Читать книгу The Millionaire's Cinderella - Anne Marie Winston - Страница 12

“You have a fountain in your pool.”

Rio couldn’t stop the urge to tease Joanna a little. He had trouble stopping any urges where she was concerned. “A pool? No kidding? I didn’t realize that. Guess I should go into the backyard more often.”

Joanna glanced at him over one shoulder and smiled. “You are just full of it today, aren’t you?”

Rio couldn’t seem to get his fill of looking at her. He took the last bite of his sandwich and sat back in his chair, enjoying the view of Joanna staring out the breakfast nook’s window. Her dark hair spiraled into curls between her shoulder blades. Natural curls, Rio suspected. She did things to jeans that shouldn’t be allowed. She did things to him that would definitely be considered downright sinful.

Her slender hand rested against the pane, her nails short and neatly trimmed. Good, Rio thought. Long nails meant hard-to-hide scratches from lovemaking. And why the hell he believed that would happen between him and Joanna Blake would be anyone’s guess. But something told him it could happen. Would happen. The carnal tension between them was gathering force, brewing like a spring storm, not that she would acknowledge it. At least not yet.

Pushing back from the table, Rio joined her at the window, standing close, but not too close. Patience would probably be the best way to handle what was happening between them, had been happening since New Year’s Eve. Patience was something unfamiliar to him. He was the kind of guy who jumped in feetfirst and asked questions later when it came to his private life. Not a good idea in this instance.

Focusing on the backyard where Gabby lay gnawing a rawhide bone beneath an ancient cypress, he said, “There’s a small hot tub in the corner of the pool with room for three.”

“You, Gabby and your current girlfriend?” He heard a smile in her voice, and curiosity.

“Are you trying to get me to come clean about my personal life, Joanna?”

She turned, putting them in closer proximity yet maintaining an intangible distance. “It’s really none of my business, but I imagine you’ve had a woman in your hot tub before.”

He had, but not in a while. “I’ve been too busy to utilize my hot tub. Not today, though. Are you game?”

She frowned. “Are you nuts? It’s forty degrees outside.”

“That’s why they call it a hot tub.”

“It’s also still daylight.”

He propped one hand on the window beside her head, leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Are you shy, Joanna Blake?”

“I’m a mother, for Pete’s sake.”

“And mothers are forbidden to use hot tubs?”

“Mothers don’t have the kind of figures most twenty-year-olds have. At least this mother doesn’t.”

He allowed his gaze to slide down her body and linger in certain places. He wanted to do the same with his hands. “I seriously doubt that.”

“You’re seriously wrong.” A blush stained her fair cheeks. “Besides, I don’t own a decent swimsuit.”

“Who said anything about a swimsuit?”

She turned back to the window. “What’s in that building over there?”

Obviously she was more interested in continuing the tour than his suggestion. “It’s a pool house with an attached garage. I keep my bike in there.”

“Ten speed?”

“Harley.”

Once more she faced him, this time hugging herself as if she needed protection from him. “You own a motorcycle and live in a mansion. I’d say you are a walking contradiction, Doctor.”

He wished she’d call him by his first name. Right now he wasn’t the doctor. Right now he was a man in the company of a woman that he wanted too much. “Is that a problem?”

“Not really. It’s just that you’re not at all what I thought you’d be. At least at first.”

“And what was that?”

“An average male on the make. Your generous nature surprises me. So does your attraction to material things.”

He took a step back, guilt dogging his steps as he made his way back to the table and reclaimed his seat. “I’ve heard it all before, that old ‘the love of money is the root of all evil’ clause. But once you’ve been without it, money’s not a bad thing to have. I imagine you know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Joanna joined him at the table and sat across from him with her blue eyes trained on his face. “I take it you didn’t have much when you were growing up.”

“I had next to nothing. My parents were migrant farmworkers, chasing the next job. After my father died, my mother moved from California to Texas. She worked as a fruit picker during the season and hired out as a domestic the rest of the time.” And a midwife at night, something he didn’t care to discuss.

“What happened to your father?”

Rio didn’t like dredging up the past, but he’d left himself wide open to her questions. “An industrial accident involving some kind of machinery. I don’t know many details.”

“I’m sorry.” She sounded as if she truly was.

“Don’t be. I don’t remember him. I was too young when it happened.”

She rested her cheek on one palm. “So what made you decide to become a doctor?”

