Ready for Marriage? (31 page)

‘‘Isabela told me. I’m so sorry.’’

He stopped talking abruptly and went still. Then he stared out the window at the street. ‘‘Well…’’ He gulped in a deep breath and then another, as if unable to go on.

Just watching him caused a lump to form in her throat.

‘‘You came to love her. I can tell.’’

‘‘Yes. I didn’t grow up accustomed to love. I’d never known what it was. So love came as a surprise to me.’’

‘‘My parents died when I was a little girl,’’ she began softly. ‘‘Just like that—everything was gone. People vanish, and there’s this big hole in your life you can never fill.’’

He looked up at her. ‘‘And you don’t know what they meant to you until they’re gone. It was as if there were all these barrels of love inside me. While she was alive they’d been shut up tight. When she died, they overflowed, and suddenly I was drowning.’’

‘‘I thought my little brother was such a pest. Then—’’ She stopped and shut her eyes. ‘‘An uncle I hadn’t really known
took me in. He showed up right after the funeral. I told him I didn’t want to be adopted. And you know what he said?’’

‘‘What?’’ Cash was staring at her intently.

‘‘‘How about you adopt me, then?’ There were tears in his gray eyes—eyes that reminded me of my father’s, only his face was softer, kinder. He knelt and I hugged him. And after a while my life got all right again, better than all right. In fact my life with Uncle Morton and his friends was wonderful…if unconventional.’’ She wasn’t quite ready to tell him about Uncle Morton. ‘‘It set me apart, but it broke down a lot of barriers. Your money separated you, but I learned people are just people, that labels are just labels. And that they aren’t really right most of the time.’’

When Cash stared out at the noisy street at a man who was sweeping the trash into piles, she resumed talking even though she wasn’t sure he was listening. ‘‘I wanted to grow up and fall in love. To have children. To be happy like my parents. I thought it would be so easy to marry and be part of a happy family.’’

He selected another fig. ‘‘Then you met Julio.’’

‘‘And at first it was easy, but it didn’t work out.’’

He nodded. ‘‘Go on.’’

‘‘You said I need to grow up. Maybe I have already. I thought I loved Julio so much. That’s why I’m afraid of marriage now…afraid of trusting my instincts again. I wouldn’t want to give so much of myself just to lose it all again. Miguelito loves so easily. I don’t want his heart broken. I want life to be different, but I’m afraid of repeating my mistakes.’’

‘‘Maybe you have to try anyway.’’ He stared at her. ‘‘All I wanted when I came here was to marry again, I guess because I couldn’t bear living alone.’’

‘‘You make living with someone sound so easy…as if anyone will do.’’

‘‘Maybe I was being stupid,’’ he said thoughtfully.

‘‘I’m not sure you can just pick whomever you want. People can’t be replaced,’’ she said.

‘‘I know. But I guess it’s all in those expectations we talked about. Maybe I wasn’t expecting nearly as much as you. Maybe I thought anybody would be better than the emptiness I felt.’’

‘‘Isabela deserves to be loved too.’’

‘‘I believed I would fall in love as I did with Susana.’’ His eyes darkened with pain.

‘‘It’s not your fault, you know—what happened to your little girl and wife.’’

‘‘Any more than Julio’s cheating and your marriage ending is yours. You were simply incompatible, and now you must plan a new life.’’

‘‘Plan?’’ She smiled. ‘‘You make it sound easy. You’ve built a big life while I have a small one that is nothing like I envisioned. Lots of mornings I wake up and wonder, what am I doing here?’’

‘‘Miguelito adores you.’’

‘‘Yes—he does.’’

‘‘So, quit listening to your demons. Your life isn’t so small. It has meaning, and my big life feels pretty empty. Follow your dreams, and you’ll be fine.’’

Her eyes shone, and then she remembered about Sophie and all he’d lost, and she couldn’t look at him. ‘‘I’m sorry,’’ she whispered, putting her hand over his.

He flinched as if her fingers stung his warm, solid hand. Then he went rigid, and she knew it was because she’d touched him. Suddenly she remembered their kiss, and maybe he did too. The air became suffocating, and when his eyes met hers, she was intensely aware of him.

