California Royale (16 page)

Read California Royale Online

Authors: Deborah Smith

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: California Royale
8.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Shea came back from her evening run to find Duke stretched out on her couch, asleep, wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts. A crumpled beer can lay on his flat stomach. She tiptoed to him and whisked the can away carefully, noting as she did that he seemed to be frowning in his sleep.

Several days had passed since the boys’ arrival at the group home. She’d avoided meeting the teenagers, and Duke hadn’t pressured her. She loved him for that. She also loved him for taking a hotel room in Mendocino so that the staff wouldn’t gossip about his presence at her cottage. The staff knew about their relationship, she felt certain; the lack of questions so far was evidence
of everyone’s devotion to her and their fondness for Duke.

Shea went to the bathroom, removed her sweaty jogging outfit, and put on her robe. She ran cool water over a washcloth and carried it back to the couch. Kneeling beside Duke, she wiped his forehead. My
hombre
is exhausted, she thought anxiously. His dark eyes opened slowly, and he gave her a groggy smile.

“Long day?” she whispered.

He nodded slightly. “Good day, though. Jason only called me a son of a bitch once today, and I only threatened to kick his butt once. I think we’re making progress.”

Shea sighed, then leaned over and kissed his nose in sympathy. Jason Greggers was one of the tougher kids, and he was only thirteen years old. “You need to leave the counseling to the counselors,” she said.

“I know. My Lord, after this, breaking colts will be a breeze. I played basketball with twelve energetic teenagers for three hours nonstop. I feel real old right now.”

“Alejandro, you’re in your prime. You’re just worn out from lack of sleep.” She arched one brow at him. “You have nighttime
responsibilities
that those teenagers can’t begin to fathom.”

Duke thought about Parker Jones, the high-school Romeo, and his mouth crooked up in a tight smile.

“I think I’ll drive you over to the hotel soon and put you to bed early,” she informed him.

“Only if you’ll spend the night with me. I don’t want to ignore my responsibilities.”

She sighed theatrically. “Oh, I
suppose
no one would notice if I didn’t come back to the estate until tomorrow morning.” She paused, and her humor faded into concern. “Alejandro, are you worried about something?”

Duke took evasive action. “Hmmm. Why?”

“You were frowning in your sleep a minute ago.”

“I must have been dreaming about you.”

“Well, what a compliment,” she said in dismay.

“Yeah … now I remember … you were trying to seduce me in a mud bath, and you kept saying, ‘This little piggy went to market, this little piggy went home, and
this
little piggy …’ That’s when it got real disgusting …”

“Oh, hush!” Laughing, she began to whack him with the washcloth.

The next afternoon Shea stopped by the reception area for the massage and mud-bath rooms. As she bent over an appointment book, noting a schedule change, a female guest came bouncing out of the dressing room. The woman was a fortyish business executive with a slender, well-kept body clothed in colorful print shorts and a barely buttoned white shirt. She was barefoot, and her face was brightly flushed. When she spotted Shea, she laughed merrily and grabbed her hand.

“The new masseur is extraordinary, darling.”

Before Shea could reply, the woman breezed out of the area. Shea was humming the theme song from
The Summer of ’42
. She frowned, bewildered.
What
new masseur? She had to approve all staff hirings, and there was no new massage therapist.

“Hi, there. Are you next?”

Shea studied the tall young man who stepped into the reception area. His brown hair was a little ruffled, and
his
face was flushed. He wore baggy white shorts and a blue T-shirt with the slogan Once Is Never Enough. The slow head-to-toe look he gave her was followed by a jaunty smile.

“You sure do justice to that sundress,” he told her. “White’s a terrific color on you.”

Shea clasped her hands in front of her and struggled to imitate Duke’s best poker face. “Why, thank you,” she answered calmly. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“My name’s Parker.”

“My name’s Shea. Shea Somerton. I’m the manager here, and I don’t recall hiring you.”

The blood drained out of his face. “Oh, damn.” He groaned. “Are you Araiza’s chick?”

Shea nodded grimly and gave him a puzzled look. “Who are you?”

“Uh, never mind. I was just … it was a joke … I gotta go …”

“Freeze, mister,” she said sternly. “I want to see a guest card or your visitor’s pass.”

