Desert Jewels & Rising Stars

by Sharon Kendrick

  Could he?

  Gabriel lifted a dark eyebrow. “Are you glad to see me?”

  “Of course I’m not glad.” She bit out the words. “If you recall, I’m no longer your secretary. So if you’ve come five thousand miles because you need me to go back to Rio and sew a button or make your coffee—”

  “No.” His eyes glittered at her. “That’s not why I’ve come.” He slowly looked around the house, which was decorated with strings of pink lights and red paper hearts along the walls, and candles above the fire in the old stone fireplace. “What’s going on here?” “A wedding reception.”

  He blinked, then came closer to her, the wooden boards creaking beneath his feet. Laura’s eyes widened as the shadows of firelight shifted across the hard angles of his face. He was so handsome, she thought in bewildered wonder. She’d forgotten how handsome. Her dreams hadn’t done him justice. She could see why so many women chased after him all over the world…and why he was the despair of them all.

  “And just who—” his black eyes narrowed into a glower “—is the bride?”

  She was bewildered at the sudden harshness of his tone. “My little sister. Becky.”

  “Ah.” His shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. Then he frowned. “Becky? She’s not much more than a child.”

  “Tell me about it.” Laura looked down at her bridesmaid’s dress. In the gleam of the fire and pink lights swaying above, the pale pink gown appeared almost white. She looked up suddenly. “Did you think it was me?”

  Their eyes locked in the crowded room. “É claro,” Gabriel said quietly. “Of course I thought it was you.”

  The idea of her having the time or the interest to date, let alone marry, some other man made her choke back a laugh. She smoothed her bridesmaid’s gown with trembling hands. “No.”

  “So there is no one important in your life right now?” he asked, in a casual tone belied by way he held his body in absolute stillness.

  There was someone important in her life. She just had to get Gabriel out of here before he saw Robby. “You have no right to ask.”

  “Sim.” He paused. “But you’re not wearing a ring.”

  “Fine.” Laura’s voice was painfully quiet as she looked down at her feet. “I’m not married.”

  She didn’t have to ask if Gabriel was married. She already knew the answer. How many times had he told her he would never, ever take a wife?

  I’m not made for love, querida. I’ll never have a little housewife cooking my dinner in a snug house every night as I read books to our children.

  Gabriel moved closer, almost touching her. She was dimly aware of people whispering around them, wondering who this handsome, well-dressed stranger might be. She knew she should tell him to leave, but she was caught in the power of his body so close to hers. Her gaze fell on his thick wrists beneath sharply tailored shirt cuffs, and she trembled. She remembered the feel of that strong body on hers, the stroke of his fingertips….

  “Laura.”

  Against her will, her eyes lifted, tracing up his muscular body, past his broad shoulders and wide neck to his brutally handsome face. In the flickering shadows, she saw the dark scruff along his jaw, the scar across his temple from a childhood car accident. She saw the man she’d wanted forever and had never stopped wanting.

  His eyes burned into her, and memories poured through her. She felt vulnerable, almost powerless beneath the dark fire of his glance.

  “It’s good to see you again,” he said in a low voice. He smiled, and the masculine beauty of his face took her breath away. Their fifteen months apart had made him only more handsome. While she.

  She hadn’t seen the inside of a beauty salon for a year. Her hair hadn’t been cut for ages, and her only makeup was lipstick in an unflattering pink shade that she’d worn at Becky’s insistence. Her dowdy dishwater-blonde hair had been hurriedly pulled back in a French knot before the ceremony, but now fell about her shoulders in messy tendrils, pulled out by Robby’s chubby fists.

  Even as a girl Laura had always tended to put herself last, but since she became the single mother of a baby, she wasn’t even on the list. Taking a shower and shoving her hair back into a ponytail was all she could manage most days. And she still hadn’t managed to take off all the extra weight from her pregnancy. Nervously, she pushed up her black-framed glasses. “Why are you staring at me?”

