Читать книгу The Millionaire's Cinderella - Anne Marie Winston - Страница 10

Rio sat once more in the hospital cafeteria, this time with only a cup of black coffee. He didn’t dare waste another meal in case he was summoned back to the emergency room or to the labor and delivery floor. It was now nearing 8:00 p.m., and he still had three hours left to take calls before a resident relieved him. Regardless, he was determined to get out of there, even if it meant coming back in.

He should be tired, dead on his feet, but he wasn’t, and he had Joanna Blake to thank for that. He’d almost gone after her, waited outside the dressing room and tried again to convince her to join him.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t. Normally, he didn’t give up easily where women were concerned, but this woman was different. She sure as hell wasn’t his type, surprisingly innocent—except for that mouth of hers. A great mouth, even when she chose to use it as a weapon on him, in every respect. She was also a mom.

Withdrawing the picture from his scrub shirt pocket, Rio studied the young boy he presumed to be Joanna Blake’s son. He could be wrong, but he doubted it. The kid had the same eyes, the same dark hair, the same smile. He flipped it over again, as he’d done several times over the past few days.

Joseph Adam, age 3. My heart. Definitely something a mother would write.

Rio had seen the picture fly onto the floor New Year’s Eve when Joanna had dropped her bag on the run. But before he could shove his way through the crowd and retrieve the photo in order to return it to her, she had already flown away like a dove finally emancipated from a cage.

He should’ve given it back to her tonight, but he hadn’t. Maybe he viewed it as some connection to her. Maybe he would use it as an excuse to see her again. Maybe even tonight.

Why not? He wasn’t one to avoid risks outside his medical practice. Besides, he wanted to know more about her. Wanted to know, if he kissed her again, would he still have the same gut-level reaction? Would it go beyond a kiss? Only one way to find out.

Rio decided it would take her several minutes to dress, make a call, then another fifteen or so to check on Mrs. Gonzales. Only fifteen minutes had passed since he’d left her in the hall. If he hurried and changed into his street clothes, he might catch up to her at the bus stop.

On that thought, he shoved his chair back and went in search of a woman who might not want to be found. Not that he’d let that stop him.

“Nice night, huh?”

Joanna glanced at the man who’d seated himself on the bus-stop bench where she now waited. She’d been so lost in her thoughts—thoughts of Rio Madrid—she hadn’t even noticed his presence until that moment. He was big and beefy, his round ruddy face covered by a full reddish beard. He wore only a faded denim vest— ridiculous considering the cold—his hamsize arms sporting tattoos that ran together in a webwork of blue, covering almost every inch of his skin.

A scruffy scarecrow of a guy wearing a dirty cap and threadbare flannel shirt, his lecherous grin exposing a sparse display of yellowed teeth, stood at the opposing end of the bench. The smell of stale beer and cigarettes carried on the faint January breeze, causing Joanna’s empty stomach to pitch.

The big man nodded toward his partner. “Mind if my friend has a seat?”

Before Joanna could issue a protest, the second man took his place on the other side of her. Wonderful. Flanked by offensive lowlifes.

Focusing straight ahead at the street, she became more than a little wary when in her peripheral vision she noted both of them staring.

“You want a smoke, missy?” the skinny guy said, his voice rough as unfinished pine.

She hugged her arms closer to her middle and shot him a look of disdain. “No, thanks.”

The big guy released a grating chuckle. “Maybe you want to go down the street and have a beer with us. Take a walk on the wild side.”

Not with these animals. “I don’t drink.”

The ogre inched closer, his massive thigh brushing hers. “Aw, come on now. Everyone needs a drink now and then.”

Considering his breath, he’d probably had plenty. She shuddered. “Not me.”

He tipped his head close to her shoulder. “You sure are sweet.”

Joanna bolted from the bench and faced them, trying hard to hide her fear behind a toughness she didn’t feel. “Don’t trust appearances, mister. I can be downright mean when I have to be.”

The ape snorted. “I bet you can be bad, too.” The skinny one let go a round of wheezing chuckles.

Joanna slipped her hand inside her bag, then remembered she hadn’t replaced her pepper spray since she’d changed purses the other night. Turning toward the street only enough to keep the pair in her sights, she silently cursed her stupidity for not getting out of there at the first sign of trouble. Where was the darned bus?