He looked at their locked hands and up at her, and his eyes took her breath away. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t seem to frame a single coherent thought. So their gazes did the talking.

Mammal to mammal, man to woman, they were right together in ways that had nothing to do with intellectual thought or words or even sex. He sighed as if he found much comfort
in her touch and in her friendship, and then, to her surprise, he put his other hand on hers, keeping it there until the waiter came with the bill.

‘‘Friends?’’ Cash whispered at last, lifting a brow as he reached for his wallet and pulled out a credit card to pay.

‘‘Friends…but
just
friends,’’ she emphasized. ‘‘We shouldn’t have talked,’’ she whispered.

‘‘‘We shouldn’t.’’’ He grinned teasingly. ‘‘Why do you keep saying that?’’

She pulled her cell phone out of her purse along with a card with a taxi’s number on it and placed a brief call.

When they walked out of the restaurant together into the brilliant sunshine that hit her like a blast furnace, the parrot squawked. ‘‘Taxi! Taxi!’’

‘‘Wonderful bird…mind reader,’’ she said, shading her eyes with her hand when she looked up at Cash.

‘‘And I thought we’d come to an understanding about that awful bird.’’

She laughed. ‘‘He’s a fan of mine.’’

‘‘So am I.’’

For a brief shining moment she felt he knew her better than anyone she’d ever met. Which was crazy.

Then he took her hand and brought it up to his lips slowly, as if he could not resist. His lips were gentle, but they burned, sending a message straight to her heart.

‘‘See you later,’’ she said too quickly.

He gave her a slow smile that melted every bone in her body as he let her go.

A cab rushed up to them spewing dark fumes, and Cash opened her door.

She smiled. ‘‘I called him for you. I have my own car. Two blocks away.’’

‘‘It’s too hot to walk. I’ll drop you.’’

When she bent from the waist to get into the back seat, she heard a wolf whistle that made her jump and whirl angrily
around, until she saw it was just the parrot, up to his old tricks.

Cash said, ‘‘At least that troublemaking bird and I agree about something. You’ve got the cutest butt in Mérida.’’

‘‘I think I’ll walk—’’

‘‘The hell you will!’’ He pushed her unceremoniously into the back seat, threw himself inside and slammed the door.

‘‘You’re evil,’’ she said, leaning forward to give the cabbie directions.

‘‘Sorry I made that comment about your…er…backside. Blame it on Mexico,’’ Cash murmured. ‘‘It does something to a man.’’

Before Vivian could think up an adequate retort, her cell phone rang. When she pulled it out of her purse, Isabela’s shrill, terrified voice nearly burst her eardrum.

‘‘Come home—now!’’

‘‘I’m on my way,
querida
.’’

‘‘Quickly, just come quickly. Something terrible has happened!’’

V
ivian sensed chaos even before she got out of her car.

Eusebio held on to Miguelito’s hand and Concho’s new collar until Vivian could properly park in the carport and turn off the engine, but the minute he let go, Miguelito and Concho sprang toward her.

‘‘Tía Isabela’s been stung by bees! African bees! Hundreds and hundreds of them!’’ Miguelito, his eyes huge, clapped his cheeks and moaned. ‘‘They tried to get me when I was swimming too! They were in the wall behind the purple flowers with the stickers.’’

‘‘Bougainvillea. Thorns,’’ she said. ‘‘But why?’’

‘‘When Pedro was using the weed eater, they really started buzzing.’’ He made sweeping motions with his arms. ‘‘They were a big black cloud. One landed on Tía’s arm and she swatted it. Then they all got mad at her and chased her!’’

‘‘Where is she?’’

Miguelito grabbed his mother’s hand and buried his head in her skirt. He held her fingers tightly, and she ran her hand
through his black hair. ‘‘In her bed. Will she die?’’ he whispered.

‘‘Of course not, darling.’’

‘‘Pedro called the doctor,’’ Eusebio said. ‘‘Señorita Isabela, she is crying like a little child.’’

Vivian cupped Miguelito’s chin. ‘‘No wonder you’re so scared.
Qué barbaridad
.’’

