Honeymoon With the Rancher (Harlequin Romance)

by Donna Alward

  The pool was gloriously cool, but after a half hour Sophia got out and spent a few moments basking in the sun. It was only early afternoon and she didn’t know when Tomas would be back, and even though he could be completely exasperating, the day seemed empty without his company. Carlos and Maria were returning and she knew Tomas had wanted to finish several jobs before their arrival. A new energy filled her as an idea blossomed. She knew Tomas expected her to soak up an afternoon of leisure. It was what he’d told her to do. But Sophia was quite enjoying exercising her own mind, and he would be in for a surprise when he returned if she had anything to say about it.

  As the golden orb of the sun sank towards the horizon, Sophia made her last swipe with the brush, put it across the top of the can, and braced her hands against her lower back, easing out the ache.

  Then a dot appeared on the horizon where the pampas met the sky and Sophia felt her heart thump. For a few moments she watched as it got gradually bigger, until she could see that it was horse and man. He was cantering across the plain, straight and tall in the saddle, and Sophia forgot her aching muscles and jogged to the gate. As she opened it, she heard the hoofbeats match the motion of the stride and she swung the gate wide to let them through.

  The look of surprise on Tomas’s face as he slowed and trotted through the gap was worth all the hard work she’d put in.

  She closed and latched the gate behind him and followed him to the barn. He dismounted, leading the gelding through and cross-tying him to remove the tack. Sophia hung back, simply watching the way Tomas’s muscles moved beneath his shirt as he removed saddle and pad.

  But when the saddle was put away, the horse watered and turned out, Tomas put his hands on his hips and looked her up and down.

  “And what have you been up to? Because that doesn’t look like the swimsuit I imagined you’d wear for an afternoon poolside.”

  First of all, the idea that he’d imagined her in a bathing suit sent a tingle through her body. Then she realized she was in the dirty coveralls again. And that she had yet to clean up the mess from the painting. Brush and can still sat beside the shed door.

  “I have a surprise for you,” she said, excited to show him her handiwork.

  She led him to the shed and watched his face as he saw the fresh paint. “You did this?”

  She nodded. “I knew you wanted to have it done for Maria and Carlos’s return.”

  Her excitement turned sour when the smile slipped from his face and his jaw tightened. “What is it? Did I do something wrong? Is the job not good enough?”

  “You didn’t have to do this,” he said sharply. “You should have spent the afternoon by the pool.”

  All her elation sank into a pit of disappointment. She’d wanted to please him. She’d wanted to help, to pay him back for the things he’d done for her all week. The low feeling was suddenly infused with anger. At him, for taking the pleasure of completing the task away from her and at herself, for letting him. She stalked over to the can and brush and picked both up. She spun back, intending to head to the barn but he shot out a hand, stopping her—and paint splashed up over the lid and down the leg of the coveralls.

  Oh-so-coolly, Sophia reached out and removed his hand from her arm.

  “I did go for a swim,” she informed him. “It was lovely. And I felt absolutely useless. So I decided to finish what we started the other day. You would have, if you’d had time. And I knew you wanted it done for Maria and Carlos’s return. So yes, I did it. Not that you’re grateful in any way, shape or form.”

  Tomas pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, leaving the curls lying in rills on his head. A smudge of dirt darkened his cheek and Sophia inhaled, fortifying herself. It was not sexy. It was not.

  And perhaps if she told herself that long enough, she might just believe it.

  She swept past him, determined to clean the brush and put the lid back on the can before going to the house. She was glad the Rodriguezes would be back tonight! Maybe she’d have someone to talk to who didn’t feel the need to move between both ends of an emotional barometer!

  “Sophia!” His steps sounded behind her, boots on hard ground. She refused to turn around, just kept walking, bound up in righteousness and feeling vastly unappreciated.

  “Sophia! Wait.”

  She stopped at the imperious command, then with a toss of her head started off again.

  He refused to chase after her. “You are so infuriating!” he called.

