by Dani Collins
“Think about what sort of space you want for your studio as we look at potential homes. I’m sure a darkroom could be built into just about any corner of a house, but give some thought to how that will fit with our day-to-day living.”
“A darkroom! I told you, that’s expensive.” She wouldn’t mind a studio, though.
“As it turns out, I happen to have money. If that’s where your interest lies, pursue it.” He turned into a private road that lacked a for sale sign and wound through a vineyard.
“There’s no money in photography.” Not the sort his level of society expected a woman to make if she was going to pursue a career over homemaking.
“I don’t expect you to make money. Do it for yourself. Be an artist.”
“You’re going to be my patron? Don’t pander to me just because I acted like Lily last night.” She spoke to the window to hide her embarrassment.
“I’m not. I want you to be happy.”
That swung her around because no, he didn’t. He had specifically told her to settle.
He might have recalled that conversation, too. His expression grew stiff as he braked and threw the vehicle into Park.
Poppy glanced around. “I don’t see the agent.”
“It’s not for sale. This is Cesar and Sorcha’s home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me we were meeting them today?” She glanced down at the pantsuit she’d put on hoping to look the part of a rich man’s wife viewing villas as if she knew what such a man needed.
“You look perfect.” He stepped out. “They don’t know we’re coming so they’ll be equally casual.”
“Why don’t they know we’re coming?” she asked as he came around while she was opening the back door to get Lily.
“You’re supposed to wait for me to come around and open your door for you,” he chided.
“I know how to open my own car door. I also know how to look after my own daughter.” She brushed him away from trying to reach in, then grunted as she released Lily and took her weight, dragging her out. “What I don’t know is how I’m supposed to behave when you drop me on relatives who don’t know I’m coming.”
Lily squinted as Poppy drew her from the car and buried her face in Poppy’s neck.
“I’ll keep her,” Poppy murmured as Rico tried to take her. It was pathetic to hide behind her daughter, but she needed Lily’s sturdy warmth to bolster her.
A maid let them in and the view took her breath as they moved from the foyer to a front room where huge picture windows overlooked the Mediterranean.
“Tío!” A young boy of about four ran in wearing red trunks and nothing else.
Rico picked him up. “You remember Enrique? Cesar’s eldest?” he asked Poppy.
“You’ve grown,” she murmured. “Bon dia,” she added in the small amount of Valencian dialect she knew the family used among themselves.
“Say hello to Poppy and Lily,” Rico prompted him.
“Hola. ¿Cómo estás?” Enrique asked with a confidence beyond his years.
Rico gave Enrique’s backside a pat. “You’re wet. How are you swimming? It’s too early in the year.”
“I got in to here.” Enrique touched his belly button.
“And now you’re eating your lunch,” Cesar said, strolling in wearing crisp linen pants and a shirt he was buttoning. He nodded to send Enrique back outside.
This was the most relaxed Poppy had ever seen Cesar, but he still projected a chilly formality not unlike the duque and duquesa. In fact, he greeted his brother with a look that bordered on hostile.
“You’ve lost your drop-in privileges with my family.” It was a very civil, Get the hell out.
Because of her and Lily? Because they were a stain on the family name?
With a muted noise of distress, Poppy closed her arms protectively around Lily and looked to the door.
Rico glanced at her with concern then scowled at his brother. “Now you’ve gone and hurt my wife’s feelings.”
Cesar frowned at her. His gaze dropped to Lily and his frown eased.
“Whose feelings?” Sorcha came up behind her husband. She was blond and effortlessly beautiful in a summer dress with a forget-me-not print. Daywear diamonds sparkled in her ears.
“Poppy.” Her surprise warmed into a welcoming smile that sent the first trickles of relief through Poppy’s defensively stiff limbs. “And here’s Lily.” Sorcha came right up to them and gave Lily’s elbow a tickle. She tilted her head to meet the gaze Lily shyly kept tucked into Poppy’s neck.
