by Ginny Baird
Jess exited the bathroom with a combative air and made a beeline for the armoire.
“Coffee this morning?” he asked, smiling sweetly over the rim of a cup. He extended it in her direction with the calm demeanor of a waiter at an upscale restaurant. She noted his lower region was still covered by a large feather pillow, the musculature of his tanned upper thighs exposed to the morning breeze fluttering in through the window. His toned olive chest sported richly dark hair which tapered in perfect symmetry down the line of his taut abs and plummeted toward the breakfast tray balanced on his lap.
She hesitated a moment, then decided she’d think better after the java. “Fernando,” she said, cinching the oversized towel around her and cautiously inching forward. “You and I have something to discuss.”
He handed her the coffee, then nonchalantly dipped a bit of pastry in his own cup. “I never discuss business before breakfast,” he said, slurping loudly. “Mmm. This pan dulce is delicious. You ought to try it.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said, steadying the cup in her hands.
“Ah yes, that’s right,” he replied with a knowing wave of his finger. “Fairly well satisfied last night. Eh?”
Jess felt her face flash hot as his impish green eyes danced with mirth. “I don’t find any of this very amusing.”
“I’m sorry, Jessica,” he said sadly. “I suppose I was a fool, hoping that you’d be just as excited about this as I.”
She took a slow sip of coffee, studying him all the while. “You claim to be a fool, Fernando. But you’re certainly not fooling me.”
He raised his brow, perplexed.
“Come on,” she said. “Give. What’s in this for you?”
“My new wife has cut me to the quick," he said, bringing a hand to his chest.
“Argh!” She spun toward the armoire, clumsily setting down her cup down on a nearby stand. Porcelain clattered against itself with the effort.
“You’re getting too upset about this,” he said.
“I…don’t…think…so,” she said as she furiously tugged her clothes from huge wooden hangers, then strode toward the bathroom.
“Querida,” Fernando said softly, “please wait.”
She stopped walking, her pulse pounding. It picked up as she felt him behind her, his warmth drawing near. Instinct said that Fernando hadn’t carried the pillow—or anything else—with him. “Perhaps it was…impetuous, unexpected,” he said, palms pressed to her bare upper arms. Goose bumps rose on her flesh as the heat of his breath warmed her neck. “But you can’t completely believe it was wrong.”
But it was wrong, worse than wrong. Marrying Fernando had to be the most terrible decision she’d ever made!
“I have a boyfriend,” she said, the lie escaping as a whisper.
“What a shame.” Palms slid down her arms as Fernando brought his lips to her shoulder. “How do you think he’ll take the news?”
Jess gasped, fighting her automatic feminine response. Nipples hardened beneath terrycloth, and she ached to turn toward him. Being made love to by a strong, confident man like Fernando was nothing short of heaven. The truth was that she and Allen had broken up weeks ago, and the physical relationship they’d shared hadn’t even come close. Still, the illusion of another man was good, maybe the best thing she had at the moment. Until her head cleared, Jess needed every ounce of ammunition against Fernando’s manly advances that she could muster.
“He’ll be outraged,” she said, pulling her mound of clothing in tighter.
“He must love you desperately.”
Jess pursed her lips, fighting the fire in her eyes. The fact was, she didn’t know whether Allen had loved her or not. Just as with her past two boyfriends, he’d never broached the topic—and she’d never yearned to discuss it.
“I don’t do love,” she said hoarsely, making an effort to step away.
Fernando tightened his grip and spun her toward him. “Everybody does love,” he said with an earnest look. “Sooner or later.”
Jess blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “Not this girl.”
Fernando released her, his brow creasing. He’d never seen a woman at once so fragile and strong. There was a sorrow in her eyes that made him want to weep for, and with, her. He wondered how long she’d contained it, keeping that sadness to herself.
“I’ll just be a minute,” she said, turning away.
