The Love of a Latino (12 page)

“So you are telling me that
you were willing to marry a woman you did not love and have children with her
to gratify your parents?”

“It is called
loyalty,
Amor.
I am an only child and it is my duty to provide an heir.”

“So if you are such a loyal
son, why did you call off the wedding?”

Shifting his weight in an
attempt to make himself comfortable, he brought his face closer to her. Raising
a hand, he hesitated for just a moment. When she didn’t shy away he touched the
soft skin of her cheek. “I called off the wedding,
mi princesa,
because
I fell in love.” He didn’t blink his gray eyes boring into hers.  He heard her
indrawn breath and where his hand held hers he could feel her pulse escalate.
“I love you,
amor mio. Te amo.
I did not know this when I left your
country; however, it did not take me long to understand what I felt.”

“You love…love…
me?”
Her breath came out in almost inaudible whisper.

“Yes,
Querida.
I love
you. The night when we made love I wanted to tell you about Sarafina, but I was
so happy to see you that I didn’t want to ruin it. I planned on telling you
when you woke up but…”

“I answered your phone,” she
finished his sentence.“I was so hurt; I didn’t let you explain. Oh Raphael...”

“It is okay,
Princesa
,
you know the truth now. Now you know that you hold my heart. I belong to you
only.” His hand on her cheek trailed down to her lip, rubbing the soft skin,
Rafe wanted nothing more than to kiss her but her next words stopped him.

“Raphael, I need to tell you
something.” Taking her hand from him she rose. She stood with her back to him,
her gaze set on the fire.

“What is it, Baby? Please do
not be afraid to tell me anything. You are my heart.” Rafe was almost fearful
to hear her words. Was she going to tell him that she had a lover? Was it the
man that had answered the phone? If it was, he would have to show her that she
should be with him not that other man.

She turned and came to where
she left him standing. Stopping in front of him, she raised her head to look
him in the eye. One stray tear rolled down her cheek. Rafe brushed at it but it
was followed by another.

“Please,
mi amor,
do
not cry. You can tell me anything, I promise.”

But she didn’t answer.
Instead, she took the hand on her cheek and gently guided it down, palm open,
to rest on her belly. Rafe was confused at first as to the slight swell of her
stomach, but when he felt the faint fluttering movement against his hand he
realized what she was trying to tell him. There was no other lover, she was
pregnant. This is what she wanted to tell him. He looked down at where his hand
rested, hers resting above his, then back up at her.

“Mi amor
, is it true?”

She nodded and then once
again he felt the slight ripple as if his baby was aware of its father’s touch.

“You are pregnant?”

“Yes Raphael, you are going
to be a father.” She answered, her free hand coming to rest against his jaw.

Dahlia was pregnant. She was carrying
his child inside her. He wrapped her in his arm pulling her against him,
lifting her off the ground and whirling her around gently. When she was safely
on the ground again, he held her at arm’s length, surveying her closely. She
wasn’t showing through the dress. Looking at her again he said,
“¡Dios mío!
I
am going to be a father.
Mi mamá
…she is going to be so happy.” He
stopped and looked at Dahlia with accusing eyes. She was smiling at him
confirming his thoughts “She knows doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does and so does
your father.”

“But…how? It was no
coincidence that
Mamá
met you. She went looking for you, didn’t she?”

“Yes she did, but I do not
want to speak about that now. I want you to kiss me, Raphael. Please.”

“Ah,
mi amor,
it will
be my pleasure.” And he did.

He gathered her into his
hands but his kiss was slow. Trailing his thumb across her lips, he kissed her
eyelids, her nose, and her temple as he whispered Spanish endearments. When his
lips finally rested on her mouth, she moaned.

“Oh
mi corazón, Te amo—te
amo con toda mi alma.
I love you.” He groaned his mouth working feverishly
against hers.

“I love you too, Raphael.”
Dahlia responded to his kisses leaning fully into him.

His hands swept down her back
to tangle in her curls, nudging her head back a little. Her mouth parted and
his tongue touched hers. Desire rocketed through him causing him to pull her
tighter against him. The plumpness of her pregnant belly pressed against his
arousal, causing him to stir. He wanted to see her, all of her, to kiss his
child through her skin.

Her hands were playing in his
thick hair, but when he angled his head they travelled down to encircle his
neck. He had missed her, more than he thought possible. Having her close, after
so long, was like satisfying an addict. But like any addict, he wanted—
needed
more. Breaking the kiss she pulled away from him. He stood silently, one of his
hands resting on her shoulder the other on her waist, as she glided a finger
down his neck to toy with the button on his shirt. Holding her gaze he
encouraged.

“Por favor mi amor,
do not stop.”

Both of her hands came to his
chest and he watched her, his breathing ragged as she undid the buttons of his
shirt one by one. Halfway through her hands stilled, leaving the last few
catches untouched. Raphael groaned when she parted his shirt and leaned forward
to touch her lips to the matted hair on his chest, but she did not stop there.
Her hot mouth blazed kisses upward, her wet tongue darting out to torture the
taut skin of his neck. Closing his eyes against the need that was roaring
through him he leaned his head to allow her admission to the throbbing vein
where his neck met his jaw line.

Feathering a light kiss
against his mouth, her lips found its way down the other side of his face,
moving back downwards to his chest. This was pure hell, having her touch him
like this. He wanted to wrench her lips away from his skin and back to his mouth
but he didn’t. Beneath her bold love making, he could still sense her
innocence. She was trying to be brave and he would let her. In love making Rafe
always was the mentor but now this innocent was teaching him. She was teaching
him how much more enjoyable a touch could be when it was being done by someone
he loved.

