“I know you have a lot to deal with. The recital, your concerns about Reynaldo’s health. I’m sorry to add to it.”
“You’re not. Honestly, this gives me something to focus on other than Papi’s refusal to have more treatment.”
“So-o-o . . .” Tomás drew out the word as if trying to decide how to proceed. His thumb caressed the back of her hand and her stomach tightened with need. “Reynaldo talked to you about his health?”
Once again, dread circled over her like a hungry vulture. “The girls and I spoke with him yesterday before Lilí left. Rosa stayed till this morning so we could try and talk some sense into him. Right now we’re waiting for more tests.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this.” His voice deepened with regret and he squeezed her hand. “It’s got to be difficult.”
She nodded dumbly, unable to do much more while his thumb played havoc with her sanity. A soft brush to the right. A warm caress to the left.
A simple gesture that had her tingling with pleasure and anticipation.
“Will you let me know when you hear anything?”
“Um, sure.” She needed to pull her hand from his. Stop the foolishness. Only, she couldn’t bring herself to break their connection. Not yet. “Thanks for checking on Papi while you were out of town. It meant a lot to him.”
“I was worried.” Tomás lifted his broad shoulders in an easy shrug. “He reminds me of my dad—you know, good solid man, devoted to his family, hardheaded at times.”
“Yeah, that’s him.” They shared a smile, the thread of their mutual love for their parents tying them together.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, the concern in his gravelly voice another gentle caress to her stressed soul.
The sting of tears burned her eyes. Tears of frustration that Papi’s cancer might still be a threat. Tears over her desire for dreams she couldn’t have. Tears for those dreams she wasn’t sure she wanted any longer. Yaz closed her eyes against the harsh reality of it all.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,” Tomás whispered. “Es mucho.”
Yaz shook her head, confused about so many things, but somehow certain that helping his family would help her, too. “No, it’s not too much. In fact, it’s a great idea. Seriously. Papi enjoys spending time with Maria. It’ll help keep my mind off things I can’t control and alleviate some of your stress. I’ll be all right. I can handle it. I’m a big girl.”
“A big girl with big goals. I remember. But you remember, if there’s anything I can do to help, only say the word. I mean it.”
He tugged her hand and she suddenly found herself in his embrace. Her breath hitched in her chest, every nerve-ending in her entire body going haywire.
His strong arms wrapped around her and it felt oh so natural to rest her head on his shoulder, encircle his waist with her arms. Revel in the thrill of his firm body against hers.
For a second she swore he pressed a kiss to her head. Then he pulled back and she figured it must have been wishful thinking on her part.
“I mean it,” he said, “anything at all, understood?”
Again, she nodded mutely.
He released her and Yaz grabbed onto her purse strap with both hands to keep from reaching out to him. The urge to lean on the support and strength he offered overwhelmed her, nearly sucking away all rational thought.
She couldn’t give in to it. Couldn’t allow herself to.
“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow,” she whispered, backing out of the kitchen.
“Let me walk you out,” Tomás offered.
“No need. I know the way.”
In a lust-induced haze she made a beeline toward the foyer. Toward Papi and, ultimately, toward the future he wanted for her in New York.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like if instead she was headed back to the master bedroom with Tomás. If they were crawling into his bed together.
Dios, she knew it would feel so good.
Right up to the moment when it ended.
Which it inevitably would when she left.
Yaz pulled the front door closed behind her with a decisive click. She leaned back against it, taking a deep breath of the frigid, early December air. These fruitless schoolgirl fantasies had to stop.
Tomorrow she’d do well to remember her place in his family dynamic and the promise she’d made to Papi a long time ago.
Chapter Eight
Tomás approached the Fernandez’s front door, biting back a tired sigh. Eight thirty on a Friday was way too late to be getting home.
He dragged a hand through his hair, dropping it down to rub the ever-present kink in his neck. Everyone in his office stood on notice: The Linton Jewelry account was a must-win.
