Chapter Eleven

Maya stretched, and her legs tangled with another pair. They felt different from Bobby’s. She opened her eyes slowly and felt disoriented. Roarke lay beside her with his eyes wide open as he watched her. He had a strand of her hair wrapped around his finger. A gentle smile teased his lips. “What happened?” She sounded hoarse, and her head ached.

“You took a nap. I joined you.”

“Oh.” She frowned, while she tried to remember what had precipitated the nap. She remembered the bath and massage, the two glasses of champagne, deliberately enticing him to look at her… She groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Roarke touched her cheek.

“I feel a little sick.”

“It’ll pass. A shower will perk you up.”

She bit her lip and mustered her courage. She didn’t feel like they had, but she needed to ask. “Did we…?”

Roarke’s eyes widened. “Of course not.” He winced at his sharp tone, but couldn’t pretend she hadn’t offended him. “You were in no shape, and I’m not into passivity.”

Behind his anger, Maya could see genuine hurt in his eyes, and it gave her a pang in the pit of her stomach. “I’m sorry.” Why had she apologized? It was a logical assumption that he would have taken her when she was passed out. It would have fit in with his ruthless personality.

But he wasn’t really ruthless. She could see that from the way he treated her. For two weeks, the opportunity to force her into his bed had been open to him. Maya was in no position to refuse him, but he hadn’t pressed her. He hadn’t done anything but try to please her. She was always the focus of their encounters. Roarke seemed concerned only with her gratification.

He shrugged. “Do you want that shower?” His tone was still cool, although he hadn’t meant for it to emerge that way. She had every right to assume he would take advantage of her. Hadn’t he already?

She nodded and slid from the bed. When she stood up, Maya realized she was completely naked. She froze and scanned the room for her clothes.

Roarke’s breath got trapped in his throat as he looked his fill of her nude perfection. When he had lifted her from the bath, his attention was focused on how to get her to the bed, rather than what she looked like. The lamp he had clicked on when he woke up served to illuminate the creaminess of her skin and cast shadows across her body, while it exposed other delectable parts. The oil from the bath left on her skin gave it a shiny, almost translucent quality. She was well proportioned, with pert breasts, and shapely legs. Her abs were defined, and muscles in her arms rippled under the skin as she reached for the sheet.

She was lithe and toned. He could stare at her all day. He would love to touch her all night. She broke his trance when she fastened the flat sheet around her, sarong-style. Most of her hair had come undone from the barrette, and it cascaded over her shoulders. He could easily imagine her as the queen of an island. He would gladly do her bidding, worship her always and get down on his knees to pray. He dismissed his fancies with a soft sigh. “There’s a fresh towel for you on the counter by the sink.”

Maya hurried into the bathroom to escape the hunger in his eyes—the hunger she suspected was mirrored in hers. Her body still tingled, as if his eyes had been hands and had stroked her most private places. She turned on the faucets, and then entered the spray. The water was almost hot enough to hurt, but it felt good too. As she washed away the traces of oil from the bath, Maya tried to wash away the uncomfortable truth that she wanted Roarke.

She touched the ring on her left hand. It was tangible proof she was Bobby’s woman. Maya had no business thinking about Roarke the way she was. It was bad enough having to play his game, but she certainly shouldn’t be enjoying it, or looking forward to the next round. She shouldn’t imagine it was his hands washing her. She definitely shouldn’t wish that she hadn’t left that spacious bed. If she was still laying with him, he would be touching her. His hands on her body, not hers.

Her breathing grew ragged as she imagined Roarke’s hands on her. She leaned her head against the warm tile and entertained thoughts of asking him to wash her back. She fantasized that he would throw open the glass doors, storm into the shower, pin her to the wall, and make her his. There would be no time for protests. She would be caught in the onslaught of his passion—willingly, eagerly, even.

Time. Maya’s eyes popped open, and her hand fell away from between her thighs. What time was it? The window in the bathroom was covered by a security shutter, so she couldn’t see out. She was well-rested, and the shower had revived her. She felt like she had slept for hours.

Maya rinsed the remainder of the soap away and shut off the water before she stepped onto the bare floor. She took a folded towel from the counter and wrapped its fluffy folds around her. She lifted the other towel, which smelled faintly of soap and Roarke, and briskly dried her hair. She dropped it back on the counter and removed the towel around her. After a quick rubdown, she threw on her underwear, the wrap-around skirt, and the halter. She found her shoes under the sink.

Maya skipped all other grooming rituals and rushed back into the bedroom. Roarke sat in the recliner, wrapped in the comforter from the bed. She frowned at his nakedness. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“My clothes were in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Maya frowned at her asinine question. “What time is it? I don’t have my watch.”

Roarke glanced down at his Rolex. “Three-twelve.”

“In the afternoon?”

He almost laughed at her blatantly hopeful tone. “A-M.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you think of something to tell Bobby so he won’t know.”

She shook her head. “He already knows. It’s my parents and sister I’m worried about. They’ll be here in three-and-a-half hours. With the nightmare at the airports these days, we’ll need to be there by five.”