  That had her turning around. “So are you!”

  He’d meant it when he’d said he didn’t know what to do with her. He’d phrased it all wrong, he knew. But any other words he formed in his head seemed to say way more than he wanted to. If things hadn’t halted last night, he knew he would have made love to her. Just the thought of it now was enough to tie him in knots. And it would have been a huge mistake. Now it seemed everything he’d said made her angrier with him. Was it what he said or was it because of last night?

  He’d be damned if he’d ask her.

  “I just meant…you’re a guest, Sophia. This wasn’t necessary.”

  “This is a working estancia, right? Didn’t you tell me that one of the big draws is helping out?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “But I didn’t do the job well enough? Is that it?”

  “No, it looks great, but…”

  “But what?”

  Tomas took a step forward, his patience wearing thin. It had been a long, hot afternoon and he’d tried putting her out of his mind and could not to his growing irritation. “If you would let me get a word in, I would tell you that I did not expect you to do this. This is above and beyond. It is my responsibility to have things repaired, not yours.”

  “Is that your version of thank you?”

  How he could want to kiss and throttle a woman at the same time was beyond him.

  “I do thank you.” The shed did look wonderful. And Sophia was riled up and looking as gorgeous as he’d ever seen her, even in the ratty coveralls. “It’s not that. I put that expectation on you and I shouldn’t have.”

  “And so the painting on the first day? That wasn’t my job, either?”

  She had him there. She knew exactly why he’d had her painting the first day. She’d come in with her fancy shoes and the chip on her shoulder and he’d wanted to teach her a lesson. “I was testing you, all right? Pushing you. Which, by the way, I have already apologized for. I thought we’d moved past this.”

  She lifted a finger and shook it. “And yet today what did you do? Came back issuing edicts on what I should and should not do. I have my own mind, Tomas Mendoza. So you can take your imperatives and…and…”

  “Stuff them?”

  A smile made its way to her mouth, though she tried not to show it. Her lips twitched as she admitted, “Those weren’t quite the words I was thinking of.”

  “You shook your finger at me just the way Maria does. There may be hope for you yet.”

  “Why do we always fight?”

  “We don’t…always.”

  He shouldn’t have said it. Her mouth opened and closed a few times and he knew they were both thinking about the other thing they seemed to do with disturbing regularity—kiss.

  She put her hand in the pocket of her coveralls. “You were busy doing other things today,” she said finally. “Your work and Carlos’s and Maria’s. And getting pools filled and taking me to town. So pardon me for trying to help.”

  He sighed, so heavily it felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And bit by bit the anger fuelling him drained away.

  “It was meant as a gift, Tomas. Nothing more. A chance for me to help you. Don’t you think I’ve noticed how hard you work?”

  “And I thank you for the gift, Sophia, I do. But I feel guilty about it just the same.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” He came forward and took the paint can and brush from her hands. “Because finishing the shed was my job, n
ot yours. You were right. This is your vacation, it’s not slave labour. And I would have had it done if…”

  “If?”

  “If I hadn’t been enjoying myself with you.”

  The boutique wasn’t restocked and he’d left the second coat of paint to spend the day in town with Sophia instead. He’d managed to get the pool filled, but with the work crew not coming until the weekend to work on the spa building… He should have had it all done. He knew how Maria felt about the damage, how nervous the fire had made her. That should have been his priority. Not kissing and making wishes on bridges and…

  And every other thing that had been on his mind today. Moving on for real, not just in his head.

  “Can we stop yelling now?” she asked.

  “Yelling is safer,” Tomas said, going to the sink and running water for the brush.

  “Safer than what?”

  His hands paused under the water and Sophia’s mouth formed a knowing O.

  He gave up and put the brush to soak, turning off the water.

  “I do appreciate the work on the shed, more than you know,” Tomas offered. “And so will Carlos and Maria. Maria especially. The fire hit her hard, Sophia. It frightened her. She wanted things back the way they were, and I wanted most of the work to be done because of that. The estancia is starting to look even better than it did before. But I feel awful that I made you think you needed to do this.”

