Harvest Moon (15 page)

The driver returned and retrieved her luggage from the trunk of his car, then motioned with his head for her to follow him.
“Por favor, Senhora.”

She followed the man, grateful that he spoke Portuguese and Spanish. Each step she took brought her closer to her destiny, and she knew even if she did not marry Aaron Spencer their lives would always be linked to each other because of the tiny child growing beneath her breasts.

The solid wooden door opened and a petite, dark-skinned woman with crinkling, graying hair pulled back in a tight chignon glared up at her. Observing her, Regina saw every race of Brazil etched on her face: African, European, and Native Indian. It wasn’t possible to tell her age, because in spite of the graying hair her skin was flawless and wrinkle-free.

Her dark eyes saw everything, missing nothing—especially the diamond wedding band Regina wore on the third finger of her left hand. She drew in a quick breath, then let it out slowly,
turning her attention to the driver. “Tell Senhora Spencer that Senhor Spencer is not here, but she may come in.”

The driver translated in Spanish, and Regina smiled at the woman for the first time, nodding. She stepped into the entry and followed the woman through an inner courtyard open to the sky, then into a living room with a vaulted brick ceiling. She was not given time to survey her surroundings, since the woman gestured to her.

They made their way up a curving staircase with a wrought-iron railing, the driver following with her luggage, to the second floor. Thick, bare, white plaster walls and a brick flooring kept the interiors cool, offsetting the intense heat of a country set south of the equator.

The older woman opened the door to a room, and stood aside. Regina walked in, then the driver, who placed her luggage in a corner. A majestic octagonal ceiling rose twenty feet above bare, stark-white walls and a polished wood floor, making it a place of beauty. She knew instinctively it was Aaron’s bedroom.

Opening her purse, she withdrew several
reis
notes and handed them to her driver. He thanked her profusely in Spanish before turning to the housekeeper and addressing her in rapid Portuguese. Whatever he said seemed to affect the woman, who nodded apologetically.

He turned his attention back to Regina. “Senhora Pires will bring you some refreshment before you take your
siesta
. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay in our wonderful country.”

“I’m certain I will,” she replied, successfully stifling a yawn. What she wanted to tell the driver was that she did not want anything to eat or drink as much as she wanted to sleep, because she had eaten lunch during the flight. There was only a two-hour time difference between the eastern United States and eastern Brazil, so jet lag was not a factor.

Waiting until she was left alone, she removed her shoes, slacks, blouse and bra, but left on her panties. Then she pulled
back a colorful handmade quilt and slipped under a cool cotton sheet. The scent of Aaron’s cologne swept over her as she closed her eyes. Ten minutes later, the smell of coffee and fresh bread wafted in her nostrils, but she did not open her eyes.

If she had, she would have seen the cold fury in the depths of Magda Pires’s malevolent gaze.

R
egina woke hours later, totally disoriented. Lengthening shadows crisscrossed the room, giving no indication of the hour. Rolling over onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling. Then she remembered. She was in Bahia, and in Aaron’s bedroom.

“
Boa tarde
, Senhora Spencer.”

Recognizing the deep male voice, she gasped, noticing Aaron’s presence for the first time. He sat in a corner, his face hidden in the shadows.

Sitting up, she pulled the sheet over her naked breasts. “Good afternoon,” she replied, her voice lower than usual with the lingering effects of sleep.

Aaron closed his eyes, and at the same time his grip on the arms of the chair tightened. He forced himself not to move, not to go to her. His housekeeper had called him at the institute, asking if he would be home for the evening meal because his
wife
had arrived, and he had known she was referring to Regina Cole-Spencer. If she had introduced herself as Senhora Spencer,
then Magda would assume that she was his wife instead of his stepmother.

Opening his eyes, he visually examined the woman on his bed. She had changed. Missing was the waist-length curly hair, and in its place was a sleek style with the remaining glossy, black curls swept off her face and long neck. If possible, she was even more beautiful than he had remembered. She appeared older, more sophisticated.

Looping one knee over the other, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why did you come?”

Her gaze widened. “Why? Because I told you I would, that’s why.”

“You did not
tell
me, Regina. You left me a note!”

“I left you a note because I couldn’t face you.”

“Why? Because you were too much of a coward to say whatever you needed to say to my face?”

Regina felt a rush of heat suffuse her face. “It had nothing to do with cowardice. I had to leave when I did or I never would’ve returned to Florida. I’d been away for eight years—eight long years.”

Aaron uncrossed his leg, placing both feet firmly on the floor. “What are you talking about?” he questioned softly, rising to his feet and closing the distance between them.

Regina stared up at him in a stunned silence when she saw his face. If she had changed, he had, too. He still wore his hair close to his scalp, but he had added a moustache to his lean, clean-shaven face—a moustache that was an exact replica of Oscar’s. Her gaze followed him as he sat down on the bed beside her. She flinched slightly when he laid his right hand along her jaw.

