“What’s that?”
The reason you’re here.
“The slurry that starts our chocolate fermentation.” At his blank look, Aubrey added, “Essentially, it’s my great-great grandfather’s yeast with a couple of tweaks I made.” She returned the jar to the refrigerator. “They use it as starter to ferment the cocoa beans.”
The monkey screeched. A bad omen?
Nino made a non-committal noise and turned away, as if he had no interest in stealing her work.
“I’m going to make dinner.” Aubrey gathered her things from the sidecar, trying not to think about the many ways this could go wrong. “Why don’t you find something for us to sit on outside?”
*
While Aubrey helped the nuns prepare dinner, Nino walked around the property, circling the refrigerator where the key ingredient to Aubrey’s specialty chocolate was held.
Was this a test? It felt like one.
He thought of his father’s words. Money and power corrupt.
He walked twenty feet away, staring into the thick green canopy of the rainforest that lined the short wire fence.
He thought of Mateo’s words. Dr. Summer has something you’ll never have. Honor.
He walked ten feet away, eyes on the rich brown soil at his feet.
He thought of Aubrey’s words the day they’d met. Marcos Alfaro is scum.
He stared at his hands. If he’d had a mirror, he’d have stared at his face, trying to determine why he was considering stealing from the woman he loved.
Loved?
Nino swallowed thickly.
He planned everything in his life. He’d circled the companies he wanted to buy, looking for weaknesses, looking for opportunities. He’d planned campaigns, assessing the need for resources, for men, for money. Methodically, he executed his strategy of attack. Once in possession of a business, he re-assessed and quickly moved the pieces at his disposal around. He always saw the lay of the land. He hadn’t seen loving Aubrey coming.
But he’d always had a goal for what came next and his goal had always involved his father’s companies. With no more companies on his radar, he’d felt different. Mateo was right. He’d lost the drive for more. Despite his success, his wealth, the way he was able to provide for his mother and his grandmother, he’d stalled.
And then he’d seen Aubrey, who wasn’t interested in what Marcos Alfaro could do for her, who didn’t want any piece of his success or money or influence. And in much the same way he’d approached possessing his father’s companies, he’d tried to possess her–that freshness, that honesty, that goodness.
Aubrey was everything a person of the world should aspire to be. Smart, big-hearted, invested in her career, but not at the expense of others. She might want to succumb to the chemistry between them, but she could never love a man like him. A man whose first instinct, whose first course of action, was to take advantage.
I’m a con man, a swindler, Cantuña.
She could never love me.
Nino’s stomach churned, but his feet hadn’t moved. He was still placed at the door to an opportunity. He stared at the refrigerator, so close all he had to do was reach out and close his fingers around the handle.
Does he have regrets? Her question from the day at the golf course echoed in his head.
Half of him wanted to shout out in the negative, to reach out and take what a woman and some nuns had left in the open.
I’ll have regrets if I steal from Dr. Aubrey Summer.
There was the other half of him, keeping his feet planted in the dirt, keeping his arms at his sides.
“Did you find something?” Aubrey called from above him.
There were two large plastic crates beside the refrigerator. They looked sturdy enough to sit on.
“Not yet,” he called back. And almost before he realized what he was doing, he opened the refrigerator door.
There wasn’t just one container of slurry inside. There was a dozen. Canning jars like his grandmother used for the wild berry preserves she made every summer.
Nino knew nothing about yeast. The fact that they were refrigerated implied they might need to be kept cool. He retrieved his insulated water bottle from his backpack in the sidecar, dumped out the water, and listened to the roll of thunder overhead, waiting for lightning to strike.
Instead, he heard Mateo’s words: Don’t do this.
Nino opened the refrigerator door again, picked up a jar and stared at its sludge-like contents. Who in their right mind would pour this stuff on cocoa beans? When Mateo had briefed him about the process of chocolate fermentation, he’d said, “And then they add yeast.” Nino had assumed it was powdered yeast.
