A Baby Changes Everything (4 page)

It was no secret that Hank had set his cap on becoming a trainer, that he'd spent hours of his free time watching Cruz as he put horses through their paces.

But Cruz knew watching and feeling an instinct were two different things. You couldn't learn instinct. Even the thought of sharing the responsibility of training the horses didn't sit well with him.

“I'll keep it in mind,” he replied, in the same tone of voice that parents used to make children believe they had a ghost of a chance of something coming true, when in reality the exact opposite was more likely.

Hank ran his hand along his neck, nodding. The look in his eyes when they met Cruz's said he knew that what he'd just suggested wasn't about to happen anytime soon.

Hank blew out a breath as he set his hat far back on his head. “Yeah, well, it was just a thought.” Putting the credit card into his shirt pocket, he stuck his hands into his back pockets. “Want me to take the Mustang?”

“No, take the truck,” Cruz told him. He dug the keys out
of his jeans and tossed them to the other man. “You're going to need the space,” he added.

“Yeah, right.”

Hank closed his hand around the keys. Walking off toward the parking area, he called one of the other hands over to join him in his trip to Red Rock.

Watching him go, Cruz frowned.

The man hadn't even asked to take the proper vehicle. How was Cruz going to make him a foreman if he didn't have enough sense to take a truck instead of a small, vintage Mustang when he went to get four saddles and fresh feed for the horses?

And this was the man Savannah wanted him to put in charge directly under him? No way. Cruz was going to have to stay on top of everything—unless he wanted La Esperanza to quickly become the property of the bank that held its mortgage.

He knew he had to get started, but he took a second to walk over to Diablo. The stallion was at the far end of the corral, separating himself from the other quarter horses as if he knew he was special.

No failure of ego here, Cruz thought, amused.

He climbed up to the top rung of the fence, holding on to it as he leaned over the railing. Eyeing him, the horse took a few steps back, but not enough to display fear. The horse, Cruz sensed, had a will every bit as strong as his own.

That made them both fighters.

“This is your new home, Diablo. You'd better get used to it.”

As if to show that he understood and that he was dis
pleased, the stallion pawed the ground, tossing his mane in a gesture that could only be called defiant.

In a way, Cruz knew how he felt. As a young man, he'd refused to allow himself to be sublimated into the Fortunes' world, even though for the most part he both liked and respected the members of the family.

Sublimation was for his parents, but not for him.

“You'd better know now,” he told Diablo, “that kind of behavior doesn't put me off. You might have been top dog at the last ranch, but you've met your match here. We're going to get together, you and me, and be friends. That's a promise.”

He made no attempt to reach out to touch the horse, or even to enter the corral. The horse required his space. For now Cruz would respect that. But the animal did need to get accustomed to his presence in his world.

Training would begin early tomorrow morning, before he even started working with the others. Half an hour, twice a day. He didn't have the time, but he'd find it. Even if it meant doing some more delegating.

An excitement pulsed through Cruz. He hadn't felt this alive in a long time.

 

While watching her reflection in the wardrobe mirror, Savannah realized that her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she smoothed the sides of her dress.

She stared down at her hands. They were also tingling. And damp.

She shook her head and silently laughed at herself. You'd think she was going out on her first date. There had to be a hundred butterflies all vying for airspace inside her stomach.

For once, she didn't feel like collapsing or throwing up. The newest Perez-in-the-making had decided, for now, to cooperate with its mother.

Thank God for small favors, she thought.

The moment her father-in-law had come for Luke, she'd dashed off to Red Rock to buy things for the dinner she wanted to make for Cruz.

But before going to the supermarket, she'd stopped by the mall. Not to buy a new dress, but a new nightgown. Something just sheer enough to get his blood pumping in double time.

She'd picked out a full-length one that had a network of lace across her breasts and two layers of sheer, light blue nylon swirling around her hips down to the floor.

She couldn't wait to see the expression on Cruz's face when she wore it.

Returning home, she'd cleaned the house and started dinner going before finally going upstairs to change out of her jeans and into her dress for the evening.

Right now she had both dinner and herself warming, waiting for Cruz to make his appearance. She glanced at the clock. It was a little after seven.