  “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

  Her cheeks went hot beneath his gaze. “Now I know you’re lying.”

  “It’s true.” His dark eyes seared her. He wasn’t looking at her as if he thought she were plain. In fact, he was looking down at her as if he.

  As if he.

  He turned away, and she exhaled.

  “So this is Becky’s wedding reception?” He glanced around the room with something like disapproval on his face.

  Laura thought their home looked nice, even romantic for a country-style winter wedding. They’d scrubbed it scrupulously clean, tidied away all the usual clutter, and decorated their hearts out. But as she followed his gaze, she suddenly saw how shabby it all was.

  Laura had been proud of how much she’d been able to accomplish for her sister on almost no budget. Flowers had been too expensive because of Valentine’s Day, so Laura had gone to the nearest craft store and cut out large hearts of red tissue paper, festooning them on their walls with red and pink balloons and streamers. She’d decorated the house in the middle of the night, as she’d waited for the cake to cool. For the reception dinner, their mother had made her famous roast chickens and their friends and neighbors had brought casseroles and salads for a buffet-style potluck. Laura had made her sister’s wedding cake herself, using instructions from an old 1930s family cookbook.

  She’d been tired but so happy when she’d fallen into bed at dawn. But now, beneath Gabriel’s eyes, the decorations no longer seemed beautiful. She saw how flimsy it all was, how shabby a send-off for her second-youngest sister. Becky had seemed delighted when she saw the decorations and slightly tilted wedding cake that morning. But what else could she have done, knowing how hard her family had tried to give her a nice wedding when there was never a dime to spare?

  As if he could read her mind, Gabriel looked at her. “Do you need money, Laura?”

  Laura’s cheeks went hot. “No,” she lied. “We’re fine.”

  He looked around the room again, at the paper plates with the potluck dinner, at her homemade gown, clearly not believing her. He set his jaw. “I’m just surprised your father couldn’t do better for Becky. Even if money is tight.”

  Laura folded her arms, feeling ice in her heart. “He couldn’t,” she whispered. “My father died four months ago.”

  She heard Gabriel’s intake of breath. “What?”

  “He had a heart attack during harvest. We didn’t find him on his tractor until later. When he didn’t come home for dinner.”

  “Oh, Laura.” Gabriel took her hand in his own. “I’m sorry.”

  She felt his sympathy, felt his concern. And she felt the rough warmth of his palm against her own—the touch she’d craved for the past year and all the five years before. Her fingers curled over his as longing blistered her soul.

  With an intake of breath she ripped her hand away.

  “Thank you,” she said, blinking back tears. She’d thought she was done grieving for her father, but she’d spent most of the day with a lump in her throat, watching her uncle walk Becky down the aisle, seeing her mother alone in the pew with tears streaking her powdered face. Laura’s father should have been here. “It’s been a long winter. Everything fell apart without him. We’re just a small farm and always run so lean, one year to the next. With my dad gone, the bank tried to refuse to extend the loan or give us anything more for spring planting.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  She lifted her chin. “We’re fine now.” Although they were just surviving on fumes, trying to hold on another week until they’d get the
next loan. Then they’d pray next year would be better. She folded her arms. “Becky’s husband, Tom, will live at the house and farm the land now. Mom will be able to stay in her home and be well looked after.”

  “And you?” Gabriel asked quietly.

  Laura pressed her lips together. Starting tonight, she and Robby were moving into her mother’s bedroom. The three-bedroom farmhouse was now full, since Laura and her baby could no longer share a bedroom with Becky, and her other sisters, Hattie and Margaret, shared the other. Ruth had loyally said she’d be delighted to share her large master bedroom with her grandson, but Ruth was a very light sleeper. It was not an ideal situation.

  Laura needed a job, an apartment of her own. She was the oldest daughter—twenty-seven years old. She should be helping her family, not the other way around. She’d been looking for a job for months, but there were none to be had. Not even at a fraction of the salary she’d earned when she worked for Gabriel.

