The next afternoon Maya searched the hospital lobby for Cort. They were supposed to meet to take Sawyer home. She caught sight of him standing near the front window, out of the hustle and bustle, watching everything and everyone.
Cort spied her immediately and nodded. She hurried over to him, a little uncomfortable with his attention fixed on her, feeling as if he was sizing her up.
“Everything okay?” Cort asked as she approached him.
“Fine, thanks. I’ve fed Joey, so he’ll be set for a few hours, although I’ll probably check on him again before we go.”
“Great.” He flicked her a smile, not attempting to hide the head-to-toe once-over he gave her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard to believe you just had a baby. Sawyer was right. You’ve grown up.”
“Thanks, I think,” Maya said, not quite sure how to take him.
“It was a compliment. When I first saw you yesterday, I wouldn’t have recognized you if Sawyer hadn’t described you so…accurately.”
Unabashed, Maya looked directly at him. “I don’t even want to think about what he must have told you about me.”
“He said that not only had you become a beautiful woman but a strong one, too. You’ve really been up against it lately, but you’re still smiling.”
Maya shrugged. “It’s either that or jump off a cliff.”
“Not much of a choice there,” Cort said, laughing, a deep, throaty sound, more subdued than his brother’s but every bit as sexy.
“I didn’t have any trouble recognizing you either,” she told him. “You look enough like Sawyer to be his twin.”
“Don’t tell him that. He likes to think he’s the good-looking one.”
“Telling her lies already, I see.” Sawyer spoke up behind them. The nurse pushing his wheelchair parked him next to Maya and Cort, and Sawyer immediately stood up, ignoring the nurse’s frown. “They wouldn’t let me go unless I rode in that thing. Can we get out of here now?”
“You go ahead. I’ll be there as soon as I say goodbye to Joey,” Maya said and quickly started toward the elevator.
“I’ll help you with Joey’s stuff,” Sawyer said, catching up to her in a few long strides.
“Um…thanks, but—” she nodded at his sling “—I don’t think your shoulder is going to let you be much help. Besides, I’ve already loaded most of it.”
“Oh.” Sawyer stood a moment, silent. He felt a little embarrassed in front of his brother for rushing to Maya’s aid. “Sure. I’ll catch up with you out front,” he mumbled, turning back to face Cort’s smirk. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
They stood side by side watching the sway of Maya’s hips as she walked into the elevator. She was still wearing a loose blouse, but it didn’t cover the back of her slim-fitting hip-hugger jeans.
“She’s hot,” Cort said, eyeing her appreciatively.
“Dammit, Cort, the woman just had a baby. Have some decency.”
Cort shrugged. “She’s still hot.”
“You’re hopeless, you know that?”
Cort slapped Sawyer on the back as they walked out into the bright desert sun. “Yeah, and you’re deaf, dumb and blind. Not.”
Sawyer shoved his sunglasses on his face, covering the “busted” look in his eyes he knew his brother would see in a heartbeat. “Just find the car and get us out of here, will you?”
Maya had brought her own car and so followed Cort and Sawyer to the north end of town, where the homes were located in a gated community and set on expansive lots. They followed a narrow winding drive to another private gate. She waited while Cort pressed a code into a security box, then led her to a parking area in front of Sawyer’s sprawling hacienda. One glance at the huge Mexican carved double doors and the elegant desert landscaping and she knew the place was everything she’d imagined…and feared.
Why did she feel so uncertain coming here? She knew she could help Sawyer if he would swallow his pride for half a second and let her. And she felt she owed him something because her parents’ lifestyle was part of the reason he needed help in the first place.
But a lonely, sleepless night in a cold motel room had amplified her insecurities about coming into Sawyer Morente’s world. It was a place that might as well be a foreign country to her. And she’d never felt more like an illegal alien.
Cort and Sawyer helped her haul her and Joey’s things into the house. Cort started to carry her bag, but Sawyer grabbed it first with his good arm.
“I can see I’m no longer needed,” he said. He dropped an armful of Joey’s things into a bassinet that had been moved into the guest room. “I need to get back to the station anyhow. Got a big drug bust about to break.”
