Harvest Moon (8 page)

Nodding, he stood up, pulling her up with him. He curved an arm around her waist and led her out of the bedroom and down the staircase to the lower level.

Regina knew she had lied to Aaron. She wasn’t all right, and she needed something to stop the trembling which had begun when she awoke earlier that morning. But she was too much of a coward to request a sedative.

She paused before walking out of the house, picking up a black raffia and silk hat with a wide, turned-up brim and matching, satin, grosgrain ribbon circling the crown from a small, round table and placing it on her head. Her dress was a simple black silk sleeveless sheath, and her only accessories were pearl earrings and a matching, single strand floating from her long neck.

Nodding to Aaron, she placed her hand in the bend of his elbow and permitted him to lead her to the tent where rows of chairs were set up for the attendees.

She recognized the doctors and nurses who were responsible for Oscar’s medical care, all of
El Cielo
’s household staff, Ernesto Morales, and Pablo Vasques, the artist whose works Oscar had collected since they attended a showing in Mexico City the first year they moved to
El Cielo
.

The priest, who had heard Oscar’s last confession before he administered the last rites, moved into position behind the dove-gray casket, which rested on a device which would finally lower it into the damp, dark earth.

Regina heard the softly spoken words of the priest as he began the funeral mass, silently mouthing the prayers and the responses. A warm breeze filtered over the assembled, bringing with it a sweet, lush, redolent fragrance of fresh flowers. Leaning heavily against Aaron’s solid shoulder, she cried softly, holding the handkerchief he had given her over her mouth.

Aaron closed his eyes, willing his own tears not to fall. He had to be strong, strong for Regina. Curving an arm around her tiny waist, he held her until her sobbing subsided. He was amazed at the gamut of emotions her sobbing wrang from him as he vowed silently that he would take care of her. When he returned to Brazil he would take her with him.

The mass ended, and Regina and Aaron thanked the priest for what he had offered Oscar before and after his death. Then they extended an invitation to all to stay for a light repast before they returned to their homes and places of business.

R
egina felt a restlessness akin to an itch she could not scratch. It had been five days since the funeral, and with the advent of each new day she felt as if she had been confined to a prison without bars.

“Why, Oscar?” she whispered angrily at the brightening sky as she stood at the open French doors. Why was he testing her by making her a prisoner? What had he hoped to prove by mandating that she remain in Mexico an additional ten days? She thought about calling her father and requesting that he send the ColeDiz corporate jet to pick her up and fly her to Florida for a few days, but quickly changed her mind after she realized that if she left Mexico she would not return—not for a long time. She had to think of the people she employed at
El Cielo
, who would now have to seek other employment. She had to see to their immediate needs before her final departure.

A sharp knocking on the bedroom door shook her from her reverie. Crossing the room, she opened the door to find Aaron
standing on the other side. The sun wasn’t up, yet he was dressed for the day. Her gaze moved slowly over his stark white T-shirt, body-hugging jeans, and work boots.

Folding his arms over his chest, he regarded her delightfully disheveled beauty. Her damp hair curled over her forehead in provocative disarray. She wore a pale blue camp shirt with a pair of faded, laundered jeans that flaunted the curves of her womanly body.

“Good morning,” he drawled softly, winking at the surprised expression on her face. “I decided to take a walk this morning, and wondered if you would like to accompany me.”

She knew what he was up to. “I am not depressed.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t say you were. I’m just inviting you to come for a walk with me before we share breakfast.”

“I’m also not hungry.”

His arms came down as he glared at her. “What do you want to do, Regina? Join Oscar? You’re not eating, and—”

“How do you know I’m not eating?” she countered.

“Because Rosa says you barely touch what she puts on your tray. You’ve locked yourself away in this room for the past five days—”

“Mind your own business, Aaron Spencer!” she screamed at him. She didn’t need him spying on her. All she had was another five days. Then she would be free.

He took a step, bringing him close enough for her to feel the warmth of his moist breath on her face. “Oh, you think you aren’t my business, Mrs. Spencer? You became my business the moment you called me to tell me my father had died,” he continued without waiting for her reply. “And you are my business because you married my father.”

“A father you turned your back on,” she said accusingly, her temper rising quickly to match his.

A tense silence filled the room as Aaron breathed in shallow, quick gasps, successfully curbing his runaway temper before he
said something he would live to regret. The nostrils of his nose flared as he compressed his lips tightly.

“Do not speak of something you know nothing about,” he warned in a dangerously soft voice.

“Then why don’t you enlighten me?” There was no mistaking the challenge as she folded her hands on her narrow hips.

Aaron glanced over her head, staring at the open French doors. “I can’t tell you about it. Not now.”

