Harvest Moon

by Rochelle Alers

  Magda walked across the living room, staring at the rain-soaked couple, her knowing gaze taking in their state of half-dress. “Is Senhora Spencer all right?”

  Regina pressed her face to Aaron’s bare chest when she heard the housekeeper’s voice. She wanted to tell Magda that she was wonderful. Aaron had just made love to her in the garden, and all she wanted to do was spend the rest of her life in his arms.

  “She’s fine, Magda,” Aaron said, taking the stairs two at a time. He moved down the hallway, smiling at Regina. “Now, are you ready to take siesta with me?”

  “Umm,” she moaned, angling for a more comfortable position.

  He placed her on the bed, removed her damp clothing, then removed his slacks and lay down beside her. “I love you, Regina Spencer,” he whispered as he closed his eyes and joined her in a sleep for sated lovers.

  Chapter 22

  Regina awoke to a blue-veiled sky and an orange-colored full moon as the backdrop for a profusion of twinkling stars. She moaned softly as she turned away from the window.

  “Did I hurt you?” questioned a deep voice in the velvet darkness.

  “No. I’m just a little stiff from pulling up weeds.”

  Aaron sat up, reached over, and flicked on the table lamp. Turning back to Regina, he frowned at her. “What are you doing weeding? Isn’t that why I hired Christôvão?”

  She let out her breath in an audible sigh. “I was helping him.”

  Moving closer, he place a hand over her hip, massaging the tender muscles in her lower back. “Next time let the man do his job.”

  “I will,” she promised. She moaned again. “That feels wonderful, Aaron.”

  Going up on his knees, he leaned over her prone body and massaged her back and legs, his strong fingers working their healing magic.

  “I want to host a Christmas party for the staff at the institute,” he stated firmly.

  There was a noticeable pause before Regina responded. “Where?” Her low, sultry voice floated up and lingered in the quietness of the room.

  “Here.”

  “When?”

  “Next Saturday.”

  A slight smile softened her full lips. “You’re not giving me much notice, Aaron. I have to prepare a menu and decorate the house.”

  He ran his forefinger down the length of her spine. “We’ll have a caterer provide the food. Meanwhile, Magda and I will help you with whatever else you’ll need in the house.”

  Shifting, she sat up and pressed her back against the massive, carved headboard. “How can you help when you’re working?”

  Aaron moved over and sat beside her. His admiring gaze lingered on her delicate profile. “Tomorrow will be my last day at the institute for two months. And—”

  “Two months?” she queried, interrupting him. It was apparent she was shocked at this disclosure.

  “We always recess for two months. It gives everyone a chance to return to their native countries, or go on holiday. You’ll get to see a lot of me until mid-February.”

  “Speaking of February, would you mind if I invited my brother and sister to come for Carnival?”

  Curving an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her head to his chest. “Of course I don’t mind. Invite whomever you want.”

  She smiled up at him. “You wouldn’t be so generous if I decided to invite the entire Cole clan.”

  “Oh, yes I would,” he said teasingly. “I don’t know where everyone would sleep, but I’m certain we could figure out something.”

  Regina stared at her left hand splayed over his muscled chest, her gaze lingering on the white and rare yellow diamonds in the wide band on her finger. Pulling back, she gave him a direct stare. “Did you take my ring from my evening purse?”

  He frowned. “What ring?”

  “The ring Oscar gave me.”

  “No, I didn’t. Why?”

  “I can’t find it.”

  “When was the last time you saw it?”

  “The night we went to Jeannette’s party. You took it off my finger, but I put it in my bag.”

  “Do you think it could’ve fallen out?”

  She shrugged both shoulders. “I don’t know. I dropped the purse on the staircase, but when I picked it up the next morning it was still closed.”

  Moving off the bed, Aaron stood up. “After I shower I’ll ask Magda if she found it.”

  Regina went to her knees and held on to his wrist. “Don’t. I’ll ask her. I don’t want her to think you’re accusing her of stealing it.”

