Lying in Your Arms Page 5

  Grinning, he said, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”

  “Scarlet, huh?” She wagged her brows. “Sounds fit for a sinner.”

  “Huh, and a little while ago you thought I was a hero.”

  “I still think that,” she said, the teasing note fading from her voice. “I really appreciate you, uh... Where do I start?”

  “Flashing you?”

  Her sultry laugh heated him more than the late-afternoon sun. “I was going to say catching me, putting me on the bed, putting water on my face, going down to the desk...”

  “Not the flashing?”

  “I think I fainted before I saw anything.”

  “You think?”

  She gave him a mysterious, half-sideways look. “I’ll never tell.”

  “Thanks for being a gentleman.”

  “An interesting description for a female.”

  “I don’t know, it just seemed appropriate.” Not that anybody would ever mistake her for anything but a pure, sexy woman. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  She hesitated, her mouth opening, then closing, and then slowly nodded. “Sure. Of course. I’ll bet you’re tired after your trip.”

  “Not as tired as you were after yours.”

  “I really am feeling better.” She licked her lips, and furrowed her brow, as if considering something, then added, “I do owe you one for all you’ve done. How about I buy you a drink sometime this week?”

  “I got the all-inclusive package,” he said, wondering if she saw the twinkle of pleasure in his eyes.

  “So you buy me a drink.”

  “I could,” he said with a bark of laughter, “considering I paid for two packages.”

  She tilted her head in confusion. Mentally kicking himself for bringing up a subject he really didn’t want to discuss, he edged back into her room. “Meet me by the main pool or the beach bar tomorrow and I’ll buy you that drink.”

  “And then you’ll tell me why you should be drinking for two?”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Sorry, that was pushy. You really don’t have to.”

  “Well, then, maybe I won’t.”

  “Touché,” she said. “See you later, Leo Santori.”

  “Bye, Madison Reid.”

  Her smile faded a little. “How did you know my...”

  “Your last name? They mentioned it at the desk.”

  Realizing she was truly upset about that, he couldn’t help wondering why. Was she really in hiding? Incognito? He had thought from the moment he saw her that she looked familiar, but had been telling himself it was because she looked like the woman he would dream about if he wanted to have the best, most erotic dreams of his life. But maybe it was more than that.

  “Are you famous?”

  “Maybe infamous,” she mumbled under her breath.

  He quirked a curious brow. She didn’t elaborate. A long silence stretched between them, and he realized she didn’t intend to.

  Hmm. Interesting.

  But he wasn’t here to dig into anybody else’s secrets. He’d just wanted to get away from his own drama. No responsibilities, no angst, no worrying about a broken engagement or the fact that his family was apprehensive about him and his friends were insisting he get out there and get laid as some kind of get-back-at-his-ex game.

  He wasn’t into any of that. Coming here to Costa Rica was about leaving everything else behind and just indulging in some sun, some fun and some pleasure.

  And now that he’d met Madison, he began to suspect things were going to be even more sunny, fun and pleasurable than he had anticipated.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME she awoke the next morning, having slept a solid, uninterrupted nine hours—largely because of the fresh air blowing in on her through the screen door all night long, not to mention the utter exhaustion—Madison woke up the next day a little unsure of what to do with herself.

  She’d never been on a vacation alone, though she’d been on plenty of family trips as a kid, of course. And she, Candace and Tommy had gone away together several times, usually on college road trips to dive-places on the beach. There’d also been one skiing trip with a boyfriend. But never had she been in a foreign land all by herself, with nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing to do and no schedule to keep.

  All she had to do was stay hidden from the press.

  She couldn’t help wondering what was going on back in California. She hadn’t spoken with Tommy or with Candace since she’d left Florida, although she imagined they’d both tried to reach her. She’d bet there were messages on her cell phone and texts and emails. They’d been so worried about her, for once both of them thinking they had to be the protectors, the caretakers. She suspected they were constantly on the phone with each other, trying to figure out what to do.

