Regina flinched at his angry tone, but recovered quickly. “You need a doctor.”
His upper lip curled in a sardonic sneer. “I am a doctor.”
“But not a very smart one,” she snapped. “You should be in bed.”
Closing his eyes, Aaron supported his sagging body against the banister. “That’s where I was going.”
She stood aside, watching him literally drag himself up the stairs. “Have you taken any medication?”
Aaron shook his head, chiding himself for attempting the motion. Every bone in his body ached, along with a pounding headache that would not permit him to think clearly. He knew what he had contracted. It was the flu.
Regina continued her descent, raced into the kitchen, and picked up the telephone. She called the Benedetti residence, apologizing profusely to Nicolas for disturbing him at home. He promised to come to the da Costa estate within the hour.
She hung up, then busied herself brewing a pot of green tea, at the same time nibbling on fresh pineapple, mango, and guava slices. Temporarily assuaging her own hunger, she prepared a tray with a cup of tea, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a small portion of applesauce.
Aaron was in bed, asleep, when she walked into his bedroom. This bedroom was an exact replica of the one she slept in, except that it was smaller and claimed an adjoining half-bath instead of a full one.
Placing the tray on a bedside table, she walked into the bathroom and soaked a small cloth with cold water. Returning to the bedroom, she placed the cloth over Aaron’s head, and he came awake immediately. She noticed he hadn’t shaved, and a coarse stubble of hair covered his lean cheeks.
He pushed her hand and the cloth away. “Go away, Regina. I don’t want you to get sick.”
She slapped at his hand. “I’m not going to get sick.”
Closing his eyes, he let out his breath in a shuddering sigh. “Think about the baby,” he slurred.
“It’s not the baby that’s sick,” she retorted. “It’s his father.”
“Her father,” he moaned, throwing a muscled arm over his forehead.
“His father,” she insisted. “Move your arm, Aaron.”
“No.”
Leaning over his prone body, she pulled his arm down and replaced it with the cloth. “Don’t fight with me. You can’t possibly win.”
A slight smile softened his jaw. “You’re taking advantage of me because I don’t feel well.”
“When you’re feeling better I’ll offer you a rematch.”
Opening his eyes, he stared up at her. “I don’t want a rematch.”
“What do you want?” Her husky voice had lowered to a velvet whisper.
“You know what I want.”
“Say it,” she challenged.
He closed his eyes again, a frown creasing his forehead. “No. I will not ask you again.”
She wanted to tell him that she would marry him, but swallowed back the words poised on the tip of her tongue. She had time. They had time. They had five months to learn to trust each other before she boarded the flight which would take her back to the United States.
She managed to get him to take in half a cup of tea, several ounces of orange juice, and three tablespoons of applesauce before he drifted off to sleep. Then she lay down beside him, holding him close to her ripening body until Nicolas arrived.
Regina sat on an armchair in the corner of the bedroom while Nicolas checked his patient’s vital signs, glancing away when he swabbed an area on Aaron’s hip before injecting him with an antibiotic which was certain to bring down his high fever.
“How is he?” she asked after Nicolas motioned for her to step out of the room with him.
“He’ll feel more like himself in a couple of days. I gave him something that will make him more comfortable, even though it will not speed his recovery. Only bed rest will do that.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He probably has a virus. Several of my patients have come down with the same malady.” He handed her a vial filled with capsules. “Make certain he takes one of these twice a day. Give him the first one around nine o’clock tonight. If he’s not feeling any better tomorrow morning, call me.”
“I’m sorry I had to call you at home—”
“If you hadn’t called, I would have been very annoyed with you,” Nicolas said, stopping her apology.
She offered him an attractive, dimpled smile. “Thank you, Nicolas.”
Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I want you to take care of yourself. You’re much more vulnerable to the flu than Aaron.”
