For Better, For Worse

by Rebecca Winters

  Coming from his lips, the insensitive question sounded so alien that she could scarcely believe this was her beloved Rafe talking.

  His mouth twitched with the faintest trace of cynicism. “Am I to believe you are a virgin? That no man has ever seen or felt what lies beneath that becoming dress?”

  She bristled in anger. “I realize I’m a mere stranger to you, but I had hoped we could at least be civil to each other.”

  “I thought I was being extremely civil,” he said with an arrogance she’d only seen him display on one other occasion—when Jaime had said something so offensive about her and Rafe that Rafe couldn’t let it go. “You come into my room purporting to be my wife, and since I have no recollection of my former life, I must accept everything you and the doctors say on faith. Naturally I have a few questions of my own, particularly when it concerns my private life, which I’ve supposedly shared with you.”

  He had every right to be suspicious and upset. “The only reason I’m still a virgin is because I never met a man I wanted to go to bed with until I fell in love with you. But there were problems that prevented us from…being together. You see—” she paused, wondering how to begin “—your younger brother Jaime was in love with me, too.”

  At that point he leaned forward, resting his bronzed, muscled arms over his raised knees, giving her his full attention. “How much younger?”

  “H-he’s twenty-nine, two years younger than you.”

  “And how old are you?”

  “I’ll be twenty-six in October.”

  “That still doesn’t tell me why we didn’t make love.”

  She sucked in her breath. “It’s very complicated. Neither you nor I wanted to hurt him, particularly as he’d met me first and had asked me to marry him.”

  His features formed a scowl. “Since you didn’t love him, why did you continue to torment him?”

  Without knowing it, Rafe had just driven to the very heart of her nightmare. “I liked Jaime. He’s a wonderful man, so giving and full of life. I thought that in time my feelings would turn into love, but they didn’t.”

  “And all that time you and I were playing my brother false behind his back? Is that what you’re saying?” He flung the grim accusation at her.

  “No!” she responded emotionally. “You and I didn’t meet until Jaime and I had been seeing each other for about four months.”

  “Why was that? If my brother was so besotted that he begged you to marry him, why weren’t you and I introduced right away?”

  Kit had trouble believing Rafe had lost his memory, because none of his natural instincts had been in any way changed or impaired.

  “Jaime never took me to the hacienda to meet your family. Instead we went sightseeing on my days off from teaching. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, but later I decided he was afraid to let the family know he was dating an American.” And something had told her Jaime didn’t want her to meet his brother until she was safely married to him.

  At Rafe’s frown she tried to explain, “In a family as old and wealthy and prestigious as yours, it’s still a foregone conclusion that any sons will marry Spanish women of high birth whom the parents have already selected.”

  “That’s an archaic custom, one I do not espouse,” came the emphatic avowal. Was he remembering? Her heart leaped.

  “That’s true. And it’s been a source of bitter conflict in your family because both you and Jaime have put off marriage rather than marry without love. This shattered your parents’ lifelong dreams for you. In fact, when your father had his first heart attack several years ago, he blamed it on you, hoping your guilt would drive you to bend to his will.”

  “Madre de Dios!” Rafe blurted out, his hands forming fists. Kit’s heart went out to him. More than anything, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and comfort him.

  “Rafe, darling—”

  His dark head reared back. “What did you call me?”

  She swallowed hard, furious with herself for allowing the endearment to slip out. “Rafe. It’s my nickname for you. Everyone else calls you Rafael. You once told me that your father named you for the archangel, Rafael, because he said that one day you would inherit everything, that you would be the guardian of the Mendez holdings. That was his ambition for you. You’ve also told me many times how important the family estate is to you, especially since his death.”

  It still amazed her to consider that Rafe’s destiny to head the Mendez family and fortune had been sealed at birth, that even his given name had been chosen with a specific purpose in mind. Was it any wonder that Rafe hated what his father had done to him—and to Jaime, who as second-born received no birthright? Who believed himself inferior and lacked any sense of self-worth?

  His face darkened. “You make my father sound like a monster.” His gaze fused with hers and the tendons stood out in his neck. “Now that I have no memory of the past, how do I know this is not some invention of yours to manipulate me to your own advantage?

  “From what I’ve learned, you’re a penniless American schoolteacher from some back-country hamlet. A woman without means who probably isn’t above using her one asset to exploit our family and to drive a wedge between me and my brother.”

  Her cheeks caught fire. “If you have so little faith in me, you can have our marriage annulled on the grounds of non-consummation.”

  In a white-hot rage, Kit reached for her handbag. Unzipping one of the compartments, she pulled out his ring, along with the marriage documents, and tossed them on the bed next to him.

  “There’s your precious seal and the proof that our marriage did take place. You lent me the ring for the ceremony until you could give me one of the family jewels—which I never wanted in the first place because your love was enough.” She fought to keep her voice steady.

  “I’ll leave an address with your pilot, Diego Silva, who’s staying in town. He’s anxious to fly you back to Spain as soon as the doctors say you’re free to go. When you get there, have your attorney send me the annulment papers. I’ll sign anything you want and we need never see each other again.”