  Though he’d lived with Madison for the past six months, in some ways, Tommy still seemed closer to Candace. Madison was never envious of that, however, knowing their friendship was very different. With creative, artistic, kindhearted Candace, Tommy could be carefree and a little more whimsical. With Madison—much more no-nonsense and blunt than her twin—he had to man up and take responsibility for what he did. And of course, with him, both the Reid twins could be more daring and adventurous.

  As far as she was concerned, the three of them brought out the absolute best in each other.

  Four. There are four of us now.

  Right. Because Candace—her other half—had gotten herself a new other half in the form of a hunky lawyer who’d posed as a gardener and planted baskets of love in Candy’s heart. Blech.

  Madison liked Oliver. She really did. But she still wasn’t sure she would ever get over the feeling that she’d lost something vital when she’d become the second most important person in her twin’s life.

  It’s not four, it’s five.

  Pesky math. But the addition was right. Because Tommy had Simon, and Madison had the feeling he’d be in the picture for a very long time. Meaning she truly was, she realized, the odd man out. Literally the fifth wheel. It was the first time she’d acknowledged it, and a sudden hollowness opened up within her, swallowing some of her happiness and her certainty that nothing could ever really change the relationships she had with those she loved. Things had changed, and continued to change.

  She was the only one who hadn’t found that mystical connection called love. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she ever would. She’d dated men, she’d slept with men, she’d even lived with one before Tommy. But never had she had stars in her eyes the way her sister did, and never had she tap-danced through her day because the right guy smiled at her the way Tommy did.

  “Enough, no more feeling sorry for yourself,” she muttered as she forced her mind toward other things. Like what she could do with plenty of money and an exotic, tropical paradise to explore.

  There were a lot of things she could do, and someone with whom she’d really like to do them. But having fallen asleep last night thinking of all the reasons that being with Leo Santori would be a really bad idea, she had pretty well decided not to do them. Or, to do them alone.

  Zip lining, ecotouring, bodysurfing...they could all be done alone, or with a professional instructor. But the thing she most wanted to do wouldn’t be nearly as fun without Leo.

  Ah, well. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had sex alone, that was for sure. Lately it was all she’d had.

  Of course, she hadn’t exactly tucked any sex toys into her luggage. She wondered how often Customs asked travelers to turn on those odd-looking devices, and was glad she hadn’t had to find out. But the point was, she was left totally on her own when it came to dealing with the intense, er, interest Leo had aroused in her from the moment she’d first seen him.

  Oh, yeah, that picture had been burned in her brain.

  Madison had always had an active imagination, and had never needed erotic stories or movies to rev her engines. Lately, just thinking about the hero of the screenplay she’d written was enough to ge
t her going. The dark, angry, possibly murderous antihero liked his sex rough and dangerous, with floggers and leather ropes and lots of “Yes, sirs.”

  While she’d been writing it, that had been her fantasy: being tied up, forced to be submissive, learning how pain could be pleasurable. Well, maybe not her fantasy, but she’d certainly wondered about it, digging into a deep, previously untapped part of herself to create those scenes that disturbed more than titillated.

  But now, with Leo’s incredibly handsome face and warm, gentle eyes in her mind, she could only think of long, slow, sexy loving that went on for hours and needed no props, just two slick, aroused bodies bathed in sunshine and warm air. No touch off-limits, no sensation forbidden, every eroticism imbued with gentleness and intimacy. And trust. Lots of trust.

  She moaned a little, and began to touch all the places on her body that would have far preferred his hands to hers. Running her fingers over her breast, she plumped it, knowing his big hands would overflow if he were to cup them. She reached for her nipple—hard and filled with sensation. Plucking it, teasing it, she acknowledged that she would never really have lived if that man never sucked her nipples.

