the job done, especially in Spain. Something to do with the atmospheric pressure coming down from the U.K. I still remember the swells tubing.” He curled his fingers around into the cresting circle of a wave.
“You’re a surfer?” She tried to merge the image of the sleek business shark with the vision of him carefree on a board. And instead an image emerged of his abandon when making love. Her breasts tingled and tightened, awash in the sensation of sea spray and Tony all over her skin.
“I’ve always been fascinated with waves.”
“Even when you were in San Rinaldo.” The picture of him began to make more sense. “It’s an island country, right?”
She’d always thought the nautical art on his walls was tied into his shipping empire. Now she realized the affinity for such pieces came from living on an island. So much about him made sense.
His surfing hand soared to rest on the gold flecked globe beside the sofa. Was it her imagination or was the gloss dimmer over the coast of Spain? As if he’d rubbed his finger along that area more often, taking away the sheen over time.
He spun the globe. “I thought you didn’t know much about the Medinas.”
“I researched you on Google on my phone while we were driving over.” Concrete info had been sparse compared to all the crazy gossip floating about, but there were some basics. Three sons. A monarch father. A mother who’d been killed as they were escaping. Her heart squeezed thinking of him losing a parent so young, not much older than Kolby.
She pulled a faltering smile. “There weren’t any surfer pictures among the few images that popped up.”
Only a couple of grainy formal family portraits of three young boys with their parents, everyone happy. Some earlier photos of King Enrique looking infinitely regal.
“We scrubbed most pictures after we escaped and regrouped.” His lighthearted smile contrasted with the darker hue deepening his eyes. “The internet wasn’t active in those days.”
The extent of his rebuilding shook her to her shoes. She’d thought she had it rough leaving Louisiana after her husband’s arrest and death. How tragic to have your past wiped away. The enormity of what had happened to his family, of how he’d lived since then, threatened to overwhelm her.
How could she not ache over all he’d been through? “I saw that your mother died when I read up on your past. I’m so sorry.”
He waved away her sympathy. “When we got to … where my father lives now, things were isolated. But at least we still had the ocean. Out on the waves, I could forget about everything else.”
Plowing a hand through his hair, he stared just past her, obviously locked in some deep memories. She sensed she was close, so close to the something she needed to reassure her that placing herself and her son in his care would be wise, even if there weren’t gossip seekers sifting through her trash.
She rested her hand on his arm. “What are you thinking?”
“I thought you might like to learn next spring. Unless you’re already a pro.”
“Not hardly.” Spring was a long way off, a huge commitment she wasn’t anywhere near ready to make to anyone. The thought of climbing on a wave made her stomach knot almost as much as being together that long. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
“Scared?” He skimmed his knuckles over her collarbone, and just that fast the sea-spray feel tingled through her again.
“Hell, yes. Scared of getting hurt.”
His hand stilled just above her thumping heart. Want crackled in the air. Hers? Or his? She wasn’t sure. Probably equal measures from both of them. That had never been in question. And too easily he could draw her in again. Learning more about him wasn’t wise after all, not tonight.
She pulled away, her arms jerky, her whole body out of whack. She needed Tony’s lightness now. Forget about serious peeks into each other’s vulnerable pasts. “No surfing for me. Ever try taking care of a toddler with a broken leg?”
“When did you break your leg?” His eyes narrowed. “Did he hurt you? Your husband?”
How had Tony made that leap so quickly?
“Nolan was a crook and a jerk, but he never raised a hand to me.” She shivered, not liking the new direction their conversation had taken at all. This was supposed to teach her more about him. Not the other way around. “Do we have to drag more baggage into this?”
“If it’s true.”
“I told you. He didn’t abuse me.” Not physically. “Having a criminal for a husband is no picnic. Knowing I missed the signs … Wondering if I let myself be blind to it because I enjoyed the lifestyle … I don’t even know where to start in answering those questions for myself.”
She slumped, suddenly exhausted, any residual adrenaline fizzling out. Her head fell back.
“Knowing you as I do, I find it difficult to believe you would ever choose the easy path.” Tony thumbed just below her eyes where undoubtedly dark circles were all but tattooed on her face. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest. If you want, I’ll tuck you in,” he said with a playful wink.
She found the old Tony much easier to deal with than the new. “You’re teasing, of course.”
“Maybe …” And just that fast the light in his eyes flamed hotter, intense. “Shanny, I would hold you all night if you would let me. I would make sure no one dared threaten you or your son again.”
And she wanted to let him do just that. But she’d allowed herself to depend on a man before … “If you hold me, we both know I won’t get any rest, and while I’ll have pleasure tonight, I’ll be sorry tomorrow. Don’t you think we have enough wrong between us right now without adding another regret to the mix?”
“Okay….” Tony gave her shoulder a final squeeze and stood. “I’ll back off.”
Shannon pushed to her feet alongside him, her hands fisted at her sides to keep from reaching for him. “I’m still mad over being kept in the dark, but I appreciate all the damage control.”
“I owe you that much and more.” He kissed her lightly on the lips without touching her anywhere else, lingering long enough to remind her of the reasons they clicked. Her breath hitched and it was all she could do not to haul him in closer for a firmer, deeper connection.
Pulling back, he started toward the door.
“Tony?” Was that husky voice really hers?
He glanced over his shoulder. So easily she could take the physical comfort waiting only a few feet away in his arms. But she had to keep her head clear. She had to hold strong to carve out an independent life for her and her son and that meant drawing clear boundaries.
“Just because I might be able to forgive you doesn’t mean you’re welcome in my bed again.”
She wasn’t in her own bed.
Shannon wrestled with the tenacious grip of her shadowy nightmare, tough as hell to do when she couldn’t figure out where she was. The ticking grandfather clock, the feel of the silky blanket around her, none of it was familiar. And then a hint of sandalwood scent teased her nose a second before…
“Hey.” Tony’s voice rumbled through the dark. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Her heart jumped. She bolted upright, the cashmere afghan twisting around her legs and waist. Blinking fast, she struggled to orient herself to the surroundings so different from her apartment, but the world blurred in front of her from the dark and her own crummy eyesight. Shannon pressed her hands to