“Will you come see me? Let me introduce you to your cousins?” Sorcha held out her hands. “They’ll share their lunch with you. Are you hungry?”
Lily went to her. Who could resist the promise of food and the warm lilt of an Irish accent?
“Thank you, darling. That’s quite a compliment.” Sorcha cuddled her close, then glanced at Rico. Her tone dropped to permafrost. “You can wait in the car.”
“I deserve that,” Rico said with tense sincerity. “I regret the hurt I caused you. I wouldn’t interrupt your weekend, but Poppy needs you, Sorcha. Will you help her? If not for me, then for her sake and Lily’s? Please? I know how you feel about family.”
“That’s below the belt!” Sorcha tucked her chin, looked as though she wanted to punish him further, then gave a little sigh. “Since you’ve brought me this very precious gift—” She snuggled Lily more securely onto her hip. “I will forgive you. This one time.” She smiled at Poppy without reserve. “And of course I’ll help you any way I can. I would have called you later this week.” Another dark look toward Rico. “I didn’t want to wait until our gala next month. I’m so glad you’re here. Come join us.”
“What did you do?” Poppy hissed at Rico as he fell into step beside her.
“Said something that doesn’t bear repeating.” To her surprise, he took her hand and wove their fingers together, giving her a little squeeze. “But Sorcha knows what you’re up against. Let her be your guide.”
It struck her that this had been hard for him. She doubted it was in his nature to ask for help any more than it was in hers. He and Cesar were obviously on rocky ground, but he had invaded their family time for her sake.
“Please tell Chef we’re four adults and three children for lunch now,” Sorcha said easily to the hovering butler.
“Champagne,” Cesar added, holding Sorcha’s chair as she lowered with Lily and kept her in her lap. “Boys, this is your cousin, Lily. Can you say hello and welcome her and Auntie Poppy to the family?”
Enrique began to giggle. He pointed his fork at Cesar. “That’s Papi.”
Poppy smiled. “Maybe you’ll have to call this one Tío Mama now.” She thumbed toward Rico as he helped her with her own chair.
Enrique nearly tumbled out of his, laughing at the absurdity as he repeated, “Tío Mama.”
Poppy bit her lip with remorse, suspecting she’d released a genie that wouldn’t go easily back into its bottle. She called on one of Gramps’s favorite tricks for getting through to a child who had a case of the sillies. She leaned over and spoke very softly so Enrique would have to quiet to hear her.
“My grandfather used to tell me it was okay to tease your family with a funny name when you were alone, but you have to remember to be respectful when you’re with others. Will you be able to do that?”
Enrique nodded and clamped his smile over his fork, eyes full of mischief as he looked at Rico.
“Sorry,” Poppy mouthed as she caught Sorcha’s amused glance. “You have a very beautiful home,” she added, glancing at the placid pool and the profusion of spring blooms surrounding it.
“Thank you. We’re extremely happy here.” Sorcha looked to her husband for confirmation, but her smile reflected more than happiness. Even two years ago it had been obvious to Poppy these two were deeply in love.
/> While Rico wore his customarily circumspect expression.
“I want one of those,” Cesar informed Sorcha with smoky warning, nodding at Lily where she sat contentedly in Sorcha’s lap, fist clenched around a spear of juicy peach.
“Let’s keep this one.” Sorcha pressed her smile to the top of Lily’s head. “She’s exactly what we’ve been thinking of.”
“We should probably try making our own before we resort to stealing.”
“Picky, picky. But if you insist, I’ll have my people talk to your people. Schedule a one-on-one for further discussion.”
“Really?” Rico drawled of the flirty banter. “In front of the children?”
“They’ve walked in on worse,” Cesar muttered, rising as the butler arrived with the champagne. “Learn to lock doors,” he advised while Sorcha looked to the sky.
The lunch passed with easy chatter and the wiping of sticky fingers.
