Читать книгу Lying in Your Arms - Leslie Kelly - Страница 12

3

MADISON HAD BEEN HAVING the strangest dream. As she slowly woke up, feeling coolness on her face, she realized she must have drifted off on the plane. The cool air had to be coming from the vent over her seat.

She shifted, but didn’t open her eyes right away, liking the dream a little too much. In it, she’d already arrived at her destination—a tropical resort where she intended to hide out for a week. She’d entered her room, exhausted, sweaty, miserable and nauseous from the long cab ride—necessitated by her landing at the wrong Costa Rican airport. Just another example of how quickly she’d had to get out of the U.S., how desperate she’d been to get away.

Things hadn’t gotten much better on her arrival. The doorman had been arguing with a deliveryman, the guy at the check-in desk barely spoke English and kept suggesting she wait for a woman who was apparently on break. She’d lost patience, demanding her key and dragged her own suitcase through the thickly vegetative grounds.

Arriving in her room, wanting nothing but a cold shower and bed, she’d entered, kicked off her shoes, and had been stunned to behold a naked Adonis standing with his back toward her.

That was how she knew she’d been dreaming. Men that gorgeous, that utterly perfect, didn’t exist outside of dreams and fantasies. Even Tommy, admittedly one of the handsomest men alive, wasn’t built like that.

The man’s hair had been dark, almost black, short, thick and wavy. And his bare body had been a thing of art. Broad shoulders had flexed as he’d leaned in the doorway, as if wanting to soak up the outdoors. His strong back was delineated with muscle that rippled with his every movement. Smooth skin encased a slim waist and hips, and he had an unbelievably perfect butt and long, powerful legs.

He’d turned around to reveal a strong, handsome face, masculine and unforgettable. Broad of brow, with deep-set, heavily-lashed brown eyes, slashing cheekbones, jutting chin with a tiny cleft, and a sexy, half smiling mouth.

Unfortunately, her dream state hadn’t left him completely uncovered in the front. Her brain had inserted a coy white towel. She wanted to dive back into the dream to see it drop. Oh, she hoped she didn’t have to open her eyes before that towel dropped.

But, wait...it had dropped. Hadn’t it? For some reason, she remembered it on the floor. But she couldn’t remember if he’d let it fall as he took her into his arms to passionately kiss her or what. Stupid dream really needed to come back and fill in all the blanks. Or at least most of them. The most interesting ones. She wasn’t going to let herself wake up until it did, not even if they landed and started deboarding the plane.

“Open your eyes.”

She growled in her throat.

“Come on, open up. You’re okay.”

That voice was seriously messing with her good dream vibes. But it was, she had to concede, a nice voice. Deep, sexy, masculine. Was it a flight attendant, rousing her for landing? Or was she still dreaming about Mr. Tall, Dark and Built?

“Come on, sweetheart.” Coolness brushed her temples, soft, featherlight, then her mouth. “Take a sip.”

Moisture kissed her lips. Was her dream guy giving her champagne? She swallowed.

Water. Not champagne.

And that moisture on her temples was sliding down into her hairline.

And...and...this wasn’t a dream.

Her eyes flew open.

Definitely not a dream.

“You,” she breathed.

It had really happened. She’d arrived at the hotel, walked into her room, seen a gorgeous stranger, and, what? Fallen and hit her head or something? What other reason would there be for her to be...where was she?

It took only a second for her to gather her wits. Holy shit, she was lying flat on her back in a bed. And this handsome, bare-chested stranger was sitting right beside her, tenderly pressing a damp facecloth to her forehead, eyeing her with visible concern.

“You’re okay. Take deep breaths. Drink a little more.”

She obediently sipped from the water bottle he placed against her lips, trying to kick her brain back into operation.

“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

“I never faint.” Girlie-girls fainted, and Madison was not a girlie-girl. She’d never been the type who’d wilt like a flower, especially not in front of some man.

Some man who’d apparently picked her up, put her on the bed and taken care of her.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

She frowned, still having a hard time believing it.

“Why would I faint?”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Well, that could have something to do with it.”

Yes, it could.

“You don’t look like you’ve slept much lately, either.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a full, uninterrupted night’s sleep. “I slept on the plane. Or...maybe that was a dream of a dream. Hell, I don’t know.”

