Under Her Skin

by Lea Santos

  Or my conscience.

  “I came to see where you work,” Iris said lightly. Her eyes conveyed a different tone. I’m sorry.

  I am, too, mi ángel, whispered Torien’s mind. But nothing has changed. She swept her hand in a listless arc in front of her body. “So…here it is.”

  Iris crossed her arms, taking it in. She nodded with approval. “Looks like it’s coming along.”

  “Yes.” Dear God, Torien thought, suppressing an internal groan. This small talk could be the death of her. When Madeira approached, relief filtered through Torien like rain through loose soil. She and Iris both turned toward the younger Pacias.

  Madeira smacked Torien in the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Aren’t you going to introduce your favorite sister to this lovely lady, Toro?”

  Torien braced herself. “Iris Lujan, my troublemaking headache of a sister, Madeira. Mosquito, this is Iris Lujan, who is a proper lady, so none of your usual behavior.”

  “You insult me,” Madeira said, clearly not insulted at all.

  Iris extended her hand and favored Madeira with a warm smile. “Madeira. I like that name. It’s so nice to meet you. Please call me Iris.”

  “I would say the pleasure is all mine”—Madeira angled her head toward Toro and lowered her tone—“but we can all see the goofy look on Toro’s face, so it would be a lie.”

  Torien frowned. “¡Cállate!”

  Madeira laughed off Torien’s stiff discomfort. “You always tell me to shut up when I hit a nerve, sister. I’ve told you that before. You’re like an open book.” She directed her attention back to Iris. “What brings you to El Proyecto de Arco Iris?”

  Iris bent her head forward, her lush black hair tumbling over one shoulder, and fished in the pocket of her jeans. Extracting a square of newsprint, she held it up. “I read about the project needing more volunteers.” A pause. “I’m here to lend a hand.”

  Madeira whipped an excited glance to the rest of the workers. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she announced, “Iris Lujan is going to work with us, amigos y amigas!”

  Cheers rose, and Torien watched the dusky blush climb Iris’s neck and color her cheeks, wishing she’d put that blush into her complexion in another way. But Torien couldn’t take away from the moment. Bright-eyed and smiling, Iris basked in the ready acceptance of the group. Torien had never seen her looking happier or more beautiful.

  But—wait. What had Iris said?

  Quickly replaying it in her mind, she heard the words again. Stunned, Torien gaped. “Say that again. You are here for what?” she rasped, the words harsh after all the hearty welcomes from the others.

  Iris’s gaze came back to Torien, on an even level with her own. Steady, but not quite as confident as she would have liked Torien to believe. “I want to work with you, Tori. With the group.” She set her jaw stubbornly as though daring Torien to deny her. “It’s a worthwhile project. I’d like to donate my time.”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  Iris’s faltering bravado showed in the slight quiver of her chin. “Why not?”

  “Why not? It’s obvious,” Torien sputtered, flailing to make sense. “Your time is more valuable, Iris. You have…you have—”

  “My time? That’s your argument? And, what—yours isn’t valuable?” Iris pointed toward different people in the group, one by one. “Or her time? His? Madeira’s? Isn’t their time worth as much as mine?”

  “That’s…that’s not what I meant.” Torien’s jaw went rigid. She would never insult the volunteers, or her sister. Blood pounded in her ears. “I am only saying—”

  “It’s my time, Tori, valuable or not, and I want to spend it here.” She smiled, sweet and steely at once. “Okay?”

  “No, not okay.” Torien inched closer, her tone low. Urgent. “This isn’t the kind of work for you, and you know it.”

  “And that’s the real reason you don’t want me to stay?” Her gaze, hot and wanting, dropped to Torien’s lips.

  God, Torien felt it like a touch…a kiss. An unexpected nibble. It swirled inside her, a raging storm.

  “Or,” Iris added, “is there something else beneath the surface?”

  One corner of Torien’s mouth lifted as the sensual hurricane moved low in her body. “Believe me, Irisíta. You don’t want to know what’s beneath the surface.”

  Iris shook her head slowly, chin lifted, expression burning with challenge. “Honey,” she whispered, “that right there is where you’re dead wrong.”

