by Mimi Barbour
Thoughts bombarded, bouncing crazily in Sheri’s skull. What was she to do now? Once Miguel heard this news, he’d know that he had parental rights to her babies. Damn. Once his mother had fully recuperated, her plans were to file for a divorce. Then he could meet someone else and have other babies. She closed her eyes and sighed. Her hand unconsciously went to her lips so her teeth could work on a fingernail she hadn’t touched in days.
All her plans were screwed. She’d seen his love for her son, scratch that, make it his son. God! With his money, he could fight for the children in court, and no doubt win. Revealing this secret might risk her ever having sole custody again.
Even so, how could she possibly keep the truth from him? He had a right to know. God help her, she’d have to take some time and think this through.
An old adage came to her in a flash. When you know you’re doing something wrong, but you aren’t sure what’s right—do nothing.
***
“Mamacita, don’t be silly. Stay in the hospital. Even though you’ve pulled off a miracle in these last few days, the doctors are still concerned about you.”
“Sure, the old goats charge extra for the worry. I’m fine now that I know you’re bringing Sheri and the babies to Chile. I’m going home where Maria can look after me.”
“Maria isn’t a nurse, she’s a housekeeper.”
“Bite your tongue, mi hijo, and think. Can I get away with any nonsense with that crabby, old harridan?”
Miguel snickered and added, “She’s pretty tough, but my money’s on you. Fine, I’ll stay out of it because I have a big favor to ask, and I know it would be more difficult for you to arrange from the hospital.”
“Anything, Miguel. You know I’d do anything. I’m so pleased with you today, you could order the sun, and I’d get that old witch Maria to conjure a spell.”
He chuckled. “What kind of medication are they feeding you?”
“Aha! My lips are sealed. Tell me. What is it you want from me?”
“I’m in trouble because I forced Sheri into a marriage ceremony in the building of the justice of the peace. A rather dismal setting without any of the trappings young women today find so necessary. Don’t snort, Mamá. It isn’t ladylike.”
“Then don’t talk rubbish. Of course, your bride wants the trappings. Her wedding day should have been special. Leave everything to me. She shall have her moment to shine.”
“Te adoro, mi mamá. I leave everything in your capable hands. Adios.”
“I adore you also Miguel. You’ve made me a very happy woman.”
Miguel clicked the off button on the phone and held it under his chin. Should he have waited and let Sheri get to know his large family before throwing her to the uncles, aunts and cousins? Did she even think of their union as a reason to party, maybe a pity party?
His cheeky wife could turn either way in the blink of her beautiful soft brown eyes. He would phone his cousin, Paula. She owned two ladies shops in Santiago, one being a wedding store--in fact the biggest and best in the city. He bet she could come up with a lovely dress for his new bride to wear for the celebration. Getting to know Sheri’s tastes over the last while, he bet she’d like something flowing, a creation with lots of beads and sparkles. The things woman went gaga over. He’d buy her a wonderful dress if it would win her over.
Hell, if this party did the trick, maybe it would get her delicious little body into his bedroom and naked in his bed. It might even help her forgive him for conning her into the marriage altogether.
He thought back to the day of their wedding. She’d taken it for granted that he’d stay at his hotel after they’d married. It hadn’t entered her mind that he’d want his husbandly rights. And seeing her distress, he hadn’t wanted to push. But he knew this marriage didn’t stand a chance of lasting, or becoming real unless they found some way to connect and bond. A healthy sex life would be the answer.
Loveless lovemaking with her would be no problem for him. Her beauty intrigued and pleased him. Her luscious frame would entice any man. Looking into her eyes, sprinkles of gold and green in melted chocolate, he saw kindness mixed with shadows, and every once in a while a softness that made him catch his breath. Everything about her made him happy, though to be honest; it was her golden swarm of curls that tended to be his favorite attribute. His hands itched to play amongst all that beauty and his eyes itched to see the lavish mass coiled over her naked breasts.
