Renegade Millionaire (10 page)

Slowly Rio rolled her aside, breaking all intimate contact, leaving him feeling oddly bereft. He came to his feet and started toward the door, his limbs heavy with satisfaction, his head and heart burdened with guilt.

Without retrieving his clothes, without even a glance back, he muttered, “I'm sorry.”

S
orry?

Joanna could only stare mutely at Rio's strong back as he left the room, left her lying naked on the floor with her mouth agape and her body still shaking from their lovemaking.

Lovemaking? Not hardly, she thought. Sex would be a more accurate description. Wicked, fast, incredible sex. Except for one thing. When Rio had slid inside her body, he'd managed to work his way further into her heart. And she hated that, hated that she'd left herself so open, so vulnerable to a man who had promised her nothing beyond a place to live and a vow that they would be lovers. Now they were lovers, and he was sorry.

Snatching her robe from the floor, Joanna shrugged it on and secured the belt at her waist so tightly she thought she might cut off the circulation from her neck to her ribs. With determined steps, she walked into his
bedroom to find him stretched out on his back on the bed beneath a sheet—a black satin sheet that sheltered only his groin and left leg, leaving his chest exposed as well as the rigid plane of his abdomen. His other leg, bent at the knee, revealed the distinct, solid muscle defining his calf and thigh, both covered in a fine veneer of dark, masculine hair.

Joanna forced her gaze to Rio's face where he had an arm draped over his eyes, his dark hair a near match to the sleek black pillow. Even now, even though she could probably spit nails because of his sudden departure, desire shot back to life, threatening to urge her forward into his bed, into his arms to invite him back inside her body.

With all the strength she could muster, Joanna hugged her arms to her middle in order to resist him. But she refused to leave until she'd said her piece. “Do you mind explaining what that was all about?”

“You know what that was all about.” His voice sounded coarse, either from the lack of sleep or an abundance of regret.

“I'm not talking about the sex, Rio. I'm talking about you running away with nothing more than some lame apology.”

He dropped his arm from his eyes yet failed to look at anything but the ceiling. “I apologize again. I should never have allowed that to happen.”

She should never have let him into her life, much less into her heart. “You weren't exactly alone in there. And if you'll recall, I didn't stop you.”

“You didn't ask me, either.”

Frustration brought fire to Joanna's cheeks. “Was I supposed to say, ‘Rio, take me now'? I think it was more than obvious that I wanted it to happen.”

He turned to his side to face her, his elbow bent and his palm providing support for his jaw. The sheet slipped lower, revealing a glimpse of the mat of dark hair below his navel and the jaguar. Only a microinch more, and Joanna would be able to see everything that made Rio Madrid undeniably male. Moments ago, she had gained personal, intimate knowledge of that part of him, and she'd been anything but disappointed. Her pulse sprinted with the remembrance of how glorious it had felt to have him fill her completely. She wanted to relive it again. Here. Now.

Joanna clenched her jaw, angered by her sudden lack of self-discipline. What on earth was wrong with her? She was supposed to be mad at him, furious even. She wasn't supposed to want him, but regretfully she still did.

He settled his golden gaze on her eyes. “You deserve more than a quick roll, Joanna.”

“I deserve some honesty, Rio. Some respect.”

“It's because I respect you that I'm feeling pretty damn guilty at the moment.” He rolled onto his back and sent one large palm slowly down his chest, bringing it to rest over the jaguar below his belly, as if he and that powerful symbol were truly one. “If I hadn't left when I did, I ran the risk of losing control again.”

Joanna's mood brightened somewhat, knowing that he hadn't been disappointed by the experience. Knowing he had wanted her as much as she'd wanted him, at least from a physical standpoint. “And what exactly is wrong with losing control? Does that make you too human?”

“It makes me less of a man because I didn't stop to consider what you need. But when I watched you bathing, touching yourself in the shower, I couldn't think beyond what I wanted—to finally be inside you even if
it meant taking you on a bathroom floor.” He released a humorless laugh. “Not one of my finer moments.”