Fernando watched her leave, thinking this presented more of a challenge than he’d imagined. Then again, if ever there was a man who knew how to rise to the occasion, it was him.
“Take all the time that you need,” he said as she exited the room.
Jessica emerged fully dressed ten minutes later. “As soon as we return to Madrid,” she said, “we’re getting this thing annulled.”
She was beautiful today, smartly polished in a short white dress. He’d be proud to introduce her, if only she’d trade that frown on her lips for one of those winning smiles.
“Annulled?” Fernando questioned, glancing sideways as he straightened the collar of his polo shirt in the mirror. “Don’t you think that’s a little rash?”
“No, Fernando. Rash is getting married to a business colleague after too much sangria. Rash is not doing the sensible thing the next morning.”
Jess didn’t know how she’d let herself get talked into it, but she had. Right down to signing that statement of Proof of Freedom to Marry, endorsed by Father Domingo’s brother-in-law, the retired American Consul, whose powers of persuasion were still apparently in force.
“But we weren’t married in Madrid,” he noted astutely.
Jess considered this a moment, realizing he was right. The marriage had to be annulled right here. But first, she needed to learn precisely where that was. “Where are we?”
“In La Esperanza del Corazón, remember? Place of my birth.”
Yes, it all came stampeding back to her, like a trillion toros on the run. “Of course I recall.”
“Everything…?” he asked, suggestively lifting an eyebrow.
Jess shook her head in agitation. She was not going to let him do this, have her remembering all the wrong things. “I was tipsy…animated, okay? Foolishly and hopelessly in love with life!”
He beheld her wistfully. “Yes, it was lovely.”
Jess fought for the words. “It was reckless,” she countered. “That woman you were with last night wasn’t me.”
“No? Who was it?”
“Someone else.” She huffed, trying to imagine how she’d explain this to her mother. Jess had never gotten so much as a B on a report card. Now here she was, failing life. “My evil twin.”
He laughed out loud. “You’re a Gemini?”
“What?”
“The zodiac sign.”
She was puzzled by this turn in the conversation.
“What do constellations have to do with anything?”
“Perhaps we’re written in the stars,” he said, a sly smile on his lips.
Jess pressed her palms to her temples, thinking hard. Before she told her mother, she’d call Evie; that was what she’d do. Evie would help her straighten things out. If Jess could fix things fast, maybe her mom wouldn’t even have to know.
“I’m a Taurus, if it matters.”
“I might have guessed.”
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
“The Taurus and the toreador? And you tell me there’s no fate?”
She set her jaw, her eyes boring into his. “Fernando Garcia de la Vega, I want you to show me to an Internet connection this minute!”
“That might be a bit complicated. You see, out here en el campo, we have limited…” His voice fell off as he took in her increasingly enraged form. It was one thing to lightheartedly provoke someone. But at this very moment, Fernando sensed he was putting himself in mortal danger. “Okay, all right,” he said, flagging a hand in her direction. “I can see when I’m not wanted.”
His expression took a downcast turn that
almost made her feel sorry for him. The truth was, Jess had wanted him, wanted him in the worst way, which was precisely what had gotten her into this mess! She pulled her cell from her purse and checked it for the tenth time this morning. She still wasn’t picking up service. Just how far from civilization were they?
Fernando gestured grandly toward the door that led downstairs. He unlocked it, then held it open. “Fair’s fair, Jessica. After all, no one’s holding you prisoner in an ivory tower. So, here’s what we’ll do. You and I will have a civilized talk about everything that happened last night. Then, if you’re still determined to get out of this marriage, I won’t stop you. I’m far too proud a man to hold a woman against her will.”
Jess’s heart skipped a beat as something raw and unanticipated burned inside her. She couldn’t say whether it was relief she felt or something more akin to disappointment. Why, oh why did his admission that he was fine in letting her go resonate with something so utterly painful in her core?
