Someone Like You (Night Riders) (16 page)

“And you believed her?”

“She’s my sister. She had suffered, too. Why shouldn’t I believe her?”

Because she was a liar interested only in herself. Because she thought nothing of seducing an old man while he grieved over his wife’s death. “Do you still believe her?”

“I’m not sure it should be a question of whether I believe her, but more about what I think of the man you are now. Ten years ago you were young, very much in love, and grieving for your mother. It must have been incredibly painful to learn that the woman you loved wanted to marry your father. Anyone could be excused for going a little crazy.”

Why did he get the feeling she was trying to convince herself more than him?

“The important part is what you’ve done since. According to Broc you were little short of a saint during the war.”

“To a civilian, anyone who saves someone’s life is a saint. During the war we all did it more than once.”

“That’s something else I like about you. You never seem to think the things you do are out of the ordinary. You have no idea what an impression you’ve made on Luis.”

“I’m more interested in the impression I’ve made on you.” She looked down. Why did some women prefer to look at a man’s shirt buttons rather than into his eyes?

“You impress me as a man who’s sure of himself and takes his abilities for granted. Though I doubt you’ll admit it, you’re very much concerned for others. I think you regret some of the things that happened here, but have learned to accept the past and move beyond it. I think you take your responsibilities seriously, even the ones you don’t want. I think this is your home, that you’re looking for a reason to stay.”

“Would you be willing to be that reason?”

Her gaze flew to his face, her eyes wide and questioning. “I don’t understand.”

He was going too fast, but his curiosity was riding him hard. “Few men will make a major change in their lives for another man, be it a father or a brother. Every man will do it for a woman.”

Maria avoided his gaze. “I would never ask you to do anything like that for me. I don’t have the right.”

“What if I gave you that right?”

Maria looked up at him. “There’s too much history between you and Dolores, between you and your father, to make that possible.”

“What if the situation weren’t complicated? What if we were two ordinary people who’d met for the first time?”

She didn’t answer, just shook her head.

He had the feeling she knew the answer to his question and wanted to give it to him but was holding back. “Sometimes knowing what you want has a way of clearing up complications.”

“How?”

“Understanding your needs puts everything into perspective. If you want something enough, even past pain can cease to matter.”

“Is that how you feel?”

He would never be able to forgive Dolores for what she had done. She’d destroyed his life. She’d hurt his father, had a child she didn’t want, and had turned her own sister into a
personal servant. “I doubt some things in my past will ever cease to matter, but I hope I can reach the point where they won’t affect the decisions I make.”

“Do you think you can?”

“I can with a good reason, but I’m not asking you for one. Just asking what you might do if the past were different.”

She started to speak, then stopped. She paused so long, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. When she did, her response wasn’t what he’d hoped for.

“You have to know you’re an attractive man. Any young woman would be flattered to be the object of your attentions. I’ve already pointed out the qualities in you that I admire. If the past didn’t exist, I can’t imagine why any woman wouldn’t welcome your attention.”

Was she speaking of some hypothetical woman, or was she speaking of herself? Tightening his hold on her hands, he pulled her closer, until he could feel her brush against him, her hair smelling of lavender. “I’m not interested in what
any woman
would do, just what you might do.”

Still she didn’t look up. “I have a past of my own to forget. My father tried to force me to marry a stranger to save his land, but I refused. Dolores’s fiancé broke their engagement when she no longer had a dowry.” She paused, as though uncertain whether to continue. “If I’d married that man, my father wouldn’t have lost his land and committed suicide, and Dolores wouldn’t have lost her fiancé. I couldn’t do anything to help my father, but when Dolores invited me to live here, I vowed to do everything I could to make up for what I’d done to her.”

Rafe had had no idea Maria suffered under such a load of guilt. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your fault that your father lost his land, and he had no right to try to sacrifice you to save himself. And Dolores’s fiancé is responsible for breaking their engagement, not you.”

“But if I had agreed to marry Solomon—”

“Did you love him?”

“No! Dolores was the only one who stood up for me.”

Rafe couldn’t imagine Dolores standing up for anyone, but he had to admit she might have been different before her dreams had been so brutally destroyed. “You can’t judge all men by your father or her fiancé. A man of honor would never have done any of those things. I’m not without fault, but I hope you believe I’m honorable.”

Her expression was unreadable except for one thing. Pain.

“Will you tell me what is hurting you so much?”

She avoided his gaze, shook her head.

His patience snapped. “Would you stop mincing words and give me a straight answer?” Pilar would tell him that demand was a perfect example of why no woman would ever put up with him long enough to fall in love with him, but he never could understand why some people were satisfied to talk in circles without ever giving a straight answer.

“If the past didn’t exist, I could very easily fall in love with a man like you.” She tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t loosen his hold on her. “However, the past does exist. Since we can’t change it, your question is pointless.”

Surely she didn’t expect him to accept her conclusion as the end of their conversation. No red-blooded man who was this close to holding an attractive woman in his arms would give up. He released one of her hands and slipped his arms around her waist. “I don’t think the attraction between a man and a woman, regardless of the circumstances, is ever pointless.”

“I didn’t say I was attracted to you.” She tried to pull away from him, but not very hard. “I just said I could fall in love with a man
like
you.”

“I know what you said, but I don’t think you would have said even that much if you felt no attraction to me. I’ve admitted I was attracted to you from the beginning. Can’t you admit to being attracted just a little?” What was wrong with him? He was practically begging. What had happened to his pride? When did he start needing a woman so badly?

“I’ve already said I think you’re handsome. That pretty much means I find you attractive.”

That answer didn’t satisfy him. It was like catching a glimpse of something without being able to see the whole. “You could be speaking about a piece of furniture or a vase of flowers.”

