Playing for Hearts (58 page)

Dana wiped the counter in the kitchen and restacked the dishes she'd washed. Juan leaned against the refrigerator and studied her. He'd arrived at the suite this evening with his mom and Maria to find Dana standing in the kitchen with their dinner plates filled.

She'd served them a fabulous lasagna with a side plate of salad. But she hadn't calmed down all evening, despite the dinner going amazingly well. His mom couldn't take her eyes off his wife, who played the gracious hostess as if she'd entertained private dinners for years. But all through the meal, Dana had remained quiet and she barely touched any of her food.

Dana wrung out the dishtowel again. “Go join your family, Juan. I'll be there in a minute. I just want to clean the kitchen so we don't have a mess in the morning. Then I'll dish up dessert before your family goes back to their room.”

“That can wait.” He moved over, took the rag out of her hand, and turned her to face him. “What's going on? Did my family say something to upset you?”

Her gaze snapped to his eyes, and she shook her head. “God, no. They're wonderful.”

“I'm glad to hear you're getting along with everyone, but you haven't relaxed at all tonight.” He pulled her to him and pressed her head to his chest. “Relax. My mom's in love with you, and my sister told me she thinks you're awesome.”

“Awesome?” she mumbled against his shirt.

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

Her body shook, and he laughed with her, but when her body continued to tremble, he realized she wasn't finding the situation amusing, but was crying. He framed her face with his hands. “Babe? Don't cry. Talk to me.”

“I'm a fake.” She sniffed. “I'm not awesome, and if your mom knew who I really am and what I've done to trick you into marriage, she'd hate me. It's embarrassing, and I want to tell her the truth about how I trapped you — ”

“Stop right there. It was mutual.” He held her gaze. “We both jumped into getting married, so it's both our faults. We're dealing with it, right?”

“I'm not good enough for you,” she whispered.

“That's not true.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, yeah?” She backed away and opened the oven. “Can you tell me your family will still think I'm good enough for you if they find out what I've done?”

He frowned. Either she wasn't making any sense, or he was more tired than he thought.

Dana stabbed the air, pointing inside the oven. He walked over and leaned down, peering inside.

A foil pan sat on a rack. Before he could ask what he was looking for, she reached inside. He grabbed her wrist. “Don't. You'll burn — ”

But he was too late. She'd shoved her other hand inside the oven, removed the aluminum lid without using a potholder, and held the dish up. “Look.”

A sticker with the words “Sally's Cuisine — We deliver” decorated the top. A bubble of hilarity tickled his throat.

Dana tossed the lid on the counter, whirled around to the fridge, and opened the freezer. “And here's dessert.”

She held up a gallon of ice cream. “I didn't even have the courage to pick up some fudge to warm, because I was afraid I'd scorch the chocolate and embarrass you in front of your family. The fact is, I can't cook. I can't mix drinks. The only time I do laundry is when I run out of clothes, and lately, when that happens, I wear yours instead.”

“Oh, babe … ” He reached for her.

She backed away. “I'm not good enough to fit into your family, even if it's for only two more weeks.”

He gazed up at the ceiling. High maintenance or not, he wasn't letting Dana feel anything but perfect for him. He picked out four bowls, four spoons, handed the silverware to Dana, and grabbed the ice cream, tucking it under his arm, while catching her free hand.

“Come on,” he said.

“Juan.” She dragged her feet. “Please, don't. This is embarrassing.”

“No, it's normal and it's time you realized that I don't see you as anything but wonderful.” He continued into the main room. “Time to dish up,” he announced.

“Oh my God,” Dana whispered.

Maria jumped up from the couch. “I'm stuffed, but I never turn down dessert. What kind?”

“French vanilla.” Juan passed her a spoon.

Dana had a lot to learn about how a real family communicated and treated each other. He'd challenged his mom more times than he was proud of, but at the end of the day, he knew she'd have his back and he was loved. He wanted Dana to experience acceptance, even if she couldn't cook and rather keep part of herself secret to them all.

