Chapter Twelve
Dalton's Magic Rule #13:
Draw out the tension until the big finish.
“Let me get this straight,” Lucy insisted. “He actually got you to do a sixty-nine, and you liked it?”
Melina tossed another shirt into her suitcase before she turned back to her friend. “Yes, Lucy, he did. Y-E-S. And, yes, I did. The answers are the same no matter how many times you ask the questions. Now, can we please talk about more pressing matters? Like how I'm going to get on stage without puking and single-handedly ruining Rhys's shot at this contract?”
From her spot on the bed, Grace fanned herself with both hands. “I don't know, darlin'. After what you described, how can you think of anything other than when you can jump him next?”
“On the other hand,” Lucy interjected, “think about how grateful he's going to be after you help him land that cruise gig. My God, the man will probably do anything you ask him to. A-ny-thing.”
Melina shook her head. “Will you two stop? You should have seen his face when I said I'd help him. He wants that contract—he needs it—and he's relying on me. What if I can't do it? What if I let him down?”
“What if unicorns and flying dragons really do exist?” Lucy shot back. “Why are you focusing on the show and the contract Rhys may or may not get? You had mind-blowing, head-banging sex with your fantasy guy, and he's obviously in love with you.”
Melina sat down on the bed next to Grace, only to fall backward and stare at the ceiling. “Believe me, the sex isn't far from my mind. But where do you get he's in love with me?”
“He asked you to go to Reno with him before Max called,” Grace pointed out.
Biting her lip, she sat up. “You really think he's in love with me?”
“Yes,” Lucy said.
“Definitely,” agreed Grace.
“Then why wouldn't he just say so?” Melina asked softly.
“Why haven't you told him that you love him?” Lucy countered.
Wide-eyed, Melina stared at her. “Because I'm afraid.”
“Of what? He's not going to reject you. The guy bought you a rocking bikini in France, for God's sake!”
“I'm afraid he'll walk away anyway,” she insisted.
Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but it was Grace who countered, “No, you're not, Melina. You're afraid he'll walk away and ask you to come with him. And you're not sure you love him enough to do it.”
Melina and Lucy stared at her. Lucy turned to Melina. “Is that true?”
“No. I mean…” Melina closed her eyes and forced herself to look deep within herself for the answer. She opened her eyes and glared at Grace. “God, I hate it when you do that.”
Lucy dropped onto the bed beside her. “I'm confused.”
“Well, so am I,” Melina snapped. Standing, she paced the small area between her bed and her dresser. “Grace is right. When we're together, I can't imagine being without him. But when we're apart, I can't imagine fitting into his world. I'm not even sure I want to. Sure, it sounds exciting, but I'm a homebody at heart. I'd like to travel more, but only if I have a home to come back to. Someplace to raise my children and make memories. I know now that Rhys wants some version of that, too, but I just can't see myself on the road or on the sea, hanging out in the shadows and waiting for him to finish one performance after another.”
“So all this time, it hasn't been about whether you could satisfy him or whether he could love you,” Lucy said. “You're saying that even if those things are golden, you're still not sure it'll work out?”
“Those things were definitely real fears, but even without them, yes. I guess I am saying that.”
For the first time Melina could remember, Lucy didn't seem to know what to say.
That was so not okay.
“So what do I do?” Melina cried.
Grace knelt in front of her and took her hands in hers. “You're already doing it, sweetie. You're leaving your world and venturing into his. No speculating about what it's like anymore. No wondering whether you'll like it. One way or another, you're going to find out the answer to that pop quiz. Being with him would require you to change your whole life. If you decide you don't want to do that, then he's not the guy for you. So what? Maybe Jamie is.”
“Please.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “She just got through saying she wasn't settling for passionless sex again. Professor Jamie Whitcomb isn't the type to inspire passion in any woman. He's too damn arrogant and uptight for his own good.”
Melina studied her friend, forgetting her own troubles for a second. “Where's all this hostility coming from? I thought you barely knew Jamie.”
“Oh, I know him all right.”
