Best of Desire

Six

“Married?” Shannon choked on the word, her eyes so wide with shock Tony was almost insulted. “No! No, definitely not.”

Her instant and emphatic denial left zero room for doubt. She wasn’t expecting a proposal. Good thing, since that hadn’t crossed his mind. Until now.

Was he willing to go that far to protect her?

She turned away fast, her hands raised as she raced back into the sitting area. “Tony—Antonio—I can’t talk to you, look at you, risk kissing you again. I need to go to bed. To sleep. Alone.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“To end this craziness. To stop thinking about you all the time.”

All the time?

He homed in on her words, an obvious slip on her part because while she’d been receptive and enthusiastic in bed, she’d given him precious little encouragement once they had their clothes back on again. Their fight over his simple offer of money still stung. Why did she have to reject his attempt to help?

She paced, restlessly lining up her shoes beside the sofa, scooping Kolby’s tiny train from a table, lingering to rearrange the blue flowers. “You’ve said you feel the same. Who the hell wants to be consumed by this kind of ache all the time? It’s damned inconvenient, especially when it can’t lead anywhere. It’s not like you were looking for marriage.”

“That wasn’t my intention when we started seeing each other.” Yet somehow the thought had popped into his head out there on the patio. Sure, it had shocked the crap out of him at first. Still left him reeling. Although not so much that he was willing to reject the idea outright. “But since you’ve brought it up—”

Her hands shot up in front of her, between them. “Uh-uh, no sirree. You were the one to mention the M word.”

“Fine, then. The marriage issue is out there, on the table for discussion. Let’s talk it through.”

She stopped cold. “This isn’t some kind of business merger. We’re talking about our lives here, and not just ours. I don’t have the luxury of making another mistake. I already screwed up once before, big time. My son’s well-being depends on my decisions.”

“And I’m a bad choice because?”

“Do not play with my feelings. Damn it, Tony.” She jabbed him in the chest with one finger. “You know I’m attracted to you. If you keep this up, I’ll probably cave and we’ll have sex. We probably would have on the plane if the steward and my son hadn’t been around. But I would have been sorry the minute the orgasm chilled and is that really how you want it to be between us? To have me waking up regretting it every time?”

With images of the two of them joining the mile-high club fast-tracking from his brain to his groin, he seriously considered saying to hell with regrets. Let this insanity between them play out, wherever it took them.

Her bed was only a few steps away, offering a clear and tempting place to sink inside her. He would sweep away her clothes and the covers— His gaze hooked on the afghan draped along the end corner of the mattress.

Damn. Who had put that there? Could his father be deliberately jabbing him with reminders of their life as a family in hopes of drawing him back into the fold? Of course Enrique would, manipulative old cuss that he was.

That familiar silver blanket sucker punched him back to reality. He would recognize the one-of-a-kind afghan anywhere. His mother had knitted it for him just before she’d been killed, and he’d kept it with him like a shield during the whole hellish escape from San Rinaldo. Good God, he shouldn’t have had to ask her why he was a bad choice. He knew the reason well.

Tony stumbled back, away from the memories and away from this woman who saw too much with her perceptive gray-blue eyes.

“You’re right, Shannon. We’re both too exhausted to make any more decisions today. Sleep well.” His voice as raw as his memory-riddled gut, he left.

* * *

Dazed, Shannon stood in the middle of the sitting room wondering what the hell had just happened.

One second she’d been ready to climb back into Tony’s arms and bed, the next they’d been talking about marriage. And didn’t that still stun her numb with thoughts of how horribly things had ended with Nolan?

But only seconds after bringing up the marriage issue, Tony had emotionally checked out on her again. At least he’d prevented them from making a mistake. It was a mistake, right?

Eyeing her big—empty—four-poster bed, she suddenly wasn’t one bit sleepy. Tony overwhelmed her as much as the wealth. She walked into her bedroom, studying the Picasso over her headboard, this one from the artist’s rose period, a harlequin clown in oranges and pinks. She’d counted three works already by this artist alone, including some leggy elephant painting in Kolby’s room.

She’d hidden the crayons and markers.

