The Bride Tamer Page 5

  Momentarily blinded, she shielded her eyes with her hand while they adjusted to the glare. Quickly she lowered the window shade. She moved languidly, at ease with her seven reflections even though she was naked—until she removed her hand from the light switch and fumbled on the counter for her bikini. Her brain didn’t register what her eyes saw for a second or two.

  Her bikini wasn’t there.

  She squinted, focusing on a scarred leather bag with the initials C.M. carved in the middle. It was a man’s expensive suitcase, and it had no business lying closed on that luggage rack with an expensive pair of black silk slacks dripping out of it.

  On the white tile counter, a man’s electric razor was plugged into a wall socket. Her eyes darted to the bottle of aftershave and the squashed tube of toothpaste right beside it. Last of all she saw the bra of her red bikini stuffed in a far corner behind Isabela’s bronze flamingos.

  She was reaching for her bikini when a deep, throaty voice that was rough with sleep came from the direction of the sofa bed near the pool table.

  “Wow! Who the hell are you—Sleeping Beauty?” The man’s heavy breathing seemed to grow more ragged on every word he uttered.

  Don’t, please, don’t you dare be Cash McRay!

  Of course he was Cash.

  She knew who he was even though her desperate mind fought to deny it. His sexy passionate voice turned her to mush.

  Concho yawned sleepily. Paws crossed under his wet nose, the canine ingrate was curled up at the end of Cash’s sofa bed as if he belonged there.

  Her nipples went as hard as rubies. All she had to do was take a flying leap into that bed to make her dream come true.

  Isabela… This isn’t happening.

  Suddenly Vivian was trembling and digging her nails into her palms. Next, she was jabbing frantically at the light switch.

  “So, you’re the girl who goes with the itty-bitty, red bikini? You’re taller than I pictured you. Bigger at the top, too.”

  When she missed the switch on the first try, she cried out in sheer frustration.

  He laughed. “I was having a nightmare when you barged into my dreams.”

  “You too?” Her glance shot toward him and her skinny dog.

  Half covered in the sheet, Cash looked long and sleek and brown, and very masculine. His shoulders were wide, his chest matted with dark hair.

  Her mouth went dry, but she got wet in other places. Suddenly, it was all she could do to remember to breathe, much less act like any normal, modest, sensible young woman, who found herself naked in a complete stranger’s bedroom in the middle of the night.

  As she stood there, seconds ticked by—as if she were paralyzed or hypnotized.

  “This weird barber had me tied to his chair” came that deep beautiful voice from the bed.

  “What are you talking about?” she whispered.

  “I dreamed about a crazy barber.”

  “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “I told him not to cut much of my hair off, but he had an electric razor, and he’d already taken a swipe at my scalp. ‘Oops,’ he said. I wanted to kill him, but it was a dream, so I just lay there.”

  Like I’m just standing here—as if this is a dream and I’ll wake up and everything will be back to normal.

  “Then he put a bowl on my head and began to shave the hair off around my ears and neckline.”

  Turn off the light, dummy.

  Vivian clamped down on her tongue with her teeth. The coppery flavor of blood and the shooting pain brought her to her senses. Quick as a flash, she hit the switch, and the room went mercifully black.

  “Forget you ever saw me,” she mumbled, her hot body sagging against the cool tiled wall because her legs had turned to jelly.

  “You must be the sister-in-law,” he murmured dryly. “The one who didn’t want to meet me.”

  “No! I’m not her! And I don’t know her. And you don’t either,” she replied, panicked.

  English. He was speaking English. Real American English. She loved to hear Americans talking in the street because the sound of her native tongue with its flat vowels reminded her of home. Just the sound of his voice made her long for a normal life with a purpose and a future.

  Just the sound of it made her body heat and throb and her heart long for her wanton dream to come true.

  “What do you think my dream meant?” he asked conversationally.

  She could hear every raspy breath she took. “I—I don’t care! It was a ridiculous dream!”

