Wet Part 3 (19 page)

“Paul, you’re hovering, and it’s making me feel rushed. I can’t shop with you pressuring me to hurry.”

“
Seriously
?” He sounded incredulous. “This is you, feeling pressured to
hurry
?”

“Yes!” She stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Please, go. Maybe you can get a drink while I finish up here. You’ll be happier, and I’ll be happier.”

He groaned at the suggestion of a drink. It was too soon, his headache was a reminder of that. “Okay. I’ll head over to the restaurant and get us a table.”

He flashed one of his signature smiles, something he hadn’t done since the hijacking, and she knew getting him out of the room had been a good decision. She smiled back and his right eye did its winkie-twitch thing before he leaned down and returned her kiss, but on the lips. Her breath caught and her heart fluttered and for the first time in over two weeks, she felt an inkling of hope.

“The restaurant is right across the atrium. See it?” He pointed. “I’ll keep an eye out. If you need me, just flag me down.”

“I won’t need you. Go.” He looked wounded, and she bit her bottom lip. “I will always need you, but I think I can handle buying a brush and some gum, okay?”

She waited until he made it to the other side of the atrium before she grabbed what she needed. The girl at the counter was about to ring her up when Rhees saw something else she needed on a shelf behind the clerk.

“I’ll take three of those, too.”

The girl turned to see what Rhees was pointing to.

“Mini bottles? Vodka, or rum?”

“Vodka.”

Rhees charged it to the room the way Paul had and she removed the tube from its packaging, slipping it into her purse along with the mini-bottles. The girl gave her a wary look when Rhees handed her the empty box and asked her to throw it away. Rhees glanced back at the restaurant and didn’t see Paul. She nervously stepped out of the store.

“Get what you need?” Paul made her jump. He leaned against the window of the store. Rhees was sure she’d been caught and couldn’t answer. He took her hand. “Come on, I found someone I want you to talk to.”

He nearly dragged her into the hotel bar and up to the counter. She finally relaxed when he didn’t confront her about her purchase.

“Javier,” Paul said with a smile, offering his hand to fist bump the bartender. The man returned Paul’s greeting with a smile. “Javier, I’d like you to meet my bride, Rhees. Rhees, this is Javier. He took good care of me last night.”

“You didn’t need to add such a generous tip to the tab,” Javier said. Paul shrugged modestly, but he honestly couldn’t remember how much he’d tipped the man.

“Listen, Javier. My memory is a little fuzzy about last night. Could you remind me what happened?”

“You drank, a lot. I normally cut people off, but I could tell you needed to forget something.” Javier nervously shot Rhees a glance and then looked back at Paul.

“I figured that part out when I woke up this morning.” Paul laughed. He pulled Rhees in a little closer. “It’s okay. You can be truthful. My wife and I don’t keep secrets.”

Rhees went a little pale.

“Did I leave with anyone, like with a woman?”

“No. You sat right there, all night, until you did leave, alone.”

Paul smiled and gave Rhees a look to suggest he’d proved his innocence.

“That doesn’t change the fact you had lipstick on your neck. And there’s still the ashtray breath.” She gave him a bug-eye look, letting him know he wasn’t off the hook so easily.

“Did I do anything inappropriate for a married man? Did I hit on any women?”

“No, but the women sure hit on you.”

“So, you’re saying I didn’t hit back?” 

Javier suddenly looked worried. He glanced at Paul, then to Rhees, and back to Paul again. With a little trepidation, he offered, “There was that one lady.” Paul and Rhees’ shoulders sagged at the news. “She sat next to you for almost an hour, trying to convince you to go back to her room with her. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but she was so obvious, that kind of thing is hard to miss. She offered to buy you drinks, but you kindly refused. You did take a cigarette from her though, and the two of you talked while you smoked. I was helping another customer, so I didn’t hear what happened, but she suddenly stood and started yelling at you. She called you a scary SOB, and stormed off.”

“Proof?” Paul turned to Rhees, waiting for her verdict. Rhees couldn’t help the happy grin on her face. She threw her arms around his neck, elated with the news.

“She called you scary.” Rhees made it sound like a good thing and squeezed tighter. “Yeah. It’s definitely proof.”

“So how do I always end up the bad, scary guy?” Paul asked. “I try to be nice about turning them down, but they won’t listen until they force me to spell it out to them.”

