by Donna Alward
“And that is why you were so angry that I didn’t tell you about the estancia.”
“Someone else has been in control of my life for so long, it felt as though you were manipulating me, only letting me see what you wanted to, rather than the real Tomas. And that hurt. Because I was really starting to care for you.”
“And I didn’t tell you everything because I was starting to care for you, too, and I thought if you knew, it would ruin what time we had together.”
“Why would you think that? It’s wonderful that you set up the business with them. They adore you. She was your fiancée, Maria and Carlos’s daughter. She is a part of you. Knowing about her wouldn’t have changed anything, Tomas. It’s not like it was your fault.”
Tomas let go of her hand, slid down the bench and stared straight ahead. “But it is my fault, Sophia. Rosa died because of me.”
Tomas hadn’t planned on telling her everything. Especially today, knowing she hadn’t truly trusted him. He’d thought they were over. But the boat ride had changed everything. He loved her. There was no question in his mind now. And there could be no more secrets between them, especially now when she had told him the truth.
But oh, it was tearing him apart to say the words.
“I meant what I said earlier, Sophia. I would do anything to protect you. But I didn’t protect Rosa. She died because of me. Because of the man I was. I was like Antoine. I was focused on business. We were supposed to have dinner to talk about wedding plans, but I was working late, trying to finish up a final deal before a board meeting the next day. Rosa called to say she would meet me at the restaurant. She walked instead of me picking her up. But she never made it to the restaurant.”
He swallowed. Wanted to feel Sophia close to him, but he couldn’t bear to look at her face right now. He wasn’t the knight in shining armor she seemed to believe him to be. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes. So he folded his hands on his knees and forged forward.
“She was mugged on the way to the restaurant. She must have put up a fight—the Rosa I knew wouldn’t have gone along easily. There were scrapes where her engagement ring had been pulled off her finger. The coroner said she hit her head when she fell. By the time she was found and taken to the hospital, it was too late. And it all could have been avoided if I’d picked her up like I’d promised instead of being full of myself and of work.”
“Oh, Tomas,” Sophia said softly.
“You see?” He jumped to his feet, moved a few steps away. “That’s what I didn’t want. Pity. I don’t deserve pity, Sophia!”
“So you turned your back on the company, on your family, and decided to punish yourself by isolating yourself at the estancia?”
He nodded, knowing he shouldn’t be surprised that she understood. This was Sophia. Sophia who seemed to get everything about him.
“Maria and Carlos never blamed me. Being close to them I was close to her. And I could help them. It was more than my duty. I wanted to.”
It had been the only way he could think of to help. Maria needed people around, people to mother. There was no more Rosa, Miguel was gone to Córdoba and the grandchildren she yearned for were a distant hope. “I couldn’t stand to see the loneliness in Maria’s eyes anymore. We built the place together.”
“What about your family in Buenos Aires? They must miss you. And the company. Did you resign?”
“My brother took my place. And my father and mother…” He swallowed. Yes, they had their faults but they loved him. He knew that. The Rodriguez family didn’t run in the same circles as the Mendozas, but he’d finally admitted to himself that his parents had been good to Rosa. Their concern hadn’t been for appearances but for Rosa, and how she would adjust to the kind of life she’d never known.
Finally, finally, he looked at Sophia.
She was sitting on the bench, her jeans dark with water, the wet patches on her shirt with still drying. Any makeup she’d worn had been washed away in the spray and her hair lay in dark, wet curls. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And he knew as sure as he was standing here that somehow he couldn’t let her go.
“My father told me there is always a place for me at Motores Mendoza. It was me who shut the door.”
“And will you open it now?”
Would he? He found himself blinking as he thought of his father’s booming laugh and his mother’s soft smile. He had tried to stop feeling for so long, but Sophia had changed everything. She had made him feel alive again—with pain but there was also pleasure. Warmth. Hope.
“I still do not think the company is where I will be happy. For me it is still the pampas and the estancia. It is where I belong, Sophia.” He realized it was true. He was through with the city and boardrooms and suits and ties. Even if the Vista del Cielo wasn’t exactly as he remembered, he knew he wanted the wild freedom of the pampas, the simple evenings by the fire and the sound of the birds at the end of the day. But rejecting the life was different from rejecting the people, and he’d done both for too long. “But I need to mend things with my family. And it is you who has shown me that.”
Sophia looked up at him, in awe of the man he was, a man perhaps he did not even see. A man who had carried the heavy load of his burdens and responsibilities and sacrificed his own heart for it.
She stood from the bench, her damp jeans tight and uncomfortable on her legs, but that didn’t matter. Not at this moment, with this man. She knew the one thing he needed, because it was the one thing she’d needed her whole life long. She went to him, lifted her face to his and said simply, “I love you, Tomas.”
For a fleeting second, shock made a blank of his face as he seemed to struggle to understand. So she repeated it, this time in his own language: “Te amo, Tomas.”