Miguelito looked up at her with big liquid-dark eyes. ‘‘Tía ran round and round in circles. Then she jumped into the pool and the bees kept buzzing the water. Every time she popped her head out, they stung her again. Then Pedro threw her some towels, and they chased him into the pool house.’’ He gulped in a deep breath. ‘‘I was hiding in there, and one stung my nose. See!’’

She knelt. He held still, so that she could inspect it properly. There was a microscopic red bump on the tip of his dusky nose.

‘‘Oh,
mi precioso
.’’ She hugged him close.

‘‘
Sí, me duele
,’’ he whimpered.
It hurts
. He squinched up his eyes, but he couldn’t quite manage a tear.

‘‘We’ll get some magic cream to put on it.’’

‘‘Can I watch cartoons the rest of the day?’’

Normally cartoons were forbidden.

‘‘Of course,
mi precioso
.’’

‘‘Will Tía really be all right?’’

When she nodded, he smiled radiantly.

Grabbing his hand, she raced with him to Isabela’s vast bedroom, which was dark and cool after the brilliant, hot sun.

‘‘Isabela?’’ Vivian opened the door softly.

A dramatic moan followed by a sob came from the bed. A voice that cracked after every syllable wailed, ‘‘My face is swo-llen like a watermelon! You can’t let
him
see me! Not like this!’’

‘‘Isabela—’’

When Vivian raced across the room, Isabela smothered her
face in her pillow. Vivian petted her black, silky hair. Slowly, after Isabela calmed a little, she peeled the pillow away.

‘‘I’m so ugly,’’ Isabela sobbed, and then she beat the pillow with her fists.

‘‘At least you’re not allergic.’’

Miguelito climbed onto the bed and stared at his aunt’s purple face. Black eyeliner ran down her wet cheeks. His beautiful mouth made an O. Then, with a gasp, he drew back and clung to his mother, hiding his face in her skirts again.

‘‘See—even
mi precioso
is afraid of me!’’

‘‘Are you in pain?’’ Vivian asked.

‘‘The doctor gave me several shots. So, no. But you have to entertain Cash for me…until I’m better.’’

Vivian shook her head. ‘‘I’ve got way too much to do.’’

‘‘You have to, Vivi. He can’t see me like this. Things haven’t been going well between us. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. He’s so cold all of a sudden. And now this! Maria says a
bruja
has cast a spell. She saw a dead bird nailed to the door last night. She says that’s a sign. She sent for a white witch to counteract it.’’

Vivian never ceased to be amazed that beneath the thin overlay of Catholic faith and the rational mind-set of its European conquerors, the Mexican people had at their core a passionate belief in native mysticism and ancient magic.

‘‘Forget about witches. Be logical. Cash cares about your inner beauty. He’ll sympathize. You can spend the day together here—talking and getting to know one another.’’

Isabela’s swollen face contorted. ‘‘Don’t you know anything?’’ She paused. ‘‘This is
his
fault. We had a date, plans, and he ran off and left me all alone this morning. He wouldn’t tell me where he was going. I—I had a wonderful picnic basket packed—’’

‘‘Then you stay here. Eusebio is back. He can drive Cash to the beach house to sketch. I don’t—’’

‘‘By himself?’’ Isabela seized her by the wrist. ‘‘You have
to go with him, but don’t take him to the beach house. Maybe I’ll be well tomorrow and able to take him myself.’’

‘‘I have plans with Miguelito.’’

‘‘Take him with you too. Show Cash some ruins. Uxmal is so lovely…and then go to Loltún.’’ Loltún was an underground cave with a beautiful pool.

Vivian gasped, not trusting herself to be alone with Cash. ‘‘You’re not listening.’’

‘‘You have to do this. Cash is restless. What if he grows bored and goes home? What if he doesn’t propose?’’

Vivian shook her head.

‘‘He has a ring. A huge beautiful engagement ring just my size. Maria was cleaning his room. She saw it.’’

‘‘You got Maria to spy for you?’’

‘‘If he doesn’t marry me, I won’t go to the United States. Then I won’t be able to take you with me.’’

‘‘I—I’m not sure my going with you is such a good idea anyway—’’

‘‘
Querida
, I’m desperate. Pathetic, I know. But I love him. Look at me. I’m so ugly. You have to help me.’’ Isabela was trembling.

