Intimate Betrayal (9 page)

Maxwell shrugged. “I never knew my birth mother. My father met her when he was stationed in Japan.” He looked down at his handiwork and stirred. “I always felt that it was a part of me that was missing. I never even saw a picture of her.” He chuckled softly and continued as if speaking to himself. “I grew up with these fantasies about her, as if my thoughts could somehow make her real. My father never wanted to discuss her other than to say that she'd died shortly after my birth. I guess that's why I was so adamant about capturing and understanding that aspect of my heritage. I did my graduate work in Tokyo, learned the language, tried to assimilate into their society.” He sighed. “But it didn't work. I never felt that I fit in.”

The underlying pain in his voice touched her so deeply she could almost feel his loneliness. “But what about your stepmother?” she asked gently.

“She was there,” he commented in a monotone. “We never really had a relationship. I always sensed that she resented
me for some reason. And I could never understand why.” He hesitated before speaking again. “I tried to get to know her, be a good son, but nothing made much of a difference.”

“It's strange,” she began slowly, “but we have a lot in common. Even though you had parents, they were lost to you, just as my parents are lost to me.” She sighed, casting aside the melancholy. “Where are some of the places you've been?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.

“All over Japan.” He briskly stirred the contents in the wok, then turned off the jet. “Parts of Europe, Africa, South America, and the Philippines.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Is that the reason why it's so important for you to have a place to call home when you travel?”

He turned to look at her, curiosity and a deeper sense of awareness swam in his eyes. “That's part of it,” he answered softly and turned back to his work, spooning the food onto a platter. Maxwell took a deep breath and let out an inaudible sigh. He struggled to keep from smiling. Just talking to her like a person and expressing his feelings about something so personal to him, actually felt good. It didn't hurt like he thought it would. She seemed to be able to read him and gauge his feelings. Maybe it was the journalist in her. But a part of him knew better. Reese was a naturally caring and compassionate woman. He wanted to trust her. He wanted to let go and be all that he could be—and he wanted it with her.

He felt the air stir around him and knew before turning that she had descended from her perch and was approaching him. He waited until he was certain she stood directly behind him before he spun around and pulled her belly to belly against him.

A gasp of surprise burst from her startled lips. Maxwell's grin was slow and sensual. His eyes darkened and the sun
pouring into the kitchen bounced off of them making the orbs sparkle with mystery.

His voice started deep down in his chest. “You shouldn't sneak up on a person,” he taunted, as he lowered his head to brush his lips against her neck. “I'll have to teach you how to become—” he planted a trail of hot kisses along her neck “—one with your environment.” His fingers pressed into her supple flesh, searing her with his mark.

Breathless, she couldn't respond. Her eyes fluttered closed when the heat of his nearness entered her body, igniting her.

Maxwell let his tongue wander along the sensitive cord of her neck, suckling the muscle until Reese moaned and trembled with growing arousal. His hands slowly explored the curves of her body as his mind envisioned the lusciousness of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, the arch of her incredible legs as they would be, devoid of clothing—with her wearing no more than the mystical scent of her body oil.

Reese moaned, unabashed when the heat of his succulent mouth finally claimed hers. She felt her heart slam against her chest and the blood rush to her center when the pads of his thumbs stroked the undersides of her breasts. She swayed against him, needing him to be nearer, daring him to come closer.

“Reese,” he uttered milliseconds before his heat-seeking tongue delved into the depths of her mouth. His fingers splayed and he used them like combs to thread through her hair, loosening it to fan around her, the pins holding it in place spiraling to the floor. Maxwell eased her toward the island until her lush bottom grazed the edge. He lifted her until she sat and he stepped between her parted thighs, his steely erection throbbing against her feminine heat.

Her mind was spinning. She couldn't think and didn't want
to. It all felt too good. “Yesss,” she hissed between her teeth when his hands slid beneath her top to cup her bare breasts.

“Hmm, so sweet,” he whispered. “I'm going to taste you Reese,” he whispered, gently squeezing the firm mounds, his thumbs flicking across the dark almond nipples. He pushed the lemon-yellow top upward, inch by inch revealing the silken milk chocolate skin until her breasts jutted out to him, demanding to be taken.

A tremor of unimaginable pleasure shot through her when his hot tongue stroked one distended tip and then the other. In turn he laved, then sucked one sensitive breast and then the other, causing shudders of desire to ripple throughout her being—all the while, he murmured gentle words of loving—telling her how beautiful she was—how much he wanted her—what he wanted to do to her.

