He turned them around, much as she’d done downstairs in the ballroom. He pressed the call button, much as she’d done in the lobby. But he couldn’t find more words to say.
Aubrey had no such problem. “You think I’m the marrying kind.”
His chin jerked down and up, recalling how she’d told him he didn’t love her after he’d kissed her.
“You think you’re not good enough for me,” she went on.
Another jerky motion of his chin.
Aubrey sighed. “My father would probably agree with you.”
Of course, her father had wanted Aubrey to marry a New York prince, someone with a pedigree and a trust fund. Not a man who’d scratched and clawed his way to wealth. Certainly not a man who’d destroyed his own father to succeed.
The elevator doors slid open silently. They stared at the open car, not moving.
Nino couldn’t help but think that this was his last chance to possess Dr. Aubrey Summer.
Except she was the one person in the world he hoped no one would ever possess. She deserved to be worshipped on a pedestal.
“I have regrets,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to have regrets about you.”
Aubrey released his arm and stepped into the elevator. By unspoken agreement, Nino didn’t join her.
“The secret ingredient you’re looking for is just yeast.” Her head was high and her eyes dry. This episode wouldn’t break her. She was strong and capable. She’d probably find a study to explain away her attraction to him. “Every company develops their own.”
The doors began to close.
“Eugene will help you.”
Nino felt gutted. He didn’t want Eugene’s help.
He wanted hers.
*
Her sisters were in the room connecting to Aubrey’s when she returned.
More than anything, Aubrey wanted to be alone. She’d ridden down ten floors in the elevator without seeing anyone. She’d walked the long length of empty hallway, passing native artwork hanging on the walls, wondering why Nino had chosen that art and not her.
Because he’s not the marrying kind.
She hadn’t decided to sleep with him because she’d wanted to marry him.
Although the thought had entered her mind. She had friends in New York who’d dated and made love long before they’d ever fallen in love with that same someone. Marriage, the kind she wanted, was based on love and physical attraction. You couldn’t have one without the other, or you’d end up with a marriage like her parents.
Nino wasn’t without a heart. In fact, he was probably upstairs hurting as much as she was now, with an ache in his chest the size of Kansas and a nagging voice in his head whispering, “But you could love her.”
Aubrey gripped the connecting door knob and hung on, unable to swing it closed.
Her sisters didn’t notice. Lily was zipping up her white cotton dress. Violet was sprawled across a bed reading a book. Maggie was lining her eyes, not that they needed another coat of black.
Aubrey envied them their confidence, their calm, their experience with love and loss.
Love?
Aubrey must have made a noise, because Maggie’s gaze darted her way.
“You had second thoughts?” Maggie capped her eyeliner, digging through her cosmetic case instead of looking at Aubrey directly.
“No.” Aubrey blinked, surprised that there were still no tears. There was just a numb emptiness. “He decided we shouldn’t…You know.”
“What?” All three sisters cried.
Aubrey pressed her lips together and nodded her head, because tears suddenly pressed against the backs of her eyes. She’d much rather have cried in private.
“He’s a complete jerk!” Maggie stood, looking like she wanted to hit someone.
“Agreed.” Violet sat up and tossed her paperback to the end of the bed.
“Was he more interested in your corporate secrets than your Victoria’s Secrets?” Lily asked softly, coming to stand near Aubrey.
Who shook her head before admitting, “It felt really noble.” He was truly noble.
Grandma Dotty entered the room in her sparkly red and white dress. She held the blond wig in her hand, the removal of which had left her short white hair plastered thinly against her head. She took one look at Aubrey’s face and rushed over to hug her. “Oh, Bree. I understand. We both got passed over tonight.”
A group hug ensued. Someone might have mentioned retribution (Maggie), someone might have mentioned hacking a social media account (Violet), and someone might have cautioned them to sleep on it (Lily).
“There are plenty more fish in the sea.” Dotty huffed and extricated herself.