She'd already called him on the cell phone she'd insisted he carry with him when he was on the range. It had taken eight rings before he'd finally answered. The second he came on, she'd launched her assault.

“Cruz, I need you to come home.”

The preoccupied note immediately left his voice, replaced by concern. “Why? What's wrong? Did something happen to Luke?”

“No, nothing happened to Luke—”

“You? Did something happen to you? Is it the baby?”

“No, honey,” she interjected before his imagination took him to terrible places. “It's not the baby, or me. Luke and I are fine.”

“Then why are you calling?”

She never used the telephone to get in touch with him. They had agreed that it was strictly for emergencies. As far as she was concerned, saving a marriage that was about to break apart came under that heading.

“Because I do have kind of an emergency here and I need you to come home.”

Suspicion and concern vied in his voice. “What kind of an emergency?”

“It's too hard to explain, Cruz. You'll understand when you get here. Please just hurry.”

She'd heard him sigh. “Okay, I'm on my way.”

That had been over half an hour ago.

Obviously the man was a lot farther away that she'd thought. Savannah reached for the cell phone again, then stopped. She heard the sound of the Mustang pulling up to the front of the house.

He was here.

Butterflies launched another attack as she took a deep breath and waited.

Within a moment, Cruz was opening the front door. “Okay, so what's the big emergency?”

The question faded into the air as Savannah moved out of the shadows to greet him. She was wearing the same drop-dead gorgeous dress she'd had on the night he'd met her at the party at the Double Crown.

The night he'd lost his heart to her.

F
eeling a little like a man who had just stepped through some kind of time warp, Cruz closed the door slowly behind him. There was music wafting from somewhere on the first floor. Something soft and romantic, setting the mood.

Nodding a greeting, he continued staring at the deep green clingy dress. Memories came crowding back, bringing with them feelings he hadn't entertained in a long time.

Fear that she was ill melted into anger at being taken away from his work under false pretenses, then finally ebbed into confusion. “What's this all about?”

She couldn't gauge his reaction by his tone. It gave nothing away.

Savannah forced herself to erase five years of marriage from her conscious behavior. Tonight she was not the frustrated wife and harried mother she'd been for so long she
couldn't easily remember what it was like otherwise. Tonight she was attending a party at her friend Vanessa's house and had just seen the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on.

A man who radiated sheer animal magnetism with every move he made, every smoldering look he sent her way. From the first moment she'd seen him, Cruz Perez had made her blood rush through her veins just by being near. She desperately needed to recapture that sensation.

Needed to recapture, too, that essence within herself that had made him want her so much he was willing to forsake all the others who had come before her. And those who wanted to come after her.

With slow, measured steps, taken in strappy high heels that were, if she wore them at all, usually shed the second she walked in the front door, Savannah moved toward him. She looked every bit the huntress who had staked out her next prey and was confident of its capture.

Never mind that she was nervous, that she was afraid he'd laugh at her efforts, that she feared that what they'd had was now behind them. She masked those worries and did her best to look like a determined woman.

A determined, sexy woman.

“It's about getting to know each other,” she told him in a sultry voice.

Well, this was new. Cruz looked at her a little uncertainly. “You feeling all right, Savannah?”

“I'm fine.”

She trailed the back of her hand along his face, then slid her fingertips down his throat, lingering where it dipped in. Savannah became aware of his pulse. It felt as if it had accelerated.

Good!

Before she could press it against his chest, Cruz caught her hand and held it for a moment. Savannah was stirring things up and he wanted to be able to think clearly.

“Then what's this talk about getting to know each other?” he asked her. “We already know each other. I know everything about you and you damn well know everything about me.”

He had no secrets from her. She was the other half of his soul, and filled his thoughts. Didn't she know that?

“Everything?” Savannah teased, her breath dancing along his cheek.

She moved her head nearer, bringing her lips achingly close to his. At the last possible second she drew back, just when she judged Cruz was going to kiss her. A little effort, a little pursuit helped to spice things up. She didn't want this to be too easy, even though part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms and make love right here and now until there wasn't a breath left within her body.

The look in her eyes challenged him as she took him up on his claim. “If you know me inside and out, what color underwear am I wearing?”

What had come over her? He spread his hands wide, trying to harness his confusion. “I don't know.” And then, because she looked as if she was waiting for some kind of an answer, he gave one. “White?”