  That hurricane touched down, and white-hot desire flashed inside Torien. She scraped her bottom lip between her teeth, gratified to see the minute widening of Iris’s eyes, the quickened rise and fall of her chest. Torien allowed herself another slow, deep drink of Iris’s nearness, making sure to leave no doubt about her feelings, her almost debilitating desire. The hunger that could not be slaked. “You remember what I said about playing with fire, mi ángel, no?”

  “I remember.” Iris leaned in. “I guess I didn’t mention that danger is my middle name.”

  Danger. Iris had no idea how close to the mark she’d struck. Enough! Torien must stay strong. Toying with Iris like this, teasing them both, would only lead to disaster. She didn’t want to push too far and realize her breaking point. Stepping closer yet, Torien whispered, “It’s a mistake, you coming here.”

  “I disagree.” Iris crossed her arms. “You said yourself you appreciated my help in Moreno’s garden. I’m not so helpless.”

  Confusion clouded Torien. “I have never thought you helpless. That is not the point, and you know it.”

  “Toro. ¡Basta!” Madeira stepped into the conversation, looking at Torien as if she had three evil heads. “You told me yourself we needed more help. Why are you acting like this, embarrassing the lady and yourself?”

  Torien ignored the zing of shame, snapping her hand out flat. “Don’t interfere in a situation you know nothing about, Mosquito.” She flashed her sister a warning glare. “Iris Lujan should not be cleaning up trash and broken concrete, pounding in fence rails and working in the soil. You know it as well as I.”

  Madeira jerked her chin in Iris’s direction, her gaze challenging and serious. “She looks like a grown woman to me. Don’t you think she knows her own mind? What if she wants to work with the project?”

  “Yeah, what if I want to?” Bolstered by Madeira’s support, Iris stood straighter, stronger still. She cocked her head to the side, same as she had that day in the sotechado, when she’d caught Torien half-dressed. Holding up the newspaper ad Torien had placed herself, Iris arched one eyebrow. “It says here you are short of workers. Is that true?” A tense moment yawned between them. “Tori? Is it true?” she asked again. “Yes or no.”

  Damnit. Iris had her in a no-win predicament again. If Torien refused her help, she would look ungracious in front of Iris, Madeira, and the entire team of laborers. If she accepted, she would have to survive Iris’s intoxicating presence both here and at Moreno’s, knowing she could not have her. Could never have her. Even knowing she wanted Iris more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.

  “We’ll help her if you don’t want to,” Madeira said, referring to herself and three others who were planting trees and setting sandstone stepping stones.

  Torien blinked at her sister, distracted. Unbelievably uncomfortable.

  “Did you hear me? Iris can work with us,” Madeira added, in a rough, almost disgusted tone. “We’ll take care of her, since you don’t seem up to the task. Whatever she needs.”

  Torien pressed her lips in a grim line before locking eyes with this woman who was slowly but surely capturing her soul, making her doubt everything steady upon which she had based her life. She felt as if she were standing along the ocean shore, and Iris was the deceptively warm, dangerously strong undertow threatening to pull her legs out from under her. Part of Torien wanted to let go and be swept into the ocean of feelings for Iris. Another part wanted to wrench from her heady grasp and scramble fo
r the safety of dry, solid land.

  The safety of the known.

  Defeated, she traced the soft curves of Iris’s face with her eyes. “What are you doing, Irisíta?”

  “Something worthwhile, just like you. I’m coming to work.” A beat passed. “Just like you.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and lifted her chin defiantly, her tone low enough that only Torien could hear her words. “Maybe someday this whole absurd tug-of-war will help you realize we are more alike than different. Toro.”

  Turning heel, Iris joined Madeira and the other laborers—her new coworkers. Torien could do nothing but stand helplessly and watch her go. After a long, pain-wrought moment, she turned back to her own work. Bewildered. Frustrated. Wanting…

  Fine.

  Damnit, fine.

  Iris could stay if she insisted.

  But the slightest bit of impropriety could ruin them. Iris might not want to face that fact, but Torien must. For both of them. No matter what it took, she must resist Iris as if her very life depended on it, because, in truth, it very well might.