“You looked pretty uncomfortable when you arrived. Sick maybe.”

Sick? Maybe sick at heart. Heaven knew she had reason, considering what her life had been like in recent weeks.

“Do you think you’re going to be okay? Should I have the hotel call an ambulance?”

“Good heavens, no!” That was all she needed. More attention. So much for slinking unnoticed into another country and hiding from the world for a while. “I just... I was really carsick. I guess I flew into the wrong airport and it took hours to get here, with no air-conditioning and tons of twisty roads.” Ugh, when she thought about all those ups, downs and hairpin turns, she felt her stomach roll over.

“You need to eat something.”

It rolled again. But she knew he was right. Something light would probably be good.

She scrunched her brow, trying to recall the last time she’d sat down for a meal, and honestly couldn’t remember. Crackers on the plane probably didn’t count, though she’d give her right arm for some right now, if only to settle her churning stomach. Whether it was still churning from the drive here or from the fact that this gorgeous stranger was sitting close beside her on a bed, she had no idea.

“Why don’t I order something from room service?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You know what they say, save someone’s life and they become your responsibility.”

She rolled her eyes. “Saved my life, huh?”

He smiled and a tiny dimple appeared in one cheek, taking that dish of handsome and adding a big heaping helping of freaking adorable on top.

“If I hadn’t caught you, you would have cracked your head open. That tile’s pretty hard.”

She suddenly thought about everything that had happened before she’d tripped. The awkward conversation when she’d rejected his services. Services he hadn’t even been offering.

The way they’d drawn closer together, even while she’d been saying no, as if some unseen magnetic pull between their bodies was working them into close proximity.

Tripping over her own stupid feet. Falling. Him catching her.

The towel on the floor.

Gasping a little, she immediately looked down, not sure whether to sigh in relief or cry in disappointment that he wasn’t naked. At some point, he’d grabbed a pair of jeans and yanked them on. They weren’t even buttoned, as if he’d been in too much of a hurry to do more than zip. Maybe because he’d been busy lifting her onto the bed, fetching a cold cloth and water to revive her?

She swallowed hard, her mouth dry despite the water she’d been sipping. Because she had a mad impulse to grab the tab of that zipper and pull it down a little more, to see if he’d taken the time to put on anything else before the jeans. She suspected not.

“Well, you definitely seem to be feeling better.”

That deep, husky voice suddenly sounded more amused than solicitous. Madison realized what she’d done—jerking her attention off his face and ogling him like a stripper at ladies night—and gulped. She took a deep breath, then worked up the courage to look up. It was a slow lift of the eyes. She just couldn’t resist focusing on his body, so close, so big and warm and spicy smelling. She had to note the flat stomach rippled with muscle, the broad chest, wiry hair encircling his flat nipples. Those powerful shoulders, corded and thick, and on up the throat to the strong, lightly grizzled jaw.

And the face. Oh, lord, that face.

That smiling face.

“You done?”

She took a deep, even breath.

“I’m a little confused,” she mumbled, lifting a shaking hand to her head.

“Yeah, right.”

Well, damn, so much for her thinking he was a gentleman. He could at least have pretended not to notice she’d been struck dumb by his looks.

Then she remembered the way he’d swooped down to catch her, how he’d put her on the bed and tenderly taken care of her. She conceded he was definitely a gentleman. Just one with a sense of humor. Considering she’d accused him of being a male prostitute, that was a good thing.

“Am I really in your room?”

“I think so,” he said. Then he frowned. “Although, to be honest, I could be in the wrong one. My key didn’t work, so the bellhop let me in. He didn’t speak English very well...maybe we got our wires crossed and he let me into the wrong one.”

“Well, if that’s the case, feel free to stay.”

One brow shot up.

She flushed. “I mean, they can put me in another room. You’ve already settled in.”

“I really don’t mind being the one to move. You look like you need to stay right in this bed until tomorrow.”

Yeah, and she couldn’t deny she wouldn’t mind if he stayed in it with her. Well, she couldn’t deny it to herself, anyway. She’d deny it to her last breath if he accused her of feeling that way.

“Long trip?”

