“What should I eat now, then?” he asked, his voice wickedly suggestive.
Nadine twisted her head around in time to see his lids lower to half-mast over his eyes. His hand slid between her thighs, and her breath hitched. Arching back against him, she rubbed her bottom against his crotch.
A low rumble erupted from his chest.
“I have something you can eat,” she said.
“I bet you do.”
Two fingers swirled in the moist cleft between her legs, and she released a long, heavy moan.
“This thing you have for me—is it moist?” Cortez asked, in a conversational tone.
Rocked by a shiver of pleasure, Nadine gripped the railing with both hands. “Yes,” she choked out.
He inserted the two fingers into her body and she gasped and groaned louder, widening her legs and reaching back to loop an arm around his neck. His thumb joined in the mischief, flicking against her clit as his fingers continued to slide back and forth. Turning her face into his neck, Nadine trembled and whimpered his name.
“Have I ever had this thing you’re offering?” The tenor of his voice dropped to a gruff, sexy drawl.
“Yes,” she moaned, fisting her hand behind his neck. “You’ve had it plenty of times, and you love it.”
He released her long enough to draw her into the room and strip his shirt from her body. Then they stretched out on the bed, and he used his mouth to take his fill between her legs. Her gasping cries countered his groans of pleasure, her trembling thighs held apart by his strong hands. His tongue tunneled into her, tasting the dew between her legs and delving into the wet crevices with enthusiastic groans.
She came apart with a quivering moan and had barely caught her breath when he rolled her onto her stomach. Her spine curled back to receive him, and he planted himself inside of her. The bunched-up silken sheets cushioned her breasts and teased her nipples with a delicate friction as over and over he pulled back and plunged deep, curling her toes and making her gasp out loud.
Each time he disappeared into her body, his hips smacked against the cushion of her ass. Cortez gripped her hips and squeezed, his fingers tightening in the tender flesh with each masterful thrust. And Nadine matched his long strokes, her uneven cries muffled in a pillow filled with his masculine fragrance, as he muttered under his breath in Spanish, voice guttural on each ragged draw of air.
Nadine’s body broke apart for the fourth time in less than twenty-four hours, a powerful climax tightening her muscles and leaving her spent and gasping with Cortez collapsed on top of her.
His heavy body was a comfort she never thought she’d experience again. Tears came to her eyes as she considered how they’d drifted so far apart in their grief, but now she felt closer to him than she’d felt in a long, long time.
Cortez stood at the French doors watching Nadine sip a morning brew of yerba mate tea. She wore a pair of khaki-colored linen pants and a matching shirt. She’d slept later than usual today, but that had been his fault. For the second night in a row, he’d kept her up most of the night. He smiled to himself as he watched her. He wanted to shout from the rooftops, but they had decided not to let anyone else in the house know they were sleeping together. Partly because they didn’t want to give Antonella false hope. She’d be happy if they reconciled, but this chapter in their relationship was too new.
They also savored the secrecy. They’d turned their little “affair” into a private game. She cast flirting glances at him over dinner. He pinched her bottom as he strolled through the kitchen on his way to the back yard.
Last night she’d slept in his room again. In the wee hours of the morning, she’d eased from the warmth of his body, and he’d slipped an arm across her waist, murmuring his discontent as he held her close for a little bit longer. Still, he didn’t hold onto her for long. That was part of the game. So with a soft kiss he’d released her so she could get dressed. Before she sneaked from the room, she cast one last lazy, sexy glance in his direction, her face filled with undisguised affection. She left quietly, tiptoeing out the room to make the trek down the hall.
In two days she and Antonella would be leaving, and they needed to have a serious talk about their future. Even before that, they needed to discuss the one thing that he knew could send her spiraling back into her old ways.
“Are you going to stand there all morning?” Nadine asked without looking at him.
He walked over to the table and sat down. “How did you know I was standing there?”
“I always know when you’re nearby,” she said.
“How?”
“I feel it,” she said simply. She smiled at him, her face glowing the way it used to. The happiness was slowly coming back, and he was almost afraid to broach the topic he wanted to. He didn’t want to see those onyx eyes dulled.
She frowned and touched his face with a soft hand. “What’s the matter? You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“We need to talk.”
Her hand fell away. “This must be serious.” Already the light dimmed in her eyes.
“Before you get upset, I want you to hear me out.” His stomach knotted. Talking about the death of their son was still difficult for him, and after she’d dodged the conversation last night, he knew it had to be done. “I want you to come see him.”
Her face shut down, and she immediately scraped back her chair and stood.
Cortez stood as well, and caught her arm.
“I said no!” Nadine hissed. She yanked away. “Why are you bringing this up again? Why are you trying to hurt me?”
“I’m not trying to hurt you.” He kept his voice level in the face of her stormy response.
She was shaking. “You asked me last night and I said no.”
“It’s been a long time since he passed, Nadine. You need to—”
“Don’t tell me what I need to do!” she shouted. Her eyes had gone wild and her breathing erratic. She jabbed a finger at him. “You were not the one who had to—to…” Her voice shook.