A long story, but he’d try for a condensed version. “My mother worked for a retired colonel. He knew I had an interest in medicine, so he took me under his wing since he didn’t have any kids.”

Joanna leaned forward. “Did he put you through medical school?”

That, and hell on earth. “Yeah, but first he put me into boarding school when I turned sixteen. I hated it. They made me cut my hair, robbed me of my heritage so I’d fit in. I’ve worn my hair long ever since.”

“Your culture’s very important to you, isn’t it?”

“Some aspects, yes, some not.” Especially those that defied logic.

“But you believe in your…What did you call it?”

“My onen. Mayan mythology. The sun god is a jaguar. It also foretells the arrival of foreigners.”

“Foreigners?”

“Yeah. I think my mother chose that for me since I was born in the States. But she swore it came to her in a dream. I have a hard time believing it.”

He’d never put much stock in dreams before he’d met Joanna Blake, before she had begun to disturb his own dreams. Surreal dreams. Sexual dreams.

Maybe his mother had been right to give him the onen. Joanna had come into his life, foreign to him, with a deeply engrained love for her child and a strong conviction in her work ethic. The consummate mother. A woman who deserved a considerate man to attend to her needs. Some of those needs Rio would have no problem tending, others he wasn’t so sure.

Suddenly he wondered if this was the woman his mother had told him about, the stranger who would change his life for the better. A nice thing to consider, if he really believed in all that mystical stuff. Maybe he was just too jaded to believe in forever-after or love. He sure as hell didn’t intend to settle down, conform to what society considered fitting—a marriage license and the average two kids.

Joanna remained silent with her elbows propped on the table, palms forming a resting place for her cheeks. She stared off into space as if she’d left him mentally, if not physically. He had a good idea where her thoughts had taken her.

“You’re thinking about your son,” he stated.

Joanna looked up, startled. “As a matter of fact, I was.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?”

She straightened and fidgeted with a corner of the cloth place mat. “Two days ago, when I told my mom I was moving.”

“I bet it’s tough on him, being without you.”

She smiled a sad mother’s smile. “It is. Tough on us both. But he’s a strong little boy. He’s had to be.”

Rio wanted to know more about her, what made her tick. What made her sad other than the absence of her son. “Tough divorce?”

“In some ways, yes. Especially on Joseph, not that he had a great relationship with his father.”

“So his father’s totally out of the picture?”

“Very much so. I don’t even know where he is. Not that I want to know.”

Sorry bastard. “Does Joseph ask about him?”

“Sometimes, but like you, he was too young to remember much about his dad. Joseph’s the best thing that came out of my marriage. He’s always been my strength.”

The unshed tears glistening in Joanna’s blue eyes caused something deep inside Rio to hurt for her, made him want to take away that pain he saw all too clearly, even though she tried to hide it with a weak smile.

“Call him now, Joanna.”

She looked surprised and thankful. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’d like that. But I insist on paying you for the—”

“Forget it. Just call your son.” He nodded toward the phone hanging on the wall.

She quickly rose from the chair and strode to the phone. Rio thought he should probably leave, give her some privacy, but for some reason he stayed, maybe to provide some comfort if she needed it. He doubted she’d ask, though, or easily accept his consolation.

“Joseph, it’s Mommy.” Her face immediately brightened. “You’re playing with your train? I’m so glad you like it, sweetie. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more Christmas presents, but maybe next year.”

A long pause suspended the conversation until Joanna finally said, “I’ll have to see about that bike. But you have to have training wheels until you learn to ride it.”

Rio watched Joanna from the corner of his eye while he cleared the plates from the table. She twisted the cord round and round her finger, swiped at her face now and then, raised her chin and covered her mouth on occasion. He could tell she was trying hard not to cry. If only he could do something to rid her of those tears, at least temporarily. Get her mind off her troubles. Maybe he could.

After she hung up, he held out his hand to her. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

She blinked then stared. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Surely you don’t mean that hot tub.”

“Nope. I want to show you my favorite place.”

Joanna stared with wide-eyed wonder at a room that held every indoor form of recreation imaginable, including a freestanding basketball goal on one end. A pool table sat in the middle; electronic pinball games lined the paneled walls. The only thing that even hinted at adulthood was a bar that resembled something out of a saloon, complete with a mirrored background, shelves full of liquor and inverted glasses of every shape and size dangling from a row of holders above the counter.