Laughing at the absurdity of it all, she fingered a folded cashmere afghan draped over the corner of the mattress. So whispery soft and strangely worn in the middle of this immaculately opulent decor. The pewter-colored yarn complemented the apricot and gray tones well enough, but she wondered where it had come from. She tugged it from the bed and shook it out.

The blanket rippled in front of her, a little larger than a lap quilt, not quite long enough for a single bed. Turning in a circle she wrapped the filmy cover around her and padded back out to the balcony. She hugged the cashmere wrap tighter and curled up in a padded lounger, letting the ocean wind soothe her face still warm from Tony’s touch.

Was it her imagination or could she smell hints of him even on the blanket? Or was he that firmly in her senses as well as her thoughts? What was it about Tony that reached to her in ways Nolan never had? She’d responded to her husband’s touch, found completion, content with her life right up to the point of betrayal.

But Tony… Shannon hugged the blanket tighter. She hadn’t been hinting at marriage, damn it. Just the thought of giving over her life so completely again scared her to her toes.

So where did that leave her? Seriously considering becoming exactly what the media labeled her—a monarch’s mistress.

* * *

Tony heard…the silence.

Finally, Shannon had settled for the night. Thank God. Much longer and his willpower would have given out. He would have gone back into her room and picked up where they’d left off before he’d caught sight of the damn blanket.

This place screwed with his head, so much so he’d actually brought up marriage, for crying out loud. It was like there were rogue waves from his past curling up everywhere and knocking him off balance. The sooner he could take care of business with his father the sooner he could return to Galveston with Shannon, back to familiar ground where he stood a better chance at reconciling with her.

Staying out of her bed for now was definitely the wiser choice. He walked down the corridor, away from her and that blanket full of memories. He needed his focus sharp for the upcoming meeting with his father. This time, he would face the old man alone.

Charging down the hall, he barely registered the familiar antique wooden benches tucked here, a strategic table and guard posted there. Odd how quickly he slid right back into the surroundings even after so long away. And even stranger that his father hadn’t changed a thing.

The day had been one helluva ride, and it wasn’t over yet. Enrique had been with his nurse for the past hour, but should be ready to receive him now.

Tony rounded the corner and nodded to the sentinel outside the open door to Enrique’s personal quarters. The space was made for a man, no feminine touches to soften the room full of browns and tans, leather and wood. Enrique saved his Salvador Dali collection for himself, a trio of the surrealist’s “soft watches” melting over landscapes.

The old guy had become more obsessed with history after his had been stolen from him.

Enrique waited in his wheelchair, wearing a heavy blue robe and years of worries.

“Sit,” his father ordered, pointing to his old favored chair.

When Tony didn’t jump at his command, Enrique sighed heavily and muttered under his breath in Spanish. “Have a seat,” he continued in his native tongue. “We need to talk, mi hijo.”

They did, and Tony had to admit he was curious—concerned—about his father’s health. Knowing might not have brought him home sooner, but now that he was here, he couldn’t ignore the gaunt angles and sallow pallor. “How sick are you really?” Tony continued in Spanish, having spoken both languages equally once they’d left San Rinaldo. “No sugar coating it. I deserve the truth.”

“And you would have heard it earlier if you had returned when I first requested.”

His father had never requested anything in his life. The stubborn old cuss had been willing to die alone rather than actually admit how ill he was.

Of course Antonio had been just as stubborn about ignoring the demands to show his face on the island. “I am here now.”

“You and your brothers have stirred up trouble.” A great big I told you so was packed into that statement.

“Do you have insights as to how this leaked? How did that reporter identify Duarte?” His middle brother wasn’t exactly a social guy.

“Nobody knows, but my people are still looking into it. I thought you would be the one to expose us,” his father said wryly. “You always were the impetuous one. Yet you’ve behaved decisively and wisely. You have protected those close to you. Well done.”

“I am past needing your approval, but I thank you for your help.”

“Fair enough, and I’m well aware that you would not have accepted that help if Shannon Crawford was not involved. I would be glad to see one of my sons settled and married before I die.”

His gut pitched much like a boat tossed by a wave. “Your illness is that bad?” An uneasy silence settled, his father’s rattling breaths growing louder and louder. “Should I call a nurse?”

