The Glory Game (56 page)

“No. I'll keep them where I know they're safe.” Rob angrily waved a hand in Anna's direction. “Just make sure she stays out of my things. I don't want her snooping around.”

“Sí
.

But Rob never gave him a chance to finish as he swung around and stormed into his room, slamming the door. He went straight to the open dresser drawer and pulled out the pair of socks at the bottom of the pile, the pair he'd caught Anna transferring to the top. His stash of cocaine was still inside. He closed his eyes, relief sagging through him.

There was a knock on his door, and his hand tightened instinctively on the sock. When he heard the door open, he turned, quickly thrusting his hand behind his back to hide it from his mother. “I think you're supposed to wait until you're invited in,” he said curtly.

“If there is going to be any lecture on manners, you are the one who needs it. You were worse than rude out there, Rob. Even when your suspicions were proved wrong, you didn't have the grace to apologize. What has gotten into you, Rob?” she demanded.

“All right, so maybe I made a mistake. You'd be upset too if it happened to you,” he retorted. “If it will make you feel any better, I'll apologize the next time I see her. Will that satisfy you?”

“It's better than nothing.” Luz moved her head in a confused shake, sensing the chip on his shoulder. He'd always been a
little withdrawn, but never this distant. “Rob, what's wrong? It isn't like you to be so churlish.”

“I found somebody going through my drawers and I'm upset. That's what's wrong. Why don't you go back to your Latin lover's arms and leave me alone? Nobody asked you to interfere.”

She stiffened at his sarcastic rejoinder. “Are you still upset about Raul?” She had hoped he'd gotten over his initial resentment of their relationship, but it seemed he still intended to punish her for deserting him. “Rob, you are of my flesh and blood. No man on earth can change that.”

But he refused to listen to her. “Forget it.
Look
, I've said I was sorry. What more do you want? A guy can be wrong once in a while, can't he?”

“Yes. And you were wrong about Anna—just as you're wrong about Raul.” Nothing she said seemed to reach him. This wasn't the Rob she knew, and she wondered at the change in him, telling herself he'd been under considerable stress lately, weighted by his driven determination to excel at polo. Maybe that was why he was reacting so strongly against Raul. A little more time and a little more patience on her part seemed to be in order. She opened the door, then paused, finally saying, “I'll see you downstairs.”

The minute the door shut behind her and he heard her footsteps moving down the hall, he hid the socks in his drawer, then tore off a strip of note paper from his writing tablet on top of the chest and wedged it between the edge of the drawer and its frame so he'd know if anyone snooped in his drawers again.

Shivering, Luz hugged the beach robe more tightly around her as she hurried into the house. The mid-October sun had been warm, but the water in the swimming pool had been decidedly cool. She headed directly to the stairs, rubbing the towel over her wet hair. As she passed the lonely side table in the foyer, she noticed the stack of mail on top of it and paused. Obviously someone had just brought it in, since Hector hadn't sorted it yet. She hesitated, then riffled through it to see if anything had come for her.

There was a skinny letter from Trisha, which she set aside, and one from Emma, no doubt containing the monthly household
report and a tactfully worded inquiry as to the date of Luz's expected return. Luz grimaced slightly when she saw the thick envelope bearing her mother's handwriting. She didn't have to read it to know what was inside. If it ran true to the previous ones, there would be three pages of not so subtle demands to know when Luz was coming back and why a trip of three or possibly four weeks had turned into more than two months. After that, there would be three pages of family news.

The bottom third of the stack of letters were all addressed to Raul. She started to lay them aside, then her eye was caught by the familiar handwriting on one of the envelopes. It was from Trisha. She chewed at the inside of her lower lip, absently tasting the chlorine, and tapped the envelope against her hand.

Was this the first time Trisha had written him, or had there been others? Not once in all the letters Luz had received from her daughter had she mentioned Raul beyond asking that she say hello for her. Lately, that hadn't even been tacked on to the end. She had hoped the newness of college surroundings had put Raul out of Trisha's mind. Obviously, it hadn't.