  “You didn’t make me do anything. I was sitting by the pool, bored, wondering what you were doing, and I took the idea to do it.” She lifted her gaze to his, a challenge but with that bit of shyness that hit him in the gut every single time. “I wanted to do it. For you.”

  For him? The notion took the starch out of his argument, leaving him floundering. Oh God, the last thing he needed was Sophia getting serious romantic notions about him. They couldn’t get in too deep. And yet he couldn’t find it in himself to push her away, or be sorry. There was something in her gaze now, something he hadn’t seen before, and it changed the air between them. It was like the loosening of a screw, the untying of a knot, and taking off the pressure made him feel more trapped, rather than less.

  He’d thought last night was the closest he’d ever be to her, and that was the safest course. But he’d been wrong. Right now they were connected in a way he’d never felt before, and he didn’t even know why.

  “Maria and Carlos will arrive soon,” he said finally. To explore what was going on between them would be a mistake. Sure, maybe Sophia had brought him out of his well-guarded shell, and maybe he was having fun. Was it so wrong to enjoy a few precious days? She’d be gone soon enough and he’d still be here at Vista del Cielo.

  “You should go get cleaned up. I’ll look after this.”

  It was all she was going to get from him. As she turned her back on him he knew this was the last time they’d be this alone. Any moment would mark the return of Maria and Carlos. And after that, it was back to Canada for Sophia.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN Sophia emerged from her room in fresh jeans and a T-shirt, Maria and Carlos had arrived. Sophia stepped into the kitchen amid the chatter and stood shyly, not sure how to interrupt. A small, dark-haired woman was shaking a finger at Tomas and Tomas was laughing at her. A man—Carlos—was watching with a smile on his face. He saw Sophia first and smiled at her.

  “You must be Sophia. I am Carlos, and this is Maria. Welcome to Vista del Cielo, though our welcome is long overdue.”

  Maria spun around, a ball of energy that filled the room with light. She rattled off a greeting in enthusiastic Spanish—the words were lost on Sophia but not the meaning. Barely over five feet, she was a firecracker. “We’re so glad you could join us, Sophia. And first thing tomorrow we will straighten out your reservation, I promise.” Then she came forward and gave Sophia a welcoming hug and beamed.

  The reservation. Sophia had forgotten all about it! “Don’t worry about it. If it was a mix-up, it’s been a most pleasurable one.” She looked at Tomas as she said the last, feeling a little challenge build. She knew that Tomas would never want Maria to know how they’d fought—and how they’d made up, too. She smiled, wondering if she’d finally found his weak spot in the woman who would have been his mother-in-law.

  “And our Tomas has been a good host.” It was a statement from Maria, not a question. Sophia nearly laughed. Yes, it gave her a perverse pleasure speaking to Maria while Tomas waited in the background. She wondered what Maria would say if she knew about falling off the horse. Or that Sophia had painted the shed. Or that she had kissed ‘our Tomas’ on the Puente Viejo just before making a wish.

  “The very best,” she replied, sobering. This was also Rosa’s mother, the woman who had lost her daughter and the hopes and dreams that went along with that. “You have a beautiful home, Señora Rodriguez, and a beautiful estancia. The views are amazing.”

  “I am sorry we were not here for your arrival, Sophia.”

  Sophia smiled. “Don’t worry. Tomas looked after me. He’s a fine cook. Did he learn that from you?”

  She caught Tomas’s gaze briefly and saw approval there. He should not have worried. His secrets were safe with her. And Maria was charming.

  “Nothing beats Madre Maria’s cooking,” Tomas replied, and Carlos nodded.

  Maria patted Tomas’s arm and then impulsively went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “In case you haven’t noticed, Tomas is family.” Maria patted Sophia’s arm like she had Tomas’s and Sophia bit down on her lip, a little overwhelmed and startled at the immediate intimacy of the welcome.