“You don’t scare me.” Rhees planted her lips on his and kissed him for several seconds before she realized what she was doing. She pulled back, their eyes locked on each other. Paul’s expression grew increasingly worrisome, as if he expected her to break into another fit like the one at the police station. She smiled a big, happy smile instead. 

Chapter 13

T
he next morning, Rhees lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Paul paced back and forth in front of the sliding glass door, wearing a path in the carpet, in nothing but the ugly boxer shorts that, surprisingly, she had found herself starting to think, looked good on him. That little twinge of lust she’d felt while watching him pace had given her hope, once again. Those feelings were coming along, but he made her feel so frustrated with his refusal to even try to see things her way.

They’d fought the night before, again. Armed with her new tools, Rhees had tried to convince him to give sex another try. Paul had argued she couldn’t be ready so soon—same old story. She couldn’t tell him how
prepared
she was, so they’d kissed and made up before falling asleep.

That morning, she’d noticed how valiantly
He
stood at attention when Paul awoke and she’d tried to take advantage of the situation.

“You have no idea how hard this is for me,” he snarled, after flying from the bed to avoid temptation. “
He’s
screaming for some release and I don’t know how much longer I can hold off before I lose my shit and just take you. That’s not what you want!”

“Please. Just try,” she begged. She glanced at her new little purse on the desk. If she could get him to agree to cooperate, she’d say she needed to freshen up, grab the bag, telling him her new brush was inside, and she’d sneak off into the bathroom to get
ready
for him. It had to work. She climbed off the bed and made her way to the window, and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. It was the best grip she could get as she’d had to catch him mid-stride.

“Please, Paul. You don’t know how hard this is for me, too. I need you to help me get through it. I know it’ll be okay, once it’s over with, the first time.”

He didn’t respond to her affection, and she even heard faint cuss words being mumbled under his breath. It spiked her temper that he had to be so pigheaded.

“Why are you making this out like it has to be some grandiose production? Stop treating me like I’m fragile. I’m no different than the other girls. Why can’t you just do what you usually do?”

He turned and bore his cold, hard eyes into her but didn’t answer right away.

“Paul?”

“All right!” he boomed. He took two long steps over to the bed and lay diagonally on top. “Go ahead.”

“W—what?” She suddenly felt queasy.

“Come on!” he tormented. “I’m here. Go for it!
He’s
even halfway there for you—hanging on to the morning salute that started this whole thing.”

“But—”

“Come on, Baby,” he said through tight lips and clenched teeth. He lifted his head to look at her. “Get it over with.”

“You can’t expect me to—” she stammered. How could he expect her to—she was incapacitated, on the verge of panic. “I can’t do that. You—you know I can’t.”

“What? You don’t want to do all the work? Why not? This is your idea.” He feigned shock. “Isn’t this exactly what you expect me to do? Oh wait, that’s not quite right. I know
I’m
not going to freak out and hate every second until it’s over. Hell, I’m not going to lie, I’ll fucking love it. But you’d rather I hold you down and just take what you don’t want to give?”

“Don’t do this.”

He dropped his head back on the bed and growled his frustration. She sat on the end of the chaise, trembling, and fighting the urge to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rasped with emotion.

“That was a pretty shitty thing to do,” she said, sulking.

“Back at ya,” he whispered. “I’m sorry . . . it was called for.”

“You mean, uncalled for.”

“Nope.”

She huffed a laugh, and so he did too.

The phone rang, startling them both. Paul sat up and hit the speaker button of the phone on the bedside table.

“What?” he snapped because of the interruption.

“Uh,” fumbled the voice at the other end. “I’m sorry, Mr. Weaver, but we have a courier here at the front desk. He says he needs to deliver his package in person.”

“Thank goodness. Send him up.” Paul sighed with relief. “Good news, Baby.”

He stood and threw on his pants before running into the bathroom. She didn’t get the chance to ask about it. A few minutes later, he answered the knock at the door before Rhees got off the chaise. He greeted the courier in Spanish and signed for the large envelope, sending the man on his way.

Paul stepped back into the bedroom, holding the package up for Rhees to see, with a very excited look on his face, all the tension that had previously been oozing from every pore, had disappeared.

“You’re looking at freedom, Baby.” He looked like a boy at Christmas as he opened the package and spilled the contents on the bed, a black, leather-bound folder, another leather-bound booklet, and a leather billfold.

