Playing His Game Part 14

"He and two of his buddies-Ryan Peters and Chris Cahill-cornered me by the bleachers. He kissed

me."

Mya felt a wash of relief that it wasn't anything worse, but Carly continued before she could say anything.

"He pushed up my s.h.i.+rt, and one of the guys put their hand down my pants..." Carly wiped at a tear on

her cheek. "They didn't rape me or anything, but the three of them left some bruises on my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I was

sore for a while and had an aversion to boys touching me at all for months."

Mya shook her head unconsciously. She wanted to deny what her sister had said. "Why would he do that?"

Carly shrugged. "He's an a.s.shole?"

"That was years ago..."

Her mouth twisted. "Yeah. I'm sure he's outgrown it." Her tone held an edge. "Anyway, shortly after that,

you two got serious and I started working out. He never bothered me again."

Mya's mouth dropped open. "We were dating at the time?"

Carly nodded. "So, it's not like he's innocent, Mya. Enjoy your fling with Roarke. Then, if you must,

marry Bobby."

"I don't know what to say."

Carly shrugged. "It was years ago, and I'm over it now. I just thought it was time to tell you."

"So I can do an eye for an eye?"

"No. So you can realize that Bobby isn't as great as you think, and that you owe it to yourself to explore

other options before settling down with him. You've never had anyone else, Mya." Carly's eyes shone

with unshed tears. "I don't want you to make a mistake."

Angry words rose to her tongue, but she swallowed them. It pained her, but she no longer felt the urge to defend Bobby as she had in the past. Her sister's revelation was just one more incident in a pattern that had started to emerge. Her eyes dropped to the ring on her finger, and she was briefly tempted to pull it off.

That thought scared her and Mya tore her eyes from the small diamond. Things hadn't been great lately, but she still wanted to marry Bobby. Didn't she?

Her eyes drifted to the day-pa.s.s for the spa, and her heart rate increased with antic.i.p.ation. Carly was

right. She deserved to get something out of the mess her life had become. Bobby had even encouraged her to partic.i.p.ate in Roarke's game.

The thought of another lover caused Mya's stomach to clench with excitement and nervousness. What if she liked it so much that she didn't want Bobby anymore? But if she didn't do it, she would never know. That could be worse than anything else that might happen. How would things be with her and Bobby if she always looked back with regret and wondered what-if?

Carly cleared her throat. "Can I try out your spa?"

Mya pulled the box closer. "Not until I do."

"Hurry up, sis. I'm leaving tomorrow."

With a laugh, she rose from the table and carried the box with her down the hall. Once more Carly had persuaded her to see both sides. Mya only hoped her confidence wouldn't fade with her sister's departure.

Chapter Sixteen.

Rendezvous Mya arrived at Rendezvous a little after eleven on Tuesday morning. She had been delayed by the need to run a few errands for Bobby, then pay some bills. As of yet, she hadn't found the time or opportunity to ask him about what Carly had told her and anxiety shadowed her hazel eyes.

The spa was located in a small white brick building amid upscale shops, a wholesale makeup supplier, and a wig manufacturer's outlet. Mya pushed on the golden bars of the clear gla.s.s door to open it and caught her breath when she stepped into the interior.

Pale pink walls and bright fuchsia carpets pleased the eye. A richly polished reception desk was tucked into the corner, almost hidden by a ma.s.s of greenery that sprouted from wicker pots. A gorgeous woman sat behind the desk. She had s.h.i.+ny dark hair, glossy red lips, and a perfectly proportioned body.

The corner of Mya's mouth quirked as she wondered if she was supposed to believe a visit to Rendezvous would transform her into that? She shook her head and walked to the desk.

"Good morning." The receptionist's voice was as perfect as the rest of her.

"Hi." Mya clutched the pa.s.s in her hand.

"How may we help you?"

Mya resisted the urge to look around for the others that made up 'we'. Instead, she handed the woman her pa.s.s. "I have a reservation."

With one brisk nod, the receptionist took the card and consulted a book beside her. "Welcome, Ms.

Langelles."

Mya's eyebrows shot up as the woman actually p.r.o.nounced her name correctly. "Thanks."

"Mr. Thomas is waiting for you in the lounge."

Mya swallowed hard. "He's here already?" Hadn't she expected him to be though? Why else had she hurried through the morning's schedule and gotten more impatient with each delay?

The woman nodded. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you the changing rooms."

"Changing rooms?"

"Our clients generally prefer a more relaxed state of dress while undergoing a session."

