California Royale (12 page)

Afterwards they collapsed, smiling and quiet, on his bed. They rubbed each other with thick bath towels, then snuggled chest to chest. Duke draped one long leg over her, and she nestled a leg between his muscular thighs.

“I feel as if I’ve loved you forever,” she murmured, her mouth brushing his.

“You have. You just didn’t know it until two weeks ago.”

Shea stroked his angular cheek. “You have poetry in your soul, Alejandro.”

“No, sweet, you’ve got the poetry. I’m going to absorb all your grace and class the way the desert soaks up rain, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get a little civilized.”

“Hope not.” Shea smiled, but a knot worked in the back of her throat. “I already miss you,” she told him in a small distressed tone.

They had, until this moment, avoided discussing the fact that he would be leaving for his ranch in two days. Business demanded that he return; he had a multimillion-dollar racing stable to run. “Come with me,” he said firmly.

“For the weekend?”

“Forever.”

Shea raised herself on one elbow and studied him with wide eyes.
Forever
. She liked the sound of that word, but not the implications for the estate. “I have to manage Estate Mendocino. The owner is very difficult, but I adore him and don’t want to bungle his investment.”

“I hereby promote you to executive manager. Now you promote someone to be manager, and let that person handle day-to-day details.”

She paled. “Alejandro … no … don’t do this.…”

He interrupted her flustered words with a weary nod. “It was just wishful thinking. I know how dear this place is to you. I wouldn’t force you to turn it over to another manager. You’d never forgive me, and I couldn’t stand that.”

Shea joined her mouth to his as completely as their bodies had been joined earlier and poured all her loving appreciation into the kiss.

“Southern California isn’t so far from northern California,” she whispered when their lips parted. “We’ll see a lot of each other. You can count on it.” Tears filled her eyes, and she felt a tremor in the smile she gave him. “But it is going to be awfully dull here after you leave.”

He raised his finger and smoothed away the dampness on her lower lashes. “You haven’t asked me any more about my plans for the estate. Why?”

She gave him a sad, wistful look. “I didn’t want to spoil what we’ve had for the past two days.” She hesitated,
looking uncomfortable. “And … maybe I feel that I don’t have a right to question you, since I made the first move the other day …”

“In the forest, you mean?” She nodded. “
Querida
, it was inevitable that you and I become lovers. It doesn’t matter which of us made the first move.”

“Our life together is fated, hmmm?” She caressed his black hair and smiled tenderly at him.

He searched her eyes for a moment, his expression somber. “I’m a betting man, Shea. And I’ve made a lot of money in a business that depends on intuition and hunches. Could be that I’m a little bit psychic. All I know is that you and I clicked the minute we met. That’s never happened to me before.”

“Or to me,” she assured him.

“Palomino,” he murmured, “I’m not going to ruin the estate. Do you want to know what I’m planning? All right—”

“No.” She put her hand over his mouth for a second and shook her head. Fear rushed through her, fear that his words were going to ruin this blissful interlude. “Not tonight,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about it until tomorrow, so let’s wait.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, and he saw the desperation in her eyes. “All right,
querida
. Roll over on your stomach.”

She did as he asked, then Duke adjusted the pillow under her head and spent a minute caressing her damp, golden hair. He propped on one elbow and began to stroke her back soothingly. He let his callused fingers glide over her from neck to rump and back again, his movements slow and steady.

“There, now,” he murmured in a cajoling tone. “I have to make you relax, Palomino, so that you’ll talk to me. Tell me why this estate is such a sanctuary for you.”

He felt her back muscles tense and he bore down on them gently, then rubbed each vertebra of her spine with his thumb. She shivered and let go, sinking deeper into the mattress.

“I like to pretend that the whole world is as peaceful and happy as this estate,” she said finally, her voice muffled. “I
like
being sheltered here. I know that’s not admirable. I know I’m avoiding the harsher realities of life. But … but dammit, I grew up with those realities. I was poor. I was lonely. I was …” No she thought suddenly. Now was not the time to tell him just how ugly her childhood had been. Someday, but not now. “I was unhappy,” she finished. “Sweetheart, don’t blame me for caring so much about the estate. It’s my home.”