She saw Nicolas to the door, then returned to the upper level and Aaron. She sat at his bedside, reading and watching him sleep, leaving only to eat. At nine o’clock, she forced a capsule between his lips and got him to drink a cup of water. When she lay down beside him, she noticed his skin was cooler than it had been earlier that morning.
Closing her eyes, she slept, one arm thrown over his flat belly.
Chapter 24
Regina and Aaron celebrated Christmas a week late. He left his bed before sunrise, but had not gone to the coffee fields.
They sat together at a table in the pergola, sharing breakfast for the first time in two weeks. He’d lost weight, the evidence reflected by the gauntness of his face. He had removed the week’s growth of whiskers from his lean jaw, but had not trimmed his moustache to its former clipped precision. It was thicker, fuller, concealing most of his upper lip.
“Marcos stopped by yesterday with an invitation to a New Year’s Eve party,” she stated, breaking a comfortable silence. “His parents decided at the last possible moment to throw a little something to welcome him home.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I declined the invitation.”
Aaron shifted an eyebrow. “Why?”
“You’re still recovering from the flu.”
“That shouldn’t stop you from attending.”
Regina stared at him for a long moment. “I know I don’t need your permission to accept an invitation. I declined the invitation for you because I didn’t want you to relapse. I declined for myself because I did not want to attend without you.”
Aaron was not successful when he tried concealing a satisfied grin. “Should I accept your not wanting to attend without me as a compliment?”
She felt a warm glow flow through her. “Yes.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you.”
Removing a slender, foil-wrapped box from the large patch pocket of a flowing smock, she pushed it across the table. “It’s a little late, but Merry Christmas.”
He grew still, staring at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”
Lowering her head, she flashed a shy smile. “I bought it before you…” Her words trailed off.
Aaron placed his cup on the saucer. “Before I started acting like a horse’s ass.” Her head came up, her eyes crinkling in laughter. “Don’t say anything, Princesa,” he warned softly. “I’ve called myself every name imaginable for being Bahia’s biggest fool.”
“Open it, Aaron.”
“Don’t you want to talk about it?”
“No, I don’t. It’s the past, Aaron. Let it remain in the past.”
But he wanted to talk about it. He wanted to allay her fears, gain her trust, and offer her his name and protection for the rest of her life.
“Let me get your gift, and we’ll open them together,” he said instead.
Regina waited for Aaron to go into the house to retrieve the gift he had selected for her. She inhaled, then let out her breath slowly. They hadn’t resolved their differences, but at least they were talking to each other.
Aaron returned to the pergola and handed her a gaily wrapped gift. Leaning down, he pressed his mouth to the side of her neck. “Merry Christmas.”
She shivered noticeably, savoring the brush of silken hair on her sensitive flesh. “Thank you.”
Her fingers were shaking slightly as
she peeled away the paper covering a large, square velvet box. Even without lifting the top, she knew it contained a piece of jewelry.
Shafts of sunlight filtering through overhead trees caught the fiery brilliance of a necklace of graduated diamonds the instant she raised the cover. Tilting her head, her startled gaze met Aaron’s amused one.
“Oh, Aaron. It’s beautiful.”
“I hope you like it.”
“I love it. Thank you.” Removing the necklace from the box, she handed it to him. “Help me put it on.”
He draped the length of diamond around her neck, securing the clasp. Pulling her gently from her chair, he smiled down at her. “They are almost as beautiful as you are.”
Her fingers caressed the flawless, blue-white stones. “I’ll treasure it—always.”
Cocking his head at an angle, Aaron studied her animated expression. He knew she was upset when she lost her wedding ring, and had felt the need to replace it with another dramatic piece of jewelry. He had considered giving her a bracelet until the jeweler showed him the necklace. Seeing the brilliant stones resting below the delicate bones of her clavicle verified he had made the right decision.
Moving closer, Regina curved her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. His arms came up, circling her waist and pulling her to his middle. Oh, how he’d missed her. He missed her more than he could have ever imagined.