Or his assistant? He wasn’t sure what Alys Reyes de la Cortez was doing here, but she was definitely different from the older staff of San Rinaldo natives Enrique normally hired.

“I may be old and sick, but I don’t need to be tucked into bed like a child.” His chin tipped.

“I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Of course not. You’re here for my help.”

And he had the feeling his father wasn’t going to let him forget it. They’d never gotten along well and apparently that hadn’t changed. He started to rise. “If that’s all then, I will turn in.”

“Wait.” His father polished his eighteen-karat gold pocket watch with his thumb. “My assistance comes at a price.”

Shocked at the calculating tone, Tony sank back into his chair. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Completely.”

He should have suspected and prepared himself. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stay for the month while you wait for the new safety measures to be implemented.”

“Here? That’s all?” He made it sound offhand but already he could feel the claustrophobia wrap around his throat and tighten. The Dali art mocked him with just how slippery time could be, a life that ended in a flash or a moment that extended forever.

“Is it so strange I want to see what kind of man you have matured into?”

Given Enrique had expected Tony to break their cover, he must not have had high expectations for his youngest son. And that pissed him off. “If I don’t agree? You’ll do what? Feed Shannon and her son to the lions?”

“Her son can stay. I would never sacrifice a child’s safety. The mother will have to go.”

He couldn’t be serious. Tony studied his father for some sign Enrique was bluffing…but the old guy didn’t have a “tell.” And his father hadn’t hesitated to trust his own wife’s safety to others. What would stop him from sending Shannon off with a guard and a good-luck wish?

“She would never leave without her child.” Like his mother. Tony restrained a wince.

“That is not my problem. Are you truly that unwilling to spend a month here?”

“What if the restraining order comes through sooner?”

“I would ask you to stay as a thanks for my assistance. I have risked a lot for you in granting her access to the island.”

True enough, or so it would feel to Enrique with his near agoraphobic need to stay isolated from the world.

“And there are no other conditions?”

A salt and pepper eyebrow arched. “Do you want a contract?”

“Do you? If Shannon decides to leave by the weekend, I could simply go, too. What’s the worst you can do? Cut me out of the will?” He hadn’t taken a penny of his father’s money.

“You always were the most amusing of my sons. I have missed that.”

“I’m not laughing.”

His father’s smile faded and he tucked the watch into a pocket, chain jingling to a rest. “Your word is sufficient. You may not want any part of me and my little world here, but you are a Medina. You are my son. Your honor is not in question.”

“Fair enough. If you’re willing to accept my word, then a month it is.” Now that the decision was made, he wondered why his father had chosen that length of time. “What’s your prognosis?”

“My liver is failing,” Enrique said simply without any hint of self-pity. “Because of the living conditions when I was on the run, I caught hepatitis. It has taken a toll over the years.”

Thinking back, Tony tried to remember if his father had been sick when they’d reunited in South America before relocating to the island…but he only recalled his father being coolly determined. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“You were a child. You did not need to be informed of everything.”

He hadn’t been told much of anything in those days, but even if he had, he wasn’t sure he would have heard. His grief for his mother had been deep and dark. That, he remembered well. “How much longer do you have?”

“I am not going to kick off in the next thirty days.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“I know.” His father smiled, creases digging deep. “I have a sense of humor, too.”

What had his father been like before this place? Before the coup? Tony would never know because time was melting away like images in the Dali paintings on the wall.

While he had some memories of his mother from that time, he had almost none of his father until Enrique had met up with them in South America. The strongest memory he had of Enrique in San Rinaldo? When his father gathered his family to discuss the evacuation plan. Enrique had pressed his pocket watch into Tony’s hands and promised to reclaim it. But even at five, Tony had known his father was saying goodbye for what could have been the last time. Now, Enrique wanted him back to say goodbye for the last time again.

How damned ironic. He’d brought Shannon to this place because she needed him. And now he could only think of how much he needed to be with her.

Seven

Where was Tony?