‘‘I want to help you, but trust me, I just can’t do this one thing. I would do anything else. Why can’t Julio go?’’

‘‘Julio made Tammy jealous and they had a fight. He’s sulking and won’t answer his phone. I’ve left four messages. You’re the only person I trust with Cash. You can tell him wonderful stories about me. He’ll believe you.’’

Vivian flushed as she remembered their kiss in the market.

‘‘I love you—like my very own sister,’’ Isabela continued.

Which is why I’m the last person who should go
.

‘‘Think of everything I’ve done for you—and for Miguelito—when you had nobody else to help you. Just me.’’

For a heartbeat, Vivian wanted to confess…stripping…kissing…

Isabela’s voice dropped to a teary whisper. ‘‘You’ll do it, yes?’’

Vivian put a fingertip to her lips, and just touching them made her flush at the memory of Cash’s mouth on hers.

‘‘I can’t! I simply can’t!’’

‘‘What happened to avoiding each other?’’ Cash asked, his eyes wickedly alight as he helped Eusebio sling the heavy wicker picnic basket in the back of the Suburban.

Concho trotted up to her and sniffed Vivian’s hamper before she tossed it into the back seat.

‘‘This isn’t my idea! Since Isabela can’t go, she asked me to entertain you. I told her no, but she wouldn’t listen.’’

‘‘If you were Isabela, you’d be more enthusiastic,’’ he teased huskily. ‘‘What about Miguelito?’’

‘‘He’s watching cartoons and keeping Isabela company because he feels sorry for her.’’

‘‘Nice kid.’’

‘‘He has a soft heart.’’

Cash thumped the Suburban with his open hand. ‘‘So, it’s off to the beach house, then. Just the two of us?’’

His green eyes brightened as he studied her mouth and then the rest of her body with an intensity that caused her to blush.

‘‘No. That’s tomorrow…when she’s better. Isabela planned a trip to Uxmal, a picnic, and a visit to a cave with an underground swimming pool.’’

‘‘I’d rather go to the beach with my very own Aphrodite.’’

Nodding toward Eusebio, she glared mutinously at Cash. ‘‘You’d better behave. She has spies everywhere.’’

‘‘Good thing they don’t speak English.’’

‘‘They understand body language.’’

‘‘Body language,’’ he repeated, his gaze drifting over her again.

‘‘Would you quit?’’

‘‘To the beach house,’’ he said, his tone changing. ‘‘I’ll be a good boy and sketch. Then I’ll have a head full of ideas by tomorrow…to share with Isabela.’’

‘‘So, you really intend to work?’’

‘‘What other intentions do you suspect me of?’’ His amused-looking eyes were wide and sparkly beneath dense black lashes.

‘‘Work. That sounds nice and safe.’’

‘‘Nice? Safe? Unless you decide to strip again or seduce me into another torrid kiss.’’ His lips moved closer as if to tempt her.

She jumped back. ‘‘This isn’t going to work—’’

Concho whined.

‘‘Truce! White flag!’’ Cash grabbed a white bath sheet out of her hamper and waved it at her. His eyes flicked over her body again so hotly she feared he could see through tightly woven white cotton.

‘‘Okay.’’

When their bags, groceries, drinks and towels were stuffed into the back, Eusebio banged the cargo doors shut, then went up to the front of the car and lifted the hood.

‘‘And don’t forget your swimsuit,’’ Cash reminded her. ‘‘The red bikini. I have a hankering to see you
in
it. It’s in—’’

‘‘I know where it is,’’ she snapped, grabbing the white towel from him and slinging it back into her hamper.

‘‘I could get it for you. I mean, if you don’t want to return to the scene of our crime.’’

‘‘I’ll get it myself!’’

Concho caught the emotion in her statement and barked excitedly.

Feeling self-conscious because she was afraid Cash would watch her, which was exactly what he did, she stomped off toward the pool house with Concho bounding across the lawn beside her.

Dios!
She could feel Cash’s eyes burning her butt the whole way.

The cutest butt in Mérida, he’d said.