The few times he had woken he’d found her asleep at the foot of his bed, but had been too ill to reach for her. Even in his weakened condition he had wanted to hold her, kiss her, love her. And his love for her frightened him, because he feared he loved Regina more than he loved himself.
“Open your gift, Aaron,” she urged softly, her warm breath caressing his throat.
He released her, feeling her loss the moment she pulled out of his embrace. He sat down and unwrapped his gift, closing his eyes briefly after he’d glimpsed the exquisite, solid gold razor with his name engraved on its gracefully curved handle, resting on a bed of navy-blue velvet.
He opened his eyes, smiling at her. “How did you know? Where did you get it?”
“Oh, Aaron, how could I not know?” She laughed. “You only have a half-dozen of them on the shelf in the bathroom adjoining the master bedroom. I called my mother and asked her to pick it up for me.”
He sobered quickly. “I collect antique razors, but none of them are solid gold. You should not have spent so much—”
“Did I give you a limit on how much you could spend on my gift?” she countered, cutting him off.
He managed to look sheepish. “No, ma’am.”
“I thought not,” she crooned, giving him a smug smile.
The exchange of gifts signaled a change, a change which offered them a glimpse of what they had shared before mistrust and doubt had come between them.
They spent the evening in the garden, enjoying the ethereal setting when they sat on a stone bench near the gurgling fountain. The instant the clock tolled the twelve o’clock hour, heralding the advent of a new year, Aaron dropped an arm around Regina’s shoulder; they watched the sky light up with fireworks set off by the revelers at the Jarres.
He stood up, smiling and extending his hand. “Will you share a dance with me to celebrate the new year?” She placed her hand in his, and he pulled her gently to her feet. “Thank you, Senhora Spencer.”
“You’re quite welcome, Senhor Spencer,” Regina whispered, enjoying his closeness and masculine strength.
He cradled her waist, one hand splayed over her rounded belly, waltzing her around and around the fountain until she pleaded fatigue. Bending slightly, he picked her up and carried her across the courtyard and into the house. There was only the sound of their breathing when he climbed the staircase to the second level.
Holding her breath, Regina met and held his direct stare as he lowered her to her bed. She exhaled, closing her eyes when he pressed his mouth to her forehead.
“Happy new year, Princesa. I hope this is the year all of your dreams come true.”
She managed a tremulous smile. “So do I, Aaron.” So do I, my darling, she repeated silently.
Aaron hesitated, his penetrating gaze sweeping over her composed features. They had declared a truce; a very fragile truce for the beginning of a new year.
Regina did not move, not even her eyes, when her gaze fused with his. She knew he was waiting, waiting for her to invite him into her bed. She wanted him, she had missed him, but there was no way she could fall into his arms and offer him her body until they resolved their differences. And that would not happen with just a passionate session of lovemaking, because after a physical release the doubts would still remain.
They had time; she had time; she had months to commit to spending the rest of her life with Aaron Spencer, or walk away from him—forever.
Regina’s new year began with a whirlwind frenzy of social activity. She spent time with Jeannette Benedetti. They shared lunch or shopping excursions. And she toured Bahia with Marcos Jarre. She suspected Aaron wasn’t too pleased with the amount of time she spent with Marcos, but he had yet to voice his annoyance.
That all changed when she strolled into the house half an hour before midnight in late January.
He walked out of his study at the same time she headed for the staircase. “Where have you been?”
She stopped suddenly, staring at him, her forehead creasing in bewilderment. “If I was not here, Aaron, then wouldn’t I have to have been out?”
He ignored her curt retort. “Out with Marcos?”
Her frown faded. “Yes. Why?”
Aaron struggled to control not only his temper but a surge of red-hot jealousy. “Is it not enough that he monopolizes your days? Must that also include your nights?”
“Lençóis is not around the corner. It was a six-hour drive, each way, from Salvador.”
“I’m aware of the geography of Bahia, Senhora Spencer.”
