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.”
God, 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 sex 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 damn cloak. There was distance in his voice and a careless attitude that tore at the last remaining shreds of five-year-old dreams.
“That wasn’t just sex, 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 sex 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 damn 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 “butting 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.