Mya nodded and tried to look knowledgeable as she followed the receptionist, whose impossibly high heels sank into the thick carpet without a sound. They went down a hallway that featured the same wall coverings and carpet before they stopped before a light-pink door labeled Women's. "Now what?"

"There are robes or terry sarongs to choose from." The woman pushed open the door. "There's also a selection of slippers and flip-flops."

"After I change, where do I go?"

"Inside is a door marked Lounge. If you go through it, you'll find Mr. Thomas."

"Thanks." Mya's smile felt wobbly as she walked through the door the receptionist still held for her. She surveyed the room and looked for the robes. Her eyes slid past the pink marbled floor and wall tile, pink lockers, and shower stalls to a large closet against one wall.

She walked over to examine the choices. The robe selections were varied-from a crimson silk robe that might have fallen two inches below her hip, to a full-length light-blue terry robe. The sarongs were fas.h.i.+oned like a wrap-around towel, but secured in place with Velcro.

She flipped through the selections and chose an emerald silk robe with a hood. It would be thin enough to allow Roarke a view of her body, but wasn't completely see-through. She slid it from the hanger and picked up a pair of cork thongs, which she took to a locker. She dropped the robe and shoes on the bench and removed her slacks and vest top quickly. She had worn her hair up in a clip, and she left it that way as she slid on the robe. She dropped the shoes on the floor before she pushed her feet into them.

The silk slid across her bare skin with every step she took, and the sensation made Mya s.h.i.+ver. She stopped in front of the wall-length mirror to admire herself. The emerald went well with her hair and brought out green glints in her eyes. Her nipples poked through the thin fabric because they had hardened from the sensuous sensation of the robe as it slid across her flesh. The hem ended mid-thigh and exposed the length of her legs to their best advantage.

With a smile to herself, Mya walked out of the dressing room, through the door marked Lounge. She froze three steps into the room when she saw another couple waited. They looked up at her, then returned their attention to magazines.

Roarke sat in a leather recliner with his feet propped up, as he sipped from an espresso cup. He wore a thin black robe that ended just above the knee. When he saw her, he lifted a hand to wave her over.

Mya walked across the burnt umber carpet and tried to ignore the presence of the other man and woman. They seemed oblivious, which alleviated some of her self-consciousness. She resisted the urge to tug on the robe's hem, because it would only cause the bodice to drop lower. It was a relief to stop beside Roarke, who got up from the recliner. "Hi." Mya's voice trembled, and she didn't know if it was from nerves or the sight of his body revealed through the silk robe that molded itself to him.

"Good morning, Mya." Roarke touched the three-quarter sleeve of her robe. "Beautiful color on you."

She smiled up at him and ducked her head slightly. "Thanks." She wanted to compliment him, but her tongue felt too thick.

"Would you like to start with a ma.s.sage, manicure and pedicure, or a mud bath?"

Her forehead furrowed. "Mud bath? What is that?"

"I've never tried it, but Lisa said it's very relaxing. Apparently, they immerse you in this tub full of mud with a gel mask over your eyes. They use aromatherapy to scent the air and play soothing music.

Mya couldn't keep a grimace from her face. "I'm not anxious to climb into a vat of mud."

He laughed. "Then what shall we start with?"

"Manicures?"

It was his turn to grimace. "That will be a new experience for me, but Lisa said this was a-nice place."

Roarke winced, realizing he had almost revealed exactly what Lisa had said-a romantic place.

Mya's stomach clenched at his repet.i.tion of the name Lisa. Who was she? An ex-girlfriend, maybe? Or maybe someone who had played Roarke's game in the past? Maybe she still played it? He did have five

other days in the week when he didn't see her. Who knew what he did with all that time? Mya tried to sound casual when she asked, "Who's Lisa?"

Roarke bit back a grin as he saw her eyes darken and hands clench. Her tone had bordered on glacial.

Jealous? He certainly hoped so. He was tempted to let Lisa play a different role, but it wouldn't be fair- especially if she ever met Mya. "She's my brother's wife."

"Oh." Mya refused to acknowledge her relief.

A side door opened, and Roarke waved to the woman entering. She wore a long red dress with gold flowers. A tiger lily was tucked behind her ear, and her eyes looked exotic. They were a vivid green, lined with dark kohl, and edged by thick lashes.

Another product of the Rendezvous regimen, Mya thought with uncharacteristic cynicism. Was that the kind of woman Roarke wanted her to be? Her stomach churned at the thought. She could never be exotic or alluring.

She smiled as she came over to them. "Yes, Mr. Thomas?"