  On the verge of bursting into tears, she headed for the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded in such an imperious tone that she feared the entire floor could hear him.

  Her body rigid, she turned toward him. “To my back-country hamlet where no-account parasites like me belong. Where else, Don Rafael de Mendez y Lucar? That’s the name printed on the marriage license you brought with you from Spain. It’s your official title, and you wear it well. After all, you were born to it. Goodbye, señor.”

  Chapter Four

  NOT WANTING to see anyone after her fiery exchange with Rafe, Kit took the stairs rather than the elevator to the main floor. She slipped out a side entrance to the parking lot.

  It wasn’t until several hours later as she drove aimlessly through the streets of Pocatello reliving their explosive encounter that Dr. Penman’s warning came back to haunt her.

  “Oh, yes, Mrs. Mendez. You’re going to get very angry…. And it’s healthy as long as it doesn’t last too long.”

  By the time she returned to her motel room, she was sick with worry that her flash of temper, no matter how justified it had seemed, had done serious damage. How could she have lost control like that? She loved Rafe above all else and wanted his health and happiness at any cost. How could she have allowed herself to forget that?

  A message from Dr. Noyes asking her to see him at the hospital as soon as possible made her feel guiltier than ever.

  “What’s wrong with Rafe?” she asked in an anxious voice when he invited her inside his office twenty minutes later. “The second I got your message, I drove over.”

  He eyed her with puzzled interest. “Why, nothing that I know of.”

  Kit blinked. “He didn’t tell you about our fight? It was horrible. I didn’t mean any of the things I said.” In a torrent of words, she related the essence of their argument to the do
ctor.

  His grin caught her off guard. “Quarreling already. I’m happy to hear it. That means your emotions are in touch, even if there is a memory gap.”

  “Dr. Penman told me I’d get angry. At the time I didn’t know what he meant. I’m ashamed of myself and frightened for Rafe. If I’ve said or done anything I shouldn’t—”

  “Nonsense. I wager there’ll be many fights before both of you come to terms with his condition. The reason I called you in was to let you know that the psychiatry department at the University of Utah has come up with the names of a couple of psychiatrists in Spain, one in Madrid and another in Seville. I wondered if you wanted me to call either of them and discuss the case. It’ll probably involve bringing in a translator. Would you like me to proceed?”

  “Have you talked to Rafe about it?”

  “I have, but he doesn’t see the necessity. Your husband is not a man to lean on others. He carries his burdens inside. I believe you’re the only person who has any influence with him.”

  “If you could have heard him this morning—” Her voice cracked.

  “I have no doubts that by now he’s regretting the outburst and longing for your company. Remember, he has no memory of the past. But he does know you’re his wife. And he knows that, for the present, you’re the only rock he has to cling to. The fact that he’s fighting you so hard proves it. He has to trust you, but he doesn’t like it. That’s because it goes against his upbringing and nature to place his confidence in someone from the outside, and he’s going to test you every step of the way.”

  “And you still think I can influence him to see a psychiatrist when we get to Spain?”

  “I think that if we lay the groundwork now, in time you and your husband will reach a point where you’ll want to talk to someone. It would be better if you’re prepared with a doctor in mind.”

  “I agree. Please go ahead and try to contact that psychiatrist in Seville. It’s close to Jerez.”

  “I’ll make the call first thing in the morning.”

  Kit got up from the chair. “I’ll be in Rafe’s room if you need to talk to me.”

  “Your being there will show him you’re made of much stronger stuff then he might have thought. And it’ll give him the security he craves, even if outwardly he resents you because he needs you so much.”

  Talking with Dr. Noyes gave her a measure of calm, and she hurried to Rafe’s room. She was eager to apologize for losing her temper and secretly determined that she wouldn’t let him get to her again.

  “How is my husband?” she asked the nurse who was coming out of his room. There had been a change in shift, and Kit didn’t recognize the older woman, who looked harassed.

  “It’s a good thing you’re here. He’s been threatening to walk out of the hospital to find you if you didn’t show up soon.”

  The nurse’s words were like a balm to Kit’s wounded heart. “I’ve been with Dr. Noyes.”

  “Well, the next time you go anyplace, you’d better let your husband know exactly where you are.”

  Kit frowned. “Is there a problem?”

  “His blood pressure was up a little, but I’m convinced that’s because of your absence.”

  “Then I’ll make certain it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Men,” the nurse grumbled. “They’re never around when you need them and then they act like spoiled children when they decide they want your attention.” Kit didn’t comment, only gave her a commiserating grin.

  Rafe was sitting in much the same position as before, reading a magazine. When he saw her, he tossed it on the bedside table next to the papers and the ring. He hadn’t put his ring on, though she didn’t know why. By the set of his features and the glint in his eye she could tell that given the slightest pretext, he was ready to resume the battle.

  “I’m sorry for walking out on you earlier,” she began, plunging ahead before he could say anything. “I admit I got very angry. After I cooled off, I tried putting myself in your place and—I couldn’t. Rafe, I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I’m a perfect stranger to you. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to be your friend. Forget that we’re married. It’s only a piece of paper and it doesn’t mean anything without a commitment.”

