His Temporary Wife (10 page)

“Rafael …”

He raised a hand. “That probably sounded defensive. I don’t mean it to be. I blame
myself for what happened, probably more than they do. My parents are great people,
Esmeralda. They picked me up—pretty much literally—off the street when I was a ten-year-old.
Full of hate and anger. I don’t remember everything, but I know Dad and Mom met me
when I was breaking the windows out of their Cadillac.”

“They must be really good-hearted, if they wanted you after you ruined their car,”
she observed, wanting to hear more, unable to imagine the successful man across from
her had ever been poor. She could believe the anger, though; she had heard anger in
his voice when he muttered that he’d kill someone.

She should remember the Rafael who claimed he’d been full of hate and dismiss the
thoughts that kept teasing her senses. About how good he looked in the perfectly fit
jeans and snug T-shirt. About how he’d stolen her breath when he came up behind her
in the mirror that day at her aunt’s.

“They’re the best people in the world,” he said, and came over to sit down again,
leaning toward her, sincerity clear in his voice. “But they believe what they believe,
and no one can make them compromise their principles. They’re business people and
they built an empire from nothing, so it’s not like they’re these rigid monsters who
can’t work with others.”

She thought she could figure out why he was telling her that, but …

“My mom has worked with children from broken homes for thirty years. When she’s at
home, she’s volunteering. And she and Dad believe absolutely that children should
have two parents—they believe in marriage.” He smiled fondly. “They’re working on
forty years and they love each other like crazy. Guess they can’t see past their own
love for each other.”

“But, today …”

“They accept that not everyone will be married. Not all marriages are happy. They
get that. But they fight it. Dad offers marriage counseling to his employees who want
to try it. He has single mothers who work for him. He and Mom are fine with that,
except for occasional subtle efforts to match lonely souls.” He smiled a little. “They
haven’t had a lot of success with that, from what I’ve heard. In fact, there has been
the occasional bad publicity or lawsuit. But they mean well and mostly, everyone understands
that about them. They were raised by poor parents who had very little, but who loved
their families beyond anything, and that’s what they want for Justin. And for me.”

The tenderness and conviction in his voice almost brought tears to her eyes. Her mother
Adriana and father Eduardo had celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary last year.
They were still together, but the happiness and joy seemed to be missing—always had,
really. They professed to love their children and each other, but the atmosphere had
been so constrained, so lacking in excitement or enthusiasm. She straightened a little,
though, reminding herself not to judge on what he said. He was, after all, trying
to paint his own picture. She had no idea if he was being truthful.

“Which is why …”

“I decided I need to hire a wife. Temporarily.” He said it quickly, almost as if that
would make it more acceptable. “My parents would be reassured that I’m ready to settle
down and not go running all over the world with Marc.”

“Marc?”

“My best friend. He works for my dad, too. It’s mostly for them, Esmeralda, but not
only. Now that Cody’s will has been probated and news leaked out that Justin inherited
everything, we’re afraid that fathers will suddenly come out of every swamp or hole
to be found.”

“Fathers?” Esme asked in disbelief. She’d dealt with cases at school of mothers whose
children all had different fathers. She’d even counseled two students who were half-brothers
but didn’t know it. Difficult situations. But if Cody Benton was the daughter of such
wonderful parents, and such a big star to boot … no. She wouldn’t judge Cody Benton.
Lord knew her parents and high school friends had assumed the worst of her.

“She didn’t know. There were men in her life who were … in and out.” He shrugged and
looked away again. “It’s hard to admit that we don’t know who Justin’s dad is,” he
said eventually. “And that of the men who might be the father, not one of them’s worth
squat.”

“You love Justin,” she noted quietly.

“I do. I adore him. He’s so little, and happy—he looks so much like Cody. But he’s
lost his mother, and we—my parents and I—can’t lose him. We just can’t.”

“How would marriage have anything to do with that, though?” She stood up to stretch,
fingering the necklace thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t think anyone would even consider
marital status anymore. I mean, think of all the living arrangements, and break-ups,
and blends and … why?”