He cracked open the jar he held. The lid released with a pop. It smelled nothing like the rich, delicate chocolate Aubrey had provided for the chocolate tasting.
Was she deceiving him?
Feelings tried to surface–anger, indignation, jealousy for what she had. Those negative feelings rippled along his skin in a wave of cold, much like the fast rolling thunder overhead. And then, the negative feelings in him subsided. Aubrey would never design such a ruse. She was too straightforward in her defenses. She’d wanted to give Marcos Alfaro a piece of her mind face-to-face. She’d lined up her chocolate next to his on a table for all to see. She would never lie about this horrid jar of yeast being the secret to her chocolate’s success.
But there was only one way to know for sure. Pour some of this smelly stuff into his water bottle and take it back to Caradoc Confections. Use it to propagate more. His chocolate would improve significantly from the next harvest. So easy. So close.
Don’t do this.
You’ll have regrets.
Nino swallowed.
And the thunder rolled.
*
“Dinner is served.” Aubrey carried two plates filled with beans, rice, and a small amount of chicken to the porch, noting Nino’s odd expression.
His gaze didn’t meet hers.
Clouds bunched along the mountain cliffs to the south, banging together and rumbling. The monkey had moved farther away as well, its high-pitched screech dulled with distance. The door to the convent was open and the nuns were eating around a simple wooden table, enjoying the little breeze and the bounty Aubrey had provided in silence. In deference to the temperature and the heat of cooking, Aubrey had removed her riding leathers and stood in black leggings and a white tank top. She’d been hot inside, but now her skin pebbled with chill.
Nino washed a hand over his face, but he couldn’t wash away the guilt in his eyes.
No.
He’d taken her yeast.
Her family had been right.
Aubrey’s entire being tried to cave and crumble. She managed to continue standing, to keep breathing, to extend a plate.
“You’re worried.” Sitting on a blue plastic crate, Nino accepted the food. “About your harvest?”
She nodded woodenly, because that small lie covered for everything she was feeling–hurt, anger, despair and the painful beginnings of a broken heart.
“I know how important this is to you.” He nodded toward the crate next to him. “Come. Sit. It’s bad luck to eat alone.”
“Bad luck,” she muttered, still standing. “That’s my middle name.” At least, since she’d arrived in Ecuador and met Marcos Alfaro.
“Don’t be silly, mi cielo. You have been blessed. After all…” He tapped his chest. “…you met me. Now, tell me all about these plans of yours for the volcanic cocoa plantation.”
“You want me to tell you how to start a cocoa plantation in volcanic soil.” She shook her head. “Why does every conversation we have need to be about business? Ask me if I’ve ever thought of marriage. Of babies. Of growing old alone.”
“It’s just my habit.” He smiled at her, but his perfect lips sagged at the corners. “When I look back on these days, I don’t want to think I shortchanged myself by talking about business when I could be talking about you.”
Behind her in the convent, Sister Mary Ofelia snorted. “He’s got romance on his mind.”
“And who wouldn’t?” Nino countered. “A beautiful woman. A balmy night. All we need are candles.”
“And music.” Sister Mary Rosa began to sing in a high, thready voice about the discovery of true love.
Aubrey wanted to be ill. True love? It wasn’t to be found here. This was an experiment gone wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.
“Come. Sit with me,” Nino said again, using his bedroom voice, the one that called to something deep inside of her. “You can trust me.”
“Can I?” He’d refused to sleep with her. And now…
His gaze drifted down the stairs toward the refrigerator.
“Nino.” His name came out in a whisper. “How could you?” She may have whispered the question, but her body wanted no part of subtlety. She kicked the crate he’d invited her to sit on with her boot, banging it into the outer wall of the convent.
*
Something darted out of the crate when Aubrey kicked it. Something the size of Nino’s fist, but hairy.
Nino’s blood ran cold.
As a teen, one of his jobs had been to unload banana crates from small farm trucks, transferring them to bigger trucks bound for the port to the east. He’d seen spiders like this leap out at men and bite. The Wandering Spider was large and aggressive.
