Fierce Pride (46 page)

“I need to talk with the Gundersons first. Patricia might be a lot more excited about having you visit than they are.”

“Why?” Fox asked.

Santos grabbed for the first reasonable reply that occurred to him. “That’s just the way parents are.”

“I suppose. Hurry up, because most people already have their holiday reservations made.”

“I will,” Santos promised, but when he said good-bye, he sat there unable to even calculate the time difference for Minneapolis, let alone make the call.

Chapter Twenty

Santos phoned Maggie for help. “Fox wants to go to see Patricia over Christmas. Does that sound like a good idea to you?”

“I thought you weren’t listening to my advice.”

“I’m making this an exception.”

“Fine. You better call and talk to my father. If he isn’t as enthusiastic about Fox making the trip as Patricia is, then he’ll veto it.”

“So I can let him take the blame instead of me?” He was well acquainted with that underhanded strategy.

“Yes, Fox has to think you’re the good guy.”

“Then at least one person will,” he admitted softly.

“You sound so discouraged, Santos. Why don’t you make the trip with Fox? It would give you a chance to see Libby again. Maybe she’s gotten over you, and you could just be friends.”

He drew in a deep breath. “And if she hasn’t gotten over me?”

“I doubt your pride will allow you to imagine that, but it’s possible. There are a lot of good-looking men at the university, and she may have found someone new. If not, you can tell her you haven’t gotten over her and finally work out whatever your differences are. That’s if she’s speaking to you. When I drove her to the airport, all she said was, ‘Thanks for the ride.’ I wasn’t going to defend you, so it wasn’t much of a conversation. But whatever the risk, you ought to go.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s how you got into all this trouble. Stop worrying and just go. Minneapolis will be an adventure for you. Have you ever seen it snow?”

“No. I didn’t realize I wanted to.”

Maggie sighed. “Tell yourself you’re going to chaperon Fox and just do it. Call me when you make up your mind.”

“I will,” he promised. Fox really did need a chaperon, but he wasn’t qualified. Still, going with Fox would keep him from being thoroughly humiliated if Libby refused to see him. He thought about it for a long time and finally left the decision to a toss of a coin. He had to toss it several times to get an answer that didn’t make his heartache any worse.

By mid-December, Libby was finished with her classes and exams and had moved out of her sorority house and back home. She’d ended the semester with the highest marks she’d ever earned and had begun sending résumés, but so far she hadn’t received any positive replies. She’d been invited to holiday parties but had sent regrets rather than go and stand in the corner all evening, wishing she hadn’t come.

She’d bought presents for her family, had even gotten Maggie’s and Rafael’s into the mail in November, but it was Christmas Eve before she found enough holiday spirit to wrap her family’s gifts. Her father’s favorite author had a new book out, so he’d been easy to shop for. Her mother had remarked on a new cookbook, so she’d bought it for her. Patricia loved girly things, and she’d found a black nightgown with pink polka dots her sister would love.

She set the gifts on her desk and sorted through the ends of the Christmas wrappings, ribbons and bows. Next year, she hoped to be in her own apartment, where maybe she’d feel like decorating as beautifully as her mother always did. This year, she didn’t have so much as a tiny stuffed reindeer in her room.

When she heard Patricia’s high-pitched shriek, she went to the top of the stairs to see what her sister was up to now. Patricia was jumping up and down and hugging Fox as though they’d been parted for centuries, while Fox blushed so deeply his ears turned a bright red. Libby hadn’t realized the details of Fox’s trip had ever been finalized, but she was happy to see him. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and started down the stairs to say hello when Santos stepped through the front door.

He wore a tweed overcoat, and snowflakes melted in his hair. He looked up at her and flashed the grin that always weakened her knees. Shocked to see him, she collapsed on the stairs with a jarring thump.

Peter grabbed Santos’s overcoat and gloves. “We didn’t tell Libby you were coming.”

“Why was that, Daddy? Did you think I’d leave town?”

“Be nice,” her father warned her. “He’s come a long way to see you.”

Just looking at Santos hurt, and she stayed put, forcing him to come up the stairs to sit on the step below hers. Her father and mother ushered Patricia and Fox into the living room, leaving her alone with Santos in the entryway, which was no favor.

“Fox and I have rooms at the Hotel Minneapolis downtown,” he said, “so if you don’t want to see me again, you won’t have to.”

He had absolutely no right to look that good. Memories of him rolled through her with an anguishing heat. “That’s one of the best hotels. You’ll be comfortable there.”

“Fox and I dropped off our luggage and came here, but it looked nice enough. You promised me a tour of Minneapolis, but if you’d rather I—”

He looked so damn sincere, which left her troubled and confused. “What are you doing here, Santos? Tell me the real reason you came.”

He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I loved every minute we spent together, and I should have told you so. But when you had your future so carefully planned, I didn’t want to involve you in a life you’d soon regret. I just didn’t count on missing you so badly. The mistake was mine, and I made the wrong choice for us both. I should have talked to you until we’d found a compromise to make us both happy or we’d given up with mutual regret. But we should have done it together. I’ve been alone too long to understand that, which is no excuse.”

The sad light in his eyes touched her, but she remained cautious. “Isn’t it rather late for such valuable insights?”

“I hope not. Have you met someone else you care about?”

She wasn’t embarrassed to tell him the truth. “Since leaving you, I’ve simply felt numb and discouraged every man who flirted with me. I wouldn’t use another man to get over you. How could you think I would?”

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t.” He reached for her wrist and turned the gold bracelet. His fingers were warm against her skin. “I’m surprised you’re wearing this. I thought you might have thrown it away.”