Joanna sensed movement, then felt the heavy weight of a huge arm draped around her neck, a hand rubbing her shoulder. Frozen by fear, she stiffened her frame and tried to plan what she should do next. Kick him in the groin and run back to the hospital? The parking lot stood between her and the main building. A big parking lot filled with only a few cars and probably fewer people.

No, she wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t let them see her fear.

With a sigh, she yanked the man’s arm from her shoulder and stepped to one side. “Look, I’m not interested in a beer, or a good time. I’m heading home to my husband who happens to be a cop. So if I were you, I’d keep my hands to myself before I drew back a nub.”

“I’d do what the lady says, because if she doesn’t take care of you, I will.”

Joanna looked from her harassers to Rio Madrid, standing behind the bench, his hands hidden away in the pockets of a black leather jacket, his eyes dark and intense. He looked predatory, ready to pounce.

He came around the bench and put himself between Joanna and the strangers. “Move on, amigos. Find yourself some other woman.”

The ragtag pair faced him. The big one was several inches taller than the doctor and looked just as threatening. “Maybe we don’t want another woman.”

Rio wrapped one arm around Joanna in a protective embrace. She heard a click and realized someone had produced a knife or a switchblade. Her throat constricted, her body stiffened. Then she realized it was the doctor who had the weapon when the giant glanced at Rio’s hand that Joanna couldn’t see.

The man backed off, looking paranoid. “Okay. Take her. She ain’t that great, anyway.” He turned away, his partner close on his heels muttering, “Crazy cop.”

Rio braced his hands on Joanna’s shoulders and turned her to face him. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern.

“I was handling them just fine.”

“Looks to me like he was doing all the handling.”

“I’m sure he’s harmless. He certainly couldn’t get away fast enough from you. Then again, maybe it was the knife.”

Rio dropped his hands and produced the weapon in question from his jacket, snapping open the lengthy blade with a click. “I’ve had it since I was thirteen. It’s dull as dirt, but it looks like it could do some damage.” He retracted the blade and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Obviously it was convincing enough,” she said.

“Either that, or he thinks I’m your husband working undercover. He probably has some pot stashed somewhere. So is it true?”

Joanna couldn’t help but smile, mainly from relief. “He didn’t offer me any pot, just a walk on the wild side.”

Rio’s smile came halfway, but was no less effective than a complete one. “I meant the thing about your husband being a cop.”

“I’m divorced, and no, he wasn’t a cop.” He wasn’t much of anything. “Chances are my ex would’ve tried to pay those creeps to leave me alone, unless he decided to let them have me.” Joanna clamped her mouth shut. She couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing. Never had she talked so openly about Adam to anyone. She wasn’t inclined to let her bitterness show.

The doctor streaked a hand over his scalp. “Sounds like good riddance on all counts.”

She couldn’t agree more. She also didn’t understand Rio Madrid’s sudden appearance, even though she certainly appreciated it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you, and I’m glad I did.”

So was Joanna, but she wouldn’t make that admission. “Is something wrong with Mrs. Gonzales?”

“No, she’s doing great.”

“Then what can I do for you?”

“I thought I’d try to convince you to have that cup of coffee.” He studied her for a long moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m cold.” She was also lying.

Stripping out of his jacket, he put it around her shoulders. It smelled like leather and the spicy scent that had washed over her sparked her fantasies, that one memorable night in his arms.

“Better?” he asked.

She was somewhat warmer, but not as warm as she’d been when he’d held her close to his side. “Much, but now you’re going to be cold.”

He rubbed a hand across his chest, covered only by a thin black T-shirt. “Don’t worry about me. I’m hot most of the time.”

Joanna had no answer for that, at least not a verbal one. Right now she was heating up fast in response.

“I take it you don’t own a car,” he said.

“I do, but it’s at home, broken down.” A perfect match for her apartment.

“Then I’ll take you home.”

At that moment, the bus pulled up to the curb, all squealing brakes and spewing fumes. “That’s not necessary. My ride’s here.”

Rio nodded toward the two thugs now boarding the vehicle. “You really want to do that?”

She looked at the bus, then back at him, unsure of which road to take. “Well, actually…”

He raised his hands, palms forward. “I promise I’ll keep my hands on the steering wheel. You’ll be safe with me.”

