“I’m fully aware of your situation. The cash from this place would allow you to live in luxury for the rest of your life. Think of the shopping sprees.” Warren noted with a gleam in his eye.
“It’s not for sale for any price.”
“Come on, baby. Remember who you’re talking to. I know all about your clothes habit, all the money you spend on those labels. There’s not much business for an interior designer on this island. Your parents left their money to a homeless charity and a worthless kids’ camp. That camp, by the way, sits on the best view property in the San Juans.”
“That camp isn’t worthless. It helps emotionally damaged kids discover alternatives to drugs and prison. Their programs are state-of-the-art and have a high success rate. My grandparents started it years ago. It’s been a part of this island ever since.”
“You don’t have to renew their lease.”
“Oh course, I will. I want them here.”
“Mariah, I’m prepared to offer you a fair price for this property. I suggest you take it.”
“Or what?” She snorted in disdain. “You have no leverage. This is my property. My aunt left it to me. I’m not selling.”
“You think you can afford the taxes on this place with the waterfront and view property?”
“I’ll find a way.” She didn’t have a clue how, but she would.
“This is my only offer, Mariah. I want this property, and I have the means to get it. You can take my offer and be in designer clothes the rest of your life, or you can end up with nothing.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Am I? Have you forgotten what an excellent attorney I am? You told me once I was ruthless and cruel. I like that sound of that—ruthless and cruel.” He bent down and kissed her, grinding his mouth across hers. Starting to panic, she struggled against him, freed her hands, and beat her fists against his chest.
He drew away. She slapped him so hard she left an imprint of her hand on his face. He touched the red mark on his cheek. His eyes blazed. She swallowed and braced herself for the worst. For a moment, she thought he was going to hit her. Instead, he moved away a few steps.
“You’re going to wish you’d been nicer to me.” He turned on his heel and stalked off.
Mariah slumped against the hay bales. Her body shuddered and her stomach threatened to relieve itself of breakfast. She felt cold, very cold, as she gathered her light jacket around her body and hugged herself.
*****
When Rico showed up for his lesson, two horses were saddled and ready. Mariah wore a pair of tight faded Levis, an old T-shirt, and well-worn cowboy boots.
As she brushed past him to bridle Sueño, Rico admired how her cute little butt filled out those jeans. He couldn’t recall when he’d seen her dressed in clothes without a designer label. Regardless, she looked great in anything, though nothing would be even better. In fact, Mariah wouldn’t look out of place anywhere he chose to take her. If he took her to a Hollywood party, she wouldn’t just blend in with the other glamorous women, she’d outclass them.
Of course, he wasn’t going to be taking Mariah to any Hollywood parties. In fact, he wasn’t thinking past the next two hours.
“What’s this?” He pointed at the two horses.
“We’re going for a ride in the woods, cowboy.”
“You trust me out of the arena?” He slanted a lopsided grin in her direction.
“I trust Sueño. He’ll take care of you. He likes you.”
“And if he didn’t like me…?”
“He’d dump you.” She kept face hidden from him.
“Oh.” Rico didn’t have a comeback for that. “I bet that could hurt.”
“Oh, yeah, it could hurt, especially if you landed on your butt. With that hard head of yours, you’d be fine if you landed on your head. The only time my former fiancé ever got on him, he bucked him off within sixty seconds face first into a pile of fresh horse manure.”
Rico started laughing, but Mariah didn’t join in. “I think Sueño has a sense of humor and a sense of justice.”
Mariah gazed at her horse. “I know he does.
Rico’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face. She seemed disconcerted, a little off. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled at him, but her eyes seemed sad. “I had an unpleasant surprise this morning, that’s all.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Let’s enjoy the day.”
He nodded in agreement. For now, he’d let it drop. Later, though, he’d get to the bottom of it.