He truly believed no one else could put together a better proposal than he could. Still, he had promised Yaz he’d do his best not to pull such late hours. This was a horrible way to end her first week as Maria’s temporary nanny.
The cold winter wind kicked up and he burrowed deeper into his wool coat, stiffly raising his arm to knock.
Moments later Maria called out, “Who is it?”
The sound of her high-pitched voice relaxed his shoulders. “The big bad wolf, freezing in this cold weather!”
The door swung open and Reynaldo stood on the other side, Maria peeking out from behind him.
“Papá! You’re home! Come look what Señor Fernandez is sharing with me.”
Before Tomás could answer, Maria spun on her stockinged feet and ran back into the family room.
Rey waved him in. “Come inside, m’ijo. We’re letting the heat out.”
Tomás followed the older man, stopping to hook his jacket and scarf on the wooden coatrack. “My apologies for being so late. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you.”
“No, no, está bien. Yazmine had a private lesson with one of her older students. Something about rehearsing for a college audition.” Rey ushered him into the family room. “Maria and I have been fine. Right, nena?”
“Sí. Mira, Papá. Look what we have.”
Maria knelt by the wooden coffee table in front of the couch where a bounty of pictures and show Playbills were spread out. An empty plastic bin lay on the hardwood floor next to the table.
Tomás moved closer.
“It’s all stuff about Ms. Yazmine,” Maria explained. “From her dance shows and parties. Doesn’t she look beautiful?”
“Sit down while I heat up your dinner. Maria can show you what we have been digging through.” Rey motioned at the couch as he crossed the dining room into the kitchen.
“You don’t have to do that,” Tomás called after him.
“Yazmine left a plate for you. No es ningún problema.”
The microwave’s beeping and his past experience with Rey’s stubbornness let Tomás know it wouldn’t do any good to argue that he could serve himself.
“Here she’s playing dress-up at a party.” Maria held out a picture of Yazmine wearing an old-timey cigarette-girl costume. A short black skirt hit her mid-thigh, revealing a pair of sexy legs in fishnet stockings. Stiletto heels highlighted her shapely calves and a bustier accentuated her tiny waist and eye-catching cleavage. A box filled with movie theater candy hung from a strap around her neck to complete the outfit.
Man, if she came knocking on his door for Halloween, candy would be the last thing on his mind.
“And here she’s at dance class with her friends.”
Maria ate one of the little flower cookies Rey must have put in a small bowl for her, then handed Tomás another picture. This one had been taken in a room much like the ones at Hanson’s Academy of Dance, only these students were all adults. Their sculpted dancer figures sported the usual leotards, tights, filmy skirts, and some type of jazz shoe he’d seen the older girls wearing at Hanson’s. Still, it was Yaz who grabbed his attention.
Her engaging smile and the light in her caramel eyes inevitably called to him, invited him closer, overs
hadowed everyone else in the photo. The saucy curve of her lips hinted at her quick wit and fun-loving attitude. The one that made her students love her, and drew him to her.
Or maybe it was the way she didn’t pull any punches. Or the flare of heat her touch ignited inside him. Like it had last night in his kitchen.
Whatever the hell had possessed him to hug her? One minute he’d been comforting her. The next he was grabbing her like a besotted teen.
What he couldn’t deny was that when she was around, good or bad, for the first time in a long while he felt alive.
“Here you are.” Reynaldo strode into the room carrying a TV tray with a plate of food and a glass of tea.
“Gracias.” Tomás took the proffered tray, his mouth watering when he got a whiff of the spaghetti and meatballs. “Did the three of you spend the evening reminiscing?”
“Ay no, Yazmine hasn’t wanted to look at those pictures in a while. Ever since she got home, really. I took them out to show the little one after Yazmine left for her lesson. It kept Maria busy, while I rested on the couch.”
The older man slowly eased himself down into the nearby recliner, his body sinking into the cushions on a heavy sigh. Fatigue weighed down Rey’s features, carving deep grooves on either side of his mouth.
