Faith in You (11 page)

Paul grinned from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Darlin’, I live for that.”

Carmen pinched his butt, chiding him. “Come on,
mi amor.
Give it a try.”

He did as she said and she started to count. “Feel the beat. One. Two. Three. Four,” she said and kept on repeating the beat. She moved her hands to his hips, placing gentle pressure there to move his hips from side to side in time with the music. “It’s a dance beat. Simple. One. Two. Three. Four.” Carmen continued and when he was moving his hips in synch with the music, she moved her hands up to his shoulders and shifted away.

“Okay, now open your eyes and watch my feet. Nice and simple to start.” She showed him just a simple back and forth, right foot, left foot combination.

Paul glanced down intently at her feet and tried to move his in the simple one, two, three, four, shuffle and lost the beat in his hips, stepping on her foot in the process. “Sorry,” he replied and jumped away from her. He sighed in defeat. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” With the confidence she usually exhibited, she motioned for him to try again, but the video came to an end and another group came on.

Paul smiled and took a deep breath of relief as he thought he was spared and raised his shoulders in a shrug. “Sorry,” he replied, although he was anything but relieved about his reprieve.

Carmen waggled her finger in his face. “No way. You are not getting away that easy.” Picking up the remote, she shut off the television, turned, and reached onto the coffee table for her IPod. She nearly raced to the entertainment center and connected it to his stereo system. “Give me a second.”

Paul would have given her all day, recognizing she was on a mission. He knew by now that meant she wasn’t going to give up. He just hoped she had some toes left by the time her mission was complete.

She turned on the stereo and a second later, the music from her IPod pulsed through the speakers. She hurried back to his side and held up her hands in a classic dance pose, and he grabbed the one hand, slipped his free hand on her waist. Her skin was bare, damp. He rubbed his thumb up and down in a lazy motion and she gave his hand a quick jerk.

“Stop,” she commanded and placed her free hand on his bare shoulder. “Ready?”

He was ready, but not for dancing. Mission that it was, however, he intended to do his best. Nodding, Paul glanced down at her feet as she began the count and shuffle again. For a short time, they moved together stiffly to the music, and then as he expected, he stepped on her toe, eliciting a Cuban curse.

“Sorry. Ready to quit?” he offered, praying to be relieved from this torture.

She shook her head vehemently. “No way. Now look up at me.” Carmen grabbed his hands and moved them so they bracketed her hips. “Concentrate on the beat and the movements. Have faith that we can do this.”

Paul believed that
she
believed they could, but he had no doubt about his lack of dancing skills. Still, he held her hips, and she surprised him by mirroring the position of his hands. Her thumbs rested against his midsection, her other fingers splayed across his buttocks.

“On four,” she instructed and they began once more.

This time they were able to keep the beat longer and had only one little fumble. Carmen expertly eased them back into the beat. “That’s it,” she urged, worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated on their dancing.

He smiled at her intensity and teased, “Relax.”

Carmen’s head shot up then and she stepped on his foot. To his amazement, he was the one who now guided her back into the rhythm. “Very good,” she said with a smile and moved her hands to his shoulders.

Beneath his fingers on her waist, she relaxed, her hips growing more fluid, easily shifting with the music.

“Now, a little back and forth.” She guided him into the step, the way she often led the way during their lovemaking. He grinned, thinking how very similar this was, with their bodies together, moving in unison.

Carmen sensed a change in him and looked up to find him grinning. “What’s up?”

He dragged her close, their hips now flush as they executed the simple back and forth, a little side to side in time to the driving beat. “I think I may have finally gotten the hang of this,” he replied and surprised her by growing bolder, leading her around a little, all the time in sync to the music.

She smiled at him and he moved against her sensuously, totally in time to the music, and totally too much. His hands moved to her waist, shifted to cradle the small of her back and she gave herself up to his hands and to his
salsa
.

#

She slept in his arms, cradled against him peacefully. Their lovemaking had been glorious as always. She had given herself, taken him into her, and made him whole again. Driven away any doubts he had about whether she loved him or his money.

Paul knew she was all that he needed, but was he everything she needed? he wondered instead, unsure of how such a vibrant lovely woman could want someone like him.

No one had ever wanted him.

What did he have to offer her besides great sex and his money.
And when the sex was gone? When this fascination they had with each other languished. Then what?
he wondered.

They had been together exclusively for months. Nearly seven months since she had opened the door on Christmas Eve and let him into her life. And in all that time, they had been happy. Seven months. But could seven months become seven years or even seventy years? Was it reasonable to think it could last that long?

He tightened his hold on her and she murmured a sleepy protest. Paul relented and loosened his grasp, knowing suddenly that one day, he would have to let her go as well. It was too much to believe that it could last forever.

He knew then that even if she took his heart with her when she left, he would have to have something to keep when that happened. Even if it was only money.

