“I didn’t cheat you,” she started. “When I found out my brother had—”
“I’m not interested in your explanations,” Rico spoke up, cutting her off as he moved in close enough to lay both hands on her shoulders. The feel of her again after all this time was almost too much for him. He steeled himself against his body’s instinctive reaction to being with her and focused instead on that still-hot ball of rage in the pit of his stomach. “The time to explain was five years ago, Teresa.”
She flinched and he knew his words had been a direct hit. Oddly, that knowledge didn’t give him as much pleasure as it should have. “All I want from your family now is what’s rightfully mine.”
Her eyes widened and as if he could read her thoughts, he shook his head. “No, Teresa. I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about the Aztec dagger your brother took from me. I want it back. And until I get it, you’re not going anywhere.”
Three
Teresa could have sworn she actually felt a lock tumble on the box Rico had trapped her in. He was right. No matter what he wanted or asked or demanded of her, she’d give it, because she couldn’t risk her family going to prison.
She felt more vulnerable with Rico now than she had on the night she’d first met the staggeringly sexy man on a deserted Mexican beach. And back then, one look at Rico and her knees had gone weak. Now, though, she couldn’t risk showing any weakness at all. The man in front of her might still be her husband—but he was a stranger.
She’d tried to keep up with him, of course. She hadn’t been able to rid her mind or heart of his memory, so she’d fed the need to see him by reading tabloids and looking him up on Google. And though it had chewed at her heart to see him squiring some beautiful model or actress around, it had also met the need she had to see his face. He hadn’t exactly lived the life of a monk since the last time she’d been with him. But she couldn’t hold that against him, could she, since they were divorced.
Or so she’d thought.
“I can’t believe we’re still married.”
His mouth curved into a brief, sardonic smile. “Believe it, Teresa.”
She shook her head. “But I paid the attorney. He sent me the final decree.”
“Esteban came to me when you hired him,” Rico told her. “He owed me a debt.”
“And you used me as his payment?”
“You can actually accuse me of using you?” There was no smile now, only fire flashing in his blue eyes as if the anger churning inside was manifesting into actual flames. “I think we both know the real truth.”
She couldn’t blame him for believing what he did, but it just wasn’t accurate. “I didn’t use you, Rico. I wouldn’t.”
“I would find that easier to believe if you hadn’t vanished—along with a valuable antique.”
She pushed one hand through her hair, fingers tangling in the thick, black mass. Even now, she could kick her brother Gianni. Five years ago, she’d specifically asked her family to leave Rico alone, but Gianni hadn’t been able to help himself. Instead, he’d taken the gold Aztec dagger that Rico prized above everything else. And in doing that, Teresa’s brother had made Teresa’s decision for her.