Joanna would have to argue that, but she wouldn't do anything to nourish his ego. “Why can't we just chalk it up to pure animal lust?” The words sounded hollow, even to her own ears. It hadn't been that simple, at least not for her.

Rio sent a glance her way before returning his sullen gaze back to the ceiling. “In my experience, I've learned that women are brave beyond all bounds, stronger than most men in many instances. They deserve to be treated with the utmost respect.” He turned his head toward her. “You're a single mother, Joanna. You have a responsibility to your son as well as to yourself. You don't need to be involved with someone like me.”

“Then you're saying you're not worthy?”

“I'm saying that I probably can't give you what you need beyond sex. Do you really want to settle for only that?”

Joanna didn't know what she wanted at the moment. She only knew that when she was with him, no matter what the circumstance, she experienced some sort of spiritual connection. That in itself was ill advised, something that had become painfully obvious the moment Rio had admitted that he could offer her nothing more than a little sexual satisfaction. A
quick roll
now and then.

Weary and exhausted, she saw no reason to continue a conversation that would get them nowhere, at least not now. She needed to go to work, fulfill her responsibilities, leave Rio to his remorse while she dealt with her own. She had to learn to accept him for who he was—a man who wanted no ties, a man very much like her ex-husband in that regard though that's where the similarity ended. Still, she couldn't make those same mis
takes again, not when it came to her threadbare heart and her son's welfare.

Tipping up her chin, shoring up her frame, she dropped her hands to her sides and fisted the robe in a death grip. “Now that you've cleared everything up, I'll get ready for work. We can forget this ever happened.” She would never forget. Ever.

As she turned away, he caught her hand, jolting her, unnerving her, but she didn't dare face him.

“I wish things were different, Joanna, and maybe someday you'll understand.” His voice held a trace of sadness, of regret. “But right now, you only have to understand one thing. I can't remember ever wanting a woman as much as I want you.” When his warm lips slid over her wrist, a flash of memory, sharp as a needle stick, bolted into Joanna's brain—the memory of his mouth caressing her thoroughly. Every part of her.

It would be so effortless to give into those memories, to go to him and experience each one again. To accept the fact that he could give her everything she desired when it came to lovemaking, yet he couldn't give her love.

In the silence of the room, with her hand still steadfastly wrapped in his hand, her life reluctantly meshed with his life, she secretly admitted that a part of her needed his love.

Pulling from his grasp, Joanna rushed back to her room, away from him. As she had that first night in the ballroom, she instinctively knew that she might never escape the hold he had on her, no matter how far or how fast she ran.

 

Rio had opted to drive to the hospital on the bike this morning in hopes that some cold air might clear his
head. It hadn't. Now in the process of making morning rounds, the mental fog cluttering his mind wouldn't dissipate, even after two cups of espresso he'd made at home and one mudlike cup of coffee he'd managed to gulp down in the doctors' lounge.

Exhaustion wasn't hindering his thought processes; Joanna was. He couldn't halt the guilt trip he seemed determined to take. He couldn't shake what had happened between them earlier. Nor could he stop thinking he wanted it to happen again.

Right now he had to quit considering everything but his duty to his patients.

He strode down the hospital corridor running on autopilot. When he arrived at his destination, he snapped the chart from outside the door and pushed his way into the room. The woman whose baby he'd delivered only a few hours ago looked up from the bed expectantly.

Though she appeared thoroughly worn out, she managed a bright grin. “Good morning, Dr. Madrid.”

He returned a courteous smile that felt much too forced. “How are you doing, Mrs. Rutherford?”

“I'm doing great, but I'd be even better if they'd bring me my baby.”

Rio glanced at the empty crib near the bed. “Have you seen him since the delivery?”

“No, but the nurse told me that right after they had him bathed and dressed, they'd bring him right in.”

“How long ago was that?”

She glanced at the wall clock. “About two hours ago, I think. I drifted off. I do hope they bring him soon because my husband's coming back before he has to leave for work. He's bringing our daughter.”

Rio dropped the chart on the bedside table and said, “I'll be right back.”

Returning to the hallway, he dashed to the nurses' station and found the charge nurse charting at the desk. “Sara, do you know why the Rutherford baby hasn't been brought to his mother?”