In the beginning, he’d fought his growing attraction for her because he’d believed her attachment to Charlie had priority. Despite his discomfort, when he’d asked if she were involved with someone else, he could have sworn she’d answered truthfully. Slapping his hands on his knees, he stood, paced and muttered. Cool it! Sheri’s not another Margarita.
Years of military training had taught him many things. To date--his best skill was that he could pick out a lying cheat as if they had a red light on their forehead blinking ‘Lie’ ‘Lie’.
Of course, his faith in that skill had taken quite a blow since his own fiancé had played him for a fool. Maybe he wasn’t as good as he’d always believed or maybe in Margarita he’d just found the ultimate liar.
Chapter Seventeen
Both babies were happily nestled in cots in the first class cabin near their parents. They’d behaved remarkably well considering their different surroundings and all the various new noises. Sheri puffed with pride when Miguel commented. “They’re so good. I can’t believe how easy this trip has turned out.”
She nodded and then furtively tapped the closest wooden article within reach.
“The doctor’s suggestion of waiting to feed them until we embarked made a lot of sense, and being full did help them settle down. Plus, they’re so happy to be together again. Though I should warn you, don’t hold your breath.”
He laughed. “You joke, but I hear the proud mamá in your voice. Be honest. They could be making double the uproar that we hear from the other cabin.” For a good long time, someone else’s unhappy child had let the passengers of the overseas flight know of its fury.
Quite often acquaintances stopped to visit with Miguel, and he’d introduce her and brag about his new family. At times, it seemed as if he knew half the plane.
Sheri let her smiles, nods and handshakes replace vocal greetings. The strangeness of the Spanish language threw her. She promised herself at the very first opportunity that Spanish lessons would be added at the top of a list titled New Wifely Duties.
Wifely duties. The words made her grab the armrest and dig in her nails. Nope. Don’t wanna to go there. Ever since he’d let her know of his expectations, she’d shaken off any and all thoughts of her nightly obligations to her lawful spouse. After all, her riveting techniques at lovemaking hadn’t kept her last man from straying. So what gave her the impression she’d be any better after she’d let time, fear, and a whole lot of hurt cloud her natural resilience?
Let’s hope the change in partners will be the mitigating factor for improvement, or she just might have found the perfect revenge on her sexy beast of a husband.
He cleared his throat to get her attention and she said the first thing that came to mind.
“Miguel, I never knew they served such delicious food on an airplane. Fruit and chocolates and after-dinner liqueurs. How spoiled can you get?”
“How many times have you flown first-class?”
“Aha! I knew there had to be a catch.” Damn but she loved it when he laughed.
“Have you ever been on a plane before?”
“A few times, but not any overseas flights and never first class. I guess the longest would have been from Vancouver to Washington. I have to admit to feeling intense relief when I saw Mary-Anne waving from behind the barrier. You might not believe this, but up to now, I’ve led a pretty sheltered life.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe this?”
“You know. Me being so worldly and all.”
“Of course, how silly of me. My wife, the famous ch
ildren’s author.”
“Quit teasing. I’ll have you know I even get fan mail.”
“Give me their names, and if they’re males, I’ll write to their mothers. Next thing you know, one of them will stalk you on his bike.”
“Cute. I’ll have you know I received one the other day from an adult written in a foreign language. Sent to my website address. I wrote it down. In fact, I think it’s in Spanish. Maybe you could read it for me.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of the side of her purse and handed to him.
He didn’t read from the written words, he just translated. “Dear Author, you are a genius with words and your brilliant illustrations are second to none.” Miguel stared into her eyes and added a few more words. “One day you will be famous and make me proud to be your husband. I can’t wait to read your stories to our babies.”