Sawyer laid Maya’s bag on the luggage rack. “My brother claims I’m the daredevil. But who’s the one crashing in on guys with guns and knives who are a whole lot less than happy to see him?”
“At least I have the element of surprise on my side. What’s on your side when you hang glide into a canyon with only a backpack and a smile?”
Sawyer flashed him a cocky grin. “Luck, little bro.”
“Yeah. Luck. That’s why your shoulder’s in a sling.”
Despite her guilt over Sawyer’s accident, Maya had to laugh, deciding they were good for each other. She was glad Cort was there to buffer her increasing discomfort about being in Sawyer’s house. She looked around her lavishly appointed room and felt like a whore in church, not realizing Sawyer saw the disconcerted look on her face and mistook it for disapproval.
“Is everything okay?” he asked. “The room can be changed if you don’t like it. Or if you need anything, I’ll have it brought in. Regina, my housekeeper, has a bunch of kids. She said she found everything Joey needed.”
“Oh, no, it’s perfect,” Maya said, trying to sound appreciative. “We have more than we could want or need. Thank you. And please thank Regina, too.”
“Why am I getting the impression something’s wrong?”
Maya glanced at Cort, who was leaning in the doorway, watching them.
“Weren’t you leaving?” Sawyer didn’t hide the irritated edge in his voice. His shoulder and head were throbbing, and his patience with the whole situation was wearing thin. “You have bad guys to surprise, remember?”
“I’m going already.” Cort straightened and nodded to Maya. “Nice to see you again. Good luck.” He cocked his head toward Sawyer. “Living with him, you’re going to need it.”
“Finally,” Sawyer muttered.
Maya smiled. “You two seem to understand each other well enough.” She turned her back to him, unzipped her suitcase and began pulling clothing out.
“I understand him a lot better than I understand you.” Sawyer came up behind her and gently took her by the shoulder with his good hand, coaxing her to face him. “What’s the matter? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ it’s all there in your face.”
She sighed. “Everything is perfect, amazing really. This room, the bassinet, your house… Too perfect, I guess. You know how I grew up. I feel strange here. Out of place.” Shaking her head, she gave a rueful little laugh. “I guess I sound pretty silly.”
“Not silly at all.” Sawyer could have fallen into the depths of her eyes, so full of an almost painful honesty. “Want to know a secret?” he asked, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. His touch earned him a smile from her and he smiled back. “Most of the time I feel out of place here, too. It’s a long story, but I bought this house from my mother. She intended to move here, but then she got sick and it never happened. The only thing that’s really mine is that ratty old leather chair in the living room. As far as the house goes, that chair is pretty much where I live when I’m here, which is not often.”
“But the house is fabulous, all of it. You must have liked it enough that you bought it.”
Sawyer shrugged, the motion knifing his shoulder. He winced. “It’s comfortable enough, I guess. But to me it’s just a place to eat and sleep.”
“You’re in pain.” Maya laid her hand on his forearm. “Why don’t you rest while I make us something to eat?”
The warmth of her light touch distracted him, and Sawyer found himself studying the smooth curve of her cheek and the way the sunlight painted gold into her coppery hair. “Yeah, food sounds good. I don’t have much around here to cook, though. We could order Chinese.”
“Mmm…show me the kitchen and I’ll see what I can put together first.” She slid her hand around his good arm and encouraged him with a smile to lead on.
“I’d offer to help,” Sawyer said on the way, “but my idea of cooking is opening a can of chili and beans, wrapping them up in a tortilla and zapping it in the microwave. Regina left some tamales, but they’re long gone. Let’s see….” He opened the pantry and peered inside. “We have beans, beans and more beans. Oh, and one can of tomatoes.”
Maya, inspecting the fridge, bent to look in the vegetable drawer. “Do you have an onion?”
Sawyer turned around in time to see her blue-jeaned backside in an all too tempting pose. He quickly tore his eyes away. After reprimanding Cort only an hour earlier, he was now suddenly hit with all kinds of images of Maya—with and without her jeans—he had no business imagining.