“I’m leaving for the plantation tomorrow.” Aubrey could use the time away. Long hours on the beautiful roads south would help fill the emptiness.
“I’d still like to stay here.” Grandma Dotty held Aubrey at arm’s length, the wig hanging over Aubrey’s shoulder. “Did you tell Nino not to come?”
“No.” Her voice came out very small. “It all happened so fast. One minute I was at his door, staring at a naked woman–”
“What?” the Summer women howled again.
“And the next he was turning me away from the painting and saying goodbye,” Aubrey finished on a sad note.
“Did you recognize the painter or the painting?” Maggie grabbed her cell phone. “He’s just the type to have stolen it.”
Aubrey shook her head. Nino may cut corners, but he wasn’t an art thief.
“Naked lady art theft,” Maggie said slowly, typing into her phone.
“I don’t want to know what comes up in that search.” Lily backed away. “Don’t even show me your screen.”
Dotty put her wig on a Styrofoam head on the dresser and smoothed the tresses. “I never was the blond type.” She sounded disillusioned.
“He’s clearly not Aubrey’s type.” Violet tilted her head and studied Aubrey’s face. “I don’t know who’s type he is, but he’s definitely not yours.”
Violet was wrong. Nino was her type. Smart, hard-working, honorable, not to mention tall, dark, and virile. He was her dream man–at least, when he wasn’t trying to steal from her or refusing to sleep with her. But every man had at least one flaw, right?
Increasingly, Aubrey felt getting into the elevator had been a mistake. The years stretched out ahead of Aubrey, long days recording experiments, long nights spent falling asleep in bed alone while reading the Theory of Plants. Aubrey loved plants, but plants didn’t love a person back.
Nino needed someone to love him back. Someone who appreciated his sly humor. Someone who recognized he could have both hunger for success and the generosity to give. A feeling of warmth invaded her chest, balm to heartache, balm to her well of unshed tears. The feeling strengthened, expanded, blossomed.
I love Nino.
The thought didn’t drive her into a panic.
But he doesn’t love me.
Still no panic.
Nino may not love her, but he cared. He cared enough to know she didn’t jump into bed with men. He cared enough to try and protect her from a playboy like himself.
Her scientist brain took over, testing the theory of love (seemed solid enough), testing the hypothesis that continued exposure to Nino would lead to a feeling in him that was mutual.
Pah! When was love ever proven by science?
She’d conducted hundreds of experiments with yeast fermentation, which had taken several years. Conversely, her entire experience with Nino had been short-lived. A four-minute tango instead of a night of dancing. Experiments failed all the time without the proper set-up and testing conditions. If she thought Nino was the right man, then she needed to give him time to prove it. The question was: how?
Aubrey was stumped.
“I’ll call the front desk.” Taking charge, Lily stomped over to the house phone. “And tell them to give Nino-Marcos a message: He’s not welcome on your trip.”
“No,” Au
brey murmured, still lost in the mental loop of scientific if/then statements.
“You’ll leave earlier in the morning.” Grandma Dotty turned so Aubrey could unzip her dress. “He’ll be left hanging.”
“No.” Aubrey tried again, louder this time. “No! I want him to go.”
Her sisters chorused their dissent.
Grandma Dotty turned in a sparkle of sequins. “He’ll steal my grandfather’s yeast, first chance he gets.”
If he loves me, he won’t steal the yeast.
It was the perfect experiment.
The question was: Does he love me?
“He might steal a sample.” Aubrey tugged her riding leathers out of her suitcase, no longer feeling the numb emptiness now that she had an experiment to perform, a hypothesis waiting to be proved. “But he also might realize he loves me.”
“That seems highly unlikely,” Maggie said, jilted bride whose glass was still half-empty. “Even if he did pass the Kissing Test.”
“I’m willing to take that chance.”
And no matter how hard her sisters tried to change her mind, Aubrey couldn’t be swayed.
