Only A Whisper
Page 25
“Left hand, querida,“ he commanded, holding out his own, palm up.
She placed her hand in his, and he slid a ring on her third finger. It was a huge emerald, rectangular, and surrounded by diamonds. With a timelessly feminine gesture, Rae held her hand up to allow the jewel to catch the faint light.
“If you don’t like it, you may choose another. Whatever you wish. My feelings won’t be hurt, but I should warn you, my father’s probably will be.” The teasing note had returned to the richness of his voice.
“Why?” she asked cooperatively, very willing to again be teased.
“Because he owns the mine.”
“An emerald mine?” she asked.
“Emeralds are Colombia’s third-largest export product.”
“And you invest the money your family makes from mining emeralds?”
“And from the coffee.”
“Coffee?” she repeated softly.
“Our second-largest export.”
“What’s the first?” she asked, laughing.
“That, querida, my family does not deal in.” There was no longer any amusement in his voice.
Cocaine, she realized. Not a subject for laughter. Not for this man.
“Then you are Juan Valdez,” she said.
“My father,” Rafe assured her, smiling again. “I don’t even own a donkey.”
“Am I marrying money, Rafe? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“You’re marrying me. That’s all you get. But I don’t advise not liking the emerald.”
“I love the emerald.”
“Good. It’s always nice to have peace in the family. Now I think we should go inside. I have to warn you that sitting on these steps is not going to be conducive to my successfully making love to you.”
“No complaints,” she said, standing. “I never had any complaints.”
Rafe held out his hand. “You’d better help me up, querida, before I make a liar out of you.”
He had never before asked for her help, and she would never have dared offer it. She took his strong, dark hand and held it tightly a moment in both of hers before she laid her cheek against it.
“No more tears, my heart,” he ordered softly because he knew her so well.
“No,” she agreed. “No more tears. I have to call my mother, and she always knows when I’ve been crying.”
RAFE WAS WAITING in her bed when she got off the phone, the white pillows stacked again behind his broad shoulders. He had been massaging the muscles in his left thigh. His fingers hesitated when she entered the bedroom, but then, deliberately, he allowed them to continue the slow, rhythmic movement.
She sat down beside him on the edge of the bed and watched for a moment.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“The cane requires a different set of muscles. It’s just a cramp.”
She put her thumb on the hard quadriceps and pressed downward. She could feel the tightness.
“Here?” she questioned gently.
His hand hesitated over hers, and then he directed her fingers lower.
“There,” he said.
She pressed both thumbs along the length of the cramping muscle and heard his small, sighing groan. She massaged deeply for a long time, using all the strength in her hands, working to relieve the tightness. When she glanced up, his eyes were closed, his head resting back against the pillows.
“Better?” she asked.
He opened his eyes and smiled at her, but instead of answering, he inquired, “What did your mother say?”
“That she wants some grandbabies before she gets too old to enjoy them,” Rae admitted.
He didn’t say anything else for a long time, and she continued to work on his leg. Gradually, she felt the tension relaxing under her hands, and she knew that the pain, too, would ease.
“Grandbabies?” he repeated finally.
She nodded, her eyes still on her hands, moving over the hair-roughened thigh.
Suddenly his long, dark fingers closed over hers.
“Querida,” he said. It was a command.
She looked up. Her fingers curled involuntarily around his hand at what she read in his face.
“I love you, Rae,” he whispered. “I have loved you so long, my heart. Since one cold, dark night a long time ago in Virginia.”
She nodded again, not trusting her control. She leaned against his chest, and his arms encircled her, holding tightly. His cheek rested against the top of her head.
“Come to bed, Rae,” he invited softly. “Your mama is apparently working on some kind of deadline.” Amusement again enriched the beautiful voice, his teasing as familiar now as the slight accent. And as beloved.
She reached to turn off the light on the table beside the bed and then, her hands on his shoulders for balance, she moved one knee to the other side of his narrow hips. Slowly she lowered her body over his until she rested against the hard chest, his arms enclosing her slender frame.
“Querida,” he breathed into the darkness as she began to move above him.
And the word was again only a whisper.
eISBN 978-14592-7575-1
ONLY A WHISPER
Copyright © 1996 by Mona Gay Thomas
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All characters In this book have no existence outside the Imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Table of Contents
Cover Page
Table of Contents
Excerpt
About the Author
Books by Gayle Wilson
Dedication
Cast of Characters
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Copyright