  “Not to me. I’m most particular about letting some freak mess with my hair. It means something. Trust me.”

  “Look! I just had a nightmare myself—and it meant nothing!” She spoke in a frantic whisper as she moved away from the wall and began to fumble in the dark for her bathrobe, cursing when her fingers were shaking too violently to pull it on. “Damn!”

  “Tell me your dream, and I’ll tell you what it meant,” he offered.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Trust me, I’m good at this,” he said.

  She almost moaned.

  Bed sheets rustled. Not good. “You stay right where you are!” she screeched, backing toward the shower, stumbling over two objects that felt like a pair of large shoes.

  “I liked the light on,” he said. “The view was better.”

  “Well, I don’t. And I don’t want to know who you are. Or hear about your hair. I want to forget I ever met you—”

  Liar. She wanted to lick his long, lean body, to taste him. No. That was a dream.

  “The name’s Cash. Cash McRay. And I damn sure want to know the name of the naked lady who saved me from a fiend with hair clippers. I was drenched in sweat from terror—and then there you were, like Venus arising from the sea to rescue me. Exquisite Aphrodite.”

  She groaned aloud. She’d dreamed about getting naked on top of him. Now her future brother-in-law had seen her in her birthday suit and was waxing poetic. Her heart was racing.

  “We are not part of some myth!” she snapped.

  “You gonna tell me about your dream?”

  Why didn’t men ever, just once, do what they were supposed to do? “Why aren’t you in the guest suite where you belong? Or better yet, in Isabela’s bed?”

  “Maybe you’re my destiny.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You did appear to save me from that mad barber.”

  His laughter brought fresh panic. She put her arm through the wrong hole of her bathrobe. Next she got all tangled up in the sash. She stumbled on the folds of the robe.

  Then somehow, miraculously, she quit tripping over the garment, stabbed her arms through the proper holes and wrapped the robe around herself as if it were a shroud. Breathlessly, her chest heaving, tender pointed nipples mashing against terry cloth so hard they hurt, she tied the sash in a tight knot.

  “Broken pipe in the bathroom. No water. Besides, I kind of like it out here,” he said.

  She almost hated him more because his answer was so reasonable.

  “Did you see me—”

  He laughed again. “Everything. Seven extra you’s are imprinted on my male brain forever—Aphrodite.”

  “Just be quiet and go back to sleep and dream about that barber.”

  “Do you want to go back to sleep and dream your dream—”

  Dear God.

  “See this,” he continued, “you’re way more fun. Not that I’m going to let you near hair clippers in your present mood. My whole body’s buzzing—terror from the barber and then sensory overload from you. I needed to get up early and read architectural journals. But, hey, if you’re going skinny-dipping, I’ll join you—Aphrodite.”

  “No—”

  “Isabela said she’d introduce us at breakfast.”

  “I have an errand downtown.”

  “Join us for lunch, then? By the pool maybe?”

  “No! I’ll be gone all day. Teaching.”

  “Aaron White by chance? He called
you last night. Said it was urgent. Said he couldn’t wait to finish his lesson. What exactly are you teaching him?”

  “I’m not in the mood for this conversation. Surely you can understand—”

  “Look, I’m sorry I teased you a while ago. I mean, it’s not every day a naked goddess wakes me up. Let’s be reasonable—”

  “No! You look. I’m the last thing from reasonable!”

  “That’s exactly what Isabela said.”

  “She told you about me?”

  “She adores you. And your son. Miguelito, I believe?”

  “Then I’ll never be able to face you.”

  “Why not? You’re beautiful. Surely you know you have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m an architect. I appreciate beauty. I just got back from Florence. I looked at lots of naked ladies in paintings. Naked statues, too.”

  “I’m not some statue or painting. No man has seen me like this…. Not since my divorce,” she whispered. “Oh God. Forget I said that. My sex life is none of your business.”

  “Hey, don’t be embarrassed.” His voice was beguilingly gentle now. “Okay, why don’t we just pretend this never happened.”