“Courts still have to act in the best interest of the child, and there are still some
very conservative courts. My parents are in good health, but they’re not young. My
job involved a lot of traveling, until Cody broke into music. Even then, but it was
different; I was with her. We usually were on buses and in the States. Slightly more
kid-friendly than my previous life, when Marc and I would go flying off at a moment’s
notice. We’d be in the Middle East one day and South America the next.” He smiled,
remembering. “We had fun, even if there were a few scrapes along the way. Right before
Cody got serious about music, Marc and I noticed Dad was sending us to much safer
places on sort of made-up work. Like studying the fracking process in North Dakota,
when we both knew he’d already committed to an operation in Texas.” The smile faded.
“When Cody started calling Truth home, Mom and Dad asked me to stay. Now that she’s
gone, family—a wife—would give me more reason to settle down.”

“So you’d lie to a court?”

“No. Not really. In the first place, I’m talking about a legal marriage. And I won’t
be leaving after the divorce. I’ll be here in Truth with Justin when and if my Mom
and Dad decide to give up custody. He was born here.” He stood again, too, eyes intense
as he continued. “I didn’t have a home for the first ten years of my life. Justin
will never go through what I did. He’ll always know where he was born, where home
is, and who his family is.”

She didn’t have an answer for that; she couldn’t blame someone who’d apparently had
a tough childhood for wanting to protect his nephew. But marriage for parents and
a child that really wasn’t yours? Not to mention the other obvious problem with this
crazy plan of his. Not that she was considering it. But still …

“You seem to be overlooking one major problem. It would be a problem for me, anyway,
and I’m sure many others.”

“Problem?”

“Call it what you want, temporary wife, a job … but how is money for sex not asking
a woman to be a whore?” She chose the vulgarity deliberately, wanting to make him
see the insult his misguided offer could inflict.

He looked a little taken aback at her question, but only briefly, then shrugged it
off.

“Esmeralda Salinas, get your mind out of the gutter. I have no intention of having
sex with you or anyone else while I’m married.”

Esmeralda’s mouth fell open. He’d heard the expression “jaw dropping,” but he wasn’t
sure he’d ever seen such surprise on such a lovely face. Or any face.

When he realized how his answer sounded, he sort of understood. He’d either implied
she wouldn’t interest him sexually for possibly up to two months in an intimate environment,
or that he personally could abstain from sex for some infinite period. Neither of
those were what he meant. Looking at her close her mouth slowly and then moisten her
lips with her tongue was torture, even standing several feet away from her. He didn’t
want to think of the temptations they’d encounter sharing a room, even one as large
as his upstairs suite.

But he might only put his foot in his mouth again if he tried to correct any of her
false assumptions, and clearly, she wasn’t going to accept the job anyway. In a way
he regretted that. Besides being beautiful, she was a counselor and had nerve. Her
training in helping young children would have let her interact safely with Justin—helping
him without becoming too attached to him. Or letting him become too attached to her.
And her nerve—he took a step away from her, turning, pretending to be engrossed in
watching a deer who had wandered out of the trees encircling the house and started
to munch on the flowers in one of the gardens.

Luc appeared out of nowhere, walking over to the deer with a wagging tail. The two
touched noses and then the doe went back to her food, and Luc sprawled where he was,
watching her feed.

Wasn’t there a song about everyone having someone? He just couldn’t remember with
the multitude of country songs he’d been surrounded with for the past three years
who sang it or the exact words. And here he was, seeking a temporary wife—a make-believe
wife—when many men his age were settling down happily. Marc was right. He was being
stupid.

Behind him, he heard Esmeralda shuffle slightly, and reluctantly turned back.

“Look, Rafael.” She seemed softer now, less condemning of him. “Some of what you say
is sweet. I don’t think it makes sense, but you know the situation and I don’t.” She
hesitated, then held out a hand. “Good luck.”

