30 Days of OutlawQueen (June 2018)

by ThievesOverBullies

A/N- 30 one shots based on at least 30 different cities all over the world.

20. Chapter 20

(Rio de Janeiro)

Regina Mills—soon to be Nolan, once this day was over— marched up the long corridor between the reception hall and the bar, muttering to herself. It was time to take the pictures before the big event, but her groom was MIA. After making a list of possible places he might have gone, jotted neatly on a cocktail napkin, she'd made the rounds and so far? Nada.

Pausing, she jabbed at the green call button of her cell phone and held it to her ear.

In the reception room behind her, the strains of "Can't Feel My Face" faded. It was only that brief absence of music that allowed her to hear the muffled, familiar melody of Graham's ringtone coming from behind a door at the end of the hallway.

Relief flooded her, and she beelined toward the sound. She tugged the door open and—

"David?" Regina stared down at soon to be husband, total shock momentarily preventing her from comprehending the scene before her. The slightly muffled version of The Pink Panther theme song coming from the pants around her husband's ankles kept time with the ring pouring from the receiver of the telephone she still had cupped to her ear.

"Regina! I can explain," David said as he frantically tried to extract himself from the woman he was screwing and yank up his pants at the same time, which was no easy feat given the restrictive confines of the filled-to-bursting storage closet. In his struggle, he knocked a mound of snowy-white linens off the shelf behind him, and they toppled onto his paramour with a thunk, shoving her torso flat into the table she was draped over.

"Shit!" she wailed, floundering until the cloths fell to the floor in a heap.

Regina focused more intently on the woman ass up in front of David. Black curls arranged in an updo, a tasteful navy dress bunched around her bare thighs. Navy chiffon, to be exact. The very same chiffon she'd picked out for her bridesmaid dresses.

Shock gave way to a gut-wrenching sense of betrayal. "Marian?" Her brain thrashed around in search of a stronghold, a port in this most ludicrous of storms, and she uttered the first thing that came to mind. "But you said he had woman-hips."

"Hi, this is David. Leave a message," the oh-so-familiar voice chirped in her ear.

"Hi, David?" she said into the previously forgotten phone. "This is Regina. You're a lying piece of shit asshole." She disconnected and hurled it against the corridor wall, where it connected with a satisfying crunch.

David flinched. "Honey, it's not what it looks like."

Why do people always say that? she wondered dully.

Marian tugged at the hem of her dress and stared at the floor, slump-shouldered and unwilling to meet Regina's gaze.

"What it looks like is that you're having sex with one of my oldest friends in the linen closet of our reception hall. Unless, of course, she's lost something in her vagina and you were gallant enough to try and fish it out for her. With your penis. If that's the case, I suggest using a larger lure."

A whispered "Ouch" over her shoulder clued her in to the fact that the three of them were no longer alone. Her skin prickled like she'd been dipped in rubbing alcohol, but she kept her gaze locked on David.

He winced, his cheeks turning a fiery shade of red. "No need to be rude, Regina." The ensuing silence was so absolute that when he fastened his tuxedo pants, it sounded like a grizzly bear traveling down a zip line.

"Please tell me you're not chastising me over my lack of manners right now. Because if I thought that were true, I just might get one of those stupid shrimp forks your mother insisted we have and jam it into your eye."

He gaped at her as if he'd never seen her before and wasn't all that thrilled with the view. Well, bully for him. She knew the feeling.

"Regina, we were going to tell you. But things got out of hand, and then the merger…" Marian's eyes pleaded with her. For what? Understanding? Forgiveness?

She was fresh out of both.

Tears pricked the backs of her lids, and she stared at two of the people she thought she could count on most. Lifting her trembling hand, she tore off her engagement rings, then set the now meaningless symbols of commitment carefully on the table.

"That's it?" an outraged voice bellowed from over her shoulder. "You're going to let them off that easy? Oh, no way. Not on my watch." Her maid of honor and sister from another mister, Tink, pushed past her and peered in. Her eyes were a bit bleary as she treated the couple in the closet to a death stare. "I should kick your prissy little ass."

She was probably talking to Marian, but it was a fitting threat for both of them, and that made the whole thing even more awful. David wouldn't have even considered bending Regina over a table, never mind one in the linen closet of a public place, but there he'd been, doing exactly that with her friend. On their wedding day.

"Tink, stay out of it," a low male voice murmured.

Regina closed her eyes and bit back a groan. Of all the people to have witnessed her shame, Robin Locksley would've been her last choice. Tink's brother had been away for the past two months on a business trip overseas, and he'd just returned to Rhode Island two days ago. Regina had been so sure he would still be at home recovering, she'd never expected him to come to the wedding.

Growing up, he had been a never-ending source of torment for Regina, either unaware or unimpressed with the fact that she'd harbored a serious crush on him since grade school. In spite of his ribbing and her efforts to act like she couldn't care less, over the years they'd forged an uneasy alliance for Tink's sake. She hated him seeing her at her lowest point. Especially after he'd warned her about David the year before.

His muttered, "Watch yourself, squirt. He's spineless, and spineless people don't care who gets hurt, as long as it's not them," had stuck with her far longer than it should have.

Or maybe not long enough, she thought glumly and took one last look at the train wreck in front of her.

"I'm fine, Tink. Robin's right. I need to go before any of the other guests see this." She met David's miserable gaze. "You'll be hearing from my lawyer. Don't try to contact me. I have nothing to say to you."

She turned to Marian and the ache in her gut increased tenfold. For a brief moment, she wondered if it should be the other way around. Shouldn't his betrayal hurt worse? But before she could catch hold of the thought, it burned away under the heat of white-hot anger at Marian. The third amigo. The other sidekick for the force that was Tink. The person she could call when she just wanted to vent instead of plot to take over the world. If Tink was the meat of their sandwich, Regina and Marian, were the slices of bread.

Not anymore.

Sweet, sweet Marian was now Marian the Betrayer.

"And you?" She cast around for something to say, to lash out, to make her pay, but all she could muster was, "I want my Yoda T-shirt back. Then lose my number."

Marian's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, her pink cheeks going chalk white.

The tears were coming soon. They were building at the back of her throat like an imprisoned scream. She had to get out of there, fast. Tink took her arm and led her across the hall with a hissed, "Bastards," over her shoulder. Robin fell into step on her other side.

"Is this a nightmare? Please tell me this is a nightmare," Regina murmured under her breath.

"This is no nightmare, squirt. This is the luckiest day of your life," Robin said, his tone grim.

"Not the time, bro." Tink popped her brother hard on the shoulder with a balled-up fist.

"It's the truth. That guy wasn't good enough to wipe your shoes. And your friend there is getting exactly what she deserves. A jellyfish of a man for a jellyfish of a woman. She always was weak."

There was an uncharacteristic compliment buried in that statement, and it registered briefly through her shock, but she didn't have a chance to dwell on it. They'd reached the main reception hall filled with her family and friends. The black cloud of dread hanging over her thickened. The wedding was supposed to have paved the way for two of the city's most high-powered law firms to merge into one big family firm. Now that might never happen and, despite the circumstances being out of Regina's control, her mother was going to be furious.

She paused and ran a hand over her hair. "I have to go in there, don't I? To tell them something?" Her voice warbled and she bit her lip.

"Nope. Robin will tell them. I'll drive you to your apartment to change your clothes, and we'll go get smashed!" Tink held up a hand for a high five.

"Not going to happen," Robin cut in. "You're already smashed," he said to his sister before turning to Regina. "And you're in no condition to drive. You're still in shock, and when this hits the fan, it's going to get ugly."

He was right. Tink had been sipping mimosas all morning and had drunk more than her share at cocktail hour. It would be wrong to let her get behind the wheel. Regina had enjoyed a couple herself, but clearly not enough to dull this pain. Robin had hit the nail on the head. She was one false move from shattering into a million pieces.

Run away, her mind screamed. For once, she went with impulse over common sense.

"Tink, go tell David he can let the guests know why I've left. He's a big, fat, stupid liar, so I'm sure he'll come up with a plausible reason. But tell him if he makes it look like it was my fault, he'll regret it. And make sure he tells them to take their gifts home. Oh, and try to manage my mother, okay? I hate to put you in that spot, but she is going to flip out and I can't handle her brand of crazy right now when I haven't even had a chance to have my own."

"No problem. Leave The Empress to me."

Tink's nickname for her mother usually brought a smile to Regina's face, but not today. Today, she winced at the accuracy of the name. Things hadn't gone The Empress' way, and she wasn't going to be happy with her little minions. The question was, would she try to be understanding or would she blame it on Regina—again?

