Rule's Seduction

by Lynda Chance

  No, he wasn’t going to know every thought in her head. And he wouldn’t, not any time soon, not if she could help it.

  ****

  Max was silent for several seconds as he tried to gauge the truthfulness of Erin’s words. “Why would you need a different nightgown? Or a nightgown at all?”

  “Why the million questions?” she retaliated. “What’s the big deal?”

  She didn’t get it? Had he not just told her he’d searched for her for almost two hours? “The big deal is that I thought you’d gone missing. I thought something had happened to you. I didn’t expect to find you hiding in the damn closet.”

  “I wasn’t hiding—I was asleep!”

  He focused on the circles under her eyes and the fine lines of her face, hating that she wasn’t assimilating to Argentina as quickly as he needed her to. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “You don’t look like you slept much.”

  “Well, thanks a lot for that,” she replied flatly.

  “Why did you have trouble sleeping?”

  “What do you want me to say, Max? This is all new to me. It’s not every day that I’m blackmailed into marriage.

  Son-of-a-bitch, that pissed him off—and it hurt. “Blackmailed?”

  “Whatever. Coercion, trickery, foul play.” Her eyes narrowed. “Take your pick.”

  “Spare me, please,” he said as he felt his annoyance come back and ramp up a notch. All he needed were two things. He needed her to be happy here, and he needed her to sleep next to him. That was all he needed. He wasn’t asking for a lot. With that thought, he pushed the door of her dressing room all the way ajar. He wasted no time as he began moving the chaise out of the closet.

  “Stop!” she shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  He stalled, his eyes narrowing. “What does it look like? I’m not taking the chance that you’ll go missing again.”

  She pushed off the counter and plunked down on the piece of furniture as if her weight alone would stop him. “Now that you know where I was, couldn’t you just look in my damn closet if you can’t find me? Would that be so difficult?”

  “You’re not sleeping in the closet, Erin.”

  “I’m not saying I’m going to,” she hedged. “But I like this piece of furniture—it’s lovely.”

  He immediately realized that it was unreasonable to remove the piece. She obviously found comfort in it—he’d planned it that way, after all. And, he admitted silently, to do away with it would show an insecurity that he didn’t care for. As well as a cruelty he didn’t care to inflict on her.

  As he stood watching her sitting stiff as a board, it occurred to him that maybe he could negotiate a trade. “Fine. You can keep it—if—” he allowed his voice to trail off.

  “If what?” she asked, as if on cue.

  Pacing the two steps to where she sat, he lifted her chin until her eyes were focused on him. He ran his finger down her silken cheek, the softness of her skin sending what felt like tingles through his veins. He tried to ignore the electric feeling, the sexual chemistry—he had to push his advantage now. “You can keep the piece—if you explain to me what you meant last night about a fairytale.”

  Much to his chagrin, her expression closed up, shielding whatever she was thinking from him. She bit her lip and turned away, her delicate profile in lines of strain sending a hit of alarm rushing through his bloodstream. He couldn’t fuck this up—he couldn’t. With the weight of indecision making his brainpower all but worthless, he kissed her on the forehead and left before he did or said something completely stupid.

  ****

  A few hours later, after the sleepless night she’d had, Erin was sitting in the atrium gazing out the window and trying to understand the man she’d married. There was no question that he’d been upset when she’d ‘gone missing.’

  When he’d asked about ‘the fairytale,’ she’d been struck mute as panic had caused her stomach to twist into nerves. She couldn’t let him see inside her head. He’d already taken over her body, and she wasn’t prepared to give him anything more, at least, not yet.

  As she studied the green fields without really seeing much of anything, she heard the low timbre of Max’s voice as he approached from the hallway. It was a deep rumble with intermittent pauses between words as he came closer to the room where she sat.

  She sank down into the couch, not trying to hide exactly, just not prepared to face him yet. Looking into the gilded mirror that hung on the wall, she had a clear view as he paused in the entryway behind her.

