his touch wreaked havoc with her senses, dragging her under the tide of his sensual influence. She shouldn’t—couldn’t want him.
“I couldn’t care less what you do.” Any minute now, he would look down and see she was a liar, see the way her nipples strained against the soft cotton of her bodice. “Use your hand, for all I care.”
“Hmm. Doesn’t have the same appeal.”
“Rafe,” she warned. She tried to ease out of his embrace, but found her efforts thwarted by his brute strength. “All right, you’ve proven your point. You’re stronger than me. You can let me go now.”
“Maybe I’m not done proving my point, ángel,” he drawled. The sensuous sound of his voice tugged at her heartstrings.
He lowered his head in one swift motion and took her mouth, startling and arousing her at the same time. He cradled the back of her head in his palm, and her anger dissipated like morning fog in the first rays of sunlight. Her fingers curled into his powerful arms as he bent her over his arm. Teasing teeth tugged the sensitive flesh of her lower lip until she could no longer bear it and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck to urge a fuller exploration.
His expert tongue delved between her lips, stroking the sensitive cavern of her mouth to elicit a moan of burgeoning desire from the back of her throat. The taste of him was intoxicating, flooding her taste buds with a flavor that far surpassed the memories she’d tucked away in the deep recesses of her mind.
When Rafael slipped his hand over the curve of her breast and shaped the soft flesh, a shudder coursed through her. In the back of her mind, she knew she should be stronger than this, but she’d always been weak for him. Nothing had changed.
“Let me suck your nipples,” he murmured.
Not waiting for a response, he lowered the straps of her dress and pushed her plump, swollen breasts to sit over the top of the bodice. On a groan, he lowered his head and pulled one dark nipple into his mouth. She gasped, the sharp jolt of pleasure that rushed through her echoing between her legs. He shifted from one breast to the other, focused, licked, stroked with his thumb until her shallow breathing filled the air between them.
She should stop him, but she couldn’t. She arched her body, anxious to get more. The escalating ache almost unbearable, her fingers trailed through the dark, silky hairs on his head.
Weakened from the sensual maneuvers of his mouth, Rebekah let her head loll back.
The tip of his tongue traced the column of her throat and left a trail of moist heat in its wake. When he reclaimed her lips, she could do nothing but kiss him back and take the pleasure he offered. He kissed her long, hard, and thoroughly, holding her tight, crushing her bare breasts against his chest. Her sensitive nipples rubbed against his white polo shirt while his large
hands smoothed down her back and molded the curves of her hips and buttocks, heightening the sexual demands of her body.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, her quickened breath skated across her tingling lips as he watched her from his superior height. In the intimacy of the moment, she felt bare and vulnerable.
His blazing gaze locked with hers. “From now on, those nipples belong to me, and I’m the only one who gets to suck them.” She trembled, aching from the raw sexuality of his words. “Anything you need,” he reiterated, his accent thicker now, his sculpted lips just inches away, his voice raspy from the same hunger that coursed through her veins, “you come to me. Anything.”
She didn’t miss the innuendo, nor did she miss the excited leap of her heart. His touch and his words made her wish for, want, need what she’d lived without for years. Him. All of him.
It scared her. He had been her world. She had abandoned her family for him.
She pushed away from him and he released her. She staggered back and braced her hand against the counter. Her body ached to be filled in the same way he had filled her mouth.
After righting her dress, she met his gaze when she could speak. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she said past swollen, quivering lips.
“You can deny it, but there’s still something between us.” The husky velvet tones of his voice moistened her already damp panties even more.
“There was always something between us, but it wasn’t enough.” There was no point in denying the message her body conveyed loud and clear. Her swollen nipples were still achy and clamored to get back into his mouth. “We can’t go back, and sleeping with each other is not the answer.”
“It’s not the answer to our past problems, but it might help us get through the coming months during the divorce.”
His suggestion was ridiculous. How could they have sex while trying to iron out a divorce? Sex would muddy the waters and cloud their judgment—hers, at least.
“What you’re suggesting is not a good idea.”
His gaze dipped to the front of her dress, surveying the proof of the passion that still existed between them. His lingering gaze had the same effect as a caress. Her nipples tightened in longing.
“I think you should leave.” The whispered words were a struggle to get out. She needed to regroup.
“You should think about it, mi ángel.” He trailed a finger down her cheek.
Rebekah turned away from his touch. “Go. Please.”
She had to get him out of there. The maelstrom of feelings swirling through her could not be analyzed in her current state.
At first, she thought Rafael wouldn’t leave. He remained standing just within reach, watching her, the heat from their fervent caresses weighing heavy on the air. Then, without another word, he left the kitchen.
She followed him into the foyer.
“Rafe.” He glanced back, his hand on the doorknob. “You know it’s over between us, don’t you? This was just a slip up. There’s no chance of anything happening between us again. Ever.”
His enigmatic expression didn’t change. “Good night, Rebekah.”
She stared at the closed door. The reverberations of her heart shook her entire body. She touched a finger to her tingling lips.
Had those words been meant to convince him, or her?
Chapter Eight
Ricardo jumped up from the chair at the kitchen table and dropped his cereal bowl in the sink. He bolted from the kitchen before the doorbell could ring a second time. Rebekah picked up her purse and walked with a more leisurely pace toward the front door.
“Buenos días, mijo,” Rafael said, smiling down at his son.
“Buenos días,” Ricardo returned.
“I’ll see you later,” Rebekah said, reaching down to drop a kiss on her son’s cheek and receive one from him in return.
