Her Return To King's Bed Part 8

This was what had tormented her dreams for so long. The memories of his touch, his caresses, his mouth, his hot breath dusting across her skin. All she needed now to feel complete was his body pushing into hers, locking them together as they were meant to be.

He lifted his head as if he'd heard or sensed her thoughts. Staring into her eyes, he whispered, "You feel so good, Teresa. As I remembered and more."

"Rico..." That single word came out strangled as knots of need lodged in her throat and breathing was more and more difficult.

Her hips lifted into his hand and his thumb brushed across one particular spot of sensation that had her reaching blindly for him. He kissed her again and again, mouths meeting and parting, breath mingling, their heavy sighs coming in tandem.

Teresa struggled to find her breath as Rico drove her toward a climax she didn't want to experience without him inside her. "Be with me, Rico. Be in me."

He hissed in a breath, dropped his forehead to hers for a moment and then eased up enough to look into her eyes. "No, Teresa. When I have you, it will be my way."

Her heart broke a little even as her body was clamoring for more. "Don't," she urged, framing his face in her hands. "Don't use what's between us for payback."

His hand on her core stilled and her body ached.

"If I wanted to torture you," he said softly, kissing her mouth, her nose, her eyes, "I would step away now and leave you hungering for me as I hungered for you so long ago."

Guilt rushed in and chewed at her heart. She had walked out on the man she loved without explanation. Without apologies. Just disappeared one day and as far as he knew, never looked back. But it hadn't been easy for her. She'd left a piece of her soul behind when she'd slipped away from his life. A piece she could never reclaim.

"Rico, I hungered, too," she whispered and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "I didn't want to leave you. I had to-"

Sunlight shone in the black of his hair and glittered across his blue eyes. Outside the terrace doors, the surrounding trees were filled with birds screeching and singing. Inside, silence was as heavy as stone.

He shook his head. "No more. The past is gone. What we have is now. This month and no longer."

There it was. He couldn't have been clearer. From the first time he'd proposed this blackmailed month to this very moment, Rico had laid down his expectations. One month. No longer. Her insides twisted and her heart wept, but her body was more interested in the now. In the completion of the o.r.g.a.s.m that had been promised.

"This month, then," she said softly and thought that she saw, however briefly, a flicker of regret in his eyes. But in the next moment, it was gone anyway.

She smoothed one hand across his face as he touched her again, sliding his fingers deep inside her. He stroked her inside and out, increasing the rhythm of his caresses until all thought but one was chased from her mind. She needed.

All she could see was his eyes. Those blue depths that were filled with so many colliding emotions she couldn't identify them. All she felt was the tightening coil inside her, threatening to explode.

"Rico, please. Now. Be with me." She bucked against him and tossed her head from side to side. Her heartbeat clamored in her chest and it felt as though every muscle in her body was clenched. Feet planted on the mattress beneath her, she moved into his hand, seeking more, needing more.

When he stopped touching her and pulled away, she groaned tightly. "Don't stop. Please. Don't stop."

"I'm not," he said through gritted teeth. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."

She heard a drawer open and close, then the distinct sound of a foil wrapper being ripped open. She opened her eyes, looked at him in time to see him sheathe himself and her mouth went dry again. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. How had she ever had the courage to leave him and what she'd found with him? How would she ever survive without him again?

But those thoughts and the millions of others that would no doubt torment her for years to come had no place here now. Here there was only she and Rico. And the pa.s.sion rising in the room.

Teresa lifted her arms to him and parted her legs in welcome. His body covered hers and in the next breath he entered her, sliding into her heat in one long, smooth stroke. She sighed in soul-deep pleasure at the feel of him within her once more. So long. It had been so very long.

Teresa's head tipped back on the mattress and she lifted her legs higher, wrapping them around Rico's waist, holding him to her, taking him as deeply as she could. She wanted to savor the moment. Imprint the feel of him inside her on her brain so that the sensation became a part of her. So that she would never truly feel alone again.

"Look at me," he whispered and Teresa opened her eyes to stare into his. Her own desire was reflected back at her and matched by what was shining in his gaze.

He set a rhythm that she eagerly met and as they looked into each other's eyes, they raced toward completion together. Teresa shouted his name as pleasure, raw and wild, crashed over her and as her arms locked around him, she heard him groan, felt him stiffen as his own release claimed him.

And locked together, they tumbled over the edge and willingly fell into oblivion.

A half hour later, Teresa was feeling wonderful. Sprawled across a bed, her lover-her husband-lay beside her. Every inch of her body felt well used. Her heart was full and in that moment, her mind raced with possibilities.