Reese was caught in a vortex of yearning. She felt weak and at the same time powerful, knowing that she was able to awaken such passion in this man who kept such a tight rein on his emotions. And she was humbled by that knowledge.

The wall came down, brick by brick. Reese was pulling them away, dismantling his impenetrable wall with each breath she took, each outcry of his name. He wanted to stop her before she discovered the direct pathway to his heart, but she was too close, her hold over him too secure. He could not have detered her path if he'd tried. And deep inside he realized he didn't have the strength to withstand her entry into his soul.

“Not here,” he rasped gathering her trembling body close to him, willing her to become a part of him, drawing on his last bit of self-control. “Not like this.” He stared into her glowing eyes—eyes that held so many unspoken questions.

He lifted her, letting her body slide down the length of his. “I know the perfect place,” he whispered against her mouth, taking one last kiss. He took her hand, snatched her
purse from the table and led her out of the house, back to the parked car. He glanced at her just before they pulled away. “I want our first time to be the only time you'll ever remember with any man. Once I let you into my heart, Reese, there's no turning back. You'll be mine. I promise you that.” His eyes raced over her face. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

She moved toward him, her hand reaching out to caress his face, stroking away the final vestiges of worry from his countenance. “Yes,” she whispered. “You are what I want.”

He leaned closer, taking her chin in his palm and pulling her toward him. His mouth covered hers in a long, mind-shattering kiss. Slowly he eased away. “Then that's what you'll have.”

Maxwell put the car in gear, backed out of the driveway, and headed toward the docks.

 

“They just pulled off,” the man in the dark sedan said into his radio.

“Keep a safe distance. And don't lose them,” came the reply.

“Yes sir.”

“Keep me posted.”

“D
o I at least get a hint this time about where we're going?” Reese quizzed, wiggling down in her seat.

“I'm going to take you to someplace beautiful, sultry, and romantic,” Maxwell teased, planting a kiss on Reese's forehead. “The stars will be our canopy, the hot night our blanket, ancient ruins that have withstood the test of time will be our beginning.”

“It doesn't sound real,” she said wistfully, shutting her eyes and smiling at the images.

“It's very real. I will tell you this. It's across the water and we'll be there in about an hour. Now just sit back and relax. I promise it'll be worth the ride.”

On the short drive to the open-air trolley, Max stole furtive glances in Reese's direction, intermittently holding her hand then bringing it gently to his lips. He knew there was no turning back now, he'd crossed the last line of his defense. He'd stated his intentions and she'd capitulated. Part of him
still clung to the security of elusiveness. Yet the part that needed to be cared for—accepted—loved totally—fought the winning battle.

When she looked at him, as she was doing now, as if he were the only man in the world, all of his doubts and reservations blew away with the tropical breeze around them.

“I know it's going to be wonderful, Max,” she whispered as if reading his thoughts. “It seems as if a part of me wanted what is sure to come the moment I saw you.” She moved over and rested her head on his shoulder. “I'm putting my trust, my heart on the line and in your hands. Trust me with yours.”

Maxwell looked down into her eyes that sparkled up at him with so much hope, so much faith. He smiled, gently kissed her lips and turned his attentions back to the road.

As promised, the drive to the trolley was short, accented by the beautiful scenery of San Diego's countryside. Maxwell smoothly donned the role of tour guide, pointing out sites of interest. “That's Horton Plaza to our right,” he indicated with a thrust of his chin. “Every store that's worth its logo is in there… As a matter of fact…” He turned off the main highway, cut around traffic, and pulled into the plaza's huge parking lot. “We have a stop to make before we get on the trolley,” Maxwell announced, bringing the Corvette to a squealing halt.

“Max. For heaven's sake, what now?” Reese asked, giggling as he rounded the car and helped her out.

He pulled her long, lush body fully against him, briefly sampling the sweetness of her thoroughly kissed lips. “I don't think you have everything you're going to need in that little purse of yours,” he said in a husky undertone. Reese's heartbeat accelerated when she witnessed the fire dance in his eyes.

“Is that right?” she countered, looking boldly up at him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Anything your heart desires, baby.” His fingers ran along her jawline, causing her to shiver with need. “Something soft, something sheer, something for the water, the nightlife, and then—nothing at all.” His mouth curved upward in a devilish grin.

Reese put her hand in his and smiled wickedly. “Let the shopping begin.”

They both laughed like two young lovers and headed off toward the stores.