Joanna didn’t feel at all safe with him, not that he presented a physical threat, or at least the kind that the seedy jerks had posed. But there was something very dangerous about Rio Madrid, the kind of danger that a woman could easily take pleasure in. The kind Joanna would be smart to avoid.

She also didn’t like the thought of him seeing where she lived, a crime-ridden neighborhood on the far side of town. But more so, Joanna hated the prospect of getting on the bus with two questionable characters, so she found herself saying, “Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.”

This time Rio’s grin came full force, a sensual explosion. “No trouble at all.”

If only Joanna could believe that she wasn’t borrowing more trouble with Dr. Rio Madrid.

Rio took the narrow streets slowly, surprised by the place Joanna Blake called home. Not that he hadn’t seen its kind before. Every town had one, an area full of lost souls caught in the throes of poverty. Not only had he seen it, he’d lived it until he’d turned fifteen. By that time good fortune had played a part in his future and he’d moved up in the world—a world he’d never quite fit into.

He passed the rows of rickety apartments and small clapboard houses, noting a lot of activity on the streets, and none that looked within the law. Probably a lot of drug deals going down, gunrunning, all kinds of dangerous happenings—things the woman beside him should never have to be exposed to.

He sent a quick glance in Joanna’s direction. “Do you live alone?”

She continued to stare straight ahead. “Yes, I do.”

He wondered about the boy in the picture. Maybe he’d been wrong. “No kids?”

“Actually, I have a son.”

As he’d suspected. “But he doesn’t live with you?”

“No.”

Rio’s curiosity got the best of him. “He lives with his dad?”

“No. He’s with my mom in the Texas Panhandle.”

“That’s a long way from here.”

“Yes, but I don’t have a choice at the moment.”

Rio hated the pain in her voice. “Why not?”

She sighed, an impatient one. “Just look at where I live. It’s not fit for most adults, much less a child.”

“Then why don’t you move in with your mother?” As if that were any of his business.

She shrugged and continued to stare out the windshield. “I wish I could, but I can’t. There are almost no job opportunities in my hometown. I have a lot of debts, and working in a larger city gives me more pay. I’m hoping to get back on my feet this year, find a better place to live so I can move my son back here with me.” She sat forward and pointed. “Up that next alley. You can park beside my car. It’s the ugly white one.”

Rio turned the truck up the potholed pavement and to the space next to the car she’d indicated. Behind them sat a brown brick building, three floors high, shutters hanging out of kilter from windows covered by burglar bars. The scraggly lawn was littered with debris and so was the alley, with several old tires stacked against the building among broken beer bottles.

“Welcome to paradise,” Joanna said as she opened the door.

Rio got out and encountered something hard beneath his foot. He looked down to find a used syringe under the toe of his boot, thankful he’d stepped on the plastic, not the needle. Kicking it aside, he walked to her car.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

She hung back at the front of his truck. “I don’t know. It won’t turn over.”

“Pop the hood.”

“What?”

“Pop the hood. I’ll take a look.”

Reluctantly she withdrew her keys and unlocked the car door, then slipped inside and tripped the release. Rio lifted the hood but the muted rays coming from the guard light didn’t afford him enough illumination.

Joanna joined him at the hood and leaned over the engine beside him. Having her so near didn’t help his concentration. “I can’t see,” he said. “I need a flashlight.”

“I don’t have one in the car.”

Their arms brushed and Rio nearly bumped his head when he straightened. “You should always carry a flashlight. I keep one in the truck.”

“I suppose you’re always prepared.”

He grinned. “Always. With everything.” Except he hadn’t been prepared for her, especially not his immediate reaction when she stood so close, or his need to kiss her once more. But he wouldn’t. Not now.

Glancing over his shoulder at the apartment building, he asked, “Which one is yours?”

“Second floor. Apartment 202.”

He braced his hands on the edge of the engine and leaned into them. “Tell you what. You go on up and make some coffee and I’ll see if I can tell what’s wrong here.”

“You really don’t have to do that. Besides, I don’t have the money to pay you.”

He straightened. “You can pay me with some coffee.”

“But—”

“No argument. And hurry. I might fall asleep on my feet if I don’t get some caffeine soon.”

“Okay. I’ll bring it down.”

“I’ll come up and get it.”

She looked more than a little worried. “Are you sure?”

“Unless you want me to come up now and check out the place, make sure there aren’t any more criminal types waiting for you.” Considering the surroundings, Rio realized that might be a real possibility, and he hated the fact that she had to come to this place every night alone.

