Honeymoon With the Rancher (Harlequin Romance)

by Donna Alward

  “Sophia!” Tomas knelt beside her and she felt his hands behind her shoulders as she tried to sit. “No, lie down,” he commanded, gently placing her on the grass. “Catch your breath, and tell me you’re all right.”

  His face swam before her eyes as she inhaled and exhaled, trying to steady her breathing to somewhat near normal even though her chest felt as though someone was stepping on it. Lying down helped. Tomas’s hat was on the grass beside them and she saw a slight ring around his scalp where the band and sweat had flattened his short dark curls. He was beautiful, she realized. In an unreal sort of way—dark and mysterious and perfect. She felt horribly dirty, provincial and awkward. She’d tried to fake knowing what she was doing, but she’d been unequal to the task, just as she’d been at painting this morning. She’d failed yet again. All she’d had to do was stay in the saddle for another fifteen minutes and she would have been home free.

  Now she looked like a prize idiot next to Tomas’s stunning looks, self assurance and…

  Oh Lord. The way he was looking at her right now. Like he cared. His lips were unsmiling, his eyes dark with anxiety. How long had she wished for someone to look at her in just this way? As though if something happened to her it would be a catastrophe? Antoine certainly never had. He’d acted as if her feelings, her needs, counted for nothing.

  And counting for nothing hurt, dammit. She finally acknowledged to herself that Antoine’s betrayal of her had hurt most because she had felt inconsequential. Had felt that she didn’t matter.

  Tomas’s hand reached behind her head and cradled it in his hand, cushioning it from the hard earth. “Sophia, please,” he said roughly. “Tell me where it hurts.”

  His plea broke through every defence she’d erected since walking into the hotel room and seeing Antoine with his mistress. Her whole life hurt right now. She had never felt so alone. And the worst part of it was that she knew she couldn’t make sense of any of it until she figured out who she was. It was a horrible, horrible feeling to realize that she’d lost herself along the way. She was like a boat bobbing aimlessly on the sea with no direction. And it had taken this rough-and-ready gaucho to make her see it. Maybe she’d looked like a fool just now, but there was no mistaking the genuine concern in his eyes. She held on to that, letting it be a beacon in the darkness.

  I hurt everywhere, she thought, and she felt the telltale sting of tears behind her eyes. And the last thing she wanted was for him to see that. She’d lost enough face today.

  She gripped his forearm with her hand and pulled herself up to sit.

  “It’s my fault,” Tomas berated himself sharply. “I never should have gone off ahead. I knew you were inexperienced.” He brushed a piece of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “You were doing wonderfully. You have more pluck than I gave you credit for.”

  Sophia’s face softened. Did Tomas blame himself? That was ridiculous. He couldn’t have known the mare would run off.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, knowing that nothing was broken, only bruised. There was an ache in her hip from landing on the hard ground, and she suspected she would be stiff later, but the greatest harm had been done to her pride. And yet his words stirred something warm inside. Had he actually said she’d been doing wonderfully? She had been faking the whole way, trying to remember what she’d learned about riding in those two childhood rides. So she hadn’t fooled him. But she hadn’t made a disaster of it, either. At least not until the end.

  “At least you know I never do things halfway,” she replied. She looked around. Both horses were standing a few metres away, looking utterly unconcerned about Sophia’s welfare. Her campero had flown off and was lying in the dust.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered, and he went to the horses, gathering the reins and tethering them to the fence. He snagged her hat and came back, sliding an arm under her knees and picking her up while the campero dangled from his fingers. Her breath hitched as he stood and gave a little bounce, adjusting her weight in his arms.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you inside, what do you think?”

  It was heavenly being in his arms, the primitive physicality of it thrilling. She was held closely against the wall of his chest, so close that she could see a single bead of sweat gather at the hollow of his throat. She wanted to reach out and touch it with the tip of her finger, but didn’t have the courage to take such initiative.

