Harvest Moon

by Rochelle Alers

  Curving her arms around Aaron’s strong neck, Regina pressed her mouth to his ear. “I have something to tell you,” she whispered quietly.

  Pulling back slightly, he stared down at her mysterious expression. “What?”

  “Estou grávida,” she confessed in Portuguese.

  He withdrew from her warm flesh, reaching for her shoulders at the same time and pulling her to sit across his lap. He stared at her, complete surprise on his face.

  “What did you say?”

  “I’m pregnant,” she repeated in English.

  Aaron gave her a narrow, glinting look, and she silently berated herself for telling him about the baby. She had made a mistake. She never should have come to Brazil.

  Pulling away from him, she attempted to scramble off the bed, but was thwarted when he curved an arm around her waist, not allowing her to escape him. He released her body, then captured her head between his large hands. There was no mistaking the smile of extreme joy lighting up his dark eyes.

  “Oh, Princesa. You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.”

  Regina collapsed against his chest in relief. “You want this baby?”

  Running his fingers through her shortened curls, he wagged his head. “You beautiful, silly goose. What made you think I wouldn’t?”

  She shrugged a bare, slender shoulder. “I don’t know.” Her voice was muffled in his chest. “You just seemed so stunned.”

  He laughed softly. “Of course I was stunned. I’m still stunned.”

  Her soft laugh joined his. “You hit the jackpot the first time we made love.”

  “I hit the jackpot the day I met you,” he countered.

  She curved into the comforting warmth of his body and closed her eyes. “What do you want, Aaron? Boy or a girl?”

  “It doesn’t matter as long as it’s healthy. Speaking of healthy, I assume you’ve seen an obstetrician.”

  “Yes.”

  “When are you due?”

  “June twelfth.”

  “Perfect timing. We’ll be harvesting this year’s coffee crop in late April and early May.”

  “I won’t be here for the harvesting.”

  He froze. “Why not?”

  “I’m only staying three months.”

  Easing back, he stared at her as if he had never seen her before. “You can’t!”

  “I’m here on a ninety-day visa.”

  “You can always renew the damn visa. We’ll travel to Argentina, then reenter the country with another ninety-day visa.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t go back.”

  “I have to, Aaron. I want my child born on U.S. soil.”

  “It won’t matter where the baby is born. Both of us are United States citizens.”

  “I can’t stay,” she argued.

  “If it’s a question of citizenship or the renewal of visas, we can always get around that by getting married.”

  She felt a fist of disappointment squeeze her heart when he mentioned marriage. He claimed he loved her, but had only mentioned marriage when she spoke of leaving him. He had equated marriage to a form of proprietorship. He wanted to hold on to her the way he held onto his coffee plantation—with a license or a deed.

  Her gaze did not waver as she caught and held his. “I will stay six months, Aaron. Don’t ask me to promise more than that. Then I’m going back to Florida to have my baby. I will schedule my return for the first week in May.”

  Aaron struggled to control his temper. “Oh, now it’s your baby,” he drawled sarcastically.

  “Don’t fight me,” she warned softly.

  “Fight? I’ll make you sorry you ever drew a breath if you try keeping my child from me, Senhora Spencer.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she went to her knees. “Don’t ever threaten me—”

  “Or what?” he said, cutting her off. “You’ll tell your rich and powerful father that I threatened his little girl?”

  The very air around them was electrified with a tension thick enough to swallow them whole, neither willing to concede as they stared at each other.

  Regina couldn’t believe how their red, hot passion had turned to red, hot fury. Tilting her chin in a haughty gesture, she slid gracefully off the bed. Unmindful of her nakedness, she folded her hands on her hips.

  “Please show me to a bathroom where I can wash before I get dressed.”

  Moving off the bed, Aaron towered over her, his arms folded across his bare chest. “This will be your bedroom. The bathroom is the door on the right, and your dressing room is on the left.”

