Summer Dreams (16 page)

Natalia was about to argue with him when she glimpsed a man standing at the top of the stairs, bent over the maitre d's desk. She couldn't see his face because it was turned away from her, but from this angle, he reminded her of Esteban. He had the same broad shoulders, slim waist and powerful thighs. But this stranger was dressed in a tuxedo. She couldn't imagine Esteban in a tuxedo.

Closing her eyes, she willed the image away. It was as if she was going mad. Everything reminded her of Esteban. She opened her eyes. The stranger faced her now. And he wasn't a stranger. It was Esteban!

And suddenly she remembered---the name of the resort, Mariposa, and Esteban's hatred of wearing a monkey suit. She'd known he worked at a posh resort near Taos, but she hadn't paid attention to which one. How could Hector be so unlucky as to pick the place where Esteban worked?

Now Esteban had spotted her. And he was coming to their table.

Like a doomed moth mesmerized by a flame, she couldn't keep her eyes off him. The cut of his tuxedo was exquisite, perfectly-tailored for his athletic build. His wide shoulders seemed to fill the room. The jacket's cut-away torso accentuated his slender waist. The strip of satin running down the trousers drew attention to his long, powerful legs.

His features, above the white shirt were as handsome as any movie star's. His short-cropped brown hair gave him an authoritative air, and the granite gray of his eyes added to his potent masculine allure. His Roman nose reminded her of a god's profile on an ancient coin.  And the bold slash of his mouth begged to be kissed.

Following behind the waiter with their appetizers, he waited while they were served.  Self-absorbed Hector hadn't noticed him. Natalia could do nothing but notice him. Every nerve-ending she possessed quivered, strung tight as high-voltage wires.

Making a show of eating her appetizer, she pushed it around the small plate with a fork.  She didn't even like
paté
. Why had she let Hector order for her?

"I trust you're enjoying your dinner, Miss Colón and Mister García," Esteban's voice broke over them.

Hector's head jerked up, his mouth half-filled with duck liver and toast. Unable to find her voice, Natalia didn't respond. Her ex-fiancé, his features contorted in disbelief and irritation, swallowed quickly and dabbed at his mouth.

"Yes, we were enjoying our dinner, Mister Montalvo, until you came along." Pausing, as if considering, he said, "So this is the resort where you work."

"Yes, I have that distinct honor."

"Maybe not for long. I know some of the owners. A word here, a word there---to the right people. And suddenly, they're cutting back staff." Hector winked at Esteban.

Esteban shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised by anything you do, Mister García, no matter how low-down and nasty it might be." Indicating the ring sitting in the middle of the table, he said, "You can't get much lower than demanding your engagement ring back."

Natalia had never seen Hector move so fast.

He leapt from his chair and launched himself at Esteban, swinging wildly with his fists.  With the aplomb of a trained athlete, Esteban stepped to one side, while blocking the blows with his arms.

Natalia got to her feet and tried to thrust herself between the two men while screaming, "Help! Somebody stop them!"

A sickening crunch echoed through the startled room, and Esteban went down on one knee. Crimson blood streamed from his nose, staining the pristine white of his shirt. Terrified, Natalia rushed to his side. Two waiters grabbed Hector from behind and pulled him away. He sank into a chair while the waiters hovered over him, ready to pounce again if necessary.

Grabbing a napkin, she held it to Esteban's streaming nose, while trying to pinch the bridge to stop the bleeding. She pulled him down and cradled his head in her lap. "Just lie still, Esteban, it will be okay. Just lie still."

A man attired in an expensive suit and tie approached the table. His sharp glance took in the battle scene. Leaning down, he placed one hand on Hector's shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Gesturing at Esteban, Hector protested loudly, claiming Esteban had started the fight.

Natalia had heard all she wanted to hear, had seen all she wanted to see. Facing the man in the suit, she pointed at Hector and said, "He's the one who started it. He's my date, I'm sorry to say. I saw the whole thing. Esteban only defended himself. He didn't even try to hit back."

Hector towered over her. "That's enough, Natalia," he hissed. "We'll leave now. Get up."