“When?” The single word was soft, coaxing.

His gaze shifted, lingering on her seductive mouth. “Before I return to Brazil I will reveal why I hadn’t seen or spoken to my father in twelve years. Now, will you walk with me?”

She had to smile. “You’ll say anything to get me out of this room, won’t you?”

“Almost anything,” he admitted truthfully, “except lie to you. And there is one thing you should know about me, Regina, and that is I will
never
lie to you.”

She studied his face, noticing the softening of his lean jaw. There was a lethal calmness in his expressive eyes as he regarded her. “Or I to you, Aaron.”

The tension vibrating around Aaron vanished, replaced by a warm, peaceful feeling which made him want to reach out and hold her close to his heart. He hadn’t lied when he told her he wanted her to walk with him, even though he would have been content to just sit beside her. After burying Oscar she had retreated to her bedroom, locking herself away from the world. The few times he had knocked on her door she had refused him entry, claiming she was tired.

After the second day Rosa approached him, reporting that Señora Spencer was still not eating the food she prepared for her. He reassured the housekeeper that Señora Spencer was grieving and that she would eat when she became hungry. And she did eat. Most times she picked at the food, taking small portions, but it was enough to keep her alive.

“I’ll wait for you in the courtyard.” Turning on his heel, he walked out of her bedroom and down the hallway.

It was Regina’s turn to watch him walk away, leaving her to follow, and it was another ten minutes before she made her way to the courtyard. She had brushed her damp hair and secured it with an elastic band at the back of her head.

She saw him leaning against a stone fountain with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. The rising sun turned him into a living, breathing statue of burnished gold. The power of his upper body was clearly displayed under the jeans and T-shirt, and she tried to imagine him taking care of patients, and failed. She wasn’t sure what she expected a doctor to look like, but it certainly wasn’t the way Aaron Spencer looked.

“Where do you plan to walk to?”

His head came around slowly as he lowered his chin and smiled at her. “Not far,” he said mysteriously, reaching for her hand. “Maybe we’ll go as far as the road, then come back.”

“It’s over a mile to the road.”

He gave her a questioning look. “Is that too far for you?”

“No.”

And it wasn’t. There had been days when she walked every acre of the land surrounding
El Cielo
. Those were the days when Oscar slept for hours after the doctor administered the drugs which took away his pain.

They walked in silence for over an hour, enjoying the dawning of a new day as birds called out to one another while hopping and flying nimbly from branch to branch.

“Come this way,” she urged, leading Aaron up a hill. They climbed the rise, stood on its summit, and gazed down at the verdant valley below them.

Shaking his head, Aaron stared at the natural beauty of the panoramic landscape unfolding before his eyes. “It’s incredible.”

Regina extended her left hand, the rays of the sun glinting off the precious stones encircling her finger. “Look, Aaron. There’s a golden eagle.”

He squinted, staring at the large bird soaring with the wind currents. “Are eagles usually this far south?”

“Yes. They’re more common in the Rocky Mountains, but we see them here because they build their nests along the Sierra Madre Occidental and Del Sur mountain ranges.”

“There’s another one.”

She nodded. “That’s the male.”

“He looks smaller than the female.”

“That’s because he is. I don’t know why, but the females are slightly larger than the males,” Regina explained.

Aaron stared at the magnificent birds as they dropped several hundred feet without flapping their enormous wings. “They probably have a nest hidden away somewhere close by.”

“They do. I observed them for weeks, bringing back pieces of leaves and twigs for a nest. Then they disappeared. When I saw the female again she was bringing back food in her beak, and I assumed it was for her babies. Weather permitting, I used to come up here every day and watch for them. Then one day I saw the babies leave the nest. They weren’t quite as magnificent looking as their parents, but they were a sight to behold.”

She and Aaron watched the eagles until they disappeared in their mountaintop retreat, then turned and retraced their steps. “I have a confession to make,” she said softly as they neared
El Cielo
.

Aaron gave her a sidelong glance. “What’s that?”

“I’m hungry.”

Lowering his head, he hid a smile. They had walked for nearly ninety minutes, and there was no doubt she had burned calories she could not afford to lose. She was slimmer now than when he first met her.

Releasing her hand, he said, “Race you to the kitchen.”

Regina was one step behind him as she sprinted toward the house. They reached the front door at the same time, Aaron stepping aside to let her enter.

He bowed from the waist. “After you,
Princesa
.”

Affecting a haughty pose, she strolled into the house, glancing back over her shoulder at his smiling face. He was good for her, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. It would remain her secret.

Rosa smiled when she saw the couple walk into the kitchen. “Your breakfast is ready.”

