But he knew, and the memories were choking him.
“Plan not going so well?”
Rico glanced at Sean as his cousin walked out to join him on the patio. “What makes you say that?”
“For starters, you’re strangling that poor, innocent beer bottle.”
Rico cursed under his breath and carefully eased his grip on the bottle neck. “I’ve a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah.” Sean looked over his shoulder at the two women standing in the home King Construction had built for his family. “It’s pretty clear just what’s on your mind.”
“Stay out of this, Sean.” Even Rico heard his accent thicken as his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. He’d spent most of his early youth in Mexico with his mother. Much later he had gone to California to live with his father’s family. And still, at emotional or stressful times, the music of an accent appeared in his speech.
Sean lifted both hands in false surrender. “Hey, I’m out. What you do to screw up your world is your business.”
Annoyance flared and Rico scowled at the other man. He loved his family—all of them. But he knew their flaws and the worst one was that in the King family, even when they were “butting out,” they had their say. You never had to wonder what your brothers or cousins were thinking, because there hadn’t been a King born yet who could keep his opinion to himself. Every last one of them was sure he was right and didn’t care who knew it. Made for some interesting family get-togethers and some very loud discussions.
Scowling, Rico took a sip of beer that he didn’t want and willed the icy brew to cool off the fires within. It didn’t help any. “How’s Melinda feeling?”
“Oh, nice change of subject. Very subtle.” Sean snorted and leaned one hip on the patio railing. His gaze still focused on his wife through the wide bay window, he sighed. “She’s nesting. I swear, Rico, the more nervous I get, the more serene she gets.”
“Probably in self-defense,” Rico mused. “Watching you go crazy with worry, she can either go with you or…”
“Yeah.” Sean scraped one hand over his face. “Okay, yeah, I am going a little nuts. But damn, Rico. I’m about to be a father. That’s just scary as hell.”
“It must be.” For one incredibly brief instant, Rico’s mind dredged up an image of Teresa, pregnant with his child. Then that image shattered and he mentally swept up the shards and disposed of them.
“I mean,” Sean was saying, “what the hell do I know about being a father? What if I mess it up?”
“You won’t.”
“Yeah? My dad wasn’t the best role model in the world.”
True. Sean’s father, Ben King, had many sons and had never married any of their mothers. He had done his best by his children, but he hadn’t always been around for them. Rico could understand Sean’s doubts even as he knew that Sean would never let down his children or his wife.
“You’re better than that.”
“I’d like to think so,” Sean admitted, then he gave a shaky laugh. “But the God’s truth is, this is…huge. My kids will be looking to me for answers, about life and the world and—” He shook his head and took a long pull of his beer. “Okay, freaking out a little, I guess.”
“It’s understandable.” Rico slapped his cousin on the back. “But some of your brothers are fathers. Surely they can give you some tips.”
Sean laughed a little and shook his head. “Yeah, if you listen to Lucas, his Danny is ready for college and the kid’s just about to turn three. And as for Rafe, his and Katie’s daughter, Becca, is only a few months old. He’s still as confused as I feel.”
Chuckling in spite of everything, Rico reminded him, “In the last few years, how many of our brothers and cousins have begun multiplying? Think about it, Sean. If they can handle being fathers, so can you.”
“How do I know they’re doing it right?” Sighing, he admitted, “Nope, there’s no hope for this kid. I’m all he’s got and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
All joking aside, Sean really did look as though he was worried about this, so Rico took pity on his cousin.
“You will love your son, Sean. That’s all he really needs from you.”
“Well, that much I can do for sure,” Sean said with a nervous grin. Shaking his head again, he admitted, “You know, nothing in my life has ever made me so happy and at the same time scared me boneless as the idea of my son being born.”
“I think,” Rico told him, “that is how it is supposed to be.” He used his beer to point at the kitchen window. “Besides, look at your lovely wife. Does she look worried? No. Because she has you. And because she knows that the two of you are making a family.”
Sean blew out a breath. “When did you get so damn smart?”
Rico laughed at the idea. Smart. If he was smart, he wouldn’t have wedged himself into his current situation with Teresa. “It’s not being smart,” he said. “It is knowing my family. And you will be a good father, Sean.”
“Hope you’re right.” He grinned. “No backing out now. Hey, did I tell you Melinda and I are taking the baby to California for Christmas? Get a chance to let everyone meet our new son and I can show her around Long Beach…”
Rico was only half listening now. His focus was Teresa. She was wearing a short-sleeved green silk blouse and a pair of white slacks and she looked…edible. His insides twisted anew as fresh desire pulsed in his bloodstream. She smiled and tossed her hair back from her face. The line of her throat was elegant. The shine in her eyes was magnetic. Her lush body was everything a man dreamed of.
“Oh, yeah,” Sean said on a laugh, catching Rico’s attention. “Your plan’s working real well. Damn, dude. You can help me, but you can’t dig yourself out of your own mess.”