"I won't!" She cried, not caring what anyone thought. "You go." She pointed toward the front door. "And take your damned ring with you."

Chapter Eight

Natalia's long, blue-black hair hung forward, obscuring her beautiful features, while she concentrated on wiping blood from his face. Her fingers fluttered over him like the softest of moth's wings. His injuries faded to the background, the pain gone while he savored her tender touch, feeling as if he'd died and gone to heaven.

Satisfied with his face, she touched his wrist lightly, tentatively. "You think its hurt?" Wiggling his fingers, he grimaced. "I know it's sprained."

"Maybe we should get you to the emergency room so a doctor can look at it."

"Nah, a doctor won't be able to do much. He'll just tell me to keep it immobilized and not use it. I know how to rig a sling. I've had more than my share of injuries from playing ball."

She covered her mouth with her hand and her cinnamon-colored eyes went wide. "The scout," she croaked. "What about the scout? And it's your right hand too."

Esteban chuckled. "Hey, it's okay, Natalia, I'll live."

The fight must have shaken her more than it had him. She'd driven them to his apartment in his car because he'd asked her. Obviously, he hadn't wanted to try and drive with only his left hand. But he hadn't spelled it out for her. And she hadn't made the connection.

She jumped up and paced his small living room. "First, your job and now your wrist. Oh, Esteban, can you forgive me?" She stopped pacing and covered her face with her hands. "This is my fault."

"Come here," he coaxed. "And I'll show you just how forgiving I can be."

Her tawny eyes widened. She stood very still, staring at him. Even in her blood-soaked cocktail dress, she was the stuff dreams were made of---wet dreams.

Her high, pointed breasts beckoned him, a perfect fit for his hands. The dress clung to her tiny waist and flared over the oh-so-feminine rounding of her hips. Even with her high-heels kicked off, her legs were lovely, supple and taut, long and lean. Thinking about those legs wrapped around his hips while he drove into her, made him instantly hard.

Natalia was the one who broke the spell, as if she was purposely backing away from the sexual charge leaping between the two of them.

She resumed her pacing. "I can't believe they fired you, Esteban. It must be a mistake. I tried to explain, but I know I wasn't very coherent. I'll go back tomorrow and talk to the manager again."

"Natalia, don't bother. The general manager fired me, and he never backs down from a decision." He didn't add that Hector had probably made good on his threat. She already felt guilty enough. "That's the way it is in the hospitality business, the customer is always right."

"But what will you do for a job?"

"There are lots of resorts where I can work."

"Without a reference?"

"Natalia," he chided. "You worry too much. This wasn't my first job, you know. I've other references I can use."

"Oh, that's good," she paused for a second as if gathering her thoughts. "But the scout, Esteban. How long before you can play ball again?"

Her reminder made him gulp and this time, he felt a sinking sensation inside his guts.  His wrist wouldn't be better in time for the scout. It was over. What was meant to be was meant to be. And now was the time to put his philosophy in practice. Just talking about accepting God's will wasn't good enough. He had to be able to accept the consequences.

Suck it up. And get on with your life.

He shrugged while cradling his wrist. "It wasn't meant to be, Natalia. I explained to you how I feel about baseball. And there's still the showcase," he added, more to comfort her than himself.

"But it's my fault, Esteban," she almost sobbed. "I wasn't going to go out with Hector, but Pura wanted me to break the news that she didn't want to have anything to do with his road across her farm." She hesitated. "I'm not trying to blame my grandmother …"

She stopped and covered her face again. "Oh, hell, I guess I am." She uncovered her eyes and looked at him. "I did it for Pura, so she wouldn't have to see Hector again. But I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have known---"

"Known what? Oh, I know, you should have remembered I worked at the Mariposa, right? Hey, there you are, Natalia, it's all your fault. Happy now?"

He rose and crossed the tiny room in one stride. He put his good arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "It wasn't your fault, Natalia. Quit blaming yourself. If you want to blame someone, your ex-fiancé is a good choice. He doesn't know when to let well enough alone."

"I know, I know." She said with her voice muffled against his chest. "Hector is a slime ball and both times you didn't go after him. He went after you."

