by Ann Major
Vivian wiped her perspiring brow and turned away to stare at the jungle. Isabela didn’t deserve to be hurt.
She felt torn too, because her feelings for Cash ran deeper than any she’d ever felt for anyone. She would never forget him. Her hands knotted the thick black fabric on her knees. No way did a divorcée who was a college dropout deserve a man like him.
Finally the men finished and Cash tipped each of them. Eusebio climbed into the wrecker’s truck, and Cash slid unsmilingly into the back seat with her. Like her, he kept to his side of the cab and stared out his window, his stiff posture and the tight line of his mouth telling her he wasn’t any happier with himself than she was with herself.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, once they were speeding toward the outskirts of the village. “So terribly sorry…for ruining everything.”
He turned. His face was dark, his green eyes brilliant and bleak. Suddenly the quiet felt ominous in the cab.
“Will you ever forgive me?” she asked. “Will she?”
“Is that really the issue?”
She swallowed. Turning, she stared at the blur of tropical green foliage. She put her hand to her perspiring temple and felt the hammer of her pulse beneath her fingertips. She felt as dazed as a sleepwalker waking from a bad dream. And yet…
“I don’t understand,” she said at last.
“Don’t you?”
She bit her lip again. Everything looked the same as yesterday—the dense foliage, the stone albaradas, these walls that had no cement, and yet the familiar village felt alien and unreal. The giant thatched huts that look liked beehives rushing past them were as quaint as ever. So were the Mayan women she taught, who were wearing their immaculate white, embroidered dresses and standing in front of their houses to wave goodbye to them as their two-vehicle parade passed.
“You want to just pretend it never happened, don’t you,” he said. “We never saw each other naked. We never kissed. We never told each other the stories of our lives.” His voice deepened. “We never made love…. You even want to act like we don’t feel the way we do.”
His tension and his unhappy, shadowed eyes made her ache for the kind and gentle lover who’d been so wonderful to her in bed. But he belonged with a woman from his own class—someone richer, more accomplished and sophisticated.
“I wish it had never happened,” she said.
“Damn you for that lie.”
She knotted her fingers. When he reached for her hand, she pulled it behind her and held it there, keeping it balled into a tight fist.
For a while they drove in a silence that grew so thick and oppressive, she was almost glad when he spoke again.
“What are those three-foot-high metal racks over there?” he murmured, his voice astonishingly soft and deep, the husky sound sending a chill through her because it was so impersonal now.
“Over there!” he persisted gently when she stiffened, refusing to be drawn into conversation. “The ones that look like rusting bedsprings?”
When she still didn’t answer, he nudged her arm. “Can’t we even talk to each other about safe subjects?”
Against her will, her body responded to the warmth of his hand. Instead of showing it, however, she scooted as far from him as she could.
“The rusting bedsprings,” he repeated. “What are they?”
He was driving her crazy. She wanted to ignore him. She had to ignore him. Stubbornly, she thrust her chin out and bit her lips.
“We didn’t commit murder. We made love,” he said. “And now—”
She didn’t want to talk about now. There was no now. Better to talk about the henequen plantations.
“All right. All right.” Her voice caught and she made a little choking sound. “That’s where they used to dry the henequen,” she mumbled, looking before lowering her head and closing her eyes. “As if you could possibly care.”
“I care.”
“Don’t.”
After that, she only spoke to him when Cash asked her a direct question about the big houses in ruins or the ancient machinery on the henequen plantations.
Finally, she blurted, “Quit asking me stupid, tourist questions. This is all wrong—you and me, together… Last night… Us… Trying to act like it meant something when you’re supposed to marry Isabela.”
“It’s you I want,” he said gently.
“You can’t change your mind just because…”
When he wouldn’t stop shaking his head, she moaned. “I’ll hate me forever for ruining her chances with you.”
“Why? It just happened. You came into my bedroom and stripped. You were beautiful—like a dream—but it wasn’t a dream. I like you as a person. You changed my life.”
“Right. Blame me.” She was being crazy, difficult, impossible, but she couldn’t help it. Her life had turned upside down, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
This was all her fault. She should have checked on that water pipe the night he arrived. It took weeks, dozens of conversations to get anything repaired down here. She’d known that.
“Isabela’s wonderful, and I’ve betrayed her,” Vivian said. “I’m a thousand times worse than Julio! I can’t believe I’m this horrible person! Can’t you pretend this never happened and go back to courting her?”
“Then it would be me who was worse than Julio.”
“You can do it. You’re a man.”
“Great,” he snarled. “I’ve fallen for a crazy woman.”
“She’s everything you said you wanted. We discussed this. You said you could plan out your life.”
“And then I met you—crazy, wonderful you.”
“Last night was just sex.”
“Then why are you so damn mad about it? And why do I feel the way I do about you?”
“We’ll get over it.”
“This conversation is getting ridiculous,” he said.
“I was supposed to play fairy godmother. I was supposed to get you to like her more. I don’t have a clue what to do next.”
“We run away together and make love for a week in a thatched hut by the sea until we can’t do it another time.”