“Ah, ice cream. That brings back some good memories.” His mom squeezed his arm and smiled. “Remember the summer I bought the electronic ice cream mixer?”

Juan laughed and turned to Dana, who stood back from everyone biting her lip. “When I was twelve — ” he pointed at Maria “ — and she was ten, Mom bought this ice cream maker at a garage sale down the street. Then she proceeded to turn Saturdays into a special family time by serving homemade ice cream to us.”

Maria snorted. “Ugh. Don't remind me. Too bad we couldn't afford a therapist, because I needed one back then.”

“Shush, Maria. You're being melodramatic.” His mom licked her spoon and grinned at Dana. “That ice cream maker put our family on the map. In our neighborhood, Juan's achievements make the news, but I'm the famous one among our friends.”

Juan scooped a heaping spoonful of ice cream in a bowl and handed it to Dana. “At the end of the summer, Mom invited the neighbors to a get-together at our house … a backyard party. She served her famous ice cream.”

He took a bite and swallowed. Dana stared at him. He waved his spoon. “Personally, I thought Mom's ice cream was the best thing I'd ever tasted. I don't know what the big deal was.”

“It's gross.” Maria stuck her tongue out.

“You say that now, but you ate it all summer long.” His mom walked over and stood beside Dana.

“What made you famous?” Dana pulled out a chair and sat.

Juan took the seat beside her.

“It turns out that the man I bought it from used the ice cream maker as a dog food dish for his St. Bernard for years.” Mom covered her mouth and laughed. “Of course, I had washed it before using it, but everyone on the block had seen the dog eat out of it on the porch. Anyway, I brought the machine out onto the picnic table, and the next thing I know, that St. Bernard knocked me down and ate up all our ice cream. There was nothing any of us could do, but stand and watch the dog eat all the ice cream.”

“The dog ruined your party,” Dana said.

His mom shook her head. “Oh no, not at all. I'd made extra ice cream and had twenty gallons in the freezer. I brought more out, but by that time everyone could picture the dog — with all that drool, eating out of the ice cream maker, and refused to eat any. For the next six months, we had a bowl of ice cream every night until it was gone.”

“She became famous, and I was ridiculed.” Maria rolled her eyes and sat at the table. “When I went to school, kids would put doggy biscuits on my desk. I never lived it down.”

Juan threw back his head and laughed. “I still think it was the best ice cream.”

Dana smiled. He grinned at her, glad to see her relaxing. For several minutes, they all concentrated on finishing dessert.

Finally, Dana cleared her throat. “I didn't make the lasagna.”

His mom set her spoon in her bowl. Juan reached under the table and laid his hand on Dana's leg.

“To tell you the truth, I can't cook.” She looked at Juan. “I wanted to impress you, so you both would think Juan had a wife who could take care of him, but I'm afraid I'm the lucky one in our marriage. Juan has a wonderful family, and he's done more for me in the short time we've been married than I can ever do in a lifetime. I'm sorry if I've disappointed you, but I thought it would be better to buy already made food and ice cream from the store, and not give you food poisoning or embarrass Juan.”

Maria rose from her spot, leaned over, and hugged Dana. Juan sat back, watching his wife in awe. Never had he been so humbled and proud. Dana had given him a gift that he'd hold close to him forever. She honored his family. What Dana didn't understand was that he was the man he was today because of his mom.

“My son has been blessed his whole life. But today, he is rich.” Mom held Dana's face in her hands. “He has enough money to buy anything he wants, except you. You're priceless and a gift to someone like him. Remember that, Dana. Cooking dinner … that's unimportant when I can see how he looks at you, and know he's truly happy and content, probably for the first time in his life.”

Dana nodded. “Thank you.”

“All right, it's getting too crowded in here.” Maria picked up everyone's empty bowls. “I'm going to put these in the sink, and then Mom and I are going to our room. I'm sure Juan has an early morning. He'd probably like to relax before he goes to sleep.”