  His eyebrows met in a frown. “I’d never accuse her of being a thief.”

  “Let me handle it?”

  “Okay,” he conceded. “I won’t say anything.” He extended a hand. “Come share a shower with me.”

  She grasped the proffered fingers. “Only if you promise to behave, Aaron Spencer.”

  Pulling her gently from the bed, he swung her up in his arms. “I can promise you anything but that.”

  “Aaron,” she wailed.

  “Okay. But just this time.” Walking across the bedroom, he shifted her ripening body, smiling. She was gaining weight. “I’ve come up with a name for our daughter,” he said mysteriously.

  Her eyes brightened with amusement. “What is it?”

  “Eden.”

  Lowering her gaze, lashes brushing her sun-tanned cheeks, Regina flashed a shy smile. “It would be very appropriate for a girl, but—” Her gaze moved up and locked with his.

  “But what?” His voice was barely a whisper.

  “But it’s going to be a boy.”

  “How do you know that, Senhora Spencer?”

  “I just know.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Promise me you won’t ask Nicolas to see the ultrasound pictures.”

  “Have you seen them?” he countered.

  “No. And I don’t want to. Promise me, Aaron.” His mouth tightened beneath his moustache. “Please, Darling,” she pleaded, offering him one of her irresistible dimpled smiles.

  “All right. I promise,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “I will finish bringing out the dishes and show the caterers where you want them to set up when they arrive, Senhora Spencer.”

  Regina smiled at Magda, nodding. “Thank you for your help. Everything looks beautiful.” She and Magda had prepared all of the appetizers for the cocktail hour.

  Cold fish dishes, along with other platters filled with assorted cheeses, a Mediterranean salad, a five-tomato salsa, stuffed tomatoes and mushrooms, chicken salads, oven-roasted artichoke slivers with thyme and marjoram, and prosciutto-stuffed figs all lined the tables set up in the courtyard, which was brightly illuminated with more than three dozen lanterns positioned around the perimeter. Strings of tiny electric lights cast an ethereal glow on the garden and beyond.

  Regina had planned for an outdoor buffet dinner for twenty, followed by dancing under a navy-blue, star-littered sky. The oppressive daytime temperatures were alleviated by the setting sun, and a nighttime temperature of seventy-five with a warm summer breeze had helped create the perfect setting for a holiday gathering.

  Magda offered Senhora Spencer a sincere smile for the first time since she had come to the da Costa estate. Her smile was still in place as she watched Regina retreat to the house to dress before the arrival of her guests.

  Even though she resented the younger woman’s presence, she had to admit she had treated her kindly. When Regina had questioned her about her missing wedding ring, she had readily accepted her response that she hadn’t seen it.

  She’d lied smoothly; it was she who had taken it from the small purse lying on the staircase. Discovering the ring had been divine providence. She had waited two days, then taken a rare trip to Salvador and sold it for a fraction of its worth. She could have haggled and gotten more money, but what she received was enough—more than enough to pay someone to make certain Senhora Regina Spencer and the child she carried in her womb would not survive the next harvest.


  Aaron squeezed Regina’s fingers, then smiled down at her as the first of the invitees walked into the courtyard. The invitation had indicated casual dress. The men arrived sans jackets and ties, and the women favored colorful sandals they had paired with dresses that revealed the maximum amount of bare flesh without being vulgar.

  Regina felt almost overdressed in her silk ensemble of slacks and softly flowing top with a scooped neckline. She wore red, and Aaron had elected black: linen slacks, shirt, and imported Italian loafers.

  She felt the excitement the moment she had descended the staircase. Every room in the house was filled with flowers, bringing the ethereal enchantment of her resplendent garden indoors.

  The caterers and the musicians had arrived, and had set up quickly and expertly before their guests crossed the boundary line marking the da Costa property.

  “Everything looks beautiful,” Aaron whispered. “You look beautiful.”

  Returning his smile, she nodded. “Thank you, Darling.”