When she didn't elaborate, Melina turned to Grace.
“Turns out the dean wants Lucy's department represented at the conference tomorrow, as well,” Grace explained. “Since Jamie's coordinating it...”
Melina gasped. Holy shit. The conference. She gripped Grace's hands. “The conference. I'm supposed to speak with Jamie. He's depending on me.”
Lucy waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like anyone'll miss you.” She didn't miss Melina's glare. “You know what I mean. You've got a PowerPoint presentation set up, right? Either Jamie can pick up the slack or someone else can.”
“You,” Melina said at the same time she thought it.
Looking at her like she was crazy, Lucy laughed and held out her hand. “Excuse me? I don't think so. I have to attend the conference—against my will, I might add—in order to network at the reception. But I wasn't planning on attending any of the presentations beforehand.”
“You can do my presentation with your hands tied behind your back. You're a quick study, and you have no problem speaking in public.”
“I'm not an entomologist,” Lucy exclaimed, beginning to look a little panicked. “I don't know a thing about bugs.”
Melina rushed to her desk in the living room and returned to the bedroom with a folder, neatly organized and tabbed. “You don't have to. Like you said, everything's set up. You just have to read my notes. Please, Lucy?”
“I-I…” Looking like a hunted rabbit, Lucy turned to Grace.
“I'm out of town that day,” Grace said quickly.
“Please, Lucy. He's not my soul mate, but I like Jamie and respect him. I can't just ditch him. This conference is a huge deal and, as the organizer, he's going to be swamped. Do this for me, and I'll owe you, I promise.”
“You'll owe me, huh?” Lucy said, still looking like she'd rather eat dirt.
Melina just nodded and held out the folder.
With a sigh, Lucy took it. “Fine. I'll keep you in Jamie's good graces just in case you decide you don't want Rhys as much as you thought.”
“It's not Rhys I'm unsure about,” Melina insisted. “Not anymore.”
“Honey, it's all part of the package, right? You can't have Rhys without all the rest.”
After her friends left, Melina thought about what Lucy had said. She thought about it as she finished packing. She thought about it when she boarded the plane the next morning. And she thought about it as she walked outside to meet Rhys.
When she saw Rhys, she dropped her luggage and ran into his arms, almost crying with relief when his arms wrapped around her and pulled her in close. She lifted her face to kiss him just as his mouth covered hers. His tongue sank into her mouth, stealing her breath and her sanity until she finally pulled away.
She opened her mouth and tried to say it: I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If that means going on the road or living out of a suitcase for the rest of my life, I'll do it. Instead, she just kissed him again.
“You ready to get to work?” he asked with a grin.
She forced a smile. “You tie me up. You work your magic. I just need to smile and look pretty, right? How hard can it be?”
* * *
Jillian knocked on the dressing room door even louder this time. “Aren't you ready yet?”
Melina stared at herself in the full-length mirror, cringing at what she saw. The sparkly outfit that Jillian was trying to alter to fit her form was her exact size, only Rhys's runaway assistant had obviously had more to love on top than she did. Instead of enhancing her minimal curves, the droopy neckline made her look flatter than an ironing board, and the minuscule skirt made her thighs look like tree trunks.
“I told you, it doesn't fit,” Melina called out again, wondering if the woman was hard of hearing.
“Of course it doesn't,” Jillian called, her voice clearly reflecting her impatience. “I'm not done with it yet. Now come out here so you can get back to practice.”
Melina groaned. Practice. Right.
She and Rhys had been practicing ever since they'd arrived from the airport. Not that he was a slave driver. He'd given her plenty of breaks, for food and for nookie, but as soon as they started practicing again, it was all business. Her body ached from having to stretch out and hang for so long from the Metamorphosis apparatus, and she was jittery because of the way Rhys repeatedly ran his hands up and down her body.
“Usually I don't think anything of doing this,” he'd said. “It's all just in a day's work.” Before she could snort and call him a liar, he kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, “Doing it to you reminds me of something.”
She'd swallowed and breathed out, “What's that?”
