I squeezed his hand. He was talking fast, clearly agitated. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him everything would be okay. That I would help, that I would do anything to help him. But it was such a lot to ask from a near stranger. I mean, I was ready to have the talk about being exclusive and start calling him my boyfriend, and even that had seemed like it might be sudden. I reached for him and hugged him, wanting to console him because I knew he was in a difficult situation. And I had a decision to make—either say goodbye to Raul so he could marry someone else or take vows with a man I had known less than a month. It seemed like a recipe for disaster either way.
He held me for a moment and released me. “You know, it’s a huge ranch, beautiful. There’s a cook and a housekeeper; we have a gardener. You even have a horse. It’s not a bad place to live,” he said fondly, “and I have the company in Italy. I go to the family villa there a couple of times a year. So you’d have built in Italian vacations. Lots of steak dinners at home, wide open space, room for your dogs to run. And I’m fantastic in bed. So there are perks to the marriage,” he said.
I could tell by his tone that he was only half teasing. He was trying to sell me on it, trying to convince me to say yes. Yes, was all I wanted to say. Surprisingly, every bit of what he offered sounded amazing to me. Insane, but amazing.
“Thank you for hearing me out. I know it’s crazy, and I know I’ve probably disappointed you. That you thought this could be a real relationship that unfolds naturally, and I’ve told you otherwise. There’s a timeline, there’s my inheritance at stake. I wish it were less complicated and dramatic. I wish I could be that man for you.”
“You didn’t let me down. I’m just surprised, and I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. I wish I could tell you yes, instantly, that I want to marry you for three years. But that’s a major leap. It’s—”
He held me and waited while I gathered my thoughts. He didn’t interrupt or try to make his case again.
“I think that’s unfair. I know you’ll do anything to keep the ranch, but these terms ask a lot of you, and put a lot of pressure on whoever you marry to stick with it for three years. If it was a real marriage, of course there’s no expiration date, but in an arrangement like this, three years is a long time to stay together. What if you don’t get along? What if you drive each other crazy?”
I shrugged like I was trying to push something off my shoulders and shook my head. “It’s a really crappy situation,” I said.
“Yeah. Part of me wants to defend it, just because he’s my grandfather. He raised me. He taught me everything I know. I was five when my parents died, Allie. The only way I know how to be loved is the way I was raised.” “You’ve been through a lot, Raul. You lost your parents so young, and then having to deal with your grandpa’s death and how he put those terms in his will.”
“I know that I don’t owe him my future because he took me in when I was little. It was helpful to think of it that way, but it didn’t make the situation suck any less. I guess I feel better about it because I’m making the choice myself. That I really thought hard about it, did the pros and cons, and Santeria is that important to me. The land, the people who work for me, the company in Italy, too. I want to be part of that going forward.”
“Thank you,” I said, “for sharing that with me. It helps to know how you’re approaching this. That you’ve weighed your options, and it’s not impulsive. Because I gotta say, I didn’t think when we went to dinner that you were going to propose afterward.”
I gave an awkward laugh. He leaned his head on the steering wheel. I laid my hand on his shoulder, wanting to make him feel better and hating myself a little for noticing how muscular and amazing his shoulder was at a time like this. I scooted away from him, put my hands in my lap. I put space between us so I could think, so I could try to explain myself when I didn’t even understand what I felt.
“I really like you,” I said lamely. “I wish I had something better to say. I wish I could fix this for you in a way that wouldn’t potentially screw up everything. I know that the best thing, the smart thing to do, is to wish you luck and tell you goodbye. That obviously we’re not getting engaged after two dates. Who does that?” I sighed.
Raul sat back, stared out the windshield, “I understand.” He said it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.
“Well I don’t,” I said. “Because I know that’s the smart decision. But I don’t understand why I can’t make myself say it, make myself get out of this truck and tell you goodbye.”
He turned and met my eyes in the green dashboard light. He flexed his hands tighter on the steering wheel. I touched his arm and my touch seemed to unlock him. Raul closed the space between us, his arms and hands capturing me in the confines of the truck, my red dress helped my hips slip along the leather seat as he drew me into his arms. Our mouths clashed together, lips and teeth and tongues, in a desperate, questing kiss. My hands were raking his dark hair, and I was panting into his mouth as he drove his tongue into mine.
Passion ignited all through me, overheated and frantic. He had my dress untied, his work roughened fingers parting the folds of silky fabric to scrape along my rib cage. His thumb rubbed a devastating circle in the crease under my breast, my nipples tightening fast and hard at his touch. He swallowed my gasp, moving his calloused hand to cup my bare breast, my nipple pebbled and aching in his palm. I pressed into him, ablaze.
I gripped his hair, never letting his lift his mouth from mine. Our passion was consuming me, burning me alive. His arm hooked around my waist as he swung me into his lap. I settled my knees on either side of him, crouched to unbutton his shirt without breaking the kiss. I heard a moaning sound and I couldn’t be sure which one of us made it. Everything he touched, every way he kissed me felt so incredible. I dragged my lips from his to get a breath, arched into his hand as he fondled my breast. Just as I rocked against him, a shrill bleating sound split the evening stillness. I gave a startled shriek, gathered my dress around me. I met his eyes. Raul broke out laughing.
