From This Day Forward (5 page)

And just why the hell had she accepted this insane proposition and come to Brazil, unless she too was running away from something?

That thought stilled him, and he squinted his eyes toward that silent door, as if he could see through it all the way into her soul by dint of will.

He'd surrounded himself with fresh, new things. He didn't like antiques and the secrets they brought with them. He didn't like secrets at all, even his own. He gave a snort and decided that thought deserved another drink.

Still, he had to admit she was a beautiful woman, a woman who exuded an aura of sensuality that kept his blood in a constant uproar. His hands ached to feel the texture of her pure, ivory skin, to caress that glorious rich brown hair. He yearned to taste the sweetness of her mouth, hold her body against his, bury himself deep inside her and make her his own.

His hand trembled as he brought the bottle to his lips once again and drank deeply, wincing at the burning sensation that spread throughout his body. Returning the bottle to the table, he held his hand before his eyes and studied it critically—the rough skin, the calluses, the dirty, broken fingernails. He didn't know if he could bear to touch her. There was something fine about her, something elegant and pure. Just looking at her made him feel dirty and unworthy.

She'd been right, of course. He had been avoiding her and avoiding the inevitable consummation of their marriage, the very inevitability of which was a sweet torture, one that he savored even as it tormented him. It gave a special edge to every moment, making him feel more vitally alive than he had in a very long time.

Sweet agony, it was. Sweet agony.

Perhaps she welcomed the respite. He had believed she would, being a woman and naturally timid. At least he'd thought so until she'd come in search of him that morning. Goddamn her timing!

He'd been so stunned by her sudden appearance that he hadn't even had the presence of mind to cover himself. She should have been mortified at the sight of a naked man, but she had absolutely ogled him.

He came to his feet with a brutal curse, flinging the whiskey bottle down onto the patio to splinter into a thousand shards of glass.

The breath tore through his chest with such force that he couldn't move for several moments, and then he began to pace, back and forth across the patio like some caged beast in a carnival.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of shutters at the window on the second floor. She had obviously heard the crashing of the bottle against the brick patio, and now she stood at the window, her body only the whisper of a shadow through the glass. But it was enough to set his blood afire.

She stood there watching him. He knew it, though he couldn't see her eyes. Damn her boldness! Why didn't she turn away and go back to bed and leave him in peace? Why did she stand there like a statue, looking at him, examining him, trying to break through his defenses?

Cursing savagely, he turned away, furious that she had forced him to be the one to break the tableau. A blinding rage shuddered through him as he stalked toward the stairs and bounded up them. When he emerged onto the balcony, Caroline no longer stood at the window. Allowing himself a triumphant smile, he grasped the doorknob and rattled it viciously, more to frighten her than to break into her rooms.

Not so bold after all, he mused, only slightly ashamed of his victory. What did she think? That he'd flown up the stairs to throttle her or ravish her?

Did she think a door would keep him out should he choose to do so?

After a while, the terrible noise abated and Caroline released the sigh that had been wedged in her throat. She waited, listening, her back against the closed bedroom door. Though her eyes remained dry, sob after wretched sob racked her body. She trembled so violently she feared she might be ill.

Soon she heard his booted footfalls retreat from the outer door, and her body sagged with relief.

What had she done? She'd married a madman! And now she was trapped here in the remotest Amazon.

Trapped. Defenseless.

The jungle may seem cruel,
he'd written,
but there is no senseless violence in the jungle, except that wrought by man. Man is truly a beast to be feared above all others.

Shivering, she went to stand at the open bedroom window, gazing down at the night-shrouded jungle, wondering if Jason himself were a beast to be feared above all others.

Caroline paced back and forth just inside the stable, waiting impatiently for Jason to arrive. After awakening to the crashing sound on the patio below her window and taking part in a silent battle of wills with Jason—a battle she had lost miserably—she hadn't been able to get back to sleep.

That moment of fear had kept her awake all night. He'd wanted her to fear him, she realized in the early hours of the morning as she tried to sort out all that had happened since she arrived.

Was he displeased with her, or would he have treated any woman with the same contempt and anger? She didn't know how to approach him, how to reach the man inside, but in those dawning hours, she'd decided he was worth the effort, even if he did sometimes frighten her with his rages.

So she had dressed just before dawn and come to the stable, determined that he wouldn't slip out without her today. Whatever it was that made him so angry, that made him lash out at her, she would make him face it. There was only one way to do that, and that was to confront him and not let him intimidate her. As appealing as the idea of remaining safely locked away in her room might be, she had to face him and carve out a place in his life or she might as well pack her bags and leave now.

She didn't have long to wait. Jason strode into the stable dressed much as he had been that first day—tan breeches tucked inside knee-high boots, ivory shirt stretched across the broad muscles of his shoulders.

At sight of his master, the large bay stallion that had been standing sedately while the young groom, Julio, saddled it, began to whinny and toss its head in recognition.

Jason regarded Caroline casually, then walked past her without a word and began murmuring softly to the horse, petting the animal with surprising tenderness. How could he be so gentle with an animal and so harsh with his own wife?

