“But what choice do you have?” she murmured. “Where could you go, even if you were willing to run away again? You’re on an island, for heaven’s sake.”
Even if she could, she wouldn’t have run. Not again. Everyone made mistakes, she assured herself, but only really foolish people made the same ones over and over again.
Muttering, grumbling and trying to get a grip on her own skittering hormones, Teresa stepped out of the bedroom onto the flagstone terrace.
Instantly, the flower-scented breeze wrapped itself around her as it rattled the leaves on the surrounding trees, sounding like hushed whispers in the dark. At the edge of Rico’s property, the ocean sighed into shore, moonlight shimmering on the surface of the water. It was perfect. Dreamlike. She only wished she wasn’t too tense to enjoy it.
“Planning to run again?” Rico asked from behind her.
As she whirled around to face him, he continued, “There’s nowhere to go this time, Teresa. You can’t get off the island until I let you go.”
He was backlit by the room behind him and in his black clothes, with his black hair and his face in darkness…he looked like a shadow of doom. He wasn’t, though. Because ghosts or shades or whatever you wanted to call them didn’t give off heat as Rico did. Even from across the patio, she was dazzled by it.
“I wasn’t running,” she managed to say. “I was waiting.”
“For?” He stepped out of the bedroom and walked across the patio toward her. Moonlight shone in his eyes, but his luscious mouth was a grim line and his body language was anything but relaxed.
“I was waiting for you, Rico, and you know it,” she said. “I’ve been here. Alone. For two hours. Is making me wait part of the thrill for you?”
“Thrill?” He moved in so close, she instinctively took a step back. But the metal railing around the patio stopped her retreat and dug into the small of her back. “You think I’m enjoying this?”
“I think you’re loving it,” she told him as nerves gave way to the Italian temper her parents had gifted her with. “You had to wait five years, but you’re finally getting back at me.”
“Did you expect anything less?”
Had she? On those rare occasions when she’d allowed herself to imagine meeting Rico again, she’d never wondered what he’d say to her. What she could possibly say to him. Her imaginings had been more rich fantasies of desire and the passion that still haunted her. In her dreams, she and Rico hadn’t wasted a lot of time talking. But she was rapidly discovering that reality was much harder to live with than fantasies.
Teresa stared up into his eyes and knew she was in no position to be angry at him. Though temper still simmered inside her, it was slowly draining away. After all, this was her fault. She was the one who’d lied to him so long ago and those lies had eventually brought them here. To this moment.
“No,” she said. “I suppose not.”
“Why did you come to Tesoro, Teresa?”
She pushed her hair back from her face with one hand, then let it fall to her side again. “When I realized my father and Paulo had come here, I tried to get them away before you found them. That’s all.”
“I don’t think so.” He moved in closer and she leaned back because she couldn’t move with the railing pressing against her spine. He slapped both hands down on the iron on either side of her, effectively caging her between his arms, and then bent his head until his eyes were boring into hers. She looked into those so familiar and yet so different eyes and saw nothing soft or tender or loving. All that shone back at her was temper and ice.
“I think you came because you wanted me to catch you at last. Because you couldn’t stay away.”
“You’re wrong.” She shook her head, determined to deny his words. If he was right, then she was a monumental fool.
“Am I?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper that hinted at intimacy. “You could have phoned your father. Warned your brother to leave. Instead, you came here, to my place.”
All right, yes. She could have phoned. Could have tried to talk to her family long-distance from the safety of her apartment in Naples. Oh, she’d told herself that they wouldn’t listen to her if she called. That she would have to convince them in person. But what if Rico was right? What if her hunger to be near him again had sent her right into his revenge plan?
Oh, God, she hoped not. Because that would mean her feelings for him were still too rich, too deep for her own good.
“Think about it, Teresa,” Rico urged, his mouth just a breath away from hers. “You came to me. And now that I have you…”
Her insides swirled and heat rushed through her in a blink. Her throat went dry and her breath locked in her chest. Funny, but his idea of revenge—keeping her in his bed for a month until she surrendered to the want clamoring inside her—was just what she’d been dreaming about ever since she’d left him. The punishment for her would be when the month was over and he gave her the divorce she had thought she’d gotten years ago.
He brushed his lips across hers. Once. Twice. Just the barest touch of his mouth to hers and fireworks exploded inside her. She shivered and watched as he pulled away, then straightened, taking a step back from her.
“Now that I have you,” he repeated, “we do this my way.”
“What is your way, Rico?”
“That you’ll find out soon enough.” He turned toward the bedroom. “Come. It’s late and I’m tired.”
Tired?
She was still struggling for breath as she watched him go. Her knees were rubbery and her head was spinning. Her heart was racing and at the core of her, she felt hot and achy. A barely there kiss had reduced her to this—and hadn’t seemed to affect Rico at all.
She was tangled up in knots and he was tired.
Teresa pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she followed Rico. Whatever he had planned for her, it looked as though it wasn’t going to happen tonight. So it seemed she was just going to have to learn to live with the jittering nerve endings and the screaming hormones. Because she wasn’t about to let him know just how much his kiss had awakened in her.
