Lying in Your Arms Read online

  Not, of course, that she would ever cheat on someone to whom she’d committed herself. Except, of course, according to every damned tabloid in the United States.

  “Well, all I can say is, she’s an idiot.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks.”

  “And you’re better off.”

  “Oh, no doubt about that. But I can’t help wishing I’d figured it out sooner. Ah, well, lesson learned. If nothing else, it reaffirmed how incredibly lucky I am to be surrounded by people who really do love each other.”

  “Who?”

  “My family.” His laughter deepened. “My big, huge, obnoxious, pushy, bossy, demanding family.”

  “You have a lot of siblings?”

  “Two brothers, one older, one younger. But also a ton of cousins, aunts, uncles, second cousins, grandparents. My family might inspire a sequel to My Big Fat Greek Wedding, only with Italians.”

  Good grief, there were more Leos in the world? It boggled the mind.

  “And they’re all happily married?”

  “There’s been one divorce in the Santori clan in the past ten years, and that was a great-aunt and uncle who got tired of waiting for each other to die.”

  She snorted.

  “Otherwise, everybody’s faithful, everybody’s happy. They’re pretty damned amazing and incredibly lucky.” He shrugged. “It’s set a standard for me. I almost took a step that wasn’t living up to that standard, and I got slapped down for it. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  No, she didn’t imagine he would. He would never sell himself short again, that was for sure. Even she knew he’d never commit to a woman he wasn’t completely sure about.

  Her heart almost wept over that. To be the woman a man this steady, this sure, this wonderful really loved would be such a gift. What a miracle.

  And, for her, what an impossibility.

  Because all Madison could bring to Leo was embarrassment and scandal, and it sounded like he’d had enough of those to last his whole life. She might as well be walking around with a big scarlet A sewn to the front of her bathing suit. His association with her could only drag him through the mud.

  He didn’t deserve that. And she didn’t deserve him.

  She knew that. But that didn’t change one damn thing.

  She still wanted him desperately. They didn’t have much time, only six more days, but the more time she spent here, the more confident she was of the privacy and security of this place. Maybe it was risky, maybe she was being selfish, but she couldn’t deny that the thought of spending six solid days on the grounds of this resort, having a wild, passionate affair with the man sitting next to her, excited her beyond reason.

  Should she, though? She’d made so many bad calls lately, had misjudged one situation after another, the most recent being just how interested the world might be in her love life. Could she really entice Leo Santori into a wild, passionate, short-term affair that they could both walk away from, unscathed, next week?

  She honestly didn’t know. Nor did she know whether she should.

  She just knew she wanted to.

  * * *

  HAVING BEEN TOLD by the staff to come to the lobby at around six, dressed comfortably, Leo knocked on her door at five minutes before the hour.

  “Right on time,” she said as she answered.

  “Promptness is my specialty.”

  “I thought snake wrangling was your specialty.”

  “That’s another one,” he said with a laugh as she came outside, pulling the door to her bungalow shut behind her.

  She stepped out onto the path, into the sunlight, and he took a sharp breath, looking her over, from head to toe.

  Madison was wearing a silky, wispy sundress, all color and light. It was strapless, clinging to her full breasts, tight down to her hips, then flaring out, falling to her knees. The bright, tropical colors made her newly tanned skin glow. Her brilliant green eyes were made even more dramatic with heavier makeup than she usually wore, and she’d swept her hair up onto her head in a loose bun, leaving several long curling strands to fall over her bare shoulders.

  She wore simple sandals with a small, delicate ankle bracelet. Something about it, that tiny strip of gold, made his heart race. He wanted to take it off, wanted to kiss her ankle and lick her instep and taste his way all the way up the inside of those beautiful thighs.

  “Do you think I look okay?” she asked, noticing his silence.

  “No. Not just okay. I think you’re beautiful,” he said.

  She smiled, pleased at the compliment, then looked him over. “I think you are too.”

  He hadn’t been lying about the limits of his wardrobe, but he had remembered to pack a pair of khakis and one dress shirt. It wasn’t exactly Chicago dress casual, considering he had brown leather thongs on his feet, but he figured it would do for whatever the hotel staff had cooked up.

  They needed to go—it was at least a five-minute walk to the lobby. But something made him stop. This wasn’t a date; they were simply getting comped a meal for what had happened this morning. But he couldn’t go another minute without doing what he’d wanted to do ever since she’d left his arms earlier today.

  Without saying a word, he slid his hands into her hair, knowing he was probably going to knock down more of those sexy curls and not caring. He pulled her to him, saw her eyes flare the tiniest bit in surprise, then he covered her mouth with his.

  She didn’t hesitate but slid her arms up to encircle his neck, holding him close. Madison tilted her head, parting her lips, gently sliding her tongue out to welcome his. They tasted and explored, slowly, lazily, and he realized he hadn’t imagined how good things had been with them this morning. They had chemistry; it was instant, undeniable, almost heady. The more they kissed, the more they wanted to. She pressed her body against his, the pebbled tips of her breasts and the musky, female scent rising off her telling him she was every bit as ready to turn back around and go into her room, skipping dinner in favor of the most delicious physical dessert.