  A cell phone was glued to his ear as his words became audible to her. Yes, I want the program expanded. I want every child in the province to have the chance for university. As he paused to listen, Erin watched as his gaze slid around the room and there was little doubt in her mind that he was looking for her.

  The next second, their glances connected in the mirror. His dark eyes narrowed as he studied her, even as he continued to speak into the phone. Find more tutors—I’ll make available whatever funding is needed. Understand this, though—it must be impressed upon the kids from an early age that education is mandatory. I want to see an uptick in university enrollment and I want to see it by next semester.

  His voice trailed off again as he listened to the other end of the conversation. As he held the phone to his ear, his eyes left hers and slowly ran down the length of her body before connecting with hers again. He briefly cocked one mocking eyebrow before turning away and walking from the room, all while continuing his telephone conversation.

  The brief interplay left her more shaken than before. There was no question that he’d been looking for her—not to speak to her, simply to check up on her. It was as if he needed to know her location—but why, exactly? Because he’d been unable to find her for a few hours earlier in the day?

  She was still pondering the situation some moments later when Marisol walked into the room with a tray of fruit and cheese.

  “Are you trying to make me fat?” Erin asked, only half-jokingly. The woman was constantly appearing with food.

  The housekeeper laughed. “Señor Maximo has requested that we take care of you—so we take care of you, yes?”

  What Senor Maximo wanted, Senor Maximo got; that seemed to be the rule of his land. “Gracias, Marisol.” As the other woman smiled and began to turn away, Erin rushed to ask, “Do you happen to know about Max’s involvement with advanced education for the children?”

  The woman paused only a moment before answering, “Si. It is of much concern to him. The children of the gauchos, they tend to follow in their parents’ footsteps and that is not such a bad thing—but Señor Max—he wants them to have an opportunity for more. He wants that they should finish school so they can apply to university instead of dropping out. But this is not always easy, not with family obligations and the work that must be done in the fields. I don’t know all about it, but I know he loves the children and it is like a vocación for him, you see?”

  “Yes, I see. Thank you, Marisol.” As the housekeeper dipped her head and walked from the room, Erin was left with even more conflicted emotions than before. Max loved children? The new knowledge made a sweet, tempting ache form in her stomach. Who knew?

  ****

  Max took to looking for her during the day, at least twice that Erin was aware of. She was usually in one of three places—on the balcony of their suite, in the atrium, or in ‘her’ sitting room. All he ever did was glance around, locate her, and then turn and leave just as silently as he’d come upon her.

  On one particular day, she’d been about to go crazy with her thoughts, so to escape them, she went to find Marisol in the kitchen. Cook had taken the afternoon off, going to visit her daughter and grandchildren. That left Erin alone with Marisol, and some time later, they were laughing and talking, Erin’s hands covered in dough.

  Marisol was happily humming, although she obviously couldn’t find everything she was looking for. As one cabinet slammed after the next, and the housek
eeper’s frustration became apparent, Erin asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “No, but I still don’t know where Cook has put everything. I don’t understand why Senor Maximo renovated a perfectly good kitchen!”

  Erin looked around the room—the kitchen was undoubtedly gorgeous—truly, the kitchen of her dreams. She was about to comment on it when, from a long way off, she heard the sound of Max’s steps as they became more rapid. She knew he was searching for her—the kitchen wasn’t one of her usual retreats. She could almost see him in her mind as he checked her normal places one by one.

  “Marisol—” she heard him shout, some moments later.

  “Yes, señor?” the housekeeper turned to ask as he appeared in the doorway.

  Erin turned to look as well, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face because her hands were sticky.

  His eyes met hers and all at once, the tension seemed to recede from his body. The expression on his face almost shattered her—it looked a lot like relief.

  “Señor?” Marisol prompted.

  Max snapped his gaze away from her to look at the housekeeper. “Never mind,” he said as he turned and strode away.