Not when it was all she had of him. “I’ve never taken it off. Now tell me what’s happened to Victoria.”

He kept hold of her wrist and smoothed his thumb over her palm. “She went straight from jail to a psychiatric hospital. My father treated her badly, and she must have expected worse from me. Rigoberto apparently took up her cause, and when he died, she lost it. I would have sued for custody rather than leave a brother with a woman as badly disturbed as she is, but that possibility hurt her too. Now we’re back where we started. The Aragon men are better at hurting women than loving them. I thought you’d be better off without me, but I’m not better off without you. I hope that doesn’t sound selfish.”

She hadn’t even felt alive without him. Even now, with him sitting so close, her pulse was barely beating. “So you’re asking for another chance?”

“At loving you, yes. I won’t hurt you again. Ever.”

“You can’t promise that.” Overwhelmed, she looked down at her old, faded jeans. “I’m not dressed, and…”

He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You always look beautiful, but if you want to change your clothes, go right ahead.”

She smoothed her sweatshirt. “I do want to change, but I need time to think. I didn’t expect to ever see you again. Give me a minute.”

He brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait.”

The touch of his lips sent shivers up her spine. She longed to stay and get away all at the same time. The last impulse won, and she ran up to her room. She stared at herself in her bathroom mirror, mortified by how pathetic she looked, as vulnerable as she felt. It was amazing that after a single glance at her, Santos hadn’t rushed back to the hotel. The situation wasn’t hopeless, however, but she needed to channel her inner Miss Minnesota, and fast.

She showered and blew her hair dry, coiled it loosely atop her head and left teasing tendrils brushing her neck. She had short winter dresses and pulled a red knit from her closet. The long sleeves and high neck made her near-endless legs twice as enticing. Her hand shook as she applied her makeup with extra care, but when she left her bedroom, she looked the best she possibly could on such short notice.

Santos still sat on the stairs, looking as handsome as he did in the Aragon cologne ads. She could hardly believe he was real. He stood and smiled. “You look like Christmas.”

He looked like every holiday combined. “Thank you. I should have asked about your knee.”

“I can run on the beach and made it up these stairs.” He reached for her hand. “Is there someplace we could go to talk, or would you rather stay here?”

“Let’s go in the den.” She led him down the stairs and into the book-lined room where her father often worked late into the night. She closed the door and looped her arms around his neck. “I recall telling you one time that people ought to use more sense when it comes to relationships, but when it comes to you, I can’t cope with logic. Let’s just see if the magic is still there.”

He settled his hands on her waist to draw her against him. “A test? I’ll do my best.”

He began with soft gentle kisses, teasing her, luring her close. He did it so easily, and she responded as she always had and pressed against him. Clinging to him, she let him pull her past all hope of reason or restraint and didn’t draw away until a lack of oxygen made her dizzy. She sifted his hair through her fingers. “You still feel magical to me, and I’d recognize your cologne in a crowd.”

“You’d said you wanted some.”

“I didn’t open the box, and your posters are still in the mailing tube.”

“Then you didn’t see how I signed them?”

“Was it something special?”

He rested his hands on her hips. “I thought you might not translate them, but I said,
to my heart, my soul, my love, always
. Even if I hadn’t been able to say it to you, I wrote it.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Would you have come here in September if I’d understood and called you?”

He kissed her cheek and the tender spot behind her ear. “I wanted you to finish school, so probably not. Maybe I wasn’t ready. I’ve never thought of myself as slow, but I’ve never loved anyone but you.”

She loved standing in his arms. He felt warm and as solid as forever. “So you sent me away.”

“Seems really stupid now, doesn’t it?”

“It would have been stupid if you hadn’t come to your senses. Now what are we going to do about the fact I want a family and you’re overburdened with the one you have?”

He pulled her close. “You’re more important to me than playing it safe. I want to do what will make you happy.”

She leaned back to look up at him and smiled at the bright sparkle in his eyes. “Santos, really, who’s been coaching you?”

He laughed. “Maggie. She thought I’d still have a chance with you if I told you the truth.”

“I don’t know, the truth skitters around the Aragon family like mosquitos in Minnesota summers.”

He sighed. “That’s true, but we can hope to do better. Still, there’s no reason to tell people things that will hurt them, so some secrets are justified.”

She caressed his cheek. “True. I’m so surprised to see you. Are you really serious?”

“I’ve an engagement ring in my pocket. Is that serious enough?” He pulled out the small blue box.

His sly smile made her draw back. She’d never expected to see him again, and here he was with a ring? He could have at least made a phone call to warn her he was coming. He was always so damn sure of himself. Rather than scream, she bit her lip. “Were you that confident you’d need one?” she asked with forced sweetness.

He gave her a gentle kiss. “I knew how much I wanted you and thought it couldn’t hurt.”

Remembering the warm nights they’d shared in Spain, she realized there was very little the man could do to harm his cause; nevertheless, she gave him an impatient push. “Fine, then come and propose in front of everyone. I want witnesses.”

“Shouldn’t I speak with your father first?”

She opened the door. “I don’t feel like bothering with that formality tonight, and you want to please me, remember?”

“Yes, but I’d hoped for somewhere more romantic. Perhaps a dark closet.”

She laughed and closed the door to kiss him again. “I’ve really missed you. I haven’t laughed even once since I came home.”

“Then we’ve more to catch up on than I thought.” He opened the door and followed her into the living room. When everyone looked their way, he took Libby’s hand to pull her close. “I’d get down on one knee, but I might not be able to get back up, and you’d tease me about it on every anniversary. I love you, Libby. Will you marry me?”