She started toward the entrance without giving him a second glance. “I’ll be fine until you get there.”

As Rio watched her walk away, the slight sway of her hips encased in nice-fitting jeans, he realized she was more than fine. And he was in major trouble.

When Joanna heard the knock on the door, she wasn’t at all fine. In fact she was nervous over Rio Madrid’s arrival. She fumbled with the spoon in her hand, then dropped it into the cup before she made a total mess of her stained and cracked kitchen counter.

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door but left the chain intact until she peeked outside. After verifying it was the doctor, she slipped the chain and allowed him entry.

She felt uneasy, self-conscious, when he surveyed the efficiency apartment that consisted of only a small kitchen and dining/living room area that also served as her bedroom. The lone bathroom with its rusty pipes and chipped tile could barely qualify as closet-size although her clothes hung on the shower-curtain rail, the only place available.

“It’s not much,” she said after tolerating the silence for a few more moments.

“I’ve seen worse.” His gaze traveled toward the water-stained ceiling while he noted the sound of an overloud stereo shaking the walls from excessive bass.

“My neighbors like to party,” Joanna said.

“Sounds that way.” He turned his attention back to her. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost two months.” Two months too long.

His took a slow visual excursion down her body. “And you’re still in one piece?”

“So far.” She could very well come apart at the seams if he didn’t stop looking at her that way.

He slipped his hands into his back pockets. “I think I found the problem with your car. There’s a loose wire leading to the starter. I’m pretty sure I fixed it.”

“That’s wonderful news.” The man was too amazing for his own good. “Have you always worked on cars?”

“I’m good with my hands.”

She had no doubt about that. “I’m glad it’s minor. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for major repairs.”

“Don’t get your hopes up yet. I still need to make sure I’ve found the problem. If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll see if the car starts.” He wrapped one hand around his nape and rolled his head on his shoulders. He looked exhausted.

Joanna felt incredibly selfish. “Why don’t we have some coffee first? We can check it when you leave.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She stepped back in the kitchen and took the pan from the stove to pour water into each cup. “I hope instant’s okay. It’s all I have.”

“Do you have a phone?”

She nodded over one shoulder. “Right there on the wall. Help yourself.”

He moved into the small space beside her, bringing with him the scent of night air and incense. Turning on the faucet in the kitchen sink, he began washing the grease away from his hands. “I don’t want to make a call. I want to make sure you have some way to communicate in case you have trouble.”

“Yes, I do, and it works.” For now. She was in danger of losing the service if she didn’t pay her long-distance bills in a timelier manner. But she wouldn’t give up her only means of communication with her child, even if it meant keeping the heat turned off.

While she stirred the coffee, he continued to watch her as he dried his hands on a dish towel. His presence made her wary. As much as she hated to admit it, Joanna was very drawn to Rio Madrid—his heady aura, his dark exotic good looks—though that seemed unwise. But he wasn’t the kind of man a woman could easily ignore— even a woman who had no intention of getting involved with anyone.

After he tossed the towel onto the counter, she handed him one steaming mug. “Do you want anything in it?”

“Just more coffee. I like it strong.”

“Oh.” Joanna couldn’t manage anything else when he reached around her to add another spoonful of grounds to the cup, his chest brushing against her shoulder. That simple contact had her knees threatening to dissolve like the three spoonfuls of sugar she’d heaped into her own coffee.

He leaned back against the cabinet. “Are you feeling calmer now after your encounter?”

For a moment she wasn’t sure which encounter he spoke of, the pleasant one a moment before or the disgusting bus-stop experience. She sipped her coffee, yet tasted nothing. She needed more sugar, less Rio to distract her. “I’m calmer, but I’m also feeling a little stupid. I should have walked back to the hospital when I first noticed the big one.”

“They probably would’ve followed you.”

“Could be. Never trust a man with a tattoo.”

He frowned, then his mouth turned up into a worldrocking grin. “Oh, yeah?”

Setting his cup on the cabinet, he faced her and tugged the hem of his shirt from his waistband. Before Joanna could respond, he slipped the shirt over his head, taking the band securing his hair with it. And there he stood, bare-chested and gorgeous, his hair flowing to his shoulders like an ebony waterfall.