Luz debated a minute longer, then added Trisha's letter to Raul to her stack. When she heard Hector approaching from the living room, she turned, smiling. “I've already gotten my mail. When Raul comes in, will you tell him I want to see him? It's important.”

“
Si
, I will tell him.”

“I'll be in my room.” With the letters clutched in her hand, she moved to the steps and hurried up the stairs to her room.

Once inside, she tore open the letter from Trisha addressed to her and scanned the contents. It was filled with references to the courses she was taking, the sorority she had pledged, and classmates and professors. She asked how Rob was doing, obviously accepting that Luz was staying in Argentina because of her brother. But not one word about Raul. Luz glanced at his envelope, then laid them all aside and went into the bathroom to take a hot shower and get dressed for dinner.

An hour later, she heard muffled voices and the heavy tread of booted feet along the upper hallway. The afternoon session was over, which meant time for a quick shower and change before they all congregated in the game room. Raul should be coming any moment. She paced absently, waiting, her gaze
continually straying to the unopened envelope addressed to him, lying on her nightstand.

Time dragged and her tension mounted, but still he didn't come. A half-dozen times, Luz went to the door and paused with her hand on the knob, debating whether she should seek him out. Maybe Hector hadn't given him her message. Instinctively she knew better, and she never turned the knob. Her irritation grew with each passing minute.

When he finally knocked at the door, she jerked it open and barely gave him time to step inside the room before she verbally assailed him. “Where have you been? Practice broke up more than an hour and a half ago. I have been waiting all this time to talk to you. I told Hector I wanted to see you as soon as you came in. Didn't you get my message?”

“Yes, he told me you wanted to see me. I was busy. I came as soon as I could.” The assertion was confirmed by the smudged and sweaty riding clothes he still wore, but Luz was too annoyed to notice.

“As soon as you could.” She hurled his words back at him. “Didn't Hector tell you I said it was important? Do you realize how long I've been waiting here for you?”

“I was busy,” Raul snapped. “Do you think because you snap your fingers, I must come running? I am not some gigolo who answers to your beck and call!”

“I never implied you were!”

“No? I come the moment I am free, and it is not good enough for you. I kept you waiting, no? What do you call this?” he demanded angrily. “What is it you expect from me? What is it you want?”

Luz drew back from his challenge, her anger receding to a protective wariness. “Nothing. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Talk.” He moved toward her, and Luz stood her ground. When he stopped in front of her, he seemed to loom around her, enveloping her in his presence while not touching her at all. His narrowed gaze bored into her, delving deep, too deep for comfort. “Is that all you want from me? Do you want me to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you? Do you want me to make love to you? You have never said any of this. Do you want me, Luz?”

A protest clamored inside at the open admission he was
demanding from her. “It isn't fair to ask that. If I answer yes, I sound like some weak female who can't exist without a man,” she argued. “I am allowed some pride.”

“I say these things to you,” Raul reminded her tautly. “Does that make me sound like a female? I am a man. Where is my pride? Always I come to you. You never come to me. Where is the fairness in that? Must I always be the one? Will you never lie in my bed, only yours? You asked me once whether I wanted you. Now it is my turn. Do you want me?”

“Sometimes—sometimes I want you so much, Raul, that it frightens me.” Perhaps never more than now had she wanted him so much, nor been so frightened by the force of it. Until now, the affair had been conducted on her terms, and she'd felt safe, always making him seek her out, never exposing herself to possible rejection.

But there was no rejection as his hands pulled at her waist to draw her into his embrace. Her half-known fears seemed very foolish under the warm, demanding pressure of his kiss. She didn't have to hold back anymore, nor was she driven by a vague desperation to take and hold on to the glorious sensations of the moment in case they never came again.

“I do want you, Raul, I do,” she murmured over and over again, all the restraints finally gone. When she finally pulled away, it was to say, “Let me make love to you.”