“This used to be a formal dining room.”

Rio’s statement brought Joanna back into the real world, or his world, as the case may be. “It looks big enough to be a ballroom,” she said.

“True. The room didn’t have anything in it when I bought the house, so I turned the space into play town.”

Play town was an accurate description, Joanna decided. Perfect, since it seemed Rio Madrid was still a little boy playing at being an adult—conservative doctor by day, adventurous adolescent by night. She’d known his kind before, been married to his kind, as a matter of fact. The kind of man that should be avoided at all costs.

But she couldn’t avoid him at the moment since he was still holding her hand, looking as though he was awaiting approval on a job well done. Looking devastatingly handsome.

Tugging from his grasp, she walked to the leafscrolled wooden pool table, obviously expensive, maybe even an antique, more than likely five times more costly than her car.

She faced him and immediately noticed the pride in his expression. “Very interesting, Doctor. Is this what you do in your spare time when you’re not in the hot tub?”

“Yeah. It helps me relax.” He cocked one eyebrow. “Can I interest you in a game?”

Oh, yes. Oh, no! “What kind of game?”

He made a sweeping gesture around the room. “Take your pick, but I was thinking pool.”

Now, this could be great fun, a chance for Joanna to play her own little game. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a long time. I’ve never been all that good.” Not quite as good as her dad, but she could definitely hold her own.

“I’ll go easy on you.” His mellow, hypnotic voice made her think of slow and easy lovemaking. She suspected he would take his time, using his skilled hands, his mouth…

She should be horsewhipped for thinking such things, but Joanna couldn’t deny that Rio Madrid was the kind of man that fantasies were made of. Nothing wrong with fantasies, she guessed, as long as she didn’t allow them to take flight into reality.

Rio crouched at the end of the table, retrieved the balls from beneath and rolled them onto the felt surface. After he had them racked, he made his way to the cues hanging on the only bare space of wall. He grabbed two then came back to her. “Exactly how much experience do you have?”

A loaded question, especially since he posed it as if it had nothing to do with billiards. She took the pool stick he offered and a deep breath, but couldn’t avoid brushing his hand, couldn’t ignore the electric current that his touch generated throughout her whole body.

“As I’ve said, it’s been a while.” Been a while since she’d played pool, since she’d made love, since she’d even wanted to make love.

“I’ll let you break then. Give you a head start.”

She could use one at the moment, but she inherently knew it would take little time for Rio to catch up.

Determined to focus on the game, she rolled her shoulders to loosen up then walked to the end of the table, lined up the cue ball and studied the angle. Feigning ignorance, she asked, “Is this okay?”

“I’d say that.”

Rio didn’t appear to be looking at the ball, or the cue. He was looking straight at her cleavage, slightly exposed beneath her cotton blouse because of her position. Normally she would scold him. Normally she would button up to the neck and give him a dirty look. But she didn’t feel all that normal. She felt wicked, delighting in the power she seemed to have over him at that moment.

About time. He’d mesmerized her on more than one occasion.

Finally he looked away and removed the rack. “It’s all yours.”

With a little thoughtful planning, Joanna managed to hit the cue ball exactly right, causing it to bounce twice but landing short of the other balls.

She straightened and tried to look contrite. “Sorry. Guess it’s been longer than I thought.”

“Maybe you’re not holding the cue right.” He took his time traveling to the other end of the table but didn’t hesitate when he came up behind her and circled his arms around her, positioning her hand on the end of the stick. Joanna had all the confidence in the world on how to handle a cue, but she didn’t have a clue on how to handle his nearness and still remain composed enough to play the game. He was warm against her back, hard, male, making her feel intoxicated as if she’d raided the old-timey bar and downed all the whiskey.

His breath fanned her face, fed the flame now spanning the length of her. He smelled like incense, spicy and exotic and tempting. Joanna continued to play ignorant, play at this game of chance where the stakes were high and losing all common sense could be the price she would pay if not careful.

“Now hold it steady,” he said in a warm honeyed voice, thick and seductively sweet.

Steady? How could she? “I’ll try.”

The feel of him molded to her backside in all the right places had knocked her self-control for a loop, disturbed the timbre of her voice. She sounded like a mouse and felt like a woman. A woman in dire straits, enveloped in the solid arms of a man-boy with too much charm and the means to make her tremble, which she did, but only slightly.