“I owe you for torturing me when I was tied up. When you're spread out in front me and unable to do anything but beg for me to take you, remember that.”
Closing her eyes, she licked her lips. “I'm doing you a favor here. I don't think threats are appropriate at this point. Besides, I thought you liked what we did.”
He'd just chuckled and backed off, releasing her to wardrobe.
Knowing she couldn't put it off any longer, she opened the door and peeked out. Jillian whirled around and waved her closer. “Come on out so I can see what I'm working with.”
Reluctantly, Melina stepped into view.
Instead of laughing her ass off, as Melina had expected, Jillian nodded. “Good. That's good.”
“Good?” Melina echoed in astonishment. “I look like a pear shoved into a seventies-era tube top.”
“You leave it to me. By the time I'm done with this costume, you'll look like you were born to walk that stage.”
“Yeah, except I won't be doing much walking. More like hanging,” she mumbled, then felt like a whiny fool. She was hanging with Rhys and for Rhys, that's all that should matter.
It was if Jillian could read her mind. “Yes, well, that's what women do for the men they love.”
Melina automatically shook her head. “I'm just doing a friend a favor.”
Now Jillian did laugh. “Okay, honey. But don't worry about it. It doesn't matter that they've never dated anyone more than six weeks. We all fall in love with one of those boys at some time or another. Not all of us are lucky enough to get that love returned, that's all.”
“From what I hear, they've done plenty of loving to go around.”
Jillian shot her a disappointed look. “You are supposed to be the smart one, right?”
Before Melina could do more than gasp, Rhys's mother, Rachel, swept in. They'd already visited several times, but it was still a nice surprise to see her again. The way she hugged Melina suggested she felt the same. “So what do you think, Jillian? Didn't we tell you Melina is an absolute doll?”
Nodding, Jillian tugged at Melina's dress and adjusted pins here and there. “She sure is. A little dubious about your boys' reputation with the ladies, but other than that, she's fine by me.”
Melina blushed and tried to stammer out a reply, but Jillian just planted her hands on her hips and eyed her up and down. “Yep. The crowd's going to love her,” she declared.
“Let's just hope Seven Seas does.” Rhys's mother looked at her watch. “You've got enough time for one more rehearsal, Melina, but Rhys says you've caught on really fast. He's quite impressed with you, young lady.”
“What's Rhys doing now?” she asked, trying to appear only casually interested.
“He's rehearsing on the main stage with Max and the other girls.”
“Can I go in and watch?”
“Of course!” Rachel exclaimed. “You're one of the crew now.”
One of the crew. As Melina peeled out of her horrid costume and dressed, a smile crept across her face. Despite some lingering nerves, part of her was starting to feel like part of the crew. Everyone was friendly and had welcomed her with open arms, chattering with her about their families and the excitement they felt about getting the Seven Seas contract.
As she rushed to the main stage, Melina thought about what Jillian had said. That everyone fell in love with Rhys or Max at some point, but only a special few were lucky enough to have that love returned. She'd known Rhys and Max loved her since she was fourteen years old. Despite the ups and downs between them, she'd known she could count on them if she ever needed them. Her presence proved they could do the same.
Taking care to be quiet as she opened the heavy doors to the theater, she sneaked into the very back row and watched as Rhys performed one trick after another. There were two other female assistants who assisted in the act. Having hung from the Metamorphosis apparatus and seen Rhys's complicated new trick for herself, she now knew why he required a female assistant of shorter stature. That wasn't true for his other tricks.
The two other girls, introduced to her as Amanda and Tina, were close to six feet, their bodies thin yet curvy, especially in the chest area. Amanda had long, multi-hued blonde hair, and Tina had a wavy red bob that looked perpetually disheveled. They were model gorgeous, and it would have been easy to hate them both but for the fact they were extremely nice and down-to-earth. Amanda had a degree in nursing, and Tina wore crystals and had offered to give Melina a tarot reading. She liked them, even if they did make her feel like the dumpy nerd who didn't quite belong.
