The Millionaire's Cinderella: Renegade Millionaire / Billionaire Bachelors: Gray / Her Convenient Millionaire
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 mistakes 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.