  But he wasn’t in a rush. No rush at all.

  Leo liked taking things slow. There would be no mad, crazy, gotta-get-in-you-right-now coupling. Not with this woman. Oh, maybe that would happen someday, but for their first time, he intended to savor every inch of her. For hours.

  Finally, knowing they were probably already late, he ended the kiss and drew away from her. He patted her hair back into place, fixed one dangling curl, and said, “I guess we should go.”

  “You still want to?”

  He saw the question in her eyes, knew she was ready to say to hell with dinner, let’s order room service. But like a kid who looked forward to the raw anticipation of Christmas Eve far more than the present-orgy of the next morning, he held firm.

  “Yeah, I do. Let’s go see what they’ve got cooked up for us.”

  She frowned a little. To make sure she understood this wasn’t in any way a rejection, he brushed his lips across her mouth one more time. “I can’t wait to take that dress off you.”

  Her eyes flew open and she gasped. “Do you think you can just...”

  “Yeah, I can. You want me, Madison. It’s dripping off you.”

  She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. How could she possibly deny something so utterly obvious to them both?

  “And that’s good,” he added. “Because I want you, too. All I can think about when I see the way your nipples are pressing against those red flowers on the fabric is that they’ll taste like ripe berries against my tongue.”

  He couldn’t resist reaching up and flicking his fingers against those taut tips, feeling her sway in reaction as he plucked and teased. He wanted to cup and stroke and suck her but there was no time. Not nearly enough time.

  “Leo!”

  “Yeah. You’re going to taste better than anything they put in front of us for dinner.”

  She gulped, closed her eyes, obviously trying to steady her breaths. He noticed the way she clenched a lightweight shawl
in her hands and wondered if she was picturing his neck in her grip. She appeared ready to strangle him for teasing her now, when there was no way he could follow through.

  Hell, the woman obviously didn’t appreciate the fine art of anticipation.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” he told her. “I’ll make it so worth the wait, Madison.”

  She opened her eyes, looking up at him, her frown softening, her lips curving into a trusting smile. Then, just to show he wasn’t the only one who could play the game, she whispered, “If you think my nipples will taste sweet, just wait until you taste the rest of me.”

  It was his turn to pause for a deep breath.

  “I haven’t been with anyone in six months, Leo, and I’m dying to be explored, tasted, taken.”

  “Six months? Funny, same with me. Maybe six months is our lucky number.”

  It was as if they’d both taken a time-out from everyone else just so they could build toward this night, this joining.

  “Mmm-hmm. And if I don’t have you in me in the next few hours, I think I’ll just die.”

  “A few hours, huh?” He glanced at his watch. “That doesn’t leave much time for foreplay.”

  She hissed and grabbed at his arm, as if her legs had weakened.

  “But I suppose I can make do.”

  She swallowed visibly. “Please, let’s just skip dinner.”

  “Not a chance, beautiful.”

  Smiling, Leo took her arm and physically turned her toward the pathway, leading her to the lobby. She didn’t say anything, and her steps were the tiniest bit wobbly, as if she was still affected by the sultry promise in his words.

  Because he had been making a promise.

  Hours of foreplay? Not a problem. As long as he could lose himself inside of her at the end of it.

  The realization that they’d both turned the corner and admitted that this night would end up with them in bed was enough to slake his appetite for now. It would build, hour by hour, until they were back here. And by then, he looked forward to adoring every inch of her body the way it was meant to have been adored every day for the past six cold, lonely months.

  7

  AS IT TURNED OUT, the staff’s “surprise” dinner wasn’t in the upscale restaurant attached to the hotel. Nor was there a limo waiting to whisk them off to some fancy place up in Santa Cruz. Nor was there a bevy of staff carrying trays of room service for a poolside rendezvous.

  Instead, they were told when they arrived at the lobby a few minutes after six that they would be going on a beach picnic.

  They were instructed to head down to a small, secluded beach tucked into a private cove below the hotel, reserved only for guests. Leo had read about it in the brochures, and he and Madison had talked about heading down there tomorrow. Today they’d just soaked up some sun by the pool, talking, laughing, drinking. She’d filled him in a little on the Hollywood scene—ugh. He’d told her about life in the Windy City. More interesting were all the things they’d both been thinking about but hadn’t discussed. Things like how she tasted, how her body molded so perfectly against his, fitting him like she’d been made to be his other half.

  As they followed the directions, walking down the steps carved into the hillside below the resort, he realized the term beach picnic was far too simple and mundane for the reality. This was more like a picnic a sheikh might indulge in somewhere along the Mediterranean.

  “Wow, this is stunning,” she said as they reached the bottom of the planked steps.

  “No kidding.”

  The water was a little rough, white-capped waves lapping ashore, not as gentle and soft as a typical Caribbean resort. He liked this better; the Pacific seemed wild and powerful, as timeless as the earth. There was nothing placid about it. It was full of passion and energy.

  The shoreline was a broad swath of pale sand, not sugar fine, but still clean and beautiful where it met the blue-green edge of the water.

