Romance Me (Boxed Set) (70 page)

“Yeah, but like I said, the chances of modifying the apparatus by then are slim.”

“What if you don't have to modify it? Can you just train someone who's the right size?”

“I suppose, but who am I going to find now?” He shook his head. “Like I said, we'll figure it—”

“I'm five-four.”

He released her hand. “Huh?”

“I said, I'm five-four. I can…I can stand in for your assistant if that would help. I'm sure I'm heavier than her, though. And I'm absolutely not a performer, but...”

She trailed off. He didn't say anything. He didn't move. He just stared at her, his expression stunned. She could feel herself turning red with embarrassment. “You know, it was a stupid idea—”

“You'd do that for me?” he asked. “Get up in front of a theater of strangers and let me tie you up?”

“Well, I'd rather not think of the strangers right now—”

“What about work? You said you had to get back, and to have a shot of pulling it off, I'd need you right away so we could rehearse.”

“When would you need me by?”

“Tonight. Tomorrow at the latest.”

“So you can drive me home, I'll pack, call into work in the morning, and fly out tomorrow.”

“Why would you do that?”

She moved toward him, not stopping until she was close enough to take his hands and kiss them. “How can you ask me that? I know how much this contract means to you. If I can do anything to help you get it, I will.” She dropped her hands and stepped back. “I feel a little silly, though. I mean, me on stage? If you want to say thank you and forget it, I understand.”

He took her hands again. “Thank you,” he said. “And I think—”

He paused, and she held her breath, waiting for him to reject her.

“I think you'll be perfect on stage.”

All she felt was relief. And joy. “Really?”

“Yes.”

She jumped up and down in her excitement, her insecurity momentarily forgotten. “Okay, then let's do it.”

She broke away from him and rushed to her bedroom to get her suitcase. He turned to get his own stuff, stopping when she called out, “Oh, and Rhys?”

“Yeah?”

“I just want to make something perfectly clear.”

Wariness crossed his face. “What?”

“I'm absolutely not doing anything topless.”

His mouth quirked. “You sure? Because, man, with your body, we would definitely draw in some—”

“Rhys…” she drawled warningly.

“Okay, sure. No going topless. But that only applies on stage, right?”

“You have somewhere else in mind?”

“Oh, I've definitely got several places in mind.”

Her eyes rounded. “As long as we don't have an audience, I think we can make things work.”

“That's fine with me. I do my best work one-on-one, anyway.”

Chapter Twelve

Dalton's Magic Rule #13: Draw out the tension until the big finish.

“Let me get this straight,” Lucy insisted. “He actually got you to do a sixty-nine, and you liked it?”

Melina tossed another shirt into her suitcase before she turned back to her friend. “Yes, Lucy, he did. Y-E-S. And, yes, I did. The answers are the same no matter how many times you ask the questions. Now, can we please talk about more pressing matters? Like how I'm going to get on stage without puking and single-handedly ruining Rhys's shot at this contract?”

From her spot on the bed, Grace fanned herself with both hands. “I don't know, darlin'. After what you described, how can you think of anything other than when you can jump him next?”

“On the other hand,” Lucy interjected, “think about how grateful he's going to be after you help him land that cruise gig. My God, the man will probably do anything you ask him to. A-ny-thing.”

Melina shook her head. “Will you two stop? You should have seen his face when I said I'd help him. He wants that contract—he needs it—and he's relying on me. What if I can't do it? What if I let him down?”

“What if unicorns and flying dragons really do exist?” Lucy shot back. “Why are you focusing on the show and the contract Rhys may or may not get? You had mind-blowing, head-banging sex with your fantasy guy, and he's obviously in love with you.”

Melina sat down on the bed next to Grace, only to fall backward and stare at the ceiling. “Believe me, the sex isn't far from my mind. But where do you get he's in love with me?”

“He asked you to go to Reno with him before Max called,” Grace pointed out.

Biting her lip, she sat up. “You really think he's in love with me?”

“Yes,” Lucy said.

“Definitely,” agreed Grace.

“Then why wouldn't he just say so?” Melina asked softly.

“Why haven't you told him that you love him?” Lucy countered.

Wide-eyed, Melina stared at her. “Because I'm afraid.”

“Of what? He's not going to reject you. The guy bought you a rocking bikini in France, for God's sake!”

“I'm afraid he'll walk away anyway,” she insisted.

Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but it was Grace who countered, “No, you're not, Melina. You're afraid he'll walk away and ask you to come with him. And you're not sure you love him enough to do it.”

Melina and Lucy stared at her. Lucy turned to Melina. “Is that true?”

“No. I mean…” Melina closed her eyes and forced herself to look deep within herself for the answer. She opened her eyes and glared at Grace. “God, I hate it when you do that.”

Lucy dropped onto the bed beside her. “I'm confused.”

“Well, so am I,” Melina snapped. Standing, she paced the small area between her bed and her dresser. “Grace is right. When we're together, I can't imagine being without him. But when we're apart, I can't imagine fitting into his world. I'm not even sure I want to. Sure, it sounds exciting, but I'm a homebody at heart. I'd like to travel more, but only if I have a home to come back to. Someplace to raise my children and make memories. I know now that Rhys wants some version of that, too, but I just can't see myself on the road or on the sea, hanging out in the shadows and waiting for him to finish one performance after another.”

“So all this time, it hasn't been about whether you could satisfy him or whether he could love you,” Lucy said. “You're saying that even if those things are golden, you're still not sure it'll work out?”

“Those things were definitely real fears, but even without them, yes. I guess I am saying that.”