She moved her head from side to side slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “No.”

He made another stab, picking her favorite color. “Blue?”

That was the color of the nightgown she was going to wear for him tonight. If clouds could be called blue. “No.”

Exasperated, he held back his temper. “Okay, then, what color?”

Instead of answering, she took his hand and lightly placed it against her hip. With her eyes on his, her hand covering his, she slowly rotated his palm toward her buttocks.

Savannah watched with pleasure as a light came into her husband's eyes. He lifted his brow as a surprised, sensual smile came to his lips.

“You're not wearing any.”

“The man gets a prize.” She moved her body against his, silently indicating that she was the prize he had won.

Tired though he was, Cruz could feel himself responding to her. After all, until life and its myriad details had caught up to them and dragged them both down, burying them beneath a ton of responsibilities that only insisted on multiplying, they'd had an incredible sex life.

For all her innocence, Savannah had turned out to be the best natural lover he'd ever had. Considering the fact that he was far from a novice, this was saying a great deal.

Yearning seized him the way it hadn't for a long time. But even as he lowered his mouth to hers, Cruz suddenly stopped himself and looked around uneasily.

“What's wrong?” Didn't he want her anymore? The question feverishly throbbed in her head, ushering fear in its wake.

“Honey, what if Luke walks in on us?”

She offered up a silent prayer of thanks. He
did
want her, he was just being a good father. Her mouth softened into a smile. “Then I'd ask him what a five-year-old was doing walking all the way over from the other side of Red Rock.”

Cruz's brows knitted together in a confused line. “I don't—”

Poor darling, he really was tired, not to immediately make the connection.

But not so tired that she hadn't gotten to him, Savannah congratulated herself. She could feel his body hardening. Wanting her. At least she still appealed to him, she thought with not a little relief. She'd begun to have her doubts.

“Our son is staying at your parents' house tonight, bless them. Your dad came by earlier today to pick him up.”

Cruz stiffened slightly. “You told them you were doing this?”

She knew what a private man her husband had turned out to be, even about something as natural as this. She framed her words carefully. “I told them we needed some time alone together. Maybe they think we're painting the baby's room.”

Cruz laughed and shook his head, relaxing. “My parents are not dumb people.”

No, they were smart beyond books and very in tune to what was happening around them. She'd seen more than one display of affection between her in-laws. Not like with her own parents. All the years she'd spent growing up, she had never witnessed so much as a chaste kiss between the two. The only thing that had ever been remotely hot had been the words they had thrown at each other.

“Maybe that's why your parents have such a long, healthy marriage.”

Cruz took her into his arms, toying with the tendrils of hair along her neck. How long had it been since he'd seen
her like this? Soft, relaxed, stirring. “You saying our marriage isn't healthy?”

It wasn't terminal, Savannah thought, but it certainly was ill. Using humor, she allowed snippets of honesty to come through.

“I'm saying it's in danger of having rigor mortis set in.” Savannah wiggled against him, deliberately tempting him. “Use it or lose it. The way I see it—” she let her eyes dip down his torso “—all the parts are still under original warranty.”

“Okay, let's see what we can do about wearing out a few of those parts.” Cupping her face, Cruz lowered his mouth to hers. He was utterly surprised when, instead of kissing him, Savannah moved back and took a few steps away from him. Confused, he stared at her. “Now what?”

Savannah nodded toward the dining room behind her. “We eat first.”

“Eat?” He said the word as if he didn't fully fathom what it meant.

Turning on her heel, she began to lead the way. “I made all your favorites—”

Cruz caught her hand, turning her around again until she faced him. “Good, then let me start by sampling my
very
favorite.” He kissed her shoulder, causing the butterflies that had been in her stomach to spread their wings and take to the air.

Her very skin was sizzling.

It was working.

He was beginning to sound the way he had when she'd first met him. When she'd first married him. He'd been sexier than hell back then. All she wanted was to have him back, and now here he was.

She moved out of his reach again. “I want to draw this out, make it last.”

He winked at her, that grin she loved so much curving his mouth. “I'll do my very best.”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “I meant by eating dinner first.” As if to mark his place for him, Savannah leaned into Cruz and lightly brushed her lips against his. When he started to kiss her, she pulled back. “Dessert will be served upstairs.”