Maria glanced over her shoulder on her way to the door and whispered, “Mom will fall asleep after the ten o'clock news, and I'm hitting the lounge. If you two want to join me, the drinks are on me.”

Juan winked at his sister, and stayed put. Nothing would drag him away from Dana tonight. He had plans to show Dana how much he appreciated her.

Two beats after the front door closed, Dana leaned over and rested her head on his arm. “I want your family.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I want you.”

She raised her gaze. The same desire he was feeling reflected back in her eyes. He stood and scooped her out of the chair.

Finally, he had his wife to himself. He had an early practice scheduled for the morning, and he wasn't wasting a single minute.

Juan's grunt of approval this morning pleased her. Dana planted her hands on his chest. Dinner last night had turned into a wonderful evening spent with his family because of him. Afterward, she'd shown him how grateful she was of his support.

“Thank you.” Dana nibbled on Juan's ear. “Again.”

He'd shown her how appreciative he was of her skills in bed. Now it was her turn to show him how much having him appreciate her meant to her, and she wasn't going to let him get away with going to practice until she was through with him.

She slid down onto his erection. She caught her lip between her teeth as her body trembled in pleasure. It was always magical when they came together. He belonged in her, and she luxuriated in the contentment and excitement of having him again.

She leaned forward and braced her hands on the mattress above his shoulders. Slow, steady, and spectacular, she indulged in having him all to herself. Nobody around to distract him or calling him for an interview, just him and her, enjoying their short-term marriage.

Every nerve in her body hummed. Undulating her hips against him, she grew engrossed with how well their bodies matched. He had all the strength and power that she needed, and the understanding that she craved. Her breath left her with each of his thrusts.

Her inner muscles squeezed and caressed him with each stroke. Her head fell forward and Juan cradled her head while his hips moved and his tongue entered her mouth. Overloaded on sensations, a scream built up deep inside of her, exciting her more.

Juan gripped her hips. She arched her back and rode him hard.

“That's it, babe … ”

She let the pulsating muscles explode, and sweet release washed over her. “God, yes!”

Juan thrust one last time and shuddered underneath her. She sagged on top of him, chest to chest, and sighed as he ran his hands up and down her back. The way he touched her soul filled her with an overwhelming sense of belonging.

Once they arrived in Germany and the Olympics were over, they'd go their separate ways. Then she'd straighten out her life. She swallowed hard. Then she'd lose Juan.

“Hey.” He rolled to his side, taking her with him. “You shivered. Are you cold?”

“I'm fine.” She stroked his face. “Although you need to shower and hit the slopes, and I need to make a phone call to my father.”

He kissed her quickly. “Five minutes, and I'll be ready.”

She sat up and watched him walk into the bathroom naked. Proud and confident, he strutted and she couldn't help melting a little. She could spend every day of her life with him, and never get tired of looking at him. His body, trained for the sport of skiing, had not an ounce of extra fat.

When he hugged her, he was hard, tight, and secure. A boulder that remained steady and stable. His body matched his personality. He made her feel perfect, when she knew she had her faults.

She worried too much. She was uptight about schedules. She convinced everyone in her life that she was unemotional like her father, but Juan saw past her shields. And even though he'd witnessed her vulnerabilities, he accepted her. Even more, he respected her more for opening up to him.

He totally confused her.

Not once since they'd had sex had he brought up what would happen after they went to Germany. She'd reminded him several times that they'd better enjoy themselves while they could, because their time together was short. He always changed the subject, or took her to bed.

She sighed. His life was set on a different path than hers. He was Amante Español. She was Colton Reese's daughter.

Juan walked out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. He grinned. “Going in late?”

“No.” She climbed out of bed. “I just wanted to kiss you goodbye for the day, before I jumped in the shower.”

He tagged her waist and dragged her to his chest. His mouth came down, and she molded her body against his. He nudged her mouth open and she gasped, pushing against him.

“Juan.” She covered her mouth. “You can't kiss me now.”