“Sorry,” he said, “we got a little carried away.”
“What?” I said, climbing off him, embarrassed, “what the hell was that sound?”
“You hit the horn with your ass,” he said, trying to stop laughing.
“I did not. Shut up!” I said, realizing he was right.
“Yeah, I got you so hot you honked,” he said.
I cracked up, bending over in peals of laughter.
“You know—” I said, “a gentleman would have taken the blame.”
“How? How would I possibly have reached the horn? My hands were—you know where my hands were!”
We both sat back, laughing, trying to catch our breath.
“I can’t believe how nice you’re being about this,” he said. “You didn’t get pissed at me or tell me I was being unfair.”
“You’re not. You’re just doing what you think you need to do to secure your legacy. I don’t see any point getting mad over it. It’s not your fault. Except the horn. That was totally your fault.”
“Because I arched your back in ecstasy?” he said dubiously.
“Yes. Yes you did. If you hadn’t been fondling me like that, I wouldn’t have gone so crazy. For real, you could teach a class on second base.”
“So if I can’t get anyone to marry me, I’ll have that to fall back on. I could lose the ranch, but make my living teaching others how to feel up women?”
“You’re not going to lose your ranch, Raul,” I said, becoming serious again.
He looked at me for a moment. “So what does that mean?” he asked.
I shook my head. , “ I really need to think about it, just take some time. Is that okay?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll take you home.”
The rest of the ride to my building was quiet. My breathing was still ragged from the hottest make out session of my life, and I knew when I scooted back to my own seat and buckled in that I was wet for him. My pulse buzzed, and I kn
ew I’d never get to sleep that night. Everything was overwhelming, confusing—and my body was so ready and eager, slippery and primed. I bit my lip. Sleeping with him was the only possible way to make things worse. So I wouldn’t.
He walked me to my door, took my keys and unlocked it for me.
“I’d ask you inside, but it’s not a good idea,” I said ruefully.
His hand on my hip pulled me to him, my bare legs against his linen pants, the heat of his body pressed to mine. The hard ridge pushing against my belly told me everything about how much he wanted me, too. He slanted his lips over mine and kissed me, a languorous, passionate kiss. He parted my lips, stroked his tongue in a way that made me shiver, made me suck it into my mouth hungrily. His hands roamed my back, my arms, my hair. His touch was all over me, making me burn. He stroked my neck, my jaw, his kisses drugging me. When my knees buckled, he held me up with a strong arm around my waist.
“I had to leave you something to think about,” he said slyly, kissing my lips once more, softly, and telling me good night.
Once inside, I dropped my dress and went directly to the shower. I knew I couldn’t keep my hands off myself with my body so keyed up. I wouldn’t be able to think straight about anything with my blood pounding arousal through my body after his kisses. I let the steam of the shower cascade over my bare back as I worked my fingers between my legs. It took no time to spiral into a sharp orgasm that left me leaning spent against the shower wall. If just the thought of Raul could do so much to me, I wondered what it would be like to have his fingers, his mouth, his cock taking me again and again. With a shuddering breath I drew myself up, washed and dried off.
It was supposed to clear my head, not leave me wanting more, wanting all of him. I gritted my teeth as I lay on the bed trying to sort things out. My hand drifted to the curve of my stomach and down, my eyes closing as I imagined that my fingers were his. My breath caught at the memory of his rough fingers, his big hands on me. I gasped, took my hand away from where I wanted it most. This wasn’t the time to give in to that desire. Since I’d met him, he had been all I thought of, had been the reason I woke up sweaty and tangled in my sheets with my hand between my legs. Even now I writhed in frustration, pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and tried to calm my raging body. I wasn’t going to turn into a compulsive masturbator over Raul Santiago.
I tried to weigh the pros and cons, to think about what three years on the ranch with him would be like, driving to my job on the longer commute, less time with my sisters, bound to a man I didn’t really know that well. He could have a terrible temper or a drinking problem. I’d seen no evidence of that, but anyone could behave on two dates. He might pick his teeth at the table or be obsessed with the Andy Griffith Show like my dad. He could be a racist or one of those gluten-free people who don’t have allergies but refuse to eat bread. There were a thousand things that could be annoying, that could go wrong.
Or it could be the fucking time of my life. Which was exactly how it felt. Like a great adventure, a leap I’d always regret missing if I didn’t take it. Because three years with Raul Santiago sounded like one long orgasm from where I lay.
I reached for my phone and called him. His voice sounded haggard when he answered.
“Hey,” I said. “It’s me. Allie.”
“I know who it is. I know that voice,” he said.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said clearing his throat. “How are you?”
“I’m insane. Because I’m calling to tell you yes. I’ll marry you.”
“Yes!” he said and I laughed.
“Are you doing a fist pump right now? Like you’re at a high school football game?” I accused.
“Maybe,” he said, “ahem, I mean, thank you for letting me know about your decision. I think it will be favorable for us both.”
“Favorable?”