Rico straightened up. He ignored Sean’s teasing and snapped out, “Melinda.”
Behind the glass, Sean’s wife had doubled over, one arm wrapped around her belly. Teresa was hovering over her and throwing a frantic look to Rico.
“Holy—” Sean broke off and ran. “It’s time. Get the car.”
Seven
In fifteen minutes, the four of them were at the hospital and Melinda and Sean were taken away to the mysteries of the maternity ward.
Then time started ticking past so slowly that Teresa almost thought they’d stepped into some vortex where time had actually stopped.
The waiting room was long and narrow. It had mint-green paint, beige linoleum floors and the most uncomfortable chairs she had ever experienced. And why, she asked herself, did all hospitals smell the same? In America, Italy, even here on this beautiful tropical island, hospitals stank of antibacterial cleansers and fear. She wrapped her arms around herself, stood up and walked out to the light-filled hallway. Across from her was a nurses’ station, manned by one very tired-looking woman. Teresa didn’t bother to ask any questions, mainly because Rico had been plaguing the poor woman for hours now and Teresa just didn’t have the heart to bother her more.
During the long night, anxious husbands and excited grandparents had come and gone from this waiting room, and still she and Rico waited. Teresa took a seat in the narrow, nearly empty lobby, ignored the small television on the wall playing an old movie she had no interest in and stared instead at Rico, who hadn’t stopped pacing since they arrived. She could understand that.
She’d realized from the moment she met him that as a King, he didn’t accept inactivity easily. He was a man who took charge. Who stepped in to do what needed doing. It was part of his nature. His heritage. And now he was in the position of being able to do nothing.
Helplessness was not something he was even remotely familiar with.
“You might as well sit down,” she finally said. “This could take a long time.”
“It has already been hours.” Frowning, he glanced at her, then f
ired a hard look at a passing nurse. “How much longer? And how can we know if no one will tell us anything?”
Teresa took a chance and threaded her arm through his. When he didn’t shrug her off, she called it a win and smiled to herself. “Let’s take a walk.”
“What?” He looked down at her. “Where? I don’t want to go far—what if…?”
“We won’t be far,” Teresa said, touched that he cared for his family this much. It was these few moments, when he was unguarded, that allowed her a glimpse of the man she’d met so long ago. This man was the Rico she remembered. The stranger was the man who had jumped out of bed as if it were on fire.
“Didn’t you tell Sean that nowhere on this island was far from anything?”
“Good point.” He blew out a breath and scraped one hand through his hair. “All right, then. I could use some fresh air.”
“And I think the nurses could use a break, too.” Teresa patted his arm as they walked past the nurses’ station. She paused there only long enough to say, “We’re going outside for a few minutes. If Sean comes out looking for us, tell him we’ll be right back.”
“I will.” Her gaze fixed on Rico, she said, “You take your time.”
Teresa laughed, but Rico’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. He still wore a frown that would send most people scrambling for a place to hide. Shaking her head, Teresa led him to the elevator, then punched the button for the main floor. The two-story building wasn’t large, but it spread out over quite an area. It was the only medical facility for the islanders. Without it, people who needed serious medical help would have had to board a boat for St. Thomas.
She’d learned a lot in the last few days. Rico’s employees were eager to talk about him and the island paradise where they lived. They had told her all about what the Kings had done for Tesoro since moving here. For example, they had donated enough money to see to it that the small hospital now boasted top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art equipment. They’d hired more doctors and nurses and made it possible for most emergencies to be handled on island.
They’d rebuilt the dock and improved the harbor, making it easier for charter ships, as well as local fishermen, to pull into port. In town they’d arranged for more of the islanders to sell their wares to the tourists who now flocked to Tesoro. The Kings had done good things on the island and everyone here seemed to appreciate it. But Teresa knew that if she commented on any of this to Rico, he would shrug off her admiration and call it simply good business. He was a complicated man and maybe that was one reason she was so drawn to him. Because at the heart of it, very few men were complicated.
At the ground floor, Rico practically lunged off the elevator and Teresa had to hurry to keep up with him. Outside the night was quiet, the wind was soft and the sound of the ocean rumbled in the distance. It felt good to get out of the claustrophobic waiting room. It felt even better to have Rico beside her.
Teresa took a long, deep breath and blew it out again. “Nice to get out of the hospital for a while.”
“Yes.” Rico looked back over his shoulder at the brightly lit entrance. “But not for too long. I want to be nearby when—”
“We will be.” Teresa took his hand and was pleased when he didn’t pull away. Small victories. She led him across the side yard, their steps muffled by the thick grass. “But waiting for hours can be hard. You have to get out now and then.”
He snorted, but the tension in him eased a bit as the trade winds continued to rush past them, carrying the scents of flowers and the sea with them. “And how do you know so much about women in childbirth?”
Teresa smiled and squeezed his hand. Whatever else was between them, for the moment they were on the same side, allies against the unknown.