“You have no idea. I’ve been traveling for what seems like days.”

“From where?”

“Hmm, kind of all over,” she said, thinking about the crazy whirlwind her life had become in the past few weeks, ever since she’d become the woman who’d betrayed the beloved Tommy Shane. Whore, slut, bitch, user, taker, Jezebel—some preacher had lobbed that one from a pulpit—those were some of the names that had been launched at her.

So much for thinking she would escape the breakup unscathed. Could she possibly have been more naive? She’d never in a million years imagined that by becoming the bad girl who’d broken the heart of Hollywood’s golden boy, she would be loathed, vilified and reviled all over the freaking country.

She’d had paparazzi follow her wherever she went. People who recognized her from her picture on the cover of every tabloid on the newsstand greeted her with catcalls and jeers. Her life had been ripped to shreds on blogs and Hollywood gossip shows. A woman had even spit on her while she was grocery shopping.

So she’d taken off to northern California. Unfortunately, everyone knew she had a twin sister who lived in Napa, and she hadn’t been hard to find. Poor Candace and Oliver, who liked to live quietly, had come into the limelight, too.

Then it was off to Florida to visit her parents. Same story. She hadn’t stayed there long. It had been way too much to ask for them to play along when they saw how horribly she was being treated. They knew better than anyone that she and Tommy hadn’t had a real engagement, and her father had been dying to defend her. Or at least to punch a few photographers. Heaven forbid she be the cause of his next heart attack!

So distraught over the whole thing that he’d decided to come out, Tommy had planned a press conference. Madison had told him to forget it. What he needed to do was buy her a ticket to somewhere warm. Before long, she was headed for the airport again.

Costa Rica. It should be far enough away for her to regain her sanity. Lord, did she hope so. If this scandal hadn’t blown over by the time she went home, she didn’t know what she would do.

“Hello?”

She realized her mind had drifted. She cleared her throat. “What?”

“Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere I want to return to,” she insisted vehemently.

“You’re on the run, huh?”

“You might say that.” Something prompted her to add, “You, too?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Not a bank robber, are you?” she asked, her tone light and teasing, even though the possibility that he was an ax murderer had flashed across her mind. Of course, if he’d wanted to chop her into kindling, he could easily have done it while she was unconscious. Besides, nobody with eyes as warm and kind as this man’s could ever be the violent sort. He looked and behaved like a real-life hero.

“No. I stick strictly to convenience and liquor stores for my life of crime.”

“Penny ante,” she said with an airy wave of her hand.

“What about you? Are you a secret double agent seducing your way into state secrets?”

She batted her lashes. “You think I could?”

“Honey, I know you could.”

The vehemence in his tone made her smile fade a bit. They were no longer teasing and joking. The attraction between them had been thick from the moment he’d turned around and found her in his room, but they’d been successfully hiding from it. Except, she suddenly remembered, for that long, heated moment when he’d held her in his arms after he’d caught her. She wasn’t a mind reader, but she’d had no difficulty seeing what was going through his head. Probably because the same wild, erotic thoughts had been going through hers.

Sex with a stranger. Nameless, guiltless, hedonistic. Wild and unforgettable and something never to be regretted.

Oh, yes. She’d definitely been thinking those thoughts.

The fact that he had, too, and that he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation, reinforced her hero assessment. She couldn’t think of him as merely a nice guy...that didn’t do justice to this man. She barely knew him, yet she knew he was ever so much more than that.

As if he’d noticed the warm, approving way she was looking at him, he cleared his throat and slid off the bed, standing beside it. “Think you can sit up?”

She nodded, knowing she could do it on her own but somehow unable to refuse his help when he bent and slid a powerful arm behind her shoulders. He helped her into a sitting position and it was all she could do not to turn her head and nip at the rigid muscle flexing near her cheek, or to breathe deeply to inhale his musky, masculine scent.

Tommy had obviously been right. She needed sex, badly. And for a moment, she found herself wishing her first impression had been correct and the man had been for hire. Because completely unencumbered, drop-your-pants-right-now-and-make-me-come sex sounded pretty damned awesome right now.

“By the way,” he said as he stepped away from the bed, “I’m Leo. Leo Santori. What’s your name?”

