Part 11
Maria was exhausted after ten hours on the road; other than the times they had stopped to fuel up, Michael hadn't bothered to offer to stop for restroom breaks or to eat. If he had a single shred of decency he would've at least made the offer to stop halfway through the trip, but, no, he had insisted on driving the entire distance in one day. The few times he had stopped to fuel up she had been forced to watch and listen to him as he graphically assessed every single female in sight.
She leaned with him as he made a right turn, exhausted beyond belief and wanting nothing more than to get off of the motorcycle before she just fell off. She felt him let up on the throttle and she lifted her head up from its resting place against his back to look around, hoping they were stopping somewhere… anywhere. They left the paved road and turned onto a narrow, gravel road, and she wondered where they were going.
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when she saw the hacienda-style house situated at the end of the gravel road. She didn't have much time to admire the columns that rose up into three arched openings over the flagstone entryway before they were pulling into the garage and the door was closing behind them.
The silence was deafening when he cut the engine and she reached up to rub her ears. He dismounted and stood next to the motorcycle, glaring at her as he motioned impatiently. "You just gonna sit here all day?"
Maria returned his glare and considered kicking him just for spite. She carefully stood and dismounted, snatching her arm out of his grasp when she stumbled and he caught her. Her entire body was humming after so many hours on the motorcycle and she wanted it to stop.
"Fall on the floor next time," he snapped as he jerked his hand back. He didn't know why he had bothered to stop her fall anyway. He grabbed the saddlebags and walked up the two steps that led into the laundry room, dropping them on the washer before continuing on to the kitchen.
He was hyper-aware of the woman moving around the room behind him and her presence in his home, in the very space that he had never shared with another living soul, was making him anxious and irritable. He dropped his keys and wallet on the counter before grabbing a bottle out of the refrigerator and stalking through the house to make sure no one had been there.
Not knowing what else to do, Maria followed him but stopped when she reached the living room. His home was amazing; beautifully furnished, meticulously maintained, and obviously expensive. Aesthetically, it was everything the home she had shared with her Michael hadn't been, but it lacked the most important things that their humble home had been filled with: love and warmth.
She remained silent when her reluctant host walked through the room and went back into the kitchen. She moved around, looking at the things he surrounded himself with, and frowning when she turned a corner and found herself facing a wall decorated with several dozen different types of weapons. A glass front was mounted over the weapons displayed there, showcasing everything from knives to swords and handguns to machine guns. There were framed photographs and medals next to some of the weapons and she recognized Michael's unsmiling face in all of them. Indigo was in most of them and she leaned in closer to look at the military rank bars situated next to a photograph of Indigo propped up in a hospital bed, his left arm heavily bandaged where his hand had been. She glanced back over the other photographs, searching for one where Indigo was wearing a military rank, but she couldn't find any.
"Lookin' for somethin' in particular?"
She jumped, startled when Michael spoke up behind her, his tone annoyed. "I was just trying to see what this rank means; I don't see it on Indigo's - "
"It's not his," he muttered.
"It's your rank?"
"It is now." He took a drink from the bottle in his right hand before motioning to the military bars. "I took them off of the man responsible for takin' Indigo's hand… after I killed him."
She shuddered at his unemotional statement.
"Why don't we discuss sleepin' arrangements," he suggested, turning to walk down a hall and clearly expecting her to follow him. He stepped into a large bedroom and turned the overhead light on even though there was enough sunlight coming through the windows to illuminate the room.
"This is your bedroom," Maria guessed, standing in the doorway. The room, like the rest of the house, was beautifully furnished and very masculine. His presence was strongest in this room and she could feel his predatory gaze following her every movement as she moved to glance into the bathroom. It was the size of a small country, she thought, shaking her head. "I'm guessing since you're showing off your bedroom, you must not have a guest room?"
"Why would I have a guest room when I don't have guests?" he asked, rolling his eyes heavenward. As if he would bother with people in his own house!
"Well, it's unexpectedly nice of you to offer your bedroom, but I couldn't ask you to sleep on the couch." She whirled around to look at him when he actually laughed, the sound rusty from lack of use.
"I have no intention of sleepin' on the couch. If I hadn't brought you back here you'd still be on the streets of Santa Fe, tryin' to find someone to pull your little scam on." He continued, ignoring her when she opened her mouth to protest. "The validity of your story has yet to be proven and until I have somethin' more concrete than your insane ramblings you're stayin' here, and at the very least you could be grateful and show some fuckin' appreciation!" he roared.
Maria bit back the overwhelming urge to laugh at him. He was unsettled by her presence and he apparently thought that he had come up with the perfect solution; she would be off of the streets and he would be… satisfied. "Okay, so, let me get this straight," she said once she could speak without laughing in his face. "In exchange for the relative safety that being here with you will provide, which I would assume includes shelter, food, and clothing…" She went on at his impatient nod. "Right, so in exchange for these things, I should just… what, exactly? Strip naked, climb up on your bed, and spread my legs for you? And presumably, I would do this anytime the mood strikes you, would that be a correct assessment of your plan?"