  He reached for his slacks on the foot of the bed and slipped into them, his gaze never leaving her face. “We usually eat the evening meal at eight, but in deference to your condition we’ll dine earlier. I’ll tell Magda to expect us in an hour.”

  He turned and walked across the room, opened the door to the dressing room, and disappeared, leaving her staring at the space where he had been. She glanced at a clock on a table with several framed black and white photographs, noting the time. It was only five-thirty. She had spent the afternoon sleeping, making love, and arguing with Aaron. It was not what she had anticipated for her first day in Bahia. She would take a bath and change for dinner, but first she would call her family and confirm her safe arrival.

  Picking up the telephone on one of the bedside tables, she dialed the international code for the United States, then the area code and telephone number for her parents’ home. Arianna answered the call. She exchanged greetings with her brother, mother, and father. It was another fifteen minutes before she hung up to prepare herself to face Aaron again. Her delicate jaw tightened when she realized her relationship with him had changed, and it was the new life growing inside her that was responsible for that change.

  She had promised him she would remain in Bahia for six months, and she prayed she would be able to fulfill that promise.

  * * *

  Regina took a leisurely bath in a bathroom from a bygone era. Ivy climbed up one wall through the wrought-iron grillwork of the windows, bringing the outdoors inside. The collection of blue glass vials, containers, and vases cradling grooming supplies and plant cuttings were a vivid contrast against the sand-colored stucco walls. The brick floor was nearly worn smooth from thousands of feet wearing down its surface over hundreds of years.

  She stepped out of the tepid, scented water and reached for a thick, thirsty towel in a cobalt blue. Blotting her moist face, she walked over to a shelf and peered at a collection of elegant razors with handles inlaid with pearl, onyx, jade, and several semi-precious stones.

  Bending down, she attempted to dry her legs and feet and slumped to the floor as the objects in the room began spinning. Gasping, she tried swallowing back a wave of nausea. Crawling on her hands and knees, she made it over to the commode.

  At the same time, Aaron walked into the bathroom. He held her gently while she purged the contents of her stomach, then placed a cool cloth over her face and helped her brush her teeth and rinse her mouth before he carried her back to the bedroom.

  He placed her on the bed where they had made love less than an hour before and held her until she rewarded him with a dimpled smile. “Muito obrigado, Aaron.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he replied, returning her smile. “How much Portuguese have you learned?”

  “Just enough to be polite.”

  “You knew how to say I’m pregnant.” She nodded, closing her eyes against his intense stare. “How often do you throw up?”

  She opened her eyes. “At least twice a day.”

  “You’re losing weight.” It was more of a statement than a question. “When I go to the hospital tomorrow I’m taking you with me. I want Dr. Nicolas Benedetti to look at you.”

  “I’m okay now,” she said, pulling out of his loose embrace. “I’d like to get dressed.” Aaron left the bed and returned to the chair where he had sat watching her sleep. Regina stared across the room at him, unable to believe he was going
to sit and watch her dress. “Aaron, please give me a little privacy.”

  “No.” He draped one leg over the other. “I’m not moving. You can get dressed with me right here. There’s nothing you have I haven’t seen before. Try to think of me as your personal physician.”

  “But, you’re not.”

  He flashed a wide grin. “Oh, but I am, Princesa. Very few Bahian doctors make house calls.”

  She knew he was not going to leave, so she walked over to the loveseat where she had placed the dress and underwear she had selected to wear to dinner.

  It was impossible to ignore his dark, burning gaze as she slipped into a pair of dark brown, lace bikini panties with a matching demi-bra. She thought she heard Aaron’s intake of breath when she leaned over to pick up a loose-fitting dress made of an airy voile fabric in a soft, eggshell-white. She had just slipped her arms into the sleeveless garment that ended mid-calf when he rose to his feet and crossed the room.