“No!”
“Then we tell Isabela the truth.”
She moaned.
“Then I’ll tell her, since you’re so afraid of her.”
“I’m not afraid. I’m—”
“You’re confused,” he said gently, edging closer. “And so am I.”
When his hand touched her arm, she shuddered.
“No, I have to tell her myself,” she said. “And since I’m going to tell her the truth, I might as well level with you.”
Finally knowing what she had to do, she turned toward him, and his dear, dark, handsome face struck her like a blow. Feeling sick and empty even before she spoke, she blurted it out anyway.
“Isabela bribed me to entertain you. She said if I got you to propose, she’d take me with her when she moved to the States. That’s why I came.” She hesitated. “I don’t know why I slept with you. But I know I’m not right for you. It was just something crazy that happened because I’m scared of rep—amphibians.”
“Do you have to talk so damn much?”
“All I wanted was an airplane ticket and enough money for a fresh start.”
“Really? So all that fire and light and love was just for money?”
It was a ridiculous lie. Anybody could see through it, but her stubborn streak took over, and she stuck to it. She sighed.
“I guess I got carried away.”
“You damn sure did. So—all you want now is a ticket home and money for a fresh start?”
She locked her eyes on his dark face and nodded.
He drew a slow breath. “Well, you were worth every penny. If Isabela doesn’t come through with the ticket, I damn sure will.”
When the driver of the wrecker drove into the carport, Cash and Vivian had long since quit speaking. Miguelito, wearing wet swimming trunks, ran to greet them. Concho leapt up, barking,
his tail thumping excitedly.
“Why didn’t you come home, Mommy? Tía was screaming and crying. Papacito even called the police.” Miguelito smiled. “But the police were too busy to come.”
“Thank goodness.” As she knelt, he took her hands and held on tightly. “There was a storm, my darling. We hit a wall.”
“Were you hurt?” Miguelito’s troubled black eyes were huge.
She shook her head and drew him closer.
“She was with me. She was fine,” Cash said.
Vivian wrapped her child in her arms and hugged him fiercely. Moments later a gate slammed, and Julio strode into the carport.
“Miguelito! There you are. You’re not supposed to run off without telling Papacito, where—”
“He’s with me,” Vivian said.
“Vivi!” Then Julio saw Cash. “I see,” he murmured, his voice thick with insolence and innuendo.
Vivian lowered her eyes. “Not in front of Miguelito.”
“Isabela went crazy last night,” Julio said.
Vivian said nothing.
“I was worried sick about you, too,” Julio persisted.
“As you see—I’m fine.”
“Julio?” Tammy yelled from the other side of the wall.
“In the carport, querida!” Julio responded.
“We were in an accident,” Cash said matter-of-factly. “The phones were out. We got back as soon as we could. Period.”
She could feel the heat of Julio’s eyes burning her face. She had to get Miguelito away before Julio erupted.
Tammy ran into the carport in a minuscule black bikini, water dripping down her long, golden legs.
“Take Miguelito back to the pool,” Julio said.
“Thank you,” Vivian said, as Tammy took the child and led him away.
“You come here to see my sister, Mr. Cash McRay, but you stay out all night with my wife.”
Cash’s mouth thinned. “She divorced you, remember?”
“Isabela is my sister. Vivi is the mother of my son. Vivi’s vulnerable. She’s family.”
Vivian winced at Julio’s high-handedness.
“She’s all those things…and more,” Cash said.
“I don’t want you using her and hurting her. You’re rich and famous. You overpower her better judgment.”
“Give her a little credit,” Cash said.
“Stop it. I won’t have you discussing me like this!”
To her surprise they obeyed her. When she was sure the conversation was over, she left them to check on Miguelito.
Miguelito beamed happily when he saw her, and she smiled too.
“Watch me dive,” he said.
“Don’t run—”
Of course, he forgot and ran, and she had to tell him again.
A few minutes later Cash stopped by the pool. His eyes were dark and his mouth still grim as he sat down in one of the heavy teak chairs beside her.
“Can we go somewhere and talk?” he said.
Her eyes on Miguelito, she leaned forward. He ran onto the diving board and began to jump up and down before he got to the end. He was so excited he wasn’t concentrating on what he was doing.
“Watch me,” he screamed as he leaned over the water, arms out in front, fingers pointed.
“I had a wonderful time with you,” Cash said. “No matter what kind of woman you think I want, you are special—at least to me.”
So are you. Cash’s face was so classically chiseled it might have been one of the Mayan gods. Her stomach tightened, and she turned, squinting against the glare.
“Please—just leave me alone. I have a little boy…a little life.”
“I have no life without you.”
“You got laid. You’re wealthy and attractive. You can have any girl. So big deal.”
“You’re not watching me!” Miguelito yelled, bouncing higher than he ever had before.
“Just go,” she continued. “I’ll tell Isabela that I seduced you. That it wasn’t your fault. I’ll let you off easy.”