He grimaced, stared at her open mouthed, then plopped down in a chair and tossed his hands in a gesture of defeat. “I’m from the group home,” he admitted. “We came over to swim and I sort of went exploring.”

Shea stared at him, stunned. “Did you just finish giving a massage to one of the female guests?” she asked between clenched teeth.

Parker grasped his chest dramatically. “I just … I swear I just came in here to see what it was all about, and this lady walked in, and she thought I was a massage guy, so she got undressed and—”

“Forget the details,” Shea interjected. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

Oh, Lord
. She searched her mind for any information on California’s laws concerning minor males and adult females. Not that Parker looked like he’d been victimized.

Shea pointed toward the door. “Out. Go back to the pool and—”


There
you are.” A counselor out of breath and obviously
upset, burst into the room. He glanced at Shea, his face red with apology. “I won’t blame you if you raise hell, Ms. Somerton. Romeo—I mean Parker—was my responsibility, and I let him get out of sight. I’ll tell Duke what happened.”

Shea was seething, but she realized that both she and the counselor were in a predicament. He didn’t want to suffer Duke’s wrath, and she didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that the estate was now providing sex therapy along with massages. She looked from the counselor to Parker.

“Fellows, this is our secret.” She pointed at Parker. “But I’ll wring your neck if I catch you ‘wandering’ again.”

“You’re an okay lady,” Parker noted, looking relieved.

“Thanks, Ms. Somerton,” the counselor added.

Another female guest hurried into the reception area at that moment. She looked impatient and excited. “I came to make an appointment with the new masseur,” she announced, “Parker.”


Querida
, you seem distracted tonight.”

They were seated in rocking chairs on the balcony outside Duke’s hotel room. The hotel was one of Mendocino’s Victorian relics, a marvelous old building that fronted main street. Beyond the street stretched a field of tall grass. The field ended at steep slopes that plunged to the Pacific. Shea stared at a panorama of moonlit ocean and tried to keep her anger from surfacing.

“I’m just tired,” she told him.

“You hardly spoke during dinner.”

“I ran several extra miles after work. My legs hurt.”

He turned his chair to face her, then patted one knee. “Put those hooves up here, filly, and let old Duke rub your fetlocks.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got to go back to the estate. I have some paperwork to do.” Shea continued staring at the ocean, but she sensed his annoyance and puzzlement in the silence that followed her remark.

“Palomino,” he said in a soft, warning tone, “something’s wrong and you’ve got to tell me what it is.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Let’s see. The boys came over today and went swimming. If I hadn’t had to stay here and take some phone calls, I would have come with them. I told you that earlier. Did they say anything wrong or disturb any of the guests? Did the counselors keep things under control?”

Disturb
wasn’t an adequate description for what Parker had done to a guest, Shea thought glumly. “I don’t like having them around,” she said in a sharp voice. “They worry me more than I ever thought they would. They’re loud and rowdy.”

“Most teenagers are. They were only there for an hour, weren’t they? And didn’t you assign them one of the indoor pools away from the guests?”

“Yes. Yes.” Her back muscles felt as if they’d snap from the tension of keeping Parker’s escapade to herself. She couldn’t bear to get the counselor in trouble with Duke. She also felt sorry for Parker himself, who would probably be sent back to his Los Angeles home immediately if she reported his indiscretion.

The counselor had explained to her in private that Parker lived with a boozing older sister and her abusive husband. Shea remembered her own childhood, and her animosity toward Parker had evaporated.

“Shea?” Duke’s voice was serious. “What happened to your cooperative attitude and open mind?”

“This new situation is putting me under a lot of strain,” she answered. “You can’t expect me to adjust
easily.” She was glad that the dim light hid her confusion and sadness. “
Adíos
. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Shea walked inside the hotel she heard Duke cursing no one and everyone.

He let her strange mood simmer until the next night, and then he showed up at her cottage bearing a bottle of tequila and a box filled with Mexican food.

“There’s only one way to end a fight,” Duke informed her as he strode into the kitchen. “And that’s by sharing good liquor and hot food.”

“I know your idea of hot food. Let me get a fire extinguisher.”

He didn’t laugh at the joke or acknowledge her wistful glances and outstretched hands. With single-minded reserve he went about the business of getting two plates from her kitchen cabinet, then dished up an array of Mexican concoctions.