  Not only did they have the cove entirely to themselves—it was near sunset, and, he supposed, the few other guests were eating in the restaurant or were already out on the town. But they also would be dining in splendor. He could only wonder at all the trouble the staff had gone to, and couldn’t decide whether it was more a result of the snake or the matchmaking front desk clerk.

  A flowing canopy, white and lacy, stood in a sheltered area of the beach, nestled near the curving hillside. Fabric twined around each of the four legs, and it billowed in the evening breeze. Beneath it were a small café table and two chairs.

  A chef stood at a tabletop grill, beside which were platters stacked with skewered meat, marinating fish and fresh vegetables. The man smiled as they reached the canopy tent and immediately began to grill the food as the uniformed waiter led them to their seats.

  A pristine white cloth covered the table. The center was taken up with a beautiful vase full of colorful, tropical blooms, and a bottle of champagne was laid on ice, two glasses at the ready.

  “Good lord, this is like the deluxe wedding night meal in the brochure,” Madison whispered as the waiter pulled out her chair and she sat down.

  He took his own seat and nodded. This was feeling more and more like a setup, and he decided he needed to leave a large tip for the desk clerk when he checked out.

  When he saw the bed-size double lounger, draped with soft, white fabric, he decided to make it an extra-large one.

  “Glad we came?” he asked.

  She cast a quick look at the lounger. “I think I’m going to be.”

  “I have no doubt you’re going to be.”

  She shivered a little, though the evening was still warm, and a lovely pink color appeared on her tanned throat, as if her body was growing flushed. He looked forward to exploring that soft swath of pink skin later.

  Before she could say anything else, they were startled by the strumming of a guitar. They hadn’t even noticed the musician sitting a few yards away. He smiled and nodded as he began to play softly, the notes riding on the air, mingling with the call of seabirds and the never-ending churning of the ocean.

  “Champagne?” the waiter asked.

  They nodded, and he popped the bottle of an expensive vintage, then poured them each a glass.

  “I suppose we should offer a toast to something,” Madison said once the waiter had discreetly returned to the chef’s table, leaving them in privacy.

  “I don’t imagine we should drink to the sn...”

  She threw a hand up, palm out. “Don’t say that word! No more mentioning him tonight.”

  “All right. How about we drink to...new friendships?”

  “As in, vacation buddies?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not the term I’d use.”

  Their stares met, and the table suddenly seemed even smaller, more intimate. Because Madison’s green eyes were glowing with something that went far beyond friendship. This was so much more than that. Whatever was happening between them, however long it might last and wherever it might go, it was about a lot more than either of them were probably ready to admit. Every minute they’d spent together had suggested that. The kiss they’d shared outside her room had reinforced it. Their conversation had cemented it.

  “Let’s drink to new beginnings,” he finally said.

  That felt right, at least for him. For the past six months, he’d been living in limbo. It was almost as if a part of him had been waiting for the original wedding date to pass so the reality that it would never happen would finalize itself in his mind. Now that it had happened, now that the day had come and gone, he felt no sadness, no wistfulness. There was only freedom. Relief. And, now that he’d met Madison, pure anticipation.

  “I like that,” she said, as if she, too, had something she wanted to move beyond.

  Although they’d talked for hours today, while they’d enjoyed the pool—swimming, sunbathing, eating a light lunch—she hadn’t opened up much about her past. But he sensed she had come here to escape from her troubles, much as he had
. As well as seeking something new and different.

  Well, they’d found it. Because they’d found each other.

  Maybe just for the next few days. It was too soon to tell. But starting tonight, he and Madison Reid were going to become lovers. Of that he had absolutely no doubt.

  It had nothing to do with the conversation they’d had before leaving her room, or with the romantic setup...although the bed definitely didn’t hurt. Rather, it had everything to do with the tension and awareness that had been building between them from the moment they’d met. Hell, even if he’d been fully dressed when she’d walked into his room yesterday, and she hadn’t fainted in his arms and there had been no naked embrace this morning, this thing between them would still be happening.

  It was overwhelming his senses, answering all the questions he’d been asking himself for the past several months. And it was making him more certain than he’d been about anything that he’d finally met the kind of woman he’d been waiting for. One who he couldn’t stop thinking about, who filled his thoughts and fueled his every desire, until his hand nearly shook with the need to reach out and touch her. Take her.

  “Leo?” she asked, her voice soft.

  He shook his head, realizing she was watching him expectantly, her glass in her raised hand. He lifted his, too.

  “New beginnings,” she said.

  He echoed her words. They clinked glasses, and both drank.

  The champagne went down smoothly, and the conversation was just as smooth. They had fallen into an easy rhythm with one another sometime after they’d met, and as they waited for their meal to be prepared, answering the chef’s questions about their preferences, they talked about a lot of nothing. But good nothing. Fine nothing.

  Over fresh fruit, they compared family stories. He marveled that she was an identical twin—that there was another woman as beautiful and perfect as this one somewhere in the world.

  She teased him about being the middle of three boys, correctly assessing that he’d been the easygoing one who was always smiling. Unlike his older brother, who was an Army Ranger, or his younger one who was a cop, Leo had always been the comedian of the family, the peacemaker.