Her Return to King's Bed(20)

                Narrowing his gaze on her, he blurted out, “Was it all a lie? Right from the beginning?”

                She turned so quickly her dark hair swung out around her in a curtain of silky movement. “What do you want me to say?”

                Tricky question.

                “I want the truth, but somehow I doubt I’ll get it,” Rico said, never taking his gaze off the woman across the room from him.

                “Then why should I say anything?” she countered. “You wouldn’t believe whatever I told you.”

                How the hell could he? He kept his distance purposely. He didn’t quite trust himself when he was too close to her. The need in him roared for satisfaction and the anger was just as raw.

                Oh, he’d never hurt her. He didn’t hurt women. But damn it, he didn’t want to blackmail her into staying with him, either. Damn her for bringing him to this. And damn her for putting him here, in this position. Soon enough, though, he would have her panting to have him making love to her once again. Then he would remind her just what she’d given up by disappearing so long ago.

                No other person in the world had managed to twist Rico up like she had. She’d dug so deeply inside him, there was no room for anyone else. He had his family, of course. The Kings were loyal down to the bone.

                But there hadn’t been another woman in his life since Teresa and his body was clamoring for what he’d denied it for too damn long.

                Sure, he’d gone out with women. Had even brought a few of them back to his rooms at the hotel. But he’d never brought one to his home before. Never taken one into his bed. Not since Teresa.

                He knew what it looked like to the world at large, but the world saw what it wanted to see. A billionaire playboy. The man with a succession of gorgeous women on his arm. But those women never touched him. Never shared his bed. And none of them would admit to it, because none of them could stand letting the public know that they hadn’t been able to coax a King into their beds.

                So as Teresa had lied to him, Rico had lived a lie for five long years and now that the end was in sight, he wanted her so badly he was hard as stone. So yeah, better he keep his distance.

                “Try me. Tell me why. Why any of it?”

                “Telling you why won’t change anything, Rico. Why go there?”

                “We never left there.”

                She shrugged and walked to the French doors opposite his bed that led to the terrace. She stared out and he knew the view she was looking at. The white sand beach. The aquamarine ocean beyond. The banyan trees and the double-wide hammock strung between them. There was a stone patio out there, surrounded by so many different varieties of flowers it took the breath away even as it urged you to breathe deeply, to savor the scents and tastes on the wind. There was a boat at his private dock, a yacht that Rico took out when he needed complete privacy and time to think. And when it was still and quiet enough, you could hear the waterfall in the nearby forest that splashed over rocks worn smooth by time and the relentless rush of the river.

                He’d built his treasure, his paradise on Tesoro. And now that she was here—it felt complete.

                “There’s nothing I can say to you, Rico.”

                “There’s plenty you could have said five years ago,” he countered.

                She blew out a breath and shook her head. “If I give you a reason, will it make this better for you?”