“No, I didn’t, but I was there.” He remained steady and calm in the face of her agitation. “It killed me, too.”
She pressed her hands over her face.
“Antonella has been to the grave with me,” Cortez said quietly.
“What?” She stared at him aghast. “You took her there? Why?”
“Because she needed to know about her brother.”
“She’s a baby.”
“She is not a baby. She’s twelve years old and growing into a beautiful young woman who is smart and funny, just like her mother. Her first trip back, one of her cousins mentioned júnior, and she asked me about him. I explained what happened and I took her to see him. Every time she comes to visit, we go to place flowers on the grave.”
“She never said a word to me.”
“She didn’t want to upset you.”
Wringing her hands together, she digested that information.
Her dark eyes met his. “I don’t think I can do it,” she said in a low voice.
“You can.” He took her hands and squeezed them between his. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll be there with you.”
Chapter 18
This was a terrible idea, and the closer they drove to the gravesite, the more apprehensive Nadine became. She absentmindedly tugged at the buttons on her shirt, not even aware she was doing it until Cortez took her hand in his to stop the fidgeting.
From the driver’s seat, his eyes were filled with worry, but he smiled reassuringly. She couldn’t manage to do the same and glanced out the side window, tightening her fingers around his hand.
She’d only been to the gravesite once, and that was the day of the funeral—the darkest day of her life when they placed their son in the ground. She hadn’t cried that day. Not even once, remaining stoic in the face of whispered condolences from friends and looks of pity from family. Moving away to the States had dulled the pain to a much more manageable ache. But s
he idly considered that opening the door and flinging her body from the car would be far less painful than the enormous gaping hole of a wound that now threatened to engulf her.
When they pulled up outside the cemetery, she stayed in the car, still unsure if she’d made the right decision. Cortez walk around the front of the vehicle, opened her door, and extended his hand.
“Come,” he said.
Pulling in a thick breath, Nadine exited the car and took his hand in a tight grip. Holding close to his side, she trudged along on lead feet. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, and ahead of them on the path, an older woman knelt in the grass and placed flowers in front of a tombstone. Strange to think that a landscape so lush, with the grass spread out before them like a thick green carpet, housed death and sadness and gloom on every acre.
They walked for what seemed like miles before they arrived at the Alesini family plot and stopped in front of their son’s gray marble headstone. Engraved in white letters was the date he died and written in Spanish, “In loving memory of our precious son Cortez Alesini.”
Her body went numb to thwart collapsing under the pain, and her eyes misted over with unshed tears. “Do you come here often?”
“Not as much anymore.”
Birds chirped nearby.
“It’s not fair. He was so tiny.” She drew in a tremulous breath. Could she have done something different?
As if he read her mind, Cortez said, “There was nothing you could do. Remember what the doctor said.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
Nadine lowered to her knees on the grass, kissed her palm, and pressed it to the top of the tombstone. Her head fell forward as grief overcame her. Cortez came down beside her and pulled her into his embrace, and for the second time in as many days, she cried in his arms.
This time she sobbed aloud, the wailing cry of a mother’s loss. Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. Clinging to her ex-husband, she pulled the comfort and support she’d missed from him years ago. He held her close without a word until the sobbing stopped and no more tears fell.
The deep sadness she’d felt had been alleviated somewhat. The pain of losing her son still hurt, but Cortez had been right. She’d needed to come here to see the grave and properly grieve his passing. To finally move on.
They left soon afterward. In the car, his thumb rubbed back and forth across the back of her hand. She hardly noticed the scenery that whizzed by.
“You’ve done a good job keeping up his grave.” Her voice was a little husky from crying, and she knew her eyes were red and swollen.
Cortez continued to rub his thumb across her hand.
“We need to keep it that way.”
His thumb stopped moving and he glanced away from the traffic to look at her.
Yes, we. Did he understand what she meant? She finally felt ready to start again and would be coming back to Buenos Aires.
“I never stopped loving you,” he said.
“Funny thing,” she said with a watery smile, “I never stopped loving you, either.”
She slid over and kissed his cheek.
Cortez glared at the door when a rap on the other side interrupted his phone conversation with the head of A&R. He’d given strict instructions not to be disturbed. The sooner he wrapped up this phone call, the sooner he could join Nadine and the girls at the pool.
“Hold on,” he said into the receiver. He rose from the leather couch on one side of the office. Marching over to the door, he unlocked it and snatched it open. “Sí.”
On the other side, Philippa informed him that Fabiana Dietsch waited for him in the foyer and insisted on seeing him. Surprised by the unexpected visit, he didn’t say anything at first. He hadn’t heard from her since she took off for Germany months ago. Because of their history, and an odd expression on Philippa’s face, Cortez was on alert.
“One moment.” He went back to the phone. “I have everything I need for now. We can finish this conversation later.” He hung up. “What’s going on, Philippa?”
