by Donna Alward
“Twenty-five,” she offered, wincing inside as the words came out a bit primly. She squared her shoulders. “I am twenty-five years old and I have never had sex. There. I said it.”
The smile he sent her way was soft and indulgent. “I had been going to say afraid.”
She wanted to sink through the floor.
She was scared. She had built this moment up in her mind for so long that when suddenly faced with it she turned coward, unable to go through with it. What if she didn’t know what to do? Tomas might be patient but how far would his patience extend? It was easier to back away.
“Not even with your fiancé?” he probed gently.
It would have been better if he had been repulsed by her admission. That would have been much easier than the way his gentleness seemed to hold a mirror up to her flaws. She’d put her faith in the wrong things, and now had to admit to herself that she had been played for a fool, convincing herself Antoine had loved her enough to wait.
But that was the problem. He hadn’t loved her, and deep down she’d known it. She had struggled for Antoine’s approval just as she had from everyone else in her life, too, and she’d never quite gotten it. He’d been remarkably patient about not having sex. But she understood now. It was because he hadn’t wanted to. He hadn’t wanted her. He’d had his mistress for sex.
And now Tomas was here, and he wanted her, and knowing it was beautiful. And yet she was still too afraid.
Afraid that she’d get in too deep and end up hurt in the end. Because Tomas was temporary. It wasn’t even a question of when he would take his love away. It wasn’t hers to begin with. He might be ready to move on and leave his grief behind, but it was a long leap from there to love. And as much as she’d like to think she was modern enough to disassociate sex from love, she just couldn’t.
She shook her head in answer to Tomas’s question and already she could feel the distance opening up between them. It was clear the moment was over. Being swept away in the magic only went so far, and she had no one to blame but herself. She’d made a calculated risk, overestimated herself and failed. Again.
She pushed herself back on the bed and began rebuttoning her blouse. Once it was fastened she pulled her knees toward her chest and hugged them with her arms. Tomas sat down at the opposite end, his back against the iron foot rail. To her surprise he reached out and put a warm hand on her ankle, tethering them together, reassuring.
“The more you speak of this Antoine, the more I am convinced he’s a total fool,” Tomas said quietly, his thumb rubbing persistent circles around her ankle bone.
“He didn’t love me, and that’s the end of it,” she replied, but she couldn’t help feeling a little empty. “He never did. And I wouldn’t want him back now for any reason.” She looked up at Tomas, who was watching her patiently. “But it might have been nice to know that maybe he did love me, once.”
“Sex isn’t always about love, you know.”
He gave a small smile, and his eyes twinkled at her just a little bit. She adored the way he was looking at her, appreciated how he was trying to make things right again, but she couldn’t quite manage to get there. “But don’t you think it should be?”
His thumb paused. “Obviously you do.” Then it started circling again. “Sophia Hollingsworth, you are incredibly old-fashioned despite first impressions.”
“I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t a criticism.”
The whole conversation, rather than putting her off, was making her appreciate Tomas’s good qualities all the more and that was a frightening idea. She craved the intimacy, but it terrified her as well.
She was a mess, she realized. And she had been for some time.
“I don’t want to be in love,” she admitted, and the silence in the room was momentarily deafening. “And I know you don’t, either.”
The evening waned and the shadows lengthened in the room. Tomas shifted to the head of the bed and put his arm around her, pulling until she turned into the curve of his arm. She thought of the way he’d picked her up in his arms and a curl went through her tummy. Why did he have to be so damned honorable?
“You’re right,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be in love. But I like you, Sophia. I like you a lot.”
“I am afraid of spiders and can’t ride a horse.”
“Well, there is that.”
She rested her cheek on his shoulder.
“I’m not really good at anything.”
“You are good at trying. I respect that, Sophia.”
She wanted to ask him if he could ever see himself being in love again, but she kept the words buttoned up inside. The night had been embarrassing enough without bringing the topic of Rosa into it. She knew she should push away and go to her own room. The very thought made her so lonely her chest cramped. Tomas on one side of the house, her on the other. She was tired of being alone. She was tired of having to pretend she was strong. She had spent years following the rules, doing what was asked of her because she’d been afraid of being alone. Afraid of having that love taken away should she make a mistake.
Well, here she was, in spite of her best efforts, alone anyway. Except for Tomas. And he was making her see that toeing the line was no guarantee. From now on she wanted to be herself. And those that loved her would love her for that—not because she’d done what they wanted.
But oh, it was hard to let go. The backs of her eyes burned with unshed tears.
“I should go,” she whispered, knowing that if she were going to cry it would be better to do it privately.
Tomas knew he should let her go. He could hear the tears in her voice and he knew he should be running in the other direction. Slaking his need for her was one thing. Taking a virgin was another—especially one who felt that making love actually should have some ingredient of love in it. He closed his eyes, knowing he’d gotten himself in too deep.
The problem was that he knew she was right. When two people shared bodies, hearts got involved, and his relationship with her—could it be called a relationship?—was complicated enough. Making love to her now was out of the question. But sending her off to her own room felt callous and cold. Instead Tomas shifted his weight and lifted the blanket, covering them both as they slid down the bed.