Michael scowled at her clinical description. "Yeah, that's basically correct, but it's not like you wouldn't be getting anything out of it. I've been with a lot of women and I've never once left a single one of 'em unsatisfied; you wouldn't be any different."
Bastard! She would show him who Maria DeLuca was. "A lot of women, huh? You're just making this offer sound too good to pass up." His dark eyes were scanning over her body, paying no attention to the fact that she was being sarcastic. A quick glance at his crotch told her exactly where his few functioning brain cells were currently residing and she shook her head in disgust. She walked up to him and her eyes turned to shards of jade ice as she took in his smug expression. "I hope you have a very good relationship with your right hand because you can't honestly think that I have any intention of having sex with you."
That got his attention and his eyes stopped their assessment of her body to focus on her angry gaze. He started to argue when she brushed past him, close enough to touch him, and he was reaching out to stop her when she suddenly turned and kneed him in the crotch.
Maria stared at him when he dropped to his knees, his left hand braced on his thigh as he fought to control his breathing. She hadn't planned to do that; she had just reacted when his hand had wrapped around her wrist.
"That was uncalled for," he wheezed angrily. "I've never fucked a woman against her will and I'm not about to change that."
"Not now, you're not," Maria remarked, pleased to have put him in such torment.
"I'll bet you're a real wildcat between the sheets, but I'll be goddamned if I have any interest in findin' out now." He struggled to his feet and dragged her back out into the living room, shoving her down on the couch before turning to go back to his bedroom. "Welcome to the guestroom."
She took a quick look around the depressing room. "You expect me to sleep out here?"
"You can hang from the fuckin' rafters for all I care," he snarled as he slowly crossed the room. His dick would probably be black and blue after that vicious kick and with the way his luck had been going lately, it'd probably go back on strike just to be spiteful.
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Maria paced around the living room, trying to decide whether she wanted to incur his wrath any further by demanding a pillow and a blanket. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that they had only stopped to eat once - and only because he had been hungry. She glanced back towards the hallway that led to his bedroom before going in the opposite direction and entering the kitchen.
It wasn't quite dark outside but she searched for the light switch and flooded the room with light anyway. The kitchen was more than adequate but she had to wonder why he had every possible modern convenience when it was obvious by the contents of his cabinets and refrigerator that he ate like a bachelor. The refrigerator had a minimum of food; most of the space was taken up by bottled beer, the doors held things like mustard, ketchup, and a jar of jalapenos, and the drawers at the bottom were packed with sandwich things. The freezer was predictable, filled to bursting with frozen pizzas, TV dinners, and other frozen… delights. The cabinets were nearly empty with the exception of several boxes of cereal and a box of taco shells that looked like they were at least a year or two past their expiration date.
"Figures," she mumbled. There was nothing there that qualified as a vegetable; not fresh, frozen, or canned. "Okay, looks like tonight is sandwich night… if he has any bread." She finally found a loaf of bread in a cabinet beneath the island in the center of the kitchen and she placed it on the counter along with sandwich meat and the jar of mustard. She shook her head at the pathetic meal, but it was better than nothing so she ate it and cleaned up after herself before going back into the living room.
Restlessness quickly began to overtake her as she paced the length of the room repeatedly and she paused to stare at the hallway. Curiosity got the best of her and she wandered down the long hall to look around. She was just about to enter what appeared to be an office when the door at the end was jerked open and Michael stalked towards her.
"No one said you could stick your nose in my stuff," he snapped. "Go back in the other room and get some sleep."
"It's barely eight o'clock; I can't go to sleep this early," she argued. She was doing her best to ignore the fact that he was only wearing a pair of boxers, but that wasn't easy to do when he stopped mere inches away and loomed over her. She was sure he was trying to be intimidating, but if he thought crowding her while he was almost naked was going to scare her then he was in for a shock. "Besides, you didn't even give me a blanket or a pillow… how do you expect me to sleep?"
"Why are you snoopin' through my house?" Michael had been trying to get comfortable when he heard the floorboards in the hall creaking and the sound had grated on nerves already stretched too far.
"What've you got to hide?"
Her tone was challenging, further pissing him off. "It's my goddamned house!" he exploded. "Just because I don't want you snoopin' around my house doesn't mean I have somethin' to hide; it just means nothin' here is any of your fuckin' business." His eyes darkened with irritation when she didn't back away from him. "Stop movin' around so damn much; you're makin' noise and I want it quiet!"
"Walking through the house is - "
Michael moved past her, grabbing her arm only after his already-tender crotch was out of kicking range and dragged her back into the living room. "This is your space…" He let go of her to make an erratic motion with his hands that encompassed the couch and its surrounding area. "Right here. You don't need to go anywhere else. If you're incapable of remaining here I'll be happy to solve the problem and cuff you again." He nodded in satisfaction when Maria sat down on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Do you think I could at least have a blanket?"
