Simply put, she’d panicked. He’d thrown her completely, first with those endless sweet kisses that practically had her exploding with emotions too powerful and frightening to name, then by being so insistent that they make love. As if he could read her mind, see all the unwelcome feelings and longings that consumed her while he stroked her with the softness of the brush. Out of her sexual arousal had sprung a yearning so deep she’d barely been able to fight it. A yearning to have him over and inside her, a yearning to reach her climax with him, surrounded by the warmth and strength of his body.
But then what? Once she’d given herself to Riley that way, there’d be no easy departure. No hey, thanks for the orgasm, that was swell, see ya later. After an experience like that she’d be gone. Lost. Sex Goddess Melissa trampled to death under the onslaught of her own ordinary-woman emotions. And he’d have the right to look surprised and say, “I thought this was only about sex. What is it with you chicks?”
Only thank God Riley wouldn’t use a word like chicks.
The door to the outside hall opened; parents all around the room stiffened and fixed attentive, hopeful gazes toward it. A doctor came out and spoke to a nearby couple. Their son was going to be okay. The surgeons had been able to remove the mass completely; no, it wasn’t cancerous. The woman broke down and embraced her husband. The husband shook the doctor’s hand, tears streaming from his eyes.
Melissa shrank back into her chair, feeling like slugs were a step above her in the evolutionary chain. While these people had been facing life and death, stretched to the limits of endurance and hope, she’d been playing. Manipulating. Toying with someone and spitting all over her true feelings.
How much longer would she go on thinking of herself as some kind of wild woman in the face of endless evidence that she didn’t have what it took?
When they’d arrived at the hospital and rushed inside to meet Karen and Leo, Riley had enveloped his sister in a strong, comforting hug that reduced Karen to tears she’d probably managed to keep back before then. Melissa had stood awkwardly to one side, unable to take her eyes off him—no longer Riley, Stud for Hire, but a warm, protective older brother, concerned and scared and trying to be strong for his family. It was suddenly and hopelessly impossible to keep pretending this was about sex with a stranger.
Beside her, Riley crossed and recrossed his legs; his sister flipped pages of a magazine, obviously not reading. Melissa cleared her throat, hoping in some small way to be able to ease the tension. “Waiting is the worst.”
Riley nodded. “Though in my line of work, you get used to it.”
His words sank in slowly, along with their significance. She hadn’t a clue what he did. Who he was. Where he lived. She had a sudden, ravenous need to know, to ground him in serious, responsible reality. So instead of imagining him flying through the air saving the universe, she could think of him during the day in a nice suit, on the phone, sharpening pencils and dictating memos. Things she could relate to. Things that might even make a real relationship between them seem not so far out of reach.
“What do you do?” She blushed, keeping her voice low so his sister wouldn’t hear. Kind of a strange question, considering they’d been rolling around naked a few hours before.
He smiled as if her question pleased him, but hesitated before he answered. “I’m a private investigator.”
“Oh?” Her nine-to-five corporate fantasy was in jeopardy. “You mean like ‘is my husband faithful’ and ‘who’s taking the company toilet paper?’ Stuff like that?”
He shook his head, his eyes measuring her reaction. “Usually not quite that tame.”
“You mean like…murders and kidnappings?” Melissa winced. For heaven’s sake, she sounded like a squeaky teenager who watched too much TV. Of course he didn’t—
“Would that upset you?”
Her jaw dropped. “I don’t…I mean—”
“It’s not usually that grisly. A lot of it is pretty dull. But it can get…involved sometimes.” He still watched her carefully, though his voice was matter-of-fact, as if he was sharing a favorite chili recipe.
“But…don’t the police usually handle criminal stuff?” Her sentence ended in a wistful squeak. Couldn’t he have been an accountant? Or a financial consultant? Someone who sat in an office for eight hours a day and came home to take the family out to KFC for dinner. Someone who’d share her dream of kids and the PTA and family game night. Someone who’d think plain old non-Sex Goddess Melissa was exciting and fabulous and worth building a life with.