"I owe you huge for this. I just need some time before I can face the fallout." She turned to pin Robin with a frank stare, ready to beg if she needed to. But when she faced him fully for the first time, her heart hitched. His dark hair was tousled, and his chin bore the scruff that was ever-present unless he was prepping for a fight. True to form, he was underdressed in a sports jacket that stretched tight over his wide shoulders and jeans that had seen better days. She'd spent thousands of her waking hours picturing that face, and just as many sleeping hours dreaming of it. A pang of regret for what never was, joined the other riot of emotions from this hellacious day, and when she met his blue eyes, the pity there was more than she could bear. The tears flowed freely and she swallowed the last morsel of her pride. "Can you get me the hell out of here, please?"

…

For a long moment, Robin held her dark gaze and didn't respond, although his instincts were bleating up a storm. This is a baaaaad idea. His instincts were pretty fucking solid most days and had saved him a lot of pain, both in the ring and out. In fact, hadn't he told Regina not to marry this loser? He opened his mouth to remind her of that fact again but snapped it shut a second later when his instincts told him a move like that would earn him a high-heeled kick to the family jewels. "And go where?"

"Anywhere, blockhead," Tink cut in with a roll of her eyes. "She has to get out of here. You two go. I'll deal with everything here."

Regina gave her a weak smile. "Thanks, Tink. I'd be lost without you."

"Tell me about it. And don't worry. If loverboy tries to throw you under the bus, I'll make sure everyone hears the truth," she assured Regina, giving her arm a gentle pat.

Robin really didn't want to get involved in this mess. Something had been happening over the past couple years, and he didn't like it. The obligatory annoyance combined with grudging affection that guys typically felt toward the good longtime friends of their sisters had begun to change when it came to Regina. She was no longer a gangly, awkward teen—and he knew it. Luckily, that was right about the time she'd saddled herself with David the dishrag, so it hadn't been an issue. Hell, he'd only come because his sister's latest boy toy had bailed, and she needed a plus one. "Listen, I—"

"Robin. Please. I can't go back in there." Regina's voice had lost the shrill gloss of panic and now sounded resigned. Beat down.

God, he was a sucker. He closed his eyes for a long moment and nodded. "Okay. I've got my bike, though." He cast a dubious eye at her floor-length gown.

"We'll make it work." With the promise of imminent escape, she sounded stronger already. She jammed her arm through his so their elbows were locked and raised her chin. "Tink, I'll call you later once I'm settled."

"You threw your phone," Robin reminded her.

"Indeed I did." Her chin dipped a little before she rebounded like a champ. "Tink, I will e-mail you later if I can't find a phone."

"Cool. Love you, babe. And I promise, in a few months, after we've exacted our revenge, we're going to look back at this and laugh," Tink said.

Robin frowned and his sister shrugged. Between the two of them, they were screwing this up royally. Maybe he'd think of something good to say on the way out.

He led Regina toward the main exit, but she tugged him toward the bar in the deserted lounge area. "One second." She yanked her arm from his. "Excuse me, sir?" she called to the balding bartender washing glasses at an industrial-sized sink in the corner. Balancing precariously on the wooden footrest skirting the bar, she reached over the counter and plucked a bottle of champagne nestled in an ice bin. "Put this on my fiancee's tab, would you? David Nolan the wedding in the Rose Room."

She didn't wait for a response but stalked out the door with the bottle clutched in her hand.

He stared helplessly after her, then looked back to the bartender. "Can you even do that?"

The guy shrugged. "What am I going to do, chase after her? Given the look on her face, I'm going to say that seems like a bad idea."

Robin sighed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a fifty. "Will that cover it?"

"Yep."

Two seconds later, he exited the building and glanced around. Regina had stopped at his Harley and set down the champagne. She couldn't ride with that gown on. She'd get them both killed. They were going to have to—

He paused mid-step when Regina reached behind her neck. What was she going to do, strip?

"Some help here?" she mumbled, grappling with the hooks down her back.

Some help here? Little Regina Mills wanted his help taking off her wedding dress. The shy teen his sister had forced to drink four wine coolers before she would go skinny-dipping. And even then, she'd made them all close their eyes until she was in up to her neck. This was officially the weirdest fucking day of his life. "I'm not sure exactly what the plan is, but I can tell you right now, it's ill-advised," he said, ignoring the baser part of him that roared to life at the thought of seeing what was under all that dress.

"Damn it," Regina muttered, scrabbling at the catches.

He didn't dare smile. She might not be gangly anymore, but she was still a little awkward, in the way that a woman was when she had no true sense of her worth. But that aside, the outer packaging was right and tight. Easy enough to put it out of his mind when she was engaged to another man. Not so easy now that her relationship had disintegrated and she wanted him to help her disrobe.

"I'll help you if you tell me what we're hoping to accomplish. You can't ride on the back of my bike naked. You realize that, right?"

"I have a full slip under here that comes down to my knees. It's no more revealing than some cocktail dresses I've seen, so don't worry. I won't get us arrested."

The emotionless resignation in her tone made him want to go back into the hall and treat David Nolan to the uppercut that had earned him the nickname Whalin' Robin. One shot, right to the fucker's nonexistent chin. But then he saw the tremble. It wasn't much, just a little shiver of uncertainty that snaked through her and left her readable. And what he read spelled sadness. The deep, I don't even know what to do with myself kind of pain. Damn.

At that moment, if she'd asked him to dance a jig, he'd have considered it if it meant cheering her up even a little. He stalked up behind her to push her hands out of the way. "I'll do it. We're going to have to take it really slow riding. If we took a spill, your legs would be a mess."

The slender line of neck teased him, and he vowed to make quick work of it. He'd gotten through the first trillion buttons and was about halfway done when her shoulders started to shake.

He froze. "Are you crying?"

"Can you hurry?" She gave a pathetic sniffle. "I just want to go."

He eyed the long line of pearls dubiously. Making an executive decision, he grasped both sides in his hands and yanked. The dress split in two down to the middle of her thighs. He let it drop into a pool at her feet and she didn't even blink when she stepped out of it.

"Thanks," she said with a brave, watery smile.

He nodded but opted not to speak. She was right. The slip did cover her, much in the way a coat of candy-apple-red paint covered a Mustang. It didn't so much hide the car as it enhanced exactly how badass it was. Spaghetti straps of white silk lay in stark relief against the darker, golden skin of her shoulders. Her full breasts strained at the material binding them. If he looked a little harder he'd just be able to make out the contour of her nipples—

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Her sad eyes went wide. "Is there a bug on me? Is it a spider?" She screeched the last word and began frantically swiping at her slip.

"No, you're fine. Stop it. I was thinking what a douche bag David is." It was as close to the truth as he could manage, given the circumstances.

She stopped all her fussing and stared at him. "Thanks. I appreciate that. Now get me out of here before people start coming out, would you?"

"Where to, squirt?"

"Not home."

He waited for further instructions, but that was clearly all he was getting out of her. "Not home it is." He yanked his helmet off the handlebar and plunked it on her head. "Tighten the chin strap."

He took the bottle from her and stowed it in his pack, then climbed on. When she straddled the seat behind him, he had to steel himself. Her slip rode up high enough to reveal slim, toned legs encased in silk stockings. A thin, lace garter in blue and white hugged one thigh. She snuggled in close, molding her front to his back, and he said a silent little prayer.

Dear Satan. I don't know why you're testing me, but I don't like it. No love, Robin.

Regina shuddered, pressing her face against the warmth of Robin's broad back. What had started off as a balmy afternoon had turned into a crisp evening. She seriously regretted stripping off her dress and regretted leaving it in the parking lot even more.

Not just a dress, she reminded herself. Her wedding gown. With its delicate row of seed-pearl buttons meant for the eager fingers of a man who loved her more than anything else in the world. Instead, it had been torn off by a guy who couldn't give two craps about her, aside from some ingrained but reluctant sense of responsibility. She sniffled and shoved the thought away. David wasn't worthy of that dress anyway.

"Are we almost there?" she shouted, suppressing another shiver. Robin had offered his jacket more than once, but she'd put him out enough for one day.

He nodded. She wrapped her arms tighter around his middle and closed her eyes, breathing in the comforting smell of Irish Spring soap that had been the Locksley family's preference for as long as she'd known them. She tried not to think about the past few hours or the difficult days to come, but she was a planner down to her very marrow and the latter went against the grain. Fact was, she had no clue what the hell she was going to do now. All her neatly laid-out plans had been soundly obliterated with one bang. Literally.

Actually, that might be putting too much of a shine on it. It could've been multiple bangs. With multiple women. She thought she'd known David better than that, but now? Blech. Anything was possible. Thank God on the rare occasions they'd actually done anything in bed, she'd insisted he use a condom despite his complaints. And to think, tonight was the night she'd planned to tell him she'd gone on the pill in hopes of ramping up their love life. She'd thought her wedding night would be the night she finally got to see what all the fuss was about. And now this.

