Renegade Millionaire (4 page)

“I don't have one in the car.”

Their arms brushed and Rio nearly bumped his head when he straightened. “You should always carry a flashlight. I keep one in the truck.”

“I suppose you're always prepared.”

He grinned. “Always. With everything.” Except he hadn't been prepared for her, especially not his immediate reaction when she stood so close, or his need to kiss her once more. But he wouldn't. Not now.

Glancing over his shoulder at the apartment building, he asked, “Which one is yours?”

“Second floor. Apartment 202.”

He braced his hands on the edge of the engine and leaned into them. “Tell you what. You go on up and make some coffee and I'll see if I can tell what's wrong here.”

“You really don't have to do that. Besides, I don't have the money to pay you.”

He straightened. “You can pay me with some coffee.”

“But—”

“No argument. And hurry. I might fall asleep on my feet if I don't get some caffeine soon.”

“Okay. I'll bring it down.”

“I'll come up and get it.”

She looked more than a little worried. “Are you sure?”

“Unless you want me to come up now and check out the place, make sure there aren't any more criminal types waiting for you.” Considering the surroundings, Rio realized that might be a real possibility, and he hated the fact that she had to come to this place every night alone.

She started toward the entrance without giving him a second glance. “I'll be fine until you get there.”

As Rio watched her walk away, the slight sway of her hips encased in nice-fitting jeans, he realized she was more than fine. And he was in major trouble.

 

When Joanna heard the knock on the door, she wasn't at all fine. In fact she was nervous over Rio Madrid's arrival. She fumbled with the spoon in her hand, then dropped it into the cup before she made a total mess of her stained and cracked kitchen counter.

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door but left the chain intact until she peeked outside. After verifying it was the doctor, she slipped the chain and allowed him entry.

She felt uneasy, self-conscious, when he surveyed the efficiency apartment that consisted of only a small kitchen and dining/living room area that also served as her bedroom. The lone bathroom with its rusty pipes and chipped tile could barely qualify as closet-size although her clothes hung on the shower-curtain rail, the only place available.

“It's not much,” she said after tolerating the silence for a few more moments.

“I've seen worse.” His gaze traveled toward the water-stained ceiling while he noted the sound of an over-loud stereo shaking the walls from excessive bass.

“My neighbors like to party,” Joanna said.

“Sounds that way.” He turned his attention back to her. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost two months.” Two months too long.

His took a slow visual excursion down her body. “And you're still in one piece?”

“So far.” She could very well come apart at the seams if he didn't stop looking at her that way.

He slipped his hands into his back pockets. “I think I found the problem with your car. There's a loose wire leading to the starter. I'm pretty sure I fixed it.”

“That's wonderful news.” The man was too amazing for his own good. “Have you always worked on cars?”

“I'm good with my hands.”

She had no doubt about that. “I'm glad it's minor. I wasn't sure how I was going to pay for major repairs.”

“Don't get your hopes up yet. I still need to make sure I've found the problem. If you'll give me your keys, I'll see if the car starts.” He wrapped one hand around his nape and rolled his head on his shoulders. He looked exhausted.

Joanna felt incredibly selfish. “Why don't we have some coffee first? We can check it when you leave.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She stepped back in the kitchen and took the pan from the stove to pour water into each cup. “I hope instant's okay. It's all I have.”

“Do you have a phone?”

She nodded over one shoulder. “Right there on the wall. Help yourself.”

He moved into the small space beside her, bringing with him the scent of night air and incense. Turning on the faucet in the kitchen sink, he began washing the grease away from his hands. “I don't want to make a
call. I want to make sure you have some way to communicate in case you have trouble.”

“Yes, I do, and it works.” For now. She was in danger of losing the service if she didn't pay her long-distance bills in a timelier manner. But she wouldn't give up her only means of communication with her child, even if it meant keeping the heat turned off.