  She whimpered, one hand gliding even farther, over her hip, and then her belly. Farther. She brushed her index finger through the tiny thatch of hair—the landing strip look that was so popular in Southern California. Madison had gone for it once she’d moved out there, but hadn’t had a lover since she’d first begun waxing her pubis, and had wondered, more than once, what it would feel like to have a man’s mouth on that bare, sensitive skin. Her own fingers felt divine, made slick and smooth by her body’s moisture. She moved them slowly, gently, stroking herself just right. Her clit was hard and ever so sensitive, and she made tiny circles around it, drawing out the pleasure, picturing his hands, his tongue.

  Another stroke. She gasped, arching her back, curling her toes. Her climax washed over her, quick, hard and hot, and she sprawled out in the bed, trying to even her breaths and calm down.

  It didn’t happen. For the first time in her life, masturbating hadn’t taken the edge off. Yes, she’d had an orgasm, but it hadn’t satisfied her. She was still edgy, swollen and in need, as if she’d been cut off in the middle of intensely pleasurable foreplay.

  It wasn’t hard to figure out why. She wanted a man. One man. Leo. Her own hands just weren’t going to cut it. She wanted him to be the one to make her come, wanted his cock inside her when he did it.

  She’d told herself all last evening during her room service meal and the long minutes she’d thought about him before drifting off to sleep that she couldn’t have him. Couldn’t allow herself to take him. But never had she really acknowledged what that meant. Or how incredibly difficult it would be to stick by that decision. Because if she couldn’t release this tension, she was going to lose her mind. And the only man who could release it for her was one she’d already decided was off-limits. He was too nice, too good, too heroic. Definitely not somebody who deserved to be tarnished with the scandal surrounding her.

  “Damn it,” she muttered. “Why did you have to go and be so wonderful?” If he’d been a jerk or a player, it would have been much easier to let go of her concerns and take what she wanted.

  There was, of course, no answer. Nothing could possibly explain why she’d met a man so sexy, so delicious, so freaking adorable, now, when she was in no position to have him.

  Knowing she couldn’t stay in bed and continue to be sexually frustrated, she got up and tried to decide between a shower and a morning swim. She intended to go down to the open-air restaurant for breakfast. From the hotel information sheet, she’d noticed that it adjoined the large resort pool. She planned to lie out beside it, so there wasn’t much point in showering first, especially since she’d taken one last night before bed.

  But she certainly wouldn’t be able to swim naked in the public pool, and right now, swimming naked—letting cool water comfort and soothe her overly sensitized private parts—sounded like the perfect cure for what ailed her.

  She’d gone skinny-dipping before; what adventurous, Florida-raised kid hadn’t? But she’d certainly never done it in broad daylight. Considering the privacy of her pool, though, she figured she could risk it. Leo certainly had been about to yesterday. Good for the goose and all that.

  Decision made, she got up and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She scooped her hair back into a ponytail, and grabbed the towel she’d used the afternoon before. The one that still carried the faintest scent of the man who’d been holding it when she’d entered her room.

  Yeah, using Leo’s towel had been pretty pathetic. It had also been pretty delightful, rubbing it against her cool body, smelling him, remembering him.

  “Stop it,” she ordered herself, determined to put the man out of her mind for the rest of the day. Hell, for the rest of her trip!

  Going to the screen door, she pulled it open and stuck her head outside, peeking around. It felt so strange to step out into broad daylight—God, what a gorgeous, clear, sunny morning it was—not wearing a stitch. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, glancing back and forth from one side of the walled-hedged area to the other. The tangle of green shrub was thick and practically impossible to see through. Plate-size pink flowers helped, too.

  “Just do it. Just jump in!” she ordered herself.

  So she did. She dropped the towel and wound her way around the lounge chairs that stood under the covered awning right outside the door. Free, excited and naked, she plowed forward, not thinking, just striding the five steps to the pool and taking a leap of faith.

  It should have taken a few seconds for her to hit the water.