  Standing in front of her, he gently brushed her hands away and fastened the tiny pearl buttons lining the front. The heat of his freshly showered body caused her to sway gently, and he caught her shoulders to steady her. He was as casually dressed as she was. He had elected to wear a taupe-colored, short-sleeved cotton shirt with a pair of black linen slacks and loafers.

  He smiled, exhibiting his straight, white teeth under his neatly barbered moustache when he glanced down at her narrow feet. “Are you going to take the phrase barefoot and pregnant literally?”

  She wiggled her professionally groomed toes. “My shoes are in the smaller bag.” She pointed to her luggage in the corner.

  “I’ll have Magda unpack your clothes and put them away.” Walking over to her luggage, he recognized the superior quality of the kidskin leather. “Which pair do you want?”

  “Any sandal.”

  He withdrew a pair of black, patent leather mules with a two-inch heel. Easing her down to the loveseat, he bent down and slipped them on her feet. Staring up at her, he smiled. “Do you need help with your hair?”

  Regina wrinkled her delicate nose. “I think I can manage, thank you.” Returning to the bathroom, she brushed her hair off her face, then outlined her mouth with a soft orange color. Turning, she saw Aaron standing several feet away, watching her every move. “I’m ready,” she replied breathlessly.

  He held out his hand, and she caught his fingers. Pulling her to his side, he examined her features intently. “If anyone asks about our relationship I’ll tell them that you are my wife.” He ignored her sharp intake of breath. “It will save a lot of explaining once your pregnancy becomes apparent.” He did not say that if they lived the lie long enough perhaps it would become a reality.

  She nodded, acquiescing. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t a Mrs. Spencer. She just wasn’t Mrs. Aaron Spencer.

  Regina and Aaron dined alfresco on a terrace garden under an allée of areca palms, which gave the appearance of an encroaching jungle in a civilized oasis. A cooling ocean breeze made eating under the sky possible once the sun traveled overhead in a westward direction.

  The outdoor wooden furniture had acquired a natural patina, with a quartet of chairs covered with rush seats. A nearby bench was flanked by large clay urns overflowing with ferns indigenous to the region.

  Aaron watched with amusement when Regina’s gaze lingered on overgrown sections of the untamed land. He cleared his throat, recapturing her attention.

  “What do you think?”

  Arching a sweeping eyebrow, she angled her head. “About what?”

  “The garden.”

  “It has a lot of potential. How long has it been neglected?”

  “Too long,” he replied. “This garden was my aunt’s pride and joy.”

  Regina took a long sip of chilled bottled water, meeting his gaze over the rim of her glass. “Would you mind if I suggested a few renovations?”

  “I was hoping you’d ask. Every acre of this land is yours, Princesa. Make any change you want.”

  Placing her glass on the table, she laughed, her low, husky voice floating and lingering sensuously in the warm air. “I don’t believe you would actually trust me with your precious coffee plantation.”

  I would trust you with my life, he said silently. “And why wouldn’t I?” he queried aloud. “It’s a known fact that ColeDiz International owns and manages several coffee plantations throughout the Caribbean, and I’m willing to bet you know as much about the plant as I do.”

  “The only thing I’ll concede at this time is that I’ve given up drinking it for the next year.”

  Aaron was right. She was very knowledgeable about the planting, cultivating, and harvesting of coffee.

  His gaze went from her face to her chest. “Do you plan to breast-feed?”

  “I would like to.”

  His eyes crinkled in a smile. “Good.”

  She picked up her fork and concentrated on finishing her meal, which consisted of a salad, arroz, feijãao, and carne—white rice, black beans, and steak—grilled with peppers and spices.

  “How many acres do you use for your coffee fields?” she asked after a comfortable silence.

  “Eight thousand out of a possible twelve.”

  “It didn’t realize it was that large.”