Michael's eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher whether or not there was some ulterior motive behind her request. After several minutes he went to retrieve a blanket and threw it on the couch beside her before going back to his bedroom and slamming the door. He didn't normally go to bed this early but he was exhausted after dealing with the lunatic sleeping on his couch and he just wanted the oblivion sleep would hopefully provide.
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Maria opened her eyes and looked around in confusion as she tried to get her bearings. It was early, as evidenced by the sunlight just beginning to creep across the wood floor. The events of the day before came flooding back and she forced herself to stay still as she listened for anything that would indicate Michael was awake. The house was silent and she settled back down, pulling the blanket up to her chin and snuggling under it. She was on the verge of falling asleep again when she heard a door slide open and a moment later something hit the back of the couch and her eyes flew open.
"Wake your ass up and make yourself useful," Michael growled as he walked around the couch. "I want breakfast ready by the time I get outta the shower."
"Go to hell."
His right eyebrow quirked at the sleepy snarl and he reached down to grab a corner of the blanket covering her, jerking it away from her body and carrying it with him to his room. "I'll be outta the shower in fifteen minutes and I'm not jokin' about breakfast."
Fifteen minutes later he stepped out of his bedroom and rubbed his hand through his damp hair, frowning when he didn't detect the slightest hint of anything that smelled like breakfast. He stopped at the entrance to the living room and propped his hands on his hips when he saw the woman who was once more sleeping.
"Fuckin' hell," he muttered. He went into the kitchen and opened the cabinets one by one, looking for something large enough to meet his needs. As soon as he located the cooking pot he had been searching for he placed it in the sink and filled it with cold water from the faucet.
He carried it into the living room and stood behind the couch, holding it over her head as he kicked the leg of the heavy piece of furniture. "I'm givin' you one last chance to get your ass up, Wildcat." He smirked when she grumbled under her breath, cursing him and quite possibly threatening him with bodily injury. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Maria choked and sputtered when she was suddenly doused with cold water… a lot of cold water. She shot into an upright position and used her wet shirtsleeve to get the worst of the water out of her eyes. "What is wrong with you?" she shouted, standing up and looking down at the water dripping off of her clothes.
"I got your ass off the streets and I would appreciate a little fuckin' gratitude!"
"And I would appreciate a hot shower, dry clothes, my Michael, and my own damned reality!" She was screaming at him, but the anger helped push down the pain and sadness that kept trying to surface. "Instead I'm soaking wet and I'm stuck here with you in a reality where you're a cold, mean-tempered asshole! We don't always get what we want!"
"A cold, mean-tempered asshole who could've just left your ass on the streets!" he shouted.
Maria drew herself up to her full height and stared him down. "I want to take a shower," she said, her teeth clenched to keep from screaming again.
"And I want breakfast. I'd prefer sex, but since you won't give it up, I want breakfast." He didn't know why he was participating in such a stupid argument but he wasn't willing to let her win.
"You want breakfast." She nodded slowly and stalked past him, knowing that he would follow simply because he wasn't comfortable with her being anywhere in his home when he couldn't see what she was doing. She jerked the freezer door open and grabbed a frozen pizza, shutting the door with her shoulder as she slammed the box down on the counter in front of him. "Bon appétit, asshole."
Michael stared at the box as she breezed past him, cursing his brain for locking up and not forming a coherent response to her baiting. His fist came down in the center of the box, crushing it and leaving a crater in the middle of the frozen pizza. He followed her back into the living room, stopping to watch her as she carefully placed the leather wallet in her bag before sorting through the few items of clothing she owned.
He could see that he wasn't going to get anything resembling peace until she'd had a shower. "There's only one bathroom; don't move any of my stuff around." He paused at the entrance to the hallway when she didn't move to follow him. "I don't have all day, so if you want a shower you'd better come on."
She hurried after him, but only because she desperately wanted a hot shower. Like every other room in the house, the bathroom was immaculate and she was certain that was most likely due to the time he had served in the military. The room was huge but it somehow shrank the moment she was standing in it with him.
"Cabinets on that side have towels an' washcloths an' stuff," he said, pointing at the cabinets that lined one entire wall below a row of windows that were high enough that there was no reason to worry about anyone looking in. "Cabinets on the wall on the side with the sinks have soap an' shampoo; I ain't got any chick deodorant so you're on your own there. I assume you know how to operate the shower… and the whirlpool jets if you decide to take a bath." He stretched before slouching against the doorframe and grinning at her. "And, uh, if you happen to feel the need to touch yourself while you're thinkin' about me in the shower, go with it."
And he just had to go and ruin the most civil moment since they had met. "Dream on; I have no intention of doing any such thing."
"Liar." He chuckled smugly and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Maria shook her head; his ego was unbelievable! The man had apparently been catered to by every female he had ever encountered and he needed to be brought back down to earth.