Bastard.

In an effort to keep the anger burning hot enough to distract her from the sting of her wounded pride, fear of the unknown, and depressing thoughts about Marian, she spent the remainder of the ride concocting wild revenge schemes, most of which involved red ants, honey, and David's testicles. She'd finally settled on a winner when the deafening rumble of the bike stopped abruptly.

She opened her eyes and saw the Locksley family's lake cottage. The saltbox house was painted a faded china blue and had been for as long as she could remember. She'd loved this place growing up, and the memories of long summer days filled with ice-cream sandwiches and catching fireflies wrapped around her wounded soul like a quilt. Grateful tears clogged her throat, and she bit her lip.

"This is our stop. Okay for you?" Robin said, and flipped out the kickstand with the heel of his boot. "We can at least get you some clothes and a glass of that bubbly until you figure out where to go next."

"Perfect." She slipped off the bike and stretched, surprised at the stiffness in her thighs. She must have been holding on more tightly than she realized. Tugging off the helmet, she met Robin's gaze.

Their relationship over the years had been mostly snide banter with the occasional big-brother warning mixed in, but he'd gone above and beyond today and it was imperative he knew how much she appreciated it. On a day like this one, that kind of loyalty meant something. She hadn't just lost her almost husband. She'd lost one of her closest friends. Tink and Robin coming through for her was one of the few things she had to cling to.

"You're a saint for rescuing me. I can't thank you enough." She bent and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then turned to jog up the stairs before he could react.

She knew from experience what had happened today was all going to somehow come down on her. Her mother was the queen of assigning blame. Regina made a decision in that second. She wasn't talking to any of them about the merger or anything else until she had some time to lick her wounds and repair her armor. It was going to get ugly, and the accusations would fly, mostly in her direction. "Not your fault, Regina," she muttered.

"Most definitely not," Robin agreed. He climbed onto the porch and gave her shoulder an awkward rub. "I don't care how annoying you are; no one deserves that."

She gaped at him for a second before catching the mirth in his eyes in the moonlight. Taking comfort in the familiar, she snorted. "Me, annoying? This from the guy who used to let the air out of my bike tires on a regular basis."

He bent his head, squinted at the lock, and slipped in the key. "I only did that when you guys would use my Airsoft guns to play Powerpuff Girls."

The laugh that escaped was genuine. "How did you know it was me? Maybe it was Tink."

"Seriously? You labeled them 'Blossom,' 'Bubbles,' and 'Buttercup.' With a label maker."

The door swung open and she followed him in, smiling at the memory. She'd loved that label maker. "You know your sister. If I didn't label everything, we'd fight and she'd take the good one every time and swear it was hers."

"You were a little label-Gestapo back then."

"Still am," she said proudly.

She smelled it when he opened the door: the scent of linseed oil and old linens. For some reason, it soothed her. He flipped on the lights and she peered around. She hadn't been here since high school, but it still looked the same as it had ten years ago. Warm, comfy, lived in. A worn brown sofa took up the center of the room, and in front of it lay a braided rug that covered natural hardwood floors shot with amber and gold. A hulking wood-burning stove took up half of the back wall.

The cottage was the antithesis of every home she'd ever lived in with her own family, which was half the appeal. Still, she couldn't stop herself from straightening the rug with the toe of her pearly slipper.

"It's not the Ritz, but—"

She waved a hand to stop him. "It's home. I couldn't be happier with the choice."

He looked at her for a long moment and nodded. "I'm glad. I'm going to get some of Tink's clothes for you so you can change. You know where everything is. Make yourself comfy."

"Thanks." She stared after him as he went, vowing to stand up for him the next time Tink bitched about what a pain he was. He'd saved her bacon tonight, allowing her to keep at least a shred of dignity by getting her out of there before she resorted to plate flinging and spittle-filled rants. Part of her wished Tink were there, but in a way, Robin was the perfect person for the job. She didn't want to talk about her feelings or share her gruesome revenge plots. Not yet. Right now it hurt to breathe and she needed to just…be.

She waited for the fury to come, but that emotion seemed to be reserved for David. When she thought of Marian, all that came was bone-deep sadness. Twenty years of friendship—no, sisterhood—gone in a flash. Over a man who turned out to be less than a man. Over David.

"I was thinking they'd be a little musty because she hasn't been up this season yet."

Regina swiped the tears away and pasted a smile on her face before turning to face Robin. Saved by the bell again, right before she was about to dissolve into a puddle of sad.

"But she kept them in the cedar chest, so they're not bad at all." He crossed the room, holding up a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie. "These okay?"

She took them with a grateful smile. "Perfect. I'll be back in a second."

It wasn't a second, but it was close. When she got into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror, wedding updo and makeup still half in effect, far less modestly dressed than she'd realized, she wanted to hide there forever. How mortifying. Always gorgeous, Robin had seen her at her worst today, both literally and figuratively. And the slip that hadn't seemed all that revealing when she'd been alone in her bedroom that morning now looked obscene. Thank God The Empress hadn't seen her get onto Robin's bike like this.

Her thoughts spiraled and suddenly, in spite of her embarrassment over Robin having seen her half naked, she couldn't wait to get back into the living room. The thought of being alone right now made her whole body tense. She tore off the slip and stockings and stuffed them into the trash can before tugging on Tink's laze-around-the-house clothes. After scrubbing her face clean, she yanked the pins from her hair and combed it with her fingers.

By the time she got back to Robin, he'd taken off his jacket and started the stove. He looked up from his perch on a stool by the island in the kitchen. "You hungry? I can make some soup or something."

"Not really."

"Are you just planning to stay one night or did you want me to go to the store and get some groceries to last you a few days?"

"I—" She frowned. In her efforts to not think about her now demolished future, she'd been focused on putting one foot in front of the other. For the first time in her well-ordered life, she had no idea what her plans were. "If I need anything, I'll walk down to the general store tomorrow." He stood, and her stomach pitched. "W-where are you going?"

"Home. You don't need me here watching you cry or whatever it is you planned on spending the night doing."

His smooth baritone took on an edge of nervousness that almost made her feel sorry for him. Almost. But the thought of him leaving her by herself squashed it dead, and she prepared to beg if need be.

"I don't want to cry. I don't want to think. Tomorrow, when it's a little less fresh, I'll do my thinking and crying until I decide how to pick up the pieces. But for right now, what I'd like to do is get piss drunk and forget for a few hours." She took a deep breath and wrung her hands together. "And I'd rather not do it alone."

He hesitated for a long second, but when he nodded and faced her, his dark gaze was warm. "Getting drunk and embracing denial?" His lips quirked into a half grin. "Well then, I'm your man."

…

Twenty minutes later they faced off across the coffee table, Regina on the floor close to the wood-burning stove with her feet curled under her bottom, and Robin on the couch. A bottle of Jack Daniel's sat between them, surrounded by eight shot glasses, some full and some half full.

"So, what are the rules of this game?" he asked.

Regina had taken her hair down from the fussy wedding 'do, and dark curls tumbled over her shoulders, making her wan skin look even more so by contrast. It was priority number one to put some color in those cheeks.

"The game is called I Never. The boys used to beg us to play back in college so they could try and take advantage of us later."

He held up a hand as if to warn her to stay on her side of the table. "I'm flattered. Really. But I'm going to need some time to think it over." That got a chuckle from her, which sent a bolt of satisfaction coursing through him.

"I'll try to control myself. So here's how it works. I'm going to say something that I've never done. If you've never done it, either, it's your turn. If you have done it, you drink one of the small shots. If you want to plead the fifth and not answer, you have to drink one of the full shots. Get it?"

"Sounds pretty simple. I'll start," he said.

"Wait, why you?"

"My house, my liquor."

She curled her lip and shook her head. "Geez, what happened to ladies first?"

"I save that mentality for the bedroom. Outside the bedroom, it's an even playing field, so man up."

Her cheeks went pink at that and the fist gripping his gut eased a little. She didn't realize it yet, but she would get through this fine and come out the other side better for it. He'd always felt like her relationship with David had been based more on her feelings of friendship and a responsibility toward her parents than anything else. Not exactly the recipe for a knock-your-socks-off love affair. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her this was the best thing that could've happened to her. Nolan wasn't even close to man enough for Regina. Maybe once she was ready to talk about it, he would lecture her on finding a man who could take care of her right.

Not that it was any of his business.

She cleared her throat and finally responded to his teasing. "The bedroom, very funny."

What was funny was that she'd honed in on that particular phrase. He couldn't stop himself from pushing a little further. "Oh, I'm dead serious, squirt. Just ask around."