“Then what exactly is the problem, Aaron?”
“I want you to spend less time with Marcos.”
Regina closed her eyes, sighing heavily. She was tired, bone tired, and she needed to take a bath to soak her tired and aching feet and legs before she fell into bed.
Opening her eyes, she stared up at Aaron glaring down at her. He still had not gained back the weight he’d lost when he had come down with the flu. The bones in his face were more pronounced than when she had first met him; she now thought of him as lean and dangerous-looking with the thick moustache.
“I wouldn’t spend so much time with Marcos touring Bahia if you had offered to take me around. You close the research institute for two months, yet you still go in as if it were open.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to see Bahia?”
“I shouldn’t have to ask you, Aaron,” she countered angrily.
“I don’t read minds,” he argued, his voice rising slightly. “I offered to buy you a car so that you can get around independently, but you refused it. You said you wanted time in the garden. If you’re afraid of driving by yourself, then you should’ve said something.”
“I’m not afraid to drive.”
“Then what is it?”
“Nothing,” she replied wearily. “Look, Aaron, I’m exhausted, and I have to go to bed.” What she did not tell him was that she did not want any tokens of permanence, because when she left Bahia she would leave with only her clothes and personal items.
He inclined his head. “We’ll continue this in the morning.”
She gave him a tired smile. “Thank you. Boa noite.”
“Boa noite, Princesa.”
She climbed the staircase slowly, one hand resting over her belly. She stopped, her eyes widening in shock. A dreamy smile softened the lines of fatigue ringing her generous mouth.
Aaron saw her stop and was beside her in seconds. “What’s the matter?”
Her head came up slowly as she rewarded him with a tearful smile. “I felt the baby move, Aaron.”
Reaching for his hand, she placed it over the area where she had felt the slight fluttering.
“It’s called quickening.” He could not disguise the hoarseness of his own voice.
“He just moved again,” she whispered, leaning into him.
Aaron curved an arm around her shoulders and led her up the staircase to her bedroom. “You’re practically falling asleep on your feet. I’ll fix your bath and wash you—”
“No,” she cut in, shaking her head.
“Yes,” he stated firmly. “Don’t fight with me, Regina. Even though you’ve put on a little weight over the past few months, I’m still bigger than you are.”
“You’re a bully.”
“Wrong,” he countered, sitting her gently on the bed and removing her shoes. “I’m the man who loves your life.”
He took off her slacks, smock top, and underwear, leaving her briefly to fill the bathtub. A quarter of an hour later, she lay on the bed, her scented body tingling from the light pressure of his magical fingers as he massaged the tight muscles in her legs and feet.
“Aaron?”
“What is it, Princesa?”
“I’d like to make a request.”
Covering her nude body with a sheet, he sat down beside her. “What is it?”
“Stay with me tonight.”
Leaning closer, his mouth grazed an earlobe. “Are you asking me to share your bed?”
“Yes.” She slurred the single word, and within seconds she was asleep.
Aaron watched her features relax as she succumbed to the exhaustion she had valiantly fought and lost. He combed his fingers through the raven curls falling over the top of her ear, his former anger fading.
Her outings with his childhood friend had begun innocently enough when Marcos offered to take her to the historical churches, forts, and buildings of colonial Salvador. After two weeks their excursions escalated to day-long outings to Cachoeira, Ilhéus, and Caldas do Jorro. He was pleased that Regina enjoyed Marcos’s company and his vast knowledge of African history, but he did not like Marcos’s obvious obsession with the woman who was carrying his child.
He had planned to confront Marcos, warning him to stay away from Regina before she revealed that she saw Marcos because he had not been there for her. And she was right. Even though the institute was closed, he still went into his office like clockwork. Regina had always been so fiercely independent and solitary that he had not thought of spending more time with her. Now that would change. Moving off the bed, he headed to the bathroom to shower, then returned to lie down beside her.
Harvest Moon Page 25