He cupped her shoulder and shook her lightly. “I don’t blame you,” he said gently, and returned to rubbing her back. “But what do you want from your life,
querida
? Nothing but to spend your spare time exercising your pretty body to even more perfection?” He sighed. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you gained weight.”

She laughed softly. “You’re kidding, but I love you for it.”

“No, really. I can picture you ten years from now, with laugh lines on your face, your body voluptuous … I believe, Palomino, that you’ll be even more beautiful as you get older.”

Words from her childhood echoed in Shea’s mind for one tormenting second:
Hell, you’ll grow out of it. You’re not ugly, even if you are sort of fat. God knows where you got the weight. From your damned father, not from me, that’s for sure
.

Shea shut her eyes, and the vivid recollection faded. “Alejandro Araiza,” she whispered brokenly, “you’re attitude is duly appreciated, but the only time I’ll weigh more than I do now is when I’m pregnant.”

“That can be arranged.”

They were both silent for a moment, absorbing the tingling implications of his remark. “Do you like children?” she asked softly.

“Reckon so. Never been around many. How about you?”

“Reckon so,” she mimicked. “Never been around many.”

“Maybe we could learn about babies together someday.”

Shea turned over and looked up at him with glowing eyes. “Your hints aren’t subtle, Alejandro.”

His gaze unwavering, he answered very softly,
“Sí.”

She was beginning to realize that he used Spanish to convey his most personal feelings. Pointing at him, she whispered,
“El padre.”
Then she pointed to herself.
“La madre
.” She smiled tenderly. “I like the way that sounds.”

Duke had no more words to express his deep sense of love for her; neither Spanish nor English would do justice to the feeling that he was perfectly whole for the first time in his life. She watched his expression, saw his struggle, then reached up with one graceful hand and touched his lips. She shook her head and smiled in a way that said she understood.

“Sweet dreams,
hombre
.”

“Sweet dreams,
querida
Palomino.”

Duke turned the lamp off, then lay back and let her pull the sheet and bedspread over them. She slipped into his outstretched arms and put her head on his shoulder. Tomorrow and its problems waited an eternity away.

“Boss, Mr. Araiza is here.”

Despite her nervousness, Shea smiled wryly at Jennie’s words. “Mr. Araiza” sounded strangely formal, as
if it couldn’t be the name of the man who’d wakened her this morning by sprinkling bran flakes on her naked chest. A healthy breakfast starts the day off right, he’d explained, and then he’d licked them off her quivering skin, one flake at a time.

“Tell him to come right in, Jennie.”

Shea stood, smoothing her hands over her bluejacket and plaid skirt. Her hands trembled, and she swallowed to relieve the tight feeling in her throat. The door opened and Duke walked in. He, too, was dressed for business—tan slacks, a crisp white shirt and dark tie, a light tweed sport coat. A gold tie bar gleamed on his collar, and cuff links made of gold nuggets shown on his shirt cuffs. She inhaled, a little breathless at the change in him. He was devastating but so different.

Then he smiled, and Shea relaxed a little, seeing the reassurance in that smile.

He shut the door lightly, walked over to her desk, and reached across to take her hands in his. “Blues and reds suit you, Ms. Somerton,” he said quaintly, eyeing the red blouse she’d coordinated with her outfit. “You create a very impressive business image.”

“Your business image is quite impressive, also, Mr. Araiza.”

He couldn’t resist a personal note. “I wish I’d insisted on walking you home this morning, so that I could watch you dress for work.”

“I believe we’ve started enough rumors for one day. Several people on the staff were out for an early run. They saw me leave your cottage at dawn.”

“Did they ask questions?”

“No. They waved, looked embarrassed, and ran faster.”

“So? We’ve got nothing to hide. The rules say staff and guests can’t mix. I’m not a guest.”

Shea sighed. “When the time’s right, I’ll make a diplomatic announcement at a staff meeting.”

“Just say, ‘I have great taste and I’ve fallen in love with the new owner. And he loves me.’ ”

“Alejandro, you certainly know how to simplify a situation.”

“The name’s Mr. Araiza, remember.” He gestured toward her desk chair. “Please sit down, Ms. Somerton.”

