Bedding the Wrong Brother(63)

“But that's because we're here and because it's all new. What happens when you realize I don't fit in? What happens when you lose interest? ’Cause you will lose interest, Rhys. You always do.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You've never dated someone more than six weeks.”

“Who told you that crap?”

She pressed her lips together.

Abruptly, Rhys released her and stood. Warily, silently, she retrieved the keys and released the handcuffs. He dressed. When he fastened his belt, he turned to her.

“I noticed you didn't respond to my declaration of love. How am I supposed to interpret that?”

She sat up. Reached for her robe and put it on. “I've told you before that I love you.”

“Yeah, but at the same time you said you love Max. So what's it going to be Melina? I love you. I know my life isn't what you would choose, but I have other people to consider. I want to know: Do you love me and do you want to be a part of my life, whatever that entails?”

“Whatever that entails.” She sniffed derisively. “You don't ask for much, do you?”

His shoulders dropped, and he stared at the floor. “And that's not a very encouraging answer, is it?”

“You can't just—”

They both jumped when someone pounded on the door. “Rhys! Melina. Open up. We've got trouble.”

It was Max. Melina jumped to her feet as Rhys answered the door.

Max strode in. After taking in Melina's makeup and eyebrow-raising outfit, as well as their grim expressions, he shook his head. “Great. I can see things are going swell in here, too.”

“What is it?”

Max eyes radiated regret. “Someone got into the theater after practice. I came back because I'd forgotten to lock up and…”

“And what?” Rhys prompted.

“And the Metamorphosis rack's been destroyed.”

Melina gasped and immediately covered her mouth with both hands.

“What?” Rhys whispered. He dropped into the chair that still sat prominently displayed in the center of the room. He saw Melina move toward him, then stop. That hurt more than what Max had to say next.


“Someone took an ax to it. It's in pieces. There's no way you'll be able to fix it. Not before the show tomorrow.”



* * *



Two days later, Melina was in her lab, trying to focus on her current experiment. It was a little tough when her eyes kept tearing up and she had to excuse herself yet again so she could cry in private.

She'd called Max first thing this morning, and he'd told her that Seven Seas had decided to book the Salvador brothers as their permanent act. When Melina had asked about Rhys, Max had laughed bitterly. “Rhys's gonna be fine, Melina. He'll bounce back with something that will make Seven Seas come crawling back to us on their knees, I guarantee it. Recovering from what you did to him isn't going to be quite so easy.”

She'd stiffened at the censure in his tone. “Me? I didn't—”

“You couldn't get away from here fast enough, could you? The moment you weren't needed for the act, you left.”

“I talked to you and Rhys. I asked you if you needed me for anything, and you both said no. Rhys wouldn't even talk to me.”

“He was upset, and when he's upset he withdraws. That's just how he is. He told me what happened in your room before I interrupted.”

She sucked in her breath, appalled. Rhys had told Max about her corset and crop? The handcuffs? She nearly moaned in horror, but Max kept talking.

“He told me he asked you to stay with him. That he loved you. And that you threw it back in his face.”

“I-I didn't,” she protested. “I did no such thing. I just…I just didn't have a chance to answer. You came into the room and everything was a mess and—”

“And you got on a plane and flew home. That was your answer, Melina. And Rhys knows it.”

By the time she'd hung up with Max, Melina had almost been paralyzed with doubt. She'd only wanted to get home so she could think, but had getting on the plane been her answer? Wasn't she entitled to think things through before she changed her life so drastically? She was still questioning herself, what she'd done, and what she wanted when she returned to the lab. Instead of work flying by like it normally did, the hours passed painfully slow, and even then she'd gotten next to nothing done.