  It didn’t. It took forever, considering time had stopped.

  She moved in slow motion, horror washing over her.

  Because, after her feet had left the concrete deck—after she was committed to the pool and it was too late to change her mind—she saw a dark shape swimming toward her.

  A dark, sinuous shape that hit on every one of her most elemental fears and sent hysteria coursing through her body.

  There was nothing else to do. She screamed bloody murder.

  5

  THE ROOM SERVICE breakfast Leo had ordered lived up to the hotel’s reputation for outstanding food. He’d enjoyed every bite of his meal, which he’d consumed outside on his patio, having moved his café table and chairs outdoors. It was midmorning, the sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, and he was on vacation. Life didn’t get much better than this, especially when he thought about the chilly autumn and frigid winter that awaited him when he returned to Chicago.

  He had made some plans for his first full day in Costa Rica, starting with dropping by his next-door neighbor’s room.

  He hadn’t been able to put Madison out of his mind since he’d left her yesterday afternoon. Especially not once he’d realized the Scarlet Bungalow—his suite—was the very next one down the path from hers. Their private courtyards butted up against one another and he’d heard her humming again as she’d floated the previous afternoon. He’d stayed quiet, not wanting to disturb her, somehow knowing they could use a bit of a time before they saw each other again.

  She needed some sleep, some food and some energy. He needed to think about what he was going to do about the incredible attraction he felt for the woman.

  Today he’d knock on her door and see where things went.

  He’d just finished off the last bite of his toast and reached for his coffee cup, sweetened with raw sugar and thick cream, when the morning silence was pierced by a dramatic, shrill scream.

  He flinched, nearly dropping his cup, and was on his feet before he’d made up his mind to get out of his chair. His whole body went on instant alert, like it did whenever the alarm sounded at the station house, not knowing if he would be dousing a small oven fire or battling a monster blaze in an abandoned warehouse.

  The scream had been cut off sharply—as if the screamer had run out of breath
—and that made things even worse. Because he feared he knew where it had come from.

  His stomach churned.

  “Madison!” he said, knowing the woman’s cry of terror had come from the other side of the hedged wall surrounding his pool.

  Not giving it another thought, he ran over to the hedge, shoved his hands into the thick greenery and gripped the cool stone wall behind it. He clambered up, his bare feet and legs getting scratched, his arms covered with sticky green moisture, his face slapped with flowers. He lost his footing once, skidded down a few inches, then gripped the top even more tightly in his hand so he wouldn’t go tumbling back down.

  As he reached the top of the six-foot-tall wall, he heard splashes and another shriek. Was she being attacked? Drowning?

  His heart raced. “I’m coming!” he called as he launched over the top of the wall, flinging himself into her private courtyard. He landed on his feet in the mulch, right beside her privacy hedge, and immediately looked for her. Having heard the splashes, his eyes turned right to the pool.

  Madison was in it, her face twisted with fear, her mouth open as she exhaled shallow gasps. She didn’t even appear to see him. All her attention was focused on the water before her. She was struggling to back up to the rear edge of the pool, reaching behind her, waving her arms, as if afraid to turn and look for it. Afraid to tear her attention off whatever had grabbed it.

  “Madison, what is it?”

  Her lips trembled. She cast the tiniest glance in his direction. But she didn’t have to answer. He suddenly saw for himself.

  “Stay still, don’t move,” he snapped, seeing the creature swimming in the shallow end of the pool.

  A snake. Not huge, but big enough—thick, though not terribly long. Boa constrictor, if he had to guess, though he was no expert.

  Jesus, no wonder she was screaming like somebody had come at her with an ax. He might have, too. He liked snakes about as much as Indiana Jones did.

  But he needed to keep her calm. If she started flailing around, the thing might notice her and come closer to investigate. And while he would never let it get near her, his Tarzan-snake-wrestling skills were a wee bit rusty. Or nonexistent.