  Lowering his head, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “No, Princesa, thank you.”

  “I’m truly wounded, Aaron. You throw a party and forget to invite me.”

  Aaron’s head came up quickly when he heard a familiar male voice. A bright smile crossed his face as he released Regina’s hand and pulled Marcos Jarre into a quick, rough embrace.

  “If you wanted an invitation, you should’ve let me know you were back.”

  Marcos Jarre’s black eyes narrowed in concentration as he ignored the man who was more like a brother to him than his own brother, his gaze softening when he stared at the tall, slender woman standing beside Aaron Spencer.

  Aaron did not miss Marcos’s interest in Regina. Curving an arm around her waist, he smiled. “Regina, this gypsy is Marcos Jarre, our closest neighbor. Marcos, Regina Spencer.”

  Regina extended a slender hand, offering Aaron’s friend a warm, dimpled smile. “My pleasure, Marcos.”

  He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. His steady gaze did not waver behind the lenses of his round, wire-rimmed glasses when he catalogued every inch of her face and body. “No, Regina. The pleasure is mine. I can’t believe my friend has been holding out on me.”

  “I wouldn’t have to hold out on you if you called me more than once a year,” Aaron teased. “Marcos has spent the last ten years of his life studying and teaching in Europe and Africa. And I must admit that he is a brilliant teacher and scholar,” he explained to Regina.

  Marcos shook his head, smiling. “You’ve changed, friend. Old age and marriage have humbled you.”

  “Old age!” Aaron retorted. “I’m only a day older than you are.”

  Regina examined the man who would be her neighbor during her stay in Bahia. She eclipsed his height by several inches, but his slender body made him appear taller than his five feet, eight inches. He affected a close-cropped haircut, while a neat goatee added character to his narrow face. His coloring reminded her of a polished pecan with rich, gold-brown undertones. His English was flawless, and she wondered whether he was a native Brazilian or had learned the language during his travels.

  “In case you’re not aware of it, your husband is also an excellent teacher,” Marcos stated with a wide grin. “He taught me English—”

  “And you taught me to speak Spanish,” Aaron countered.

  “And I taught you how to ride a horse, amigo, and you became a better horseman, even though I had grown up around them all of my life.”

  Aaron nodded. “That’s because books were your passion, not horses. How long do you plan to stay in Bahia this time?”

  “I’ve taken a sabbatical. I’ll be here for a year.”

  As he placed a large hand on Marcos’s shoulder, Aaron’s expression softened. “Good. Welcome home, friend.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I hope you’re going to join us,” Regina offered in a quiet tone.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Marcos teased, winking at her.

  “He’s seems very nice,” she said to Aaron after Marcos made his way across the courtyard to where a portable bar had been set up.

  “He’s the brother I never had,” Aaron admitted. “He’s truly brilliant, Princesa. He has become an expert on African history. He has lived in most African countries, and has lectured at every prestigious university in the States and Europe. He just spent the past two years at Oxford.”

  Curiosity and anticipation lit up her eyes. “I’d love to invite him for dinner.”

  “Knowing Marcos, he won’t wait for an invitation. Chances are you’ll get to see a lot of him now that he’s going to remain in Bahia for more than a few months.”

  She inhaled, then let out her breath slowly. “I think it’s time you introduced me to your guests.”

  “Our guests,” he reminded her, spying Nicolas and Jeannette as they made their way into the courtyard.

  Regina spent the cocktail hour meeting and socializing with the people who worked at the research institute. She thought them too formal, stilted, until each had sampled a cup of potent rum punch. After their second drinks inhibitions were shed, and everyone exhibited a liveliness that was infectious.

  The frivolity continued well into the night with drinking, dancing, and a nonstop consumption of food. Regina shared her first dance with Aaron, then with every man present. A few of the doctors from the institute flirted shamelessly with her, but she laughed and ignored some of the more ribald comments, attributing the loose tongues to the intoxicating effects of the punch.

