One-Click Buy: September 2010 Silhouette Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  He reached for his coffee mug and took a long swallow of the fragrant brew. Rina was mesmerized, watching the grace of the muscles working in his throat, the faint trace of moisture left on his lips, even the ripple of strength as he leaned forward and put down the mug.

  “I meant what I said last night. I overstepped our boundaries and I shouldn’t have.”

  Rina decided since she’d already been honest about how she felt, she may as well continue. “You didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want at the time. But just so we’re clear, I’m not ready to explore this any further right now. I know we’re—” she hesitated a second “—engaged and for most couples it would be normal for our relationship to be…” She waved her hand, not willing to verbalize the images that filled her mind when she let her guard down. “Anyway, I think we should just keep taking it one day at a time. Yes?”

  Rey held her gaze as he slowly inclined his head. “I do not wish to do anything to jeopardize our engagement. One day at a time sounds sensible.”

  “Good.” She smiled, relief breaking through her. “So tell me a bit about the vineyard. How old is it, what level of production, do you export, hold tastings?”

  He laughed and raised a hand. “One question at a time, please. I thought you said you were good for ideas and typing, but you’re sounding like a professional.”

  Ice trickled down Rina’s spine. She’d overplayed her hand. Just like that, she’d gone and done again the very thing she was trying so hard to avoid. She had to be more careful.

  “Maybe a bit more of my sister rubbed off on me than I thought,” she replied ruefully, hoping he’d accept her response.

  “Okay, it’s probably better if I give you the rundown on the way. Finish your tea and we can be off.”

  By the time Rina drove herself home to the cottage that night she was both physically exhausted and mentally exhilarated. It had been difficult holding back the knowledge and thought processes that were second nature to her, but she’d done it. Now her mind was bursting at the seams with ideas and concepts to help lift the del Castillo resort profile and to promote the vineyard, and the very fine wines they had begun to produce overseas.

  Once inside the cottage bedroom, she switched the tones back on for her phone, and dropped it into her bag before quickly changing out of the clothes she’d worn to the office and into a pair of shorts and a tank top. While traveling in the air-conditioned splendor of Rey’s car, or during the time at the resort, the temperatures had been bearable but entering the sunbathed cottage after it had been closed up all day was like stepping into a sauna.

  She pushed open as many windows as she could, to let the air flow through, and made her way out the back of the cottage where a deep shaded porch looked toward the cliffs. From here, she could hear the sea. Its sound was soothing after the busy day she’d had. On her way through the cottage she’d stopped to pour herself a glass of the Tempranillo wine the vineyard manager had pressed upon her. It was the wine that had stood out the most for her during the tasting session she’d enjoyed and she was anxious to start making notes on the ideas that swam about in her head for raising the vineyard’s profile.

  A light sea breeze teased the pages of her notebook as she scrawled her thoughts onto the paper. Eventually, her mind ran dry and she put down her pen, reached for her wine and sat back in the wicker armchair to enjoy the moment. Bit by bit, she could feel herself relax.

  The vista from this back porch was amazing. Not too far away, she could see the beautiful castillo where Rey and his brothers had been raised. She’d yet to see inside it but if the exterior was any example, she was sure the interior was a masterpiece of old meets new. Had the governess walked the distance between the small castle and her humble cottage that fateful day that she cast the curse? Rina wondered. Had it been a glorious sunshiny day like this one, filled with light and hope and promise? Or had it been dreary and dismal, the castillo the only golden beacon on what must be a forlorn landscape in the depths of winter?

  Thinking about the governess and the legend spurred off another string of ideas and Rina put down her glass and lifted her pen, losing herself in the moment. A sound in the distance stirred her from her activities. With a sense of shock she realized it was her BlackBerry—the ringtone the one she’d allocated to Sara. She’d gotten so absorbed in her day and her ideas that she completely lost track of the whole reason why she was here.

  She dashed from the chair and ran inside to the bedroom, shaking her handbag upside down until the phone fell onto the bed. Quickly, she hit the talk button.

  “Hello? Sara? Please tell me it’s you.”

  Laughter, so like her own, filled her ear.

  “Hey, Reeny-bean. How’s it going? Are you keeping everything under control?”

  It was so good to hear her voice, but Rina couldn’t stop to think about that. Instead her mind flooded with questions that demanded to be answered.

  “When are you coming back?”

  Silence greeted her.

  “Sara?” she prompted, and was rewarded with the sound of her sister’s sigh.

  “It’s difficult, Rina. Things aren’t going quite like I thought they would. I can’t come back yet. Everything’s still up in the air.”

  “What’s up in the air?” Rina’s disappointment at her sister’s words, and the sense of helplessness that engendered, pierced her voice. “You have to tell me something. I’m going crazy here. What you’ve asked me to do—it isn’t fair to me and it certainly isn’t fair to Rey.”

  “Oh, Rey, he’ll be fine. He’s a player, he knows the score.”

  “That’s not the point, Sara. I’m living a lie, for you. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

  “Please don’t say anything yet. Promise me, Rina? I will owe you forever for this, and I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can. You know me. I don’t want to say something too soon to jinx this and have it all blow up in my face.”