  Struggling against Iris’s fierce undertow, Torien trudged back to the safe, dry land she had grown used to…had grown into. The only bit of stability she knew.

  Chapter Six

  “How’s it going, Iris?”

  “Great,” she said, in a falsely upbeat tone. Two days had passed since she’d joined the project, and her and Madeira’s little plan to throw her together with Torien was failing. Miserably. Torien had hardly come near her, barely looked at her. Iris was all too aware that her vacation was rushing to an end, and she couldn’t think of a single way to stop time.

  She looked up at Madeira staring down at her, blocking the sun, which had been dipping in and out of the gloomy clouds all day. Much like her emotions. She had begun to accept that her yearning for Torien was solidly one-sided, her pursuit the futile stuff of a schoolgirl’s crush. The only problem was, she didn’t think she would recover from this as quickly as she had from the crushes of her youth.

  She blinked up at Madeira again as she loomed above her, arms crossed, biceps bulging, a sympathetic smile on her face. Embarrassment suffused Iris for having dragged Madeira into this hot mess. “We’re getting a lot done,” Iris said brightly, referring to the project.

  Madeira lowered to the ground and sat cross-legged in front of her, elbows on her knees and fingers steepled against her lips. After a moment, Madeira said, “I meant, how are things going with my bullheaded sister?”

  “Oh. That.” Humiliation swept Iris’s gaze to the ground. She shrugged, trying to keep the brittle, shaky smile pasted on her face. “Okay, I guess. I’m still here.” She tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding more like a nerve-shot sob. Damn. Madeira was far too attuned to others’ emotions to have missed it, and Iris cringed inwardly.

  “Has she spoken to you?”

  Iris hedged. “Some.” A moment passed, and her tone came out sounding less enthusiastic. “Actually…not really.”

  “¡Maldita sea!” Madeira ground her teeth, her fists clenching vigorously. “I swear, I could kill her.”

  “No, please. Don’t be angry.” Iris reached out and squeezed Madeira’s tight knuckles, then folded her hands listlessly in her lap. “We made a mistake trying to force things, Madi. Your sister isn’t interested.”

  “No. She is. I can see it. I know it.”

  The burn of unshed tears assaulted Iris’s nose, but she struggled for a breezy tone, unwilling to allow Madeira to blame herself for this debacle. “Let’s just forget it, okay? I’m enjoying working on the project, and that’s really the point.”

  “It’s not the point.”

  “Well, it has become the point. Besides…” Iris trailed off, cold claws of anxiety stabbing her chest. She slanted Madeira a worried glance, but couldn’t bear to continue. She had hoped the little fantasy about her and Torien hooking up—falling in love, even—would work out, that she wouldn’t have to tell Madeira she was only in Denver temporarily. Now she knew the whole thing had been just that—a fantasy—and she had to come clean, like it or not.

  Her hands trembled. Would Madeira think Iris had deceived her? That she was a pure, selfish idiot for trying to get close to Torien when Jolie Cosmetique virtually owned her life? Would Madi imagine Iris had only been out for a quick, meaningless fling with Torien, the woman for whom she obviously cared so deeply?

  No. Couldn’t happen. Iris simply must convince Madi that wasn’t true.

  Just spit it out. With a deep, stabilizing breath, she launched. “Madeira, I should have told you this before, but, um…”

  “What?”

  “I…I have an assignment,” she whispered, moisture pooling in her eyes. “For work.”

  Maderia’s expression brightened. “That’s wonderful!”

  “No.” She waved off the praise. “Not so much. Let me finish.” A pause ensued. “It’s a three-year gig, and”—she swallowed—“it’s in…France.”

  Madeira’s face slackened with dismay. “Oh, no.”

  “I know. Between you and me, I’m not looking forward to it. Don’t get me wrong—it’s a dream job. One I would’ve killed for ten years ago.” She bit her lip and begged forgiveness with her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought…oh, I don’t know what I thought. Doesn’t matter, though. I should have told you from the very beginning.”

  After a moment, Madeira’s mouth closed, and she swallowed convulsively. “When must you go?”