He already had the power here. No point in crowning him a true King.
* * *
For the next few days, Rico was like a man holding on to a live electrical wire. His body was in a constant state of burning. He was touchy. Jumpy. And so damned horny he wondered if a man could die from want.
The plan had been to keep Teresa with him at all times, taking every chance to touch her. To kiss her. To make her so crazy she’d beg him to take her. Joke was on him though, as he was the one suffering.
He walked into the tropical bar, glancing around at the crowd gathered beneath rainbow-colored umbrellas. Not far away, waves rushed to shore, leaving frothy footprints in their wake. Surfers rode the waves and tanned beauties lay stretched out under the sun on royal-blue chaises that looked like sapphires on the white sand. And here in the bar, conversations were loud, laughter was bright and liquor flowed as freely as the sea.
He scanned the faces gathered there and finally found the one he sought. Teresa was behind the bar, helping Teddy, the bartender, serve drinks. Rico wasn’t sure why it irritated him to find her there, helping. But it did. Hell, she was supposed to be miserable. Instead her eyes were shining, her smile wide and welcoming, and when she laughed at something a customer said to her, everything inside Rico tightened into a fist.
Before he could go to her, though, a hand came down on his arm and he looked to his left. Serenity James, Hollywood’s latest darling and Rico’s current annoyance, smiled up at him.
She tossed her caramel-colored hair back from her shoulders to make sure her no doubt surgically enhanced breasts in her impossibly small bikini were displayed to their best advantage.
“Rico, I’ve been hoping to see you,” she said,
her voice a breathy promise of sex in silk sheets. “I wanted to thank you for finding my diamonds.”
The diamonds she was wearing right now. Apparently in the young actress’s eyes, beachwear also demanded accessories clearly worth more than half a million dollars. The stones glittered against her tanned skin and she ran one fingertip over the diamonds, as if to reassure herself they were still where they belonged.
“It was my pleasure,” he said politely, though it cost him. He flicked a glance at Teresa, still laughing with her customer. She was supposed to be suffering, he told himself. Instead, she was making herself at home on Tesoro. He’d noticed over the last few days just how often she lent a hand to one of the staff. The bar today, yesterday it had been some crisis in the kitchen and before that, he’d caught her helping one of the maids whose service cart had been upended by a drunken guest.
Teresa was ingratiating herself with everyone on the island. Including Sean and Melinda King. He knew that Melinda and Teresa had spent some time together since their shared dinner that first night. According to Sean, Teresa was wonderful, being good company and keeping Melinda from worrying about the unknown terrors of her impending labor.
She was winning hearts and minds everywhere. And she was making him just a little insane. His plan was going nowhere fast and time was slipping by. Meanwhile, he was trapped with the empty-headed actress smiling up at him as if she wanted to take a bite out of him. Perhaps at some point in his past he would have been tempted to allow her to do just that. But since meeting Teresa, no other woman interested him in the slightest.
So he gritted his teeth and focused on getting rid of Serenity James as quickly and discreetly as possible.
“As a guest at Castello Tesoro,” he said, “you are my priority, Serenity. We want you to be happy and enjoy your time on the island.”
“Well, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.” She threaded her arm through his and steered him off to her table. “Join me for a drink so I can thank you again.”
Annoyance scratched at the base of his spine, but he kept his professional smile firmly in place. There was no way out of this and Rico knew it. He was used to playing host to the wealthy and the spoiled. And sometimes that meant temporarily burying his own wants and needs to keep the guests happy. Besides, Teresa wasn’t going anywhere.
He took a seat beside the actress at her table. While Serenity told him all about her latest movie and asked him where she could find some real “action” on the island, Rico’s mind wandered to the brunette behind the bar.
For three days and nights, they’d shared his home. His bedroom. His bed. Every night he lay beside her in the dark and called on every reserve of willpower he possessed to keep from touching her and taking what he still thought of as his. His mind filled with images, memories, of burying his body deep within hers. Tension coiled so hard and fast inside him it was a wonder he slept at all. But he would finally fall asleep, only to wake up with Teresa curled up against him, her arm flung across his chest, her head nestled on his shoulder. The scent of her filled his lungs and made waking both pleasure and agony.
Though she went to sleep clinging to the edge of the bed like the last leaf on a tree in autumn, by morning, Teresa was all over him.
She wasn’t being tortured by his plan.
He was.
Serenity dragged the tips of her bloodred nails across the back of his hand. But rather than the seductive sensation she no doubt hoped it was, all Rico felt was irritation. He drew his hand back and gave her a smile. “If there’s anything we can do to ensure your stay is a pleasant one, you must tell me.”
Instantly her grass-green eyes flashed with interest and more. No, that wasn’t what he’d meant, but women like Serenity saw only what they wished.
“Now that you mention it,” she said on a throaty purr, “why don’t you and I go to my cottage right now and have a private party? We could get to know each other better and—”
Before he could speak, he heard Teresa’s voice come from directly behind him.