“Do you ever listen? You’re the first real thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” he said. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Falling in love—
She made a soft, almost inaudible sound. Julio had used those same words so easily, and she’d fallen for them hard.
Somehow she resisted the urge to throw herself into his arms and kiss him senseless. She had to be smarter this time. She had to do what was right for all of them.
“It was a dream,” she said. “And dreams can’t last. Isabela’s the kind of woman you should marry.”
“Do you ever listen? I repeat—she’s not right for me.”
“Do you listen? I love Isabela like a sister,” Vivian said.
“I know. That’s how I probably love her too.”
“Stop it. This is tearing me to pieces. Okay?”
He nodded. She hated the way he looked so tortured and somehow defeated.
“All right,” he said.
“I have to handle her my own way.”
“What about us?”
Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked so he wouldn’t see them. She was sorry about what she had to say, sorrier than he could ever imagine.
“What about your offer of a ticket and money for a fresh start?”
“I know what I said, damn it. I was madder than hell.” He caught a breath. “I can’t give you up.”
The sun beat down upon his dark hair, and her body was more conscious of him than it had ever been before. It was as if he were part of her and would always be part of her. Then she looked past him to the small dark figure who was still bouncing up and down on the board.
Miguelito had moved even farther back on the board. “Darling, no. You can’t jump until you’re standing on the end— No!”
Cash’s head whipped around. One glance at the boy bouncing so clumsily and Cash sprang toward the pool. He dove at the exact moment Miguelito’s dark head hit the edge of the board and his body tumbled into the water at an angle.
Two powerful strokes and Cash was under the board, grabbing the boy by his thin arms, pulling him up to fresh air and safety. Julio bellowed orders. In no time, Cash had Miguelito at the shallow end and was lifting him out of the water into Julio’s arms.
Miguelito opened his eyes and stared at his parents vaguely.
“Is he okay?” Vivian whispered.
Julio hit him so soundly on the back, the child spit out a stream of water.
“I think he’s going to be fine,” Cash said as he climbed out of the pool. His clothes were soaked, and water flooded the red tiles around the pool. His wet white shirt was plastered to his muscular torso. A black lock of hair fell across his dark brow, and he kept pushing it back. He looked sexy and infinitely dear.
And he had saved Miguelito.
“Feeling okay?” he asked as he knelt and pressed Miguelito’s hand.
“My head hurts.”
“It probably will for a while.” Cash got up slowly. “I guess I’d better go change, and comb my leonine mane.”
Miguelito smiled up at him, and Vivian was suddenly so terrified of her feelings for the man towering above her that she looked down at her child, not trusting herself even to thank him. Instead of dealing with those feelings, she hugged Miguelito’s wet body fiercely and kissed his cheeks over and over again.
“Cash rescued you, darling” was the best she could manage by way of thanks.
“Thank you, Cash,” Miguelito called, and then he turned inquisitive black eyes to her. “Why is he going away? Why are you mad at him?”
“I’m not!”
Julio eyed her suspiciously. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped the boy in it. After that he put his arms around his ex-wife and son and held them protectively, as if they belonged to him.
“The gringo must go,” he said in a low tone.
“But I like him, Papacito. He saved—”
“He does not belong here.”
“
Can we discuss this later?” Vivian asked, meaning when Miguelito wasn’t around.
She wasn’t about to tell Julio that for once she agreed with him.
Stifling an unexpected attack of nervousness, Vivian straightened her shoulders and knocked softly on Isabela’s carved, bedroom door. When there was no answer, she turned the handle and stepped tentatively over the threshold. The bedroom was dark because the shutters were closed, and Isabela had the lights off.
“Don’t turn on the light, Vivi.” Isabela’s whisper floated from the bed across the shadowy vastness.
“Why didn’t you answer me?”
“I was too afraid.”
Guilt lodged like a fist in Vivian’s throat as she headed toward the huge dark shape that was Isabela’s double bed.
“How did you do as my fairy godmother?” Isabela asked in a soft, unnatural voice.
“I told you not to make me go,” Vivian replied, staring dully at the floor.
“What did you two do?”
“We went to the beach house. He worked. He drew.”
“That sounds so…dull.” Isabela’s voice was stiff.
Vivian’s stomach felt queasy.
“I wish I could have been there, but—” Isabela snapped at the chain on her bedside lamp. Her face was still red and swollen, but her intense black eyes held infinite trust as she stared at Vivian. “Thank you for taking him. The doctor says I’m a little allergic after all. I can’t let Cash see me like this. You have to entertain him again today.”
“No!”
“Just one more day. Please—”
Dios. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“I don’t care about my SUV.”
“That’s not it. Oh, Isabela, I’m so ashamed. I love you so much.”
“You slept with him?” Isabela said after a tense silence, her voice so low and wretched Vivian could barely hear her.
Vivian forced herself to meet the blazing hurt in her sister-in-law’s eyes. “It was my fault. Totally my fault. Not his.”
Isabela went white. “H-how could you? Never in a million years did I believe that would be your answer.” Her black eyes lit up, and she grabbed her nail file and pointed it at her own heart.