 

Maxwell had insisted on paying for everything. Loaded down with shopping bags, straw hats, dark glasses, and an array of baseball caps, they stuffed their joint purchases in the trunk and sped off toward the trolley in downtown San Diego, laughing, kissing and holding hands all the way. By the time they arrived, parked and unloaded their packages, the last passenger was boarding. Racing like mad down the street, they hopped aboard and headed off toward the Mexican border only to hop a taxi into Tijuana. Reese was sure this was their final destination, until Maxwell announced that they needed a water taxi to cross the bay. Totally perplexed, Reese followed, this time not bothering to ask where they were going. It was apparent that Maxwell was a man of few words and many secrets. Whatever he wanted her to know he'd tell her, and the hell with anything else.

The water taxi pulled to a stop some fifteen minutes later. Maxwell stepped out and helped Reese to her feet. The bags followed. “We're really here this time,” Maxwell grinned, seeing the look of skepticism on her face. “I swear,” he added, holding up his hand.

“That remains to be seen,” she answered, doubtful. Reese took the opportunity to look around and realized that she
was actually on an island. “Can you please tell me where we are?”

Maxwell put his arm around her shoulder. “We're on Coronado Island across the bay from Tijuana, Mexico.”

Reese blinked back her astonishment. When Maxwell Knight did something, it was no holds barred. She wondered what else he had up his short sleeves.

“When I said I was going to make our time together memorable, that's exactly what I meant. Now, come on. We have to check in.”

Reese was too awestruck to respond, so she put her faith in this man who had her head spinning.

 

Reese slowly spun around in the room they'd share together. Her heart filled with joy and wonder. It was straight out of the movies. High archways, in lieu of doors, led from one open-aired room to another. The whitewashed stucco walls, flower-filled balconies, huge four-poster bed, and hardwood floors made her sigh with delight. She felt as if she'd been transported to another time and place. Any minute she expected Clint Eastwood to step onto the scene. It was no wonder that Hotel del Coronado was deemed a historic site on the tiny island. From the balcony, she could see the large sand dunes covered with brilliant colored flowers and the slow-walking, hand-holding couples who strolled along the white, sandy beach and dusty roads. Vendors peddling their wares overflowed onto the street, against a backdrop of houses built into the mountainside.

Even though the hotel, built in the early 1900s, maintained its aesthetic look, it also boasted ultra-modern facilities. The bathroom was right out of
Architectural Digest
with gold-plated faucets, a Jacuzzi, his and her sinks, and a stall shower.

“This is absolutely fabulous, Max,” she murmured. She
shook her head, at a loss for words. She looked up at him from beneath dark lashes. “You did all of this for me?”

“For us,” he corrected, crossing the room to meet her halfway. “Because no matter what happens between us Reese, we've started building memories. From the first moment we met.” His smile was slow and seductive as he tapped his index finger against her temple. He slid his arms around her slender waist and pulled her close. He lowered his head to drop a soft kiss on her lips. “And I have no intention of letting you forget any moment that we share.” He took a deep breath. “Since it's still early, why don't we take a quick tour before everyone pulls in their tents for siesta?”

Reese grinned. “Sounds perfect.” She held up a finger and spun away. “Let me just grab my hat,” she said, snatching up the wide-brimmed hat and setting it jauntily on her head. She slipped her dark glasses on and posed, pulling her glasses down to the bridge of her nose with one hand, and fisting the other on a jutting hip. “Ready when you are sailor,” she said in a Mae West affectation.

 

Together they wandered in and out of small, quaint shops, inhaled the beach-washed air, ate tacos and washed them down with margaritas. Maxwell haggled with each and every vendor, just for the fun of it, Reese realized—tickled by his un-Maxwell-Knight-like behavior. Here was a man who could be romantic, charming, fun, full of mischief, extravagance, and mystery all rolled up into one. What had she gotten herself into with this man who defied explanation? Away from the office, he was a completely different man. He wasn't some impenetrable force. She looked up at his profile while he pointed out yet another place for them to traipse. If anything, she thought, he was a very vulnerable man who longed to share a part of himself with that special someone.

 

The blazing summer sun was at its highest point in the sky. When they reemerged from their room donned in bathing suits, it was still a balmy eighty degrees with the warm sea air blowing off of the beach.

Maxwell had challenged Reese to a race on Jet Skis, and of course Reese never backed down from a challenge—whether she knew how to Jet Ski or not! She figured she'd seen enough on television. So what could be so hard?

 

Drenched and waterlogged from the amount of water she'd ingested, Reese threw up the white flag and herself across the warm sand.

“You win,” she puffed, draping her arm across her eyes.

Maxwell stood over her chuckling. “Are you all right?” He laughed.