The next day after lunch, Shannon stood alone on her balcony overlooking the ocean. Seagulls swooped on the horizon while long legged blue herons stalked prey on the rocks. Kolby was napping. A pot of steeped herbal tea waited on a tiny table along with dried fruits and nuts.

How strange to have such complete panoramic peace during such a tumultuous time. The balcony offered an unending view of the sea, unlike the other side with barrier islands. The temperature felt much the same as in Galveston, humid and in the seventies.

She should make the most of the quiet to regain her footing. Instead, she kept looking at the door leading into Tony’s suite and wondering why she hadn’t seen him yet.

Her morning had been hectic and more than a little overwhelming learning her way around the mansion with Alys. As much as she needed to resist Tony, she’d missed having his big comforting presence at her side while she explored the never-ending rooms packed nonchalantly with priceless art and antiques.

And they’d only toured half of the home and grounds.

Afterward, Alys had introduced two women on hand for sitter and nanny duties. Shannon had been taken aback by the notion of turning her son over to total strangers, although she had to confess, the guard assigned to shadow Kolby reassured her. She’d been shown letters of recommendation and résumés for each individual. Still, Shannon had spent the rest of the morning getting to know each person in case she needed to call on their help.

Interestingly, none of the king’s employees gave away the island’s location despite subtle questions about traveling back to their homes. Everyone on Enrique’s payroll seemed to understand the importance of discretion, as well as seeing to her every need. Including delivering a closet full of clothes that just happened to fit. Not that she’d caved to temptation yet and tried any of it on. A gust rolling off the ocean teased the well-washed cotton of her sundress around her legs as she stood on the balcony.

The click of double doors opening one suite down snapped her from her reverie. She didn’t even need to look over her shoulder to verify who’d stepped outside. She knew the sound of his footsteps, recognized the scent of him on the breeze.

“Hello, Tony.”

His Italian loafers stopped alongside her feet in simple pink and brown striped flip-flops. Hers. Not ones from the new stash.

Leaning into her line of sight, he rested his elbows on the iron rail. “Sorry not to have checked in on you sooner. My father and I spent the morning troubleshooting on a conference call with my brothers and our attorneys.”

Of course. That made sense. “Any news?”

“More of the same. Hopefully we can start damage control with some valid info leaked to the press to turn the tide. There’s just so much out there.” He shook his head sharply then forced a smile. “Enough of that. I missed you at lunch.”

“Kolby and I ate in our suite.” The scent of Tony’s sandalwood aftershave had her curling her toes. “His table manners aren’t up to royal standards.”

“You don’t have to hide in your rooms. There’s no court or ceremony here.” Still, he wore khakis and a monogrammed blue button-down rolled up at the sleeves rather than the jeans and shorts most everyday folks would wear on a beach vacation.

And he looked mighty fine in every starched inch of fabric.

“Formality or not, there are priceless antiques and art all easily within a child’s reach.” She trailed her fingers along the iron balustrade. “This place is a lot to absorb. We need time. Although I hope life returns to normal sooner rather than later.”

Could she simply pick up where she’d left off? Things hadn’t been so great then, given her nearly bankrupt account and her fight with Tony over more than money, over her very independence. Yet hadn’t she been considering resuming the affair just last night?

Sometimes it was tough to tell if her hormones or her heart had control these days.

He extended his hand. “You’re right. Let’s slow things down. Would you like to go for a walk?”

“But Kolby might wake up and ask for m—”

“One of the nannies can watch over him and call us the second his eyes open. Come on. I’ll update you on the wackiest of the internet buzz.” A half grin tipped one side of his tanned face. “Apparently one source thinks the Medinas have a space station and I’ve taken you to the mother ship.”

Laughter bubbled, surprising her, and she just let it roll free with the wind tearing in from the shore. God, how she needed it after the stressful past couple of days—a stressful week for that matter, since she had broken off her relationship with Tony. “Lead the way, my alien lover.”

His smile widened, reaching his eyes for the first time since their ferry had pulled up to the island. The power outshone the world around her until she barely noticed the opulent surroundings on their way through the mansion to the beach.

The October sun high in the sky was blinding and warm, hotter than when she’d been on the balcony, inching up toward eighty degrees perhaps. Her mind started churning with possible locations. Could they be in Mexico or South America? Or were they still in the States? California or—

“We’re off the coast of Florida.”