She sat, and he sat down in the guest chair facing her. Shea rubbed the tense muscles in her forehead and eyed him wearily. “This isn’t going to work,” she said. “I know we agreed to be all business for this meeting, but it feels silly.”

His eyes were both somber and sympathetic. “I think it’ll be easier this way. Humor me.”

Shea nodded. “All right.” She exhaled deeply, tried to ignore the thudding of her heart, and placed a note pad in front of her. Shea picked up a pen and poised it over the pad. “Well, Mr. Araiza, now that you’ve had two weeks to look the estate over, I’d like to know what you think.”

His eyes locked on hers and didn’t waver. “As a business investment, it’s fine. No hassle, management is extremely capable and dependable, and the operation turns a modest but consistent profit. Plus, owning the estate entitles me to a certain amount of social prestige that I didn’t have before.” He paused. “However, I don’t give a tinker’s damn about social prestige, and I do care about my conscience. It sticks in my craw to own a place that has no purpose but to pamper a portion of the population that’s already too pampered.”

Shea nodded again, while dread clutched at her stomach. She knew all this; the important news was still to come. “And therefore, your intentions?” she asked quietly.

“I’m going to divide the estate acreage in half. The half that includes the fat … the health spa, will continue under your management.”

Shea felt her eyes growing wide with wonder and hope. “Alejandro,” she whispered in amazement.

He held up one hand and gave her a warning look. “But I’m going to develop a camp for underprivileged kids on the other half. And those kids will use the estate’s facilities on a regular basis.”

Shea put her pen down and propped her chin on one fist. She felt stunned. “Which facilities?”

“The pools, the stables. I’ll hire a separate staff for the camp—in the state’s social services lingo it’s called a group home—but I’ll also want some of your staff to take part. We’ll set up a schedule—specific times when the kids will be on the estate grounds each day. The guests won’t be inconvenienced that much.”

“What kind of underprivileged kids are we talking about?”

“Like you and I were. Poor. Mostly inner-city kids who’ve never had a chance to see anything but concrete and smog, and country kids who’ve never had a taste of anything fancy.” He smiled grimly. “When I was growing up I had a lot of, uhmmm,
experience
with organizations that try to help kids like that. Now I’m on the board of directors for several groups. I’ve already discussed my plans with them, and they’re enthusiastic.”

“You told me that you knew how to hot-wire a truck by the time you were ten years old,” she reminded him, frowning. “Are you hinting that these organizations work with juvenile delinquents?”

“Mild cases. Rowdy kids but basically harmless.”

Her throat dry with the turmoil of conflicting emotions, Shea rose and walked to a window. She stood with her back to him, her hands clasped rigidly in front of her.
He’s going to resurrect my past
, she thought wretchedly. These kids were living her old life, a painful life she’d struggled to forget.

“Bringing underprivileged teenagers to the estate wouldn’t be too risky,” she told him, trying to sound calm. “But bringing in juvenile delinquents would invite trouble.”

“They’ll be supervised.”

“There will be problems, regardless. The first time a guest misplaces a piece of jewelry the kids will be suspected, whether they stole it or not.”

“We can handle it. I think you’re overreacting.”

Shea’s anger flared. She hurt as if she were being beaten, even though she knew that this plan was noble. She loved him for caring about people, but she couldn’t begin to love his plan. Shea whipped around and faced him.

“The estate will lose clients because of this. People pay thousands of dollars a week to stay here. You can’t expect them to put up with a bunch of problem teenagers.” Duke’s expression was slowly darkening, but she rushed on. “Wouldn’t it be more feasible to keep the camp separate from the estate? You could build a separate stable, separate pools …”

“You love this place. You should understand why I want poor kids to experience it.”

“They won’t benefit,” she countered. “They’ll resent it. They’ll hurt because they have to leave it to go back to a world that’s harsh and disappointing. I know your intentions are good, but what you’re proposing is cruel.”

Breathing harshly, Shea pivoted and stared out the window again. She heard a soft rustling sound and knew that he had gotten up from the chair. Turning her head, her jaw clenched and shoulders stiff, she watched as he walked over to her. Anger was stamped on his face. He grasped her forearm.