Reese removed her arm and squinted up at him. She sucked her teeth, rolled her eyes, and continued to suffer in silence.

Maxwell reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. “I have just the thing to make you feel better.”

“What now?” she grumbled, “deep-sea diving?”

Maxwell roared with laughter pulling her snugly against him. “There is fish involved. But we won't have to get it ourselves.”

“Small blessings.

“Come on, let's get changed into something more appropriate.”

 

“Where did you learn to Jet Ski?” Reese asked, toweling off her hair.

Maxwell crossed the room and opened the closet door in search of an outfit. “When I was about eighteen my father was stationed on one of the bases in Los Angeles. I spent tons
of time on the beach that summer. I got better when I went to Nassau. It's a favorite pastime over there.”

Reese wrapped her damp body and wet bathing suit in a towel and plopped down on the bed. “You've done so many wonderful things. Traveling around the world with your parents did have its merits.”

Maxwell shrugged. “I suppose. In terms of expanding my horizons,” he said sarcastically, “I guess it did. But family life was pretty null and void.”

“What about your stepmother? What did she do?”

“Tried unsuccessfully to make a life for me and my father.” He shook his head. “We were both so busy trying to get my father's attention until we pretty much ignored each other. When she wasn't redecorating one of the many homes we lived in, she was tending to our needs.” He sighed. “Looking back now, I realize how hard it must have been for her. Unfortunately, growing up I didn't see and didn't care. By the time I was old enough to ‘get it' we were practically strangers. I had withdrawn into the solitary world of computers and she withdrew into her books, and volunteer organizations.”

“What about now?”

He shrugged again. “I call, she calls, we exchange cards on all the appropriate occasions.” He turned away, memories of his lonely childhood washing over him.

“What is your relationship with your father?”

“Humph.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “My father, big-time special forces agent… What can I say about James Knight? The bottom line is, he is a man who is dedicated to one thing and one thing alone, the United States government—no matter what the cost. He's a hard-line military man with a military man mentality. There's no room in his life for sentimentalities, second guessing, or anyone who doesn't understand.”

Reese shook her head sadly. “I thought I always had it rough,” she commented wryly. “My aunt Celeste treated me
as if I had the plague or something. I know she felt trapped with having to raise me. But I could never understand her resentment of me. She always treated me as if my existence was somehow responsible for my family's death. As if by not remembering I was denigrating their memory. I would have thought that she would have loved me, if for no other reason than I was her sister's daughter—the only connection left of her family.” Her voice broke. “But she never did.”

“So you retreated into a world of writing?” Maxwell interjected. “As I escaped into the world of computers.”

She nodded. “Yes. That and an insatiable desire to find answers, the truth in every story I wrote. Like that would somehow validate my life,” she continued in a wistful tone.

“What a pair we are,” he said, trying to make light of the situation.

Reese abruptly got up and came to stand in front of him. She looked up into his stern face. “I'd say we make a great pair. We're survivors. We have strength of character. We know what it feels like to need to be cared about and wanting to give that caring in return tenfold.” She smoothed her hand across his cheek. “No matter what happens in this relationship, we'll be richer for it. I just know that.”

Maxwell touched her lips lightly with his. “Is that your writer's instinct talking again?”

“No,” she grinned. “Woman's intuition.”

 

Reese had changed into the sea-green gauze dress that Maxwell had specifically chosen for her. He said it did enchanting things for her eyes and flawless chocolate-brown complexion. She'd twisted her hair atop her head, leaving wispy tendrils draping around her face and neck. Her only jewelry was gold studs and a single gold bangle that she wore on her left wrist.

Maxwell selected a soft cotton shirt of cinnamon with
matching slacks, set off by a lizard belt and coordinating sandals, the earthy colors accenting his smooth bronze tones. Reese was shocked, yet pleasantly pleased to see a tiny, twinkling diamond stud in his left ear. Maxwell was full of surprises.

As they walked hand in hand toward the restaurant, Maxwell realized how light of spirit he felt. It had been so long since he'd just enjoyed without reservation—time spent with a woman for the pure pleasure of it. If he and Reese made love he was sure it would be wonderful. But even if they didn't, these magical moments would always remain in his heart. What would life be like to have Reese Delaware in it every day?

The tangy aroma of Mexican food swirled around the restaurant. Fajitas sizzled and popped on table tops, the scent of green peppers, onions and steamed tomatoes were enough to make your mouth water. Sautéed and grilled fish permeated the air. And margaritas and tequilas flowed as readily as running water.