Chapter 12
Nino stepped out of the elevator wearing black riding leathers and carrying a small backpack.
A man moved to block his path.
“Dr. Summer told me you’re taking a trip with her.” Mateo stepped in front of Nino speaking in rapid Spanish. He wore an impeccable dark suit and purple silk tie, but the expression on his face was out of sorts. “Don’t go. She told you about the importance of yeast. There’s no reason to go with her.”
“Except that she reiterated that I had an open invitation.” Via the front desk this morning. Nino glanced across the lobby, wondering what that meant.
Aubrey stood outside in midnight blue riding leathers, her deep brown hair in a tidy French braid. She was stroking the leaf of a flower in one of the planters. She didn’t look heartbroken. She didn’t look as if she’d tossed and turned all night trying to second-guess a decision the way Nino had.
Nino faced Mateo. “If I see what she’s doing firsthand, and do the same at Caradoc, our chocolate will improve by leaps and bounds. It will ride my father like a caballero with new spurs.”
Mateo placed a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Are you sure this trip is strictly business? I heard about what happened during dance lessons.”
“Have no fear. I plan to be a gentleman.”
“A man. A woman. And the best laid plans…” Mateo let the implication finish itself. “Do not do anything foolish.”
A valet drove Nino’s motorbike under the portico. It was sleek and black and powerful.
Nino waved a hand between them, dismissing Mateo’s arguments. “Have you ever seen something you couldn’t resist, Mateo?”
“I know better than to answer that question.” Mateo sighed.
“Then you know I must go on this trip.” Nino pushed through the doors to the early morning heat. “Good morning, mi cielo. Are you ready to ride?”
“Yes.” Aubrey wore sunglasses and a welcoming smile. “And you? Are you sure you won’t have any…regrets?”
Nino forced a smile, trying to convey regrets were the furthest thing from his mind. “I’ve decided Eugene may know yeast, but I should experience some aspects of harvest firsthand. Who better to show me, then you?”
“Nino–”
“Do you like it?” He interrupted her, afraid she’d changed her mind and refusing to let Aubrey say he couldn’t go. He patted his shiny black gas tank. “It’s one of my own design.”
She peered at the chrome insignia. “Cantuña.”
“Yes…well…” He ran a hand through his hair. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
She beamed at him.
A motorcycle engine announced the approach of another bike.
“That’s me,” Aubrey said before the valet had brought it around the corner. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
A motorcycle appeared at the end of the lane. It had a sidecar attached. What it didn’t have were flashy lines and statement-making colors. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t sexy. It was something a peasant would drive. Something that would break down on the side of the road.
The valet stopped in front of Aubrey, grinning. “Magnifico.”
Nino frowned. The younger man had no appreciation of the finer things life had to offer.
“The classics always are magnificent.” Aubrey tucked her duffle and backpack in the side car, and then gave the valet a tip and a smile. “Are you ready?” She straddled her motorbike.
Nino made a noncommittal sound and smiled harder, inspecting her sidecar. “Did you rent this?”
“No. It’s my cousin Scarlet’s.” With a glance she took him in the way he imagined she’d look at a lab experiment, one in which she wasn’t certain would yield reliable results. “She loans it to me when I need to cover long distances on uncertain roads. We brought it down on the family jet.”
He had no idea why. It was an eyesore. “Do you want me to remove the sidecar? The road will be smoother for you. Or we could just take my bike.” He gestured to the black beauty a few feet away. He’d ridden it from the factory yesterday. It had less than twenty miles on it. He’d enjoy a long trip with Aubrey behind him and her arms around him.
“No. I need the sidecar, what with groceries and the samples I’m bringing back.” She settled a white helmet on her head that was as plain and unattractive as her motorbike. “Is that your ride? It’s not exactly built for rough roads.”
“It’s built for speed.” Nino grabbed his black helmet resting on one handlebar. “This sounds like a wager.”