He realized as he took her hand he didn’t want someone else as his wife—not even his
temporary wife. “So you won’t consider letting me give you more details?”

She shook her head. “Find someone else if you think you have to go through with this.”

He released her hand. “Esmeralda, can I ask a favor? Would you mind keeping this quiet?
I mean, your aunt knows, but only she, Lillie Mae, and one other person knows. It’s
not the kind of thing I want everyone in Truth gossiping about, or I’d never be able
to make it work. My parents should be here in about three weeks.”

“I won’t say a word,” she promised, and he believed her. She took a step toward the
door, then stopped and shot him a glance over her shoulder. “Too bad you’ll be a married
man soon,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

The smile she shot him sizzled through him with the sting of a bare electrical wire.
“We could have had a good summer. But I don’t date married men.”

He watched her go, the stain on her skirt less noticeable but still hypnotizing, and
her words playing over in his head like the chorus of one of Cody’s songs.

• • •

By the time she pulled into her aunt’s drive fifteen minutes later, Esmeralda’s head
was pounding and she wished she could just sit in a dark corner and forget everything
for a few minutes. Just a few minutes. What kind of man was Rafael Benton? His idea
was insane. Her attraction to him was insane. She needed to remember that she’d almost
wrecked her own life pursuing men she couldn’t or shouldn’t want. Rafael fell in that
category, without question. She could still see the passion in his eyes, the love,
when he spoke of his parents and nephew.

She hadn’t had much luck with family. Her parents had fed and clothed her, and hadn’t
been abusive, really, not beyond letting Beto insult and harass her without any consequences.
They had been harsh and cold occasionally, but she knew others who had fared so much
worse. If she hadn’t fallen in love with a high school boy—so madly in love that she
willingly committed to him heart, soul, and body—her parents wouldn’t have been so
disappointed in her.

She tried to shrug the past off, knowing her head would only hurt worse and nothing
would change. Toby would still be gone; he’d gone into the military right after graduation,
to support her. To prove to her parents he wasn’t a no-good kid interested only in
a girl who would defy anyone to have sex with him. Even when he went to Afghanistan—even
when he died there—her parents never forgave her for having a sexual relationship
outside marriage. They never understood she was just a kid in love—in love with only
one man. The sex had been bright and new, but she had loved Toby. She didn’t plan
on finding someone to replace him. Yet they started watching her day and night, taking
her to and from school, making her life hell. Using the same words for her some of
the high school crowd did. Until she had found the strength to leave home for Toby.

No one was around, and she was glad. Angel must have gone in to work already. Not
seeing Andy around was always a good thing; they didn’t like each other. She had no
idea whether or not Tía was down the hall in her room, but didn’t want to make any
noise just in case. She fished a bottle of diet tea out of the refrigerator and headed
upstairs to shower and change. With the sun out so late, she might still have time
to ride for a while, if she could just shake the headache.

An hour and a hot shower later, she felt ready to face anything again. She put on
her favorite riding jeans, boots, and the lightest long-sleeved blouse she could find.
The heat was prohibitive, but if she ventured onto paths through cedar, she’d need
to keep from being swatted and scratched by untrimmed boughs.

She resisted the urge to hurry down on the stairs, afraid that if Tía hadn’t left
for her club yet, noise would bother her. As she reached the next to last step, she
suddenly heard her aunt’s voice off to her right, coming from behind the door.

“You’ll regret that! Keep your stupid money and threats! No one needs you!”

Silence followed, and she tried to be even quieter as she hit the floor and headed
as quickly as she could do the door, afraid that her aunt would be more upset if she
thought she’d been overheard.

Her hand was on the doorknob when Tina’s voice behind her froze her in place. “Esmeralda!
You’re leaving again? Come visit a minute.”

I am never going to see Domatrix again. Let alone get to ride her.

Esme pasted on a smile and turned around. “Tía!” She glanced at her watch. “You’re
going in a little late.” Her aunt turned and walked to the kitchen and she followed,
sitting down without comment in her usual place.