“I grew up all over the world,” she said finally, tipping her head back to look up at the night sky, dazzled with stars. “Our home was in Italy, but we were rarely there.”
“I wondered why I have more of an accent than you do.”
She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, when the truth was all of her life she had longed for a place to call home. Even her own apartment in Naples wasn’t home. Just another temporary refuge.
“Hard to adopt a particular accent when you’re never in one place long enough to pick up the rhythms of the local speech.”
“Hmm…”
His noncommittal answer told her that he was thinking about the Coretti family and their tradition of thievery keeping them on the move. But she wasn’t going to talk about her family now and ruin this momentary truce.
“Anyway, we were living in New York and my mother’s sister was having a baby. I was about sixteen, I guess.”
“And you waited as we are now?”
“We waited. For hours.” She sighed and shifted her gaze from the skies to him. “It seemed to take forever.”
“And did your father fill his time by stealing from the patients and doctors?”
She stopped dead and turned to face him. Her gaze met his and she was sorry to see the stony glint in his eyes again. “Can you never let it go, Rico? Not even for a while?”
“Why should I?” he demanded.
“Because I’m not my father.” Her voice was quiet but strong. Her gaze never left his as she added, “I’ve never stolen anything in my life. I’m not a thief.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw as if he were fighting an internal battle over what to say and what to hold back. Then he blurted, “So just a liar, then?”
The verbal slap hit home and she winced. It seemed that their momentary truce had ended and her sorrow was quickly swallowed by impatience. He was determined to see her only as treacherous and Teresa had no idea how to change his mind.
“And you’ve never lied? Are you that perfect, Rico?”
“Not perfect,” he countered. “But I don’t lie to the people who matter to me.”
“Ah,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a sharp nod. “So you’re a picky liar. Only a select few. I’m guessing women?”
“Mostly,” he admitted and didn’t look bothered by the admission at all.
“And that’s okay?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She shook her head and asked, “What about me? Did you tell me pretty lies when we met?”
His jaw clenched and it looked as though he were grinding his teeth into powder. “You’re the one who lied to me, remember?”
“So you were honest with me, but not with other women.” She laughed shortly. “Well, hell, Rico. You’re wasting your time being a hotelier when you should be a saint.”
Furious now, she let her temper reign because that was so much easier than dealing with the disappointment and regret threatening to choke her. Teresa spun around and took two steps away from him before he caught her with one strong hand and whipped her back around to face him.
“I never claimed to be a saint,” he muttered, his accent suddenly flaring into life and coloring his words with a seductive tang he probably didn’t intend at the moment. “But I never lied to you.”
“What about the phony divorce papers?”
He frowned, gritted his teeth and kept quiet, silently admitting he had no answer for that.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up into his eyes and searched for the man she loved behind that wall of ice he’d built between them. “I didn’t want to lie to you, Rico. I didn’t want to leave you, either. But there was nothing else I could do. Can’t you understand lying to protect someone?”
“I can’t understand a family who demands that kind of loyalty.”
“Really?” She tipped her head to one side and met him, glare for glare. “Because the King family isn’t loyal?”
“We don’t cheat for each other,” he snapped. “We don’t lie to protect each othe
r.”
“But you would if you had to.”
His mouth flattened into a grim slash and his eyes narrowed. She could see that he was thinking about it, considering…and not really enjoying the answer he was coming up with.
She took a long breath. “Rico, I’m not asking you to forget what happened five years ago. But maybe you could try to see it from my side.”
“Your side? All I know of your side is one thing.” He released his hold on her, shoved his hands into his pockets and stared over her head at the surrounding trees. “You chose them over me.”
“They’re my family.”
His gaze shot to hers. “And I’m your husband.”
“Do you really think it was easy for me?”
“All I know is that you did it,” he ground out. “Easy or difficult, you made your choice and we were both forced to live with it.”
Pain squeezed her heart and radiated out to every square inch of her body. There was nothing she could say to that. No excuse. No plea for understanding. Rico would never see what she had done as anything less than betrayal.
Their gazes locked, unspoken tension practically humming between them in the soft island air. The ocean was a murmur of sound and somewhere in the distance an animal’s screech sounded out.
There was so much to say and so little all at the same time. Teresa had hoped that they might find a way to reach each other again, but for every step forward she took, Rico moved that much farther away. He was slipping away from her even as she stood beside him. Missing the feel of his touch, Teresa scrubbed her palms up and down her arms in a futile attempt to ease the chill of the cold that was deep inside her.
“Teresa,” he asked quietly a moment later, “what happened?”
“What?” She shook her head and looked at him in confusion.
“With your aunt,” he said, reminding her of the story she had been telling. “What happened?”
It took her a second, but a smile curved her mouth as she looked at him. Nothing had been solved. They were still on opposite sides of the same battle. But his question told Teresa that Rico, too, missed their all-too-brief truce. So she willingly played along and dipped back into her memories.
Her Return to King's Bed Page 9