Chapter 16

Paul hadn’t meant to make love to her in the pool, but she had looked so good in her new trim shape. The five pounds she had set out to lose had turned into ten and the workouts had toned her muscles, giving her a curvier and yet leaner shape that made him crazy with need. She had decided to regrow her hair a little and her face was now framed by a cap of brown-black curls that made her look all too gamin.

The bikini she had slipped on had aroused him from the moment she came out and jumped into the pool. When she teasingly came over to dunk him, trying to get him out of the black mood he had been wallowing in due to his anxiety about asking her for the prenuptial agreement, the press of her warm body in the chill water had triggered an eruption of desire inside of him.

He had taken her, almost desperately, by the edge of the pool. She had held him, wrapped her body around him as if by doing so she could ease some of his pain, but instead she had only made his guilt worse.

She had never held anything back from him, and here they were only weeks away from the wedding and he was holding everything back from her.

“Paul, what’s wrong?” she asked as she held him afterwards, his body still encased in her warmth, her arms cradling him to her lovingly.

“Nothing, Carmen. Nothing,” he lied, pulled away from her, and stepped out of the pool.

Carmen watched him go and wished she could ease whatever it was that had been bothering him so. She worried that it might have something to do with them and the wedding. That maybe he had changed his mind and didn’t want to go through with it anymore.

She swam to the edge of the pool, walked up the steps, and over to the chaise lounge where Paul lay, his head pillowed on his arms. She sat on the edge of his chaise, yanked the towel off her chair and began to dry herself. “Paul,” she prompted, laying her hand on his back.

“Mmm?” he asked without even looking up.

“If there’s something wrong, I’d like to talk about it. If you don’t want to get married anymore --”

He sat up abruptly then. “Why would you think that?”

Carmen shrugged. “You seem distant lately. Angry all the time. I thought maybe it had to do with us. With the wedding.”

It would have been the perfect time to tell her. To let her know that he was struggling with a decision that would affect their marriage, but the coward in him was still too afraid to say anything. “No, Carmen. I’m just … preoccupied with work and all the wedding plans. I know I haven’t been myself and I’m sorry.”

She delayed for a second, then nodded, accepting his response. “I’m here for you if you need someone to unload on. Whatever’s bothering you, I’ll listen.”

“I understand. Really, there’s nothing.” At that moment he wanted the ground to swallow him up. Here she was, so compassionate and understanding, and he was lying to her about one of the most important things in what would be their life together.

Carmen rose then and toweled down her legs. “If you don’t mind, I wanted to borrow your computer for a little while. Victor mentioned a couple of websites I should visit to get information on some classes he thought I might want to take. Is that all right?”

Paul nodded. “Of course. You know where the machine is?”

“In your study, right?”

He nodded again and she rose, slipped on a terry cloth wrap, and walked away. He lay back down, closed his eyes, and tried to again make a decision about the piece of paper that had been haunting him for the past month. The agreement that sat on his desk, night after night after night.

“Shit,” he cursed and jumped up.

He had left the prenuptial agreement on his desk, right out in the open. Right next to his computer. There was no way she could not see it, unless of course, she had detoured before going to his office. He raced into the house and over to his study, but it was too late.

She sat at his desk, the agreement in her hands. Her shoulders were hunched, as if she was in pain. He went over and laid his hand on her back, but she shrugged it off.

“Carmen, I can explain.”

She rose and held the paper up in her hand. “Can you? You think it’s that easy to explain this to me?” she said and tossed the agreement at him.

It hit him in the chest and dropped to the ground. He bent and picked it up. “It’s not what you think.”

She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned her weight back against the edge of his desk. “I think it’s a prenuptial agreement. Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not, but let me explain.”

“When were you going to show it to me? On the day of the wedding? Or maybe when I reached the altar, right before the ceremony is supposed to begin? When, Paul?” The ice dripped off her words, chilling him to the bone. He had expected some hesitation on her part, but never this anger.

“I wasn’t sure when,” he admitted, paced a few steps away, and dragged a hand through his wet hair. “It’s been bothering me for a while.”

Carmen nodded as if suddenly realizing. “For a while? As in all month? This is what’s been bothering you all this time?”

“Yes. I couldn’t decide. I still can’t decide if I want you to sign it, although it makes sense.”

Carmen heard his words, but couldn’t believe that he meant them. The man she had fallen in love with wouldn’t have any hesitation about her love for him. But this man ….

“Do you have any doubt about what I feel for you?”

He answered immediately. “No.”

She walked toward him and took the papers from his hand. “Then why this? What do you think
this
accomplishes?”

Paul shrugged and looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “Even when two people love one another, sometimes things don’t work out.” He took a deep breath and met her gaze. “There are certain things I need to protect.”

Carmen was starting to feel the anger again and something else. A bone deep pain that he had so little faith in their love. She looked around his study, motioning to everything around them. “What do you need to protect, Paul? All this?”

