Page 32 of Temptation and Treachery
Chapter Fifteen
The building didn’t smell like any gym Celeste ever visited. The worn hallway held some light citrus cleaner and a hint of leather. Kari led her to a doorway at the right, dropping her clothes on a wooden bench by the entrance. A dozen shower stalls, in two rows, took up the center of the room.
“The place wasn’t built with women in mind.” Kari patted the white-tiled walls stopping around mid-chest. “But if we face away from each other, we can have some privacy.” She went to the other side and pulled her shirt over her head. Celeste undressed in silence, hanging her towel on a hook outside the nearest stall before turning on the water. “Oh crap.” Kari set shampoo and body wash on the wall between them. “With all the hair, I should have gotten you another towel.”
“Don’t worry,” Celeste said, ducking under the spray. “I’ll make do.”
“Nah.” Kari pulled on her top. “The towels aren’t the best. I can barely manage, and my hair’s a lot shorter.” Her boots clomped on the cement floor. “Ugh, what I wouldn’t give for a pair of slip-ons right now.” She propped her foot on the bench, next to Celeste’s clothes, pulling at the laces. Celeste turned, giving Kari her back. “There we go. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Celeste worked the shampoo through her hair, letting the hot water drain away some of her tension along with the bubbles. She was running a soapy hand towel over her body when the door slammed, echoing throughout the building. Kari’s determined steps came closer.
“Where’d you learn to tell time?” Rio’s voice boomed from a few feet away.
Eyes wide, she covered her breasts and glanced over her shoulder. “I-I’m almost done.”
A loud clank came from down the hall. Rio scoffed. “Damn it, Parker.”
“Kari?” She shut off the water.
“Yeah.” He ran a hand over his hair. “We got set up. Parker told me you couldn’t use the shower because one of the guys was in here.”
She reached around, trying to find the towel, but her fingers fumbled over the bare metal hook. She turned, finding nothing but wet tile. Rio’s words sunk in. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath.
Pulling her hair to one side, she twisted it to wring out as much water as possible. Rio stood like a giant, taking up a good portion of her peripheral vision. “The tan looks good on you,” he said in a gentle voice.
Oh God. And he’d been the one to see all of her. Had he thought he suffered through sleeping with her, for his job? Hunching her shoulders, she let her head drop back.
“But I thought your skin was beautiful before.” The words sounded so sincere, they sent her into a tailspin.
“Stop it.” She couldn’t even tell what was real anymore.
Vix popped up, frowning at her for the outburst. Celeste glared at her alter ego. Whose side are you on? Following Vix was the whole reason she was in this mess. No, she lost some of her steam; she’d wanted to step outside herself for just one day. To live the life her readers thought she led. And she’d gotten more than she expected.
“Here.” He walked toward her, and she turned, her eyes bugging out when he pulled off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a strangled voice. Rio, all smooth, hard muscle was temptation itself. She couldn’t stop her eyes from raking back and forth across his chest.
“I’m giving you something to put on.” His navy-blue T-shirt hung off the end of his fingers. Could she literally wrap herself in something covered in his scent? Her knees felt weak even thinking about it. She reached out an unsteady hand, snatching the shirt to her chest. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The soothing tone managed to fan her temper.
“You’ve done enough of that already.” Giving him her back, she pulled on the shirt. When her head popped through the collar, she found him standing next to her.
“I’m sorry if I did…hurt you.” He shook his head. “But this job, is me. It’s my life.”
The sincerity in those heartfelt words made her want to scream. Hey, nothing personal. Sex with you was part of the job, baby. No, he’d stopped calling her that when he realized she was up for “fucking”. Setting her jaw, she glared at him.
“You didn’t have to—” She bit off the rest. He didn’t have to what? Make a fool of her? Make her believe? Make her fall for him? She wanted to squirm where she stood.
“Please, don’t hate the baby because of me.”
She fumbled for words. Now he expected her to hate her own child?
“No.” She shook her head. “He’ll be protected from all of this.” With Oz in jail, she’d be on her own. And as for the baby’s father… “I’ll come up with something,” she snapped. “Anything’s got to be better than ‘your father screwed me to lock up grandpa.’”
“What?” The word boomed loud enough to make her step back. His expression went neutral, though his face turned something close to brick red. “What happened between us has nothing to do with your father.”
“If you say so.” But doubt churned in her stomach. Either he was one hell of an actor, or she just might be wrong. Her heart pounded, hope struggling to stay alive.
“That was all you, sweetheart.” He stepped toward her, and she stepped back, needing space between them. “We didn’t know Ayala had a daughter until yesterday.”