With Rio’s assistance—help she didn’t really need— she broke the balls, effectively scattering them over the green felt surface, the way her composure scattered in his presence.

Much to her disappointment, and relief, he straightened and moved away.

His grin was confident, distracting. “You don’t have to call the pocket right now since you’re getting reacquainted with the game.”

Joanna smiled to herself. Little did he know, the charade was now off and the competition on.

She leaned forward over the table, sensing Rio’s scrutiny and trying hard to ignore it. If she didn’t, she’d probably bounce the balls like ball bearings across the room with her first shot. “Twelve ball, corner pocket.” After she said it, she did it. And again and again. With little effort, she cleared the table of all the striped balls.

Feeling sassy and satisfied, she said, “Well, Doctor, do you want to take a shot now before I take on the eight ball? I’ll be glad to let you.”

His smile looked sinister, and totally sexy. “You little sneak. Where’d you learn to play like that?”

“My dad.”

“He taught you well.”

“Yes, he did. As a matter of fact, he made a living at being a teacher. English teacher. So did my mom.”

“Do you two still play?”

“He died when I was in college.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I, but he led a full life. I only wish he’d known his grandson.” Joseph had been lacking a good male role model because of that fact, and his own father’s apathy.

Rio laid his cue on the table, not bothering to take a shot. But he sure as heck was shooting holes in Joanna’s resolve when he took the cue from her and laid it next to his then brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Best I can recall, none of my teachers were pool sharks. But then, I don’t remember any of their daughters looking like you, either.”

Joanna forced herself away and strolled to the end of the room near the large picture window. She came upon a train set, intricately detailed down to the tiny pines and miniature houses. She bent and studied the tunnel opening from the foot of a tree-dotted hill. “Joseph would love this. The train I gave him for Christmas is cheap plastic.”

She heard a thwack and glanced over her shoulder to find Rio dispensing the remainder of the balls into the pockets. His thermal shirt, pushed up at the sleeves, revealed his caramel skin threaded with masculine veins. His dark hair veiled his beautiful face when he leaned over, but it didn’t matter. Joanna had practically memorized every detail.

He moved around the table and leaned over to make another shot. “I used to watch one setup from the window at a train shop when I was a kid.” He sent one ball into the pocket then straightened. “I waited a lot of years to have one of my own.”

Joanna turned back to the train to keep from staring at him. When she heard footsteps behind her, she didn’t dare turn around. “Exactly how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” she said, aiming for something simple to say.

His hand came around her to push the control, setting the locomotive in motion along with her pulse. “Literally? Thirty-three.”

She concentrated on the engine billowing steam, the multicolored cars as the train made the rounds on the track. “And how old would you like to be?”

“That depends. When I’m in here, I’m thirteen again. In the outside world, I have to be the grown-up.”

“Well, I passed you up agewise last year.”

“You’re only fourteen?” he asked, mock seriously.

She turned and smiled at him. “Ha, ha. Thirty-four. And a half.”

He inched a little closer, seeming to suck the air from the small space between them. “An older woman. Intriguing. You look much younger. Not fourteen, but I would’ve guessed under thirty.”

“Sometimes I feel ancient.”

He stroked a hand over her cheek while studying her flushed face. “You feel great.”

She was losing it, losing her will to resist him. Not a sensible thing to do, but rationality wasn’t foremost on her mind at the moment. Rio was, with his penetrating eyes and a smile that certainly didn’t belong on a boy. “So you don’t like being the grown-up?” she asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a man when the circumstance calls for it.”

He stopped the train now in mid-whistle, sending the room into silence. Then he pulled her flush against him and claimed her mouth with a kiss that could shake the tracks, the walls, shake Joanna into oblivion. It did. The gentle thrust of his tongue, the searing heat of his body, the strength of his steady hands as they traveled the length of her back then came to rest on her hips, acted on her like a magic charm, a spell she couldn’t escape if her very life depended on it.

She draped her arms around his neck and sent her hands through his silky dark hair to explore. The kiss deepened, wild and needy, hungry and desperate. Desire advanced and her concerns retreated. Under Rio Madrid’s expert guidance, she forgot to be afraid to want.

Rio was suddenly moving, taking her with him, leading her to who knew where. Perhaps a dreamland of his own making, like the mythical god he had spoken of, a sun god creating a firebrand with his mouth moving softly yet firmly against hers. She instinctively knew that he could take her places she’d never been before, if she allowed him.