“How about this, Papá?”
Tomás glanced at the photo Maria handed him. In this one Yaz wore a dark red strapless cocktail dress. The glittery material skimmed her trim figure, accentuating enough to put a man’s imagination in overdrive.
He tore his gaze from Yaz to the man beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist. One of Yaz’s hands was pressed to the guy’s broad chest, her head leaning against his shoulder. They seemed close, comfortable with each other. Yaz’s smile shone in her eyes, her happiness evident in her broad grin.
The man had more of a football player’s than a dancer’s physique—wide shoulders, muscular arms, well over six foot. Whoever this guy was—friend, lover?—Yazmine looked pleased to be with him.
“Doesn’t she look pretty?” Maria asked.
“Let me see, nena.” Rey held his hand out for the picture.
She slid the photo across the table to him.
“That’s Yaz and Jeremy. Nice young man, very smart. His family is from Chicago, but he works with a computer company in New York.”
Tomás refused to voice his question about this mystery man. Or allow himself to care. Instead he concentrated on a topic that should be more important to him than Yaz’s love life. “How are you doing, Rey? Have you spoken with your doctor this week?”
Rey grimaced. “We did the tests. I should know more when all my girls are home for the holidays.”
“I’ll be praying for good news.”
“Me too.” Rey’s chest rose and fell on a heavy sigh that spoke volumes about his concern. “It is a comfort knowing that if my Yazmine needs anything, she can count on you. Right, h’ijo?”
The question hit with bulls-eye accuracy, forcing Tomás to face a reality he hadn’t wanted to deal with. Now that their lives were so intertwined, there was no way he could keep his distance from Yaz. He’d have to stay on his guard to avoid getting hurt.
“Of course. Anything Yazmine or your other girls need, I’m there.”
“Te lo agradezco.” Rey leaned back and set his chair to rock with his feet as he repeated, “I really appreciate it.”
His appetite gone, Tomás rose to take his half-eaten plate of food to the kitchen.
It seemed like he took one step away from Yaz and temptation, only to be reeled back in by the crappy situations life kept throwing at them.
Dios, don’t let his promise to Rey come back to haunt him.
* * *
Her cell phone displayed 9:47 p.m. by the time Yazmine slid into her car in Hanson’s parking lot. She waved good-bye to Suzie, waited for the teen to drive away, then tapped the icon to access her voice mail.
Her breath hitched when Tomás’s rich baritone spoke in her ear, apologizing for being so late tonight. His tone was dull, tired. Slightly discouraged even.
None of those were something she recalled hearing in his voice over the past week that she’d been caring for Maria. Maybe the afternoon team meeting he’d mentioned this morning hadn’t gone well.
Before she thought twice about it, she hit “call back.” Seconds later he picked up.
“Yaz?”
“The one and only.”
Even his chuckle sounded weary.
“I got your voice mail. Long day?”
“Exceedingly. Finished with your lesson?”
“Yeah, I’m headed home now.” She anchored the phone against her shoulder to buckle her seat belt. “Papi’s probably sleeping, so I thought I’d check in with you, make sure everything was okay when you picked up Maria.”
“She was fine. Thanks for dinner. Sorry again for running late.”
“No worries.” Through the phone she heard the sound of liquid being poured.
“I was getting ready to have a glass of wine to cap off the evening,” Tomás said. “Care to join me?”
About to turn her key in the ignition, Yaz paused.
That was a loaded question.
All week she’d done a decent job of keeping her thoughts about him on a platonic level, which hadn’t been easy after their touchy-feely moment in the kitchen that first night. It probably wasn’t a good idea to push her luck by saying yes.
“You still there?” Tomás asked.
“Oh, sorry, I’m getting settled in my car. Are you drinking white or red?”
“Picky, picky.”
More like biding her time. He had no idea how tempted she was to bag all her good intentions and say yes.
“Come over.”
“It’s a little late, don’t you think?” Lame argument.
