Romance Me (Boxed Set) (55 page)

In scientific terms, it simply made sense.

Lady in public. Whore in the bedroom. She could do that, right?

Five minutes later, still standing in the same location, she thought, apparently not.

She leaned her forehead on the door and thumped it twice. The second time, not so gently.

What are you waiting for?

Max was gorgeous. Sexy. He cared about her. Plus, she'd sworn him to secrecy. Other than Lucy and Grace, who'd expect a full report, no one would know about this but the two of them. And if he couldn't bring out her inner slut, who could?

Rhys's name popped into her head.

Just like that, the image of her and Max morphed into her and Rhys. Of course, the picture didn't change all that much given they were twins, but her reaction to it did. It was as if it had been two-dimensional before but suddenly had turned real. She could feel the heat of Rhys's bare skin, see the sweat dotting his forehead, and hear his groans of pleasure as he moved against her. Inside her.

And lo and behold, she was even on top this time, normally not one of her favorite positions.

Closing her eyes, she valiantly ignored the sudden wetness between her legs.

Yep. How twisted was that? They looked identical, but only one of them got her hot. And it was the one who didn't even care enough about her to call.

Max cared, she reminded herself. And they were good enough friends that they could do this. She'd just look upon it as an experiment. Two days of trial runs and data analysis. Then Max would get back on a plane to Vegas or wherever his next show was, and the next time they saw each other, she'd be happy and in love with Jamie. Maybe she'd even be pregnant if the next Dalton Twins’ Magic Show tour went on for a while.

The image of her holding a baby cinched it. She stuck the card in the slot, waited for the green light, and pushed the door open.

***

In the lobby bar, Rhys watched Max check his watch for about the tenth time. His brother was acting weird, no two ways about it. Leaning back in his chair, he raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Spill it.”

“Huh?”

“What's going on? You've been acting like a nervous Nellie since I got here. What did Melina say that you couldn't tell me on the phone?”

Max's brow quirked. “Nervous Nellie?”

“You know what I mean, butthead. Now what the hell's going on?”

“Butthead? Your skill with words is mind-boggling.” At Rhys's low growl, Max held up his hands. “All right already. Will you just ease up? I already told you it wasn't an emergency.”

Rhys barely refrained from grabbing his brother by the throat. “Your exact message was: 'Something weird is going on with Melina. Get your ass on a plane right now.' You refused to answer any of my calls, so that's exactly what I did.”

“Would you have gotten on the plane if I'd said I needed your advice about something?”

Rhys slammed his palms on the table. “Damn it, Max, I don't have time for this. You have ten seconds to start talking or I'm driving back to the airport.”

“It's her birthday.”

Stunned, Rhys stared at him for several seconds before answering. “Yeah, I know. That's why I told you to tell her happy birthday.” It was also why he'd thrown her present in his suitcase during his frantic rush to get a flight. Just in case.

Max lifted his drink—water instead of his usual beer—and took a healthy swallow. Rhys narrowed his eyes. What was going on here?

“All that stuff you said about her wanting the white picket fence and two-point-two kids? That stuff doesn't matter,” Max said softly. “You're hurting her.”

The accusation caught him off guard, but he couldn't deny it either. He looked away.

“She's not an idiot, Rhys. She recognizes that you've pulled away. That you don't call. You don't visit. Hell, she's certain you forgot about her birthday. And why wouldn't she? You two barely say anything to each other anymore.”

Rhys gritted his teeth. “She works with her bugs. Visits her parents once a month. Dates safe, nice guys. What else is there to know?”

“How about what that so-called ex-boyfriend of hers did to her?”

Rhys sat straight up. Was that what Max's call had been about? What had been the loser's name? Bradley? Brian? Yeah, Brian. Had he hurt her? Hit her? A slow but intense wash of anger began to pump in his veins. “What?”

Max shook his head in disgust. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Rhys stood, braced his hands on the table, and got nose to nose with his brother. “I'm not forgetting anything. Tell me. Did he hurt her?”

Max leaned back and spread out his hands in a welcoming gesture. “And what if he did? What are you going to do about it? Scare him to death so he pisses his pants like Scott Thompson did?”

“I'll kill him,” Rhys spit out from between his teeth.

Max stared at him, then grinned. “I believe you would.”

“What are you grinning at? I'd think you'd be right in line with me.”

“I know I would. I'm just surprised you said it out loud. Where Melina is concerned, you're prone to changing the subject.”

Straightening, Rhys raked his hands through his hair. “Since when has there been any question that I care about Melina? She's one of the sweetest…” Sexiest. Hottest. Most intriguing. “…women I know, and we've known her for years. Hell, Mom and Dad would get in line to beat the guy up, too.”

“Then why? If you care so much about her, why don't you finally lay it on the table?”

Rhys shook his finger. “Oh no. We're not having that conversation again. Stop playing games, Max. I just want to know if Melina's okay and whether I'm going to have to kill anyone tonight.”

Max shrugged. “She's okay. Her boyfriend bruised her pride, that's all. She's more hurt by your callous actions than anything else. I know you didn't want to come here, but I'm not apologizing. You can damn well say happy birthday to her face.”

Rhys practically fell into his chair. He wanted to rail at his brother for his deceptive tactics, but his own guilt weighed on him heavily. He hadn't thought that his pulling away would hurt Melina that much. Then again, he hadn't thought beyond wanting to stop his pain. But Max was right. Melina was his friend. It wasn't her fault he wanted her to be more. “First thing in the morning, I promise.”

“Good. You still going to fly to Reno?”

“Right after I see her.”