Rafe gasped, tightening his
grip on her shoulder when he felt her hands on the base of his spine. His eyes
flew open and when he looked down at her, his lids were heavy with the weight
of passion. Her lips were moist; her breathing labored, her cheeks flushed. She
was a princess,
his princesa,
his woman, his love.

“Querida,
you are so beautiful. I look at you now and I see a
woman that is in need of loving. Your cheeks are flushed with need. Tell me mi
amor, do you want me? Do you need me?”

“Yes Raphael, I need you.
Please make love to me.”

Leaning forward he trapped
her mouth in another kiss, tasting her, savoring the feel of her hot breath
against his lips. Without breaking the kiss he scooped her up into his arms
heading in the direction of one of the spare rooms. He didn’t fully understand
how his mother had done all this but he was thankful. She had indicated that
she would be out for the entire night hinting that they would have the house to
themselves. No doubt she expected them to end up making love.

The bedroom was large and in
the middle of the room nested a large bed. The house rested on private grounds,
which meant there were no neighbors. The long curtains were pulled wide open,
the moonlight streaming into the room, casting a shaft of light across the wide
bed. Raphael lowered her to her feet placing kisses along her jaw and neck. He
undressed her slowly, pulling the dress over her shoulder, and then removing
her undergarments. Guiding her down on the bed, he stood away from her, his
eyes feasting on her magnificence.

She brought her hands up in an
effort to veil her nakedness. “No Dahlia, do not hide yourself from me. I want
to see you like this, your gorgeous body laid out before me. You are
superlative, do not ever doubt that.”

Not taking his eyes from her,
he undid the remaining buttons of his shirt and then his trousers. When he was
finished discarding his clothes, he stood before her, his naked body like that
of a Greek God. Easing himself down to the bed, he stretched out next to her,
his arousal pressing against her side and could not help chuckling when she
whimpered. Resting his head on an open palm supported by his elbow, he traced
the tip of a finger from her lips down her neck and then encircled one of her
darkened tips. His hands continued to search her body until his palm came to
rest on the mound of her belly.

“My baby is growing inside
you,
Princesa.
You have given me a gift more precious than anything and I
thank you for that.”

He rose, coming to kneel
between her parted thighs. He rested an ear against the swell of her stomach,
both of his hands on either side of his head. He stayed like that for a little
while, squeezing his eyes shut, holding back a tear that threatened to spill.
He felt her hand on his head, resting lightly in his hair. When he finally
raised his head to her, there on her face, he saw what he needed—her love for
him. Pressing a tender kiss on her belly, he lay above her resting his weight
on his arms. Taking his head in her hands she drew him to her, sorting his
lips.

He kissed her then for what seemed like ages, her
hands wreaking mayhem on his body and when he knew that he no longer was in
command of  his need , he whispered in her ear. “I love you Dahlia,
mi
princesa.”
And caught her cry in his mouth as he made her his.

****

Through the open window,
Dahlia could see the moon hanging high in the sky. She lay in Raphael’s arm,
one leg thrown listlessly across his thighs, her belly pressed against his
side, her cheek against his chest. His long arm was wrapped around her
shoulder, a lone finger teasing the skin of her upper arm as it played back and
forth. She inhaled lightly taking in the scent of his cologne. For the first time
in her life, she was truly content.

Lauralyn had been right;
Raphael was in love with her. It was so hard facing him after all those months,
Dahlia wasn’t sure what to expect. This is what she had hoped for though, that
Raphael would tell her that he did love her and was happy about their baby.

“Raphael…?”

“Hmmm…?”

“I’m not going to wake up and
find that all this is a dream will I?”

“If it is a dream, Baby, then
I do not wish to wake up.”

Placing her palm flat on his
chest she rested her chin on it. “Raphael…?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Are you really happy about
the baby?”

“Dahlia, do not ever doubt
that I am anything but happy about this child. It is a blessing, one that I
will always cherish. ” He stared at her for a very long while. She opened her
mouth to ask another question but he cut her short. “No more questions, Dahlia—at
least not from you, but I have a few. Tell me how my mother came to find you.”

She groaned and fell back
against the pillow, closing her eyes. She really hoped she would be spared
having to answer that. A smile tugged at the edge of her lips. Beside her, she
felt him move and when she opened her eyes he was hovering above her.

“Can’t you ask your
mother?”She whined.

“No
mi amor,
you are
going to tell me, and if you don’t…”His words trailed off, his hand grazing the
tip of one breast through the sheet. She gasped sucking in a breath.

“You like that,
Querida?”
She nodded her eyes fixed on him. He leaned close to her and flicked a wet
tongue across her nipple. She arched to his touch, her body straining towards
him.  He grinned. “If you tell me
mi amor
,
maybe
I will
continue.” He was teasing her and she loved it. His hand moved under the
coverlet to cup her breast. “So are you going to tell me?” His finger glided
across her nipple.

She did! She told him every
detail of all that transpired from the night she ran out of his room half-dressed
to the day his mother showed up. All through her confession Raphael’s fingers
tortured her skin and time and time again she had to stop to catch her breath
or wet her dry lips with her tongue. When she was finished her breathing was
shallow and her body ached to be possessed. Raphael did not disappoint her. He
loved her as she needed and when they finally drifted off to sleep, the sun had
begun to rise in the morning sky.

****

Lauralyn tiptoed in through
the front door. Raphael’s car was stilled parked in the driveway, which meant
he was still here. And if things went the way she had hoped, her son and her
soon to be daughter-in-law would still be asleep. The clock in the hallway said
seven thirty a.m. but the house was quiet.