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The heat felt amazing on her tired, achy muscles. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander as the bath worked its magic, the warmth of the water radiating down to her bones.
Two days. That’s all that was left of the retreat. Forty-eight more hours of putting on a mask and pretending like she and Santiago were a couple in trouble, of acting like she didn’t know the Woodses were con artists hurting innocent people.
She wouldn’t miss it, that much was certain. It was hard being so passive, seeing a crime happening in real time but doing nothing to stop it. Sure, in the larger scheme of things she and Santiago were doing the right thing. But all the micro-insults, the little digs at people like Jenny, were wearing on her soul. Ainsley had the benefit of knowing she was a target, so it was easy for her to dismiss the suggestions that she was wrong, or that Santiago would be better off without her. But the other people in her group didn’t have that advantage. They were internalizing everything the counselors said, blaming themselves for the problems in their marriages, even though their spouses were the ones who had created this particular situation. Only the knowledge that she and Santiago were going to expose the dishonest actions of everyone—the Woodses and the bribing significant others both—kept her going.
But...there were some things she would miss about this week. Spending time with Santiago again had been wonderful, even though the circumstances had been less than ideal. They’d made the best of it, though, falling into a routine of sorts. It wasn’t the same rhythm their lives had taken on when they’d been together, but it still felt familiar. She’d grown to enjoy their evening talks, of hearing more about his work and how his career had taken him from New York City back to Phoenix. While she wouldn’t trade her work at Colton Oil, it was interesting to learn about the variety of clients Santiago had dealt with over the years.
He still felt like her other half. The time they’d spent apart hadn’t changed that. The problem was, she didn’t know what to do with this information. Based on things he’d said recently, it seemed his stance on marriage hadn’t changed. He truly seemed to believe he was better off alone. While she understood his fears about repeating the mistakes of his parents, she also knew he wasn’t the type of man to stay in a bad relationship simply to torture the other person. That took a level of spite that he didn’t possess. And while Ainsley wanted so badly for him to understand that, she couldn’t make him see the truth.
In the end, it was probably for the best that they were going to go their separate ways after this was over. Being with Santiago again had been a nice reminder of what was possible, with the right person. But as much as it hurt her heart, she had to admit he wasn’t for her. Sure, they got along well and were compatible in all the right ways. It just wasn’t enough. She wasn’t going to beg him to be with her—her pride wouldn’t allow it. And since he refused to believe that they wouldn’t turn into his parents, well... There was nothing more to be done.
Clearing her mind, Ainsley sank deeper into the water, feeling it brush against the bottom of her chin. Relaxation stole over her as the minutes ticked by. She knew she should finish up and get dressed. After all, she and Santiago didn’t have much time left together, and she did want to work on her brother’s case tonight while they were still at the retreat and the interruptions of the real world were held at bay.
He was probably still making her coffee, though. She’d get out soon. Just a few more minutes...
* * *
He was starting to get worried.
It had been more than an hour since Ainsley had gone to her suite for a bath. He’d heard the water rushing through the pipes, but that sound had stopped long ago. The cabin was utterly quiet; if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought he was the only one here.
Was she okay? He didn’t want to disturb her, but his imagination kept creating scenarios that made him worry. Perhaps this morning’s blow to the head had left her with a concussion and she’d passed out in the tub? What if she’d slipped getting into or out of the bath and was lying on the floor, out cold?
For the sake of his mental health, Santiago decided to check on her. She might not appreciate the interruption, but he needed to know she was all right.
Giving up all pretense of work—not that he’d been able to focus in the face of his distracting thoughts—he set aside his laptop and got to his feet.
It didn’t take long to walk down the hall and arrive at the door to Ainsley’s suite. He
rapped softly on the wood. “Doing okay in there?”
She didn’t respond, so he knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing.
Worried now, he tried the handle. It turned easily, and he stepped inside the bedroom.
He paused at the threshold. It seemed wrong to walk in uninvited, like he was crossing some invisible line. But he had to make sure she was okay. As soon as he confirmed Ainsley was fine, he’d leave.
Wanting to respect her privacy, he called out her name before venturing in farther. “Ainsley?”
Still no response. And she should have heard him easily, since the door to the bathroom was open.
Anxiety made Santiago’s heart pound. Casting aside all considerations of privacy, he rushed across the room and stepped inside the bathroom, only to draw up short at the sight that greeted him.
Ainsley was reclined in the large tub, the back of her head resting against the wall. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as she breathed softly. A smattering of bubbles floating on the surface of the water did nothing to hide her curves from his view. Santiago’s mouth went dry as he ran his eyes down the length of her body. His hands itched to touch her, to trace her peaks and valleys, to explore her sensitive spots. Would she still feel the same, or would she be a stranger to him now?
He forced his gaze back to her face, guilt flashing through him. She didn’t deserve to be ogled, especially when she didn’t know it was happening. He felt like the worst kind of voyeur.
Concern warred with shame as he watched her. Was she asleep, or had she passed out due to her head injury? He vaguely remembered watching some medical drama, where the doctor had told a husband not to let his wife fall asleep after a concussion or she might slip into a coma. Oh, was that what Ainsley had done? Had the heat of the water lulled her into a dangerous sleep?
Only one way to know for sure. With his heart pounding against his breastbone, Santiago leaned down and placed his hands on her bare shoulders. He gave her a little shake, hoping she’d forgive this intrusion.
“Ainsley?” he said loudly. “Wake up, please.”
He held his breath as he waited for her to respond. When she didn’t move right away, he tried again, a sense of despair building in his chest. If something was wrong with her, he’d never forgive himself. He should have forced her to go to the hospital this morning, should have refused to move until she’d agreed to see a doctor...
She stirred in the water, her face scrunching up into a slight frown. Santiago swallowed a yelp of triumph, not wanting to scare her. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared up at him.
“Am I late?”
