Taming the Legend (9 page)

“Will you?” Ash applied a tad more pressure with his knee and
Sergio shook his head.

“The word
puta,
it’s banned from your vocabulary. Isn’t it?” He flexed his knee, and Sergio quickly agreed. “From now on, you’ll treat her with respect. And if you can’t do that, you’ll stay away from her. Got it?”

Sergio nodded.

“Good.” Ash pushed himself off the floor and held out his hand to help Sergio up. That was the first time Camila noticed the blood
dripping off his fingers. His sleeve was sliced up and wet with blood. He stared at it as if it belonged to someone else. “Fuck.”

Camila was by his side in an instant. “Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Terrified, she stayed with him the whole journey and throughout the long wait to see a doctor. When he was taken into a treatment bay, she came and sat on the hospital bed next
to him as the doctor stitched him up. She couldn’t bear to be separated from him. Couldn’t bear not to touch him. She laid her hand on his knee and gave him a squeeze that was intended to reassure herself as much as him. Her whole body trembled from the shock. She’d seen fights before, so that wasn’t what left her feeling catatonic.

He’d stood up for her. He’d risked himself to prove that
she mattered. That she was better than those things Sergio had said.

“The only person who’s ever stood up for me like that is my brother Gabriel.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Has he had to stand up for you a lot?”

She hadn’t intended to say what she’d said out loud, so she didn’t really know how much more to reveal about herself, her family. “A few times. But I try to do it for him,
too, because he gets the same crap I do.”

“What crap is that?”

She glanced at him in surprise before the truth hit her. “Don’t you speak Spanish?”

“Just a couple words.”

“Oh. The way you reacted back there, I thought you understood what Sergio said to me.”

The doctor pushed the needle into part of his arm that apparently hadn’t been numbed, because he winced and watched
the doctor work for a few seconds. Blood had never made her queasy before, but seeing his did. She tried to focus on the strong line of his jaw as he answered. “I didn’t understand his words, but I could read your body language perfectly well. Whatever he said, he deserved a good kicking.”

She swallowed hard. “I agree. I just wish I could’ve been the one who gave it to him.”

He tugged
her closer and pressed his lips against her temple, murmuring, “I’m sure you could. Thank you for letting me take care of it this time, though. Made me feel all manly and tough. Intimidating.”

Her body shook as a snort of laughter escaped her, and the anger and fear began melting away. Not just the bad emotions Sergio had sparked in her tonight, but the ones that had gathered in her gut her
whole life. This guy—the one who spent his days sitting on a towel talking to his buddy about girls and a sport with weird, dirty-sounding vocabulary she couldn’t even begin to understand—he’d stood up for her and shown her she mattered.

She snuggled closer and stared up at him as her body flushed hotly with true, genuine desire. Not lust, and not the desire to fit in—the kind of desire that
had led her into boys’ arms before. No, this was warmth and passion and appreciation all rolled into a sweet, fiery package that unfurled inside her. “I don’t think you have any problems with manliness, Ash.”

“You don’t?” He kept his voice light and teasing, but she could hear the insecurity behind it.

“No,” she whispered. She tilted her head and swayed closer. Ash met her halfway, gently
settling his lips on hers. Teasing her. Tasting her. He tasted
amazing.
Not like cheap beer or chewing tobacco but just like…like a sweet, tender guy with his own hang-ups.

One thing he didn’t need to have any hang-ups about was his ability to kiss. Dear God in heaven, the boy could kiss. Blood rushed away from her head, making her more needful than any kiss in the past. When the tip of her
tongue tangled with his, she nearly laid him flat with her eagerness to get at him, but a not-so-gentle jerk of his body brought her fuzzy brain back to the room and the doctor holding his arm.

“Finish.”

Camila didn’t know if it was a command to wrap up the public display of affection or if the doctor meant to say
finished.
Either way, she pulled back from him and smiled up, seeing her
own love-drunk face reflected in his eyes. “I think we can go now.”

“
Sí.
Finish,” the doctor said.

She hopped down from the treatment table and held Ash’s hand on the whole journey back into town. “Where are you staying?”

“At a hostel.”