While she stirred the coffee, he continued to watch her as he dried his hands on a dish towel. His presence made her wary. As much as she hated to admit it, Joanna was very drawn to Rio Madrid—his heady aura, his dark exotic good looks—though that seemed unwise. But he wasn't the kind of man a woman could easily ignore—even a woman who had no intention of getting involved with anyone.

After he tossed the towel onto the counter, she handed him one steaming mug. “Do you want anything in it?”

“Just more coffee. I like it strong.”

“Oh.” Joanna couldn't manage anything else when he reached around her to add another spoonful of grounds to the cup, his chest brushing against her shoulder. That simple contact had her knees threatening to dissolve like the three spoonfuls of sugar she'd heaped into her own coffee.

He leaned back against the cabinet. “Are you feeling calmer now after your encounter?”

For a moment she wasn't sure which encounter he spoke of, the pleasant one a moment before or the disgusting bus-stop experience. She sipped her coffee, yet tasted nothing. She needed more sugar, less Rio to distract her. “I'm calmer, but I'm also feeling a little stupid. I should have walked back to the hospital when I first noticed the big one.”

“They probably would've followed you.”

“Could be. Never trust a man with a tattoo.”

He frowned, then his mouth turned up into a world-rocking grin. “Oh, yeah?”

Setting his cup on the cabinet, he faced her and tugged the hem of his shirt from his waistband. Before Joanna could respond, he slipped the shirt over his head, taking the band securing his hair with it. And there he stood, bare-chested and gorgeous, his hair flowing to his shoulders like an ebony waterfall.

Before Joanna could ask just what he thought he was doing, her eyes centered on his chest. Lean muscle defined his torso; a triangular tuft of dark hair covered the space between his nipples. Although she knew better, she couldn't stop her gaze from tracking the path leading to the band on his low-riding jeans that he had managed to unsnap without her noticing. Slowly he lowered his zipper partway, leaving her speechless, excited, unable to move. Then the tattoo came into view.

Below his navel, a black jungle cat horizontally spanned the tight plane of his abdomen, interrupting the trail of masculine hair leading downward. Joanna's mouth dropped open but she snapped it shut to muffle her sharp, indrawn breath. The tattoo looked powerful, provocative, impressive.

When Joanna finally looked up, she found his smile absent and his expression disarming. “Does this make me untrustworthy?” he asked in a low, spellbinding voice.

Her gaze traveled back to the tattoo and she took in the details, while the awareness that he was watching her sent electricity racing along her nerve endings. As far as Joanna was concerned, this particular artwork made him that much more sensual, seductive, mysterious. She had the overwhelming urge to touch it, to see
if it was as silky as it looked. She was as drawn to that tattoo as she had been to its owner on New Year's Eve—as she was tonight. Without regard for common sense, she breezed a fingertip across the cat—only to be stopped by the doctor's grip on her wrist.

He released a slow, strained breath. “Normally I might say, ‘Feel free to keep touching,' but I'm not sure that's a good idea. Not unless you realize you're stirring up trouble.”

Joanna's eyes moved to the obvious bulge below the waistband of his jeans, which were faded to a bleached-out blue in some hard-to-ignore places. Her face flamed from mortification, from totally forgetting herself, forgetting whom she was with, what she was doing. Again.

She dropped her hand to her side but couldn't bring herself to contact his powerful golden gaze. “I'm sorry. It's just that…I don't know. It looks so soft.”

“Take my word for it, it's not.” His tone was wry, his voice grainy, deep and deadly.

She raised her eyes to his, finding them as enticing as they had been after he'd kissed her that night in the ballroom. Grasping for an innocuous question, she asked, “Is it a panther?”

He looked down at the tattoo. Joanna couldn't seem to stop herself from looking, too. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he ran one sturdy, square finger along the jungle cat's back, much the same as she had, causing Joanna to shiver. “It's a jaguar. My onen, or so my mother told me.”

“Your what?”