“That’s freedom?”

With a knowing grin in place, Paul pulled on the silk ribbons in the folder, looking at her like a magician in the middle of a magic trick. Two credit cards slid out of some secret compartment and he popped them out to hold them up for her to see. He’d done that before.

“When I left . . .” He hesitated, apparently not liking the memory of how he’d stormed out the other night. “On the way to the bar, I stopped in at the hotel’s business center. The hotel provides courtesy computers and printers, that sort of thing, for their guests. I ordered new credit cards. I’ve been too pre-occupied to think of doing it sooner. I’ve been stuck here at the hotel, putting everything on my tab. That night, I finally remembered to report my stolen cards.” He held up the cards again and fanned out a stack of cash he’d just pulled from the billfold.

“The fastest replacement service on the planet. That’s what you get with a good credit card and a redonkulous annual fee that I’ve never been so happy about paying, before now. But this means we don’t have to be hostages to the hotel anymore. What do you say we go out, really out, have lunch at a nice restaurant, away from this building that’s been my prison for the last two and a half weeks?” His eyes lit up with a sudden idea. “We can get new clothes.”

She nodded at his idea and smiled at the confirmation, once again. She’d figured it out when he charged their purchases at the store, and then again at the restaurant, but up to that point, she’d been sure, the loss of his wallet to the hijackers was one more piece of evidence that he’d been with a woman, a woman who paid for his drinks.

“When I ordered the new card, I added your name to my account as an authorized user.” He handed her a card. “Mine is unlimited, but for some reason, they only gave your card a hundred thousand-dollar limit.”

“Only a hundred thousand.” She felt too shell-shocked to give him a proper reaction.

“It’s just for now. We’ll get you your own account when we get home. Even though I authorized you to use the card, unless you’re with me, you don’t get to take advantage of any of the perks I get as the account holder. It aggravates me.”

“Paul, the only credit card I’ve ever owned had a three hundred-dollar limit.” She’d fumbled around in the dark, found the switch to her brain, and turned it back on. “I think this is adequate—oh, and don’t forget, it’s a hundred-freaking-thousand-dollars!” she shrieked. “What the heck would I possibly need that much money for? Except for maybe a house, I’d never sign up for that much debt.”

“You don’t run up debt. You pay it off every month.” Paul chuckled as if she’d just cracked a joke. He gave her a quick smooch on the lips. “Credit cards are convenient. You get purchase protection, theft protection, perks.” He held up the money and new cards again to remind her. “All your spending records are in one place. Convenience.”

He handed her the card again but she still didn’t reach for it.

“Take it. I need you to promise me you’ll use it if you need
anything
.” He watched her, and she could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes. “Rhees. This card is your independence. I don’t want you to feel like you have to come to me for money every time you need something. You’re my wife. What once was mine, is now yours—
ours
.”

The look on her face must have made him doubt she would, because he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Humor me. Just put it in your new little purse for emergencies. Give your hubby some peace of mind, okay?”

She nodded, for his benefit, but she had to concentrate—actually had to talk herself out of hyperventilating. She’d just caught her first real glimpse of what he meant about being rich. He’d spoiled her on occasion. Indulged himself, taking her along for the ride, but she’d had no life experience to put it into context.

oOo

Paul and Rhees took their time at lunch. With a recommendation from the concierge, they’d walked to a very nice restaurant not far from the hotel. Fresh air, good food, a great wine list, Paul finally felt like he could breathe again.

They had gin and tonics with their appetizer, two glasses of wine with their entrées, and their coconut ice cream came doused with a shot of Kahlua. They were feeling pretty good when they walked out onto the street in a popular upscale shopping district.

“Let’s shop now. You need clothes.” Paul knew it to be one of the safer parts of the city and would be able to refrain from acting too bodyguard with her.

“What? You don’t like my green scrubs?”

“You’d look good in a gunny sack, but you’d look even better in a sexy, short, very sheer sundress.”

“Short? Sheer?” She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Sounds just like me.”

“So which animal did you choose?” Paul asked, avoiding any further reference to his mistake of mentioning sexy, sex—anything having to do with the topic. He
really
needed a swim. The hotel room was too small for his needs. The bathroom didn’t have a door and the thought of her walking in on him, catching him
swimming
in the open concept shower—he thought for sure, in her condition—he didn’t want to scar her for life.