“Well you made fun of me for shouting yes---I thought I’d try to sound more mature.”
“Don’t. I like making you shout yes. I plan to do it a lot. Three years is a lot of yes,” I said archly.
“Damn,” he said, “you make it hard for me to breathe.”
“Me, too,” I said, “and I’m not sure how much of my decision is just sheer chemistry. The way my mouth goes dry thinking about your hands on me. The way—you know, how about I don’t ruin our engagement with phone sex?” I said with a shaky laugh.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t complain. But if you need to get some sleep, it might be a good idea to rest up. Because I’m going to wear you out when I get you on my ranch.”
A thrill chased through me. This was going to fun. It was possible that it would also be a huge mistake, but I knew we were in for a hell of a ride.
7
Raul
Mantilla would’ve stayed out for a longer morning ride, but I had work to do. Pablo was in his office in the stables as I led my horse into her stall. I wiped her down and brushed her methodically and went to tell him I hadn’t fed her yet because of the schedule.
“You’re out early,” he said, stepping out of his office.
“It was a beautiful morning for a ride. The fence out on the southwest forty looks good. The repairs are holding,” I said.
“How’s the search for your mail order bride going? There are places you can go. I found them online.”
“Stop,” I said. “I know I was having a hard time finding a woman around here who was more interested in long term than just a hookup, but I think I found a better option.”
“A better option?”
“The vet tech,” I said.
“The one with the dogs? How’s that going?” he said.
“We’re getting a marriage license today,” I said and enjoyed the look of surprise on his face.
“Well, congratulations I guess,” he said.
“Thanks. You’ll get to meet her later. I’m taking a late lunch to go get the license, and I’ll bring her out here when we’re through. Show her the ranch,” I said.
“I bet the bar scene wouldn’t have been totally about hook ups if the women had seen pictures of this place.”
“I appreciate the idea, but women aren’t usually impressed by pastureland,” I said, “so this one’s something special.”
“Don’t tell me you’re romanticizing this? You have to get married to save Santeria. It’s not a love story,” he said.
“Do you think it’s helpful to remind me that I’m being forced into marriage?” I asked. “I’m aware of what’s at stake, you can be sure of that. I’m satisfied with the bargain I’ve made. So you can be happy for me.”
“I will be when I meet her and she’s good enough for you. Until then, I’m reserving judgment. I don’t like the old buzzard running your life now that he’s in the ground, and I don’t reckon any woman you met last week is going to make you a good wife on the ranch.”
“Just the ranch you’re concerned for?” I said.
“Not only the ranch and you know it. Fishing for compliments, Raul?” he said gruffly. “I don’t want you saddled with some woman just to satisfy Antonio. The old man is still pulling your strings, and it’s enough. If I didn’t—half of me wants to tell you to walk away from it all. Go be your own man, and to hell with Santeria.”
“And the other half of you?”
“Knows you love Santeria like I do. Like he did. So there’s no talking sense to you. Just don’t expect me to throw rose petals at you after the fake wedding.”
“Oh, it’s got to be a real wedding. Terms of the will,” I said.
“I’ll let you get to work then. You probably got a lot to get done before you pretty up in your tuxedo to go to town.”
“Shut up,” I growled, half grinning, and went to talk to the foreman in the office.
I met Allie at the courthouse. She was in her scrubs still from work, her hair pulled back. Her bright smile welcomed me. I went to her, and she flung her arms around me.
“Let’s make this fun. The whole th
ing,” she said.
I kissed her lightly on the lips, took her hand. We filled out our paperwork, and in ten minutes we were licensed to marry in Lubbock County. I hated to let her drive separately out the ranch, but she insisted on following my lead. I was excited to show her Santeria.
All the way there, I put Allie on speaker phone so we could talk. I pointed out places on the way, and she said it was like going on safari with a local guide. I had stories about places I’d gone hunting as a kid or where we had a problem with drainage a few years back. I was talking like a tour guide probably, but it was because I wanted her to know this place and love it like I did.
We drove up to the house and parked in front. I knew she’d be impressed by the huge curving pebbled horseshoe driveway, the bronze fountain in the center sending cascades of water into the low pool. She didn’t go to the fountain like I thought she would. She didn’t run up to the vast wooden double doors, the heavy timbers of the entryway with its local stone foundation. The ranch house was a post and beam mansion, the kind of lodge my grandfather said the Vanderbilts would have built, if they’d had any taste. I was proud of the house, of the local materials that had been used to build it and the way it fit the natural landscape.
“My grandpa had the old ranch house demolished and built this on the site back in the seventies, and we remodeled and upgraded the interior a couple of years ago. Originally, he wanted my parents and me to live here as well, like a big family home. I’d like to show it to you.”
I was surprised how much it affected me to bring her to my home. I’d been to her apartment several times, and it never seemed to take on any significance. This was my refuge, the home where I grew up, the place where I learned who I was and who I wanted to be.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “After the house, can we go see the horses?”
That made me grin. Faced with proof of all that wealth, she was most interested in the animals, not the money or status. I nodded, took her hand and led her up the stone steps. She stopped at the door and slipped off her shoes.
Faking It Page 6