The Rain in Spain Read Online Free PDF Page B

around until he was at her side.
    “Everything okay here?”
    “Yup.” She slid her arm around his tight waist and tugged him flush against her side, loving the feel of him under her hand, this giant of a man who never lost track of the tiniest detail involving her, no matter where she was. She tipped her head back against his arm as he slid it behind her and stroked her far hip.
    Pleasure bloomed under her skin where he touched her, a subtle vibration that made her fingertips tingle and usually led to suggestive lip biting if she stared at her husband for too long.
    Javi pressed a kiss to her hairline, and his mouth felt sad. Then he stole a swallow of her drink, which had arrived unnoticed at her elbow, and returned to the pool table, leaving her with a wink that looked forced.
    “He doesn’t act like a husband.”
    “How’s that?”
    Captain Container was still at her side, unlit cigar clamped between his teeth, two deep grooves between his brows as he pinched them together.
    “He lets you wander around without him, talking to strange men.”
    She smiled. As a summary of their entire relationship dynamic, that wasn’t too far off. “You’re not that strange, trust me.”
    The stories she’d told Javi when they’d first met had made his hair stand on end. A poor move, in retrospect. She’d been showing off a little, because her stories were so much more interesting than her looks, or at least she thought so. Also, she’d been dumber in her youth and less inclined to worry about keeping her skin in one piece than she was now, which meant she had some pretty entertaining party tales in her portfolio. But she’d clearly given Javi an exaggerated idea of what her days were like when she traveled. If he’d been worrying that every trip was like some of the dodgier ones she’d described, he must have been near frantic with stress while she was gone.
    But he’d never once suggested that she not go. Her chest was suddenly tight, a warm, wet ball of feeling shoved up behind her ribcage, making it harder to breathe all of a sudden.
    “He acts like my husband.”
    Across the room, Javi glanced up from the pool table, where he leaned over the cue, sighting down it at the black eight ball. His shirt was bunched up around his shoulders, heavy ropes of muscle running up his forearm to disappear under a cuffed sleeve. She stomped on the wet ball of feelings and made it all about wanting.
    Lord, she just wanted this man so hard. Maybe that could be enough.
    She locked gazes with him and let him see it. Threw back the last of her pilsner, left the glass on the sticky Formica bar, and got up off her seat, patting the sea captain goodbye on his arm. “ Adios, señor . Safe travels.” She didn’t take her eyes off her husband.
    Without looking at the table, he drew his elbow straight back and then rammed his hand forward, cue ball cracking off the eight like a rifle shot. He stood up and handed his cue stick to his opponent as she walked toward the door, the eight bouncing uselessly around the green felt, nowhere near a pocket.
    She was halfway up the stairs when he caught up to her. She imagined his breath hot on the back of her neck, and her flat shoes smacked against the stairs with an extra burst of speed. With a flick of a wave at the bouncer, they were out the door and back in the alley, the streetlights shining off the wet cobblestones, shining in too many places, even most of the way into the next gateway they passed, where she pulled him in after her and spun herself until her back hit the wall, right as Javi pushed up against her hips.
    Her stomach flipped, that fast first drop on a roller coaster, and she wrapped her leg around his hip, canting her own hips to press against him and make it easy for him to get a hand on her ass. She loved the feel of him there, his wide palm covering most of her cheek, his hand from thumb to pinkie spanning her from hip to crack, fingers digging in just enough to let her read his