“It sounds like common sense. This bike is built to withstand abuse.” She gave him a private smile, as if he wasn’t familiar with the cities and roads in his own country. “I need to pick up supplies. I’ll meet you at the junction south of town where the highways split. Do you know the place?”
He nodded. “But–”
“Meet me at the roadside café at the junction. Order me a coffee and something sweet.”
Nino laughed. By the time she got there in that old thing, he’d be having his third cup of coffee and she’d be ready to concede to ride with him.
*
Miles before the highway junction on a busy main artery out of Quito, Aubrey pulled over near Nino’s motorcycle and removed her helmet.
Nino’s helmet was off, and his riding leathers zipped to his waist, the upper half hanging down, revealing a plain black T-shirt and a set of firm muscles.
It wasn’t the best place to stop, although Nino was parked in the shade. Someone had built a cardboard shack in the trees a few feet away. A man sat in the opening watching them. His face was dirty and his clothes brown tatters. Two black and orange chickens pecked the ground nearby in the heart of the shadow of a big tree.
“Engine trouble?” Aubrey’s eyes attempted to adjust from sunlight to shade.
“I swerved to avoid a chicken.” Nino shot the hens with a dark look. His black backpack sat at his feet, along with a metal water bottle that had a silver insignia similar to that on his motorcycle and a big dent. “My mind wasn’t completely on the road.”
“And you were speeding.” Men and their toys.
The left side of his motorcycle was scraped, the gas tank crumpled. The smell of petrol filled the air. There were skid marks in the road and debris from his shattered side-view mirror. A part of her was glad Cantuña was wrecked. But what of Nino?
Her heart began to pound.
“Are you all right?” She surveyed him for damage. He didn’t appear shaken. His arms had been protected by his suit, but the visor of his deeply scuffed helmet had shattered.
“Not to worry,” Nino said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I called Mateo first thing. He’s sending a replacement bike.”
“I suppose it would be rubbing it in if I reminded you your bike isn’t built for rural roads?” She picked up his helmet and exper
ienced a shiver of fear as she traced the path of pavement across the marred black finish. “You’d be better off riding in my sidecar.”
“My motorbikes are built for any road.”
“They’re built for seduction, Nino.” Aubrey forced herself to meet his gaze, to let the word hang between them like that large painting hanging in his foyer.
His jaw clenched. “They aren’t built for sex. They’re built for speed.”
“Which would be fine if you lived in a country with a fantastic highway system. But this is Ecuador. Half the roads here are dirt and gravel.” She shook her head and tsked sadly. “I think we’ve found a flaw in this beauty. She’s good for one thing and one thing only.” She couldn’t resist poking the tiger, because he’d scared her, very nearly ruining her experiment and her life. If he’d been killed…She swallowed and stayed on task, reaching out to brush the black hair from his eyes. “You should expand your motorcycle horizons. Think about the future. A future beyond Ecuador and South America.”
She wasn’t talking about motorcycles.
A shiny blue truck pulled up behind them.
Nino went to the cab and explained the situation to the driver. Aubrey couldn’t hear the man’s response, but Nino grew more upset, gesturing to his motorcycle and the truck bed while speaking in rapid Spanish that didn’t carry over the noise of passing traffic.
Finally, Nino tossed his hands and cursed, reaching in the truck bed for a cloth grocery bag that bulged with items. He carried the bag to the man in the cardboard shack, leaning down to touch his shoulder compassionately.
“May your luck change for the better,” Nino said in Spanish.
The man rummaged in the bag, taking out bottles of water and cans of food. “Bless you.”
Nino acknowledged him with a wave of his hand as he turned back toward Aubrey.
Aubrey’s heart warmed.
He’d been upset over his accident, but he’d remembered to tell Mateo to bring this man food?
This is why I love him.
Nino may be wealthy, proud, and a man who held himself in high regard, but he was kind, generous and thoughtful.
And she loved him.
And Then He Kissed Me Page 11