Regina returned her smile, heading for the small bath off the kitchen. “I’d like to eat in the kitchen this morning instead of on the patio.”

“
Sí
, Señora.”

Rosa set the large table in the corner of the kitchen while Aaron waited for Regina to wash her hands before following suit. He crowded into the small space as she dried her hands, his large body pressing intimately against hers.

“Stop, Aaron,” she whispered harshly at the same time she tried concealing her anxiety with a nervous smile.

He pressed closer. “You’re taking too long.”

“Let me out first.”

Ignoring her demand, he reached around her waist, turned on the faucets, and washed his hands with her anchored between the sink and his body. She stared at the corded muscles in his wrists and forearms. The heat in her face increased until she found it difficult to draw a normal breath.

“Aaron!”

“¿Sí, Princesa?”
he whispered, his lips grazing her ear.

Closing her eyes, Regina breathed in and out through her mouth. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m washing my hands before I sit down to eat.” His voice was deep, even. Reaching for the towel she clutched to her chest
in a deathlike grip, he pulled it gently from her stiff fingers and dried his hands.

Regina turned slowly to face Aaron. The very air in the small space was energized as an invisible thread of awareness began to form between them. Her gaze was fixed on his face when she saw his gaze slip down to her chest, where the outline of her distended nipples were clearly visible through the sheer fabric covering her bra under the cotton T-shirt.

It did not matter that they shared the same last name. It did not matter that she had married his father, or that she was his stepmother, either, when Aaron leaned down and pressed a kiss along the column of her slender, scented throat.

“Let’s eat before I start something I can’t finish,” he whispered savagely.

Her fingers caught and tightened on the front of his T-shirt, holding him fast. “Start what?”

His eyes widened as he stared at her. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do, Aaron. I do want to know.”

What she wanted to tell him was that he couldn’t tease her and then end it when he felt his control slipping, that he had lit a fire within her, reminding her that she was a woman who had yet to experience what it was to be born female, that he was the first man who made her conscious of her repressed sexuality.

Shaking his head, he said, “No.”

Regina tightened her grip on the cotton fabric. “If you can’t explain yourself, then stop playing games, Aaron. Remember, I had to grow up faster than most girls, and I was not given the opportunity to perfect techniques for teasing boys.”

She released his shirt, pushed past him, stalked into the kitchen, and somehow still managed to give Rosa a warm smile.
“Mil graçias, Rosa.”

“De nada, Señora Spencer.”

Sitting down at the table, she had spooned small portions of
fluffy scrambled eggs, potatoes with peppers, and sliced
chorizo
onto her plate, and had filled her cup with steaming coffee by the time Aaron made his way to the table to join her.

Aaron’s expression was a mask of stone as he glared across the table. She was a fine one to talk. Just being who she was, just looking like she did, was a tease.
She
was the tease—an unsuspecting, innocent one.

He was the one who slept restlessly, his dreams plagued with the image of her incredible face. Even in his sleep her sensual, velvet voice whispered in his head. And whenever he closed his eyes he could detect her presence as the haunting fragrance of her perfume wafted in his sensitive nostrils.

She had accused him of playing a game, but what he was beginning to feel for Regina Spencer was not a part of any game. The simple truth was that he wanted her. Not just her body, but all of her!

He poured coffee into his cup, added a teaspoon of milk, took a sip, then lowered it slowly. Placing an elbow on the table, he rested his chin on his fist, his gaze never straying from Regina’s face.

“I don’t play games,” he said so softly she had to strain to catch the words. “What I do play is for keeps.”

She arched an eyebrow, her fork poised in midair. She was aware that Aaron still smarted from her verbal spanking, and knew he wouldn’t be content to let her get away with it.

“I’m impressed,” she countered facetiously.

“You should be.”

Regina felt a sense of foreboding sweep over her when she registered the three words. Even though Aaron’s mouth had curved with a smile, his gaze held no humor. It was flat and cold, narrowing until his eyes resembled slits.

“Are you threatening me, Aaron?”

His expression did not change. “No. I just want to remind you
that I stopped being a boy a long time ago, which means I don’t remember how to play, as you put it,
games
.”

She searched for a hidden meaning behind his words. The silence grew more tense with each passing second as they stared at each other. Her fingers curled tightly, leaving half-moon impressions on her palms.

She knew without a doubt that she was attracted to him, and now and only now did she realize Aaron was equally intrigued. She was conscious of his virile appeal and knew that many of his mannerisms reminded her of Oscar, even though he looked nothing like his father. He claimed the same quiet magnetism of Oscar, yet there was more, much more, that drew her to him. She grew more uncomfortable as his gaze was riveted on her face before moving slowly over her upper body.