by Robin Gianna
In a sudden, swift scoop he lifted her against his chest, her breasts being teased this time by the soft rasp of his chest hair as he pressed her against him. He moved to the bed, pulled back the quilt and laid her on the cool sheets, quickly following to lie on her, kiss her and touch her. The heavy weight of him felt so good, so right, and when he slid his fingers down to caress her she gasped into his mouth. He responded with sweet-sounding Spanish words, repeating them over and over as he pushed her thighs farther apart, touching, teasing, until she couldn’t bear it any longer.
“I need you inside me now,” she gasped.
“I’m here to give you whatever you want, my beautiful one,” he whispered. “Always.” He rose up to slowly fill her, and her legs wrapped around his back to pull him as close as two people could possibly be.
“Mateo. Mateo. I feel so... It’s so...” She found she couldn’t say anything more, just moaned at the bliss building inside her as he moved, deep and slow and unbearably delicious.
“I know, querida,” he said, his gaze locked passionately with hers. “For me, too.”
They moved together in a perfect rhythm that built, grew faster and faster until she couldn’t hold back the intense pleasure any longer. She cried out as she came, feeling Mateo follow her with a deep groan of his own, until they lay gasping against one another, unable to move.
Long minutes later Mateo lifted his head. The dark eyes staring into hers seemed to hold a deep seriousness, but at the same time a small smile curved his lips. “Miranda Davenport, I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
“Finally!” His smile widened. “Hearing you say it back shows me you finally believe I love you. Took you long enough.”
Her heart squeezed with an overflowing bubble of happiness. Until something sharply stabbed to deflate that joy.
Disquiet.
Did she believe him? She wanted to. So much. Yet a niggling doubt told her again that it seemed sudden. Too sudden. Right on the heels of the stress of the whole visit, of time spent in the orchards and seeing the horses, of his dad getting ill, of arguing with his mother. Of coping with his brother’s death. Of dealing with his obviously deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy when it came to his place in the family.
Spending time together in Catalonia and on the estate had been a pleasant distraction from the weight of all that. Great sex was the perfect way to ease pain, she knew. Was he confusing all those feelings with love?
God, she just didn’t know. The chemistry between them from the very beginning, the feelings they’d seemed to share at the dance, wasn’t necessarily love on his part. Maybe it was simple chemistry. Lust.
Except surely a man like Mateo knew the difference between lust and love. Much as she wanted to believe with all her heart that he really did love her, she had to question it. Had to wonder.
Did he truly believe it himself?
* * *
Mateo held tight to Miranda’s gloved hand as they navigated the crowded sidewalks on their way to his apartment. They’d enjoyed another dinner together, talking and laughing and learning about one another, and every hour he spent with her, the more he appreciated her. Her pretty face and beautiful smile, her inquisitive mind, her insight into so many things he didn’t usually bother to spend much time thinking about.
He hated that they both had to go back to work the next day, since their vacation time had been far less than satisfying. Had hardly counted as a vacation at all, with all the stress of faking their engagement and dealing with his parents.
She’d protested that he should think about it longer, but he was more than glad they’d left early the next morning. Once they’d arrived back home, they’d spent their last days off going to a few museums he hadn’t taken the time to go to recently, to a show, even ice skating at the Rockefeller Center. Laughing as they both fell a few times, enjoying the beauty and magic of Christmastime in New York City.
And making love. Making love with Miranda was like nothing he’d experienced before, probably because he’d never really loved a woman before. How incredible that this woman he’d planned to spend only one week with had sneaked into his heart so completely. Turning upside down his conviction that he never wanted to be committed to one woman, because he knew without a doubt that he wanted to spend his life with her.
He smiled down at her, tugging her away from a gaggle of laughing teenagers dancing along the sidewalk. New York City was always busier this time of year as tourists came to do Christmas shopping or stay for the week to watch the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree be erected, then lit, in all its spectacular glory.
“Oh, my gosh, I haven’t told you yet!” Miranda exclaimed, as she hung onto his arm. “Grace wants me to be a bridesmaid at her and Charles’s wedding. I guess we’ll be going dress shopping soon.”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy that. Is there a woman alive who doesn’t like shopping?”
“Probably one or two, but I’m not one of them.” She grinned up at him. “Do you have any Christmas shopping you want to do while you’re still on vacation? It’s still early—we have time to look in a few stores.”
He looked down at her rosy cheeks and the cute knit hat she had pulled over her soft hair, and realized that Christmas shopping had been off his to-do list for so long, he hadn’t even thought about it. He definitely needed to come up with something to give this special woman to show how much she’d brought to his life.
“The only Christmas shopping I need to do is for you, and since I can’t do that with you peeking, the answer is no.”
“You don’t have to get anything for me. I’m still wearing the amazing ring I was supposed to give back to you at the end of this week.”
“Except that’s changed now. An engagement ring given to my beautiful bride before Christmas can’t qualify as a Christmas gift, too.”