“We don't have to be in Reno for another few days. You're obsessing—”

“The last time we worked the Magic Underground, the backstage crew was a disaster. And you weren't the one caught trying to do an Omni Deck in front of five hundred people only to flounder when it didn't happen. I'm not going to let something like that happen when the Seven Seas contract is at stake.”

His brother reached out and placed his hand on Rhys's arm. “You've always been the brains behind our success, Rhys. I know that, and so do Mom and Dad. No one can take that success away from us, even if we don't end up getting Seven Seas.”

A little stunned by Max's admission, Rhys said, “We'll get the contract so long as everything goes as planned.”

Max gave a curt nod, then stood. Rhys looked at him in surprise. “Where are you headed?”

“There's a blonde at the bar who's eyeballing us. Unless you've changed your prudish ways and want to join us—”

Rhys didn't even bother looking at the woman. “Go ahead. I'm going to turn in. I'm beat.”

“Yeah. You really should turn in.” Max turned, paused, then turned back. “It's been a hell of a decade on the road, don't you think?”

“It's been fun. The best.”

Max nodded, then grinned. “Get all the rest you can, you hear? I'll see you not-so-bright-and-early Monday morning at the Magic Underground.”

Rhys watched his brother approach the blonde, who looked at Rhys and waved. Rhys smiled and waved back, his public persona firmly in place, but he swiftly turned away.

He dismissed the idea of having another beer. He hadn't been exaggerating when he said he was tired. He'd had to catch two layovers to fly from Kentucky to Sacramento. Of course, being that it was last-minute, the flight had cost a small fortune. In the end, it hadn't mattered.

Even before Max had called, Rhys had been getting ready to book a flight. Max's call had just added some panic to the long trip. He couldn't let Melina think he'd forgotten her birthday. As much as it would solidify the distance he'd been gradually establishing between them, he couldn't hurt her that way. Instinctively, he knew it would be a hurt he couldn't repair, and the thought of making that final break had been terrifying.

As had been his sudden, inexplicable certainty that she needed him.

Maybe it was some kind of twin telepathy or something.

Melina had clearly confided her relationship troubles to Max and sworn him to secrecy. The idea of either Melina or Max keeping secrets from him was unsettling but not surprising. Why would she confide in him when he'd been doing his best to push her way?

More disturbing was the idea that her ex had hurt her.

Possessiveness swamped him, but he easily pushed it down. He'd had so much practice at it, after all. Melina wasn't his, but she was still someone extremely special to him. If someone had hurt her, even if it was just her pride, he'd pay for it. Rhys would make sure of that.

“Excuse me?”

Rhys glanced up at the soft, feminine voice. It was the blonde from the bar. Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder but saw no sign of Max.

“Your brother was telling me about your act. He's going to get his car. I was wondering if you'd mind company. My friend Jocelyn over there,” she pointed to a rail-thin brunette who was sitting at the bar and watching them, “is a doll, and I'd feel horrible abandoning her.”

But she'd still do it, Rhys thought, trying not to judge his brother's taste in women. He'd made plenty of bad decisions in his life, so he had no business judging anyone. Shaking his head, he began to rise. “I'm sorry, but I was just about to—”

“Hi.” The brunette strode up to his table and held out her hand. “I am so thrilled to meet you. I absolutely love your magic act. Would you mind if I join you?”

Sighing, Rhys sat back in his chair and watched as the blonde backed away, waved, and bee-lined for the exit, presumably to meet his brother. He focused on the brunette. She was decked out, fit, and had a charming smile, but he just wanted to go up to bed. Alone. The last thing he wanted was to talk about magic right now. But he didn't want to be rude to a fan either. “So where did you see the act?” he asked, catching the eye of the waiter and indicating he wanted another beer.

***

As Melina entered the hotel room, she half-expected Max to have done it up. Candles. Flowers. Something. But it was in its normal state, the linens straightened and the towels in the bathroom folded neatly, indicating that housekeeping had come and gone. Melina let out a sigh of relief.

Max was sticking to the plan, making this weekend exactly what she wanted, a straightforward tutoring session rather than something resembling a romantic rendezvous or false seduction. When a woman asked you to teach her how to please a man, very little seduction was necessary, after all. Pretending otherwise would have made her feel even more self-conscious.

Setting her single bag on the bed, she noted that Max had traveled pretty light himself. A suitcase in the corner, along with the familiar-looking magic case that held his cards and smaller close-up tricks. An evil urge to open the case and rifle through it took hold of her, but of course she couldn't do it. A magician's bag of tricks was his sacred possession. Neither Max nor Rhys had ever broken the magician's code by telling her how a trick was performed.

Of course, she'd done her own research on the Internet, but had never told them that. They would have been appalled. Growing up with professional magicians as parents had made Max and Rhys not just passionate about the craft, but mystical in many ways. They talked as if they actually believed it was possible to make a card appear from thin air. And they wanted her to have such belief as well.

Lucky for her, her scientific mind couldn't subscribe to such fodder. It was always better to deal with concretes. That way, you could calculate the risks and predict the outcome. Even then, the world was a scary place. Add something like magic to the equation? No, thanks.

It didn't take her very long to unpack, and soon she found herself sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to stop herself from bolting.

Chewing on one nail, she glanced at the hotel clock. 7:30 p.m. Max had told her he would be back to the hotel room close to 8:30 p.m. and to get comfortable and wait for him.

“And by comfortable, I don't mean sweats and a ratty T-shirt, Melina. Bring something sexy to wear,” he'd ordered. “Wear your hair down. And ditch the glasses.”

“But I can't see well without my glasses,” she'd protested. “I mean, I won't run into walls, but I'll miss the finer details.”

Something like satisfaction sparked in his eyes, but then his expression went blank. “Don't you have contacts?”