Chapter 14
MADDIE
Rio and I scroll through messages as we exit the ballroom, with Antoine leading the way.
Behind us, I hear journalists buzzing to one another about our statements. Snorty's name is mentioned more than once, each time followed by charmed laughter.
"According to your itinerary, this looks like free time," I say to Antoine. "And I could use a nap after that circus of a press conference."
Antoine shakes his head as he turns to us, tapping his clipboard.
"No free time any longer. We need visuals to solidify the narrative you just spun in there. I've engaged photographers to take pictures of you two frolicking in the spa. It's supposed to be the best in Las Vegas."
He points toward two men following behind us. One's tall with a beard. The other photographer short and sinewy. They both carry heavy camera bags.
"These gentlemen are Marco and Ben," Antoine explains in a low voice. "They are on my payroll. I've trained them to be invisible until I say otherwise."
"Antoine the magician," I tease. "Exactly," Antoine says. "They capture exactly what I want the world to see, and nothing I don’t."
"Sorry Antoine, I need to practice with the guys. I don't have time to have a 'spa experience,'" Rio says.
"There won't be a concert unless you convince America that you and Maddie are madly in love," Antoine counters.
"You've taken the first step with the press conference. And the second step is the spa. You'll enjoy it."
"Right," says Rio, hanging back to make a call. His voice drops to a low, seductive murmur. Could he be talking to a girl? Making midnight hookup plans?
My stomach twists with jealousy.
No. He wouldn't dare risk it.
Not with his band's future on the line.
But after that dorm night fiasco four years ago, I wouldn't put anything past him.
Just when Antoine half-talked me into believing that he may have changed.
“Well, here we are,” Antoine says, pushing open the grand doors to the same hotel spa we visited a few hours earlier.
"Miss Smith, nice to see you again," says the attendant. And hello, Mr. Wilder," she says to Rio, flirtation thick in her voice. "Right on time for your romantic escape."
Rio pockets his phone and smirks. “Lead the way. I'm looking for some deep relaxation."
The attendant's voice drips with practiced honey as she describes what's waiting for us.
"We've got the 'Intimacy Experience' prepped just for you two," she says, her manicured hand gesturing toward a hallway lined with orchids.
Antoine signals to Marco and Ben, who slip into the background, their camera lenses already pointed our way.
"Starting with the warm lagoon to unwind, then the snow room for contrast, and your side-by-side massages. Any preferences we should note?"
"Is it optional attire?" Rio asks in that deep sexy voice that has made millions of girls scream at concerts.
My eyes widen, and I feel heat crawl up my neck. "You mean... nude?"
I blurt this out, picturing his tattooed body without a stitch of clothing. The thought makes my mouth go dry. And other parts of me get a bit moist.
The attendant doesn't even blink. "Entirely up to you. For the ultimate relaxation, some do go au naturel."
Rio's lips curve into a smile.
”Well, count me in for that," he declares, throwing me a wink that makes my stomach flip despite myself.
Snorty wheezes softly from his Louis Vuitton carrier.
"It will be okay, pal," says Rio, pulling the netting down to stroke Snorty's ear while he hums a low tune.
Snorty quiets, then nuzzles Rio’s fingers with his snout.
Watching this little act of kindness almost makes me forgive Rio for his arrogant demeanor.
Almost.
We follow the attendant deeper into the spa, where she splits Rio and myself into separate changing rooms.
Inside mine, she faces me with a resolute smile and clears her throat.
"I must apologize, Miss Smith. We usually stock designer swimwear for purchase, but..."
She presents me with what has to be the most depressing swimsuit I have ever seen.
It is a beige one-piece that looks like it was snatched from a hospital supply closet. The beige color better belongs on a Band-Aid.
The opposite of the kind of racy swimsuit that would drive a gorgeous rockstar hot with desire.
But then again, that was never my intention. So this rag-like suit should be fine.
At least that's what I tell myself as I carry Snorty to the spa's lagoon area. I settle him, inside his carrier near the lagoon's edge.
"Come on in. The water's perfect," Rio calls, his voice a low rumble that makes me shiver despite the water’s warmth.
Marco and Ben slowly come forward, adjusting their lenses to capture every angle.
Fully aware of my unattractive swimsuit, I hide under my towel until I reach the water's edge.
Then I drop it and quickly slip into the lagoon.
The hot water envelops me like liquid silk, bubbling against my thighs.
Yet the ugly swimsuit feels even worse wet. As the beige fabric soaks through, it turns transparent in patches, sticking to my skin in all the wrong places.
I catch Rio's eyes traveling down my body, lingering where the material clings to my chest.
Then I feel a rush of heat that has nothing to do with the water's temperature.
My body betrays me as my nipples harden against the wet fabric. Then I feel a hungry need between my legs.
Can Rio see it? Sense it? From the way he's looking at me, I can't be sure.
Either way, I sink lower in the water until it reaches my chin. I cross my arms over my chest for good measure.
Rio's gaze is different now—darker, more intense. It's as if he's mentally peeling away what little coverage I have left.
"Sorry about this swimsuit. It's not part of my 'schoolmarm' wardrobe, I swear. It's all the hotel spa had to give me."
"You still look tempting as hell in it," he says, his voice lower than before. "Take it off. The water's dark enough. No one will know but me."
Antoine calls from the side. "Closer for the cameras. Sell the romance."
We drift nearer, our naked legs brushing underwater. Electric sparks ignite where skin meets skin. My breath catches.
"Closer, you two!" says Marco, circling us with his camera.
Rio puts his arm around me.
When the photographer asks me to move my body, my hand accidentally brushes against something hard.
Rio's cock.
And it is fully, undeniably erect.
I yank my hand away as soon as I realize what I've accidentally touched, water splashing. But then I catch a glimpse of Rio's smirk.
"Trying to get a rise out of me, are you, Schoolmarm?" he says, his voice rough.
I glare at him, my face burning hotter than the steam room.
"Get used to it. Your'e my fiancée now," he murmurs, as the cameraman signals for us to kiss. "We're going to be together. A lot."