He redid his jeans, slipped the shirt over his head and secured his hair back in the band, much to Joanna's disappointment. “Onen. My animal, or the animal assigned
to me at birth. My mother was of Mayan descent. She believed in the folklore.”

“So you're Mayan?”

“That and a few other things. Spanish royalty, reportedly a white missionary a couple of generations back. My family has a strong history of forbidden love.”

“Forbidden” pretty much summed up Joanna's reaction to this man. An enigmatic, unpredictable man who held her imagination captive, kept her fantasies churning and her pulse erratic. “Where's your mother now?” she asked, searching for something that might take her mind off his unmistakable aura, his blatant sensuality.

A fleeting sadness passed over his expression. “She died a few years ago. She was a good woman, a little misguided in her beliefs, but she was charitable to people in need.”

“Like her son?”

His smile crooked the corner of his lips, a decidedly cynical smile. “Don't peg me wrong, Joanna. I enjoy my success and all that it brings.”

“But you helped the Gonzaleses, knowing they didn't have any insurance and not much money.”

“I do that on occasion, but I still have paying patients. I'm not opposed to making money.”

Exactly something Joanna's ex would have said, only he had been inclined to involve himself in get-rich-quick ploys, not honest work.

The conversation lulled as Rio Madrid continued to scrutinize her with penetrating eyes near the color of a harvest moon, as if he had some need to interpret her feelings, uncover her very soul.

Joanna struggled to come up with more small talk, but she had trouble assembling her thoughts with his steady
gaze now on her mouth. At least he hadn't mentioned that night…

“About the other night,” he said, as if he'd read her mind.

“The other night?” she repeated, as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yeah, New Year's night. I find it hard to believe you don't remember, because I haven't been able to forget,
querida.
”

She shrugged, trying to affect nonchalance even though both her body and soul reeled in reaction to his declaration and endearment. “I thought maybe you didn't recognize me.” She was secretly thrilled that he had.

“I didn't at first, until you smiled.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “You have a great smile. A great mouth.”

Joanna couldn't ignore the tingles produced by his touch or her heart's incessant pounding. “Do you always kiss females you don't know?” she asked, her voice coming out too high.

He moved his palm to cup her cheek the same way he had that night. “Not normally, but you looked like you could've used a little company.”

She could use some strength at the moment, a lot of strength, in order to resist his lure. “I'm used to being alone. Not that I didn't appreciate the gesture.”

He stroked his thumb back and forth along her jaw, her chin, grazing the corner of her lip with each pass. “Is that all you felt? Gratitude?”

She couldn't begin to describe what she'd felt when he'd kissed her, what she was feeling now with him so close, his hand on her face, his eyes focused on her mouth, her will caught firmly in his grasp.

Then he lowered his head, slowly, slowly, and softly kissed her, no more than a tease, a taunt, but it left Joanna wanting as she'd never wanted before…

The shrill of a siren interrupted the moment. Joanna pulled away from him and walked to the window to survey the scene, as much to catch her breath as out of concern for the familiar activity downstairs. Three patrol cars pulled up at the curb near the front of the building and several armed officers dashed toward the entrance. Nothing she hadn't seen before.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. “You're not safe here, Joanna.”

She hugged her arms to her chest. “I don't have a choice.”

Rio took her arm and turned her to face him. His sultry expression had been replaced by one of unease. “Yes, you do have a choice.”

“I promise I don't. I've looked all over the city for another place to live and I can't find anything I can afford.”

“Maybe you haven't looked in the right place.”

“What do you mean?”

He dropped his hands and took a step back. “This might sound crazy, but you can live with me.”

Crazy? Of all the absurd suggestions, this one had to top the list. “I don't think so, Dr. Madrid.”

“It's Rio, and let me clarify what I mean. I have an older restored house in a well-established neighborhood. There's a nice room in the third-floor attic. It's pretty big, and comfortable, with a private bath. The lady I bought the house from kept it as her reading room. You'd be comfortable there. And safe.”