“A private party?” she repeated, coming around to sit on the arm of Rico’s chair. She laid one arm around his shoulders and he felt her breast press against him as she leaned in.
Curious as to what she was up to, he didn’t say a word to stop her.
“Shouldn’t you be behind the bar mixing drinks?” Serenity asked coolly, her gaze moving up and down Teresa’s outfit of cotton-candy-pink T-shirt, white shorts and flip-flops with dismissal.
“Oh,” Teresa cooed, “I’m much more than a bartender, Ms. James.”
Rico was enjoying himself. Teresa’s hand slid back and forth across his shoulder, then moved up to the nape of his neck, where her fingers threaded through his hair with slow strokes. His skin was sizzling and every drop of blood in his body suddenly rushed south.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Teresa said, giving the other woman a sweet smile, “my husband and I have other plans.”
“Husband?” Serenity looked from Rico to Teresa and back again. “You’re married?”
Rico bit back an oath as the actress’s voice hitched high enough to be heard at the surrounding tables. His marriage had never been public knowledge. His and Teresa’s time together had been so short that not even the media had caught on to it before she had disappeared from his life. Now, though, that looked as if it was about to change.
“Well, damn it,” Serenity said on a full-bottom-lip pout, “you could have mentioned it.” When she stood up in a huff, she punched her breasts out to make sure he could appreciate what he’d be missing, then turned and sashayed—the only word to describe the swing of her hips and the long stride of golden legs—out of the bar.
When she was gone, Teresa made a move to get up, but Rico caught her around the waist and dragged her down onto his lap. Her sexy, curvy behind nestled on top of him and Rico knew a whole new world of discomfort. He groaned, but held her in place. Yes, there was pain, but there was also need and want and a hunger like he hadn’t known in five years. She wiggled, trying to get up, but her movements only fanned the flames licking at him.
“Let me up,” she said in a whisper. “People are watching.”
“You made sure of that when you walked up and rubbed yourself against me,” he told her, enjoying the memory almost as much as the feel of her sitting on him.
“I didn’t—” She broke off. “Fine. I did.”
“Question is,” he asked, “why?”
She looked down into his eyes and seemed to consider whether she would answer or not. After a long minute or two, she tore her gaze from his and muttered, “You looked like you wanted to be rescued.”
“Ah.” He hid a satisfied smile. He hadn’t needed saving. Teresa had chased off the actress for her own reasons. Maybe his plan of seduction was actually working better than he had thought. “That’s another lie. You’re very good at it, by the way, but not good enough.”
“Well, if I read you wrong and you didn’t want to be saved from a conversation with that vacuous twit, I’m so very sorry.”
A smile ticked up the corner of his mouth. “Twit? Have you met Ms. James before, then?”
“I don’t need to talk to her to recognize the type,” Teresa said, studying her fingernails now as if the secrets of the universe were scribed there.
“Which is?”
She shrugged and that little movement had her shifting on his lap again. Rico had to hiss in a breath to keep from groaning aloud. It was the sweetest kind of pain he’d ever known and he was in no hurry to ease it.
“She’s pretty and has great boobs, which she probably paid a fortune for, and that’s about it.”
Rico smirked at her. “You can tell this with a glance?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “But if you want to chase Ms. Boobs, just say so.”
He shook his head. “I’m not interested in Serenity.”
“Not how it looked from the bar.” And she was back to studying her nails.
“You were jealous.”
She stiffened in outrage and glared at him for good measure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” He dropped one hand to her thigh and relished the feel of her sun-warmed skin, bared by her white shorts.
She shivered and tried to scoot to one side, but his other arm wrapped around her waist held her exactly where he wanted her. He continued to stroke her thigh and felt the tremble shaking her slide under his own skin, as well.
Surrounded by guests enjoying the beach, Rico felt as if he and Teresa were alone. Only the two of them in this moment. And hell, it would have been much easier on him if they had been alone. Then he could just stretch her out on the sand, strip her clothes off and give in.
“You are lying again. To me. To yourself.”
She huffed out a breath and squirmed on his lap, which only served to make him harder and her more aware of it. Instantly, she stilled. “What do you want to hear, Rico?”
“The truth,” he said, in a direct challenge. “That you didn’t like seeing that woman with me.”
She laughed, but the sound lacked her usual musical quality and came off as strained instead. “If I were the jealous type, the last five years of seeing your picture in magazines and newspapers, always with a different woman, would have drummed that right out of me.”
“So you tell yourself. And yet…”
Teresa took a breath, slanted her eyes to his and murmured, “Fine. I didn’t like the way she was pawing at you. Heck, she was practically drooling. Happy now?”
Short answer was yes. A longer answer would take more time. At least a couple of hours. In his bed. Even his taste for revenge was muted by the fire inside him. All he wanted, all he could think about, was getting her naked and—if he didn’t stop thinking about it he’d never be able to walk out of the bar.
Her Return to King's Bed Page 7
