by Janet Dailey
‘You certainly don’t think you’re in love with Rafael, do you?’ Forest laughed shortly in scornful disbelief.
Erica said nothing for a second before she replied slowly and with increasing sureness. ‘Yes, yes, I think I am.’
’don’t make another mistake, Erica,’ her father cautioned, but there was nothing dictatorial in his voice.
But Erica was already racing out of the house and around to the side where Rafael had parked his car. The door was open and he was about to step in when he saw her. She stopped, then hesitantly walked towards him, trying to fathom the aloof mask for some sign that she wasn’t too late. The words that would be said between them in these next few moments would determine the outcome of her future.
‘Rafael.’ His name came from her parched mouth in a croaking whisper and she wished for the courage of the matador when he faced the black bull in the ring.
‘Yes. There is something more you require?’ Impatience edged his low voice.
Erica moistened her lips nervously. ‘I don’t want a divorce, Rafael.’
If anything, his expression hardened. ‘I do not need your pity. Leave me to seek what peace I can find.’
‘I don’t pity you, Rafael,’ she insisted. ‘I pity myself for perhaps finding out too late that I really love you. I know there’s nothing I can say to make you believe me, but it’s true all the same. I do love you.’
‘You are only grateful,’ he corrected harshly, ‘grateful that I shouldered some of the blame for our stupidity and blunted your father’s anger. Do not hide your gratitude in words of love.’
‘I don’t know when I began to love you. I only know I realised it a few moments ago when you walked out of the study and part of me went with you.’ Erica refused to give up. ‘It was as if a fog lifted and I understood why you had this strange power over me every time you touched me. Don’t you see, Rafael? I could never let myself love you before because I thought you’d married me for my money. I pretended that I let you make love to me because you were so physically attractive. Then I was terrified that I was promiscuous. Only I found out that no other man made me feel the way you do, not even Forest. When you came here and I discovered you weren’t a fortune-hunter, you backed me in a corner and demanded that the marriage become a reality. But I believed you wanted it to save your family from the shame of a divorce and so you could have children, not because you cared for me.’
His attitude remained unreachable and she clapped a hand to her mouth as a bitter laugh of discovery ripped her throat. Tears scalded her eyes and trickled from her lashes down her cheeks as she turned swiftly away from him.
‘What a fool I am!’ she exclaimed. ‘That was all just a ruse in there with my father, wasn’t it? You only said you loved me to save my pride. You never expected me to take you seriously, but I don’t care!’ she declared wildly. ‘You wanted a wife and children. Well, I’m your wife and I will give you children. But I love — ’
‘Stop it!’ Savagely Rafael grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. The iron control was gone and an inverted anger was in its place. Despite the vicious shake he gave her, the tears didn’t stop as she gazed at him with the full futility of her love in her eyes. ‘You are giving in to an impulse. You do not know what you are saying,’ he snapped.
‘And you’re too arrogant to believe me!’ she cried.
In the next instant, the arms that had so rigidly held her away crushed her against the hardness of his chest, locking her in an embrace that was exquisite punishment. Hungrily his mouth probed hers until she throbbed with a feverish ache for him. Even when he later untwined her arms from around his neck, she was blissfully aware of his reluctance.
‘I do love you, Erica, mia esposa,’ Rafael declared huskily, and the burning fire in his gaze convinced her beyond all doubt.
‘Why did you wait so long to come for me?’ she whispered, touching the face that she now had a right to caress.
‘So long?’ he laughed softly. ‘Ah, my love, when I found you were not on board the yacht, then later discovered you had checked out of the hotel, I flew to San Antonio immediately. No one could or would tell me where you were. I waited here for nearly two weeks before I received word that my father had suffered a stroke. I had to return to Mexico. Circumstances have kept me there all this time.’
‘And your father?’ Erica prompted.
Pain flickered for a moment in his eyes. ‘He died this last spring.’
‘Oh, darling, I’m sorry.’ Her lips trembled in sympathy. ‘I wish I’d been there with you.’
‘You did not love me then.’ Rafael kissed her mouth lightly so she would know he meant to inflict no pain with those words.
‘You do believe that I love you,’ Erica sighed, resting her head contentedly against his shoulder as his arms tightened around her.
‘You must tell me that tomorrow and every tomorrow after that.’ The husky command was muffled by the soft skin of her throat.
‘I promise I will,’ she whispered as she felt the melting of her bones beneath his fiery caress.
‘Every morning that I woke without you in my arms made the night that we shared so bittersweet,’ Rafael murmured. ‘Several times I have thought you were about to discover you loved me. Then I gave up hope. When you were with me, you seemed to become more unhappy and I knew I must set you free.’
‘I don’t deserve you. You were right when you said I was selfish.’ She gazed sadly into his face.
‘I hope you cannot bear to let me out of your sight,’ he vowed. ‘It has been sweet torment to be so near to you and not touch you or show you the way I cared. If you had learned Spanish before, you would have known how much I loved you on our wedding night aboard the yacht.’
‘Where is the yacht?’ asked Erica, now cherishing the memories of that night.
‘In Acapulco, waiting for you to return,’ he answered.
‘Mañana,’ she murmured the name of the yacht. ‘Let’s go there.’
‘We will spend our honeymoon on board after we fly to my home tomorrow so my family can meet you,’ he declared.
’do they know about me?’
‘Yes,’ Rafael smiled tenderly. ‘Not that you are my wife, but I have spoken of you and of my intentions to make you my wife. My pride would not let them think ill of you nor to pity me that I had lost you. We will have another small wedding at the church in the village near my home. You do not mind?’
‘No, I’d like to say our vows again. But, Rafael,’ a shy pink heightened her face as the desire to feel his touch swept over her, ‘must we wait?’
He drew in his breath sharply. ‘You are my wife.’ From his pocket, he removed the signet ring and slipped it on her finger. ‘Your friend Jules Blackwell returned it to me. I told him I loved you and would not leave until this was on your finger again.’
Biography
* * *
Janet Dailey
Janet Dailey was born Janet Haradon in 1944 in Storm Lake, Iowa. She attended secretarial school in Omaha, Nebraska before meeting her husband, Bill. Bill and Janet worked together in construction and land development until they "retired" to travel throughout the United States, inspiring Janet to write the Americana series of romances, where she set a novel in every state of the Union. In 1974, Janet Dailey was the first American author to write for Harlequin. Her first novel was NO QUARTER ASKED. She has since gone on to write approximately 90 novels, 21 of which have appeared on the New York Times Bestseller List. She has won many awards and accolades for her work, appearing widely on Radio and Television. Today, there are over three hundred million Janet Dailey books in print in 19 different languages, making her one of the most popular novelists in the world.
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