"See now, not your fault. Just a bad coincidence that I worked where Hector wanted to take you to dinner." He hoped he'd convinced her because he was so tired of arguing. All he wanted to do was hold her close and never let her go.

She felt so good, so right in his arms. The sweet jasmine smell of her hair tantalized his nose. Her high, soft breasts were pressed against his bloodied shirt, molding their fullness to his chest, driving him wild with need. Her long, shapely legs were entwined with his own. He felt himself growing hard again.

But it wasn't right to take advantage of her like this because she was filled with guilt and that made her particularly vulnerable.

Sighing, he released her and stepped back. "I'm getting tired of holding my arm," he said. "Can you help me with a sling?" He inclined his head toward the kitchen. "There are some rags in the cabinet under the sink. Would you mind getting the largest piece you can find."

She nodded and went into the kitchen. Returning with part of an old sheet, he instructed her how to fold it and then tie it around his shoulder to support his arm.

"There." She stepped back, surveying her handiwork. "How's that? Does your wrist feel okay? Is the knot tight enough?"

"It is fine, Natalia. You would make a great nurse."

"I've had some experience, taking care of my students when they got into scrapes."

"That explains your expertise," he said. But not her infinite capacity for caring about other people. It was one of the qualities that had captured his heart.

He yawned and said, "Hey, I'm really tired. And I'd like to get out of this monkey suit."  

He glanced down and grimaced. "I think the shirt's a total loss, don't you?" He didn't wait for her to answer and said, "I'm sure you're tired too. Why don't you drive my car back home? You can pick me up tomorrow." He grinned. "After all, I don't have to be anywhere. I think I'll enjoy a short vacation."

"I don't want to go, Esteban." She raised her head and snagged his gaze. "At least not yet."

Her unspoken message hit him like a thunderbolt. What was she hinting at? That she wanted to spend the night with him? No, that couldn't be. Get a grip,
hombre
, slow down. Don't let your glands do the supposing, as tempting as her offer might be.

Not in his wildest dreams had he considered having an affair with her. He wanted her for his wife, and as much as he desired her, he was more than willing to wait until the time was right, even if it meant waiting for their honeymoon.

But if she's willing, the devil in him urged, it will bind her to you. 

No, it wasn't right. She felt guilty about tonight and the guilt had lowered her inhibitions, making her vulnerable. He refused to take advantage of her. But he couldn't order her from his apartment, either. She needed to believe he would be okay. That she hadn't ruined his career.

But how to reassure her? Maybe if they relaxed and talked, she'd feel better. Give her some time to get over what had happened tonight.

"Okay, you're welcome to stay," he said. "Do you want to call Pura and explain where you are?"

She glanced at the kitchen clock and shook her head. "She's fallen asleep by now. I don't want to wake her."

"You don't mind if I change?" Then an inspiration hit him, and he said, "It's gotten cool tonight. Why don't you open the patio door, and I'll make a fire." It was the one amenity he had in his small apartment, a working fireplace. Gazing into the flames always relaxed him. He hoped it would have the same effect on Natalia.

He bent down and pulled back the fire screen. He started to lift a log from the bucket by the hearth, but Natalia stopped him, taking the log from his hand. "Go and change. I'll do this.  And I'll get the door too."

"I could get used to this." He smiled at her.

She returned his smile before lowering her eyes. Her long, silky eyelashes fanned her cheeks. He yearned to take her in his arms again but knew that wasn't wise. He turned and crossed to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He started to undress and realized he would need to remove the sling.

He shrugged out of it and pressed his injured wrist against his side for support. Getting undressed wasn't too difficult but pulling on his jeans proved to be a challenge. He managed to put on his shirt but discovered he couldn't button it with one hand. Glancing in the mirror at his half-revealed chest, he worried that his state of undress might seem provocative.

But that was silly. Natalia had seen his bare chest lots of times at the farm. And besides, he could ask her to button it for him and replace the sling. That should make her feel useful and help to soothe her conscience.

When he opened the door to the living room, the sight that greeted him almost knocked his socks off ... if he'd been wearing any.