“What?”

“The stuffed animals. Yesterday. Which one did you buy?”

“I didn’t buy one. I don’t really like stuffed animals. They do nothing but collect dust.”

He paused to give her a confused look, but seeing her, after a long two and a half weeks, she looked relaxed and more like herself than he’d noticed so far. A strand of her hair fluttered in the slight breeze and he reached to tuck it behind her ear.

“You seem to be doing all right out here in the world,” he said, taking her in.

“Yeah, it’s not as hard as I had myself all worked up, thinking it would be.”

“Good. That’s very good.” Paul tugged on the hem of her shirt. “Let’s shop.” He took her hand and pulled her into the nearest clothing store. She felt out of place the second they walked in. It seemed to her there were only four things to choose from in the whole store and not one of them excited her. 

“This place intimidates me,” she whispered to him. Her insecurity only grew when the saleswomen looked her up and down, making no attempt to hide their disgust with her outfit, and then they noticed Paul. Suddenly, they were falling over themselves to be helpful.

“My wife needs clothes,” he said. The women were too obviously disappointed about hearing he was married but still raced around, showing him, not Rhees, their collection. Rhees still wasn’t impressed.

“Paul, I see nothing here I like.” She leaned into him to whisper again. She hated the way the two sales clerks treated her like a hick, fresh off the farm, but also how openly they tried to flirt with her husband.

“Okay Baby, anything you say.” He shrugged helplessly at the women, letting them know Rhees was in charge. He kissed Rhees with a little more passion than usual while in public, also showing them how in love he was with the woman they’d looked down their noses at, and he ushered her out the door. He turned back and flashed them one of his evil smiles and saluted them with his middle finger but then looked sheepish when he realized Rhees had caught him being rude.

“Sorry,” he said when they stepped outside. “I hated the way they treated you. I would have said something—it was hard not to let them have it, but I didn’t want to burn any bridges before I knew you weren’t going to buy something in there.”

“Actually . . .” She returned his sheepish grin. “I thought it was kind of
hawt
—
this time
. Not all the time, but you do make me feel safe—knowing the lengths you’ll go to look out for me.”

“
Hawt
?” He arched a brow at her choice of words.

She nodded, shyly, and looked up at him through her lashes. He blew out a long breath, knowing his days were numbered. Rhees was slowly killing him. She was so beautiful and he was so—he needed to research exploding testicles. He had to know how much longer he had to live.

oOo

They tried a few more stores. Paul bought a few things for himself, wearing the new clothes when he came out of the dressing room. He’d ripped the tags off and handed them to the cashier so she could ring him up. He also handed her his slacks and golf shirt.

“Can you toss these in the trash for me?” he asked the girl before he turned to Rhees and made a production of modeling what he had on.

He wore a button-up dress shirt, untucked of course. The shirt was white with what looked like a thin, light blue stripe, but the stripes were fashioned from a scrolling vine pattern. They all slanted downward toward the line of buttons in the front, and to the middle seam in the back. He looked at Rhees, tilted his head and raised one brow, before pointing to his shirt, waiting to see if she’d pick up on the V pattern. She blushed because she did.

He also bought a pair of jeans—not his usual brand but Rhees liked the way they looked on him—a lot.

“Not quite my usual attire,” he said. “But I won’t have to be a walking advertisement for the hotel anymore.”

A few more stores later, Rhees still hadn’t found anything for herself and Paul was starting to get grumpy.

“Baby, you need clothes. I have clothes at home, but almost everything you owned disappeared with our luggage.”

“Is there a Wal-Mart around?” She tried to laugh it off, sensing his waning patience.

“No. There isn’t. Maybe you’ll have to
settle
for something a little more sophisticated.”

“I’m sorry I’m not more
sophisticated
, but I just don’t get these boutique shops.”

She heard him growl under his breath, but he took her hand again, and they continued their walk along the street.

“That was uncalled for,” he said a minute later. “I’m sorry. You always look beautiful, very elegant. I’ve always admired your fashion sense.”

They stopped at every store but only looked in the windows because she moaned every time he tried to drag her inside when they all looked the same. They neared the end of the shopping district, noticing the stores seemed to be getting less luxurious and expensive, but also where Paul started expressing his concern about their safety.