“Some of my clients don’t want the police involved, at least at first. Sometimes the police come to me for help.” His lips tightened for a fraction of a second. “They have to operate by the book, which can be…inconvenient sometimes.”
Melissa nodded; a sick feeling sank like a boulder into her stomach. Here she was, finally ready to admit she wanted the games over with, and the reality had turned out to be even more fantastic than the fantasy. Just when she’d started to allow herself hope that Riley could be a real friend and lover, she found out he was James Bond.
She squinted at him; her stunned brain struggled to make sense of something. Riley. In Rose’s apartment. All those noises.
“So that’s why…” Her voice rose from its careful whisper. “That’s why you were going through Rose’s underwear.”
His sister closed her magazine and rolled her eyes. “No offense, but I don’t think I need to hear this, though in his business there’s usually a logical explanation.” She stood and raked red-nailed fingers through her dark permed hair. “Decaf, anyone? I can’t stand just sitting here.”
“No, thanks.” Melissa smiled, admiring Karen’s poise and courage, wishing they could have met under other circumstances, when her son wasn’t in danger and when Melissa’s mind was actually functioning.
Riley shook his head; his sister kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair before she went out the door, her steps nervous and jerky.
Melissa stared at Riley, his tousled hair, the red lipstick mark on his face. She was having a very, very hard time with this. Except that maybe even James Bond was someone’s little brother.
“So you were investigating Rose?”
He shrugged. “In a way.”
Melissa’s stomach twisted in sympathy for Rose. Poor thing. No wonder she’d wanted to escape. She couldn’t even trust one of her own friends. “What kind of way?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.” She gave a small sad smile. A P.I. In retrospect, it made perfect sense. His constant air of caution, of holding back, observing. The natural inclination to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. No wonder she couldn’t relax entirely around him. No wonder she felt like a butterfly on stickpins when he looked at her.
He had a whole life, an entire existence she couldn’t possibly understand or appreciate or be part of. Sneaky, subversive, flirting with the wrong side of the law when necessary. Lying would come easily to him, manipulation, possibly even violence. He probably owned a gun and knew how to use it. What the hell did she know about any of that? What use would he have for a woman like her?
No wonder he’d taken the handcuffs so hard. What was a game to her was probably serious business to him. He was a tough man, doing a probably dangerous job, and she was in marketing, for God’s sake. It was like pairing a guerilla fighter with Martha Stewart.
Hi, honey, did you liberate any countries from oppressive dictatorships today? Oh, good. While you were gone I made a fabulous seasonal centerpiece out of those old hand grenades you had in the garage….
This was agony.
Except there was the way he’d kissed her early that night, right after he arrived at her apartment, before her awful miscalculation had ruined things. And the way he’d hugged his sister when they met at the emergency room. And the way he’d looked after they wheeled his nephew out of sight on the gurney. Vulnerable. Scared. Totally human.
“What do you do?”
He leaned forward and brushed her hair off her face. “When you’re not tying men to your bed?”
“Oh…I’m assistant marketing director at the museum of art. I come up with ways to make our exhibits as appealing as possible to the public, develop education programs for school groups and…et cetera.” She nearly laughed at the inane sound of her answer. “And…I’m sorry about the handcuffs. It seemed like a fun, sexy idea when I had it.”
He edged forward in his seat and leaned toward her, eyes still hauntingly magnetic, even ringed with fatigue and strain. “It was a fun, sexy idea, Melissa. But it didn’t work for one important reason.”
She bit her lip, preparing for the inevitable lashing. “Which you’re going to tell me.”
“Because it wasn’t what either of us wanted to be doing.” His voice came out low, husky and seductive; he touched her cheek, a warm, gentle touch that made her battered hopes awaken again. “The next time we’re in bed together it’s going to be you and me. No games. No toys.”
“No toys?” His sister sat back down with her coffee.
