- Home
- Rebecca Winters
For Better, For Worse Page 7
For Better, For Worse Read online
Page 7
“I want you, mi esposa,” he confessed in a husky voice. “I’ve been a fool to deny us what we’ve both wanted since I woke up in that hospital room.” He began devouring her mouth over and over again.
Through her euphoria, reason asserted itself long enough for Kit to break their kiss and cup his face in her hands. “I’ve wanted you much longer than that, Rafe. I’ve been in love with you for months. I can’t even remember a time when I wasn’t,” she whispered against his lips. “Are you saying you’re in love with me now? That we’ll leave here after the fair, together, and make a new life someplace else?”
Twining his fingers through hers, he removed her hands from his face and pressed them against the pillow above her head. “For tonight let’s forget everything except what we feel when we’re together like this. Por Dios, how beautiful you are. I never knew pajamas could be so enticing.” He unfastened one button and pushed the thin fabric aside to kiss her shoulder.
He still hadn’t answered her question. Because he couldn’t.
“What we’re doing is wrong if you don’t love me, if you don’t want me in your life forever,” she cried out even as her body clamored for fulfillment. He was delighting her with his kisses, plying his magic as only Rafe could.
“I know I want this,” he murmured, biting her earlobe with gentle insistence, “and I can’t think beyond this moment. No more talk, amorada. Tonight we will forget the world and create our own.”
Before she lost all reason, Kit took advantage of his weakness and slid out from under him. In an instant, she was on her feet, albeit unsteadily. She heard his groan and then a muffled curse as he struggled to a sitting position.
Afraid to trust herself alone with him any longer, she ran from his apartment. She could hear him calling her all the way to one of the guest rooms in the other wing of the hacienda.
This was how it always ended. With her running away and his pleading for her to come back. Kit feared it was the story of their lives, and for the first time since the accident, she felt a sense of real fear that they weren’t destined to be together. He planned to leave the estate after the fair; he’d made no mention of taking her with him.
A numbing coldness crept through her body as she locked the door and climbed into one of the twin beds. She couldn’t imagine ever being warm again, not when her heart felt as if it had turned to shards of ice.
The night brought no relief. After a fitful sleep, she got up at dawn and crept back to Rafe’s apartment to get a change of clothes.
He lay sprawled across the bed on his stomach, his breathing heavy, the covers on the floor. She found no solace in the fact that he, too, had spent a restless night before succumbing to sleep. Kit tried not to disturb him as she gathered the necessary clothes, then slipped quietly out of the room.
Returning to the guest room where she intended to sleep from now on, she pulled on khaki cotton pants and a plain white T-shirt. A few minutes later she hurried out the front doors of the hacienda and started down the drive with no particular destination. All she knew was that she had to keep walking, keep moving, to work off the raw tension punishing her body. Now that it was May, early morning was the best time for a walk, before the sun grew too hot.
She wasn’t aware of time passing, but the sun was much higher in the sky when she drew abreast of the estate chapel. An aura of tranquillity seemed to beckon her, and on impulse she walked over to the building, wondering if it was open. To her surprise the heavy carved wooden doors gave easily at her tentative push. She stepped inside.
After the brilliance of the sun, it took several minutes for her eyes to become accustomed to the semidark interior. A warm, almost musty smell pervaded the place. And there was another scent, not an unpleasant one—perhaps incense and the tinge of sweet smoke given off by the burning candles near the altar. Someone had been here earlier.
The chapel was small, yet it was inordinately beautiful. Kit sank down on the nearest pew to absorb the beauty of the paintings on the walls and the ceiling and to pray for direction.
“Kit? I knew it had to be you,” a familiar male voice murmured behind her shoulder.
She jumped to her feet and whirled around. “Jaime!” He looked like a shorter, gentler version of Rafe. He was the same Jaime, but Kit immediately noticed some subtle changes in him. His dark, attractive face was more lined and he’d lost a little weight. “I—I’m sorry if I’m intruding.”