“My name?” Considering how desperately she’d been trying to evade the scandal her name created lately, she had to think for a second about how to respond.

“You have one, don’t you? It’s the thing they give you at the hospital before you get to go home.”

“I thought that was a blanket.”

“I don’t think they give you the blankets anymore.”

“Pacifier?”

“Judging by the number of kids my cousins have had, I’m thinking they pretty much ship you out the door with just a red-faced mutant and a big old bill.”

She snickered, liking the good humor in his tone. Then she seized on the rest of his comment. “So you don’t have any of your own?”

“Pacifiers?”

She smirked. “Kids.”

“Nope.” He hesitated the briefest moment before adding, “And there’s no one waiting in the wings to supply any.”

So, he was single? How interesting that he’d felt the need to point that out. How fascinating that the knowledge made her heart leap in her chest.

“What about you?”

“No pacifiers. No kids. Nobody trying to get me to have them.”

“Well, that covers just about everything,” he said. “Except one... Are you going to tell me your name?”

“It’s Madison,” she said.

She didn’t add the last name. No need to tempt fate, right? He didn’t look like the kind of guy who followed Hollywood gossip. Nor did he seem the type who would sell her out to the tabloids. But then, the host of that syndicated radio show hadn’t seemed like the type who would release her private number on the air so she could be bombarded with hateful calls and texts, either.

If this Leo Santori was the curious type, he could get online—she supposed even this reclusive resort had internet access—and check her out on Google. If he had her first and last names, he’d come up with a ton of hits, none of which put her in a very good light. Any of them would probably tip somebody off that they could make a quick buck selling her out to the tabloids. That was one reason she’d chosen this resort—they apparently catered to wealthy clientele looking for privacy.

Which made her wonder just what Leo Santori did for a living, and what he’d come here to escape.

“Okay, Madison, how about you stay here? I’ll go talk to the people at the front desk and try to get this straightened out. And I’ll bring you something to eat when I come back.”

“I couldn’t...”

“Sure you could. Feel free to dive into the pool and cool off while I’m gone. You look like you could use it.”

She glanced out the door, seeing the beautiful swimming pool, so secluded in a private, idyllic garden, and realized he was right. Gliding through that cool water sounded like heaven right now.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked, feeling badly but also really not wanting to make that long trudge back to the front desk again.

“I’m sure,” he said, heading into the bathroom. The bed was angled so that she had a clear view of him standing in front of the large mirror, and she watched as he grabbed a shirt and pulled it on over his massive shoulders.

Gracious, the man’s muscles had muscles. Her heart was being all spastic, thudding and skipping along, and she couldn’t seem to even out her breaths to get the right amount of oxygen. She felt light-headed, no longer queasy but there were definitely butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Her legs were quivering a little, and she was hot between them.

The stranger was totally turning her on, like she couldn’t ever remember being turned on before. He was like a miracle worker, a sex god who got women all hot and bothered for a living...except he apparently didn’t follow through.

Right. Not a gigolo. Check.

Which was too bad.

You’re being ridiculous a little voice in her head said. One thing Madison had never been accused of was having a limited imagination. Considering she wrote stories for a living—one of which was an extremely erotic film that would surely earn an NC-17 rating if it ever got made, and that looked pretty iffy right now—she couldn’t deny she’d been thinking about wild, wicked sex a lot lately. It seemed the longer it had been since she’d had it, the more it filled her thoughts.

So much for coming to a secret hideaway to get some peace and tranquillity. If this guy’s room was anywhere near hers, she would probably turn into some female Peeping Tom before the week was out. Because her mind just wasn’t going to stop thinking about that white towel until she knew what was under it.

“What do you do, anyway?” she asked when he returned, carrying his shoes. Stripper? Male model?

“I’m a firefighter.”

Her jaw fell open, then she snapped it closed. Because, that totally made sense. She could easily picture him carrying ladders and big, thick hoses. He probably carried one around with him all the time.

Stop it. You’re delirious.

“A real American hero?” she said, amused that her instant assessment of him was so dead-on. He really was a hero.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he insisted with a self-deprecating shrug.

“Have you ever saved anyone’s life?”

Another shrug. He looked embarrassed. “I guess.”