The woman looked up and shrugged. “Sorry. I didn't know he hadn't been. She's not my patient. We've been swamped since the shift change.”

Rio was swamped by sudden anger. But he reined in his temper knowing she didn't warrant his frustration. “The mother is breast-feeding,” he said, taking the edge from his voice. “Mind calling the nursery to find out what's going on?”

“Sure, Dr. Madrid. Anything else?”

“Nope, that's it.”

Her gray eyes narrowed and she frowned. “Rough night?”

Rough morning. “Just the usual.”

She closed the chart and gave him her full attention. “Well, I hope you get some rest this weekend. We've got a full moon on Monday. You know what that means.”

Yeah, he knew what full moons meant. All hell breaking loose in the baby department. He thought about his mother, in part because Sara reminded him somewhat of her—kind eyes and a worldly wisdom—but anytime he considered the moon, he thought of her. She'd wholeheartedly believed in the powers of the universe, legends learned from her Mayan heritage, but most of all she believed in the infinite power of love. And she'd loved Rio's stepfather, though God only knew why. The man had been anything but lovable.

He sent Sara a brief smile and a muttered, “Thanks,” then headed away.

An unexpected sadness settled over Rio as he walked
the quiet corridor. An overwhelming feeling of loss, but he considered that it only had to do in part with his mother, and more to do with losing Joanna. That realization made him take a mental step back. You couldn't lose something you've never really had, he decided. And he couldn't have Joanna, not beyond what they had shared this morning.

By the time he made it back to his patient, Mr. Rutherford had returned to his wife with their five-year-old-daughter in tow. Rutherford stuck out his beefy hand. “Great to see you, Dr. Madrid. Thanks for everything you did last night.”

Rio took the hand he offered for a quick, robust shake. “Your wife did all the work. I was just there to make the catch.”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford chuckled while their frowning daughter looked on, twirling a blond curl around her finger with a vengeance.

The door swung open to a nurse carrying a yellow bundle in her arms.

“Looks like the guest of honor has finally arrived,” Rio said. After he took the newborn from her, the nurse rushed away as if she expected he might take her head off. Obviously Sara had read the staff the riot act over not bringing the child in sooner.

Rio approached the bed to finally unite child with mother but first caught a glimpse of round cheeks and sleepy innocence from beneath the blanket. Another bout of melancholy crept in as he laid the baby in Mrs. Rutherford's arms.

“Does he have a name yet?” Rio asked.

“Rufus Harold Jr.,” Mr. Rutherford stated with open pride.

Rufus Rutherford. Tough break, Rio thought. “And
you are?” he asked the little girl who seemed totally disinterested in her brother, if not somewhat annoyed.

She jutted out her chin in defiance. “Rita Louise Rutherford and I don't like babies.”

“Rita,” Mrs. Rutherford scolded. “You haven't even seen him yet. Come take a look.”

“I don't wanna.”

A classic case of sibling rivalry, Rio decided. When Mr. Rutherford stepped forward as if to escort his daughter out, Rio put up a hand to stop him then pulled a lollipop from his lab-coat pocket and offered it to Rita. “For the big sister.”

She seemed somewhat appeased yet still not overly thrilled as she unwrapped the candy and stuck it in her mouth. Rio knelt on her level. “My mother spoke often about the sun and moon. The sun is strong and therefore in charge of looking after the moon.” He brushed away a golden curl from her shoulder. “Since your hair is the color of the sun, then your little brother will be the moon. He'll look to you for guidance. That's a very important job. Think you can do that, Rita?”

She glanced over her shoulder toward the baby then pulled the sucker from her mouth with a pop. “I guess so, as long as he doesn't get into my stuff.”

Rio presented his first real smile of the day when Rita gave him a winning grin. “Why don't you try holding him?”

After Rita nodded and handed her father the candy, Rio picked her up and put her on the bed. Mrs. Rutherford gently placed the baby in his sister's arms and Rio saw an immediate transformation in the little girl. New life had a way of working on a person, no matter what that person's age.

Mrs. Rutherford looked up with a grateful expression. “Thank you, Dr. Madrid.”