"He's ready to go this morning,
patra
o,"
the groom said with a smile, and the talk between the two men quickly turned to coffee cultivation.

Caroline had learned quite a lot about the other side of the coffee business while working for the

Sinclair Coffee Company—receiving cargoes, packing for resale. If she could somehow learn about coffee planting and harvesting, she would be able to converse knowledgeably with her husband about the one subject that seemed to consume him.

Caroline made a mental note to ask her husband if there were books on the subject in the library. Or maybe she could find someone on the
fazenda
willing to teach her.

Jason approached, interrupting her thoughts, and Caroline smiled sweetly at him, hoping to disconcert him and succeeding. His bemused frown turned quickly into a scowl, but that instant of dismay satisfied her—for the moment. If he thought he could intimidate her by prowling around beneath her window all night and lunging at her like a wild beast, he would soon learn otherwise. He'd taken her by surprise last night. It wouldn't happen again.

Jason walked past her into the yard. The groom followed, leading the horses, and Caroline trailed behind. Jason took the reins of the bay stallion and swung effortlessly into the saddle.

The groom helped Caroline mount and she hurried to catch up with her husband, drawing alongside him as they started down the path she had taken yesterday to the
beneficio.
Her whole being quickened at that memory, and she forced her mind away, concentrating instead on her surroundings.

Lovely banana and palm trees grew along the path, but the absolute cleanness of the jungle floor still amazed her, as it had on her journey up the Amazon. Unlike the forests around the Mississippi River, undergrowth was virtually nonexistent here in the Amazon Valley.

"It's so isolated here, so primitive," she said, a bit in awe. "You could almost forget the rest of the world exists."

"Almost," he replied, and Caroline couldn't help wondering at the bitter smile that curved his lips.

As they rode slowly, the complete isolation of the jungle closed in around her and she wondered how he endured it. Did he even feel the loneliness?

I am so far removed from civilization here,
he'd written,
that sometimes I forget what it was like to have a casual conversation or to walk down a busy street and hear the sound of carriages passing by.

Yes, he felt it. But she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted him to talk about himself, to share something of his thoughts and feelings so she could reconcile this reality with those lovely, often poignant letters.

"You've been here so long. Don't you ever get lonely?" she asked.

He gazed sidelong at her, as he gave his horse's neck an affectionate pat. A corner of his mouth turned upward in a half smile as his turquoise gaze traveled the length of her body in a slow, calculated perusal that brought hot color to her face.

"Well, I suppose that's why you're here," he said, wheeling his horse around and plunging down the narrow path.

Speechless for the second time in her life, Caroline watched her husband ride away until he disappeared around a bend in the path. A slow smile curved her lips.

"Maybe the man's not made of stone after all," she said aloud. This could prove to be a very interesting morning.

Chapter
Three

Caroline caught up with Jason
at the edge of the orchards. A sea of coffee trees stretched before her in neat, straight rows. Their white blooms reminded her of the snow she'd seen as a girl while accompanying her father on a business trip to Nashville.

Jason sat forward in the saddle, his posture straight and majestic as he surveyed his domain. His spirited stallion tossed its head and snorted as if eager to be moving again. Jason patted it on the neck and murmured softly to soothe the animal.

When he finally spoke to Caroline, his voice resounded with pride. "Everyone laughed when they learned that I planned to grow coffee so deep in the jungle."

"Why?" she asked with genuine curiosity. Everything about this enigmatic, passionate man intrigued her.
Why did you try to frighten me last night?
she wanted to ask.

Jason shrugged. "The difficulty of getting it to market. They thought I'd be spending all my profits on transportation, if I had any profits."

"No, I mean why grow coffee so deep in the jungle?"

"Because no one had done it before," he replied without hesitation.

"But no one has leaped off a cliff and survived either."

It seemed a perfectly logical observation to Caroline, but Jason studied her as if she were some strange animal that had crawled out of the jungle and had the nerve to challenge him. Irritation showed plainly on his handsome features.

"Haven't you ever wanted to do something just to prove you could do it?" he asked, gazing across his domain once again. "I subdued the jungle and planted seeds that took root and became coffee trees. I built a home—"

"It seems more like a fortress to me," Caroline couldn't help interjecting.

Jason straightened in his saddle as if preparing to defend his position. "I suppose it is a fortress of sorts. It keeps the jungle out."

She withdrew a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at the perspiration on her face and throat, determined to remain calm despite the growing ire she sensed in her companion. "Are you sure that's all you want to keep out?"

She studied the kaleidoscope of emotions that moved across his expressive face. Anger showed clearly in the set of his jaw and the fire in those pale slate-blue eyes.

"You ask too damned many questions." He pointed toward a grove dotted with white blooms, diverting her from the subject at hand. "I grow trees that are a combination of Arabica and Robusta. They bloom like Arabica which grows best in the mountains, but they're stronger like Robusta which can grow anywhere. That's why I decided to develop my own strain. The coffee is uniquely mine in flavor, aroma, and smoothness."