With a flourish, Rhys finished one trick, then switched places with Max, who'd been sitting in a chair at the side of the stage. She hadn't spent a lot of time with Max, other than to scold him, then kiss him, for what he'd done at the hotel. She hadn't brought up Trisha or the incident from twelve years ago, and neither had Rhys. Still, she could tell Max was feeling awkward about things. He was more quiet than usual and, except for rehearsals, he kept mostly to himself. She'd asked Rhys about it, but he'd just shrugged, saying Max could be moody but that he'd eventually snap out of it.
The music cued and another trick began, everyone flowing around the stage like they were born to be there. At one point, Rhys called out for them to stop, and he and Max discussed something while the girls left the stage. Melina felt so proud as she watched them. They were good at what they did, and it was obvious that while Max and Rhys were a team, Rhys made things happen. He kept things running. He was the heart of the Dalton Twins’ Magic Act. Without him, it couldn't possibly survive. More important, he clearly loved what he did. Being around his family and performing with them gave him a spark and vitality that had been missing before, even when he'd been relaxed and having fun in Lake Shasta.
Knowing she didn't have much time before she'd be called to the stage herself, Melina got to her feet and quietly made her way toward the exit. She was almost there when she saw Amanda and Tina return.
They were topless, their big breasts round and thrust out for everyone to see. Rhys and Max glanced up, then kept talking, obviously unfazed by their nudity.
Melina, on the other hand, felt the ground drop out from under her. Bracing herself with a shaky hand, she slowly lowered herself into another seat. She watched as Max performed one illusion after another, the whole time keeping at least one of the girls close. He touched them often, almost absently, a hand on a hip here, or a caress against the side of a breast there. Melina knew it was all for show—that it didn't mean anything to any of them—but she couldn't help thinking of the way Rhys had touched her when they'd practiced, too. And even though it wasn't him touching the girls now, she knew he and Max traded off performing every trick, so he'd touched them at some point and would continue to do so.
Someone touched her shoulder, and she jerked her head around. Rhys stood beside her, his mouth grim. “Hey,” he said.
She turned back to the stage. “Hi,” she whispered.
He lowered himself to the seat beside her and sighed. “I warned you there were a couple of acts that contained nudity, Melina.”
Nodding, she licked her lips. “Yeah. You did. You didn't tell me how often you got to cop a feel, though.” As soon as the bitter words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back. But she couldn't. And she couldn't pretend it wasn't how she felt. Not so much because the touching was sexual or even offensive, but because it seemed to highlight just how different their lives really were.
He lightly grasped her arms and turned her to face him. “It's just an act. The equivalent of an on-screen kiss. It doesn't mean anything.”
“I know that.” But it means something to me, she thought. And this is what he'd be doing, night after night, while I wait for him. While I give up my life for him. She was an insecure person during the best of times. How low would she stoop if she had to imagine Rhys's hands on another woman's body every night?
She stood. “I was just going to get something to eat before we rehearse. What time should I be back?”
“Melina, can we talk about this?”
“There's nothing to talk about,” she said with a thin smile. “This is your life, and there's nothing wrong with it. Now what time do you want me back?”
“We'll rehearse in an hour. Does that work?”
“An hour's good.”
She tried to move past him, but there wasn't enough room unless she wanted to squeeze by and brush against him. Knowing it was silly, she turned and walked down the other side of the aisle, slipping outside through another door.
She didn't look back, but she never got something to eat, either. Instead, feeling more like an outsider than ever, she wandered the streets outside the theater until she came to a nest of shops. One in particular caught her eye, and she stopped to stare at the display window.
The mannequin decked out in leather should have looked ridiculous, but to Melina it represented the daring, almost surreal nature of Rhys's celebrity lifestyle. Foreign. Exotic. Out of reach.
Yet, she reminded herself that she'd been enjoying her time here. That she'd begun to acclimate to his world. So what if she'd suffered a slight bump in the road? Why couldn't she don the leather outfit in the window just as she had Jillian's stage costume? Although it probably wouldn't feel right at first, she'd eventually grow accustomed to it. Wouldn't she?