He cupped her head in both hands and kissed her, a kiss full of love and wonder and pain and acceptance all at once. She twined her arms around his neck as his hands slid from her face down to her waist and pulled her close. She melted against him, wanting his kiss, his touch, to go on forever.
But it couldn’t, and knowing that added an urgency, a desperation to the way she pressed herself against him. Now she wished she’d made love to him while she’d had the chance. She wished she hadn’t been so afraid. It had nothing to do with losing her virginity. It was about wanting to be as close to someone as a person could be. It wasn’t about the physical, it was about loving him wholly.
Tomas’s hands settled on her hips and pushed her back slightly so that the kiss broke off. She was breathing heavily and Tomas’s chest rose and fell with effort, but it was the look in his eyes that undid her. It was yearning. The same yearning she’d been feeling only seconds before. She wasn’t afraid of it anymore. “Te amo, Sophia. And I never expected to love anyone ever again.”
He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I don’t want you to leave. I don’t know what the solution is, but I can’t bear to lose you. And we have so little time…”
“What are you asking, Tomas?” Say the words, she thought desperately. Say the words so I can say yes.
“Stay with me.”
“At the Vista del Cielo?”
“It is a lot to ask, I know. It doesn’t have to be there…”
“But you love it there, Tomas. It is where you belong.” She looked into his eyes, feeling love run through every pore. It didn’t matter that they’d known each other such a short time. They knew each other better than many did in a lifetime. “It is where I belong, too, if you are there.”
“I want you to make your own choice, Sophia. I love you, and it is not conditional. Nothing you can do or say will make me take it away. I need you to understand that.”
She nodded. “And you need to understand that this is me, making my own choice. I believe in you, Tomas. I found myself in your heart.” She put her hand on his chest, feeling the solid beat beneath her fingers. “As long as I am there, nothing else matters.”
“They will say we’re crazy…”<
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“It doesn’t matter what anyone says.”
Tomas linked his fingers with hers, and her heart was full when he knelt on one knee before her.
And it overflowed when he bowed his head and pressed his forehead to her hand for just a moment.
But when he looked up, it was with determination and love and hope in his eyes. “Marry me, Sophia. Marry me and I will spend the rest of my days making you happy.”
The falls roared, birds called and monkeys chattered in the trees, but Sophia heard nothing but the thunderous beat of her own heart as she flung herself into his arms.
“Yes,” she whispered, feeling the world tilt, shift and settle exactly where it was meant to be. “A million times, yes.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE dancing had already started when Tomas tugged on Sophia’s hand, drawing her into a shadowed corner of the patio. Beyond them, over the hill, the ombu tree stood guard, and all around them the air was colored by the sounds of friends and family, enjoying themselves at the celebration.
“Tomas,” Sophia insisted with a laugh, “we’re ignoring our guests.” But the protest was weak and in fun; she had been longing to be alone with him for many long and tedious minutes.
“I am only trying to sneak a private moment with my wife,” he persisted, and her resistance melted when he touched his lips to her neck.
“I can’t think when you do that.”
“Thinking is not required.”
That made her laugh. “You’re teasing me.”
With a groan, he let her go. “Only half. The other half is completely serious, querida.”
The day had been utterly perfect. It had seemed to take forever to arrive, though. They had spent the week after the trip to Iguazú in Argentina. First they had gone to Vista del Cielo to tell Maria and Carlos the news and ask if they could have the wedding at the estancia. That had been important to both of them, but Tomas especially felt he needed their blessing. Rosa had been their cherished girl. Without saying the words, they knew that the estancia had been refurbished in her memory. Maria had wept a little, but in happiness, because she and Sophia wanted the same thing—Tomas’s happiness. Sophia had been overwhelmed at their generosity, and after talking it over, they decided they would stay with Maria and Carlos while their own house was being built close to the creek. The guest ranch was about to turn the page to a new chapter and become a real family business.
Then there had been the trip to Ottawa, making arrangements to move or give away Sophia’s things and explaining the latest developments to her mother, Margaret. That meeting had been the most difficult, as Sophia had been honest with her mother for the first time. There had been tears and recriminations on both sides, but now things were beginning to heal. In the end Margaret had insisted that if Sophia were happy, that was all that mattered. Sophia had even convinced her mother to attend today.
Tomas had done some fence-mending of his own, reconciling with his parents. Today they’d taken Argentine tradition and given it a twist as Sophia had proceeded up the aisle escorted by Tomas’s father and Tomas had walked with Margaret.
Now the revelry was well in hand as a band played in the backyard and a massive asado fed the crowd that had come to celebrate.
“It has been the most beautiful day,” Sophia murmured. Tomas’s hand slid over her shoulder and down her arm, the contact soft and intimate.
“And you were a most beautiful bride,” he replied. “Too beautiful to resist, I think.”
He moved in for another kiss but the unstoppable Maria came around the corner and spied them cozying up in the shadows.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, shaking a finger at them. “You haven’t even danced yet. And there is the cutting of the cake.”