Her gaze traveled to his mouth, and her throat worked as she swallowed. Before he could think on that development too hard, she picked up a handful of the cashews they'd commandeered from the kitchen cabinet and lobbed one at him. "Stop trying to embarrass me."

He caught the nut and popped it into his mouth. "Sorry, but you're such an easy mark. Okay, so me first. Let's see. Here's one. I've never…been skydiving before."

Pursing her lips, she thought about that for a second. "I have. On my twenty-first birthday. Craziest thing I've ever done."

He knew that, which was the reason he'd chosen it. If she was determined to get drunk, they might as well get started. He tipped his chin toward the table. "Drink up."

She selected one of the half-filled glasses and tossed back the contents. Her eyes watered as she chased it with a deep pull from a bottle of water. "My turn," she croaked. "I've never…eaten sushi."

He grinned and shook his head. "Me neither. And why would I? Seems like a slap in the face to those poor cavemen who worked long and hard to create fire. Guess that means no drink for me. My turn again. I've never…" He racked his brain for something else he knew about her that might be a little wild. "I've never…gone skinny-dipping."

She sent him a dirty look and picked up another shot. "You are so full of it. In fact, a bunch of us went together in this very lake!"

"True. I'll drink, too, then. I was getting thirsty." He drank his down in one swallow while Regina stared at hers like it was a cup full of poison. "Well?"

"It's worse because now I know what it's going to taste like," she admitted. She glared at it for a second then straightened her shoulders. "Here's mud in your eye." She managed to get it down easier than the first and grinned triumphantly as she slammed the glass back on the table. "My turn. I've never cheated on a test."

He waited to see if she picked up a drink and rolled his eyes when she didn't. "Of course you haven't." He took a shot and she laughed. He liked the sound of it, so from that point on, he made sure to ham it up.

"I've never…seen a rated X movie," he said, picking up another whiskey.

She shrugged. "Nope."

He shook his head incredulously. "That's sad." He drank.

"I've never had a threesome," she said, raising a challenging brow.

He pretended to mull that one over for a second then grabbed a glass before pausing. "Do I have to do one for each incident or…?"

She gaped, her mouth wide enough for him to see her tonsils. "More than once? Seriously?"

"I'll take that as a no and do the one shot," he said with a grin. Truth was, he'd only actually gone through with it once. Not his style. He wanted to focus all his energy on that one person and wring out every drop of pleasure from the lady sharing his bed. It was the one way to be sure she came back for more. He watched Regina refill the glasses in her ordered, precise way, and wondered if David had ever blown her mind.

His tongue was loose from the drinks and curiosity burned a hole in his gut. The words were out before he could stop them. "I've never had multiple orgasms with a man before." He didn't take his eyes off her as she set down the bottle.

For a tense moment, he thought she might opt to drink a full shot to avoid answering either way. He'd clearly set her up, and he wouldn't blame her. Instead, she countered in a voice almost too soft to hear.

"I've never had one orgasm with a man before."

The shot glass fell from his suddenly limp fingers and hit the coffee table with a clunk.

Well, damn.

It was his turn to gape now. Forget blowing her mind, David hadn't been getting Regina off at all. His earlier assertion that the man was a spineless prick now seemed like an insult to spineless pricks everywhere. He was worse than that. He was a selfish, pathetic, spineless prick.

"And this is the man you picked to marry?" he demanded before he thought better of it. "Why would you want to subject yourself to a lifetime of bad sex?"

Her cheeks flushed and she looked away, toying with the hood string of her sweatshirt. "It wasn't bad. It just wasn't…good. Anyway, it wasn't his fault."

"Bullshit." He was surprised at his own vehemence. His instincts bleated out those warnings again, but the haze of liquor relegated them to background noise.

"The problem wasn't David, okay? It was me," she blurted. "I…can't do it. It's complicated."

She looked so utterly miserable that he slapped back the urge to rant about the fucker. Now wasn't the time. Hell, maybe it would never be time, but suddenly he wanted Regina to know it wasn't complicated. In fact, he could make it all very, very simple.

Blood pumped south, and his cock swelled as images of Regina sprawled out beneath him filled his head. He plucked up another glass and drank it down. "That one was just because I'm thirsty," he said, and sat back. "Listen, squirt, with every hour that passes, it's becoming more and more obvious to me that you got lucky today finding out what kind of person he really is. You were together how long?"

She held up three fingers. "Almost two years." She looked at her hand and did a double take before using her other hand to fold down her index finger.

Good. She might be too drunk to count, but at least she wasn't crying. "And he still couldn't make you come? That's a lot of time to figure out what makes you tick."

"That's the problem. Nothing makes me tick. My ticker's broken, I think." She picked up the bottle and swirled it absently, pretending to be enthralled with the liquid inside rather than meeting his gaze.

"That's what guys who don't understand how to handle the delicate gears of a clock will tell you. I'm telling you something different. I may be a lot of things, but I'm no liar."

"It wasn't only him, though. There was a guy in college. That was just as ba—" She set the bottle down and seemed to regroup. "I mean, with him, too, I couldn't…yanno."

She waggled her brows until he nodded his understanding, a smile tugging at his lips.

"We tried, believe me. We flipped through the Kama Sutra and picked out some of the positions, but he had an issue with his electrolytes and kept getting cramps." She was totally straight-faced, as if that were the most logical explanation in the world.

"You don't need to be a human pretzel, Regina. There are dozens, hell, hundreds of ways to come without stretching into strange positions."

Her eyes widened. "Hundreds? Are you sure?" Before he could answer, she shook her head. "That doesn't matter, anyway. Sex isn't that important. At least, not as important as companionship, and respect, and—"

"Bullshit," he said again.

She turned slightly unfocused but indignant eyes on him. "You don't think those things are important?"

"Of course, they are. But so is sex. Otherwise why not have everyone be just friends? We can all sit around a campfire and sing 'Kumbaya' together and talk about how much we respect each other."

"Don't make fun of me, Robin. Just because we don't agree doesn't mean you're right."

"We don't agree because you have no clue what you're talking about. It's like trying to talk boxing with a lawyer." He couldn't resist another not-so-subtle jab at David. "There's no frame of reference for him to work off of. Same goes here for you."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, leaning over the table until his face was only a foot from hers. "If you've never had a man trail his fingertips over every inch of your naked body until he figured out what made you squirm…"

The instant dilation of her pupils gave him pause and left his cock twitching. He pressed on, determined to make his point.

"If you've never had a man lick you from your navel to your knees…"

She flicked her tongue out to moisten her lips.

"If you've never had a man slide deep, in and out, until your head tossed on the pillow and you begged for more…" His voice had gone dark and gravelly, and he swallowed hard. "Then how can you possibly understand the importance of sexuality in a relationship?"

The room that had crackled with warmth and comfort a few minutes before felt hot and tense. The silence was thick, broken only by harsh breathing and the hooting of owls in the distance.

"I don't know," she whispered finally, breaking the all but palpable connection between them. "I just don't know." She knocked back a drink and swiped the back of her hand over her mouth.

He sat back, opting to let her off the hook. It wasn't the time to push her on this—or any other—issue. When she realized that she'd dodged a bullet with David, maybe he could convince her that she deserved passion in her life. And damned if he didn't want to give her the first taste.

Not tonight, though. She was still hurting, so he forced himself to steer things back to a safer path. "Your turn," he said with what he hoped was an affable smile.

An hour later, the bottle between them was almost—he squinted and tried to bring it into focus—three-quarters of the way empty. They'd ceased any pretense of keeping up the game and had spent the last thirty minutes talking. Not about Regina's situation but about everything else. Her job as marketing director for her family's law firm, his last business deal, and what he planned to do later on in life. At some point as they talked, she'd made her way onto the couch next to him and had burrowed her bare feet under his thighs.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out to peer at the text.

Call me.

"I've got to call Tink. You want to talk?"

She shook her head. "Not right now."

He hit the call button and his sister picked up after one ring. "Hey."

"Where'd you end up taking her?"

"The cottage."

"You drove her all the way to the cottage in her wedding dress?"

He paused, wondering how much he should say, and went for a half truth. "No, she, ah, took that off at the reception hall." The buttons and the ripping and the creamy skin and his subsequent boner? Not relevant. "In fact, it's probably still in the back parking lot."

Tink cracked out a shocked laugh. "Woo-hoo! Good for her. I'm going to have to get her a plaque or something to celebrate her total kick-assery for doing that. Did you guys stop and get her a new phone before you dropped her off? I'm worried about her being alone."

"I'm still with her." Tink was quiet for so long, he wondered if the call had been dropped. "Hello?"

"I'm here."