At the very least, Rhys would know she was willing to try. Maybe, regardless of her reaction to his topless assistants, things could work out for them.
Maybe she just needed to prove it to herself, and this hollow feeling of despair would vanish forever.
But if she was going to take risks, she wasn't going to be the only one. Rhys had allowed himself to be vulnerable when he'd let her tie him up, but things had gotten significantly more complicated since then. If she was going to strip herself bare for him, then he was going to do the same. Only then would she believe the depth of his feelings for her.
With newfound resolve, Melina walked into the store.
* * *
That night, after rehearsal was finally over, Rhys practically speed-walked back to his hotel. He was exhausted. Hungry. Grumpy. None of that compared to the desperate need he had to see Melina and confirm that things were okay between them.
When he'd noticed her at the back of the theater, her eyes on Max and the topless assistants, he'd felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. She'd looked so sad. Defeated. Nothing like the woman who'd been gamely trying to adjust to the foreign world she'd been shoved into.
He'd been a mess after that. Distracted. Edgy. But when she'd shown up for practice, Melina had seemed to be back to her regular self. She'd laughed when he'd teased her, and she'd given him a nice, long kiss before she'd left the theater, saying she'd have a surprise for him back at the room.
Now, two hours later, all he wanted was to crawl into Melina's arms. He wasn't even nervous about tomorrow's show. Whatever the outcome, he just wanted to know what his future with Melina had in store.
He was going to do what he should have done a long time ago. He was going to give Melina a choice—home and hearth, or him. And it didn't matter whether it was fair or not, but he was going to do everything in his power to make sure she chose him.
When he opened the door to their suite, he did so quietly, in case Melina was sleeping. Sure enough, the bedroom was dark, quiet except for the steady buzz of the air conditioner. He shut the door, then flicked on the bathroom light so he could undress. When he saw Melina, he froze.
“Melina?”
Music with a slow, hip-thrusting beat began to play. From her seat in the corner, Melina stood and walked toward him, her hips swaying exaggeratedly, her steps keeping time with the music. He nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw the crisscrossed laces running between her plumped-up breasts. Was she wearing a corset?
She was. It wasn't just any corset, either. It was made of soft black leather that molded itself to her curves. She wore a matching dog collar and wrist bands; no spikes, thank God, just silver eyelets that matched the ones on her chest. Makeup, more makeup than he'd ever seen her wear, layered her face, making her look like a stranger. A beautiful, tempting, lustful stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.
She looked at him challengingly, crooked her finger, and urged him closer.
He didn't move. “Where'd you get that?” he asked hoarsely.
“There are plenty of shops around.” Spreading her legs wide, she planted her fists on her hips, a cocky, Superwoman stance that called attention to the four-inch spike heels she was wearing. “What do you think?”
What did he think? Not much, since all his blood had rushed straight to his dick. “You look...” He paused, knowing “like a stranger” wasn't the right thing to say. “Hot. You look hot. But you'll be even more hot when you're naked.”
She pouted and shook her head. “Nice of you to say, but I'm not the one who's going to be stripping down. You are.”
“Oh, am I?” He couldn't help but think of the night he'd walked into his Sacramento hotel room and found her waiting for him. Other than the unexpectedness of it, that had felt right. Something here was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
“Yep.” Pulling out a chair, she slowly turned it until she could straddle it, her legs spread wide, the bottomless crotch of her outfit revealing that tiny strip of hair that drove him mad. He hissed in a breath and started jerking at buttons.
Whatever the hell was going on here, they'd deal with it. Afterward. Ripping off his shirt, he stalked closer.
“Stop,” she commanded.
He did, even as he clenched his fists and sucked in air like a locomotive.
“Perform for me. Strip for me.” Her voice sounded harsh. Demanding. A little bitchy. Even as his erection lengthened, a part of him resisted.
“It's been a long night, baby. I don't think I'm up—”
“Oh, you're up, all right. And you're going to stay up. For as long as I want you to be. Now strip.”