He spun her around and backed her up without breaking the kiss. The edge of a table nudged her hip, the pool table, she decided, not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered was Rio and what he was doing to her body and her brain.

His lips drifted down the column of her throat, leaving a wet tingling path in their wake. His hand came to rest on the placket of her blouse, causing Joanna’s heart to beat in a crazy cadence. He slipped the buttons with ease, allowing a cool draft of air to caress her heated skin. But the heat came back when his lips floated over the rise of her breasts.

Joanna laid her hands on his bent head, lost in the feel of his mouth on her skin, the deep, damp heat settling between her thighs.

He lifted his head and studied her with a potent golden gaze. “ ¿Me quiere usted?”

She couldn’t deny that she wanted him. She wanted this, wanted more, even though she shouldn’t. “Yes.”

“Diga mi nombre.” He made the demand in a low, persuasive voice.

She understood the Spanish, but not his request. “What?”

“Say my name.”

Rio, her mind shouted, but she feared forming the word in her mouth. If she dispensed with the formality, he would no longer be the elusive doctor. If she continued to allow this heavenly assault on her senses, this prelude to pleasure, he could very well be her lover. And once more, she would be vulnerable to a man who wasn’t what she needed at all.

But she did need this physical contact, to be desired as a woman. To satisfy cravings that had long been missing from her life. To forget herself in the arms of a man whose name meant “river.” A man as seductive as dark waters, his lure a strong current promising to carry her away into uncharted territory.

She hesitated a moment longer, searching his eyes for a reason to stop. She saw only questions, then disappointment before he turned away from her.

Hands fisted at his sides, he muttered, “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.”

Joanna clasped her shirt closed. “Do what?”

“Push you.”

“You didn’t push me. I let it happen.”

He finally turned to her. “You’re not ready.”

She’d certainly felt ready. More than ready, and willing. “How can you say that?”

“Because you can’t say my name. I’ll be damned if I make love to a woman who calls me ‘doctor.’”

Her gaping shirt forgotten, she braced her hands on her hips. “Rio. There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

His gaze went to her exposed bra and a half smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, you said it, but not like you meant it.”

He was driving her to distraction, making her insane. “I don’t understand this at all.”

“You understand it. You won’t acknowledge it.”

She redid her blouse with shaking fingers. “Forget it. This was a mistake anyway. All of it.”

“Is it, mi amante?”

Her eyes snapped from the buttons to him. “I’m not your lover, remember?”

His smile disappeared, making way for a look that could dissolve the pool table behind her. “You will be, Joanna. When you’re ready.”

She hugged her arms to her middle. “You’re mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

He folded his arms across his chest, his face an unreadable mask. “You can lie to yourself. You can pretend that nothing’s going on between us. But I can’t lie. I know how I feel when I’m holding you, and it’s not just minor affection.”

Why, oh, why hadn’t she stayed home New Year’s Eve? Stayed in her wretched apartment? She’d been comfortable with her existence, her celibacy, her choices. Why did he have to come along and disrupt her life? Why him, of all people—a man who made her ache, made her want, made her realize she possessed desires beyond all bounds?

The shrill of the phone startled Joanna and caused her to physically jump.

Rio grabbed up the cordless phone. “Dr. Madrid.” He paced with his back to Joanna. After a time, he said, “Okay, I’m on my way.”

He replaced his phone on the charger and turned. “I’ve got to go into the hospital.”

Already she was missing him, and she hated that. “I thought you weren’t on call.”

“I’m not, but this is a special case. First baby. She’s sixteen, scared. Her boyfriend didn’t stick around. She wants me to deliver.”

Her admiration for him increased more than she thought possible. “I guess she needs you.”

“Yeah. Nice to know someone does now and then.” He sounded almost sad, as alone as Joanna felt much of the time.

He stopped in the doorway. “Make yourself at home. There’s a casserole in the fridge you can heat up for dinner. My housekeeper left it for me.”

“I’ll make do.” She needed to say something, but she wasn’t sure what. “Rio?” The word rolled easily off her tongue.

His smile appeared, slowly. A satisfied smile. “Yeah?”

“Since this is a first baby, you might be a while, so I just wanted to say goodnight and thanks for everything. I hope you get some sleep.”

He braced one hip against the door frame and released a mirthless laugh. “Sleep? Not in a million years.”