Maybe this month wouldn't be the end after all, she thought, refusing for now to remember Rico's words, This month and no longer. Maybe it could still be different. Maybe this time with him would be a beginning. A fresh start. A time for them to meet as equals and realize that what they had found together was too precious to throw away. Maybe there could still be a happily ever after.

But not, she knew, until the past had finally been put to rest.

"Rico," she said, voice soft in the quiet room, "I want you to know that when I left five years ago-"

"Stop." He cut her off with one sharp word. Turning his head to meet her eyes, he said, "I'm not interested in remembering old lies-or hearing new ones."

His cold tone was like a verbal slap. "I wasn't going to-"

"Teresa," he said on a sigh, "this changes nothing between us, so don't look at me with stars in your eyes."

G.o.d, she had been. And she should have known better. But how was she supposed to protect her heart against hope?

"I need a shower." Rico pushed off the bed, gave her a quick look and said, "That was good, thanks."

"Thanks?" Stunned, she looked up at him. "That's it? Just thanks?"

He shrugged. "Were you expecting outpourings of love and devotion?" He smiled briefly and shook his head. "All we share now is s.e.x and this hotel, Teresa. And that only for the next month."

Hurt crowded around her heart and squeezed painfully. Just a short while ago, he had been a part of her, sharing something amazing, and now he'd draped that icy demeanor over himself like a d.a.m.n cloak. There was distance in his voice and a careless att.i.tude that tore at the last remaining shreds of five-year-old dreams.

"That wasn't just s.e.x, Rico." There was more between them than that. Wasn't there?

He met her gaze thoughtfully for a long second or two. Then he said simply, "Yes, it was."

Turning his back on her, he stalked toward the spa-like bathroom and tossed over his shoulder, "You should get cleaned up. We're expected for dinner at Sean and Melinda's."

Then he closed the bathroom door behind him and left her, suddenly cold and very much alone, in the middle of the bed.

Dinner was an eternity.

Pretending as if nothing was wrong only built the tension inside Rico until he felt as though he would snap. He'd finally escaped to the patio of Sean's home, where he stood alone in the starry darkness. Solar lights made circles of gold on the neatly tended lawn. Mature trees surrounded the house and yard and a stone walkway led down to the ocean.

He listened now, letting the soothing charge and retreat of the surf sink into him, hoping to relax some before rejoining the others inside. It wasn't easy to act as though all was well. It went against his nature to be less than honest. He was uncomfortable with pretense. Lies were tangled webs, snaring everyone who came close. And the lies Teresa had told so long ago were still strangling him.

Rico had never been one to accept lies. When he was a boy, his mother had concocted stories with impunity to get whatever she wanted. He'd never been able to believe a word she said because lying had become second nature to her. When Rico was eleven, she had at last given him up to be raised by his father, Mike King. He remembered his father coming to him several months later, asking him if he missed his mother. The sad truth was, he hadn't missed her at all, because he'd never really known her.

Her lies and impossible-to-believe stories had ensured that she was a mystery, even to her son. When she died ten years ago, she had still been a nebulous figure to Rico. He had no idea who she had been. What she'd believed. If she'd loved him at all. The lies had clouded everything.

Truth was much cleaner. Much more...efficient.

But lies kept entangling him.

For example, the lie he'd told himself: that having Teresa back in his bed would rid him of the remains of his desire for her. Instead he wanted her now more than ever.

And that shook him.

Then there was the lie he had told Teresa: that it had been simply s.e.x that they'd shared. It cost Rico to admit it, but he couldn't hide the truth from himself. What he'd just experienced with Teresa was something else again. His whole d.a.m.n body felt as if it were burning up from the inside. The tension that had been clawing at him since he'd first seen Teresa here on the island was as raw and fresh as ever. He felt as tightly wound as he ever had and he knew that his revenge plan had suddenly turned on him.

He turned away from the garden view and looked at the well-lit house behind him. Through the wide bay window in the huge kitchen, he could see Teresa with Melinda, and the two women seemed to be having a good time. No one would guess that only a couple of hours ago, Teresa had been wild in his arms. Or that he'd seen hurt in her eyes when he'd dismissed what they'd shared.

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 "b.u.t.ting 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 sc.r.a.ped one hand over his face. "Okay, yeah, I am going a little nuts. But d.a.m.n, Rico. I'm about to be a father. That's just scary as h.e.l.l."

"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 h.e.l.l 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 G.o.d'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 h.e.l.l 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 d.a.m.n 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. d.a.m.n, 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 gla.s.s, 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.