“Madre Maria,” Tomas began, but Sophia burst out laughing. Even now, Maria was still the boss, and ever would be.
She went forward to Maria and took the older woman’s hands. “If I haven’t said it yet, thank you for letting me be part of your family.”
“You are our daughter now,” Maria said, emotion thickening the words. “Nothing could have made me happier, Sophia. All is as it was meant to be.”
Unbelievably touched, Sophia leaned forward and kissed Maria’s cheek. “Do I need to call you Madre Maria, too, then?” Sophia smiled tenderly at her, understanding yet again why Tomas loved it here so much. It was the people, the family.
“Of course not. You call me Mama.”
Miguel came around the corner carrying a bottle of beer. “I thought I’d find you here in a dark corner.” He winked at Sophia and grinned at Tomas. “It’s time for the wedding couple’s first dance. If you don’t want to dance with your new wife, I will.”
“Not a chance, Miguel.”
Miguel laughed and the foursome made their way into the backyard again.
Lights dotted the scene and a fire burned brightly. Sophia and Tomas had insisted that a regular party at the estancia was what they wanted and it was exactly what they got—food and drink flowing freely, laughter and goodwill and fun. Tomas’s father was talking to Carlos and Margaret was chatting to a young professor of economics that Miguel had brought as his guest. It was a blend of old and new, tradition and innovation as the music changed. Tomas’s smile was wide as he wiggled his eyebrows and swung Sophia into his arms for a tango.
She put her hand on Tomas’s shoulder and admired the ring on her finger. Instead of a traditional band, Tomas had had one fashioned from platinum and amethyst to match the necklace he’d bought her. She wore both the necklace and earrings today, knowing they connected her past to her future.
“My beautiful bride,” Tomas said as they stepped to the music, their feet moving in a one…two…one two three rhythm and their bodies so close together a thread couldn’t pass between them. Sophia’s long skirt made swishing sounds on the short grass. “You are a princess today, Sophia. My beautiful, Argentine princess.”
She saw him looking at the tiara sitting atop her curls. “It was my mother’s. And Maria lent me her blue petticoat that she wore under her dress when she and Carlos married. Wasn’t that sweet?”
“Not as sweet as you,” he replied, gazing down at her with such adoration she felt her pulse give a kick.
“How much longer do we have to stay?” she murmured, and Tomas chuckled as he swung her in a turn and she slid her foot seductively up his leg. “Impatient?”
Their gazes clashed. “No more than you.”
His warm gaze darkened with what she knew now was an edge of desire. The thought no longer frightened her. She welcomed it. She tightened her fingers on the fabric of his jacket.
“You have learned the flavor of the tango well,” he murmured, his breath warm in her ear.
“I was well-motivated,” she returned, smiling saucily at him—the man whom she now called husband. “How long, Tomas?”
“Not long,” he said, putting his lips up to her ear. “The party will go on long after we disappear.”
When the dance ended, Maria herded them to a table holding the wedding cake with several ribbons cascading over its top. One by one the single women pulled on a ribbon, hoping to pick the one with a ring on its end, foretelling that they’d be the next to marry. When the winner happened to be Miguel’s colleague, Tomas burst out laughing and Miguel turned a telling shade of gray.
But then they said their goodbyes, and minutes later were heading back to San Antonio de Areco and the room Tomas had booked there.
The lobby was quiet as they checked in and Tomas held her hand as they made their way to their room. Once inside, Sophia felt nerves slide through her stomach as she took in the turned-down bed. This was her wedding night, and she was completely inexperienced. She wanted everything to be perfect and was entirely unsure how to make it happen.
But then she looked up at Tomas, who had taken off his tuxedo jacket and loosened his tie, and nerves gave way to certainty and then anticipation. This was the man she loved, and who loved her. Nothi
ng else mattered, except wanting to belong to him heart, soul and body. It had been so worth the wait.
She reached behind her and pulled the zipper running down the back of her dress. She stepped out of it, clad in Maria’s pale-blue petticoat. Tomas came forward and took her dress from her hands, draping it carefully over a chair. Then he came back and gently removed the tiara from her hair, putting it on the small table.
The nerves started jumping again, clamoring, demanding.
“Señora Mendoza,” Tomas said softly, taking her hands and holding them out to the side. “My beautiful wife. You do not need tiaras and fancy dresses. You are so beautiful, just as you are.”
“Oh, Tomas,” she sighed, still loving how he was able to woo her with his honesty. She stepped into his embrace. “We’ve waited so long,” she whispered hoarsely. “Make me your wife.”
With one fluid movement he had her in his arms, and he took her to the bed, laying her gently on the coverlet. “You are my wife,” he corrected. “And my life. And I’m going to spend the rest of my days proving it.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0204-7
HONEYMOON WITH THE RANCHER
First North American Publication 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Donna Alward
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