“Don’t go yet. I don’t want you to leave upset.”
“I’m not.” And still she held on to his warmth and he felt her soft curves curl against him. He tightened his arm. It felt so natural, so right.
“Let me hold you for a while, then.”
She let out a breathy sigh and her head relaxed fully against the curve of his shoulder. Tomas felt something open up inside him. It had been so very long since he’d held a woman this way. Since he’d let someone trust him—since he’d trusted himself. Sophia made him feel good and strong. Protective and invincible.
Which should have been a wonderful, beautiful thing.
But as her breath evened out and she fell asleep, her breath moist on his skin, all he felt was regret, sharp and bittersweet.
The sun filtered in through the window as Sophia woke, the corners of her eyes gritty with sleep. She was curled up next to Tomas’s body, her head tucked beneath his chin and her ear pressed against his warm chest. She could just make out his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his steady breathing. She closed her eyes again, indulging in the moment of being held in his arms while he slept. Her cheeks burned as she realized that she had managed to do something she had never done before. She had spent the night in a man’s arms. In Tomas’s arms. They had slept together in the most literal sense of the term.
For that, she most definitely was not sorry.
She opened her eyes again and very carefully shifted so she could rest on her elbow and examine him. She got a thrill simply looking at him sleeping: his golden skin so much darker than her own pale, slightly freckled complexion, the thick fringe of lashes that lay on his cheeks and the hint of dark stubble on his jaw. For a fleeting moment she let hersel
f believe that he was hers. No one else’s. Just hers. It was an unsettling feeling knowing she wanted him to be. Sex or not, her feelings for Tomas were growing and becoming more complicated. Not love, but definitely something.
She counted down days. Only three left, after today. Her time here was drawing short, and she found she didn’t want to go home yet, even though she knew she must. It was more than the country working on her heart, she realized. More than the novelty and the exoticism of it, so very different from her own way of life. More than the comfort and peace of the estancia. No, it was Tomas. She knew that months from now when she looked back, it would be Tomas she would remember most. Tomas whose face would still be clear in her mind.
Her hand began to fall asleep and she carefully tried to change position. Tomas’s lashes flickered and then raised. When the sleep cleared, his eyes focused on her, and she felt the queer lifting in her chest once again. Tomas tightened his arm around her and pulled her in against him, drawing her close and dropping a light kiss on her forehead.
“Buenos dias,” he said softly, and Sophia smiled against him, feeling that any errors of the previous night were forgiven. “Buenos dias to you, too,” she replied. She supposed now that they were both awake they’d have to get up and out of their cozy cocoon. But Tomas’s possessive arm stayed where it was and she held on awhile longer.
“The bed is too comfortable,” he grumbled. “I suppose I should get up and tend to the animals.” Tomas shifted on to his side so he was facing her. “You could help me today. You can wear your new jeans and you can help me move the cattle.”
“You’d trust me to do that?” She rose up on to her elbow. Were they not going to speak of last night then? On one hand she was vastly relieved, and she was pleased he had asked her to help today. But on the other, it showed her nothing had changed for him. It was back to work as usual.
“Of course. It will be fun. It is one of the things Carlos will be doing with tourists, you know. I’ll show you what to do. And I would like your company.”
“I’d like to go with you,” she admitted. What had she expected? Morning declarations and flowery speeches? Of course not. She would show him that nothing had changed for her, either. “It would be lonely here in the house alone.”
“Maria and Carlos will be back this evening. It won’t be quiet for long.”
When she’d first arrived Sophia had wished for the Rodriguezes’ presence simply so she wouldn’t have to butt heads with Tomas. Now she wanted more time alone with him, and he sounded relieved that Maria and Carlos would be here to run interference. Sophia suddenly felt embarrassed about last night, clinging to him when she should have gone to her own room. He’d only been polite. He’d acted kindly instead of pushing her away. She wanted to bury her face in her hands, but resisted. Now she just wanted to get out of here.
“Sophia…”
“Hmm?” She sat up and began to swing her legs over the edge of the mattress.
“I want to apologize for how I treated you when you arrived.”
The apology gave her pause and she carefully put her feet on the floor. She forced a laugh and looked over her shoulder at him. “I deserved it. I might not be very good at this ranch stuff, Tomas, but I think I am done with putting on appearances. It feels liberating, so don’t apologize.”
She pushed herself up off the bed and ran her hands down her wrinkled blouse. “Now, if we’re going to be working today, we need a good breakfast. I’m going to make pancakes.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you now?”
“Yes, I am. You’re not the only one who can cook, you know.” He wasn’t the only one who could do a lot of things. Like pretend last night never happened.
“Have you been holding out on me, Señorita Hollingsworth?” He pushed himself to a sitting position and she tried not to stare at the bare expanse of his chest, and the warm skin where, up until a few minutes ago, she’d been snuggling.
His teasing was light with innuendo, and she couldn’t help the bit of relief that rushed through her as she replied, “Most definitely, Señor Mendoza.”
“Then get to it. After lunch, we can try out the pool.”