Side by side, the horses walked at a leisurely pace through the woods. Their hooves drummed a slow, relaxing beat on the hard-packed dirt. The sun shone through the evergreen trees and left patterns of light on the old logging road. The birds chirped, while an offended squirrel scolded them for coming too close to his tree.
All seemed right with the world, at least their little corner of it. The trouble that had been weighing Mariah down seemed to have lifted.
They rode in comfortable silence, neither wanting to ruin the peace of the moment.
Rico shot a look at Mariah, catching her staring at him. He steered Sueño close to Mariah’s horse, Vella, until their knees touched. Reaching across, he planted a gentle kiss on her lips. His lips lingered on hers until the movement of the horses separated them. He felt comfortable and secure, like he belonged. He couldn’t remember ever feeling like that before.
“My beautiful Mariah,” he whispered. Her eyes captivated him and warmed his soul. The woman was a witch who cast spells on Spanish horses and Latin singers, at least, former Latin singers.
He touched her lips with his forefinger then drew back and straightened in the saddle. The tenderness in that simple gesture brought tears to her eyes. Her emotions played across her face. Her loving expression should have sent him running in the opposite direction. Instead, it pleased him. She was his woman, at least for the near future. Then he would leave. She would find someone else, and he’d go back to his real life. His gut clenched at the thought of her kissing another man. He knew—like he knew so many things about her—she had never kissed another man like she kissed him. Even worse, he never wanted her to do so in the future. Yet, he had no claim on her and didn’t want one. So what right did he have to think so possessively?
Rico frowned, irritated with himself. He’d been behaving like some lovesick fool, which he was not.
Mariah, sensing the change in his mood, looked away from his probing eyes and pushed her horse into a faster walk, putting distance between them. Rico let her go, bothered by his vulnerabilities.
They stopped in a small clearing. While Rico put halters on the horses and tied them to trees, Mariah spread out a blanket. She poured each of them a glass of wine and arranged sandwiches from the deli on two plates. Thank God, she hadn’t made them herself.
They ate in an easy silence, bathed in the soothing sounds of the woods and the earthy smell of fir needles. The woods hypnotized them and the wine erased some of her inhibitions.
Rico stretched out on the blanket.
Mariah made a move to clean up, but Rico stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Come here. Lie down with me. Relax.”
“You’re asking me to relax?” Her green eyes teased him.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Don’t you ever stop or slow down?”
“I am now.”
“For how long? Ten seconds? Then you’ll be up and about again.”
“Not if I have a good reason to stay right here.”
She bit her lower lip, as if considering something, took a deep breath, and dived in. “I’ll give you a reason.”
His eyebrows shot upward. “What do you have in mind?”
“On your stomach. Take off your shirt.”
Only a fool would wait for a second invitation. He yanked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Then he stretched out on the blanket and closed his eyes as she worked on the tight muscles
in his back. For an amateur, she had great feel. She coaxed and cajoled his stiff body until it bowed to her bidding and relaxed bit by bit. The tension poured out of him like water out of a pitcher. With a contented sigh, he let her touch work its magic and dozed off for several minutes. He woke to her hands stroking his hair.
Rico rolled onto his back. He pulled Mariah to him and positioned her so she straddled his body. His hand snaked around the back of her neck and tunneled under her long hair to stroke the soft skin underneath. Using gentle pressure, he lowered her head. His lips captured hers. Sucking them into his mouth, he caressed them with his tongue. She moaned and ground her hips against his. There was no sweeter sound on earth than a warm and willing woman moaning under a man’s touch. This woman was definitely warm. He suspected that willing wasn’t too far behind. Freeing her lips from his erotic ministrations, he twined his tongue with hers. The señorita had a few tricks of her own hidden up her sleeve. She invited his tongue into the soft recesses of her mouth, sucking gently on it. Her own tongue courted it in a sensual dance. Rico moaned into her mouth, as she curled her lips around his.
“Baby, oh God, baby.” He broke the kiss and pulled on her shirt. He didn’t want anything between them but skin.
