Home > Her Return to King's Bed (Kings of California #13)(14)

Her Return to King's Bed (Kings of California #13)(14)
Author: Maureen Child

Just like that, it was as if ice water had been poured in his lap.

“And that makes it all right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You used me for your family’s sake and then left when the job was finished.”

Her eyes went soft and then hard again in a blink. As if she’d deliberately shut out whatever it was that had caused that momentary weakness. “I’ve told you. I didn’t know they were going to take the dagger until the job was done.”

“Very convenient.”

“Nothing convenient about it,” she muttered, then lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. “If you think it was easy for me to leave you, you’re crazy.”

“Easy or not, you did it,” he said and as memory and anger roared into life inside him, his accent became more pronounced. He heard it in his whispered words, but couldn’t seem to tame it. “I have never been used before or since. That makes you special, Teresa. And I won’t rest until you’ve returned my property and paid for what you did.”

“I have paid,” she told him and her voice sounded unbelievably weary. “For five years, I’ve paid for what I did, Rico. But it doesn’t matter what I say, does it? You won’t believe me.”

“No,” he agreed. “I won’t. That’s the downside of being a liar. Even when you claim to be telling the truth, no one will listen.”

How the hell could he? She’d ripped him in two when she disappeared. Never before or since had he allowed a woman to slip into his life as Teresa Coretti had. She’d crept past his defensive shields and burrowed her way into his heart. His soul. In the short time they were together, she’d given him more than he had ever hoped to find.

Then she’d been gone.

And the cold that had filled him once he’d learned that she and her family had used him had never really ebbed. Being beside her now, he felt sexual heat, but even that wasn’t enough to burn off the stinging chill of the memory of her betrayal.

All around them, couples leaned across tables, laughing and talking in soft murmurs that added to the romance of the room. But here at his table, there was a distance between him and Teresa that might as well have been a brick wall.

“Then why are we here?” she asked after several long moments of silence. “If you don’t want to talk to me or hear my side of things, why didn’t you just lock me in your bedroom?”

Good question. But the answer wasn’t one he was ready to give her. How could he admit to her that having her standing there in his room had pushed every one of his buttons? She’d been too close, the situation too intimate. He’d needed time. Time to think about exactly how he wanted this to go. Time to get his own raging need under control. Because he wouldn’t be led around by his sexual desire. This time, where Teresa was concerned, he wouldn’t allow his brain to be clouded by desire.

“Have to eat.” His tone was dismissive and the sentence short and sharp. He wanted her to know that it didn’t matter to him that she was sitting beside him smelling like hot summer nights.

“Fine. We’ll eat.” She took another long drink of her champagne, then sighed heavily. “Then maybe you can tell me exactly what you expect of me for the next month.”

His body stirred. Oh, he expected plenty. “I think you already know.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I suppose I do. Not getting enough action from the models and actresses you squire around?”

One eyebrow arched. “Been keeping track of me? Flattering.”

“Not really,” she said with a sniff. “It’s hard not to know what you’re up to when you’re splashed across magazines and newspapers—complete with pictures of you and the bimbo of the week.”

“My life is none of your business.” He scowled at her and left it at that. He didn’t care for the disapproval in her voice. She was the one who had walked out. Who was she to pass judgment on anything he did? Let her think what she would. Her opinion of him meant less than nothing, didn’t it?

“You’re right. It’s not my business. But answer one question for me. Why didn’t you just let me go five years ago? Why stop the divorce and go to the trouble of sending me a forged decree?”

His fingers clenched around the delicate crystal stem and Rico had to force his grip to relax before the glass simply shattered in his hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and even, despite the anger churning within.

“You ran. From me.” His gaze caught hers and he noticed the flicker of…was it shame shining in her light brown eyes? If so, he was glad to see it. “I’m a King, Teresa. We don’t lose. Ever.”

She pulled in a long, shuddering breath. “So this is a game? A competition? I can leave but only when you say so?”

“If this is a game, it is one you devised,” he reminded her. “But it is one I will win.”

“You’re wrong,” Teresa said softly, with a slow shake of her head. “No one’s going to win.”

His heart fisted in his chest and that tight knot of pain told him she was probably right. By the time they were through, there would be no winners.

Only survivors.

“Are we interrupting?”

He knew that voice. Scowling, Rico turned to the man standing beside his table. He slanted a hard look at his cousin Sean, then smiled at the lovely, very pregnant woman by his side.

“Would it matter if I said yes?” Rico asked his cousin.

“No,” Sean said.

“Yes.” Melinda spoke up at the same time. She gave her husband’s arm a light swat, then shrugged and looked at Teresa. “We are interrupting, but honestly, I just had to get out of the house.”

Sean wore slacks and a long-sleeved white shirt. Melinda’s long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail gathered at the base of her neck. Her blue eyes looked tired and she was dressed in a long skirt and a clingy top that emphasized her pregnancy.

“You mentioned you were going to dinner,” Sean put in, already helping Melinda slide across the leather seat. “And we thought that sounded like a great idea.”

He settled at the end of the booth, directly opposite Rico, and gave him a grin. Rico blew out a sigh, but short of tossing his cousin out, there was no way to get rid of him. Besides, Melinda was much too nice to be treated badly because of her idiot husband.

“Hey, champagne!” Sean spotted the bottle nestled in a silver ice bucket and signaled to a waiter for another glass. Remembering his wife, he also ordered a bottle of sparkling water.

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