  “It’s the largest in Bahia. Leonardo da Costa’s family was one of the largest landowners in Bahia for several centuries. They controlled the country’s sugar industry from the time Salvador was the capital of colonial Brazil until the eighteenth century. After the decline in international sugar prices they lost most of their wealth. My aunt married the last surviving da Costa, and when she failed to produce an heir the bloodline ended with Leonardo.”

  Regina touched her lips with a cloth napkin. “May I have a brief tour of the garden before it gets too dark to see anything?”

  Aaron rose to his feet and came around the table to pull back her chair. “I’ll show you the coffee fields at another time. But if you’re willing to get up at five, you can come with me when I drive down to meet with the foreman.”

  “I don’t think so, Aaron.”

  He shrugged a shoulder in the elegant gesture she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Just asking.”

  Holding her hand firmly, he guided her over a slate path to a world of overgrown trees, shrubs, and wildflowers. Ivy and ferns were growing in riotous disarray, spilling over stone walls and benches.

  Regina stopped, pointing to a marble figure obscured by a tangle of climbing vines. “There’s a fountain.”

  Releasing her hand, Aaron reached through the vines, trying to pull them away from the figure, which held a pitcher from which water had poured into a small pool many years ago.

  He shook his head, sighing heavily. “They are going to have to be cut away. The vines are probably choking an underground pool. Look,” he said, pointing to a damp area on the flagstone path. “The pool was over here.”

  Regina felt her pulses racing. Instead of designing a garden, she would undertake restoring this one to its former magnificence. Working on the garden would give her something to do while Aaron was away from the house during the day.

  “Tomorrow I’ll begin identifying flowers, vines, trees, and ferns,” she said excitedly.

  “You’re going to have to postpone your project for a day. Remember, you’re coming to the hospital with me tomorrow for a checkup with Nicolas Benedetti.”

  She nodded. “Can you hire an assistant for me?”

  His hands slipped up her bare arms, bringing her closer and molding her soft curves to the contours of his body. “What else do you want, Princesa?”

  Tilting her chin, she gave him a dazzling smile. “That’s all for now.”

  He lowered his head until their lips were only inches apart. “Are you sure?”

  She inhaled his moist breath, closing her eyes. “Yes.”

  “The assistant is yours,” he whispered seconds before he claimed the sweetness of her lush mouth. He tightened his hold on her body, moaning sligh
tly when she looped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. Both were breathing heavily when the kiss ended.

  Aaron smiled down at the dreamy expression on her face. “One of these days I’m going to make love to you in your garden paradise, because I want to experience what Adam felt when he made love to Eve.”

  “But theirs was the Garden of Eden,” she argued softly.

  “And ours will be the Jardim da Costa.”

  “I have to see if I can find some fig leaves.”

  Shaking his head, he laughed deep in his throat. “Forget the fig leaves, Darling. The only concession I’m willing to make is a blanket to protect your delicate little behind.”

  “You’re a wicked man, Senhor Spencer.”

  “Not as wicked as I’d like to be, Senhora Spencer.”

  “You have to remember I’m carrying a child.”

  “That is something I’ll never forget.”

  Regina felt the invisible thread drawing them closer, closer than she wanted to be. What she would not think about was the time when she would be forced to leave Aaron, taking the fruit of their love and passion with her.

  Chapter 17

  Aaron led Regina out of the garden, experiencing a gentle peace he had not felt in years. For the first time in his life everything he had ever wanted was his: a medical profession, his direct involvement in medical research, the promise of harvesting the da Costa plantation’s best coffee crop in more than a decade, and the realization that the woman he had fallen in love with was carrying his unborn child.

  “Who lives in those buildings?”

  Regina’s query shattered his pleasant musings. “The larger one belongs to the foreman and his family, and Magda lives in the smaller one.”

  She glanced up at his distinctive profile, studying the set of his firm jaw. “Why doesn’t she live in the main house?”

  “After my aunt died I decided I didn’t want to share the house with any of the employees. I value my privacy too much to have them lurking about.”