Hands shaking, he unbuttoned his pants and swept them off, along with his socks and shoes. When he was done, he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes half-hooded. “Now what?”
She stood and pointed to the chair she'd vacated. “Now you sit here. Put your hands behind your back.”
“Melina—”
“Do it.”
He sighed and sat down. Immediately, she straddled him, rubbing her sweet flesh against his dick, making him wet with her juices even as she raised up on her tiptoes, shoved her chest under his chin, and leaned forward to bind his wrists together. He bent his head to nuzzle her and breathe in her scent when it dawned on him that she wasn't using scarves but handcuffs. “What—”
He rattled the handcuffs, but she shook her head. She tauntingly held a key out to him. “Uh-uh. No tricks tonight, Rhys. It's just you and me. Remember how you said I tortured you? Well, I'm finding that one taste isn't enough for me. I want to torture you some more.”
He'd never been so pissed off and so turned on at the same time. Clenching his teeth, he reminded her, “You're due for some torturing yourself. More and more with each second that passes. Now, get these off me.”
“What's wrong? The magician can't get them off himself? Looks like you'll just have to take what I dish out.”
She sank to her knees in front of him, pushing apart his thighs, and positioned herself between them.
He tightened them around her warningly, not enough to hurt her but enough to let her know he wasn't playing. “Release me. Now, Melina. I'm not kidding.”
She moved her hands to the curve of his ass and dared to dip her finger into the crevice. Then she leaned down, looking up at him the whole time, and took him in her mouth. She ate him like she was starved for it. She licked him like he was an ice cream cone and she was burning up. She cupped his balls and raked her fingertips up the length of him even as she worked the tip of him with her tongue, alternately flicking him and then sucking him. She gave him head like she'd been doing it for years, seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day, practicing it time and again in preparation for this very moment so she could drive him utterly insane.
When his shouts of pleasure faded, she wiped her mouth, caught a drop of cum that had managed to elude her, then licked it off. He groaned, barely able to move, and not just because of the cuffs. “Kiss me,” he whispered, needing to be close to her. Needing something that he couldn't even name.
To his astonishment, she shook her head. Smoothing out her corset, she sauntered in her four-inch fuck-me heels to the bathroom. When she returned, she was carrying a crop. His eyes widened in disbelief.
“I picked up a few other things while I was out.” She brought the crop down on her ass and pouted. “Maybe if you're a good boy, you can spank me later.”
It was all too much for him. The makeup. Her cool taunting. The way she refused to kiss him or give him an ounce of her softness. With a powerful surge, he stood. As he did, his bound hands slipped over the chair back and, in a move that left Melina gaping at him, he slipped his bound hands in front of him.
She blinked her eyes several times, as if she wasn't quite sure what had happened. “How'd you—”
“I guess you didn't know I was double-jointed. It's come in handy a time or two.” He held his arms out and pinned her with a furious glare. “Unlock them.”
She shook her head, backing away from him. When she bumped into the door, he grabbed her wrists in his hands and raised them above her head. Then, with a tug, he pulled her around and threw her onto the bed. He had her covered with his body and pinned down in less than three seconds.
“What the hell was that about?” he gritted out, trying to regain control even though his wrists were still manacled.
She struggled beneath him, her attempts to get away very real. “Unpredictability,” she spat. “I thought you'd like it.”
“The outfit I like. But not the makeup. Not the attitude. I don't want to fuck a sexy stranger. I want to fuck you. I fucking love you, Melina. Don't you get that by now?”
The fight left her immediately, and tears filled her eyes. “What do you want from me? I'm trying to fit in. I'm trying to give you the excitement the other women in your life have given you.”
He clenched his teeth. “No one has given me what you have, Melina. No one. You make me feel things that no one else can. Right now, that includes making me fucking furious, but I love you all the same. That's not going to change, and you don't have to change who you are because you're afraid it will.”
“But that's because we're here and because it's all new. What happens when you realize I don't fit in? What happens when you lose interest? ’Cause you will lose interest, Rhys. You always do.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You've never dated someone more than six weeks.”
“Who told you that crap?”