She whirled. Yes, indeedy, his alert tiger gaze was glued to her backside. He laughed and lowered his gaze.

But Eusebio didn’t. The chauffeur’s expression was too keen and speculative for her liking.

Behind Vivian, the glittering green Caribbean stretched to a cloudless horizon. Not that Cash was looking at the aqua sea or admiring the town of Progreso, which he had come to see.

Hell, he had eyes only for
her
. With the sea breeze in her red hair and the white
huipil
blowing about her breasts, and her skirt whipping her hips and slim legs, Vivian was beautiful. But it wasn’t just her beauty that got to him. It was the way her cheeks brightened every time he touched her or glanced at her. Her every blush, her every downcast glance to hide her true feelings made him remember their kiss. No one had ever been so responsive to him.

He was glad chance had forced her to come with him.

Behind her, waves rolled lazily up to the beach. In the distance a few swimmers splashed in the surf. The dense warm air, cooler here than in the city, smelled of salt, and mariachi music drifted from an open-air bar. The beach town had a laid-back feel.

He didn’t want to sketch. He wanted to romance her, to get to know her slowly, to talk over beers and fried fish, to dance together afterward.

If only he wasn’t so acutely aware of the dark figure leaning against the hood of Isabela’s parked Suburban, watching them as they strolled the promenade along the beach.

‘‘Before the hurricane, Isabela used to let Miguelito and me use her beach house anytime.’’ Vivian’s blue eyes sparkled.

Cash frowned with annoyance as he glanced from Vivian to the chauffeur. He felt increasingly guilty about not feeling more for Isabela—the last thing he wanted to talk about was her.

‘‘Can’t we talk about something else?’’ he said. ‘‘I wanted to know about the
henequen
plantations we passed getting here, but, no, all you would talk about, the entire twenty-two-
mile drive to this beach, was perfect Isabela. Surely no living mortal is as perfect as you describe her.’’

‘‘Oh, but she is,’’ Vivian gushed.

‘‘Then why are you so anxious to leave her and Mexico?’’

‘‘Not because she hasn’t been incredibly generous to me and to Miguelito. I just need to find myself. To do my own thing.’’

‘‘Are you lost?’’

She ran her hand through her hair and turned away. ‘‘Maybe ‘homesick’ is a better word. Or ‘unchallenged.’’’

‘‘How about ‘unfulfilled’?’’

She blushed at the charged innuendo. ‘‘When I came down here, it was to study for three months. I thought I would finish my degree before I married. Maybe work a while. But here I am—trapped by fate and bad judgment.’’

‘‘Because you’re a dedicated mother of a darling little boy.’’

‘‘You think he’s darling?’’ she asked.

He looked beyond her to the four-mile-long pier the natives had had to build to reach deep water because the Yucatecan limestone shelf declined so gradually into the Caribbean.

‘‘You chose well,’’ he said, after a moment, ‘‘to put him first.’’

‘‘Back to Isabela,’’ Vivian began.

‘‘Stop—’’

‘‘I feel so guilty being here with you…when she can’t be.’’

He grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers inside the warmth of his. ‘‘I don’t want to think about her. I’m perfectly happy here with you.’’

Again she blushed as if his touch and his words gave her too much pleasure. ‘‘Me too. Which is the problem…’’ She bit her lip.

He felt a warm flush of pleasure at the revelation that she liked him, and he drew her closer. The wind made her beautiful red hair ripple like a multicolored banner, the sunlight
changing it from shimmering copper to auburn to honey gold and then back to copper again. Why the hell couldn’t he forget seeing her naked or kissing her? Or how much fun it had been to tease her over breakfast?

‘‘No more talk about Isabela,’’ he whispered, letting her go but continuing to stare into her eyes.

‘‘She’s your future bride,’’ she whispered. ‘‘And she’s better to me than any sister ever could be.’’

‘‘Right,’’ he agreed in a bored tone. ‘‘But since we’re here in Progreso, and she’s not, maybe you wouldn’t mind playing tourist guide and telling me a few things about the town.’’

‘‘For instance?’’

‘‘Where the hell is everybody?’’ Cash pointed to the empty street and the Caribbean. ‘‘I thought Progreso was a resort like Cancún.’’