Jess shook off the odd déjà vu and met his gaze, his green eyes playing the soft serenade of a Spanish guitar. Jess caught her breath, lost for a moment in their music.
“I also believe,” he said slowly, “that sometimes things happen for a reason. And often that reason is far too grand for us to originally understand.”
But Jess didn’t want to think about reasons or fate or star-crossed lovers—or any of that other nonsense Evie so ardently believed in but that she’d never been able to wrap her own head around. Jess was a practical person who saw the world for what it was. The fact that she’d long ago stopped believing in fairy tales had only worked to her benefit.
“The only thing I need to understand,” she said, “is why you persist in saying this…accident of nature…was somehow preordained. “
He massaged his temples, apparently growing exasperated. “I already said I’ll explain everything.”
“Good,” she said, stepping past him. “At last, you’re talking sensibly.”
Jess hurried down the stairs, desperate to get away. He smelled of sandalwood soap and lime, and the aroma awakened her memory of his showering kisses last night. The sooner she got herself out of this mistake of an arrangement, the better. And it better be before nightfall, lest she find herself tempted to leap back into that manly matador’s bed.
“I’ve never been accused of being unreasonable,” he said, trailing after her. “But I am known for keeping my commitments.”
Jess halted in her tracks, fearing this was going somewhere. Somewhere that was going to land dangerously close to further confounding her emotions.
He captured her in his gaze, stilling her heart for a fraction of a second. Somehow, when he looked at her, it was as if he could see into her depths and behold her every weakness. And yet, his gaze soothed her, smoothing old hurts in tender ways. Warmth surged in her cheeks as he descended the steps two at a time, then gently cupped her face in his hands.
“And I always honor my commitments,” he said, his voice a husky rasp.
Her pulse beat wildly, and for a second, she feared he would kiss her. Next, she was terribly afraid he might not.
“Most especially,” he continued with an enigmatic smile, “to my mother.”
****
Chapter Two
Jess couldn’t believe she was having lunch with Fernando’s mother. Everything was totally out of control. Señora Garcia de la Vega took a slow sip of wine, surveying the American seated before her. “Tell me again, dear,” she asked, the sweetness of her tone slightly acerbic, “how is it that you know my Fernando?”
Fernando dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then set the cloth aside. “We met in Madrid. I explained the whole thing to you this morning.”
“Perhaps,” his mother said with a tilt of her chin. “But I’d like to hear the story from the young lady herself.”
That would be great, if only Jess could recall the tale she was supposed to tell. She had no clue what Fernando had said to his mother earlier. All she knew was that Fernando had asked her to “play along with things at lunch.” He promised her an Internet connection later, along with a cell signal in range so she could call Evie. Boy, would Evie have a field day with this. She was forever on Jess’s case for being too stringent and unerring. Eve was the carefree one who made mistakes. Now, here Jess sat in the middle of some matador’s ranch—and the global communications magnate didn’t even have Wi-Fi! Things were positively prehistoric in La Esperanza del Corazón, and Jess had the feeling she was dining with a carnivore.
Mrs. Garcia de la Vega’s deep brown eyes settled on hers as she carefully spooned cold gazpacho soup to her lips. Fernando’s mother had to be in her late fifties but was beautiful still, fine wisps of gray just making themselves visible in her coiled-up hair.
Fernando reached across the table and squeezed Jess’s hand, lending encouragement. “Just tell her how we met, querida. All the business deals and such.” He lifted her hand to give the back of it a firm kiss, and Jess’s resolve wilted. She was not seriously interested in Fernando in the least. They had chemistry—nothing more. And she resented the trappings of this little charade confusing her.
Jess withdrew her hand from his grip and massaged it with the one in her lap. “Yes, that’s right,” she politely told Mrs. Garcia de la Vega. “It was business. All business. Strictly business from the start.” She shot Fernando a stern look to remind him their business here was nearly done.
“And your business is…?” the older woman prompted.