  “Because you’re a man, and men always take advantage—”

  “You’ve been in Mexico way too long.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  He laughed. “I know how to fix this.”

  Before she could say anything, he jumped out of bed and tugged at the chain on the lamp, flooding the room with light. Faster than she could blink, he ripped off the sheet wrapped around his lean waist and exposed himself to her.

  “Oh my God! Oh—”

  He was huge—everywhere.

  She tried to stare at the sheet on the floor, but the temptation of a fully aroused naked man, after so long…

  Inch by inch, her eyes climbed his long, powerful, tanned legs. His hips were lean, his belly washboard flat. Other parts met with her approval, too. And, of course, she stared at the one thing she shouldn’t have looked at.

  He smiled with immense male satisfaction when she finally met his gaze. “There! You’ve viewed the family jewels! We’re even!”

  Even as she gaped, she blushed furiously. “You’re crazy. And you make me crazy. Do you know that?”

  “Is that why your eyes are bugging and your lower jaw’s hanging open?” He laughed. “Has it been that long since you saw a naked man? Or are you that impressed?”

  Her breathing was choppy. She shut her eyes for a second and clamped her mouth shut. “You’re unbearably…conceited…sex-crazed.”

  “Do go on.” His voice was no more than a throaty whisper.

  He tensed, stretching his lean, dark frame like a giant cat. She watched his muscles flex and contract with unwanted fascination—and a pure unadulterated female admiration that made her body feel molten. Yes! He was overwhelmingly masculine.

  Dios. Women weren’t supposed to care about size, but she wasn’t displeased at the way he looked. Big men, big hands, big… Big. Period. Okay, so she wasn’t politically correct, big turned her on.

  Somehow he took up way more space than he physically occupied. Then he grinned, and she really felt bowled over.

  She fought not to stare down there again—fought and failed. His aura of virility filled the room, hotly flooding her senses and making every nerve ending buzz.

  Somewhere she’d heard you had to get crazy people and criminals talking.

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe… You’re naked.” Her voice was squeaky. She sounded like a mouse.

  “Big deal.” His voice hadn’t changed a bit. “I said we’re even a while ago. Relax.”

  “Relax?” Someone else had used that word recently.

  Her shaking hand went to her throat where she could feel her rapid pulse. “Right, relax,” she said in her mouse’s voice. “Relax—with you naked.”

  His hard face softened as he took a step toward her.

  She jumped a foot and then scooted backward fast, bruising her big toe when she slipped and stumbled over a pair of shoes.

  “Don’t you dare take another step toward me. Don’t you dare try to touch—”

  His white grin widened. “I think you want me to touch you. And I will…if you invite me to.”

  “No. No!”

  Then he pointed to the floor at a puddle of blue denim. “Can I get dressed now?”

  Somehow she made her head bob her assent despite acute disappointment.

  He leaned down and scooped up a pair of jeans. Then he stepped into them, slowly, one long, lanky leg at a time. She watched, mesmerized.

  He zipped his jeans, slowly, oh, so slowly, careful not to catch anything important. “There. Feel all better now? I saw you. You saw me. Now we can move on.”

  Maybe he could move on, but she was stuck. She kept seeing his big brown body. She couldn’t get him or that image out of her mind.

  Her skin felt as hot as fire. Her heart was still tripping over itself. “Th-this didn’t happen.”

  His green eyes drilled her. “Yeah, it did. And for me, it was a life-changing moment.”

  “I was never here.”

  “We got naked together, Vivian. And it was fun. The most fun I’ve had—”

  He stopped, and she saw the pain in his eyes. He’d lost his wife and his little girl. She didn’t want to remember anything that made him seem more human and real.

  “I didn’t have fun,” she insisted.

  He grinned, a lopsided, charming grin. His black eyebrows quirked above his beautiful eyes. And his pain that made her feel so vulnerable vanished.

  “Right.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t you dare tell Isabela about this. I love her. She’s like a sister. I can’t be here with you…like this.”