She pressed her lips together.
Abruptly, Rhys released her and stood. Warily, silently, she retrieved the keys and released the handcuffs. He dressed. When he fastened his belt, he turned to her.
“I noticed you didn't respond to my declaration of love. How am I supposed to interpret that?”
She sat up. Reached for her robe and put it on. “I've told you before that I love you.”
“Yeah, but at the same time you said you love Max. So what's it going to be Melina? I love you. I know my life isn't what you would choose, but I have other people to consider. I want to know: Do you love me and do you want to be a part of my life, whatever that entails?”
“Whatever that entails.” She sniffed derisively. “You don't ask for much, do you?”
His shoulders dropped, and he stared at the floor. “And that's not a very encouraging answer, is it?”
“You can't just—”
They both jumped when someone pounded on the door. “Rhys! Melina. Open up. We've got trouble.”
It was Max. Melina jumped to her feet as Rhys answered the door.
Max strode in. After taking in Melina's makeup and eyebrow-raising outfit, as well as their grim expressions, he shook his head. “Great. I can see things are going swell in here, too.”
“What is it?”
Max eyes radiated regret. “Someone got into the theater after practice. I came back because I'd forgotten to lock up and…”
“And what?” Rhys prompted.
“And the Metamorphosis rack's been destroyed.”
Melina gasped and immediately covered her mouth with both hands.
“What?” Rhys whispered. He dropped into the chair that still sat prominently displayed in the center of the room. He saw Melina move toward him, then stop. That hurt more than what Max had to say next.
“Someone took an ax to it. It's in pieces. There's no way you'll be able to fix it. Not before the show tomorrow.”
* * *
Two days later, Melina was in her lab, trying to focus on her current experiment. It was a little tough when her eyes kept tearing up and she had to excuse herself yet again so she could cry in private.
She'd called Max first thing this morning, and he'd told her that Seven Seas had decided to book the Salvador brothers as their permanent act. When Melina had asked about Rhys, Max had laughed bitterly. “Rhys's gonna be fine, Melina. He'll bounce back with something that will make Seven Seas come crawling back to us on their knees, I guarantee it. Recovering from what you did to him isn't going to be quite so easy.”
She'd stiffened at the censure in his tone. “Me? I didn't—”
“You couldn't get away from here fast enough, could you? The moment you weren't needed for the act, you left.”
“I talked to you and Rhys. I asked you if you needed me for anything, and you both said no. Rhys wouldn't even talk to me.”
“He was upset, and when he's upset he withdraws. That's just how he is. He told me what happened in your room before I interrupted.”
She sucked in her breath, appalled. Rhys had told Max about her corset and crop? The handcuffs? She nearly moaned in horror, but Max kept talking.
“He told me he asked you to stay with him. That he loved you. And that you threw it back in his face.”
“I-I didn't,” she protested. “I did no such thing. I just…I just didn't have a chance to answer. You came into the room and everything was a mess and—”
“And you got on a plane and flew home. That was your answer, Melina. And Rhys knows it.”
By the time she'd hung up with Max, Melina had almost been paralyzed with doubt. She'd only wanted to get home so she could think, but had getting on the plane been her answer? Wasn't she entitled to think things through before she changed her life so drastically? She was still questioning herself, what she'd done, and what she wanted when she returned to the lab. Instead of work flying by like it normally did, the hours passed painfully slow, and even then she'd gotten next to nothing done.
When she got home, she had a message on her machine. Her heart beating fast, she played it back, hoping it was Rhys. It was her mother, telling her to call her right away.
Melina picked up the phone and dialed the number her mother had left.
Her mother answered the phone.
“Hi, Mom,” she said.
“Hi, honey. Thanks for calling me back. We'll only have access to a phone for a couple of days until the Vietnam tour starts.”
“Vietnam? I thought you were still in China?”
“We left China days ago, dear. Now, tell me, how are you?”
Melina swallowed hard and tried to answer calmly. Instead, she released a ragged, pain-filled sob.
“Oh, no. Honey, what's wrong?”