She saw the desire glazing his blue eyes as he nodded slowly. Her fingers pulled at the bottom of his snug-fitting polo shirt where it was tucked inside his breeches. When it was free of them, she hiked it over his ribs and across the breadth of his chest. Raul flinched visibly.

“Cuidado!”
Pain edged his cautioning mutter.

“What is it?” Frowning, Luz scanned his face, not raising the shirt any higher.

“My left shoulder. I have bruised it.” Raul took over the task of removing his shirt, pulling his right arm free of the sleeve, then dragging the shirt over his head and easing the left sleeve off his injured shoulder.

Nearly all of the skin on his upper arm and back shoulder was mottled black and blue. Luz hesitantly touched the bruised area with her fingertips, guessing how very sore it must be. “You fell.” Vaguely she remembered that he'd barely used that arm at all when he'd embraced her moments ago. It had been
his right hand and arm that had pressed and urged closer contact.

“Sí
. Lamberti's horse went down in front of mine. He broke his wrist and arm in the fall. I had to take him to the small hospital in the village. That is where I have been the last three hours,” he said. “Or I probably would have come when you snapped your fingers.”

Luz backed a step away from him and turned to cover her mouth, realizing how petty and self-centered she had been. “You should have slapped me … walked out … or something.” She swung back to him. “Is he all right?”

“Sí
. He will be in a plaster cast for a few weeks, but the breaks were clean,” he assured her. “Hector should have told you the reason I was delayed, but I think he was busy. I am glad I did not hit you or walk out. I have waited a long time to hear you say that you want me as I want you.” His fingers traced the curve of her throat and lingered on the pulsing vein. Raul brought his hand down and stood facing her. “I have only one good arm, so you will have to make love to me.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Luz said and meant it literally.

Much later, she lay utterly contented, nestled against his right side, her arm curved on his chest. The sensations she felt with Raul were so different from anything she'd known with Drew. It was funny, but she could think about Drew without rancor now, remembering the happier times instead of the bad.

Maybe she owed that to Raul along with so many other things, like her renewed self-esteem and confidence. She wouldn't put a name to the feelings she had for him, but she admitted to herself that she didn't want the affair to end. Before she hadn't wanted to look beyond today. Now she wanted to make plans for tomorrow.

“How is Rob doing? Are you getting along with him?” Luz hadn't mentioned the unfortunate incident between her son and the maid. If Hector had told him, Raul hadn't said anything to her. Ever since, she had wondered if the rage Rob had exhibited had been the release of pent-up resentment toward Raul. From the stick-and-ball sessions she'd observed, she hadn't sensed any hostility between them, but she hadn't been close enough to catch the nuances of voice or expression.

Raul rolled onto his right side, levering himself up on his elbow to look down at her. “After we make love, you want to
question me about your son?” he challenged while his hand stroked the bare flesh of her hip and stomach.

Involuntarily she moved in response to his caress while she tried not to be distracted by it. “Lately he seems different, and I wondered if you had noticed it.”

“He has been on edge, moody on occasions.” His hand continued to make its lazy, stroking circles over her flesh. “Why do you ask?”

“Sometimes I have the feeling he still resents our being together, and I wondered how he acted toward you when I'm not around.”

“He respects me. He does not necessarily like me,” he replied, and Luz wondered if she was making a bigger problem out of this than it was. Perhaps she was being too sensitive. It was natural for Rob to respond negatively to her involvement with another man, to feel a little threatened.

Bending, Raul kissed a quiescent nipple and teased it erect with a curling lick of his tongue. She felt the involuntary tightening in her loins. “Are we through talking about him?”

“Actually …” Her hand glided along his arm, avoiding the bruised area at the top. “It was a way of leading up to my next question—whether you've made any playing commitments for the winter season in Florida yet.”

“I have been approached by some team sponsors, but nothing has been confirmed. Why?” But he seemed more interested in toying with her breasts.