Glancing up sharply, she swallowed hard, not realizing until that moment how deeply the secrecy had weighed on her. “Thank you.”

He waved aside her gratitude. “You would have figured it out on your own in a couple of days.”

Maybe, but given the secrecy of Enrique’s employees, she wasn’t as certain. “So, what about more of those wacky internet rumors?”

“Do you really want to discuss that?”

“I guess not.” She slid off her flip-flops and curled her toes in the warm sand. “Thank you for all the clothes for me and for Kolby, the toys, too. We’ll enjoy them while we’re here. But you know we can’t keep them.”

“Don’t be a buzz kill.” He tapped her nose just below the bridge of her glasses. “My father’s staff ordered everything. I had nothing to do with it. If it’ll make you happy, we’ll donate the lot to Goodwill after you leave.”

“How did he get everything here so fast?” She strode into the tide, her shoes dangling from her fingers.

“Does it matter?” He slid off his shoes and socks and joined her, just into the water’s reach.

With the more casual and familiar Tony returning, some of the tension left her shoulders. “I guess not. The toys are awesome, of course, but Kolby enjoys the dogs most. They seem incredibly well trained.”

“They are. My father will have his trainers working with the dogs to bond with your son so they will protect him as well if need be while you are here.”

She shivered in spite of the bold beams of sunshine overhead. “Can’t a dog just be a pet?”

“Things aren’t that simple for us.” He looked away, down the coast at an osprey spreading its wings and diving downward.

How many times had he watched the birds as a child and wanted to fly away, too? She understood well the need to escape a golden cage. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He rejected her sympathy outright.

Pride iced his clipped words, and she searched for a safer subject.

Her eyes settled on the rippling crests of foam frosting the gray-blue shore. “Is this where you used to surf?”

“Actually, the cove is pretty calm.” He pointed ahead to an outcropping packed with palm trees. “The best spot is about a mile and a half down. Or at least it was. Who knows after so many years?”

“You really had free rein to run around the island.” She stepped onto a sandbar that fingered out into the water. As a mother, she had a tough time picturing her child exploring this junglelike beach at will.

“Once I was a teenager, pretty much. After I was through with schooling for the day, of course.” A green turtle popped his head from the water, legs poking from the shell as he swam out and slapped up the beach. “Although sometimes we even had class out here.”

“A field trip to the beach? What fun teachers you had.”

“Tutors.”

“Of course.” The stark difference in their upbringings wrapped around her like seaweed lapping at her ankles. She tried to shake free of the clammy negativity. “Surfing was your P.E.?”

“Technically, we had what you would call phys ed, but it was more of a health class with martial arts training.”

During her couple of years teaching high school band and chorus before she’d met Nolan, some of her students went to karate lessons. But they’d gone to a gym full of other students, rather than attending in seclusion with only two brothers for company. “It’s so surreal to think you never went to prom, or had an after-school job or played on a basketball team.”

“We had games here…but you’re right in that there was no stadium of classmates and parents. No cheerleaders.” He winked and smiled, but she sensed he was using levity as a diversion.

How often had he done that in the past and she’d missed out hearing his real thoughts or feelings because she wanted things to be uncomplicated?

Shannon squeezed his bulging forearm. “You would have been a good football player with your size.”

“Soccer.” His bicep twitched under her touch. “I’m from Europe, remember?”

“Of course.” Unlikely she would ever forget his roots now that she knew. And she wanted to learn more about this strong-jawed man who thought to order a miniature motorized Jeep for her son—and then give credit to his father.

She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as she swished through the ebbs and flow of the tidewaters. “So you still think of yourself as being from Europe? Even though you were only five when you came to the U.S.?”

His eyebrows pinched together. “I never really thought of this as the U.S. even though I know how close we are.”

“I can understand that. Everything here is such a mix of cultures.” While the staff spoke English to her, she’d heard Spanish spoken by some. Books and magazines and even instructions on labels were a mix of English, Spanish and some French. “You mentioned thinking this was still San Rinaldo when you got here.”