She was on her way to the attorney’s office, and they were on their way to the barber. Since Ricardo had asked, first thing this morning, to have Rafael take him for a haircut—no doubt prompted by the sight of his father’s closely cropped hair—she had called his father to see if he could take Ricardo to the barber while she went to her appointment and ran other errands.
“Red looks good on you,” Rafael commented. His gaze rested at the V-neckline just above the top button of her silk blouse.
“Every color looks good on Mom.”
“I think you’re right,” Rafael said.
Heat suffused her cheeks. “Thank you, sweetie.”
She saw the amusement in Rafael’s eyes. He was having a good time with her discomfort. She had tossed and turned most of the night, dwelling on his kisses and the strokings of his tongue across her breasts. She had considered taking a cold shower, but at some point, exhaustion had taken over, and she awoke when Ricardo came into her room this morning. At least there were no telltale bags under her eyes.
“I’ll be back by four,” she said to Rafael.
“We’ll be back soon after,” he promised.
The three of them exited the house.
* * * *
The law office of Buchanan, Rothstein, and Hoyt, located in the trendy, commercial district of Midtown, was decorated in muted tones of off-white and gray. Attorney Sterling Buchanan was fifteen minutes late for their meeting. Glancing at her watch, Rebekah hoped he hadn’t forgotten their last minute appointment.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, she heard his deep voice.
“Bekah,” he said, referring to her by the nickname he’d heard her older brother call her. “Sorry I’m late.” He walked over, and when she stood up, he gave her a hug. “How’ve you been?”
He smiled down at her fondly. Handsome, with light mocha skin, a goatee, and mesmerizing eyes, Sterling was a dream. It was no wonder she’d had a crush on him from the age of twelve until she met Rafael.
“I’ve been better,” Rebekah admitted.
Sterling ushered her into his office and waved her into one of the guest chairs. Once seated behind his large desk, he said, “Tell me what’s going on.”
Rebekah provided a detailed history of her marriage and everything she knew about the botched divorce. When she finished, she posed the question uppermost in her mind. “How long will it take to get the divorce?”
Sterling tapped his forefinger on his desk calendar. “It’s hard to say. An uncontested divorce would take about two months. Your situation is complicated by a couple of factors that could draw out the length of the proceedings.”
“What factors are those?” Rebekah asked with a sinking feeling.
“Ricardo, for one. Whenever there’s a child involved, it complicates matters. Custody and visitation will have to be worked out. Then there’s the issue of assets. Your husband’s a wealthy man.”
She nodded. “Yes, I know, but I don’t want anything from him. Not for me, anyway. I’m sure Rafe will want to provide for Ricky, though.”
Sterling shrugged. “Still, your husband is a California resident and you’re a resident of Georgia. The first order of business is to get him to sign a waiver of jurisdiction so the divorce can be handled here. That shouldn’t be a problem. His attorney will advise him it’s preferable to handling the case in California. He stands to lose a lot more if they do.”
“What’s next?”
“I’ll get in touch with his attorney. By the way, this is on the house.” He smiled.
“No, I can’t ask you to do that. I can pay you.”
“Adam’s practically a brother, so by extension, you’re my sister, too. I know this is a tough situation you’re in.”
Rebekah sighed. “Thanks. I can’t believe something like this could happen.”
“You’d be surprised how often it does.” Rebekah’s eyebrows raised. “It’s true. Courts screw up all the time. Clerks make mistakes, especially when they’re overwhelmed. Judges sometimes don’t sign documents in a timely fashion, which means we have to redo filings we’ve already made. Our paralegals spend a lot of time doing foll
ow up. You should go sit in at Superior Court some time and watch the chaos.” A pained expression came over his face.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Rebekah slung her purse over her shoulder. “Are you sure about doing this at no charge?”
“I’m sure. If the two of you want to end this marriage and can come to an agreement about Ricardo, I don’t see a problem. I just need his attorney’s name to get the ball rolling, and everything will be wrapped up before you know it.”
* * * *
As Rebekah drove her car under the carport, Rafael’s SUV pulled into the driveway. Her son ran up to her when she got out of the car.
“Mom, how do I look?”
It was amazing how much Ricardo looked like his father with the new haircut. When Rafael walked up behind him, the resemblance was astounding. Gray eyes, high cheekbones, and a broad forehead figured prominently in the similarities.
“Very handsome.” Rebekah touched his cheek and he grinned broadly up at her.
“Check this out.” He lifted a handheld video game toward her. “Dad bought it for me. Can I show it to my friends?”
“Neat,” she said, having no clue what she was looking at. “Yes, you can go show your friends your new toy.”
“Cool!” She watched him run across the street in the cul-de-sac and knock on the door. Her neighbor answered and waved at her before letting Ricardo in.
“He has a lot of energy,” Rafael remarked.
“Did you find it hard to keep up?”
Their eyes met and his piercing gaze held hers. “Not at all. I have a lot of energy too.”
Awareness sizzled between them at the deliberate words.
Rebekah cleared her throat. “Well, thank you for taking him to the barber for me.” She turned to go.
At the front door, his deep voice sounded close behind her. “Mind if I come in for a few minutes?”
Rebekah whirled in his direction. She thought she’d left him in the driveway. “I…don’t think—”
“I’ll only come in for a few minutes.”
Last night made her realize she treaded on dangerous ground with Rafael. His proximity made her very aware of the height of his frame, the breadth of his shoulders, and each sinewy piece of bronze muscle she could see.
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