She reached for him again. There was something desperate in her demeanor, as if she had something to prove.
He pushed her hands away. “Not yet.”
Rico grasped the bottom of her t-shirt in his hands and pulled upward. She raised her arms so he could take it off. He took his time, savoring each bare inch of creamy skin as it was revealed to him. Her gorgeous round breasts strained against her black lace bra, spilling over the top. One look at her naked skin, and his patience flew out the window. He stripped the t-shirt from her body.
She distracted him by placing her hands on his bare torso. Her red-tipped nails raked down his chest and across his nipples. Her hips slid downward until she sat on his thighs. Oh, yeah, babe, that’s it, keep going lower. Uh huh. Oh, man, don’t quit now.
She hesitated at his belt buckle. He took one hand and placed her palm on the bulge in his pants, expecting her to pull away. She didn’t. She kept her hand there. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lip. His pulse ran rampant, responding to her hand resting on his hardness. Afraid of turning blue from holding his breath, he forced air into his lungs.
“Touch me,” he rasped.
Mariah’s body shuddered involuntarily. “Why do you do this to me?” Her green eyes pleaded for mercy.
“Because you like it.” Rico didn’t have any interest in showing any mercy. “Unzip my jeans, amor.”
Like a woman in a trance, she touched his belt. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the buckle. After an eternity of torturous pleasure, she finally loosened it. Her hands lowered his zipper and eroded his control. In one swift motion he rolled her onto her back and switched positions. She stared up at him in shock and surprise. Reaching for her hand, he stroked her palm. One long finger traced a path from the inside of her wrist and up her arm.
“You’re torturing me.”
“Yeah, it’s sweet, isn’t it?” His voice was raspy, husky. Served her right, the teasing wench. “You keep coming back for more. I’m not holding you captive.”
His long finger moved to her shoulder. Mariah held her breath as it traveled slowly downward again and across her breast where he hesitated briefly then down lower to her stomach, to her thighs.
“I could do this with my lips.” Rico’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Then why don’t you, cowboy?” The glimmer in her eyes challenged him. The woman was doing some torturing of her own. Damn. He loved it when she challenged him like that.
The sound of her soft voice, husky with desire, drove every fiber of his being into instant lust. His hands journeyed upwards, pausing briefly to circumnavigate her nipples through the bra. He slid her bra straps off her shoulders, not yet baring her breasts. His mouth nuzzled her neck and his stubble rasped against her collarbone. Hovering over her, he rubbed his erection against her crotch. She moaned and arched toward him. He kissed her, letting her feel all the hunger imprisoned in his body. His other hand slid down and found the button on her Levis. Unsnapping them, he tugged on the zipper. The damn thing was stuck. He tugged harder, feeling almost frantic. A warm, and now willing, woman was wriggling beneath him, tormenting him with her partially naked body, and he was arguing with a zipper. He’d expected resistance but not from her jeans.
Slipping through his lust-induced fog, his mind warned him that they were being watched. He ignored that pesky feeling, but it became stronger until he had to acknowledge it. Ever worried about reporters, he dragged his lips away from Mariah’s.
Sueño’s big nose hovered less than a foot from his face, so close that he smelled his horse breath. Trying Eva’s horse communication methods of visualization, Rico imagined cans and cans of dog food. Hopefully, this equine intruder would receive one of the images. You wanna end up in a can, Buddy? You’re pushing it.
Sueño flattened his ears, as if he understood the human’s words. He snorted at Rico, opened his large mouth, rolled his eyes, and coughed loudly. Green horse snot laced with chewed up pieces of grass blew in all directions. The majority of it landed on Rico’s face, in his hair, and on his chest. Disgusted beyond belief, Rico yelped and leaped back. Mariah, not realizing what happened, jumped to her feet. Her panic turned to laughter when she saw his face. Rico desperately wiped it off with his t-shirt, swearing loudly in Spanish.