  ****

  A week later, Erin was trying to relax in ‘her’ sitting room, gazing out the window, her emotions in turmoil.

  The clothes and accessories had come on the fifth day after her arrival. Boxes and boxes had been unloaded from the delivery truck and carried up to their suite and into her dressing room. She’d opened them one by one, amazed that Max had, once again, seemed to peg her tastes so perfectly. Clothes of all kinds, too many for her to wear if she wore something different for a year—all suiting her tastes and size perfectly. There was make-up as well. Lotions, toiletries, all in brands and scents that she preferred. It was freaking uncanny.

  It didn’t make sense—none of it did. Yes, the week had been … strange. Max was acting—well, Max was Max and she really couldn’t even begin to analyze how his brain worked. One minute he would stare at her, harsh and exacting, the next moment his features would turn molten—as if he couldn’t wait to strip her naked.

  And strip her naked, he did. Every night. And every night, the sexual experience was so intense that she felt all manner of emotions. She wanted to laugh out loud at the sheer joy of being in his arms, but the next minute she wanted to cry—and damn her sorry, silly hide if she hadn’t done that very thing not once, but twice. Twice in a matter of a week she’d allowed Max to see her cry. And she never normally cried, not really. It was the fact that he screwed her up so badly; he’d rise above her on the bed and take her with a dominating strength that made the breath catch in her throat. And when it was over, he’d apologize for being too rough—as if!—and then he’d hold her so gently and tenderly, but always, with at least one arm locked around her as if he’d never let her leave his side.

  Thinking about it now, she sighed in confusion. She heard Marisol softly clear her throat, breaking the spell she was under. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” Erin smiled at the woman, “How are you today?”

  The housekeeper returned her smile pleasantly and said, “Very well, gracias. Nora Navarro is outside. She wants to know if you’ll join her?”

  A bolt of pleasure chased through Erin at the thought of making a friend in Argentina. “Bring her inside, will you?”

  “I tried, but she says her boots are too muddy. I told her that was nonsense but she won’t budge.”

  Erin came to her feet and within moments stood on the front drive as the other girl sat behind the steering wheel of an ATV, watching her approach.

  “Good morning. You could have come in!” Erin invited.

  The other girl laughed. “No way.” She lifted one booted foot to display what appeared to be wet, caked-on mud. “Can you come play with me?” the girl asked in jest.

  Nora’s playful antics pleased Erin. “Sounds great. I totally need to get away from the house for a while, but I don’t have any boots—will I need them?”

  “Tennis shoes will be fine.”

  Five minutes later, after Erin changed shoes and grabbed her cell phone, the girls took off.

  “Max won’t want me to go far—”

  The girl made a scoffing noise. “Max won’t want you to go fifty feet—too damn bad, though. Men are ridiculous. Freakin’ Rafael tries to hold me under his thumb as well, and we’re not even married. He’s going to go insane when he figures out I left on my own.”

  Not even married? It seemed an odd way to describe their relationship or lack of one, but Erin stored the question away for later.

  As they passed the stables and continued down a dirt path, Erin casually waved to three ranch managers fully expecting them to try to stop her from leaving the immediate area. But thankfully, they only opened the gate as they tipped their hats respectfully, even though they seemed to watch her with sharp eyes. Having made it past them, Erin relaxed a bit and decided it couldn’t hurt to question Nora. “That seems kind of strange that you’d mention marriage at all—Rafael’s your family, right?”

  Nora braked coming down a large embankment and turned to study her. “I’m a straggler—a poor family relation who has zero Navarro sangre running through my veins.” She glanced over at Erin in question. “You don’t know my story, do you?”

  “No,” Erin answered as curiosity lanced through her. “But I love your accent—it’s so unique.”

  Nora smiled as she pulled the ATV under a lone tree casting the only shadow within sight. She put the vehicle in park and let it idle. “I went to college in California. I also went to boarding school, both in the US and in Switzerland for a time—I guess my speech reflects that?”