  He began carrying her towards the house. No man had ever done such a gallant thing for her before, and it would be very easy to get swept away. But this was definitely not standing on her own two feet and the last thing she wanted was to look like some helpless female. She’d done that enough today. “Please, put me down. I can walk.”

  “You took quite a fall, Sophia.” His chocolatey eyes were still heavy with concern and a tiny wrinkle marred his brow.

  Her arms had gone around his neck by instinct and her body bobbed with every long stride of his legs. “Then let me walk it off. Nothing is broken, Tomas. This is silly.”

  They reached the gate and she stuck out a hand, grabbing on to the metal bar and pulling them to a halt. “Let me down. You can walk me to the house if you want.” His gaze caught hers for long seconds. “The fault is mine. I felt I had something to prove, but I was wrong. I should have asked for help. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she apologized.

  He gave in and gently put her down. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  She did hurt. She missed the feeling of being held in his arms already, and she ached all over. Her left hip pained when she put her weight on it. But it was just bruising. “Nothing serious. I’m more humiliated than anything.”

  They took slow steps to the house. Tomas remained right by her side, slowing his strides to match hers, his right arm always near in case she needed support. “I’m the one who should apologize, Sophia. You are inexperienced with horses, and I knew that. This is all my fault. I should not have ridden ahead.”

  “Why did you?” She hobbled along, looking up at him from beneath her campero, the hat resting crookedly atop her head.

  “I…”

  “You’re going to put that wall around yourself again, aren’t you? Fine. I get it. You are allowed to ask questions. I’m not. Loud and clear, Tomas.”

  “Dios, your tongue is sharp!” He bristled beside her. “You might have been killed, do you understand? What if Neva had gone down? What if she’d rolled on you?”

  He turned on her, anger darkening his face now. “I should have stayed with you. You might have broken your neck.”

  “Oh, what would you care? You’ll be glad to be rid of me, admit it!” she shot back. She instantly felt bad for saying it. “Tomas, I’m…”

  But he never gave her a chance.

  “¡Maldita idiota! I cannot figure you out. You panic at the sight of a spider, but when the danger is real…”

  “Perhaps you should have thought of that before giving me a skittish horse that runs at the least little thing!”

  “I gave you the calmest horse in the stable!” They were standing in the middle of the yard now, shouting.

  “Do you treat all your clients this way?” She scoffed, her voice ripe with derision. Her blood was up now and it felt marvelous! All the righteous anger she’d channeled into cancelling the wedding and reorganizing her life came bubbling to the surface. “Oh wait…I’m the only one. Remind me why that is again?”

  “¡Cállate!” He shouted. “Enough!”

  And then he gripped her arms in his strong hands and kissed her.

  The pain in her hip disappeared as his lips covered hers. Passion, a passion she hadn’t known she even possessed, exploded within her and she reached out to hang on to his shirt. He braced his feet, forming a solid wall for her to lean against, and in return she twined her arms around his ribs and over his shoulder blades, craving the feel of his body against hers.

  This was what had been missing, she realized with a shock. Pure, unadulterated physi
cality. The kind of force that rushed in like a hurricane and frightened the hell out of her.

  She shuddered and the fingers gripping her arms eased. His mouth gentled over hers until his lips played, teased, seduced.

  It made her want to weep. How was it that even in anger this stranger seemed to know exactly what she needed? How did he know that she needed gentleness?

  “Are you still angry at me?” she whispered as their lips parted. She couldn’t make herself meet his gaze; instead she stared at his mouth as though she hadn’t seen it before. Full lips, crisp in their perfection, soft when they needed to be soft, firm when they needed to be commanding…

  “Yes,” he admitted, letting out a ragged breath. “Are you still angry at me?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “Because I’m tired of being angry.”

  “I shouldn’t have shouted. You scared me, Sophia.”

  “I scared myself.”