“That was a pretty vague answer to a yes-or-no question,” she said, her voice wry. “‘I guess’ is the type of answer you’d give if someone asked you if you had a good time at a party or if you liked a movie. Saving someone’s life seems to require a bit more specificity.”

“Okay.”

“Was that a yes?”

He grinned. “I guess.”

She couldn’t help chuckling. “Where do you live?”

“Chicago. You?”

Hmm. Good question. She’d been raised in Florida. Then she’d moved to New York after grad school, determined to be a world-class journalist. Only, she’d realized she kind of hated journalists. That was when she’d started writing screenplays. And when she’d gotten engaged to Tommy, she’d moved to Southern California. Now, she honestly didn’t know where she was going to live.

“I’m sort of between housing right now.”

That dimple reappeared. “That was a pretty vague answer.”

“I suppose it was. I’ve been living in L.A. But I’m not sure what I’m going to do when I leave here. I might go back to New York.”

“Chicago’s got better pizza.”

Her jaw dropped. “You must be kidding. That loaf of bread with cheese on it that they serve in Chicago has got nothing on a thin, crispy slice of pepperoni from Ray’s.”

He drew up, looking offended. “My uncle and cousin run a pizza place with food that would make your taste buds decide to commit suicide rather than eat pizza anywhere else ever again.”

“With all due respect to your uncle and cousin, you’re mental cheese has obviously slipped off its crust. Because you’re crazy.”

“I challenge you to a taste test.”

“I don’t think we’re going to find very good examples of New York or Chicago style here in Central America.”

“When we get back stateside then.”

Implying they might see each other again after they left here? Oh, how tempting a thought. But she forced herself to concede, an impossible one.

“Maybe,” she murmured, quickly looking away. A sharp stab of disappointment shot through her because she knew she was lying.

She couldn’t see him again. Not at home. Not here. Once he got the room situation straightened out, she needed to avoid him altogether.

Maybe if he’d been the gigolo she’d thought him, she’d take a chance. Or if he’d been anything but the delightful, warm, friendly, protective man she’d already seen him to be. As it was, though, she couldn’t get involved with anybody like Leo Santori. Her life was too freaking messed up right now to involve anyone else in it.

“Well, guess I’ll head up to the lobby,” he said, as if noticing that she’d pulled away, if only mentally. “And I was serious, feel free to use the pool.”

She nodded. “I might do that. Thanks. Maybe you should take my room key, just in case I’m outside and don’t hear you knock.”

He picked it up off the dresser where she’d tossed it and departed. After he’d gone, Madison thought about his offer to use the pool. She had been serious about how appealing it sounded, though she wouldn’t swim the way she suspected he’d been about to. Judging by the towel he’d been oh-so-inconveniently holding, he’d been planning to skinny-dip. That sounded perfect, delightful, in fact. Letting her naked body soak up the breezes and the warmth was just about her idea of heaven.

Of course, she wasn’t quite desperate enough to strip out of her clothes and pose in front of the door the way he had. Even if she did have a very nice ass, if she did say so herself. Still, she wasn’t about to bare it for some stranger...a stranger she’d already decided she couldn’t have, no matter how much she might want him.

Now that he was gone, now that the room wasn’t full of his warm, masculine presence, she managed to pull the rest of her brain cells together. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t trust anyone she met to keep her secret; there was more to it than that. Coming here to Costa Rica had been about hiding out, licking her wounds, staying out of the limelight and being completely on her own. She needed to rediscover the Madison she’d been six months ago, before her crazy engagement, before she’d become chum for an ocean of avaricious sharks.

There was more, though. She just couldn’t do that to him...or to any man. Because, even if she could keep him in the dark about who she really was—and the scandal she’d hopefully left behind in the states—she’d be exposing him to a lot of danger, too. The last thing she needed was to get involved with some guy, then get tracked down by the paparazzi. Any man she spent time with would be subject to the same vicious scrutiny she’d endured, maybe even accused of being the mystery lover she’d cheated on Tommy with. The one who didn’t exist.

She just couldn’t put anybody else through that, especially not someone as great as Leo seemed to be. So, no. There was no room in her life for a fling with a hot fireman. None whatsoever.

Even if she desperately wished there were.