“How could you do that?” His mouth broke into the familiar engaging smile. “I was driving to another part of the property when I saw you, so I decided to follow you inside.”
Kit felt her eyes smart with tears. “Jaime—”
“No.” He held up his hands. “You don’t need to explain anything. Or apologize. My brother has done enough of that since I returned.” On a deep sigh, he said, “In the past couple of months I’ve had time to reflect. And drink,” he confessed with another quick smile. “But drunk or sober, I came to the conclusion that neither one of you meant to hurt me.”
Kit tried again to speak, but he shook his head. “Let me finish while I still have the courage. When you ran away, my brother was demented. Never in my life had I seen him out of control. Never had I seen him so desolate. That’s when I realized you were everything to him, his very heart and soul.
“At first I admit I was angry and hurt. But in time, I realized how much you had come to care for me. Otherwise you would never have left my brother as you did to spare my feelings. Looking at you now, I can see you’ve been as inconsolable without him as he has been without you.”
Kit’s shoulders started to shake and the tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. “I love you in my own way, Jaime.”
“I know. And I love you. And we both love Rafael.”
“Yes.”
After a long pause he said, “Mother tells me he may never completely recover his memory. No matter what happens, don’t let him go, Kit. Don’t ever run away again. Without you, he will be nothing.”
“He doesn’t love me, Jaime.” Her voice caught painfully. “He doesn’t remember.”
“I don’t believe that,” Jaime insisted. “When Luis told him you’d flown to Seville with Diego, his face lost all color. The next thing we knew, he’d left the house and I could hear his car in the courtyard. He drove out of here like a maniac. Isn’t that how you Americans say it?”
“Yes.” Kit smiled through the tears.
“Kit, whatever our father did to me and Rafael, he’s gone now. If we let his actions stand between us, then he has won. This is what I have told my mother and my brother.” In a silent move, Jaime grasped Kit’s hands and kissed them. “Help him, Kit. Help him understand that what went on in the past doesn’t matter anymore.”
Her heart full, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him for a long, long time. “You’re wonderful, Jaime. I’m so sorry it wasn’t you.”
“No, you’re not,” he murmured into her hair. “And oddly enough, I’m not, either. Somewhere out there is a woman who’ll love me the way you love my brother. And I intend to find her.”
Kit pulled away, sniffing and wiping her eyes. “Every unmarried woman in Andalusia would like the opportunity, believe me.”
“You think so?” He grinned. “My mother says the same thing.”
“She’s right, you know.”
“Well, I have the rest of my life to find out. Now, before I get to work salvaging the family fortune, why don’t I drive you back to the house? Something tells me Rafael will be looking for you—and bellowing loud enough to disturb the entire household.”
Chapter Ten
AFTER THANKING Jaime for the ride and his comforting words, Kit hurried inside the house. She almost collided with Dona Gabriella who met her at the front door and immediately seized her hands. That in itself was unexpected, but one look at the older woman’s face, and Kit knew something was wrong. “What is it, señora?”
“Have you seen Rafael?”
Kit’s heart began
to race. “No. While I was out walking, I stopped to visit the chapel and Jaime found me there. We—made our peace.” The older woman crossed herself in gratitude, then grasped Kit’s face and kissed her on either cheek. “He brought me back before going to work, but we didn’t see Rafe. How long has he been gone?”
“A half hour. When my son appeared for breakfast and discovered the two of you missing, he went off in his car and has never come back. I’m frightened.”
The despair in her voice reached Kit’s heart, and she put her arm around the woman whose emotions at this point were as ragged and fragile as her own. “Rafe gave his word he wouldn’t leave until after the fair. He’s an honorable man, and right now he has a lot to work out.”
Kit said the words, trying to believe them herself, but in truth, she was terrified. Last night she’d rejected her husband’s advances; had his anger and confusion led him to do something foolish?
Even more of a concern was his possible reaction to Jaime. No doubt he’d seen his brother’s car parked near the chapel earlier. Had he stopped to investigate? Perhaps he assumed their accidental meeting was planned. Guilt, despair, fury—he might have felt any of those things.