“I prefer furniture that is functional as opposed to beautiful, and I think flowers shouldn’t be cut and brought inside to die.”

He tightened his hold on her and was pleased when she didn’t resist. That answered one of the questions she hadn’t. “Does it bother you that I find you attractive?”

“No.” It sounded like she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Do you mind my arm around you?”

She hesitated before answering, “Not really.”

He freed her other hand, then cupped her chin and lifted it until he could look into her eyes. They were huge, a warm brown, and looking straight into his own eyes. Why hadn’t he noticed how attractive they were? Her beauty radiated from the inside, which made her appeal that much stronger. It would be the same regardless of the setting. “I would never hurt you.”

“I know that now.”

But she hadn’t known it in the beginning. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for her initial wariness. He pulled her up against him, was surprised but pleased when she didn’t resist. He wanted to ask why she would allow him such familiarity without protest, but he was finding it impossible to think with his customary precision.

It had been more than ten years since he’d held a woman in his arms. He’d forgotten how desire could disrupt his thinking, could catapult his body into a state of such excitement that it was impossible for his brain to remain in control. With the little remaining brainpower he possessed, he searched for a way to convince her that his change of heart was sincere. His body had no doubt about the best way to do
that. A tiny shred of sanity warned that he was about to make a mistake, but the rest of him was beyond the point of listening to counsel. His last thought before going completely under was that avoiding women for so long probably hadn’t been a good idea.

The next thing he knew, he was kissing Maria. He couldn’t remember if he’d asked her or just pulled her into an embrace. He could remember every moment he’d spent in Dolores’s company, but none of them had felt like this. Being with Dolores was like suffering from a fever. Everything was hot, delusional.

This was different because Maria was kissing him back.

Dolores had
allowed
Rafe to kiss her. He’d been too besotted to realize what a difference it could make if the woman in your arms kissed you back. The feeling of Maria in his arms, of her lips on his, had the blood singing in his head and his groin swelling.

It was hard to believe how wonderful it felt to hold Maria, hard to believe he’d gone without this for ten years and had expected to continue to for the rest of his life. Why hadn’t he dried up and blown away? How could a man be really alive without a woman to touch that part of him no man could reach? How could he have gone so long without realizing he was dying a little bit each year?

His life had assumed a fixed shape, all hard lines and sharp angles. Even his friendships had been carefully contained. Cade and Pilar’s son had been the only exception he had allowed himself. Now that had changed.

Maria was soft and pliable yet strong and resourceful. She was the kind of woman a man could depend on rather than the kind who needed constant reassurance. She would build him up rather than wear him down.

Her lips were soft yet eager. There was nothing coy, no pretense. He didn’t want to think about the future or the past, just the present, and the wonderful feeling of holding
Maria in his arms. To luxuriate in the taste of her lips, the feel of her mouth, the warmth of her body. He knew he’d have to stop soon, but all he asked for was a few moments longer, enough time to—

“Rafe Jerry. Get your hands off my sister!”

R
afe couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard the door open. What a cruel trick of fate that the worst possible person should have been the one to walk through it. He didn’t need to step back from Maria. She’d jumped away from him as though propelled by a hidden force. He turned to see Dolores standing just inside the doorway.

“How dare you dishonor my sister!”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

Dolores ignored his protest. “I can’t believe you could hate me so much that you would ruin my innocent sister.” Turning to Maria, Dolores crossed the room in a few strides and folded her in a protective embrace. “What did he do to you?”

Rafe expected Maria to tell her sister to stop acting like a fool. He was stunned when she buried her face in Dolores’s shoulder.

Dolores held Maria close. “You don’t have to hide your shame from me. I know what he’s like, but I’ll see he does right by you.”

Maria’s head snapped up at that, but Rafe didn’t wait to hear her hoped-for protest. “I’ve done nothing to dishonor your sister. She was trying to convince me to stay here to teach Luis how to manage the ranch.”

“You expect me to believe my sister would stoop to trying to seduce you so you would teach Luis how to plant beans and peas?” Dolores’s indignation was magnificent, seemingly heartfelt.

“She wasn’t trying to seduce me.”

“So you
admit
you were trying to seduce her?”

“Dolores, this is ridiculous,” Maria protested. “You can’t believe—”

“I won’t listen to a word in his defense. He lured you to his room to take advantage of your innocence.”

“He did not.”

“He’s so handsome and sure of himself, any woman would be dazzled by him. I know I was.”

Rafe had had enough of this silly melodrama. “I was the fool who was dazzled.”

Dolores ignored him. “Rafe will marry you. If he won’t do the honorable thing, I’ll spread his dishonorable behavior all over the county.”

“To what end other than ruining your sister’s reputation?”

Dolores turned to him. “To force you to make an honest woman out of her.”

Rafe was about to make a heated response when a jarring suspicion flashed through his mind. Maria had suggested that they talk in his room, had shown only token resistance when he put his arm around her, had shown none at all when he kissed her. Dolores was supposed to be in town and wasn’t expected home until late. Why was she home early and how had she known where to find them? Only one explanation answered all those questions. The meeting had been a trap, and they had planned and executed it together.

He didn’t know whether he was more angry at them for their duplicity or at himself for his stupidity. Was there some curse on Jerry men that made them helpless victims when confronted with de la Guerra women? He wasn’t a lovesick boy and Maria wasn’t a great beauty. What had been his undoing this time?

“I have to offer my congratulations,” he said to Maria. “I came here already disliking you. Yet in one week you had me so convinced of the goodness of your heart, of the purity of your intentions, that you were able to maneuver me into kissing you so your sister could burst in and insist that I
marry you to save your reputation. Your conception and execution of the campaign was brilliant.”