Her shoulders slumped a little, disappointment doing nothing to temper the arousal he’d lit inside her. “Not a private room, I’m guessing.”

“It’s got five bunk beds. So no, not really private.” But her meaning was clear enough, and awareness of it sparked in his eyes. She wanted him. He wanted her. They needed to find a place to be alone.

She stepped in front of him and turned, walking backward down a hill as she swung her arms in self-consciousness. “I’d invite you back to my cousins’, but…”

“Probably not a good idea
just now.”

“No.” She grinned. “How about the beach?”

“Do you think it’s safe?” he teased, making her laugh as she stopped walking and slid her arms around his waist.

“You’ll always be safe with me, Ash.”

His brows shot up. “I think I’m the one who’s supposed to assure you of that.”

“But you don’t need to. I already know it.” And she began to love him for it.

They
didn’t have sex that night—another thing to love him for, though his restraint frustrated her at the time. They sat on the beach, kissing and touching, exploring each other over their clothes until Camila thought she’d explode.

They kissed until the sun came up over the Mediterranean. Several times, she silently questioned him—
Are we going to do it?
But he just kept kissing her. Touching
her. Cupping her cheeks and playing with her hair and holding her close. Taking his time and ramping up her eagerness to become part of him completely.

And when the sunrise tinged the sand pinky-yellow, he finally pulled back. Camila wrapped herself around him and snuggled against his chest. Her hands stole beneath his shirt and lightly stroked his stomach, making him shiver. They were quiet
for several minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. Camila’s thoughts focused on the boy in her arms and how she could convince him to spend the day with her instead of on the beach, looking for opportunities to score with other girls.

“Have you been to Park Güell yet?” she asked, her voice tentative.

“No. What’s that?”

She raised herself onto her elbows and stared down at him,
her hair falling over her shoulders to veil both their faces. “It’s one of Barcelona’s biggest tourist attractions. You haven’t heard of it?”

He shook his head.

“How much do you know about Barcelona?”

“It’s got beaches. People speak Catalan. The girls are fit.”

She climbed off him, sat back and hugged her knees to her chest. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” His voice
made it obvious he knew what was coming and was a little embarrassed by it.

“You’re good-looking and funny. I’ve seen a dozen girls throw themselves at you in the last few days. Why are you a virgin?”

He let his head fall back into the sand and stared up at the sky. “It wasn’t really a conscious decision. I just haven’t been around that many girls, I guess. I went to an all-boys public
school, so all my mates are guys. I quit school when I was sixteen and have played rugby full-time since then. The girls I meet…” He grimaced and met her gaze briefly before clearing his throat. “They’re not really women I’d want to sleep with.”

Before she could find out why not, he shrugged. “Rugby’s my life. I’ve got these two weeks off, but when I go back I’ll be playing with the first
team and I’ll need to prove myself quickly. I won’t have time for anything else. I don’t want to be a virgin. Believe me, the drive is definitely there. But… I don’t like the thought of doing those things with a stranger. But I also don’t have time for a relationship. It doesn’t leave me many options.”

The words tumbled out in a wave of confusion. She watched him quietly as he spilled his
innards.

“Am I a stranger?”

His body went taut at her soft question. “You’re becoming less of one.”

“Do you want to do those things with me?”

“More and more as I get to know you better.”

“You could’ve scored with Bubble Butt.”

He reached out, grabbed her hand and laid it on his stomach. “But then I wouldn’t have learned what a Chicana is or that California used to
be part of Mexico.”

“No, but you would’ve learned what a blow job feels like.” She grazed her short fingernails over the skin of his lower belly, gently scratching the short, dark hairs leading south from his belly button. When her fingers jumped the barrier of his waistband and stroked him through his jeans, he sucked in a breath. And when she lay back on the sand and pulled him on top of
her, he clasped her face and throbbed against her lower belly as he kissed her deeply. But she wriggled beneath him, desperate to get closer.

“I want to touch you. Can I touch you?” She fumbled at the button fly of his jeans, and before he could answer, her hand had wrapped around his hot, hard length and squeezed with a pressure that made him groan.