Her suspicious tone made him feel twitchy, so he hurried to explain. "You said it. She didn't want to be alone, and I didn't feel right leaving her."

"You're being nice, right?"

"Of course," he grumbled. "What am I, a monster?"

"Well, should I come there? After dealing with the guests, all the details, and Regina's mother, I'm stone cold sober now, so I don't mind driving up."

She definitely sounded sober, but she also sounded exhausted. It couldn't have been an easy night holding down the fort and keeping Regina's family at bay. From what he knew of her, Cora Mills was one tough bitch. "I don't think you need to. We're managing fine, and she'll need you more tomorrow, I'm sure."

"How is she holding up so far?"

He snuck a glance at Regina. Her head had lolled to the side. Light snores trembled on her lips and he resisted the urge to run his thumb across the plump bottom one. "She's good, considering."

"Does she want to talk to me?"

"She's sleeping right now. I'll have her call you in the morning."

"It's only eight o'clock at night," she protested. "Wait, are you guys drunk?"

"Her, totally. Me…mostly."

She chuckled on the other end of the line. "Good. She's so uptight sometimes, I was afraid she wouldn't let herself have a day to break down a little. I was half thinking she'd be in a hotel somewhere writing apology letters to the wedding guests and re-mapping her future out on a spreadsheet or whatever." She paused. "Listen, I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm sure you're doing a great job, and I feel a lot better knowing she's got someone there looking out for her."

They said their goodbyes and he disconnected, setting the phone on the coffee table.

Regina stirred, opening her eyes. "Tink worried?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but I told her you were handling it like a champ."

She used the arm of the couch to drag herself into a sitting position. "You really think so? Because it sure doesn't feel that way."

Her hair was sticking out in all directions and he reached out to pat it into place. "I do."

When he pulled back, she clutched his hand to her cheek and murmured, "Thanks again for all of this."

He allowed himself to stroke the soft skin with his finger for a second before pulling away. "No sweat. You ready to get some sleep?"

"Not yet. Please?"

"It's early, so I'm good to stay up for a while if you are."

"What time is it?"

"Not even nine o'clock."

Her eyes clouded with sadness and she shook her head. "Nine o'clock. That's what time the limo was supposed to pick us up."

"What do you mean?"

"David and me. We were supposed to leave for our honeymoon late tonight. Hey! There's one for I Never." She bent forward, and this time she didn't even bother with the glass. "I've never been on an amazing vacation to Rio De Janerio," she said, and took a shot straight from the bottle, but she didn't stop there, thrusting it in the air for emphasis. "On the beach, with sugar-white sand and aquamarine water. And mojitos with umbrellas in them instead of this crap."

Her tone was incongruously jovial and he knew she'd reached point break. She moved to drink more of "that crap" but he stayed her hand.

"No more. You're going to make yourself sick."

The borderline hysteria faded from her eyes and she let him take the bottle. "I'm already sick," she mumbled, absently mopping up a few spilled drops of whiskey with the sleeve of her shirt.

He set the bottle on the table and gave her arm a tug until she toppled into his chest. "It's going to get better. I promise you," he whispered into her sweet-smelling hair.

"I know it will. But right now, it blows. I've never been on a real trip without my parents. I was so excited. It felt so decadent and fun. I thought…"

"You thought?"

"I thought I could be someone else for a couple of weeks. And maybe David could be someone else, too. We could do all the fun, wild things we—well, at least, I—imagined doing. I know that sounds so stupid."

The thought hit him like an oncoming bus, and no matter how hard he tried to squash it, his liquor-soaked brain wouldn't let it go. He pushed her away. "Let's play truth or dare."

"Wait, wha?" Visibly baffled by the abrupt change in subject, she stared at him, a question in her eyes.

"Truth or dare. Let's play," he pressed.

She held up her hands in surrender. "Uh, okay."

"I'll go first. Do you want truth or dare?" He tried not to let the importance of her answer show on his face, but it was all riding on this. If he truly wanted to help her—and God help him, but for some strange reason, he did—he needed to set her free. Over the past few hours, he had realized how much she deserved that, and he wouldn't rest easy until he'd done it. He was going to find a way to show her what she'd missed living under her parents' thumbs. If only she'd let him…

She finally met his gaze after a long pause, fire lighting her eyes, and he knew her answer before she even spoke.

"Dare."

Sunlight streamed in through the window, like red knives piercing her closed lids. Regina rolled to her side to escape it, wincing as her knee connected with something harder than itself.

"Oof. What the hell?" a low, male voice hissed.

She lurched into a sitting position, regretting it instantly as pain exploded in her temples and the whole room began to spin. Clutching at her aching head, she turned to see Robin stretched out on the bed next to her.

"Sorry," he said through gritted teeth. "It's just, when you gave me that nice little wakeup kick to the Johnson, you grazed my nuts. Makes it hard to be polite."

He sat up, sucking long breaths in through his nose and blowing them out his mouth, moving the sheet in the process. His broad shoulders came into view, and she found herself needing to do the whole breathing thing, too. Man, he was fit. His traps were thick and strong. Hard-looking, like—

Oh my God. She kneed him in the wiener. And oh my frigging God, it was like stone.

The gauzy white curtains across the room fluttered in the balmy breeze, inviting and coy. So unlike the curtains in the Locksley family cabin. Memories from the previous night battered around in her mind until she settled on the only one that mattered right now.

They'd done it. They'd really done it.

"I dare you to go on your honeymoon without him," Robin had said last night. "I'll even go with you to keep you company. I could use the rest. I just came off a big business deal overseas. I need a vacation. You'd be doing me a favor."

"You're insane!" Even as tipsy as she'd been, it had taken her almost twenty minutes to talk herself into it. She'd tossed up every roadblock she could think of at first, ticking them off on her fingers as she went, ending with, "The flight's probably sold out by now and you don't have a ticket."

"Well, if David doesn't show up, then they'll obviously have an open seat for standbys," he'd said, a challenging gleam in his eye.

They'd gone to her apartment to pick up her bags and then went straight to the airport. By the time their flight was called a couple hours later, though, she'd been as sober as a nun and had almost backed out. Robin must have seen it coming, because he had leaned in close to whisper, "Bock. Bock."

For a long moment, she'd just gaped at him. "Seriously? You're seriously going to make chicken noises at me? What are we, ten?"

He'd just folded his arms over his chest and grinned.

"Last call for all passengers on flight twenty-three to Rio De Janerio, Brazil," the ticket agent had squawked through the loudspeaker.

"What's it going to be, squirt?"

Maybe it had been the bock-ing. Maybe it was that stupid nickname that he wouldn't let die. Or maybe it was that, when she had gone through her alternatives one last time, the thought of staying home and dealing with the aftermath of the wedding just yet was too much to bear. Whatever it was, she'd gotten on that plane. They were now at the Copacabana Rio Hotel.

And now she was on what was to be her honeymoon with Robin Locksley.

Panic threw a splash of nausea into the pitching cauldron of noxious brew that was her stomach, and she groaned.

"It's okay. It's going to be fine." His words and the awkward pat on her shoulder barely registered as she rolled off the bed and stood, scrabbling for the headboard when the room tilted.

When she thought she could stand it, she opened her eyes, made her way over to the window, and pushed the curtain aside.

"I can't believe we're here," she whispered. When they'd arrived in the wee hours that morning, it had still been dark, and after having more drinks on the plane to bolster her waning courage, neither of them had been able to muster up the energy to do more than fall into the only made-up bed in the villa. She stared out at paradise for a long moment and then turned to take in the room—the wash of paint the color of ripe peaches and the sparse, cream-colored wicker furniture—as what had started out as a dare suddenly became very real.

Her partner in crime scrubbed a hand over his wickedly handsome face before grinning at her. "Welcome to Brazil."

Terror joined what was left of yesterday's libations and sent her stomach lurching. She booked it to the adjacent bathroom and retched.

Ten endless minutes later, her aching stomach was finally empty and she stood under the warm spray in the shower. Every time her thoughts veered to the topic of Marian, David, or even Robin, her brain started to hurt, so she steadfastly refused to think about anything but the mundane task of lathering, rinsing, and repeating. When she stepped out a short while later, her stomach had settled, and the hot shower had downgraded her headache from ghastly to uncomfortable.

She ran a plush towel over the fogged mirror and groaned at the bloodshot eyes staring back at her. She'd done something crazy last night. Something totally out of character. And here she was, an almost married woman in Brazil with a man who was more childhood crush than friend. A man who made her feel too much and do crazy, out of character things. So now what?