And fast. So fast. It scurried up Aubrey’s black leggings, pausing on her knee to balance on four of its eight legs, baring its red fangs at her.
Aubrey’s scream pierced the air, louder than the monkey’s.
Nino swatted at the spider, which turned to sink her quill points into the flesh around his thumb. He flung the hairy devil over the porch railing and watched it scuttle beneath the convent toward the refrigerator.
Aubrey was screaming in Spanish. “He’s been bit! He’s been bit!”
Both their plates were on the deck, food splattered across the wood. He didn’t remember dropping his plate.
The pain struck then, a pulsing, piercing heat that seemed to encompass his entire hand.
Thunder rolled from the valley up the hill to the convent.
“It’s going to rain soon.” Nino couldn’t believe he’d been bitten. He’d never been attacked before. All those years lugging banana crates in the heat. Not that it was hot now. Nino began to feel a chill across his forearms. “I didn’t realize the convent had air conditioning.” How else could he explain the sudden burst of cold air?
“We’ve got to get you inside.” Aubrey grabbed his arm with tender urgency. “Before you collapse.”
“I’m fine.” But his legs moved woodenly toward the door as the sounds of the jungle, the convent and Aubrey were muffled in his stuffed ears.
*
The nuns converged on the door, blocking Aubrey’s path.
“He is unmarried,” Sister Mary Ofelia said, a commanding presence despite her ill-fitting habit.
“He can’t come in.” Sister Mary Lucia clutched the door frame and stared at the blood dripping from Nino’s hand.
“He was bitten by a spider.” Aubrey couldn’t contain the fear in her voice. She’d never seen a spider that large before. She’d been frozen in terror while Nino had acted quickly, batting the spider away to save her. “He needs medical attention.”
“I will treat him on the porch,” Sister Mary Rosa wheeled her walker toward the door, a white metal first aid kit on her seat.
The first raindrops began to fall.
“Sisters, he can’t stay out here,” Aubrey pleaded.
“We are honor-bound by the rules of our order.” Sister Mary Ofelia was calm and frowning. She’d be calm and frowning on judgment day.
Beside her, Nino swayed.
Aubrey pulled his arm over her shoulders, willing herself not to stumble when he leaned on her for support. She loved him. He needed care, tender loving care. “Where is the honor in letting a sick man stay out in the rain?”
“It’s not about honor,” Sister Mary Ofelia said gruffly. “It’s about a promise made to God.”
Sister Mary Rosa pushed her walker between the other two nuns. “Take him downstairs to the cot before paralysis sets in. We will tend to him there.”
Paralysis?
“But…” Aubrey hadn’t even brought a cot downstairs. “That’s where the spider went. How can you be so heartless?” The rain turned angry, pounding the earth, Nino, and Aubrey. She dripped as much as the eaves.
“We’ve taken a vow.” Sister Mary Lucia looked at Aubrey with empathy. “You can take a vow and bring him in.”
“No,” Nino murmured, dropping to his knees in slow-motion, his face a sickly green.
Aubrey stumbled to her knees next to him. “You’ll let him in if I become a nun?”
“No.” Sister Mary Rosa reached across the threshold to place her palm on Aubrey’s forehead. “A vow to take this man as yours. Unido.”
“I…I…” I what?
I can’t marry him?
I won’t marry him?
He doesn’t love me.
But he’ll die if I don’t do something.
The skies opened with a rattle of thunder and the rain became a downpour.
“What a powerful showerhead.” Nino turned his face to the heavens, torso swaying.
And there was her answer. “I can’t marry a man who’s delirious.”
“Then take him downstairs.” Sister Mary Ofelia put on a hooded rain slicker and stepped onto the porch. “Quickly. He seems susceptible to the poison.”
Nino sagged against her and whispered, “Mi cielo”
“All right. All right. I’ll marry him. But hurry.”
She hoped if Nino lived and regained his senses he’d have no memory of their union.