  Near the midnight hour she found herself in the arms of Marcos Jarre, once the pulsing musical numbers had slowed to a classic, Brazilian love ballad. He had pulled her into a close embrace, then gone completely still once he registered the slight swell of her belly artfully disguised under the red silk.

  “You’re expecting a child?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

  She shifted an eyebrow, smiling. “Yes.”

  He whistled softly. “My friend has really changed.”

  Her smile faded, replaced by a questioning frown. “Why would you say that?”

  Marcos shook his head. “There was a time when Aaron took a solemn oath that he would never marry or have children.”

  She forced a smile she did not feel. “I suppose anyone can change.”

  “That’s true, Regina. But I just remember Aaron being so adamant about not wanting to get married.” He swung her around in an intricate step, she following easily. “However, I can see why he did change his mind. You’re stunning,” he murmured in a velvet tone.

  Easing back, she stared at him. “Are you flirting with me, Marcos?”

  “Of course,” he replied flippantly.

  She was forced to laugh even though she did not feel like it. Marcos and Jeannette had remarked how much Aaron had changed, and she wondered who was the real man she had reluctantly pledged her future to.

  Had he proposed marriage because he truly did love her, or was revenge his intent? The question nagged at her until Marcos’s voice shattered her musings.

  “How much of Bahia have you seen?”

  “Not too much. I visit Salvador several times a month. I’m currently spending a lot of time at home because I’m restoring the garden.”

  Marcos tilted his head at an attractive angle, flashing a knowing smile. “I know Aaron is probably up to his eyeballs with his work at the institute and at the hospital, so I’m going to appoint myself as your personal guide. And if you’re willing to give up a few days working in your garden I’ll show you a place unlike any other on the continent. A thorough tour of Salvador will take about five days, while I can also plan a few day trips to Caldas do Jorro or Lençóis. One thing you must see is a candomblé ceremony.”

  “What is candomblé?”

  “It is a religious ceremony that is wholly African in origin. The participants worship various divinities called orixás.”

  Regina gave him a skeptical look. “Brazil is a Catholic country, ye
t you’re saying the people practice candomblé?”

  Marcos nodded. “It’s fascinating. I’ll take you to a candomblé ceremony, and let you judge for yourself. All I’ll say is that Salvador is known as the most deeply religious of Brazilian cities, and has about one hundred-sixty churches and approximately four thousand candomblé terreiros, or temples.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Wait for what?” questioned a deep, velvety voice.

  Regina turned to find Aaron standing less than three feet away, watching her dance with his friend. “Marcos has promised to take me to a candomblé ceremony.”

  His expression became a mask of stone. “I’d prefer that you stayed away from those places.”

  Stepping away from Marcos, she moved over and wound her arm through Aaron’s. “Why, Darling?”

  “We’ll talk about it later.” He had addressed Regina, but his angry gaze was trained on his friend and neighbor.

  Recognizing the warning look in Aaron’s eyes, Marcos nodded to Regina. “Thank you for the dance.”

  “You’re welcome,” she called out as he walked away.

  Aaron turned to look at her, his hands cradling her face. “What do you say we send our guests on their way, then go to bed?”

  Her fingers curled around his strong wrists. “Before you do that I’d like to know something.”

  He gave her a sensual smile. “What is it?”

  “This pretense of masquerading as husband and wife.” He nodded. “Who are you trying to protect? Me, or yourself?”

  His smile faded quickly. “What do you mean?”

  She leaned closer, her gaze widening in the shadowed light from the minute bulbs hanging from the branches of a nearby tree. “I think it’s your reputation you want to protect, not mine. It was you, Bahia’s eminent Dr. Aaron Spencer, who swore he would never marry or father a child. But all of that has changed since—”

  “Stop it, Regina!” He hadn’t raised his voice, but the three words cut through the night like the crack of a whip.

  “Stop what, Aaron? Stop wanting to live a lie? What’s the matter with you that you can’t accept the truth?”

  “And what do you think is the truth?”