  She risked a look up at him then. His eyes were dark with concern again and she marveled at it—why should he care about her? Who was she to him? But she wasn’t about to argue. At the moment, sad as it was, he was all she had.

  He turned from her and they began walking towards the house again. Sophia’s legs felt like jelly after the kiss, but she forced one foot ahead of the other.

  “Why didn’t you say anything earlier when I mentioned going riding?”

  “I didn’t want you to know.” She raised her chin. “After the way I showed up yesterday, and then my overreaction this morning…I didn’t want you to think I was some vapid female who couldn’t handle as much as a broken nail. I didn’t expect to be racing across the pampas, either.”

  She wouldn’t look at him, but to her right, she heard a soft chuckle. “You are very stubborn, Sophia Hollingsworth.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  This time he really did laugh, and the sound reached in and expanded inside her. She knew it was ridiculous. She had made a miscalculation and now she was limping back to the house, dirty and with dented pride claiming that stubbornness was an attribute and not a fault.

  “I didn’t foresee that happening. I was a very poor tour guide today. If nothing else, I should have asked you about your experience instead of assuming.”

  “And what would you have done differently? Stop blaming yourself.” She stopped and put a hand on his arm. His solicitousness was lovely, but it wasn’t required. “It was the wind, that’s all.” Her body warmed as their kiss was still foremost in her mind. “And…about what happened before…I don’t want you to fix things, Tomas. I came on this holiday to be my own solution. Please don’t take this as an insult. I’m coming to understand I have spent far too long being at the mercy of other people. I need to prove to myself that I am capable, too.”

  “And just what did this afternoon prove?” He raised an eyebrow, challenging.

  They were at the house now and Sophia paused with her hand on the door.

  What did it prove? Perhaps that the appreciation she had for Tomas had blossomed into full-blown attraction. And it had proved that the feeling was mutual. The potential in that stopped her in her tracks. It was an exhilarating, terrifying thought.

  She took a careful breath. “It proved I am in dire need of a hot bath. And perhaps a glass of wine.”

  “I think the Vista del Cielo can handle that.”

  But Tomas waited a moment before backing away. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can call a doctor.” His hand rested on her shoulder and she tried not to like the heat of it there—but she did anyway. She could protest all she wanted, but it felt good to be cared for, taken care of, even just a little. The simple touch made her wonder what it would be like if he came inside with her, maybe kissed her again. Would it be as good the second time? Better?

  “Truly, I’m fine, thank you.” She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted to see him smile, and feel the way his gaze fell on her, warm and approving in the Argentine sun. She wanted him to touch her cheeks with his lips again and maybe slide that small distance to her mouth. Her gaze fell unerringly on his lips too and then back up to his eyes. She’d give up her soak in the bath for that.

  “I will see you later. I must look after the horses if you are all right.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She wasn’t going anywhere, not yet. But in another week she would be on a plane headed back to Canada. That much would not change no matter how enamored she became of her surroundings. She took one last approving look at his retreating figure. All of her surroundings.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “WHAT are you doing?” Tomas asked, stepping into the kitchen. He’d spent a long time in the barns, avoiding Sophia after their kiss. Needing to clear his mind. It hadn’t worked. The taste and feel of her stayed with him until there was no more tack left to polish. He’d put things off a little longer by having a quick shower. Now he’d come to the kitchen to scrounge something to eat, never expecting to find Sophia there. He’d figured she’d be exhausted from her eventful day.

  “Making dinner. You were busy in the barn, and I was cleaned up, so…” she broke off the sentence, turning around to face him as she wiped her hands on a towel. “I didn’t know what sort of food you were used to, so I put together a cold meal. I hope that’s okay.”