  “Three weeks,” Iris said, barely audible. “A little less, actually. I signed the contract months ago, before Tori and I even met, but I’d been wrestling with it for a long time. Wrestling with my life. Then I met your sister and you”—she smiled—“all of you, and I stopped thinking about it for a bit. I wanted to…forget. But it’s there. Like a vulture, picking over the bones of my world. And…I have to go.” Iris traced small heart shapes in the soil with one finger. “Which I guess won’t matter anyway.”

  Silence hung between them for several moments.

  “Iris, can I ask you something?”

  She nodded.

  Madeira’s eyes searched her face. “If things were different with Torien…would you still go?”

  Iris’s heart began pounding toward an unexpected crescendo, harder and louder until she could scarcely hear her own thoughts. She had been truthful with Madeira about her feelings from the beginning. Why stop now?

  Shaking her head, she said, “I would have found a way to stay. Ridiculous, I know. I’m getting way ahead of myself, of this whole…crazy thing.” She watched Madi for long, pained moments. “I…I guess I was grasping.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Iris flipped her hand, a weak, ineffectual motion, which was exactly how she felt. “It’s not all about Torien. My family is here, too, and leaving them has always been hard.” But Torien would have been the perfect excuse to break that contract and stay. “The thing is, something’s been missing in my life for a long time, and I never could pinpoint what it was. Until I met your sister.” Iris scrunched her nose. “Does that sound stupid?”

  “Not at all.”

  As relief drained through her like cool peppermint, Iris twisted her mouth to the side. “That mysterious missing thing? Now I know what it was, thanks to Tori. But”—she sighed—“it doesn’t look like that’s going to pan out.”

  Madeira scrubbed her hands over her face, pushing a rough breath through her fingers.

  “Look, it doesn’t matter,” Iris tried to assure her, wondering if she should have tempered her honesty a bit. “I appreciate your help more than you know. But I shouldn’t look to Tori as my proverbial knight in shining armor. If I want to change my life, I have to do it.”

  “True, but if Toro knew—”

  “No,” Iris said in a rush. “Torien has enough responsibility as it is without worrying how her decisions will affect me. I’m a grown woman. You said it yourself. If she knew about my dilemma, she’d probably pretend to b
e interested in me, just to make my choice easier. Tori has to want me for me or not at all.” Iris smiled sadly, then squeezed Maderia’s arm with affection that was easy to give. “Please don’t tell her.”

  “I won’t. Don’t worry.”

  “Promise me.” Iris bit her lip until it stung.

  Madeira nodded. “If you make me one promise, too.”

  “Anything,” Iris said.

  Madeira clasped Iris’s hand between both of hers, eyes beseeching. “Don’t give up on Toro. Not yet.”

  *

  “She is doing a good job, Toro.”

  The words at the back of her neck brought Torien’s head around.

  Madeira gave a small nod in Iris’s direction then added almost belligerently, “Don’t you agree?”

  Torien had been so caught up in staring at Iris engaged in easy camaraderie with Rubén and Natán, she had not heard her sister approach. “Mmm,” she grunted, refocusing on her work. She hadn’t been in a talkative mood for days. A trickle of sweat traveled the length of her spine, despite the massive thunderheads that striped the worksite with shadows.

  “Is that a yes?” Madeira demanded.

  “Yes, Mosquito, it is,” she said in exasperation, wondering why Madeira was so damn angry.

  “Have you told her she’s doing a good job?”

  The motion of Torien’s hands stilled while she forced her words into a patient tone. “No, I have not told her. I’ve been a little busy, if you haven’t noticed.” For two days, Iris had worked with them. For two excruciating days, Torien had ached for her company yet denied herself the pleasure of it simply to keep the world spinning as it should. If anyone had a right to feel testy, it was she.

  Though Iris worked no more than fifty feet away, it felt like a continent separated them, and jealousy spiked every time she thought of her laughing and working alongside the other volunteers. But she had planted herself into this position, and the roots ran deep. If she had welcomed Iris like they had, Iris might be working next to her, like she had at Moreno’s what seemed…a lifetime ago.