She had no way of knowing what to believe, but like Dona Gabriella, Kit was imagining the worst. By nightfall, she had just agreed with his mother that they should call the police to trace his whereabouts when Rafe unexpectedly returned to the hacienda.
Though he didn’t make an appearance in the dining room, Kit rejoiced that he’d come back. She exchanged a private look of relief with Jaime and his mother before excusing herself to see Rafe.
She burst into his bedroom, anxious to know if he was all right, and discovered him in a state of partial undress, obviously about to take a shower.
He stared at her with an indefinable expression on his face. “Since you now sleep in another part of the house, I suggest you do not enter my apartment again unless you are prepared to sleep in my bed.”
Rafe would never know how tempted she was to give in. How tempted to take what he was offering, even if it was a matter of one week—or one night. “You were gone so long that your mother’s been beside herself with anxiety.”
“But not my esposa?” His voice was sharp, sarcastic.
“Naturally I have, too,” she admitted. By this time he had removed everything but his shorts. They rode low on his hips, revealing his splendid body to her gaze.
“You don’t need to be,” he murmured in a silky tone. “After seeing Dr. Perez this afternoon, I ran into an old acquaintance outside his office building—or rather, she ran into me.” His mouth curved with ill-concealed amusement, twisting Kit’s emotions into knots. “Luisa Rios is even lovelier than I’d heard. Not only that, she’s eager to resume our…friendship.” He paused. “Unless you can give me a reason to stay home tonight, I’m prepared to enjoy her company. She’s let me know she’s more than willing.”
Taking a deep breath, Kit said, “A woman who would get involved with a married man is beneath you, Rafe. Maybe you always knew that. Maybe that’s the reason you didn’t marry her when you had the opportunity.”
His eyes turned glassy. “The man you’re talking about is gone. And after my talk with Dr. Perez, I’m more convinced than ever that he’ll never resurface.”
“Is this your way of telling me it’s over between us?” she asked in a dull voice.
“You made the decision when you left my bed. Now you must excuse me as I have another engagement.”
When she saw his hands go to the waistband of his shorts, she fled from his apartment. For the first time in their impossible relationship he didn’t call her back. In some ways, she feared, that was the worst omen of all.
Throughout the next week they spoke only in passing. Every morning he would awaken early and drive off, rarely returning until after Kit had gone to bed. No one, including Jaime, knew where he went or what he did.
During the day when time hung heavily, Dona Gabriella tried to keep Kit distracted by discussing the costumes they would wear the following weekend, when the fair began. She called in the seamstress for fittings and Kit went along with her plans because she could tell it brought Dona Gabriella a little pleasure. It helped fill the empty hours, too; Kit no longer had the heart for her former trips into Rota or her long walks around the estate.
Rafe’s mother proved to be a congenial companion, and she steadfastly refused to discuss anything unpleasant. Kit made an effort to keep up her end of their casual conversations. But they both knew very well that once the fair was over, Rafe would leave Jerez and everyone behind, destroying the family forever. Kit didn’t want to think about that; she couldn’t imagine a life without Rafe. Out of necessity she involved herself as much as possible with the preparations.
The carriage, which had been in the family for generations, had to be brought out of storage. When Kit saw the trappings for the horses, she marveled at the superb silver tooling in the handcrafted leather harnesses. Dozens of red tassels attached to the headdresses would accentuate the snowy white of the horses and sway to their movements.
Kit learned that she and Dona Gabriella would ride in the carriage to be driven by Esteban, head trainer at the Mendez stable. Rafe and Jaime, also in costume, would lead the parade astride their famous horses. Behind the Mendez family, the Rios carriage would follow and behind them, the carriages of other prominent Jerez families devoted to preserving the pageantry of bygone generations. People from all over the country, including tourists and dignitaries, had been pouring into the city to celebrate another successful vintage year.
The first day of the fair arrived. When Kit learned that Rafe was tending to the horses and wouldn’t join the family until the parade was ready to start, something seemed to snap inside her. She could no longer put up a pretense.