  His chest heaved from the force of his emotions. “Are you saying you regret our marriage?” he asked in a grating voice.

  “No!” she admitted without reservation. “But I could understand it if you did.”

  He raked a hand through his hair, disheveling it. “I don’t know what I think or feel, but for better or worse, it appears we are married to each other.”

  She rubbed her palms nervously against her hips, a gesture his eyes followed with disturbing intensity. “Only if you want to be. Leaving me out of it, you have an extraordinary life waiting for you back in Spain. Your roots are there and they run very deep. There’s the estate, business matters that need your expertise, family affairs and concerns. You’re one of the most influential and important men in all of Andalusia, respected and admired by everyone.”

  If anything, her words turned his expression to thunder. “You sound as if you’re introducing the guest speaker at a state function, making me out to be some kind of paragon.”

  “You are,” she murmured softly, touched once again by his humility. “That’s why I fell in love with you.”

  The tension increased. “This brother of mine. Tell me about him.”

  Choosing her words carefully she said, “He helps you run the estate.”

  “Are we close?”

  “You’ve always wanted to be, but there have been barriers.”

  His features tautened. “You’re referring to yourself—and to my father.”

  She nodded. “From all that I’ve gathered through you and Jaime, your father doted on you from the moment you were born. When Jaime came along, he was an afterthought and continually pushed aside, ignored in preference to you, which in the end hurt both you and Jaime terribly.

  “Jaime’s envy of you has tainted his life. And it’s placed an unbearable burden on your shoulders, because you could do nothing about it. Every time you tried to reach out to him, make amends for your father’s lack of love and concern, he repulsed your gestures.”

  There was an ominous silence. “If Jaime never brought you to the house, how did we meet?”

  Kit had been waiting for him to ask that question. She tried to quell the frantic beating of her heart. “One evening Jaime and I had a date,” she began carefully, “but his car was in the shop, so I told him I’d pick him up at the bodega after he’d finished work. When I arrived, you were the only one there.

  “Apparently one of the workers had a message for me from Jaime saying there was a problem at one of the vineyards and he’d be unable to keep our date. Later in our relationship you confessed to me that you told your employee you’d pass on the message. You wanted to meet the American woman Jaime had been seeing, the woman everyone was gossiping about.”

  Rafe studied her intently. “Go on.”

  “Almost as soon as I arrived in Rota, a town not far from Jerez, I heard about Rafael de Mendez. Your name is well-known in that part of the province. After I met Jaime at a sherry-tasting party with friends of mine from the base, it didn’t take long for me to realize he lived in awe of you. But it was equally obvious that he also harbored a deep resentment. I decided I didn’t like you very much because you were the source of his pain and I hated to see him hurt. My dislike of you wasn’t rational, of course.

  “When I finally met you, you were nothing like I’d imagined.” Her voice trailed off. In fact, just remembering the awareness that had instantly sparked between them sent a pleasurable quiver through her body. “What made everything so much worse was that I felt an immediate attraction to you. It terrified me.”

  “Apparently the feeling was mutual,” Rafe murmured, frowning as though deep in thought.

  “Yes. You asked me to come to the hacienda to drink some of the sherry you reserved f
or special guests and family. Because of what I was feeling, I knew I shouldn’t go, so I declined the invitation.” Her eyes slid away from his. “But you insisted, saying that it was remiss of Jaime not to have brought me to your home before. I gave in, because I wanted to go with you, be with you.

  “The minute I stepped over the threshold, I felt I’d betrayed Jaime, but the feelings you aroused in me defied logic. Your mother happened to be out with friends and you and I spent an unforgettable evening together. We drank your sherry and ate a simple meal and you showed me around the hacienda, which is virtually a museum of Spanish art history. By the time you escorted me to my car, I knew something…shattering had happened to me. I made a promise to myself never to see you again.”

  “How long were you able to keep that promise?” he asked in a taut voice.

  “Not long.” She gave a sad little laugh. “You phoned me twice the following day and took me on a picnic lunch the next. After that, we ate breakfast before work, lunch in between, and saw each other several nights a week when business kept Jaime away.” She sighed and had to blink back tears.

  “I started avoiding Jaime, turning him down on the pretext of extra work, seeing him only when there were other people around. I’ve never felt so guilty about anything in my life. And yet, I couldn’t help myself. I was so deeply in love with you….

  “Once, about a month after we met, I accompanied you to Tangiers. We flew there in your company plane and played tourist all day long. That evening you took me to a small restaurant by the water and we talked about our lives and dreams until the stars came out.

  “I don’t think either of us noticed the food or the surroundings. Later, we walked along the beautiful white beach in front of the sultan’s palace. You took me in your arms and you kissed me.” Her voice quavered in remembrance of that incredible night when their souls had seemed to merge. “Then you asked me to marry you.”

  “Por Dios!” he muttered. “The paragon had feet of clay after all and lusted after his brother’s woman.” She could have wept for the self-contempt she heard in his voice.