“You sent it.” Pleasure lit up her insides and her smile seemed to mesmerize him. He kept staring at her mouth, until shyness attacked and she wet her lips. Then he looked directly at her, and she saw his eyes. Hot, steamy passion blazed from pearly grey pools of seduction. His hand lifted to her, and he gently scored his finger across the damp surface. She kissed his finger before she realized she would, and his fleeting glance became an interrogation she couldn’t escape.
He groaned. “If I kiss you now, I’ll never be able to stop.”
“So…?”
“You little temptress. If I didn’t fly this airline quite often, I’d take you up on your offer.”
“If you’re going to play hard to get, I think I’ll snooze.” She pushed his hand away and leaned her head against the comfortable headrest, while still keeping him in her line of vision. They’d never experienced moments such as these before, flirting playfully, and Sheri soaked them up like a pitiful drunk drooling over a cheap bottle of wine.
Miguel had no compunction about leaning into her space, and after a period of getting used to him so close, Sheri relaxed and enjoyed his attentions. He touched her often, either to make a point or because it pleased him. Rather than pull away, like a junkie she relished his strokes.
By the time he’d tucked her into her cozy set-up for the night, more than a slight feeling of affection coursed through her brain. His hand holding hers soothed as she gave one last scan around to make sure her babies were both sleeping. When she tugged to retrieve the appendage, he shook his head slightly, held it close to his mouth and oh so gently kissed the palm and then licked it. The decision became final. He could hold her hand forever.
All night, Sheri kept waking up and peeking to see if her husband still slept. He did, clutching her with a tenacity that shocked. Halfway through the night, she freed herself, but as soon as she did, he became unsettled, twitching and troubled, even began searching as if for a lifeline. She quickly replaced her hand and watched as he eased once again into a sound slumber.
Asleep, Miguel had the guise of a troubled soul. Now that she knew a little more of his chaotic background, she could understand the constant sadness that lurked behind the stunning gray eyes and his worldly persona. When one looked at him, they saw a man that women coveted and men envied. Sheri saw a brother and son who carried the world on his shoulders.
Enough! If she kept on this way, she’d begin to imagine she cared about him, and that couldn’t happen. The only way to protect her secret and her heart was to keep both well hidden, safe from intrusion. The foundation for their marriage would be friendship and sharing, honesty and… oh crumb, can’t go there either.
It took a while for her brain to shut off and sleep to claim her, and when it did, all her dreams focused on her husband making passionate love to a stranger who looked exactly like her.
Chapter Eighteen
While they circled the city of Santiago, Sheri took a few moments to gaze at the modern panorama of her new home. The iridescent lights of a large metropolis brightened the dim cabin of the large 747 as it began its descent. In the distance, the sunrise spread streaks of pink, orange and gold in a pattern to delight.
During the flight, the first-class hostesses had been diligent in their favoritism between Sheri and Miguel. They hovered over him like crows over roadkill, all wanting their little bits of flesh. He’d treated them all with South American courtesy, while at the same time making sure that Sheri never got left out. Now that the trip was ending, the diligent and beautiful Angelina Jolie replica returned.
“Señor Rivera? Can we assist you in any way?”
“No, Angelina.”
Figures. Sheri jiggled a toy for Rafael sitting in the booster seat in front of her.
“Thanks for asking. It’s been a comfortable flight. My wife and I thank you.”
Eyebrows met over eyes full of confusion. “Your wife?”
“Yes, we were married in Washington recently. These two adorable creatures are my new family, and this is my wife. Sheri.”
Sheri smiled cheekily at the astounded woman. “Hola,” she said, sounding excessively smug. Then she added ‘hello’ in case her accent hadn’t been perfect. With satisfaction, she enjoyed watching the stewardess offer congratulations in a tone utterly lacking in conviction.
Thinking how the exchange had just made her day and of the e-mail she would be sending to Charly, Sheri turned to her husband whose expression seemed oddly mocking.
“Are you excited to be getting home?” Sheri searched his face and saw his eyes glow with satisfaction.
“A little.”
She leaned her head to the side, eyes questioning.