Mariah readjusted her bra, pulled on her shirt, and buttoned her jeans. She smoothed her mussed hair. The magic of the moment was lost.
Rico glared accusingly at Sueño whose head was now stuck in between the two of them as if he’d been invited to join their little picnic. “I thought you were tied up.” Great, now she had him talking to horses. Sueño regarded Rico with a curious expression, as if he didn’t have a clue what all the commotion was about.
“Did I mention to you that he can untie himself?” Mariah started picking up their things, letting him know that he wasn’t going to get a second chance in this meadow.
“Great timing. I thought I was gonna get a little.”
“Actually, cowboy, you were just about to get a lot. Better luck next time.” She spun around and flounced off to get her horse.
Rico stared after her, stunned and speechless.
Chapter Ten—Friday Harbor
A worrier by nature, Mariah had learned over the years to suppress her inclinations and adopt her Scarlett attitude. Unfortunately, Warren’s appearance and his subsequent threats were a little more than even she could block. It’d take a large distraction to purge Warren from her mind.
That distraction came in the form of an overnight boat trip to Friday Harbor with her Latin flame. She had one stipulation—separate staterooms. Rodrigo didn’t like the arrangement but agreed to her terms.
Besides, she didn’t want to stay in that big old house by herself in case Warren was still on the island. His uninvited visit frightened her so much she couldn’t seem to think straight. That was the only explanation for her earlier out-of-character behavior. She’d needed Rodrigo’s closeness and comfort, and whether he knew it or not, his protection.
After a pleasant cruise to Friday Harbor, they tied up to the guest dock early in the evening and didn’t drown any dock boys in the process.
In keeping with her princess image, Mariah took over the master stateroom on Max’s yacht. Done in subtle beiges and rich teak, a queen-sized bed dominated the middle of the room. The headboard rested against the aft bulkhead. A teak door opened to a small head with a vanity and shower.
Mariah stuffed both closets and all the drawers with enough clothes for a week instead of a night. In the Northwest, you never knew what kind of weather you’d get from one hour to the next. She’d packed clothes to cover all the bases. Old Man Weather wouldn’t be able to pull a fast one on her, but then he rarely did when it came to clothes.
One by one, she tried everything on again. She kept coming back to the hooker dress—suitable for salsa dancing if you were a bad girl, completely unsuitable if you were a good girl. She’d thrown it in her suitcase at the spur of the moment. Now, she regretted that lapse in her common sense. The stupid thing kept calling to her, tempting her to take a walk on the wild side.
She’d bought it last year at a trendy boutique, as shopping therapy, shortly after she’d broken off her engagement. A bargain on sale, it looked so good on her she couldn’t resist it. It made her feel daring and rebellious, but having the guts to buy it and having the guts to wear it were two different things.
Rodrigo tapped on the door. “Mariah, what are you doing in there? It’s almost 8:00. Let’s get going, or we won’t get a seat.” He sounded exasperated.
Mariah sighed, staring at the myriad of dresses strewn all over the bed. The moment of truth crashed down upon her like a fly swatter on a fly. Wear the man-killer dress, and she all but sealed her fate for the night. Sex was written all over that dress in BIG, BOLD letters. She’d be branded the worst kind of tease in her own mind if she didn’t put out after subjecting him to that dress.
She chewed on a fingernail and fingered the slinky material. She needed to get beyond her fears and learn to be a confident woman. If she couldn’t enjoy sex with Rodrigo, chances were she’d never enjoy it with anyone.
That was the problem.
Before she lost her nerve, she slipped the hooker dress over her head. She kept her back to the mirror until she pulled and tugged the tight little number into place. Turning slowly, she studied her reflection with the critical eye of a woman who made her living in design. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the sexy vamp in the mirror. That stranger couldn’t be her. She’d overdone it. She couldn’t go through with this. She couldn’t be something she wasn’t. And this she wasn’t.
Contemporary Nights Volume One Page 60