Chapter 14
Aubrey was married.
There’d been no dress, no flowers, no ring. There’d been no I do either. Nino’s assent had been a grunt, prodded out of him when Sister Mary Ofelia pinched his side.
Aubrey was married, but she was certain her union wouldn’t hold up in a U.S. court of law.
She sat on a short wooden stool and held her husband’s good hand. It was limp and warm, not a good sign. She glanced at the wooden cross on the wall above the bed, the only decoration in the small room. The wind blew through the sagging screen on the window, splattering drops of rain beneath the sill. Nino filled the cot. His feet hung over the edge.
The spider’s poison was fast-acting and seemed to be the big man’s kryptonite. His breath came in raspy gasps.
Sister Mary Rosa had cleaned Nino’s wound and applied Dapsone, an antibiotic cream. She’d used the last of it. They needed more. While the nun dissolved analgesic in water, Aubrey had removed Nino’s riding leathers and his heavy blue jeans beneath. Anything to keep his temperature down.
And now, she refused to let go of his hand. “I’ve never heard of a spider bite felling a man so quickly.”
“It is like bee stings. Deadly to some and not others.” Sister Mary Rosa leaned over from the seat in her walker and brought a cup to Nino’s lips. Most of the liquid spilled on his black T-shirt. “Your husband needs treatment in a hospital.”
Aubrey wanted to ask if Nino was going to die and leave her a widow. Instead, she stood and reached for her riding leathers, which were in a heap in the corner. “I’ll take him.” They were deep in a valley without cell phone reception. There was no way to call for help.
Sister Mary Rosa placed a cool hand on her forearm. “Child, it is fifty miles and too dangerous in this weather.”
Fifty miles on the rural roads would take hours.
Thunder clapped above them, shaking the convent. The rain was relentless.
“But…” Aubrey clutched her riding gear to her chest and stared at Nino’s pale face. “I’ll risk it for him.” He’d do the same for her. She was sure of it. “I can’t let him die.”
“Wait for the storm to pass,” Sister Mary Ofelia said from the doorway
, gripping the cross that hung from her neck.
“Then drive to the village and call for help.” Sister Mary Lucia had dragged a chair into the hallway where she could see and pray.
“Bring back Dapsone,” Sister Mary Rosa added.
“I can’t leave him.” Aubrey was afraid if she did she’d never see him alive again. The thought landed in her chest with a crushing weight that threatened to break her. “I won’t leave him.”
“You will find there are many difficult things you can do,” Sister Mary Ofelia said evenly, talking above Sister Mary Lucia’s prayers. “If you have love in your heart.”
*
As soon as the thunder and rain abated a little, Aubrey found the courage to leave Nino in Sister Mary Rosa’s care.
“Mateo?” Aubrey rode into the next village where there was decent cell phone reception and called Nino’s assistant using his phone. She stood beneath a small overhang outside the only store in town, her leathers drenched. “Nino…Marcos… He needs you to medi-flight him back to Quito. As soon as you can.”
“Did you shoot him?” Mateo asked calmly.
“No.” Aubrey was taken aback, pushed past her fear and panic toward the reason for the trip. Had Mateo known Nino was going to steal her yeast? “I don’t even have a gun. Mateo, this is serious. Nino took a spider bite for me.” Which was kind of like taking a bullet, she supposed. She hadn’t figured spiders into her love experiment.
Mateo promised to arrange an early morning pick-up at the village, which had a flat field where a helicopter could land. “Thank you, Dr. Summer.”
“It was the least I could do.” That, and marry him.
After she hung up, Aubrey woke the store owner and purchased additional medicine. She rode back to the convent as quickly as the muddy roads allowed. One thought remained: What if Nino doesn’t make it through the night?
She parked the motorcycle beneath the convent stairs and prepared to run up. The motor of the refrigerator kicked in, humming loudly. It wasn’t a pleasant hum. It was the hum of guilt.
Before the spider attack, Nino had looked so guilty.
And Then He Kissed Me Page 13