Before Joanna could ask just what he thought he was doing, her eyes centered on his chest. Lean muscle defined his torso; a triangular tuft of dark hair covered the space between his nipples. Although she knew better, she couldn’t stop her gaze from tracking the path leading to the band on his low-riding jeans that he had managed to unsnap without her noticing. Slowly he lowered his zipper partway, leaving her speechless, excited, unable to move. Then the tattoo came into view.

Below his navel, a black jungle cat horizontally spanned the tight plane of his abdomen, interrupting the trail of masculine hair leading downward. Joanna’s mouth dropped open but she snapped it shut to muffle her sharp, indrawn breath. The tattoo looked powerful, provocative, impressive.

When Joanna finally looked up, she found his smile absent and his expression disarming. “Does this make me untrustworthy?” he asked in a low, spellbinding voice.

Her gaze traveled back to the tattoo and she took in the details, while the awareness that he was watching her sent electricity racing along her nerve endings. As far as Joanna was concerned, this particular artwork made him that much more sensual, seductive, mysterious. She had the overwhelming urge to touch it, to see if it was as silky as it looked. She was as drawn to that tattoo as she had been to its owner on New Year’s Eve— as she was tonight. Without regard for common sense, she breezed a fingertip across the cat—only to be stopped by the doctor’s grip on her wrist.

He released a slow, strained breath. “Normally I might say, ‘Feel free to keep touching,’ but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Not unless you realize you’re stirring up trouble.”

Joanna’s eyes moved to the obvious bulge below the waistband of his jeans, which were faded to a bleachedout blue in some hard-to-ignore places. Her face flamed from mortification, from totally forgetting herself, forgetting whom she was with, what she was doing. Again.

She dropped her hand to her side but couldn’t bring herself to contact his powerful golden gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…I don’t know. It looks so soft.”

“Take my word for it, it’s not.” His tone was wry, his voice grainy, deep and deadly.

She raised her eyes to his, finding them as enticing as they had been after he’d kissed her that night in the ballroom. Grasping for an innocuous question, she asked, “Is it a panther?”

He looked down at the tattoo. Joanna couldn’t seem to stop herself from looking, too. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he ran one sturdy, square finger along the jungle cat’s back, much the same as she had, causing Joanna to shiver. “It’s a jaguar. My onen, or so my mother told me.”

“Your what?”

He redid his jeans, slipped the shirt over his head and secured his hair back in the band, much to Joanna’s disappointment. “Onen. My animal, or the animal assigned to me at birth. My mother was of Mayan descent. She believed in the folklore.”

“So you’re Mayan?”

“That and a few other things. Spanish royalty, reportedly a white missionary a couple of generations back. My family has a strong history of forbidden love.”

“Forbidden” pretty much summed up Joanna’s reaction to this man. An enigmatic, unpredictable man who held her imagination captive, kept her fantasies churning and her pulse erratic. “Where’s your mother now?” she asked, searching for something that might take her mind off his unmistakable aura, his blatant sensuality.

A fleeting sadness passed over his expression. “She died a few years ago. She was a good woman, a little misguided in her beliefs, but she was charitable to people in need.”

“Like her son?”

His smile crooked the corner of his lips, a decidedly cynical smile. “Don’t peg me wrong, Joanna. I enjoy my success and all that it brings.”

“But you helped the Gonzaleses, knowing they didn’t have any insurance and not much money.”

“I do that on occasion, but I still have paying patients. I’m not opposed to making money.”

Exactly something Joanna’s ex would have said, only he had been inclined to involve himself in get-rich-quick ploys, not honest work.

The conversation lulled as Rio Madrid continued to scrutinize her with penetrating eyes near the color of a harvest moon, as if he had some need to interpret her feelings, uncover her very soul.

Joanna struggled to come up with more small talk, but she had trouble assembling her thoughts with his steady gaze now on her mouth. At least he hadn’t mentioned that night…

“About the other night,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.

“The other night?” she repeated, as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yeah, New Year’s night. I find it hard to believe you don’t remember, because I haven’t been able to forget, querida.”

She shrugged, trying to affect nonchalance even though both her body and soul reeled in reaction to his declaration and endearment. “I thought maybe you didn’t recognize me.” She was secretly thrilled that he had.

“I didn’t at first, until you smiled.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “You have a great smile. A great mouth.”

Joanna couldn’t ignore the tingles produced by his touch or her heart’s incessant pounding. “Do you always kiss females you don’t know?” she asked, her voice coming out too high.