Easily, naturally, Riley shifted around to include Karen in the conversation. “I was just telling Melissa that the dresser I’m making for Leo needs sprucing up a little.”
A cold shiver made the rounds of Melissa’s skeletal structure. He didn’t blink. Didn’t miss a beat. His expression, his demeanor and his voice had changed smoothly, in an instant. Talking about sex to talking about furniture. Press a button and switch personalities. As he must have done when she’d caught him going through Rose’s drawers and he’d claimed he was looking for underwear.
“Oh?” His sister put down her coffee and stared at him thoughtfully. “I thought you said it was perfect.”
“It’s not…six-year-old enough. It needs something more fun. Less…square.”
“Really.” Karen flicked a glance over to Melissa, then back to Riley. “What an interesting development. Have you seen it yet, Melissa?”
“I…no. Not yet.” She stumbled over the words, felt herself blush outrageously. She obviously hadn’t benefited from years of practice lying. “But Riley has, uh, told me about it and how, you know, square he thinks it is.”
“Well.” Karen continued to stare speculatively, the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “Sounds like you might be the right person to help him liven it up.”
Riley sent his sister a boyish grin. “I think you’re right.”
Melissa swallowed, slightly disoriented. Did she miss something? Did this piece of furniture have tremendous significance she should know about?
She suddenly wanted out of the hospital, away from this man, back to the quiet comforting predictability of Bill. Bill’s honesty was so much a part of him that he hadn’t even been able to start dating someone else after they broke up without telling her about it. So, he was a little dull. At least he didn’t know how to shoot people. And she couldn’t ever remember being wildly confused around him. Not even vaguely bewildered. And she’d never once caught him going through someone else’s underwear. Those were things she admired in a man. Required, even.
A handsome young doctor dressed in green scrubs, came through the door and headed toward them. Karen, Riley and Melissa stood abruptly for the endless seconds it took him to approach.
He smiled reassuringly, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “The surgery went fine. We’ll keep Leo here a few days so we can keep him comfortable and on antibiotics. I anticipate he’ll be back to his old self in a week or so.”
“Oh, thank God. Riley.” Karen flew to her brother, laughing and crying all at once.
Melissa let out breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and practically hurt her face smiling. She watched Riley, his arms around Karen, his face clenched with a fierce combination of love, joy and relief.
Her smile died; her heart and throat squeezed painfully. The more she was with this man, the more she wanted him, the more conflicted and difficult it was to be around him and the more out of reach he seemed. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Real love grew quietly, rose naturally out of shared time and experiences, shared values and backgrounds.
Riley opened his eyes and grinned at her over his sister’s head. Melissa gave a silly, inadequate thumbs-up and managed to grin back, feeling sick and exhausted and confused.
No matter how sexy and fabulous Riley made her seem when they were in bed together, no matter how powerful and exciting her infatuation with him was, he wasn’t the right man for her. She wasn’t the right woman for him. It was time to let the dream go and face the reality of who she was and what she wanted.
The adventure had to end.
“WELL, I THINK THE QUEEN should have told old whatsisname to get lost, and annulled the forced marriage to Viola so Viola and Will could have lived happily ever after.” Penny plunked her empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “I hate sad endings. I mean, if I want to see suffering and misery, all I have to do is turn on the news. I go to movies to escape all that.”
Melissa stopped the tape of Shakespeare in Love and pressed the rewind button. “I don’t know. Viola is probably better off. After all that exciting Romeo and Juliet, forbidden-love stuff wore off she and Will might have found out they weren’t meant for each other, after all. I mean, you can’t really know you’re in love by the way someone looks and how they kiss.”
Penny stared at her in astonishment. “You don’t believe in love at first sight?”
“Absolutely not.” Melissa banished the image of Riley that first time she’d opened Rose’s door to him. Yes, the feelings had been powerful, the attraction explosive, but that wasn’t love.
Penny shook her head. “You probably would have smacked Will away after the first meeting and stopped the movie in its tracks.”