For the first time Melina could remember, Lucy didn't seem to know what to say.

That was so not okay.

“So what do I do?” Melina cried.

Grace knelt in front of her and took her hands in hers. “You're already doing it, sweetie. You're leaving your world and venturing into his. No speculating about what it's like anymore. No wondering whether you'll like it. One way or another, you're going to find out the answer to that pop quiz. Being with him would require you to change your whole life. If you decide you don't want to do that, then he's not the guy for you. So what? Maybe Jamie is.”

“Please.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “She just got through saying she wasn't settling for passionless sex again. Professor Jamie Whitcomb isn't the type to inspire passion in any woman. He's too damn arrogant and uptight for his own good.”

Melina studied her friend, forgetting her own troubles for a second. “Where's all this hostility coming from? I thought you barely knew Jamie.”

“Oh, I know him all right.”

When she didn't elaborate, Melina turned to Grace.

“Turns out the dean wants Lucy's department represented at the conference tomorrow, as well,” Grace explained. “Since Jamie's coordinating it...”

Melina gasped. Holy shit. The conference. She gripped Grace's hands. “The conference. I'm supposed to speak with Jamie. He's depending on me.”

Lucy waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like anyone'll miss you.” She didn't miss Melina's glare. “You know what I mean. You've got a PowerPoint presentation set up, right? Either Jamie can pick up the slack or someone else can.”

“You,” Melina said at the same time she thought it.

Looking at her like she was crazy, Lucy laughed and held out her hand. “Excuse me? I don't think so. I have to attend the conference—against my will, I might add—in order to network at the reception. But I wasn't planning on attending any of the presentations beforehand.”

“You can do my presentation with your hands tied behind your back. You're a quick study, and you have no problem speaking in public.”

“I'm not an entomologist,” Lucy exclaimed, beginning to look a little panicked. “I don't know a thing about bugs.”

Melina rushed to her desk in the living room and returned to the bedroom with a folder, neatly organized and tabbed. “You don't have to. Like you said, everything's set up. You just have to read my notes. Please, Lucy?”

“I-I…” Looking like a hunted rabbit, Lucy turned to Grace.

“I'm out of town that day,” Grace said quickly.

“Please, Lucy. He's not my soul mate, but I like Jamie and respect him. I can't just ditch him. This conference is a huge deal and, as the organizer, he's going to be swamped. Do this for me, and I'll owe you, I promise.”

“You'll owe me, huh?” Lucy said, still looking like she'd rather eat dirt.

Melina just nodded and held out the folder.

With a sigh, Lucy took it. “Fine. I'll keep you in Jamie's good graces just in case you decide you don't want Rhys as much as you thought.”

“It's not Rhys I'm unsure about,” Melina insisted. “Not anymore.”

“Honey, it's all part of the package, right? You can't have Rhys without all the rest.”

After her friends left, Melina thought about what Lucy had said. She thought about it as she finished packing. She thought about it when she boarded the plane the next morning. And she thought about it as she walked outside to meet Rhys.

When she saw Rhys, she dropped her luggage and ran into his arms, almost crying with relief when his arms wrapped around her and pulled her in close. She lifted her face to kiss him just as his mouth covered hers. His tongue sank into her mouth, stealing her breath and her sanity until she finally pulled away.

She opened her mouth and tried to say it:
I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If that means going on the road or living out of a suitcase for the rest of my life, I'll do it.
Instead, she just kissed him again.

“You ready to get to work?” he asked with a grin.

She forced a smile. “You tie me up. You work your magic. I just need to smile and look pretty, right? How hard can it be?”

***

Jillian knocked on the dressing room door even louder this time. “Aren't you ready yet?”

Melina stared at herself in the full-length mirror, cringing at what she saw. The sparkly outfit that Jillian was trying to alter to fit her form was her exact size, only Rhys's runaway assistant had obviously had more to love on top than she did. Instead of enhancing her minimal curves, the droopy neckline made her look flatter than an ironing board, and the minuscule skirt made her thighs look like tree trunks.

“I told you, it doesn't fit,” Melina called out again, wondering if the woman was hard of hearing.

“Of course it doesn't,” Jillian called, her voice clearly reflecting her impatience. “I'm not done with it yet. Now come out here so you can get back to practice.”

Melina groaned. Practice. Right.

She and Rhys had been practicing ever since they'd arrived from the airport. Not that he was a slave driver. He'd given her plenty of breaks, for food and for nookie, but as soon as they started practicing again, it was all business. Her body ached from having to stretch out and hang for so long from the Metamorphosis apparatus, and she was jittery because of the way Rhys repeatedly ran his hands up and down her body.

“Usually I don't think anything of doing this,” he'd said. “It's all just in a day's work.” Before she could snort and call him a liar, he kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, “Doing it to you reminds me of something.”

She'd swallowed and breathed out, “What's that?”

“I owe you for torturing me when I was tied up. When you're spread out in front me and unable to do anything but beg for me to take you, remember that.”

Closing her eyes, she licked her lips. “I'm doing you a favor here. I don't think threats are appropriate at this point. Besides, I thought you liked what we did.”

He'd just chuckled and backed off, releasing her to wardrobe.

Knowing she couldn't put it off any longer, she opened the door and peeked out. Jillian whirled around and waved her closer. “Come on out so I can see what I'm working with.”

Reluctantly, Melina stepped into view.

Instead of laughing her ass off, as Melina had expected, Jillian nodded. “Good. That's good.”

“Good?” Melina echoed in astonishment. “I look like a pear shoved into a seventies-era tube top.”