“Okay! A lot. I look forward to introducing you to my mother and our home. I guess I’m even anxious to return to work. But most of all, bringing Felipe’s children to Chile means the world to me. I can’t tell you how right it feels...inside.” He took her hand in his, shaking it to make her look at him again. “Sheri, what? Every time I mention Felipe you turn strange? If it’s painful to remember, I apologize. For me, his death doesn’t seem real. I’m still trying to adjust.”
“I know, Miguel. It’s me who should apologize for not telling you sooner, but there’s something you need to know about your broth—”
“Don Miguel, welcome back to Santiago.” Polished nails and numerous rings gleamed on the hand that gently rubbed Miguel’s shoulder. Friend or not, her familiarity stood out, and Sheri felt irked somewhat at the beautiful blonde’s audacity. Why the heck should I care? She straightened in her seat and turned away. She’d almost told him the truth and now it’s been put off once again. Well dang-it, she was glad she didn’t tell him here in an airplane. There had to be a better time and place.
Besides, just because he’d been thoughtful these last few days, that didn’t disqualify him from having an agenda. His words brought her back to the moment.
“Thank you, Connie. It’s good to be home.” He turned to include Sheri, but before he could do so, an announcement broke in.
Smiling directly into his gray pools of sexiness with a let’s-you-and-me-get-it-on look, Connie wiggled her fingers, and then swayed to the front of the isle to re-claim her seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Please fasten your safety belts in preparation for landing in Santiago at the Arturo Merino Benitez, International Airport.”
Miguel whispered words in Sheri’s ear that sent tingly sparks ricocheting throughout her body and trepidation rolling in her stomach. “Hold that thought. We’ll talk about it later.”
As part of the elite group, only minutes passed before they were escorted to the luggage area and heading through the doors leading into the open terminal.
Miguel’s cell phone appeared in one hand as he balanced Rafael’s carrier in the other, and used his body to steer the over-flowing luggage cart. A rapid spate of Spanish followed, and he laughed, nodded and said, “Si, si.” Closing the phone, he turned to Sheri following behind, and pointed to an older man waving his own cell phone from the other side of the barrier. “Juan is here to pick us up. He’ll take care of everything.”
Sheri held back,
overcome by the shyness that at odd times seemed to invade and leave her feeling like a child.
Miguel rushed as he got closer to the older man, and they both reached to hug at the same time. As awkward as it was for Miguel holding the baby carrier, he still managed. Turning as she approached, he said. “Sheri, I want you to meet Juan who is our godsend. He’s our driver, gardener, and as close to a father as I can remember since my own died when I was very young. He’s also Maria’s husband. Remember I told you about our housekeeper, Maria?”
If half the humorous stories he’d told her were true, she dreaded meeting the sourpuss, witch of the south.
“Juan.” Miguel looked her way, his proud expression delighting her. “A mi bella esposa, Sheri.”
Sheri put down Carrie-Anne’s chair, turned to her husband, and asked. “Miguel, how do I say ‘I’m pleased to meet him’ in Spanish?”
“Just say encantado.”
Sheri held out her hand and repeated the word as closely as she could. The custom in Chile wasn’t to simply shake hands. The kiss on her cheek and boisterous hug the old man gave her almost lifted her off her feet. Without any hesitation, she squeezed him back and received an added pat on her cheek for her trouble.
Okay, she thought, as they headed home in the fancy, leather-seated black Lexus. Miguel sat up front to assault Juan with a barrage of questions: one down, two to go. Sheri knew Andrea, Miguel’s mother, would be a darling, but Maria scared the heck outta her. Even Mary-Anne, who liked everyone, hadn’t been able to warm up to the old battle-axe. Sheri worried all the way to the outskirts where there were no longer homes with yards, but mansions with acreage.
The children, in their carriers, sat quietly, seeming to be happy they were together. Sheri and Miguel had fussed with them before they left the plane and so they were content, which gave her time to be an interested tourist.