  Blow up in Sara’s face? Rina thought, with an exasperated sigh. What about the very real possibility of it blowing up in Rina’s?

  “And when do you plan on telling me? I mean it, Sara, I can’t keep this up. I’m terrified I’m going to let something slip, especially now I’m working with him.”

  “You’re what?” Sara’s disbelief echoed down the phone line.

  “You heard me.” She explained about Rey’s PA and the pressure he was under with his brother still recuperating in hospital, as well. “I offered to help. I had to. You know me.”

  Sara whistled, long and low. “Wow, so how am I doing in an office environment?” she asked.

  “That’s not funny, and you know it. When are you coming back?”

  “I…I don’t know. Maybe a week?” Sara hedged.

  “Are you okay? You’re not in any trouble or anything, are you? Maybe I should come to you.”

  “No! You can’t do that. There’s nothing you can do for me here. I need you right where you are. I’ll make it up to you, Reeny-bean. Truly, I will,” her twin implored.

  Rina gripped her phone tightly in her hand and counted slowly to ten. “That’s it, then. A week. After that, I’m telling him the truth.”

  “I’ll tell him the truth myself—I promise, I will—as soon as I get back.”

  “A week, Sara. That’s my absolute limit.”

  “I know. I gotta go. Love you, Rina, and thank you. You’re saving my life.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. Is it really that serious?”

  “I’m just kidding. Everything’s fine. Like I said, I’ll tell you all when I come back. Now I gotta go.”

  Sara blew kisses down the phone then disconnected the call, leaving Rina standing in the bedroom, phone still to her ear, and filled with a frustration that brought tears stinging into her eyes. She’d really thought talking to Sara would make her feel better about the decision she’d made to continue with the farcical sister swap. Instead, she felt even more confused.

  Did Sara even
love Rey?

  How had she referred to him? A player who knew the score? What score? And who referred to the man they had promised to marry as a player, anyway?

  Rina threw her phone down onto the bed and went outside to retrieve her glass of wine and her notes. At least now, she had a finite time to look forward to—a date when all this would be over and she could go back to being Sarina Woodville again.

  But what of Reynard and her feelings for him? What of Sara and whatever decision she was about to make? Could Rina really stay here and watch her sister pick up where she left off with Rey? The answer resounding in her head was an emphatic no, so where would that leave her?

  And how could she tell Sara that she’d fallen in love with her fiancé?

  Even as the truth of her words echoed in her mind, Rina tried desperately to refute them. She couldn’t be in love. It didn’t happen that fast. She’d only been on the island just over two weeks. Granted, she’d spent a great deal of that time with Reynard, but she couldn’t love him, could she? She’d spent years with Jacob—slowly building a relationship, setting plans in place for their future. Even as she grasped at those straws, she knew that what she’d shared with her ex was nothing like the inferno that burned between her and Rey.

  She tried to call upon the logic that usually dictated her life, but reason had deserted her as effectively as her sister. All she could think about was the way she felt every time she saw him. Every time they touched.

  She knew she wanted more. She wanted it all. And she knew she could never sit back as an uncommitted bystander and watch her twin marry the man that set her on fire with only a glance.

  Rina slugged back a generous mouthful of wine, relished the sensation of it sliding over her tongue and down her throat, before pouring herself some more. She needed oblivion—something, anything, to erase Reynard del Castillo from her mind and from her heart. Even if it was only temporary, she needed the respite from a truth she didn’t dare acknowledge.

  Eleven

  Rey tried to ignore the scent of Sarina’s hair and the way it spiraled wildly over her shoulder, touching his shirt as he leaned forward to read what she was explaining. He couldn’t believe they’d been working together for an entire week now. An entire week without touching her beyond a light kiss on the cheek, morning and evening, as she arrived and left the office.

  It had proven more difficult than he’d anticipated, keeping his hands off her delectable body, especially now that he knew how responsive she could be. He’d spent the past several days in an uncomfortable state of semi-arousal which had left him irritable and short with all his staff. It was soon obvious they blamed Sarina for the change in his usually easygoing mood, and he’d noticed a certain coolness among some of the staff in the way she was treated by them.

  Under normal circumstances he’d have put a stop to it, without question, but these were anything but normal circumstances.

  She continued to carry off the pretense of being her sister quite well, he thought, even going so far as to say she’d discussed some aspects of the new campaign with her by phone before presenting them to him earlier in the week. He couldn’t mistake her acumen for Sara’s, however. Not that Sara was unintelligent—she was completely the opposite—but there was an attention to finer detail that was imminently apparent in Sarina’s observations and suggestions that her sister lacked.

  He forced himself to tune back into what she was saying.

  “So you see, if we introduce the tapas bar to the pool area of the resort, that will keep guests on the grounds, rather than seeing them travel out farther to find light meals, but it won’t affect the bistro and à la carte restaurants in any way. It’ll also appeal to your younger crowd and I think you need to look at pitching inclusive packages to the twenty-five to thirty-five age group. They have disposable income, they’re more likely to be involved in holidays for comfort and leisure’s sake than extended overseas trip like the, say, eighteen to twenty-fives. Plus, it’ll bring a younger dynamic to the resort and perhaps even encourage them to come back in future years on family packages.”