“I’m so glad Rico brought you today,” Sorcha said later, after a travel cot had been found for Lily and she’d been put down for her afternoon nap while the men took the boys into the vineyard. Sorcha sobered. “I’m very glad he went looking for you. Are you angry with me?”
“For telling him? No.” Poppy crossed her arms. “I’d been thinking about doing it. Things were complicated at home so I put it off, but it’s all worked out.” For Gran and Lily. Her? Not so much.
“I’m sorry for interfering. I know how hard that decision can be, but I couldn’t let him miss out on Lily. He shut right down after Faustina. My heart broke clean in half for him. I’m so happy to see the way he’s taken to her.”
Poppy nodded dumbly, shielding her gaze with a glance toward the floor so Sorcha couldn’t read the bigger story in her eyes.
“He wants to be a good father. I was afraid of... Well, nothing, I guess,” Poppy admitted ruefully. When it came to Rico’s feelings for Lily, she had every confidence their bond would only continue to grow.
“But?” Sorcha prompted.
“It’s hard.” Her throat thickened and she felt tears pressing behind her eyes. “This is all really hard. Rico and I don’t have what you and Cesar did. The years of familiarity and caring.”
Sorcha choked on a laugh. “Do I make it look like it was easy for us to get where we are? That is quite a compliment and good on me for selling that image, but no. I assure you that what we have was achieved through blood, sweat and tears. Years of loving my boss, if you want the truth. Which is how and why Enrique came about,” she added dryly. “But like the rest of his family, Cesar had kicked his heart under the sofa and forgotten about it. So there will definitely be some heavy lifting required to find Rico’s. I’m sorry to tell you that.” Sorcha sobered. “But I think it’s understandable, given what he’s been through.”
Sorcha thought she knew what Rico had been through, but he wasn’t nursing a broken heart over a lost baby. That was what made this so hard. This wasn’t a matter of mending his heart. Or finding it. It was a matter of him wanting to give it to her. And he didn’t.
But she only nodded again, protecting the secret Rico had entrusted to her.
“It will all be worth it, Poppy. I promise you,” Sorcha said with a squeeze of her arm. “In the meantime, you have me. I’m happy to help you navigate this new world. When I was in your position, I needed help, too. One of these days we’ll go shopping with my friend Octavia. She really does know how to make all of this look easy. For now, let’s go to my closet. I’ll show you what is absolutely essential. Try not to faint.”
* * *
Poppy could feel Rico’s heart slowing to lazy slams beneath her breast. Her sweating body was splayed bonelessly across him. She knew she ought to move, but he stroked his hand down her spine and traced a circle on her lower back, making her shiver. She clenched around him in a final aftershock of ecstasy.
He turned his head, brushing his lips against her temple in what she took as a signal to move. As she started to pry herself off him, however, his arms closed more firmly around her.
“You can stay right here all night,” he murmured lazily.
“Don’t you want to go to the guest room?”
His arms dropped way from her. She rolled off him.
“Do you want me to?” All the indolent warmth disappeared from his tone.
“No.” Her voice was barely audible. “But why are you staying? Because you feel sorry for me?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
“You slept with me last night because I was crying.”
“I came to bed with you because you were crying. I stayed because I wanted to.”
“You didn’t want to those other nights?”
A sigh.
“Rico, I keep telling you I’ve never done this before. This might be how you normally conduct a sexual relationship, but it’s not the way I thought marriage was supposed to be.”
He bit off a laugh. “This isn’t normal. That is the problem, Poppy.” He sighed and repeated more somberly, “That is the problem.”
Even she, with her limited experience, understood that their passion was exceptional. She had climaxed three times before he’d clasped hard hands to her hips and bucked beneath her, releasing with a jagged cry. She imagined she would have fingerprint bruises under her skin and perversely enjoyed having such an erotic reminder linger for days.
Sex was the easy part. Talking to him, catching him alone and digging up the courage to speak her mind and face difficult answers was the hard part. But she made herself do it.