  “What do you take me for?”

  “Women down here are insanely jealous,” she said as she moved toward the door.

  “Can I hope she has something to be jealous about?” he whispered, his eyes going so deep and dark, she shivered.

  “What?”

  “I told you—for me this was a life-changing moment.”

  When he didn’t look away, she was aware of something hot and dangerous filling the air. He wanted her. He didn’t want to let this go any more than she did.

  But she loved Isabela.

  “No,” she whispered. “You have to get over it. We have to forget it. For her sake.”

  “What a shame,” he said at last, but he continued to study her. “Okay. Then it was a dream, and we both woke up. Okay. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Vivian dashed for the door. “No way, not in a million years, can I meet your eyes over breakfast—not with Isabela watching! I’ll feel like I betrayed her.”

  “You didn’t. We didn’t do anything.”

  Yet. “Look, I’ve gotta go!”

  “Sweet dreams,” he whispered. “Which reminds me—you never did tell me your dream.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” She flung the door wide.

  “I got naked for you.”

  “And that was such a huge sacrifice for you, I’m sure.” She licked her lips. “You were showing off.”

  He beamed. “Must’ve been some dream,” he said, “to get you down here in the middle of the night anxious for a chilly swim. Knowing you, it had to be about sex.”

  “You don’t know me!”

  “Did you dream about sex or not?”

  Heat washed her neck and face.

  When he laughed, she ran before he could ask any more questions.

  “Don’t let anybody see you in that bathrobe. It’s inside out,” he yelled.

  Five

  Cash slammed the pool house door behind him and squinted in the brilliant sunshine. He felt disoriented and not himself.

  He’d just gotten off the phone with Isabela. He didn’t want to think about why he’d deliberately put the engagement ring back in his suitcase and left it in the pool house, when only yesterday he’d been so sure about the new direct
ion he wanted his life to take.

  And after Aphrodite, Cash was in no mood to share another meal on the patio with the vivacious, super-sexy Isabela, but she had already called him twice.

  “Your huevos motuleros are nearly ready,” she’d murmured.

  “You remembered.” He’d developed an enthusiasm for Marco’s favorite breakfast when they’d brought Marco home from the hospital the last time they’d all been together.

  “I remember everything we did in the city and everything we said.” When she paused, he heard her breathing. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Likewise?” She’d sounded confused.

  “It’s an American expression.”

  “Not a very romantic one—”

  He’d hung up on her too abruptly. He was blowing it.

  Damn you, Aphrodite! You’re the wild card thrown down onto green felt after I’ve already played a good hand very badly.

  Isabela was perfect for him. He rubbed his temples and squinted again. The bright light, the drone of the bees buzzing in the purple bougainvillea that dripped from the roof, the red and blue walls, the vivid green lawn—all set a million little hammers pounding painfully in his brain.

  Every time Isabela had come on to him last night, he’d swigged down more alcohol, until he’d barely been able to stagger to bed. He now had the hangover from hell.

  He was smoothing his white collar down and sliding his Ray-Bans on when the dark, skinny kid he’d seen playing soccer outside with a maid and a gardener earlier grinned from ear to ear and shouted to him.

  “Hola! Señor—” The kid grinned again.

  The smile softened something inside Cash, and he went instantly on full alert. Usually he avoided kids, especially extraordinarily appealing ones like this one, because they made him think about Sophie.

  “Hola,” he said, striding even faster as he headed for the patio at the far edge of the spacious lawn. Spot trotted along after him.

  The kid switched to English. “Have you seen my mommy?”

  The question stopped Cash cold. The vision of those sweet, young curves he’d longed to touch and taste and smell played like a rerun in his mind. Aphrodite’s body and those tangles of liquid copper curls flowing over her shoulders would doubtlessly be imprinted forever in some deep, primal part of his male brain. Again he saw her ruby-red nipples, her swollen breasts, her flushed cheeks, her long-lashed, blue eyes. Most of all he remembered the longing in her eyes.