“Other than beer, I have no idea what’s in there. Whatever Reggie left.”
“Ah, here!” She triumphantly held up an onion like a trophy. “And here’s garlic.” She bent over again and Sawyer inwardly groaned. “I see a couple of peppers. Perfect. I’ll make chili.”
Sawyer eyed the vegetables suspiciously. “How can you make chili out of that?”
“Have a little faith,” she said with a wink.
Half an hour later the scent of roasted peppers and garlic lured Sawyer from where he sat in his favorite chair halfheartedly sorting through his mail. His stomach churned and growled as he walked into the kitchen. “That smells great.”
Maya turned from the stove, a simple grace in her movement. He’d never seen a woman, except for Reggie, at his stove. The few women he’d dated didn’t cook, claiming they had better things to do with their time. But the sight of Maya, all curves and femininity, looking so at home in his kitchen, contented even, moved him somewhere deep inside. Seeing her happy and smiling satisfied some primal protective urge he couldn’t ever recall feeling before.
She turned, a satisfied curve to her lips. “Even without the meat?” she teased. “Never mind. If you point me to the dishes, I’ll set the table.”
“I think I can manage at least that.”
They ate hungrily, downing the pot of chili and several tortillas in record time.
“My appetite is huge since Joey was born,” Maya said with a repentant smile a little while later as she looked at her empty dish. “It’s the breast-feeding. I’m ravenous 24-7. Although I admit, sometimes I eat just to stay awake.”
Sawyer didn’t quite know how to respond. She was so casual about it all. To her, everything about taking care of a baby was all so natural. To him, it seemed a complete mystery, along the same lines as trying to perform brain surgery blindfolded.
“I have to admit,” he said, after weighing possible responses and choosing to avoid the subject, “that chili was delicious. For weed-lover’s fare, that is.”
“You didn’t even miss the meat,” Maya chided him. “I’ll bet I could convert you, given enough time.”
“Neither of us is going to live long enough for that,” Sawyer told her flatly.
Laughing, she said, “Careful, that sounded like a dare to me.” Then she shook her head when he stood up and started reaching for the empty dishes. “Don’t worry about these. There aren’t many. Why don’t you go lie down and rest for a while?”
“You’re the one who needs the rest,” Sawyer said, but he let her take the dishes from him. He wouldn’t admit it to her, but the pain in his shoulder made even a simple thing like clearing the table a big chore. And feeling awkward and useless wasn’t helping his headache.
“Did they give you pain meds at the hospital?” Maya asked him as she put the dishes in the dishwasher.
“They gave me a prescription, but I forgot and didn’t fill it.”
“Well, I am glad to hear that.”
“So, what, you want to watch me to suffer?”
“No, I want to help you,” she said softly. Leaving the rest of the cleaning up for later, she came up to him and lightly touched his arm. “If you’ll let me try.”
Sawyer considered what she said and, uncertain of what she meant, his imagination darted in a variety of directions, most of them connected to those sinful fantasies he was trying not to have.
“Help how?” he asked finally, drawing reason to the foreground, ruthlessly burying the other images beneath his weakening good sense. “Don’t tell me you’re going to make me drink some herbal witches’ brew?”
“I can try that, too, but for now I was thinking more along the lines of massage therapy.”
“Massage?” Sawyer smiled and she blushed. “That sounds a whole lot better than a pill.”
“It helps to relieve tension,” Maya said, her cool voice a contrast to her hot cheeks.
“Yeah,” he drawled, “I’ll bet it does.”
“Stop that. Relaxation is a very effective pain remedy.”
“So I’ve heard. But relaxing isn’t exactly my specialty.”
“I know. Your body language screams tension.”
“My body language?”
Maya moved closer to him. “Let me show you,” she said, touching her fingertips to his neck and good shoulder. Gently but firmly she pressed her thumbs into pressure points she knew would make him smart.
“Hey,” Sawyer yelped, pulling away from her. “That’s not relieving pain, that’s causing it.”