The woman’s round face was creased in worry. “I think you should see for yourself, señor.”
With those ominous words, she took off, and Cortez followed her. On the way to the front of the house, he spotted Nadine and the girls at the pool. Antonella and Gabriela were splashing around, while Nadine sat in the shade on a lounger, reading a book.
He had to get Fabiana out of there. Her presence would only upset Nadine.
Fabiana, a slender woman of German and Argentine descent, stood in the open foyer wearing an orange pantsuit. Her ginger-colored hair was pulled back into a sleek updo that underscored her high cheekbones and narrow features. She looked almost exactly the same as the last time he’d seen her, except for one very major detail. She held a sleeping baby in her arms, bundled in a blue blanket and blue cap.
“Fabiana, what are you doing here?”
“Mein liebling.” Her gaze assessed him fondly.
The endearment took him aback. They hadn’t seen each other in about a year, and she hadn’t been so affectionate then. She’d been downright irate that he hadn’t been willing to make a commitment. Hence the reason she’d quit Musica Fuerte and they’d gone their separate ways because, in her words, “she was no man’s whore.” He had understood her frustration but been unwilling to alleviate it because he hadn’t wanted a relationship.
Fabiana was not the kind of woman he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, but she had been the ideal companion in two very specific ways. She looked great on his arm the few times they’d gone out, and she actually enjoyed attending the industry events. Because she’d worked in the music business for years, she knew a lot of the players and could comfortably hold a conversation with them on just about any hot topic.
“A friend told me your ex-wife is back in Buenos Aires.” She made the statement calmly and without a flicker of emotion.
Cortez looked at the child and looked at Fabiana. “That’s correct.” Her presence made him uneasy, as if he shouldn’t relax too much. “I didn’t know you were back in the country.”
“I have been back for some time. Keeping a low profile.”
Very unusual for her. Fabiana liked to see and be seen.
“How was your trip? How are you?”
“Fine, considering.”
She placed a hand on her stomach, the suggestive movement immediately sending a sensation like crawling ants down Cortez’s spine. His eyes dropped to where her fingers lay splayed across her midsection.
“Considering…?”
“I came back to have a baby.” A wide grin spread across her face, her features lighting up with excitement. In the depths of her eyes, he also saw hesitation.
“A baby?” Cortez croaked. He looked at her stomach, still covered by her hand, as if protecting the life that no longer resided there. His gaze landed on the child in her arms, and panic beat in his skull.
“Yes.” She looked genuinely ecstatic. “As you know, I went to see my family in Germany, but I hadn’t felt well the entire time I was there, and I went to see a doctor. That’s when I found out that I was pregnant, and then our little tiff seemed so silly.” She laughed easily, as if recounting the story to an old friend and not the man she’d shocked almost speechless with her news.
He couldn’t believe how she’d mischaracterized their argument. She’d hurled insults at him—one of many being that he was still in love with his ex-wife, peppered with copious amounts of expletives. Even after they had calmed down enough to speak in reasonable tones, he’d seen the simmering anger in her eyes and the disappointment that he refused to offer her more.
“I want you to meet Erich Alesini,” she said, coming closer. Still smiling, she walked over and placed the sleeping infant in Cortez’s arms. He stared down at the child in bewilderment, examining the tiny nose, the plump cheeks, and the rosy little mouth.
His heart beat faster and something inside him shifted. Traitorous feelings emerged fro
m out of nowhere and filled his chest. Excitement. Joy.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” Fabiana breathed. “Antonella has a little brother. And you have a son.”
Cortez looked up, prepared to argue against what she’d just said, but caught movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and saw the last thing he’d ever wanted to see.
Nadine, with wounded eyes looking back at him from a stricken face.
Chapter 19
Fabiana was gone, but her appearance had destroyed what little peace Nadine had managed to claim.
To think, hours after discussing a possible reconciliation and anticipating her daughter’s squeals of excitement when she told her they’d be moving back to Buenos Aires, she discovered that her ex-husband had fathered a child with another woman.
“Congratulations.” She barely got the words past numb lips.
“I don’t know that he’s mine.” Cortez’s voice was grave and emotionless. He stood beside the leather sofa in his office, watching her as she paced back and forth.
“You don’t know that he’s not.” The bottom had officially fallen out of Nadine’s little dream world. Please let this be a bad dream. Maybe if she pinched herself she’d wake up.
“Nadine—”
“This is what you wanted.”
“No.” The fingers of both his hands tensed into tight fists.
“Maybe not with her, but you wanted another child.” She knew the truth, even if he denied it.
“We wanted another child. You and me.”
She let out an uneven breath, fighting the jealousy and hurt of knowing Fabiana would give him what she couldn’t.
“This shouldn’t change anything between us,” Cortez said.
“Is that what you think?” Nadine laughed softly. Everything had changed as far as she was concerned.
“Just because she had a baby doesn’t mean that you and I can’t—”
“She didn’t have a baby. You both did. Can you honestly tell me that some part of you isn’t excited about being a father again?”
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