“No. But I wouldn’t have expected forever based on that initial thrill. At least with the gross husband Viola isn’t in for any huge disappointments. And maybe he’ll turn out to be better than she thinks.”
Penny lowered her glasses and turned pitying eyes on Melissa. “Why are you so sure that you can’t have passion and marriage together?”
“You can, I guess. But wild passionate feelings aren’t enough to build a life together. Those feelings come from insecurity or desperation, not real love. Real love is what’s left after all that other gaga stuff wears off.”
“You sound like you’re trying very hard to convince yourself, Miss Melissa. Does this have anything to do with Bill the Snore-man versus Tom-Riley, Double-oh-seven?”
Melissa attempted a casual shrug. “Possibly.”
“Geez, Melissa, has it ever occurred to you that most guys are more fun than Bill and considerably less exhausting than your James Bond guy? How can you base a theory on such a small statistical sample?”
“Because it’s true. Look at me. I’m on some crazy addictive high for this guy. He’s all I think about, all I want all day long.” Her voice thickened. “I cry when I talk about him, I pine, I giggle, I’m a total crazy person. It’s ridiculous.”
Penny froze in a dramatic mouth-open position. “Oh. My. God. You’re in love with him.”
“No.” Melissa pushed away a mutinous affirmative thrill. “That’s just the point. This isn’t love. This is…mental illness.”
Penny slumped onto Melissa’s sofa and clutched a pillow to her stomach. “This is a disaster, is what it is. You really know how to pick ‘em.”
“Penny, I have not picked him. More to the point, he’s not even close to picking me.”
“Are you going to keep seeing him?”
“Once more. To break it off.” Her face crumpled and she took a deep fortifying breath. She was not going to cry over him. Nor was she going to admit how deeply she felt about him, especially to Penny and maybe not even to herself.
“Case closed.” Penny shook her head mournfully. “You’re in love.”
“How can I possibly be in love when all we’ve done is kinky stuff? I’ve never even had a conversation w
ith the man.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, not many. Not enough.”
“What’s enough?”
“Enough to know him. To know what he’s like in different moods. When he’s angry, when he—”
“You’ve seen him angry.”
“Okay, yes.” She put her hands up in surrender. “We’ve done angry. To know how he handles stress, how he reacts in a, uh…”
“Crisis?” Penny shot her a know-it-all glance. “Did we not find ourselves in the emergency room last night?”
“Yes. Okay. Fine. But there’s the small fact that he confuses me hopelessly and we’re totally unsuited. And another thing.” She found herself pacing the floor, and stopped in the middle of a crazy-woman gesture to avoid making Penny look any more smug. “Regardless of how I feel, there is no way a guy that amazing would want someone like me. He’s a total stud, for one. He’s been around the world, he lives closer to the edge every day than I’d want to in my worst nightmare. I mean, what the hell does a woman like me have to offer him?”
“Gee, I don’t know, maybe low self-esteem?” Penny snorted. “If anything, you’re too good for him. You’re twice the woman he is, Melissa. You just don’t know it.”
Melissa gave a wry smile. “You think? Twice the woman?”
“You know what I mean.” Penny waved her hands dismissively. “You’re in love with him. Admit it and then we can decide what to do.”
“I’m not in love—” Melissa gave a strangled groan and collapsed on her couch. Oh, help. It was hopeless. Why bother trying to fool herself any longer? “Okay, I’m in love with him.”
“Good for you.” Penny applauded heartily. “The first step in treating any illness is to diagnose it. Now are you sure this man has no feelings for you?”
“I don’t know.” Melissa gestured wearily, totally drained by the admission. “Sometimes I think he—”
A knock sounded on Melissa’s door. Not Riley’s confident rapping, but a timid excuse-me knock. Melissa shrugged at Penny’s questioning look and walked over to the door.
“Who is it?” She raised her voice and bent her head close to hear the answer.
The Wild Side Page 15