“That’s because you’re so tense. If you’ll just lie down and let me work on the knots in your back a while, you’ll feel a lot less pain all over. I’ll bring an ice pack for your shoulder, too.”
Sawyer imagined having Maya bent over him, her wildflower scent surrounding him, her silky hair falling on his skin, her hands touching his shoulders, his back. Oh, yeah, massage therapy was sounding better all the time. “I suppose I could give it a try,” he said, trying to sound casual about the whole thing. “Where do you want me?”
Maya looked him up and down, considering. “Well, if you lie on a bed, I can put pillows under your shoulder so you can lie on your stomach.”
“A bed,” he echoed the only word he’d heard. “Sure, I can do that. My bedroom is down the hall.”
Maya put together an ice pack and followed him down a corridor on the opposite side of the house from where she was sleeping. He moved in long, even strides, his body taut, his muscles hard. Her fingers itched to take on the challenge of rubbing the stress out of them. The thought of massaging him, manipulating his beautiful muscles with her fingers, sent a warm buzz of awareness through her body, nowhere near her hands. Silently she reminded herself this was purely professional, an impersonal massage. Remember that, Maya, when he takes off his shirt.
Sawyer led her into a large room that looked as if it doubled as a bedroom and home office. As soon as she stepped into the room, his scent—a musky aroma of soap and old leather—filled her with a heady essence that was definitely all male. She glanced around, surprised to find that, unlike the rest of the house, his room was a mess. Jeans, boots, T-shirts and a leather duster were tossed over chairs and on the floor. Papers, scattered and piled high, cluttered his desk.
Maya couldn’t help smiling. “I gather your room is off limits to Regina?”
“You got it,” he said without a hint of apology.
“For the first time since coming here I feel at home,” Maya said with a laugh.
His gaze lingered on her, suggesting all sorts of things that had nothing to do with therapeutic massage. “At home in my bedroom. Interesting.”
Realizing too late she’d set herself up for that one, Maya rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant. Now take off your shirt, please.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her and Maya knew her face had to be flaming by now. She was digging herself in deeper and Sawyer obviously wasn’t about to help her out.
“Anything you want.” Awkwardly he began unbuttoning his denim shirt.
Watching him, Maya decided this might not have been one of her brighter ideas. She took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Here, let me do that.”
“I could get used to this,” he murmured as her fingers moved the buttons aside one by one.
“I haven’t done anything yet,” she said as she helped him ease the sling away long enough to slide the shirt off. As she helped him readjust his sling, her body brushed against his bare chest and his breath hitched. For an instant they both stood still, gazes locked.
“Didn’t you say this was supposed to relieve tension?” Sawyer muttered.
“I, um, haven’t gotten to that part yet.” Inwardly she groaned at how breathless she sounded. Professional, remember this is strictly business. But it was hard to remember business with him this close, looking like that. She’d already seen how built his arms were, but his back, stomach and chest were just as magnificent—cut, buff, gorgeous.
Snatching her eyes from him, Maya moved to his bed and grabbed a pillow. “Mind if I rearrange this?”
“Be my guest. You can’t make it any worse.”
Maya fluffed a couple of pillows to cradle his shoulder, set the ice pack on them and motioned him to lie down. As he complied, she asked, “Do you have any lotion?”
Sawyer shifted and looked back over his shoulder. “Not in my bathroom, but in the guest bath next door there’s probably some.”
“Okay. Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Sawyer said, his voice deliberately low and suggestive. He angled himself to see her walk out of the room—watching the sway of her hips was becoming an expected pleasure. A low hum of hot expectancy gathered in his loins. “Don’t go there,” he admonished himself. Maya wasn’t anywhere near even thinking about sex yet.
And he had no business thinking about it either. The situation they’d found themselves in was purely out of mutual need and convenience. This massage would simply be an unexpected bonus. Nothing more.
Right. Nothing more. He was going to try to believe that.
Moments later Maya returned with the lotion. She moved next to the bed and poured some lotion onto her hands, rubbing them together to warm it. “This is nice. Sandalwood. One of my favorites.” Her palms comfortably warm, gently she laid them on his back. “Now close your eyes and think good thoughts,” she said, her voice soft and soothing as she began searching with expert fingers to find and release the knots of tension.