It all poured out of her. Her feelings for Rhys. The challenge Grace had thrown down. Max’s set up with the rooms. The lake and the incredible sex and the way Melina had alternately felt welcomed and alienated once they'd arrived in Reno. By the time she'd stopped talking, her voice was raspy. There was only silence on the other end of the line.
Melina covered her eyes with her hand, appalled that she'd just unloaded on her quiet, reserved mother, especially when she was so far away and couldn't do anything to help anyway. “It's okay,” she reassured her. “I'm okay. I just need to accept who I am and what I want. You did that. That's why you left acting, isn't it? Because you were more suited to the type of life Daddy led.”
“Oh, please, Melina,” her mother said. “You don't really believe that, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I did not leave acting because that life didn't suit me. I left it because I thought that’s what I needed to do in order to keep your father. His parents were very conservative and didn't approve of acting. To them, it was the same thing as being a whore. I wanted their approval almost as much as I wanted your father. So I gave up my passion for acting and was fortunate to be blessed with a different kind of passion.”
“Passion again,” she murmured. Her mother was describing exactly what Melina had told Lucy didn't exist. Inside her, hope fluttered its wings like a butterfly just emerging from its cocoon. “So that's what I should do? I mean, you're obviously happy. You don't have regrets—”
Her mother laughed. “Honey, I have plenty of regrets. And I'm certainly not telling you to follow in my footsteps and give up your life just to be with Rhys.”
“So you're saying I was right to come back?”
“No.”
“No,” Melina echoed. Frustration made her next words harsher than she intended. “Well, what are you saying, Mom? Because I need to know what's the right thing to do.”
“There is no right or wrong answer, Melina. Things will be what you demand they be.”
Pulling the phone from her ear, she stared at it, certain a foreign creature must have inhabited her mother's body. Her mother didn't talk like that. Rhys did.
Walking into the living room, she put the phone back to her ear. “I don't understand,” she breathed. She picked up the picture of Max and Rhys with their dates, the one she'd focused on before propositioning Max. “I'm looking at a picture of Rhys and Max after they won their award in Vegas. They're with their dates, and I…I'm having a hard time picturing myself with them.”
“That's because you're looking at the wrong picture. You've got tons of pictures with just you and Rhys. Pull those out and look at them. Ask yourself what you see.”
“I know what I'll see. Me. As plain and boring as ever.” But she wasn't a dominatrix either, at least not one who liked to wear leather and use a crop. Not when Rhys wasn't into it. Even now, she winced at how she'd treated him, acting cold because she'd wanted him to feel as vulnerable as she did.
“If that's what you see, you're focusing on the wrong person. Instead of focusing on yourself, focus on Rhys. Then ask yourself what you see.”
“But Mom—”
“I'm sorry, sweetie, but I have to go. I love you.”
Her mother hung up, leaving Melina to ponder her final words. She put down the framed picture of Rhys and Max, and pulled out the boxes of loose photos she kept under her bed. Then she laid a bunch out, pulling out the ones that showed her with Rhys. Since she'd known him for years, there were enough to cover her queen bedspread. She walked around the bed, studying them, trying to ignore her own image and whether she looked fat or was having a bad-hair day. She focused on Rhys, on the expression on his face, on the way he was often looking at her rather than at the camera lens.
And she saw exactly what her mother had wanted her to see.
She saw the difference between the Rhys in her photos and the one in the frame in her living room. She saw the difference in his expression. She saw the happiness that she brought to him. The same happiness that he'd always made her feel.
She called her mother back immediately.
“Mom, I know you have to go, but can I just say one thing?”
“Sure, honey.”
“I'm a fool.”
Her mother laughed. “All scientists must eventually face that which eludes them. Usually, that's right before a grand discovery changes their lives.”
“Do you regret giving up your acting for Dad?”
“Yes. But do I regret my life with your father? Not at all. I shortchanged myself, and in doing so I shortchanged your father. You certainly don't need to do the same. I'm sure you can find a way to make your lives mesh into something you'll both be happy with.”