  But there was no way she was going to tell him that. “You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here. You obviously didn’t know about the wedding. Do you have some kind of business deal? Is it the old Talfax mine that’s for sale?”

  He shook his head. “I’m still trying to close the Açoazul deal in Brazil.” His jaw tightened. “I came because I had no choice.”

  Over the noisy conversation nearby, Laura heard a guitar and flute play the opening notes of an old English folk song from somewhere in the house. She heard a baby’s bright laugh over the music and a chilling fear whipped through her. “What do you mean?”

  His dark eyes narrowed. “Can’t you guess?”

  Laura sucked in her breath. All her worst nightmares were about to come true.

  Gabriel had come for her baby.

  After all the times he’d said he never wanted a child, after everything he’d done to make sure he’d never be burdened with one, somehow he’d found out Laura’s deepest secret and he’d come to take Robby. And he wouldn’t even take their son out of love, oh no. He’d do it out of duty. Cold, resentful duty.

  “I don’t want you here, Gabriel,” Laura whispered, trembling. “I want you to leave.”

  He set his jaw grimly. “I can’t.”

  Ice water flooded her veins as she stood near the fireplace in the warm parlor. “What brought you? Was it some rumor—or…” She licked her lips and suddenly could no longer bear the strain. “For God’s sake. Stop toying with me and tell me what you want!”

  His dark eyes looked down at her, searing straight through her soul.

  “You, Laura,” he said in a low voice. “I came for you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  I CAME for you.

  Stricken, Laura stared up at him with her lips parted.

  Gabriel’s dark eyes were hot and deep with need. Exactly as he’d looked at her the night he’d taken her virginity. The night she’d conceived their child.

  I came for you.

  How many times had she dreamed of Gabriel finding her and speaking those words?

  She’d missed him constantly over the last fifteen months, as she’d given birth to their baby alone, woken up in the night alone and raised their child without a father. She’d yearned for his strong, protective arms constantly. Especially during the bad times, such as the moment she’d told her family she was pregnant. Or the day of her father’s funeral, when her mother and three younger sisters had clung to her, sobbing, expecting her to be the strong one. Or the endless frustrating weeks when Laura had gone to the bank with her baby in tow, day after day, to convince them to extend the loan that would let their farm continue to operate.

  But there had been happy times as well, and then she’d missed Gabriel even more. Such as the day halfway into her pregnancy, when she’d been washing dishes in the tiny kitchen and she’d suddenly clutched her curved belly and laughed aloud in wonder as she felt—this time for sure—their baby’s first kick inside her. Or the sunny, bright August day when Robby had been born, when she’d held his tiny body against her chest and he’d blinked up at her, yawning sleepily, with dark eyes exactly like his father’s.

  For over a year, Laura had missed Gabriel like water or sun or air. She’d craved him day and night. She’d missed the sound of his laugh. Their friendship and camaraderie.

  And now, he’d finally come for her?

  “You came for me?” she whispered. Was it possible he’d thought of her even a fraction of the times her heart had yearned for him? “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said,” Gabriel said quietly. “I need you.”

  She swallowed. “Why?”

  His dark eyes glittered in the flickering firelight. “Every other woman has been a pale shadow of you in every way.”

  If her heart had been fluttering before, now it was frantically rattling against her ribs. Had she been wrong to leave him, fifteen months ago? Had she been wrong to keep Robby a secret? What if Gabriel’s feelings had changed, and all this time he’d cared for her? What if—

  He leaned forward as his lips curved into a smile. “I need you to come work for me.”

  Laura’s heart stopped, then resumed a slow, sickly beat.

  Of course. Of course that was all he would want. He’d likely forgotten their one-night affair long ago, while she would remember it forever—in her passionate dreams, in the eyes of their son. Laura stared up at Gabriel’s dark, brutally handsome face. She saw the tension of his jawline, the taut muscles of his folded arms beneath his suit jacket.