“If I had left Mexico with you I don’t think I would’ve returned to the States,” she confessed.

“Why?” He leaned in closer, inhaling the clean, feminine scent that was exclusively Regina Spencer’s.

Her gaze fused with his. “Because I had fallen in love with
you, Aaron. It was easier for me to leave you at
El Cielo
than have you walk away from me at the airport.”

Aaron flashed an easy, open smile for the first time since he had returned to Bahia from Mexico. He arched a sweeping eyebrow. “You love me?” He seemed amazed by her admission.

Regina lowered her gaze in a demure gesture.
“Sí.”

“And I, you,” he whispered, pressing her gently back against the pillows cradling her shoulders. His mouth closed over hers, telling her silently how much he had missed her. What began as a tender joining, a series of slow, shivery kisses, became a hot, hungry possession as he devoured her mouth.

Succumbing to the forceful dominance of his mouth, Regina pressed her parted lips to his, capturing his thrusting tongue. The heat in his large, powerful body was transferred to hers, and her hands were as busy as his when she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his wide shoulders.

Their mouths still joined, Aaron quickly divested himself of his slacks and briefs. There was only the sound of their labored breathing and the whisper of fabric against bare skin, followed by the satisfied moans of their bodies joining in a familiar act of possession.

He suddenly went still. His passion for the woman he held to his heart was spiraling out of control, and he wanted to prolong their fulfillment until the last possible moment. It was not to be.

Lowering his head, his mouth closed over an erect nipple, causing Regina to writhe sensuously beneath him. He suckled her breasts relentlessly, the motion sweeping down her body to the secret place between her thighs, her soft whimpers firing his blood. Everything that was Regina—her feminine scent, silken limbs, husky voice, and tight, hot, moist body—pulled Aaron in so that he forgot who he was.

“I’ve missed you,
Princesa
. I’ve missed you so much.”

She nodded, unable to verbalize how much she missed him
as her hands moved over his back and down his hips. Her fingers tightened on the firm muscles of his hips when he began moving inside her.

Nothing mattered, only his comforting weight and the hardness between his muscled thighs sliding in and out of her throbbing flesh and increasing her fever-pitch desire for him.

Her lust for him overrode everything else, and she surrendered to the fiery passion, soaring to an awesome, shuddering climax as the screams in the back of her throat erupted and then faded away in a lingering sigh of sated delight.

Aaron’s own pleasure peaked and exploded with a frenzied thrusting of his powerful hips and a deep, rumbling moan of gratification. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he tried forcing air into his labored lungs. Not only were they man and woman, but she had become heart of his heart, and flesh of his flesh. He loved her; he loved her so much he feared losing himself if she ever left him again. Burying his face between her scented shoulder and neck, he rained kisses across the silken flesh.

Curving her arms around Aaron’s strong neck, Regina pressed her mouth to his ear. “I have something to tell you,” she whispered quietly.

Pulling back slightly, he stared down at her mysterious expression. “What?”

“Estou grávida,”
she confessed in Portuguese.

He withdrew from her warm flesh, reaching for her shoulders at the same time and pulling her to sit across his lap. He stared at her, complete surprise on his face.

“What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated in English.

Aaron gave her a narrow, glinting look, and she silently berated herself for telling him about the baby. She had made a mistake. She never should have come to Brazil.

Pulling away from him, she attempted to scramble off the bed,
but was thwarted when he curved an arm around her waist, not allowing her to escape him. He released her body, then captured her head between his large hands. There was no mistaking the smile of extreme joy lighting up his dark eyes.

“Oh,
Princesa
. You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.”

Regina collapsed against his chest in relief. “You want this baby?”

Running his fingers through her shortened curls, he wagged his head. “You beautiful, silly goose. What made you think I wouldn’t?”

She shrugged a bare, slender shoulder. “I don’t know.” Her voice was muffled in his chest. “You just seemed so stunned.”

He laughed softly. “Of course I was stunned. I’m still stunned.”

Her soft laugh joined his. “You hit the jackpot the first time we made love.”

“I hit the jackpot the day I met you,” he countered.

She curved into the comforting warmth of his body and closed her eyes. “What do you want, Aaron? Boy or a girl?”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s healthy. Speaking of healthy, I assume you’ve seen an obstetrician.”

“Yes.”

“When are you due?”

“June twelfth.”

“Perfect timing. We’ll be harvesting this year’s coffee crop in late April and early May.”

“I won’t be here for the harvesting.”

He froze. “Why not?”

“I’m only staying three months.”

Easing back, he stared at her as if he had never seen her before. “You can’t!”

“I’m here on a ninety-day visa.”

“You can always renew the damn visa. We’ll travel to Argentina, then reenter the country with another ninety-day visa.”

“No.”

“You can’t go back.”

“I have to, Aaron. I want my child born on U.S. soil.”

“It won’t matter where the baby is born. Both of us are United States citizens.”