“Oh, God.” His body trembled with
restraint. She stroked him once, twice. He planted his knees in the sand and bowed so the only place they touched was where she stroked him, as if touching her anywhere else would push him over the edge. “Mila. Oh, fuck.”

She buried her face in his neck. “Do you want to know what a blow job feels like?”

“God, yes,” he moaned. But he moved her hand, sat up and unsnapped her jeans. “But
I want to know what you taste like more.”

Her eyes widened. “I…um…do you mean…”

“Yeah.”

“No one’s ever…”

“Good. Then you won’t know if I’m doing it wrong.”

She couldn’t help but grin. “I don’t think there’s any such thing as doing it wrong.”

He grinned too. “I guess we’ll find out together, huh?”

Later that morning, he left the beach with his virginity still
intact, but only just. And she left with her heart full of him.

Bzzzzz.

A swarm of bees swooped down over them—

Bzzzzz.

Wait. There hadn’t been any bees.

Consciousness slowly returned as a green light blinked on her phone lying on the bedside table. She jerked awake and grabbed it to find two messages from Ash, one sent a few seconds after the other.

Boarding now.
See you soon.

Shit. Hope that text didn’t wake you up. Dock my pay if it did.

Her sleepy heart picked up speed. After everything she’d confessed, after the mess she’d been in London, he was still treating her like a normal, everyday human being instead of a failure, the way she’d felt when she told him about giving up their baby and being unable to pay back her father’s debts.

Before she could think better of it, she texted back:
Safe flight, Ash. I’ll dock you one hug on arrival.

She hit send and immediately wished her phone had a recall function. Tapping furiously at the screen so she could explain herself before he could reply, she followed up with:
A friendly hug. That’s all.

Every muscle in her body held itself tightly as she waited. And waited. Her phone
buzzed.

I wanted to give you a friendly hug when I dropped you at Heathrow. Thought you’d knee my bollocks. Glad to know they’ll be safe. My friendly arms and I will see you at LAX in about 11 hours.

A slow, sleepy grin spread across her lips. Making peace with Ash Trenton—who would’ve thought it?

She managed to doze a bit after that, but her sleep was disrupted by remembrances
of Ash holding her, cuddling her, tugging her into his arms and hugging her whenever he could. When she’d met him, she hadn’t thought she had many firsts left to experience. She’d been worldly-wise at sixteen. Fifteen, even. She’d been shocked to discover so many firsts with Ash, including the comfort of being held against a sweet boy’s chest with his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Those hugs had been one of the reasons she’d lowered her guard and fallen in love with him. She couldn’t do that again, but she could give him a hug to bring closure to all the crap they’d suffered.

But now she had another problem. She’d misled him about her team of rugby players. Okay,
misled
was about as accurate as saying she’d greeted him with a love tap the other night. She’d outright
lied to him about a couple of things and omitted some information that shouldn’t be relevant but might have been a deal-breaker for him.

But, at the time, she’d still thought he was the asshole who’d already turned his back on her once and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. And she’d been desperate.

Now he was on his way, probably making plans for the experienced team he expected to meet
in L.A. Very soon she would have to admit how liberal she’d been with the truth. Would he be angry? Humiliated?

Would he leave?

The thoughts plagued her until her alarm went off at quarter to six and she started her morning routine. A few hours later, her body pulsed with anticipation and nerves as she pushed open the lodge’s squeaky screen door and stepped into the outer office where
Becca sat at the reception desk. “Morning, Bec.”

“Morning. You look like crap.”

Camila gave her a wry smile. “Remind me—what was the name of that Swiss finishing school you went to?”

“Ha-ha. I’ll put extra coffee out in Tahquitz. You look like you’ll need it.”

Camila went down the hall to Tahquitz, their biggest meeting room, and poured herself a cup. No diluting it with milk
today. She needed all the caffeine she could ingest. One by one, her staff arrived, uncharacteristically silent and somber. None of them made much effort to hide their worry, driving home how much they depended on her to pull them through this crisis. She hadn’t wanted to tell them she’d found a solution until she’d known for sure Ash was coming. By now he was probably somewhere over Canada.