  “I guess that’s it, and it reflects beautifully,” Erin said, trying to put the girl at ease by not asking too many questions too soon.

  “Thanks,” Nora replied absently as she swiveled to face her now that they were parked. The look she gave Erin was conflicted. “So, I guess you want to know my story? I know that I want to tell you—I want to compare notes.”

  Notes? “Okay,” she said hesitantly, somehow knowing the girl was about to impart something meaningful that she felt Erin needed to know.

  Erin sat still while Nora fidgeted a bit, as if not knowing where to begin. It was obvious that the girl needed a friend, which was just as well because Erin desperately needed one herself right about now. Reaching over, she squeezed Nora’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. The younger woman smiled back and slowly began. “My birth mother died when I was a toddler—I don’t remember her. My father was an American and I never met him—he had no interest in me. He already had a family in the States when my mother fell pregnant.” Her tone was gentle as she watched Erin, and suddenly a knot formed in Erin’s stomach as she waited for more.

  Nora continued slowly, “My mother’s Will left me to the Navarros. Tía Magdalena—Rafael’s mother—was my mother’s best friend.” Erin remained silent as she absorbed the information as Nora continued to gently study her. “I’m about to say something that I think will shock you. I know it’s going to upset you, but I need to tell you because I want you in my life.” She reached over and grasped Erin’s hands in her own.

  Erin physically and mentally braced herself. She liked Nora, but she prepared herself anyway, knowing instinctively that whatever she was about to learn wouldn’t be all good. “Go ahead.”

  “Erin—you and I are sisters.”

  A cold chill ran down Erin’s spine. Sisters? As much as she’d like to have this girl for a sister—there was no way she believed it could be true. She continued to grasp the other girl’s hand, not rejecting her—but rejecting whatever truth the girl seemed to believe. “There’s no way that can be true,” she stated emphatically.

  “It’s true,” Nora said gently.

  “You’re saying that my father is your father?” Erin studied the girl’s dramatic coloring, so like her own, but dismissing the similarities as coincidental.

>   “Yes.”

  “Nora, that can’t be,” Erin replied as gently as possible. And it couldn’t be, right? There was no damn way. It was true that Erin’s father hadn’t been good with money, but as a family man? There had been none better. He never would have strayed from his marriage vows. Her father’s love for her mother had been all consuming. Erin knew that as surely as she knew her own name. “My dad loved my mom. If you’d seen them together, you would know. He never would have cheated on her. You’re confused somewhere. You’ve got your facts messed up.”

  Nora’s look turned sympathetic, as if Erin were the one who had it wrong. “My father’s name was Gordon Rule and he was from St. Louis, Missouri.”

  Recognizing the unwavering certainty in the other girl’s voice, Erin felt the first splinter of real doubt, a pang of pain hitting her sharply in her chest. But then, almost immediately, she realized Nora’s father could have been a Gordon Rule—her paternal grandfather. Could the age range make that a possibility? Her grandparents had been married young, and her father had been born when her grandfather was, like what, about twenty? So, it was possible. Her grandparents had never had a good marriage and the family had long suspected that there had been infidelity involved, but they were both gone now and any secrets had been buried along with them.

  She briefly explained her thoughts to Nora and watched as a cloud of doubt registered on the younger girl’s face.

  “Are you sure? Your grandfather?” Nora asked.

  Erin nodded her head as she thought about it further. “My father wouldn’t have cheated—but my grandfather? Unfortunately, yeah, I can see that happening.”

  “If that’s the way it was, it would make me your aunt, right?”

  Erin’s lips transformed into a whisper of a smile at the incongruity of the situation. “Yeah. This is still too incredible for me to believe. Are you okay if I ask my mom about it? She might know at least some of it. My parents were very close, and I’m sure if my dad had known about it, then he would have told my mother.”