“He knows?”

Maya’s head lifted at Roarke’s cold tone. “What?”

“Bobby knows about our arrangement?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah. Are you listening to me? I’ve been out half the night, and my family will be here soon.” She went to the nightstand before she remembered he had no phone. “God. How can you live without a phone? I need a taxi.”

Roarke struggled to suppress his anger as he rose from the recliner. “I’ll drive you home. Your apartment is on my way.”

She frowned. “Your way?”

“I don’t live here, Maya.” Despite his preoccupation with thoughts of strangling Bobby, he was able to muster a small laugh. “This place isn’t even Spartan. No one could live here.” But if she were in his bed, day after day, he would be willing to try.

He saw her anxious pacing and sighed. Without waiting for a response, Roarke went into the steamy bathroom to put on his clothes. When reentering the bedroom a few minutes later, he found Maya standing by the door. “I guess you’re ready?”

She nodded. What was Bobby going to say when she showed up at this hour? How could she have been so careless as to fall asleep? The champagne and massage had been too much relaxation, and she had been so tired. Would he understand that? Would he believe that nothing had happened besides a bath and a nap? She closed her eyes and bit back a sigh. She knew the answer already. The best course of action was to not tell him anything. She would just apologize profusely and hope he dropped the issue.

Roarke followed her from the condo and struggled to keep up with the pace she set as they hurried to the elevator. She didn’t slow down until they were in the parking garage attached to the lower floor. She was forced to wait for him as he led the way to a black Lotus, which he unlocked with the remote on his key chain.

Once in the passenger seat, she fidgeted with her purse strap, chewed on her thumbnail, and stole peeks at the radio’s clock. The yellow-orange numbers seemed to glow brighter with each passing minute. “He’s going to be so angry.”

“He’ll understand.” Bobby must be very understanding if he’d let Maya enter this ridiculous game. Roarke’s mouth twisted. Or he was a selfish pig. How could he stand by and let Roarke coerce Maya into bed? If she was his fiancé, no man would ever touch her again. He would give up anything and everything for her. His career wouldn’t have meant anything next to Maya. “Why are you with that bastard?” Roarke silently cursed himself when he blurted out the question.

Maya’s attention had been focused on rehearsing what she would say to Bobby when she got home, so it took her a moment for his words to sink in. “What?”

He shook his head, deciding discretion was the better part of valor. “Never mind.”

She frowned at him and wondered why he had abandoned the question. She chose to answer anyway. “I love him.”

Her voice lacked conviction. He had no trouble detecting the note of uncertainty in her tone. “Why?”

Maya’s reaction surprised her. Whenever her sister asked questions like that, she fervidly defended Bobby. Her hackles rose whenever her family criticized him. Now she found herself at a loss and searched for an answer that wasn’t trite. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the right words. She breathed a sigh of relief when the Lotus turned onto her street. “It’s the pink stucco building.”

Roarke stopped in front of the building. “Do you want me to walk you up?”

Her eyes widened. “No.” She quieted her strident tone to a normal decibel. “This neighborhood is safe.”

He wanted to protest, but Roarke knew she would have a hard enough time when she faced Bobby without him appearing on the doorstep. He could only imagine Bobby’s reaction. “You don’t have to go up.”

His urgent words surprised her. Maya’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“He won’t get violent, will he?”

She bit her lip. Bobby might get violent, but not with her. When they argued, which was infrequently, he had sometimes thrown things, or yelled and cursed, but he wouldn’t hurt her. “I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but Roarke settled for it. He took his wallet from his pants and flipped it open. He rifled through the contents for a moment, and then handed her a card. “That’s my private phone number and home address. If things don’t go well, you can call me.”

The moment struck Maya as surreal. The man who had forced her into a sexual relationship now offered to protect her from her fiancé. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? She slid the card in her purse before she lifted the door handle. There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, so she opened the door.

He put his hand on her arm. “When are your parents leaving?”

“Friday.”

“Did you take vacation?”

“Yes.” Would he ask for an extra day? Would she object? The ambiguousness of her feelings gave her an answer, but it wasn’t one she wanted to examine.

“Let’s skip this week.” He gritted his teeth as he made the offer. “You obviously miss them, and you can’t see them enough with them living in Washington. You’ll want to spend this week with them, focused on them—not thinking about…other things.”

She refused to acknowledge the dart of disappointment. “Okay. I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

He almost blurted out that he would be counting the days, but Roarke restrained himself. She didn’t want to hear that. “Goodnight.”

Maya surprised them both when she leaned over to kiss him. She pressed her lips to his for a brief moment, and then scurried from the car. She rushed up the walkway, idly noting her knees trembled, although it wasn’t strictly nerves about the confrontation with Bobby that made her legs weak. She could still feel Roarke’s lips against hers.

As she unlocked the entrance, Maya turned around in time to see Roarke pull away. She touched her lips and stared after him until his Lotus turned a corner. With a sigh, she entered the apartment building and trudged up the stairs.