Cruz caught her in his arms and kissed her, his mouth hard against hers. The kiss made her melt. Made her body temperature rise several degrees in wild anticipation of what was to come.

They hadn't made love in so long, she'd lost count of the days. Of the weeks.

She could feel her body rejoicing.

Savannah wound her arms around his neck, cleaving to the warmth of him, losing herself in the mind-spinning effect that his mouth had always had on her. To hell with her carefully laid plans; she was seizing the moment.

And then she felt his hands on her shoulders, moving her back.

Stunned, dazed, she all but stumbled backward. It took her a second to focus on his face.

Cruz smiled, pleased at what he saw. Two could play the game she'd come up with, and maybe she had something there at that. Maybe making her the slightest bit unattainable did heighten the stakes, did increase the anticipation rather than simply gratifying himself instantly.

He was willing to go along with that, even though, when he'd walked into the house, he'd been more tired than an eagle after a three-day, nonstop flight.

He loved seeing the effect of his kiss on her, loved seeing how her lips were pink and slightly swollen. “Consider that a retainer.”

It took Savannah a moment to process his words. And then she laughed. “I want payment in full, the second we cross that threshold.”

He gave her a quick, two-finger salute. “Consider it done.”

As he walked with her into the dining room, Cruz placed his hand on her hip, silently reaffirming not just the emotional but the physical bond that existed between them.

About to sit down, he stopped himself at the last moment and went to help Savannah with her chair. Her surprised look melted into a pleased one, making the extra effort worth it.

When had all the niceties eroded between them? Had they been erased by the comfort of familiarity, or had he and his wife just become too tired to care?

This was better, he thought.

“Everything smells good,” he stated as he sat down. “Especially you.”

There was hope, she told herself, pleased that she'd thought to do this. Pleased with his response. She'd begun to think that maybe they had gotten beyond salvaging. That they'd become an old married couple years before their time, taking each other for granted and just existing side by side instead of actually living each moment fully the way they had when they'd first gotten married.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Pleasure brought color to her cheeks. She could feel it spreading.

Cruz flashed her an apologetic smile as he helped himself to the burritos rancheros Savannah had carefully ar
ranged in the serving dish. They were smothered in sour cream and guacamole sauce. He took a good portion of each.

“I'm afraid I smell a little ripe.”

She grinned. That had never bothered her about him. “I don't mind a little perspiration,” she told him. “On you, it's a very manly smell.”

He put the spatula back in the dish. “You're easy to please.”

Her eyes met his. God, but she loved this man. “In some ways,” she agreed, then felt compelled to add, “in others, not so easy.”

There was chilled wine waiting on his pleasure. He took only a little, feeling bad that she couldn't have any. The wine felt good as it slid down his throat, enhancing the mood.

“Is that a riddle?” he asked, setting his glass down.

“You can work it out later.” Her voice was low, husky, full of promise.

To his surprise, Cruz felt himself getting excited again.

He found himself hurrying through the meal, barely aware of what he was eating, only that it was tasty. His plate was cleaned within fifteen minutes of sitting down at the table, the contents washed down by a little more wine.

Cruz noticed that Savannah's plate was clean, as well. But in her case it was because she'd taken next to nothing to begin with.

He nodded toward her plate as he pushed his own back. “Not hungry?”

She gave a little shrug, the light dancing off her bare shoulders. “I ate while I was making it.”

It was a lie, but one that she was allowed, she thought. If she made him aware of just how little she consumed during the course of a day, he'd worry. The truth was, she was afraid that if she ate more than the small portion of plain rice she'd prepared for herself, all her plans for the evening ahead would be ruined.

There was little doubt in Savannah's mind that she would wind up spending the night in the bathroom, being ill.

As it was, ever since she'd become pregnant with her second child, waves of nausea kept assaulting her at the most inopportune times. They were at their most predictable shortly after a meal.

Shortly after this meal, she intended to be naked and entertaining her husband, as well as being entertained by him. A sudden run to the commode did not come under that heading.

Finished with his meal, Cruz began to rise with his plate.

His mother, Savannah mused, had trained this man well. But tonight that didn't make any points.