  “You must want it badly,” she said slowly.

  He gave her a tight smile. “I do.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother coming back down the hall, holding Robby in one arm and a slice of wedding cake in her other hand. Laura sucked in her breath.

  Robby. How could she have allowed herself to forget, even for an instant, that her son was counting on her to keep him safe?

  Grabbing Gabriel’s hand, she pulled him out of the room, dragging him out of the house, away from prying eyes and into the freezing February air.

  Outside in the wintry night, cars and trucks were wedged everywhere along the gravel driveway between their old house and the barn, strewn along the country road in front of their farm. Across the old stone walls that lined the road, white rolling hills stretched out into the great north woods, disappearing now into the falling purple twilight.

  Behind them, next to the old barn, she could see the frozen water of their pond, gleaming like a silver mirror under the lowering gray clouds. Her father had taught all his daughters to swim there during the summers of their childhood, and even though Laura was now grown, whenever she felt upset, she would go for a swim in the pond. Swimming made her think of her father’s protective arms. It always made her feel better.

  She wished she could swim in the pond now.

  Laura looked down at her breath in the chilly air and saw the white smoke of Gabriel’s mingle with hers. She realized she was still holding his hand and looked down at his large fingers enfolding her own. The warmth of them suddenly burned her skin, sizzling nerve endings the length of her body.

  She dropped his hand. Folding her arms, she glared up at him. “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing. I’m not going to work for you.”

  “You don’t even want to hear about the job first? For instance—” he paused “—how much it pays?”

  Laura bit her lip, thinking of her bank account, which held exactly thirteen dollars—barely enough for a week’s supply of diapers, let alone groceries. But they’d get by. And she couldn’t risk Robby’s custody—not for something so unimportant as money! She lifted her chin fiercely. “No amount of money could tempt me.”

  His lips quirked. “I know I wasn’t always the easiest man to live with—”

  “Easy?” she interjected. “You were a nightmare.”

  His eyes crinkled in a smile. “Now that’s the diplomatic Miss Parker I remember.”

  She glared at him. “Find another
secretary.”

  “I’m not asking you to be my secretary.”

  “You said.”

  He looked down at her. His voice was dark and deep, his eyes burning though her with intensity. “I want you to spend a night with me in Rio. As my mistress.”

  His mistress? Laura’s mouth fell open.

  Gabriel continued to stare down at her with his inscrutable dark eyes, his hands in his pockets. She licked her lips.

  “I’m…I’m not for sale,” she whispered. “You think just because you are rich and handsome you can have whatever you want, that you can pay me to fall into your bed—and go away the next morning with a check?”

  “A charming idea.” A humorless smile traced his sensual mouth. “But I don’t wish to pay you for sex.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks went hot. “Then what?”

  “I want you—” he moved closer, his hard-edged face impossibly handsome “—to pretend to love me.”

  She swallowed. Then she tilted her head, blinking up at him in the fading light. “But thousands of girls could do that,” she said. “Why come all the way up here, when you could have twenty girls at your penthouse in Rio in four minutes? Are you insane?”

  He raked his dark hair back with his hand.

  “Yes,” he said heavily. “I am going slowly insane. Every moment my father’s company is in the hands of another man, every moment I know I lost my family’s legacy through my own stupidity, I feel I am losing my mind. I’ve endured it for almost twenty years. And I’m close now, so close to getting it back.”

  She should have known it had something to do with regaining Açoazul. “But how can I possibly help you?”

  He looked down at her, his jaw clenched. “Play the part of my devoted mistress for twenty-four hours. Until I close the deal.”

  “How on earth would that help you close the deal?” she asked, bewildered.

  He set his jaw. “I’ve hit a snag in the negotiations. A six-foot-tall, bikini-wearing snag.”