A flush spread across his cheeks and he hesitated for a second before replying, “This and more that I’ve worked hard for. Things my family worked for.”

He couldn’t have hurt her more if he had struck her. She laughed harshly. “You think all this makes any difference to me?” she said bitterly.

“You certainly seem to enjoy all of it.”

Carmen looked at the paper again, then back up at him. “I guess you never really understood me. I guess you never really understood what was important to me.” She turned, walked back to his desk, and dropped the papers there. She paused, lifted her hand, and removed the engagement ring from her finger and laid it on top of the prenuptial agreement.

She turned and softly said, “You can stop worrying now, Paul. All this,” she motioned to the room again, “is safe.”

Paul moved toward her, but she was out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom before he could catch up to her. She closed the door on him, locked it, and wasted no time getting into her clothes, slipping on her shirt and jeans over the wet bikini.

He pounded on the door the entire time, pleading with her to open up, but she knew there was no sense talking to him now. She was too upset and angry and he didn’t understand, had apparently never understood what it had all been about.

After a few minutes he must have sensed there was no reason to keep on waiting for her to open the door. His footfalls echoed down the hall and steps. She waited another minute or so, grabbed her bag and purse, and walked out.

The tears came a block later as she headed for the bus stop on Lejeune. She swallowed the tears down, forcing herself to remain calm as she boarded the bus, and left him behind.

#

Carmen eyed her sister as if she had grown two heads. “You want me to do what?”

“Sign the agreement, Carmen,” Connie urged.

Carmen shoved back from the table and paced angrily in front of her sister. “You’re siding with
him
,” she lashed out.

“No, little sis’. I’m siding with you. You love him. Why let a little piece of paper keep you apart?”

“A little piece of paper,” Carmen nearly shouted and advanced on her sister. She braced her hands on the table to keep them from vibrating with the anger in her heart. “If Victor had asked this of you, would you have done it?”

“Victor didn’t --”

“But if he had, Con. Would you have signed it?” Carmen urged, forcing her sister to put herself in her shoes.

Connie glanced down, clearly giving it some thought. “It would have broken my heart, Carmen,” she finally admitted and rose, came over and embraced her sister.

“He broke my heart, Con. How can I give in now and sign?” she asked and held her sister tight.

Connie brushed back a lock of the curls that had grown out. “Does it change how you feel for him, though? Does it make it any easier to be apart?”

“No, of course not,” she said, let go of her sister, and started pacing again as she thought. “But if I sign, what does it say to him, Con? Think about it? Does it mean
I
think we can’t last?”

Connie shrugged. “Maybe it just means that you’re willing to reassure him.”

“Reassure him,” she said with a sigh. “Either way I lose.
We
lose, Paul and I.”

Connie considered her, not quite understanding. “Explain to me, Carmen.”

Carmen sat down then and was silent for a second before she faced her sister. “He thinks I love him just for his money. If I sign, he feels safe and knows I’m not after his money, right? But I lose my self-respect.” She hesitated for a second, then went on, her voice growing husky with emotion. “And if I don’t sign, he thinks I’m a gold-digger. That the only thing about him I want is his money.”

“He doesn’t think that about you,” Connie tried to reassure.

“No, but he thinks it about himself. He thinks he’s not worthy of being loved just for himself. What will happen in time to what we feel for each other if he has such doubts? What do we build our life on?”

Connie had no real answer for her sister. “You try and show him, Carmen.”

“I thought I had. I thought I had,” Carmen replied softly and tears came to her eyes as she remembered all that they had shared. She shook her head and tried to drive away those thoughts, but they remained firmly planted. “There were times we just hung out together, like the first time I studied and he worked. Times when we watched a movie and then talked to all hours of the night afterward. They were so nice and I thought we had started to understand each other. To trust each other in all those months of being together.”

Connie nodded and murmured, “I’m sure you did. But let’s face it, you’re always learning new things about the people you love. It’s part of life.”

“Look at what I’ve just learned. My fiancé doesn’t trust me,” Carmen replied and started to cry. She covered her face with her hands and her sister’s arms come around her, drew her tight.

“I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. But in his own mixed-up way, I’m sure he’s hurting as well.” She urged her away and dipped down on one knee to face her. “You’ve never given up on anything, don’t give up now. Talk to him.”

“I did, Connie. I did talk to him,” she repeated.

“In the heat of anger and of hurt,” Connie guessed and Carmen nodded. Connie continued. “Give yourself a little time and when you are calmer, talk to him.” She brushed her hand across Carmen’s cheek, wiping away the trails of her tears.

Carmen reached up, grabbed her sister’s hand, and nodded. She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to imagine how long it would take before the pain went away. She wondered if by then the sense of failure at having fallen in love with a man who had so little faith would go away so she could face him more calmly.

But she would try what Connie said. She would give it a little time and try again. Her sister had been right on the money about that. She had never given up on anything in her life and she wasn’t about to start now.