  “It sounds good in principle. Let’s see what the rest of the family says when we go to the castillo for dinner tonight. You can present your ideas for the vineyard and winery, too.”

  “The rest of the family—that includes Benedict?” She looked up from the report she’d been referring to.

  “Yes, Alex picked him up from the hospital today and brought him back to the castillo to give him some peace. The security at his house is insufficient to give him the privacy he needs right now.”

  When news of Ben’s release leaked to the press, both local and European paparazzi had descended on the vineyard and, more particularly, the outskirts of Benedict’s home in the mountains, eager for a photo of the debilitating scars that were said to mar his once perfect body.

  If only they knew, Rey thought, that the scars they sought to expose to the world were nothing compared to the news Benedict had only shared with his brothers the night before his release from hospital. Ben had insisted Abuelo not be told—partly because he hadn’t wanted to cause their grandfather any more worry, but more particularly because he didn’t want the old man to have another reason to bring the curse back into family discussions.

  It was enough that the media had, hard on the heels of Alex and Loren’s nuptials, exposed the curse for all the world to read about and had drawn their own conclusions about Benedict’s accident. If they discovered Benedict’s injuries had left him infertile, who knew where the media would take things? More importantly, who knew how Abuelo would take the news?

  “But he’s just out of hospital. Is he up to a family dinner?”

  Benedict’s release from the hospital had been a relief for all the family. That was not to say, though, that everything was back to normal. He was much quieter than he’d been before. Abuelo had waxed long and lyrical about how a man who’d just faced death needed time to make peace with himself and his choices, but Alex and Reynard knew exactly why he was quiet. It was one thing to choose not to have children, but quite another to have that choice irrevocably removed from you. Compounding the issue was Benedict’s adamant refusal to consider the idea of marriage—ever. Who would want him? was his argument. A man who couldn’t give his wife the children her arms ached to hold was no longer a man at all in his eyes. Nothing Alex or Reynard had said to him had been able to convince him otherwise.

  Faced with the same situation Rey couldn’t say he’d have felt any different, although his heart ached for his younger brother. And it killed him to see the light extinguished from Ben’s eyes, leaving in its place the reflection of a hollow anger.

  “It’ll do him good to be among us properly again and discussing business. If he tires, he can easily go to his rooms. Besides, for the first time since the accident, he will be able to focus on something other than his injuries and getting strong again.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Well, I hope he likes what we’ve put together.”

  Rina checked herself for the umpteenth time in the mirror before Rey arrived to pick her up for their dinner at the castillo tonight. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Everyone had been as warm and welcoming as you could expect from a family presented with a fiancée no one had met before. More so, if Aston del Castillo’s pleasure in his grandson’s engagement was any indicator.

  Besides, based on Sara’s call last week, she only had to keep this up for another day, two tops. The sense of relief she felt was almost overwhelming. Keeping up appearances at the office and controlling the magnetic attraction she had for Rey had taken its toll.

  She eyed herself critically in the mirror again. No amount of makeup could hide the ravages of the sleepless nights she’d endured. Even when she had slept, her dreams had been peppered with replays of the night in Rey’s office as well as other more adventurous forays where they melded into one another again and again.

  She’d woken several times, on the point of orgasm. It woul
dn’t have taken much, she knew, to give herself the relief her body longed for, but she’d held back, refusing herself even that release because in her heart of hearts she knew it was still all wrong. Reynard was Sara’s, not hers. She was merely a fill in. Using him, even in fantasy, to fulfill her physical yearnings was too close to infidelity, even for her.

  Rina had already made up her mind to leave Isla Sagrado the second Sara returned. She’d go visit extended family in the United Kingdom for a while, then return home and begin rebuilding a life for herself back in Christchurch. She couldn’t bear to remain here and see her twin with Rey. She could only hope that time and distance would make it easier for her to pretend she hadn’t done the unforgiveable thing and fallen in love with him. Maybe then this aching need would begin to fade and eventually burn out.

  It was probably just a rebound thing anyway. Forced into close proximity with a handsome man she was bound to accept his attentions hard on the heels of being dumped by her own fiancé.

  Outside the cottage she heard the roar of Rey’s car, followed by silence as he cut the engine. Instantly, her heart leaped uncontrollably in her chest. In the mirror she saw her eyes dilate, a wild flush of warmth spread suddenly across her cheeks. Who was she kidding? This was no rebound reaction. Her feelings for Rey were real. Painfully, intolerably real.

  Rina closed her eyes for a second, hiding from the truth reflected in her image. She could do this, she reminded herself for what felt like the thousandth time since she’d embarked on this whole disaster. She’d made it this far. Another day or two was not going to destroy her.

  She went to the door and opened it.

  “Good evening,” Rey responded as she pulled the door wide.

  Her heart caught in her throat as she allowed herself to drink in his presence. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit with a pale cream-colored silk shirt beneath it. His hair was still damp and slicked back from his face, exposing the broad, intelligent forehead and high cheekbones that lent a severe magnificence to his features.