“Only at first. My father told us otherwise.”

What difficult conversations those must have been between father and sons. So much to learn and adjust to so young. “We’ve both lost a lot, you and I. I wonder if I sensed that on some level, if that’s what drew us to each other.”

He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer while they kicked through the surf. “Don’t kid yourself. I was attracted to how hot you looked walking away in that slim black skirt. And then when you glanced over your shoulder with those prim glasses and do-me eyes.” He whistled long and low. “I was toast from the get-go.”

Trying not to smile, her skin heating all the same, she elbowed him lightly. “Cro-Magnon.”

“Hey, I’m a red-blooded male and you’re sexy.” He traced the cat-eye edge of her glasses. “You’re also entirely too serious at the moment. Life will kick us in the ass all on its own soon enough. We’re going to just enjoy the moment, remember? No more buzz kills.”

“You’re right.” Who knew how much longer she would have with Tony before this mess blew up in her face? “Let’s go back to talking about surfing and high school dances. You so would have been the bad boy.”

“And I’ll bet you were a good girl. Did you wear those studious glasses even then?”

“Since I was in the eighth grade.” She’d hated how her nose would sweat in the heat when she’d marched during football games. “I was a dedicated musician with no time for boys.”

“And now?”

“I want to enjoy this beautiful ocean and a day with absolutely nothing to do.” She bolted ahead, kicking through the tide, not sure how to balance her impulsive need for Tony with her practical side that demanded she stay on guard.

Footsteps splashed behind her a second before Tony scooped her up. And she let him.

The warm heat of his shoulder under her cheek, the steady pump of his heart against her side had her curling her arms around his neck. “You’re getting us all wet.”

His eyes fell to her shirt. His heart thumped faster. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes, I am.” She toyed with the springy curls at the nape of his neck. “You always make sure of that, whether it’s an opera or a walk by the beach.”

“You deserve to have more fun in your life.” He held her against his chest with a familiarity she couldn’t deny. “I would make things easier for you. You know that.”

“And you know where I stand on that subject.” She cupped his face, his stubble so dark and thick that he wore a perpetual five o’clock shadow. “This—your protection, the trip, the clothes and toys—it’s already much more than I’m comfortable taking.”

She needed to be clear on that before she even considered letting him closer again.

He eased her to her feet with a lingering glide of her body down his. “We should go back.”

The desire in his eyes glinted unmistakably in the afternoon sun. Yet, he pulled away.

Her lips hungered and her breasts ached—and he was walking away again, in spite of all he’d said about how much he wanted her. This man confused the hell out of her.

* * *

Five days later, Shannon lounged on the downstairs lanai and watched her son drive along the beach in his miniature Jeep, dogs romping alongside. This was the first time she’d been left to her own devices in days. She’d never been romanced so thoroughly in her life. True to his word, over the past week Tony had been at his most charming.

Could her time here already be almost over?

Sipping freshly squeezed lemonade—although the drink tasted far too amazing for such a simple name—she savored the tart taste. Of course everything seemed sharper, crisper as tension seeped from her bones. The concerns of the world felt forever away while the sun warmed her skin and the waves provided a soothing sound track to her days.

And she had Tony to thank for it all. She’d never known there were so many entertainment options on an island. Of course Enrique Medina had spared no expense in building his compound.

A movie screening room with all the latest films piped in for private viewing.

Three different dining rooms for everything from family style to white-tie.

Rec room, gym, indoor and outdoor swimming pools.

She could still hear Kolby’s squeal of delight over the stable of horses and ponies.

Throughout it all, Tony had been at her side with tantalizing brushes of his strong body against hers. All the while his rich chocolate brown eyes reminded Shannon that the next move was up to her. Not that they stood a chance at finding privacy today. The grounds buzzed with activity, and today, no sign of Tony.

Behind her, the doors snicked open. Tony? Her heart stuttered a quick syncopation as she glanced back.

Alys walked toward her, high heels clicking on the tiled veranda as she angled past two guards comparing notes on their twin BlackBerry phones. Shannon forced herself to keep the smile in place. It would be rude to frown in disappointment, especially after how helpful the woman had been.