She thought Jaime would understand that she couldn’t go through with it, couldn’t ride in the family carriage as if she had every right to be there.
“Jaime, how can I smile and wave to the world when our marriage is a travesty? Luisa Rios, for one, knows the truth since she and Rafe have probably spent every evening together for the past week.”
“The fact that my brother has gone out of his way to humiliate you actually reveals the strength of his emotions. This won’t last, I’m sure of it. But he’s still trying to figure out exactly what he feels—and what you feel. It’s the reason you cannot back down now. He’s still testing your love.”
“Testing your love…” Only weeks before, Dr. Penman had said the very same thing. “Show him you’re made of stronger stuff,” he’d admonished her.
In the end, Kit succumbed to Jaime’s pleadings. Later that afternoon Luis drove her and Dona Gabriella through the streets of Jerez to the starting point of the parade, but Kit could scarcely appreciate the beauty of the town bedecked with all its festive finery. She merely went through the motions—smiling, commenting, trying to appear animated.
Above their heads, white and red lanterns had been strung on wires to create a carnival atmosphere. Hundreds of people dressed in bright colors milled around the shops and stalls, gathering under the traditional striped awnings to escape the sun. Everywhere Luis drove, Kit could hear the sounds of flamenco and castanets, the cheerful voices of the crowds, bursts of laughter now and then. But she felt nothing.
With her heart still numb, Kit gathered the many-tiered ruffles of her floor-length yellow dress and got out of the limousine. Esteban assisted Dona Gabriella, who wore a stunning black dress with a red-ruffled skirt. Before leaving the hacienda, Jaime had presented each of them with flowers to match their costumes. Dona Gabriella pinned a red rose corsage to her shoulder, while Kit fastened the yellow camellias behind one ear. Rafe’s mother had insisted Kit wear yellow, since it went with her hair.
Kit knew her gray-green eyes and fair coloring stood out among all these beautiful black-haired, dark-eyed Spaniards. She’d be impossible to miss—the only foreigner among Jerez’s best families, who could
trace their lineage back to the time of Philip II and earlier.
Afraid to turn around in case she saw Luisa Rios in the next carriage—a woman who was one of the region’s most celebrated beauties—Kit followed Dona Gabriella into the Mendez carriage. After making sure the older woman was comfortably settled, Kit took her own place. She found herself staring at the commanding figure of a man on horseback maybe fifty yards away, his head bent as he talked to someone in the crowd.
Rafe.
He looked so breathtaking that Kit could only gaze in wonder. He wore brown leather chaps over tight-fitting gray pants, and a form-fitting black jacket that revealed the power of his muscular chest and arms. He sat tall in the silver-tooled saddle, his dark head partially covered by the eye-catching gray hat with its flat crown and flat broad rim. He wore it at the jaunty angle so characteristic of the hidalgo of long ago.
His beautiful white stallion with the unique black markings pranced in place, setting the red tassels of his bridle in motion, as if he were impatient for his master to begin the festivities. It came to Kit as never before how much Rafe was a part of this land, this life. He couldn’t give it up. She wouldn’t let him!
Suddenly he lifted his head and slowly walked his horse through the hordes of people toward their carriage. Jaime rode several yards behind, dressed in a similar fashion as Rafe, but all Kit could see was her husband’s black eyes, singling her out of the crowd. Without acknowledging her verbally, he stared at her for a long, unsmiling moment. Then he passed by the carriage. In the next instant she heard a woman cry Rafe’s name and felt the blood drain from her face.
“Ignore it, mi hija,” Dona Gabriella murmured. The older woman had just called Kit her daughter.
A lump rose in Kit’s throat, making it difficult to swallow.
“Greet the crowd with a smile. You have nothing and no one to envy. Every woman here would like to be in your shoes this day—particularly Luisa Rios.”
When the older woman extended her ringed hand, Kit grasped it and clung, loving her mother-in-law with all her heart.