Now she had to go out and talk to Robin, and explain why they had to leave. Or, why she did, at least. He could stay if he wanted. He had bought his own ticket, and since the villa was already paid for, someone might as well enjoy it. Maybe he'd meet a sexy señorita—

Her newly settled tummy pitched at the thought. What the heck was the matter with her? From the second she'd laid eyes on him twenty years ago, she'd known one thing. He would never see her as more than his sister's irritating friend. He was…everything. Gorgeous and funny and smart and strong. And she was still just the other slice of white bread. A flavorless afterthought. A foil for the deliciousness inside. Not remarkable enough for a boy who crackled with life like Robin Locksley.

She'd accepted that as fact early on and had relegated her feelings to the deepest corner of her heart, never sharing them. Not even with Tink or Marian. Eventually, she'd learned to live with the sting of standing by while he paraded around the latest cheerleader in his life, clueless to her pain. And eventually, she'd moved on and lived her own life, engaging in a few awkward relationships with guys more her speed, despite the floopy feeling she still got in her gut whenever he was around. And then she ended up with David. Surely, after all this time, her heart should have gotten the memo? It was ridiculous, given the total lack of encouragement on his end. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to discourage her attention at every turn, teasing her mercilessly, debating with her over anything and everything, baiting her into petty arguments.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday, he'd been sweet, and thoughtful, and plain perfect. He'd come to her rescue like…like a knight on shining Harley. She snort-laughed at the ludicrous thought and picked up her comb. Leave it to her to romanticize a nice gesture. He'd done nothing more than help out his sister's friend. No need to read into it more deeply than that. He was probably out there right now, mired in regret, and ready to gnaw off his own limb to escape the bear trap he'd found himself in. He'd be ecstatic when she let him off the hook.

After a few swipes with the comb, she tugged her hair into a loose knot and clipped it, then slicked on some lip gloss. She pulled on the tank top and boxers she'd slept in and turned toward the door. Time to convince him she was okay, and his duty was done. Pasting on a smile, she stepped into the bedroom, but he was nowhere to be found. Music drifted from the living room, and she followed the strains of the salsa into the suite's main room.

"Hey there. Feel better?"

The speech she'd planned died on her lips, unspoken as she took in the scene before her. Robin sat in a lounge chair out on the terrace in board shorts and nothing else. His swarthy skin gleamed in the sunlight, the dips and valleys of his muscles so cut and defined that they could've been drawn on with a Sharpie.

"Regina?"

She cleared her throat, dragging her gaze upward to meet his. "Y-yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Yep. You're hot." Her cheeks burned. "I mean…it's hot. Out here. So that's why I'm, yanno…hot." She fanned her cheeks for good measure. Brilliant.

His dark eyes danced with mirth. "So, now that we've established that Rio is warm, how are you feeling?"

She looked away. "I'm better, thanks."

"I ordered some breakfast. Just fruit, yogurt, and some toast. I didn't think your stomach could handle much else." He gestured to the spread in front of him. "Sit and eat, and then we can talk. You want coffee?"

She stepped through the French doors and onto the white tiled floor. The warm breeze flirted with the wisps of hair around her face, and she sighed.

"It's so beautiful here."

In spite of the music playing in the background, she could hear the ocean lapping at the shore only a hundred yards away. She walked the length of the patio, around a small swimming pool, until she could see it. Gorgeous. Caribbean blue, so pure it didn't seem real. Her throat went tight with regret.

"I can't stay, though," she whispered, then faced Galen. "I can't stay," she repeated, louder this time for his benefit.

His face gave away nothing, but he stood and pulled out a chair for her. "Come here."

She doubted she could eat, but she sat anyway. He flipped over her mug and poured her some coffee.

"They didn't give us cream. I think we have to order American coffee if we want it next time."

Next time.

"That's okay, I like it like this. But I was serious, Robin. There won't be a next time. I need to borrow your phone and make arrangements to go home. My parents are probably a wreck. This was totally irresponsible of me, and I have to make it right."

He set his cup down and met her gaze. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"I mean, you didn't fuck everything up. David did. So why do you have to make it right? You didn't do anything wrong."

Easy for him to say. In spite of her mother's feelings on the subject, once her dad got wind of what had happened, there was no way he would allow the merger to go forward until she talked to him. He might have been something of an absentee father, but he wouldn't take kindly to someone mistreating his little girl this way. And there was still The Empress to deal with.

She sighed. "There are people to call and apologies to be made. I can't hide in a bubble while everything goes to pot around me. This isn't two people deciding to call it quits. We have a merger in the works here, too. My father will pull the plug on the whole thing in a misguided effort to protect me. The merger is a good thing for both firms, and I don't want it on my conscience that it didn't pan out. Everyone shouldn't be punished because David couldn't keep it in his pants. I've got to go and talk to my dad and the board and work this through."

His eyes widened incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Your fiancee banged your bridesmaid on your wedding day, and you think you should be expected to deal with PR issues and play Miss Manners right this second? Come on, Regina, even your mother couldn't expect that."

The barb about her mother stung, but he had reasons for his animosity. Growing up, The Empress had never gotten used to her friendship with the less affluent, wild "Locksley girl." The Locksleys had inherited the cheapest house in their pricey neighborhood from a distant aunt, and Regina's mother had never let anyone forget it.

In spite of her mother's desperate attempts to keep the girls apart, Regina's friendship with Tink was the one thing Regina wouldn't budge on. Her mother could pick out her clothes, make her change schools, and could even try to pick her boyfriends. But Tink was too precious to lose. She was a beam of light in the perpetual smog of Regina's dreary days. The person who taught her how to kiss by demonstrating on a pillow, and got her to sing into a brush in front of the mirror. If not for her, sometimes Regina thought she would've withered up and died.

And she certainly had no delusions about her mother. "You'd be surprised what my mother expects."

"I guess I misspoke. What I meant was, it's not reasonable to ask that of you." He reached out and covered her hand with his own. "Stay."

His fingers were warm on her wrist. She swallowed hard as electricity pulsed between them. "I don't get it. W-why is it so important?"

"Because I want you to."

"You don't even like me."

He shoved himself back from the table and stood. "That's the last time I want to hear that," he said, a warning in his tone. Two steps brought him to her side, towering over her. He pulled her to her feet and she wound up nose to flat male nipple.

She moistened her suddenly dry lips. "Well, we haven't exactly been great friends all these years."

"We're friends now, okay? I wouldn't be here if we weren't. Besides, what guy hangs out with his little sister's bestie? You guys were three years behind me. That would've been creepy. But we're adults now. And hey?" Mercifully, he nudged her chin up so her gaze was no longer locked on that tempting chest of his. "I'm sorry it took me so long to recognize that. When I moved out to the city, I thought when I got back everything would still be the same. I guess I fell back into the old routine of yanking your chain without really taking into account that you'd grown up. In my defense, once you started dating David, it was easy, what with all the ammunition."

His pearly teeth flashed in a wolfish grin that she found herself returning. "I'm starting to wonder if maybe I was drugged or something. He is sort of a weird choice," she admitted ruefully. In fact, as she thought of him now, even the anger had started to fade.

Robin nodded. "See what I mean? After a couple weeks here, you're going to go home as convinced as I am that this was all for the best."

"Maybe it's more than that, though." She paused, her throat aching. "I never in a million years thought Marian would do this to me." Her voice cracked on the end, and she cursed herself for being such a wimp. But damn, it hurt. "Was it my fault, Robin? Did I do something to make this happen?"

"No. Not even a little bit. Hell, even if you were a nightmare of a friend and a terrible fiancée, it wouldn't be your fault. He should've broken up with you if he didn't want you."

She laughed bitterly. "Thanks loads."

"You didn't let me finish." He brushed away the tears on her cheeks with his thumb. "Thing is? I've known you a long time, and I know for a fact you were neither of those things. You were a great friend to Tink and a better woman than a guy like David could ever hope for. They don't deserve you. Not him, and not her."

She sniffled and swiped a hand over her eyes. "You say that, but you don't even li—"

"Stop that. I like you fine. Hell, more than fine." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, but he hesitated for a beat too long, tracing the shell with his forefinger. Just that simple touch sent a shiver through her, and she pulled back.

"Regina, I—"

The theme song from Star Wars blared from the pocket of his shorts. He lowered his hand and stepped back. "That's Tink." He rolled his eyes. "And so you know, I didn't program that song in—she did."

Regina nodded dumbly and stepped back, grateful for the reprieve. She didn't know what kind of strange voodoo was going on with Robin, but this seemingly newfound awareness on his part was driving her nutty. How she felt about him had always been one-sided. Now the chemistry was crackling from all angles, and it scared the crap out of her.

Not that it mattered. Sure, it had hurt that David cheated. And sure, she was embarrassed and angry that someone she cared about had broken her trust. But even though she'd come to the not-so-stunning realization that she hadn't been in love with him.