  Tomas stepped forward, just enough to catch the perfumed scent of her skin. She should have been dead on her feet after the extraordinary day they’d had. Instead he found her here looking like an ad in a magazine. She wore a dress that managed to hug her figure yet appear elegant, drawing his gaze to the soft curve of her hips. Her hair was up in some sort of twist that looked simple and casual and that he expected took a great deal of talent to arrange. Silver and amethyst earrings dangled at her ears. And the shoes were back. Lower heels this time, but he raised his eyebrows at the sandals that blended shades of pink, lime green and turquoise. They should have been garish. Instead, they complemented everything, making her look young and stylish.

  Like the woman who had arrived yesterday. Tomas knew he should be relieved. It was easier to distance himself from her when she looked like this—foreign and out of his league.

  But he missed how her eyes had glittered up at him from beneath her campero and how cuddly she’d appeared in his coveralls. “You didn’t have to make dinner.”

  “But you said everyone pitches in. I ditched you earlier—literally. And my bath was very refreshing. I fear today’s activities have left me starving.”

  She smiled up at him and he felt his breath catch. This was wrong. It was purely physical. But it was just attraction. Nothing more. He could handle it. Another few days and she’d be gone. Just a blip on the libido radar until things got back to normal.

  “How is your hip?” he enquired politely, ignoring the way his pulse had quickened and moving to help with the preparations. She’d already laid out a selection of cold meats from the fridge, as well as cheese and sliced vegetables. The food was placed strategically on a platter, in sections and precise layers that made it a work of art.

  “Sore, but the bath helped, and the scented salts, too. They are a lovely addition to the room, Tomas. It should be mentioned to Maria. A nice touch.” She put the last few slices of tomato in place and stood back. “There. All that is missing is slicing the bread.”

  “I can do that. You should get off your feet.” Tomas felt off balance at the change in their conversation. In some ways it felt polite and distant, and yet there was a comfortableness to it that made it seem that they’d known each other far longer than a couple of days. And then there was the kiss that neither of them had mentioned. It stood between them, a lump of something that was hard to ignore. They had both retreated to their respective corners since then, looking for solid footing. Had it affected her as strongly as it had him?

  He sliced the bread and Sophia laid it on a plate around a small bowl of herbed butter. “Let’s eat outside,” Tomas sugg
ested. He wouldn’t feel so closed in if they ate in the backyard. “I can light a fire. We often do in the evenings.”

  “That would be lovely.” Again she smiled, warm and polite, and Tomas got the sneaky suspicion that it was her friendly meet-the-politician smile.

  It was no more than he deserved, and he should be glad she’d taken a step back. But he hated it.

  They carried the food outdoors, and while Sophia went back into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of wine and glasses, Tomas began laying a fire.

  This formality was exactly what he’d wanted. So why did it feel so awkward?

  After the meal he insisted on doing the cleaning up and sent Sophia to rest her hip. When the last dish was dry and back in the cupboard, he found her in the living room, curled into a corner of the sofa, sleeping.

  She looked so innocent with her lashes on her cheeks and her lips relaxed in slumber. Her shoes were on the floor and her dress had slid up her thigh, revealing the soft skin to his gaze. Gently, so as not to wake her, he ran his finger up the smooth length, stopping at the hem and drawing back. He didn’t know what to make of her. One moment fragile, the next stubborn as a mule. Today he’d felt he’d let her down. He knew she could have been seriously injured, and he’d expected her to retreat to spoiled form. But instead she’d risen above it and had proved her mettle.

  He reached out and touched her shoulder, and as her eyes opened and focused on his he felt the burning start, deep in his gut.

  “It’s time for bed,” he said quietly.

  For a few moments something hummed between them. The memory of the afternoon’s kiss seemed to sizzle in the air. Her eyes had the same hooded, dazed look now as they’d had then, and he swallowed, resisting the urge to reach out and run his thumb over her cheekbone.

  He had the most irrational thought of taking her down the hall to the family quarters and tucking her beneath his sheets before crawling in beside her and holding her close. Her dark eyes showed the slightest hint of alarm as if she understood the direction of his thoughts even though no words had been spoken.