“Is that why you haven’t wanted to sleep with me? Too much sex? Am I being too demanding?”
He blew out a breath that was amused yet exasperated. “No. Although I fear for our lives on a nightly basis.”
“Please don’t make jokes, Rico. I need to understand. You’re the one who said I should keep my expectations realistic. Tell me what realistic looks like because I don’t know.”
“I don’t know, either,” he admitted after a moment. “That’s why I’m not processing this any better than you are. I thought our first time was an anomaly. It wasn’t. It’s shocking to me how powerfully we affect each other. It doesn’t matter that you just spent an hour wringing me out. I want you again. This isn’t normal.”
“I don’t like it, either! I hate that you can snap your fingers and I fall onto my back.”
He threw his arm over his eyes and released a ragged, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m the one who was on his back tonight, corazón. In case you hadn’t noticed.”
“It’s not very comforting to hear that when you’re clearly annoyed by it. Why does it bother you so much that we react this strongly?”
Another silence where she thought he might ignore her question. Finally he admitted, “Passion is dangerous. You know that Cesar was in a car crash some years ago?”
“I only know what’s online about it.”
“Mmm. Well, it happened after he slept with Sorcha. Directly after. I’d always been aware he had a physical infatuation with her. He didn’t give in to base urges any more than I ever thought I would, but that day he did. And he decided the passion they shared was worth blowing up his life for. Mother was pushing him toward an arranged marriage. He went to Diega and told her he wouldn’t be asking her to marry him. We don’t know if he was overwrought or what, but he skidded off the road after he left her and nearly died.”
Part of her panged with empathy. For all his habitual detachment and his recent disagreement with Cesar, Rico was as close to his brother as he was capable of being with anyone. It must have been a terribly worrisome time for him.
But what she also heard was that he really did think the passion between them posed a mortal danger—which equally told her he would hold her at arm’s length because of it.
“It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose, you know.” She rolled away. “I
’m a victim, too.”
“I know.” He followed her, dragging her into the spoon of his body. His voice tickled hotly through her hair. “I’m realizing that uncontrollable passion isn’t only a crazed act in a quiet solarium. It’s a hunger that refuses to be ignored. I’m not a dependent person, Poppy. I don’t like being unable to suppress a craving that isn’t a need. But I don’t see the sense in hurting you, making your assimilation here more difficult because I’m displeased with myself.”
It was hardly a declaration of love, but he didn’t want to hurt her. It was something. She relaxed deeper into the bend of his body.
“You are trying to kill me,” he accused, aroused flesh pressed to her backside.
She rolled to face him, stretching against him in a full-body caress.
“Maybe this is our normal.”
“Maybe it is. Let’s hope we survive it.”
* * *
Over the next few weeks, Poppy tried to think of this new life as something she could do, rather than something that was being done to her. It helped to take the wheel, even if she wasn’t sure where she was going. She began reviewing the week’s menu with the housekeeper and making additions to the shopping list. She toured several properties and told Rico why she felt some of them wouldn’t suit—one had a distinct perfume in the air from the fertilized fields next door, another had rooms that were very closed off from one another.
Rico was dead set on getting a vineyard again and wanted a pool. Poppy mentioned she’d prefer to be close to Sorcha and Lily’s new cousins, to which he said, “Of course. That’s the area I’d prefer as well.”
She even sat down with the nanny and cleared the air. Poppy admitted this was all new to her and she sometimes felt threatened. Ingrid confessed to feeling she wasn’t working hard enough and that’s why she kept stepping up, trying to take Lily off her hands. By the time they finished their coffee and cake, they’d worked out the fine points of a long-term contract, both of them relaxed and smiling.
Rico continued dragging her to dinners and networking events, but they went more smoothly after she began taking Sorcha’s advice and asking the other wives for recommendations on things like shoe boutiques and hair stylists. Their responses went in one ear and out the other, but at least they seemed to warm to her.