“I was bad tempered last night,” she admitted. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Doesn’t matter. I love you anyway.” He walked past her into the dining room, his expression set in a mask of determination. “That’s what love’s about. Putting up with each other’s bad moods.”

“Sounds romantic,” she said sardonically.

“Doesn’t always have to be romantic. Just permanent and loyal.” He breezed past her again and got a shot glass for his tequila. “Want some booze?”

“No. I’ll drink water.”

“So be it.” He filled a glass for her, then brusquely grabbed napkins and silverware from the kitchen drawers.

“Alejandro Araiza, stop playing kitchen maid and look at me!” she ordered, exasperated. “I feel as if I’m a chore you have to attend to!”

He gazed calmly at her. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I intended to wait until you came to me. But nooo, the elegant and proud Ms. Somerton won’t apologize.…”

“I apologize,” she murmured. Then, more fervently, “I
apologize
, Alejandro.” She stomped over to him and hugged his neck. “I was an ornery beast last night, and I needed to be by myself. A minute ago I was getting ready to drive over to the hotel and beg your forgiveness.”

He hesitated briefly, then hugged her neck. “You’ve got to talk to me about what upsets you,” he said firmly.

“I was going to bring you a dinner of tofu salad and herbal tea.…”

“Lord, I’m glad I decided to make the first move.”

They were interrupted by the sound of running feet and rustling shrubs outside the cottage. “What now?” Shea exclaimed as Duke rushed to the door. “Don’t! I’ll call security!”

But he was already outside. Shea ran after him. The sounds came from behind the cottage. Duke and Shea rounded the comer in time to see Sally Rogers, dressed in a silky red caftan, make an amazingly accurate flying tackle on someone much smaller. Both Sally and the intruder went down in the shrubbery.

“Cool it, kid. Cool it!” the famed comedienne squawked.

“Ouch! You’re twisting my ear!”

“I’ll twist it off and bronze it for you if you don’t get still!”

“All right, all right! I wasn’t doin’ nothing!”

“You were looking in my cottage window, you little creep!”

“So what? So sue me, you fat broad.”

“Fat broad? You weasel.” She was now sitting on the intruder, and he was wheezing for breath. Sally began to laugh. “I haven’t had this much fun in years!”

Shea followed Duke through the shrubs and stopped, speechless with disbelief, as he knelt down beside Sally. He bent over and eyed the person under her. “Jason, what are you doing away from the group home?”

“She’s squashing me, Duke! Damn …”

“Don’t cuss, weasel,” Sally ordered.

“Okay, okay! I was just restless, man. I just took a long walk, you know, and I looked in a window, and then this lady comes screeching out and almost kills me!”

“I might yet,” Sally told him.

Shea stepped forward. “I hope you’re not hurt,” she told Sally. “I can’t begin to apologize enough—”

“No problem! It was fun! I haven’t had anybody peek in my windows in so long I decided that I couldn’t let this brave turkey get away! Had to capture his little fanny and see who he was.”

Duke sat back on his heels. “I’ll say one thing for you, Sal, your aerobics class is paying off.”

Laughing again, Sally got off of Jason and settled beside him in a heap of red caftan. Duke took the small, spindly boy by the shirt collar and helped him sit up. Shea took a long look at the thin black face made memorable by enormous brown eyes that snapped with intelligence. So this was Jason, the little warrior who’d had the courage to call Alejandro impolite names. He looked very young and very alone.

At that sight, Shea was a goner. She had been this kind of defensive little person once, and she’d often felt just the way Jason looked. She held out a hand.

“C’mon, Peeping Jason. How about some Mexican food?”

He looked at her askance. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Possibly the only friend you’ve got right now.”

“I catch your drift.” He took her hand and wobbled to his feet.

Shea glanced at Sally. “Would you like some Mexican food and tequila?”

She grinned. “Now that’s what I came to this fat farm for. Sure.”

As the four of them sat around the dining room table and ate, Shea continued to feel Duke’s scrutiny. She was tired and upset at the incidents involving the teenagers, but she couldn’t turn away from Jason. Her emotions in turmoil, she picked at her food and said very little.

Other books

Social Death: A Clyde Shaw Mystery by Tatiana Boncompagni
More Than a Memory by Marie James
Unforgettable You by Deanndra Hall
Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 by Terri Reed, Becky Avella, Dana R. Lynn
Redeeming Vows by Catherine Bybee
The World House by Guy Adams