Sophia’s cheeks warmed as she scuttled from Tomas’s bedroom. So he would come with her after all. She told herself not to get her hopes up, not to read more into things than was there. Last night had been a disaster and this morning there hadn’t even been a good morning kiss. No, there was nothing more going on with her and Tomas.
Nevertheless, the thought of basking in the sun with him, dressed only in her two-piece suit gave her a queer feeling in her stomach.
Sophia finished the tidying while Tomas got the horses. She quickly changed, deciding on her new jeans for a morning spent in the saddle, as well as a cotton shirt, boots and the dusty campero she’d worn during her first eventful ride. As she passed by the living room, her gaze fell once more on the girl in the photo. She was still smiling, so confident as she sat on her horse. She frowned as a sudden thought occurred. Was this Rosa? Sophia’s cheeks flamed. It very well could be. The face was happy and carefree, the picture taken just outside the barn here at the estancia—Sophia could see the door on the edge of the photo. It gave her an odd feeling, knowing she’d been in Rosa’s house, sharing a bed with Tomas. As if she were trespassing somehow.
It was better that they hadn’t gone through with it last night, she realized. Nothing could come of their relationship. All she could worry about was the here and now. Today, Sophia would help Tomas. Today, she would refuse to let anything else matter.
Tomas had the horses ready and Sophia let the maudlin thoughts flutter away on the dry wind as together they worked their way south. He showed her how to position her mount to urge the cattle in a specific direction, and other than calling his instructions, the distance between them prevented any real conversation. But Sophia didn’t mind. She was actually having fun. Moving the cattle and working the horse took all her physical and mental concentration. She’d be tired later, but for now it was invigorating.
She reined to the left and brought several cows back into the group as Tomas shouted his approval. She urged the last one through the gate and took off her hat, swinging it through the air in victory. Tomas dismounted, moving to close the latch.
“I told you you could do it,” he said, dusting off his hands and squinting up at her.
“It is not a very large herd,” she acknowledged, but inside she was proud of her achievement. If someone had told her even a week ago she’d be herding cattle, she’d have laughed in their face. Now here she was, dusty, dirty, hot and happy. She dusted off the campero and put it back on her head.
“It doesn’t matter. There were only two of us and it worked.”
“I think I stopped needing to prove something,” she admitted. “And I just wanted to help.”
“Well, you did a fine job for a beginner. Are you sure you don’t want a job as a hand here?”
He was joking but the idea temporarily knocked Sophia off her pins. For a split second she thought about leaving her whole life in Canada behind and making a complete change. It was a giddy thought. But she dismissed it as quickly as it had come. It was also silly. She was no ranch hand, and she didn’t belong here. He was just teasing.
“You’re very funny, Tomas. And you know once Carlos is back you’ll have everything handled.”
Tomas held up a hand, halting any more discussion.
“What is it?” She looked around, wondering if he’d heard some animal she wasn’t aware existed in this part of the world. His eyes were sharp and his cheekbones taut as he scanned the pasture. “Are we in danger?”
“Sophia. For God’s sake, hush,” he commanded.
He looked at the retreating herd and she saw his lips move as if he were counting. “It is as I thought. We’re short one. Are you sure you didn’t miss any?”
Great. Had she messed up again?
“You take the far side, and I’ll come up this way. If you find ou
r missing cow, call out.”
Sophia nudged her mare towards the far side of the pasture. Why had her first thought been that of failure? Of doing something wrong? A fly buzzed around her head and she swatted at it, annoyed. She was far too desperate for his approval. Why did she continue letting him be so important?
Because he was the one person who challenged her, and seemed to think she could meet the challenges he put before her. He wasn’t setting her up to fail. He pushed. She was learning to push back. And dammit, she was learning to respect him, too. It would be easier to resent his perfect hide if she didn’t.
Tomas called out; Sophia had half hoped she’d be the one to find the stray animal just to prove a point. Instead she slowly made her way across the field to where Tomas was already examining the errant cow.
“She’s cut,” he said, examining the leg below the knee joint. “I don’t have my bag with me…”
Sophia interrupted him with a raised brows. “You mean you’re not prepared?”
“Not this time. We’ll have to ride back, and I’ll come back out with supplies. It’s not bad, but there’s always concern of infection.”
They rode back to the barn, Sophia managing an easy canter behind Tomas. When they rode into the barnyard, Sophia looked over at him. “Do you need help? I can come with you.”
“No, I’ll be fine. Let’s just turn Neva out for some fresh grass.”
Sophia helped him remove the saddle and bridle from Neva and she turned the mare out into the paddock by herself, a task she could never have accomplished a few days ago.
“Go enjoy a swim,” he said as he began packing things into a leather bag, but he paused to squeeze her hand. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, and you should enjoy the afternoon. I’m sorry I can’t join you, Sophia.”
She couldn’t quite erase the feeling that he was conveniently out of her path for the afternoon. But the incident was also a clear reminder to Sophia that this was a working ranch, and that Tomas’s job also included caring for the stock in addition to interacting with guests. And this week he’d been doing the jobs of four people—cook and host, handyman and gaucho. He looked weary as he mounted his horse again, but she smiled. “I will. I’ll see you later.”