The eyes lifting to his looked like maybe they were smiling and worried at the same time. “I... Don’t you ever buy gifts for your parents?”
His gut tightened, not wanting to think about his parents and their disappointment in him and their nastiness to Miranda. Glad to be far away from that disaster. “Not unless I’m there with them at Christmas, which hasn’t happened in a long time. They don’t expect me to ship anything from here.”
“Do they send you gifts?”
“Usually a basket of fruits and candies that I take to the hospital for the nursing staff or share with other medics. I’ve told them not to bother, but I guess parents never stop thinking about what their offspring are eating. Or they feel required to make the gesture.” He looked down at her again, wondering why she was frowning. “Why?”
“Because I can’t help but feel bothered by this...situation. I mean, we’re engaged for real now, but you don’t seem to want them involved in any way. You haven’t called once since we’ve been back. And now you tell me you don’t bother with Christmas gifts. I’m betting not even a card.”
“All true. And your point?”
“It’s not good. I mean, for better or worse, they’re your parents and they love you. I know deep inside you love them too. You can’t just shut them out.”
“Watch me.” He shoved down the uneasy feeling in his chest, the tiny nagging voice that told him Miranda was right. That he shouldn’t completely shut out the two people who’d given him life, especially now, when their lives had become so difficult. But both had made unreasonable demands on him. Refused to accept beautiful and special Miranda as his future wife, and if he had to choose her over his parents, he absolutely would.
Miranda opened her mouth then shut it again, obviously deciding not to pursue it. Which he was more than happy about. Talking wasn’t going to change a thing, other than to make his stomach hurt and make Miranda worry about it. He’d made his decision about his future, and was more than happy with that.
“Come in here.” Miranda took an abrupt left toward a shop doorway, dragging Mateo with her.
He looked around and saw they’d entered a jewelry store. “You have some jewelry you’d like to show me that I can choose from for you for Christmas? A bit of a surprise, but not completely a surprise?” He dropped a kiss to her temple, let it linger there. “I like that idea.”
“Not for me. For your mother.”
“My mother?” What was she talking about? “First, I haven’t given my mother jewelry since I bought her some gaudy fake gold and diamond pin when I was about nine years old. And didn’t I just tell you I don’t buy her gifts at all? Especially now, considering how upset she is with me.”
“All the more reason to buy her something, as a peace offering. A...a really nice bracelet that she could wear and think of you every time she does.”
“Miranda.” He held her face in his hands, trying to understand why she was so concerned about his relationship with his parents when he wasn’t. After all, he’d been more or less estranged from them for years, and this was nothing new. “You need to stop worrying about this. I don’t think she needs or wants anything to remind her of me. Especially when every time she thinks of me she concentrates on all the ways I disappoint them. Let’s forget all that and enjoy our last night together before work gets hectic again, hmm?”
He read the hesitation in her eyes, then sighed in relief when she finally smiled and took his hand. “All right. I have to be at the hospital early, so what should we do that won’t keep us out late? Enjoy a sweet dessert somewhere?”
“There’s one thing I can think of that I’d like to do that won’t keep us out late but might keep us up late, and would taste very, very sweet,” he said in her ear, glad to be moving to a conversation that involved being alone and kissing and making love. “How about we go to my apartment, and I’ll show you what I have?”
“I can’t imagine what that would be,” she said in faux, wide-eyed innocence. “Did you bake a cake? Buy ice cream?”
He had to laugh, tugging her close and dropping a kiss on her luscious mouth. How had he gotten so lucky as to have the fates throw him and Miranda together in such a surprising way? To meet a woman who was smart and sweet and fun as well, making him feel things, want things he’d never known were missing from his life?
“I think you already know what my very favorite sweet dessert is, and I can’t wait to enjoy it all night long.”
* * *
Miranda grabbed her phone to silence the alarm so as to not awaken the man whose warm, masculine and delicious-feeling body was half-draped over hers. Very gently, she moved his heavy arm from her waist and twisted to look at him. At his chiseled jaw and sensually shaped mouth that had kissed every inch of her body last night. At the dark lashes fanning his cheeks, looking almost boyish in a relaxed sleep. Far different from the fire and passion he’d shown her throughout the night as they’d made love in a way she’d never dreamed possible. In a way that had scorched her body at the same time it reached deeply and tenderly all the way inside her soul.
It was beyond wonderful at the same time it felt awful. She just couldn’t feel truly good about it. Good in a way that told her without a doubt that she was doing the right thing by holding him close and marrying him. Distancing him, both physically and emotionally, from his family. Without their engagement, he might well have stayed in Spain longer. Probably would have. He’d have been there for his father, and maybe even have had honest conversations with his mother that would have brought them closer.
All of them were still grieving Emilio’s death, and she knew well that people didn’t always think rationally during times of extreme stress and pain and worry. Nearly going off the deep end after her mother had died had shown her that first-hand, but at the time she hadn’t even realized she couldn’t think straight for a long time.