"How is everything going?" she asked as he disconnected. "Didn't she want to talk to me?"

"Nope. She said to call her later. She contacted your mom and dad to let them know you came to Rio De Janerio, so that's taken care of."

Regina had forgotten that they'd called Tink last night to tell her their plan. Her friend had been all for it. Her only gripe was that she couldn't join them because of the spring collection she had to finish putting together at work.

"She also said that David's been looking for you. She didn't tell him where you were, but he wants you to call him."

She snorted, and he shrugged.

"I'm only the messenger. For what it's worth, Tink agrees with me one hundred percent. We both think you should stay."

Nerves sent her heart pounding as she finally allowed herself to seriously consider that option. Could she do it?

"Don't think about me, or Tink, or David. Don't think about your parents or what their snobby country club friends will say or what the board wants. What do you want to do, Regina?" His eyes delved deep, searching for something she couldn't name. She felt like she was standing on a precipice, and no matter which way she turned, she was going down hard. "Are you willing to take on this new adventure with me?"

Just when he thought she was going to bail for the second time in twenty-four hours, she shocked him. Steeling her shoulders, she tipped her chin to meet his gaze. "Okay. I'll stay. If I can talk my dad down some."

It was what he wanted, so the fear nipping at the heels of his euphoria was a little confusing. He didn't let on, though. She was one flimsy excuse from changing her mind, and he wasn't about to give it to her. Why should being in close quarters with her scare him, anyway? He was a big boy, and he could handle it, even if he had to spend the next two weeks taking cold showers in order to do it.

He filed that problem under "shit to deal with later" and gave her a thumbs-up. "Excellent. Let's eat, then you can call your father while I pack a bag. We're going to the beach."

She popped off a snotty salute. "Yes sir."

They made short work of their light meal, and he handed his phone over so she could make her calls. He packed quickly and had just zipped the beach bag closed when she came into the bedroom a short while later, the crease in her brow less pronounced. That was a good sign.

"How did it go?"

"With my father?" She shrugged, handing his phone to him. "Better than I expected, actually. He's furious with David, but he agreed to wait until I got back to make any decisions about the merger. Then he told me I'd better call my mother, because she's flipping out. I made him promise not to give her this number and asked him to try to calm her down. He's going to do his best."

"Great. You look less stressed already."

"I feel a little better. Like I can unplug for a while and maybe everything won't fall apart around me worse than it already has."

"Let's hit the beach," he said.

She nodded, but held out her hand for the bag. "Did you pack towels?"

"Of course."

"Sunblock?"

"Yep." He crossed his arms over his chest as she spent the next ten minutes pawing through the bag and reorganizing everything he'd packed. "You might be surprised to know that I'm a grown man who has packed a bag a time or two in his day."

"I know that, but it's better to spend a few minutes double-checking than getting down to the beach and realizing we forgot something."

She must have heard the prissy tone in her voice because her cheeks turned pink and she zipped the bag closed. "Let's just go."

An hour later, Robin found himself sitting under an umbrella on a lounge chair, seriously questioning his sanity. What the hell had he been thinking taking her to the beach? It had been bad enough with her prancing around in boxer shorts and a tank top, but this was ridiculous. She'd started off in some sort of muumuu-type cover-up, but after twenty minutes in the sultry heat, she'd seemed to gather her courage and had shucked it off. He, along with every other guy on that spit of beach, had nearly swallowed his tongue.

She stood before him now against the backdrop of crystal blue water in a nefarious white string bikini. Four triangles of cloth clung to her with no more aid than a slender chain on each curve of hip and one looped around her neck. It was enough to rock his socks off.

"Does it look stupid?" She wrapped her arms around her waist, which only succeeded in pressing her breasts together, plumping them against the edge of her suit, which, in turn, sent something plumping against his. "It looks stupid. I'm going to go to the gift shop and get a tank suit. I don't know what I was thinking."

She retrieved her cover-up and was in the process of tugging it back on by the time he finally trusted himself to speak. "Don't."

She paused and met his gaze. "I look silly. This isn't me. I'm not ballsy enough to pull this off." She bit her lip and turned away. "I just wanted…"

"I know what you wanted." He would've stood, but his physiological response to her state of undress made that impossible unless he wanted to get himself arrested for indecent exposure. "You wanted to let go, have some fun, do something different and exciting." The genuine sadness in her eyes kept him from adding, And for the record, I'm different and exciting.

She clutched the brightly patterned cloth more tightly in her hands. "Yeah."

"So I don't know why you're trying to talk yourself out of it now. The hard stuff is over. You dumped the groom, ran out on your wedding reception, and jumped on the back of a Harley in your slip. Then you got drunk and flew to Brazil with your best friend's older brother, who, incidentally, thinks you look smoking hot. Who's got more balls than you?" he asked, allowing some annoyance to trickle into his tone. His baiting her was terra firma for them both. Hopefully the familiarity of it would remind her that he was, and always had been, a straight shooter. He wasn't blowing smoke up her ass here. A lot of people in her shoes would've crumbled after yesterday, but she'd handled that lights-out blow to the chin better than most of the heavyweights he'd fought.

Her eyes went so wide, she could've been a cartoon. "Y-You think I look hot?" Her wringing hands went limp and her cover-up fell to the sand.

He considered backpedaling rather than revealing exactly how much she affected him, but one look at the hope on her face killed that notion. Instead, he played it matter-of-fact. "I don't think it, squirt. I know it. It's like water's wet, the sky is blue, Regina looks fine as hell in her bikini." He shrugged. "Facts are facts. You've gotta get some confidence working because I think your view of yourself is skewed. Fake it until you make it."

She lifted her hands to cross them over her midsection again, but then froze, letting them drop to her sides. Sucking in a deep breath, she nodded, then snagged the cover-up. "I'll try," she said, and folded it into a neat little square before setting it on her chair.

His little head thanked him for the return of the visual smorgasbord while his big head cursed him for not minding his own damned business. He'd put himself in a terrible spot here. Sure, he wanted to make her feel better, but at this rate, he was going to have a Guinness Book–worthy case of blue balls.

"Want to go for a swim?" he asked, more out of self-preservation than anything. Cold water would be a godsend right now.

"I do, but most of my skin hasn't seen the sun since summer, and some of these parts have never seen it." She gestured to the smooth expanse of flat stomach. "I've got to slather on SPF five thousand until I get a base tan."

He jammed a hand into the duffel bag he'd packed and pulled out the bottle of sunscreen.

"Smart thinking." Only now he had to watch her apply it. He tossed it to her, and then settled back against the chair as if he were going to relax a while. As she uncapped the bottle and poured some lotion into her palm, he pinched his eyes closed. He would not think about her working that lotion over his cock until he came. He would not imagine bending her over and massaging it into her ass cheeks, his fingers trailing closer and closer to the heat between her thighs until she begged for more. He would not look, because that would only make it w—

His lids lifted of their own accord, and he heard himself ask, "Do you need help with your back?"

"Nope, I already got it. I do yoga so I'm super flexible."

He bit back a groan. He definitely could've done without that little nugget of information. Now not only could he visualize them having wild monkey sex, he could also imagine doing it in some very creative positions.

She turned and jogged toward the ocean. He found himself mesmerized by the swing of her hips. "You coming?" she called over her shoulder.

Not yet, but that could be arranged in short order.

Damn, he was a perv. He really needed to do something about that. "Right behind you."

She stopped at the edge of the water and dipped a careful toe in. Then she ran straight into the spray with reckless abandon, her delighted laughter spurring him to his feet. He covertly adjusted his man-junk as best he could and stood. There were at least a dozen other women reclined on colorful beach towels, similarly clothed, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Regina.

By the time he reached the water, she was submerged up to her neck. He thanked God for small favors. The cool ocean lapped at his ankles as he watched her swim. Behind her, a monster wave was swelling. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Incoming!"

She turned her head and squealed, paddling toward him. At first he thought she was afraid and started toward her, but then he realized she was laughing. Right as the wave crested, she stretched her arms straight in front of her and came blasting his way, skimming across the top of the water like she was resting on a surfboard. The immense power of the ocean and the exhilaration on her face sent his heart pounding. The wave finally deposited her in a heap at his feet. The back of her white bikini bottoms was covered in mud and her top was…

Gone.

"That was so much fun. Come do one with me!" She was lying in the shallow water on her stomach and rose to a kneel before he could stop her. Her full breasts were streaked with wet sand, but it didn't hide the twin hard peaks beckoning him. The blood drained from his brain, all headed south, and words wouldn't come. He did manage to step closer, blocking her from the sun worshippers on the shore behind him.