  “We treat all our guests as family,” Tomas corrected firmly, but Maria glanced between them, unfooled.

  “Aha, aha,” she replied, nodding, but her sharp eyes seemed to take in everything. “We will see, Tomas. Now come and eat. We brought dinner from the cantina Carlos likes. It has been a long day. Tomorrow will be time enough for asado.”

  During the course of the meal Sophia listened to Maria and Carlos talking with Tomas. It was clear to Sophia that there was much affection between them all. Often they spoke in English in deference to her, but now and again they slipped into their native Spanish, and even though Sophia couldn’t make out the words, she could understand the teasing going on through the affectionate tones and smiles. She didn’t have to understand the language to know that he was closer to Carlos and Maria than she had ever been with Antoine’s family, or even her own. Affection in her house had seemed to hinge on conditions: scholastic achievements, involvement in the right things and with the right people. Margaret had wanted the best for her daughter, but the one thing missing was what Sophia saw now in the faces of Carlos and Maria. It was acceptance, and it was lovely—even if it did leave her feeling a little bereft.

  Many things had become clear on this trip, and the one thing Sophia promised herself was that she would respect and accept herself. She didn’t always have to seek approval from others to have value. She glanced at Tomas, who was laughing at something Maria said about Miguel. She didn’t need Tomas’s approval, either. There was a difference however, she realized, between needing and wanting.

  Carlos sat back and listened to the exchange, and when Maria slipped into rapid Spanish once more and shook a finger at Tomas, Carlos looked at Sophia and smiled. Something warm spread through her, a feeling of welcome. After a particularly loud burst of laughter, Maria looked over at Sophia. “I’m sorry,” she said, still chuckling. “We forget and have put you at a disadvantage, Sophia, by speaking in Spanish.”

  “Which is a blessing, as I am sure Sophia is not interested in your stories of my bad behaviour, Madre Maria.” Tomas sent Maria a most severe look, but Sophia could see the good-natured devilment twinkling there.

  “On the contrary,” Sophia countered. “I think they would be highly entertaining. I didn’t know you had it in you to misbehave.”

  Carlos laughed then, the rusty sound so unexpected that they all burst out laughing again.

  “Another ti
me, Sophia. When Tomas isn’t here to add his centavos. My children turned my hair gray.”

  Sophia laughed, since Maria’s hair was jet-black without a streak of the offending colour. “I look forward to it,” she replied.

  After the meal Sophia offered to help clean up, but Maria brushed her away. “You go,” she said, waving her away with a hand. “Tomas said you have kept busy. He has done a good job, our Tomas.” Maria spoke of him as though he was her own. How blessed Tomas was to have two sets of parents.

  “He must have told you about the fire,” she continued, her face falling and Sophia finally saw a hint of middle-age wrinkles around the woman’s eyes. “And now so much is repaired. The shop and the pool…he told us you helped with the painting, Sophia. That was very generous of you.”

  Tomas hadn’t told Maria that he’d practically forced her into helping that first day, but his secret was safe with Sophia. She remembered what he’d said about Maria being affected by the blaze, and she was doubly glad she had helped. “It was no trouble at all,” she replied. “I’ve enjoyed my time here, Señora Rodriguez. All of it.”

  She swallowed against a lump of emotion. She had, even the arguing with Tomas. She’d felt more alive here in a handful of days than she ever had before.

  “You call me Maria like everyone else.” Maria smiled at Sophia. “And get some rest. No rounding up cattle for you tomorrow. Carlos is here now. I am looking forward to getting to know you and treating you to a real asado. We will work together. Do you like cooking, Sophia?”

  “Yes,” Sophia answered. “Yes, I do.”

  Sophia bade Maria and Carlos goodnight, but after a pause went to say goodnight to Tomas, too. He was standing at a window, looking over the pampas and the big, gnarled tree standing guard on the plain.