She reached to tenderly stroke her fingertip across his strong cheekbone, and a sad smile touched her lips as his face twitched in response. Marrying him after such a short time, in the midst of a true-life crisis for him and for his parents, would be wrong. She’d been responsible for ripping a hole in the fabric of the Davenports’ lives thirteen years ago, and couldn’t allow herself to do that to another family.
Stepping away was the only fair and right thing to do, no matter how much she loved him. Losing his brother and facing responsibilities he wasn’t sure he wanted meant that Mateo wasn’t in a good place emotionally to make a big, life-changing decision.
No, she had to let Mateo think longer about what he should do. Allowing his family to work together to heal wouldn’t happen if she was permanently bound to the man. He’d been so convinced for so long that he never wanted to get married, it seemed impossible that he’d completely changed his mind in one week, much as she’d wanted to believe he could.
If it was meant to be, perhaps someday in the future they’d be together again. But for now, leaving him to figure out what he really wanted, when grief and anger and feelings of inadequacy were clouding his judgement, was her only choice. To know for certain if he really loved her, or if being with her had simply been temporary pain relief.
A lump formed in her throat as she oh-so-gently touched her lips to his forehead. Why did love have to hurt so much? The effort it took to somehow force herself to slip from the bed felt nearly impossible. To dress for work and leave a note for Mateo, explaining why it had to be over between them, at least for now, hoping he’d understand. Hoping he’d be able to look inside his heart and mind more clearly with her gone.
Clicking the door quietly behind her, she crept away with dawn rising between the tall buildings of New York City. The wind that bit her skin and whipped her hair felt colder than it had yesterday. Her chest felt like someone had kicked all the air out of it, knowing that Mateo’s arm wouldn’t be holding her close, to make her feel safe, to make her feel appreciated, to make her feel loved.
Head down against the wind fighting her progress, she made herself keep going. Hoping that letting him go would truly help him find his way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
FOR AT LEAST the tenth time, Mateo read the note Miranda had left him, and it didn’t make any more sense now than it had the first time he’d read it.
Miranda was the most giving, loving, astute woman he’d ever met. A woman anyone could rely on to be honest and trustworthy. A woman who would always be there to help anyone who needed it.
Which meant this staggering news, her breaking off their engagement, breaking off any kind of relationship with him, was clearly all his fault, not hers.
And yet he couldn’t figure out how she could be so sure that he only thought he loved her because of the stress he’d been under. That it was all a reaction to his brother dying, to his life changing in ways he wasn’t comfortable with. That she was a passing thing to him.
Hadn’t he shown her in so many ways how much he loved her? Couldn’t she see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch, sense it when they made love?
He crumpled the note in his hand and set it next to the ring she’d left on the table. Yeah, maybe he did have to deal with his grief and guilt, his parents’ pain and the situation back home before he could begin to think about another big life change. But they could have stayed together, without setting a date for a wedding yet, right? Spent time learning about one another, loving one another?
But instead she was gone. And he was left trying to cope with the ache in his chest she’d left behind.
He dragged his hand through his hair, forcing himself to face the truth. His insistence that they make their engagement real had come too fast. He saw that now. He’d exposed her to the stress and upheaval back at home and given her a glimpse of the same upheaval he felt in his heart and mind and gut. So, of course, she couldn’t believe he really loved her. Wanted her in his life forever. Hadn’t he spen
t half their time together telling her why he never wanted to get married?
Damn it.
He wanted to run after her, somehow convince her that his love for her was real, and not a reaction to everything else going on in his life. But maybe the truth was that Miranda deserved better than him, which he’d thought all along. A man who had the kind of stable family life she craved, that she wanted for herself, that she’d never fully had. God knew, he wasn’t that man, the way he’d let his brother down. With his relationship with his parents a complete wreck.
Maybe his attitude about his parents, his avoiding the grief and guilt he felt from Emilio being gone, really was selfish. Maybe he’d been being selfish with Miranda, too.
Not going after her to try to convince her they should be together made his heart feel like a huge hunk of it was being chopped off. She made him feel whole in a way he’d never felt in his life. But would that be what was best for her?
It was time to face the hard truth that it damn well wasn’t.
Hadn’t she been learning to be the kind of person she wanted to be? A person who knew her self-worth wasn’t tied to her past or her relationship with Vanessa Davenport? She was teaching him that he needed to fix himself first, just like she was doing.
He couldn’t give her damaged goods, which was what he was right now. He had to let her go.
He sat quietly, his heart aching as he absorbed the pain of that reality. He’d thought having to live at the Castillo de Adelaide Fernanda would have changed his life in a bad way. After having Miranda in his life for just the briefest time, he knew with certainty his life really had completely changed. Without her in it, he’d have a hole in his world that only she could fill.
* * *
The end of a twelve-hour shift always left Miranda exhausted, but today she felt more jittery than tired. All week she’d worked extra hours, trying to keep busy so she had less time to think about Mateo. To wonder what he was doing. If he’d talked with his parents. If he’d thought more about her suggestion to go back home for a while to think things through.