“Telecommunications, just like mine,” Fernando interjected.
“The young woman speaks just fine for herself,” his mother quipped, annoyed.
Jess uncrossed her legs under the table and sat up a little straighter in her chair. “The name of my firm is Global Financial Telecom. We’re headquartered in New York, and I’m in charge of international acquisitions.”
“Like my son, for example,” Señora Garcia de la Vega said flatly.
A breeze ruffled across the tabletop, sending the fresh-flower centerpiece fluttering. While Jess normally loved dining outdoors, the chill hovering above them on this balmy afternoon was unmistakable.
“I came here on an acquisitions merger, it’s true. Involving your son’s company, Señora Garcia de la Vega. Fernando knew about… What I mean is, this was all arranged in advance. There were no surprises.”
“Except for one,” Fernando added with a wink.
A tension in her gut told her she was about to get broadsided. “Which one was that?”
“Why, you know, my love. That little unexpected package.”
Jess felt the blood drain from her face. “Package?”
“Special delivery, mi amor. Our bundle of joy.” Fernando scooted his chair against hers so he could drape his arm around her shoulder. “Mamá,” he said, addressing his mother sincerely. “Jessica and I have known each other for months now. I’ve come to respect her not just as a business colleague but as a woman as well. A beautiful, sensuous woman that any man would be proud to call his—”
“Is there a restroom downstairs?” Jess asked, abruptly pushing back from the table and breaking Fernando’s embrace. She stood unsteadily, glancing helplessly about the patio. Oddly, she felt more trapped in this beautifully arranged open space than in any cage.
“Past the kitchen,” Mrs. Garcia de la Vega stated, her quizzical gaze on her son.
Fernando shrugged at his mom as Jess stood from her chair. “It’s the baby.”
“Baby?” The joint chorus was so loud neither Jess nor Mrs. Garcia de la Vega could be sure whose shriek registered the loudest.
Jess stared at Fernando and blinked hard, her wobbling knees forcing her back in her chair. “That’s too high a telecommunications price tag,” she hissed under her breath.
“Consuelo!” Señora Garcia de la Vega cried desperately toward the house. “More water, please!”
Jess didn’t know what game Fernando was playing, but she refused to be party to it. “
Excuse me,” she said, gathering her strength and standing again. “Mrs. Garcia de la Vega, thanks for a lovely meal, but it’s time I head back to Madrid.”
“Madrid?” Fernando and his mother parroted together.
“Yes, Fernando. Madrid. That’s where I have an apartment—with an included Internet connection.”
Mrs. Garcia de la Vega set aside her empty water glass. “We have an Internet connection.”
Jess raised an accusatory eyebrow at Fernando. “Here?”
“Naturally,” his mother continued. “Premium satellite. What else would you expect?”
What else would she expect, indeed? Nothing more than Fernando’s continued conniving. The man didn’t have an honest bone in his body!
“But Jessica,” he began, pleading, “our arrangements. You and I should talk…alone.”
“I think that’s a very good idea,” his mother said grimly. “This situation sounds serious. It is not one you settle in haste.”
Fernando stood with a gallant air and took Jessica by the elbow. “This way, querida. We wouldn’t want a woman in your condition taxing her nerves.” Then he called back over his shoulder, “I’ll see to it she calms down, Mamá.”
As viciously as she could, Jess stomped her three-inch heel into Fernando’s loafer.
“Ouch!”
“Son?” Mrs. Garcia de la Vega inquired as they slipped out the door.
“It’s nothing. I just felt a sudden…twinge,” he said, leading Jess from the room.
“Of guilt, I hope,” Jess spewed under her breath.
“All right, Fernando,” Jess whispered as Consuelo whisked by them, carting a chilled bottle of water. “What precisely was going on in there?”
Fernando raked his fingers through his hair, then addressed her with a strained expression. “The truth?”
“That would be a nice start.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but not here.”
“Not here? Then where?”