He moved his palm to cup her cheek the same way he had that night. “Not normally, but you looked like you could’ve used a little company.”

She could use some strength at the moment, a lot of strength, in order to resist his lure. “I’m used to being alone. Not that I didn’t appreciate the gesture.”

He stroked his thumb back and forth along her jaw, her chin, grazing the corner of her lip with each pass. “Is that all you felt? Gratitude?”

She couldn’t begin to describe what she’d felt when he’d kissed her, what she was feeling now with him so close, his hand on her face, his eyes focused on her mouth, her will caught firmly in his grasp.

Then he lowered his head, slowly, slowly, and softly kissed her, no more than a tease, a taunt, but it left Joanna wanting as she’d never wanted before…

The shrill of a siren interrupted the moment. Joanna pulled away from him and walked to the window to survey the scene, as much to catch her breath as out of concern for the familiar activity downstairs. Three patrol cars pulled up at the curb near the front of the building and several armed officers dashed toward the entrance. Nothing she hadn’t seen before.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. “You’re not safe here, Joanna.”

She hugged her arms to her chest. “I don’t have a choice.”

Rio took her arm and turned her to face him. His sultry expression had been replaced by one of unease. “Yes, you do have a choice.”

“I promise I don’t. I’ve looked all over the city for another place to live and I can’t find anything I can afford.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked in the right place.”

“What do you mean?”

He dropped his hands and took a step back. “This might sound crazy, but you can live with me.”

Crazy? Of all the absurd suggestions, this one had to top the list. “I don’t think so, Dr. Madrid.”

“It’s Rio, and let me clarify what I mean. I have an older restored house in a well-established neighborhood. There’s a nice room in the third-floor attic. It’s pretty big, and comfortable, with a private bath. The lady I bought the house from kept it as her reading room. You’d be comfortable there. And safe.”

No matter how tempting the thought, she wouldn’t feel safe—at least from an emotional standpoint—living in the same house with Rio Madrid, even if the place were a mansion. He already presented a huge temptation, a threat to her sanity and a menace to her emotions.

Joanna had no intention of getting involved with another man at the moment, even if he was a successful doctor. She had more than enough worries to contend with. “I really appreciate the offer, but I barely know you.”

“You know me well enough to realize that I have your best interests at heart.”

How could he sound so certain? “Why would you want to do this for me?”

“Because I’m worried about your safety.”

She shook her head. “But I hardly have enough money to pay my rent here. My mother lives on a fixed income and I have to send money for my son. I have all these bills, thanks to my ex, and then—”

“You could pay me in other ways, nonmonetarily speaking.”

Of all the nerve. “I will not be your—”

“Let me rephrase that. Do you cook?”

The man was frustrating her beyond belief, not to mention making her seriously consider his offer. “I’ve been known to prepare a meal or two.”

“I’d like that every now and then. It beats canned pasta and frozen dinners.”

Joanna fought the urge to say yes. Fought the allure of his tempting topaz eyes and renegade’s smile. Fought her own needs and desires making themselves known for the first time in ages. She couldn’t very well see him on a daily basis and keep all of that need out of the mix.

“Again, I really do appreciate the offer,” she said. “But I can’t accept.”

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he withdrew a photo and handed it to her. “If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for him.”

Joanna stared at the picture of Joseph for a long moment, the one she thought she’d lost, shock momentarily robbing her of her voice. “Where did you find it?”

“On the ballroom floor. I saw it fall, but by the time I got to it, you were gone.”

Joanna held the snapshot close to her heart, so very thankful for its return. She had many pictures of her son, but this one was her favorite. She met Rio’s eyes and found compassion there. “I owe you a lot for this.”

“You owe your son, Joanna. He deserves to have his mother safe and secure until you two can be together again. I’m giving you that opportunity.”

He was giving her too much food for thought, too much logic. She should resent him for using Joseph to confuse her, but she also knew that what he’d said was true.

She surveyed her son’s innocent eyes, his sweet smile, and suddenly felt as though the choice had been made for her.

Joanna raised her eyes to Rio Madrid’s, finding herself victim to his charismatic pull, as if he alone held the power to bend her will. Bend her battered heart. She could not, would not, allow that to happen.

“I’ll consider your offer, but if I decide to say yes, it will be for my son.”

Never for herself.