Her smile dimmed. "What's the matter? You don't like salt water?"

"I like it fine." His voice was gritty and he cleared his throat. "But you need to get back all the way in and lie on your stomach."

She shot him a puzzled glance and then followed his gaze downward. Letting out a strangled "Gack!" she didn't so much lay back down as she did pitch forward into the shallow water, flat on her face. She came up sputtering and spat out a mouthful of sand before slapping her hands over her breasts. Frantically, she squirmed toward deeper water, but down two working appendages and fighting the incoming waves, she wasn't getting anywhere.

A child's giggles broke the spell Regina's naked breasts had weaved over him, and he realized a family was entering the water right next to them. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he tugged her up into an embrace, pressing her chest to his. "Wrap your arms around me," he said against her ear. "I'm going to stand and carry you out farther so no one can see you. Then, I'm going to go back to shore and get your cover-up, all right?"

She burrowed her head into the crook of his neck and nodded. There was a long pause and then she released her breasts to snake her arms around his neck. He sucked in a breath as her softness smashed against his hardness. The cool slide of her skin against his sent a sizzle of lust through him, so strong he nearly toppled over.

"This is so mortifying. This is why I don't do anything wild or crazy. I suck at it. One bikini in my whole life and look what happens. Even when we were young, your sister used to say I was the kiss of death because whenever she convinced me to do something fun, I always ended up getting us caught or screwing it up somehow."

He focused on her panicked babbling and clutched her thighs to stabilize her, forcing his feet to propel them forward.

"You okay? Am I too heavy?"

"Nope, I needed to adjust my grip, is all." He stood, lifting her with him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He hadn't thought that far ahead and groaned as her thighs straddled him, lining her pubic bone directly against the throbbing heat of his cock. She stiffened in his arms and gasped, the babbling coming to a screeching halt. His starving brain cast around fruitlessly for another way to carry her, but this was the only way to preserve her modesty, which in turn obliterated his.

When the water was deep enough to swim in, the strength of the waves began to rock her body against his in a torturous rhythm. The need to rock back, grinding into her softness, was so strong he had to stop for a second and get a grip. That's when he felt it. The subtle shift of her hips as her body pressed closer, pulsing against his, as if driven by instinct. She clutched at his shoulders, burrowing closer, her nipples pebbling against his chest. The blast of want hit him so hard, he had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning.

Clutching at her thighs, he anchored her still. "Stop wriggling," he said. His voice was low, gruff, and strained.

She froze. "S-sorry."

The warm puff of air against his ear and the break in her voice almost threw him right over the edge. What would Little Regina Mills do if he stripped aside those tiny bikini bottoms and buried himself in her again and again until she screamed?

Not the plan, asshole.

He took a steadying breath and strode purposefully into the surf, reciting his times tables as he went. He wouldn't think about how soft her breasts were, pillowed against him. Or how her tight little nipples were branding his chest. Or how they'd looked in the morning sunshine, pouty, glistening with ocean water, begging for his tongue.

"Okay, good enough," he announced abruptly, and released her, stepping back like she was on fire.

She covered her breasts again, dipping low until she was immersed in the blue water.

He averted his gaze and cleared his throat. "We're the only ones out this far, so if you turn to face the open ocean, no one will see," he said, his voice almost guttural now. Too bad. He didn't want to shock her, but he was only flesh and blood, and there was nothing he could do about it.

She didn't respond to his suggestion and wouldn't look at him.

"Regina?" Still nothing. Shit. She was upset. He struggled to find words over the cacophony of his roaring libido. "It's no big deal. Don't let this derail you. You came here to let loose, to get away from the drama at home. Now you have a funny story to tell." He tipped her chin so she had no choice but to look at him. "Talk to me, squirt."

When she finally met his gaze, he wished she hadn't. Her pupils were dilated, her nostrils flaring lightly as she struggled for air. The pulse in her neck fluttered, and he stared at it, overcome with the desire to close his teeth over the delicate skin there. The adrenaline rush of the situation may have intensified her feelings, but one thing was clear that hadn't been the night before. Her body's reaction to him wasn't a fluke. She was as hot for him as he was for her.

"This is because I want you so bad, it's making me question my sanity." He tipped his head low as blood rushed to his ears, the grind of need demanding that he slant his mouth over hers and take and take and take. But when his lips touched hers, he was consumed by an even stronger desire to sip and nip and taste. He traced her plump bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, then sank his teeth softly into the tender flesh.

"Oh, my," she whispered.

He breathed in her gasp and smiled against her mouth. "Oh your what?"

"That's nice." She shimmied closer to him, wedging herself between the V of his thighs, smashing her soft breasts against his chest. "Again," she demanded.

He groaned and dove in for more. She wrapped her slim arms around his waist and clung to him, sliding her tongue against his, whimpering low in her throat. She sucked at his bottom lip, each pull of her mouth sending a pulse of pleasure through him. Her mouth was liquid fire, sweet and tart from the drink, and it took all of his will not to consume her. Take complete control of the kiss and more. So much more…

Only a kiss.

She nipped him then, sweeping her tongue over the sensitive flesh on the inside of his bottom lip. Her boldness sent blood rushing to his cock and he tipped his hips closer, trying to ease the ache. She responded with a moan of approval, grinding her pelvic bone against him in the most erotic of dances. Her breasts heaved against his chest, the softness beckoning him. He trailed his fingers from the soft curve of hip over the dip of her waist and traced her rib cage. The pulsing of her hips against him grew faster, harder as his thumb traced patterns right where her bra met skin.

"Please," she murmured against his mouth.

Goddammit, this was only supposed to be a kiss, his conscience bellowed. But as he pulled back and saw the naked hunger on her face, he could no more deny her at that moment than he could sprout wings and fly away.

The upper swell of her breast came into view, her tight little nipple. His cock bucked against his trunks, and he groaned.

"One taste," he promised, not sure whether he was trying to convince her or himself.

He bent low as he lowered his mouth to the dusky peak. First, a close-mouthed kiss. Then, the flick of his tongue. She stiffened in his arms.

"Oh my God," she whimpered.

"Please, Robin, I—" She whimpered, clutching fistfuls of his hair in her hands.

Her hips fluttered now, moving counterpoint to his thrusts. His name was a litany on her lips and her body tensed, straining against him. She was close. God, she was so fucking close. And his cock was loaded for bear and he was a suck, fuck, or jerk away from the point of no return.

The last working part of his brain sent up a warning flare. They should stop. But, damn, she was so ready…

As if she could hear his thoughts, she froze. "I-I can't do this. I'm not ready yet."

He wanted to howl with disappointment, but he knew she was right. She'd feel guilty if they finished this, regardless of the fact that she had nothing to feel guilty for. And no matter what her body was telling him, he didn't want to be responsible for her regret. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, slipping her panties back in place and releasing her nipple with a muttered curse. "You're right. We should get back anyway."

He held her gaze and traced his finger over the delicate line of her collarbone and adjusted her bra. "This isn't over, though. Something's going on here and we're going to need to figure out what to do about it eventually." He let his gaze slide down her front to where her nipples still pressed taut against wet satin. "I have several suggestions if you want to hear them."

Despite the heat in her eyes at his words, she shook her head vigorously. "Nope. That's a bad idea. Will you get my top please?"

"I'll be right back," Robin said. "And then we'll go see the sights."

Regina stood there standing in the water in Brazil, wondering how her life had altered so much in matter of days.

Later on they were at the Christ the Redeemer statue of Jesus Christ. They had taken the tram from the Corcovado train station up Corcovado mountain. By the time they arrived the sun was setting, there was at least another hundred people there. They both did poses like the statue, with the other snapping photos, even asking another passerby to snap one of them together.

"This view is spectacular," Regina said as she gazed upon the city's beauty from this view.

"Stunning, in every way," Robin said. Regina turned her head from the city and saw him looking at her, his piercing blue eyes looking as if into her very soul, her very essence. She knew he had not said those words about the city, but about her.

"So where do we go from here?" Regina asked.

"That's up to you. What sort of adventure would you like to do next?" Robin asked.

A year later Robin and Regina took a grand adventure, a venture into matrimony. They said their vows on Joatinga Beach in Brazil. It was just the two of them. And it was only a few years later that it was no longer just the two of them as their first child Roland was born. They also adopted two dogs from a local animal shelter.

"I'm so glad you were at my wedding." Regina said as they watched Roland being chased by their dogs.

"Me too." Robin said, his arms around his wife's waist.

"You always knew didn't you?" Regina asked.

"Of our getting back together? Of course." Robin said.

"You arrogant ass." Regina said, turning in his arms.

"I might be an ass, but I'm your ass." Robin said, "and speaking of asses..." He proceeded to pinch her ass.