“Good thoughts,” Sawyer repeated. Nice, relaxing thoughts. Not thoughts of her skilled fingers working their way down his back and then lower. This could be either pure heaven or pure hell. Because right now she was torturing him by creating an odd combination of sensations: a warm easing of painful stiffness and a growing ache between his thighs.
Maya bent closer, her silken hair brushing the small of his back. She rolled the heels of her palms in a mesmerizing pattern there, stopping to press harder where his muscles bunched tightly. “How does this feel?”
“Um, great.” It was partly true. Where she was touching him felt great. Where she wasn’t was another story. “Where’d you learn all this stuff?”
“I went to school. I’m a certified masseuse.”
“You must have graduated at the top of your class,” he murmured. Had her voice shifted from soothing to sexy? Or was he hearing what he wanted to hear?
Maya laughed, low and easy. “Actually I did.”
The breath from her soft laughter brushed his skin. If she kept this up, he’d have to sprain the other shoulder to keep from reaching for her.
“In case you’re interested, I’m a certified acupuncturist, too.” She punctuated her words with a deep pummeling motion down his spine.
“Not interested. No one’s going to stick pins in me like some voodoo doll.”
“They’re needles and you hardly even feel them.” She slowed her hands, rubbing inch by inch from the base of his back upward to where his dark hair curled in soft waves at his nape. Sliding her fingers into the heavy mass to massage his scalp, she tried to ignore the feel of it trailing over her hands.
He moaned in pleasure. “That’s amazing. My head has been killing me since I woke up in the hospital. But now my headache is nearly gone.”
“Wait until you see what the needles can do for you,” she teased.
“There’s nothing you could do that would convince me to try that,” he said, his voice low and graveled, relaxed.
“Nothing?” She slowly slid her fingers down his spine and back up again. “Nothing.” He paused. “Just out of curiosity, what did you have in mind?”
“Ah, so you’re not as confident as you pretend,” she said, working her hands down his back again to just inside the edge of his jeans. She smiled with satisfaction as she felt the stiffness ease in his body, tight muscles releasing. Reluctantly she took her hands away from his bare skin and leaned back. She’d been enjoying this way too much, and that wasn’t supposed to happen. She was a professional and she’d just had a baby. As a new mother, sex wasn’t supposed to even cross her mind for another three weeks. As a professional giving therapy, sex wasn’t supposed to cross her mind at all.
Sawyer rolled to his side to look at her. “You’re a miracle worker.”
“Well, I just hope it helped,” she said and quickly got to her feet before she embarrassed herself.
Levering himself up, Sawyer swung himself off the bed. “I’d like to return the favor, but at the moment I’m a little shorthanded.” He glanced at his immobilized shoulder and arm. “So to speak.”
Maya found her eyes wandering over him and hastily looked away, taking a step back. “Knowing you feel better is all the thanks I need.”
“What about needing something besides thanks?” With a single motion he used his good arm to pull her against him. “I can’t touch you the way you touched me, but I can do this.”
Before she could tell herself being held this close to him was a bad idea, Sawyer kissed her soundly, parting her lips with his tongue, refusing to take no for an answer. It took Maya all of a heartbeat to quit thinking and return his kiss. His lips seared hers, hot and tender at the same time. She felt that in a single kiss he’d branded her, spoiling her for the taste of any other man.
She felt herself falling into him, but in the next moment he caught her and drew back, breaking the spell. Sawyer put a safe distance between them, running an unsteady hand through his hair. “Maya, you need to leave now, for both our sakes.”
Maya’s throat went tight. “I—” What? She could hardly say she didn’t want him, didn’t like the way he touched and kissed her. “I didn’t expect to feel…this,” she said at last.
Sawyer looked at her, lingering desire mixed with confusion in his eyes, as if he’d just been hit with something that didn’t make any sense to him. With a touch of disbelief in his voice he said, “Neither did I.”