“Please, it’s not even ten,” he shot back, his tone daring her. “Besides, it’ll give us a chance to evaluate how the week went.”
Okay, that put a new twist on the invitation. This was shoptalk. Babysitting, work, nothing personal. She could handle that.
“I’ll be there in ten. And if you have a Riesling, I’ll take a glass.”
The sound of his rich laughter brought a smile of pleasure to her face. She disconnected the call, then put her car in gear.
Chapter Nine
Within minutes Yaz pulled up in front of Tomás’s house. The porch light welcomed her, but other than a faint glow through the living room window, the rest of the house remained dark. A shiver trembled across her shoulders at the clandestine feel.
Common sense let out one last war cry, clamoring for her to call Tomás back with some excuse to cancel.
Her less sane side prevailed.
Head ducked down against the cold, wishing she hadn’t forgotten her earmuffs at home or that she’d grabbed a thicker scarf, she scurried up the front walk. One deep breath later and she was rapping lightly on his front door.
“Your Riesling, señorita,” he greeted, holding out a wineglass for her.
“Ooh, you’re good. But let me in first.” She brushed past him into the entryway so he could close the door behind her. “It’s freezing out there.”
“They’re calling for snow over the next few days. Thankfully it’s warm and toasty in here. Come in.”
She hung her peacoat in the hall closet, deciding to keep her scarf on until she warmed up, then followed him to the family room where a fire blazed, lending heat and an air of intimacy.
Two new throws draped the back of the navy leather sofa and loveseat, and a bottle of wine nestled in an ice bucket on the coffee table. Jazz music trilled in the background, adding to the room’s cozy atmosphere.
If Tomás hadn’t made it clear he wasn’t interested over lunch at Luigi’s, not to mention his repeated use of the word “friend” during the past week, she might have wondered at his motives. Frankly, the only thing she probably had to worry about was her own imagination going wild.
“Have a seat.
” Tomás set her wineglass on the coffee table and sank into one corner of the couch.
Yaz followed suit, choosing the opposite end. Making herself comfortable, she pulled a throw over her legs before reaching for her drink. “Were you having Riesling already, or did you open a bottle for my benefit?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His dimple winked at her with his grin.
Dios mío, there was no way he could be any more handsome.
She cautioned herself to keep her focus. Babysitting, work schedule. Mundane topics. “So, how was your day?”
“Man . . .” Tomás rubbed the back of his neck, his face pained. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help. This is about the worst time in my career for me to have this kind of distraction from work.”
Yaz took a sip of her drink, feeling the heat as the sweet liquid warmed its way down her throat.
The firelight flickered, sending undulating waves of light and darkness over him in a sensual dance. He’d swapped his business suit for a pair of faded jeans and a tan-colored sweater. With his stockinged feet propped up on the coffee table, he looked comfy, sexy. Dangerous.
“I had every intention of leaving the office at a decent hour,” he said.
“Uh-huh. I’m sure.”
“No, seriously. This isn’t workaholic denial talking. We had a meeting about a potential account that’s pretty big and it ran way later than any of us anticipated.”
Starting to feel warm, Yaz untied her scarf and laid it over the back of the sofa. This was the first time all week they’d had time to talk about more than Maria’s care. She settled into the cushions, enjoying the chance to hear him share about his work.
“If we can land the Linton account it would be a real coup for our agency.”
She sat up in surprise. “As in, the Linton Jewelry?”
A corner of his mouth curved up at her obvious awe. “Yep. The Linton Jewelry.”
“I gotta say, now I’m impressed. From here to New York, everyone’s heard of Linton’s.”
“And my plan is to grow it coast to coast. That’s why this proposal has to be brilliant. Classy. Timeless. Every word that comes to mind when you think of Linton Jewelry, only bigger. Bolder. And at the same time, more memorable.” His passion for his job came to life in the animation on his face, the determination glinting in his dark eyes. “This account will put our agency on the map. I’m talking, huge!”
His Perfect Partner Page 11