“I can’t stay,” she argued.

“If it’s a question of citizenship or the renewal of visas, we can always get around that by getting married.”

She felt a fist of disappointment squeeze her heart when he mentioned marriage. He claimed he loved her, but had only mentioned marriage when she spoke of leaving him. He had equated marriage to a form of proprietorship. He wanted to hold on to her the way he held onto his coffee plantation—with a license or a deed.

Her gaze did not waver as she caught and held his. “I will stay six months, Aaron. Don’t ask me to promise more than that. Then I’m going back to Florida to have my baby. I will schedule my return for the first week in May.”

Aaron struggled to control his temper. “Oh, now it’s
your
baby,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Don’t fight me,” she warned softly.

“Fight? I’ll make you sorry you ever drew a breath if you try keeping my child from me, Senhora Spencer.”

Her eyes narrowed as she went to her knees. “Don’t ever threaten me—”

“Or what?” he said, cutting her off. “You’ll tell your rich and powerful father that I threatened his little girl?”

The very air around them was electrified with a tension thick enough to swallow them whole, neither willing to concede as they stared at each other.

Regina couldn’t believe how their red, hot passion had turned
to red, hot fury. Tilting her chin in a haughty gesture, she slid gracefully off the bed. Unmindful of her nakedness, she folded her hands on her hips.

“Please show me to a bathroom where I can wash before I get dressed.”

Moving off the bed, Aaron towered over her, his arms folded across his bare chest. “This will be your bedroom. The bathroom is the door on the right, and your dressing room is on the left.”

He reached for his slacks on the foot of the bed and slipped into them, his gaze never leaving her face. “We usually eat the evening meal at eight, but in deference to your condition we’ll dine earlier. I’ll tell Magda to expect us in an hour.”

He turned and walked across the room, opened the door to the dressing room, and disappeared, leaving her staring at the space where he had been. She glanced at a clock on a table with several framed black and white photographs, noting the time. It was only five-thirty. She had spent the afternoon sleeping, making love, and arguing with Aaron. It was not what she had anticipated for her first day in Bahia. She would take a bath and change for dinner, but first she would call her family and confirm her safe arrival.

Picking up the telephone on one of the bedside tables, she dialed the international code for the United States, then the area code and telephone number for her parents’ home. Arianna answered the call. She exchanged greetings with her brother, mother, and father. It was another fifteen minutes before she hung up to prepare herself to face Aaron again. Her delicate jaw tightened when she realized her relationship with him had changed, and it was the new life growing inside her that was responsible for that change.

She had promised him she would remain in Bahia for six months, and she prayed she would be able to fulfill that promise.

* * *

Regina took a leisurely bath in a bathroom from a bygone era. Ivy climbed up one wall through the wrought-iron grillwork of the windows, bringing the outdoors inside. The collection of blue glass vials, containers, and vases cradling grooming supplies and plant cuttings were a vivid contrast against the sand-colored stucco walls. The brick floor was nearly worn smooth from thousands of feet wearing down its surface over hundreds of years.

She stepped out of the tepid, scented water and reached for a thick, thirsty towel in a cobalt blue. Blotting her moist face, she walked over to a shelf and peered at a collection of elegant razors with handles inlaid with pearl, onyx, jade, and several semi-precious stones.

Bending down, she attempted to dry her legs and feet and slumped to the floor as the objects in the room began spinning. Gasping, she tried swallowing back a wave of nausea. Crawling on her hands and knees, she made it over to the commode.

At the same time, Aaron walked into the bathroom. He held her gently while she purged the contents of her stomach, then placed a cool cloth over her face and helped her brush her teeth and rinse her mouth before he carried her back to the bedroom.

He placed her on the bed where they had made love less than an hour before and held her until she rewarded him with a dimpled smile. “
Muito obrigado
, Aaron.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replied, returning her smile. “How much Portuguese have you learned?”

“Just enough to be polite.”

“You knew how to say I’m pregnant.” She nodded, closing her eyes against his intense stare. “How often do you throw up?”

She opened her eyes. “At least twice a day.”

“You’re losing weight.” It was more of a statement than a
question. “When I go to the hospital tomorrow I’m taking you with me. I want Dr. Nicolas Benedetti to look at you.”

“I’m okay now,” she said, pulling out of his loose embrace. “I’d like to get dressed.” Aaron left the bed and returned to the chair where he had sat watching her sleep. Regina stared across the room at him, unable to believe he was going to sit and watch her dress. “Aaron, please give me a little privacy.”

“No.” He draped one leg over the other. “I’m not moving. You can get dressed with me right here. There’s nothing you have I haven’t seen before. Try to think of me as your personal physician.”

“But, you’re not.”

He flashed a wide grin. “Oh, but I am,
Princesa
. Very few Bahian doctors make house calls.”

She knew he was not going to leave, so she walked over to the loveseat where she had placed the dress and underwear she had selected to wear to dinner.