His Temporary Wife (26 page)

“We’re going into San Antonio for X-rays.”

“No! I have to go. Tía’s …”

“She’s here,” Angel soothed. “Upstairs, in her office. She came a few minutes ago,
but I guess she saw that a crowd of us was already here.”

Rafael set her down, but didn’t release her completely. “Calm down,” he ordered. “You’re
not going upstairs until we know you’re all right and we’re sure that your aunt won’t
make matters worse.”

“There isn’t any way anything could be worse,” Esmeralda said, her voice sounding
childlike to her own ears. She stiffened her body and inched away from Rafael. “I’ll
be back.” They were watching her with such worry that she searched briefly for words
to make them feel better, but couldn’t think of any. So she just walked away to the
stairwell at the back of the club.

Tina was sitting at her desk making out a deposit slip when Esmeralda shoved the door
open. She jerked, and muttered something as a bill floated to the floor, then pushed
everything to one side.

“I thought I locked the door. This is my private office.” Then she frowned and waved
at the chair in front of her desk. “Sit down before you faint again.” She chuckled.
“Everyone down there probably thinks you’re already pregnant. What a hoot that is,
right?”

Esme sat carefully, holding on to the arms of the chair. She would not fall in front
of this heartless … in front of her mother.

“Spit it out, girl, I have to work.”

“Beto said that he and I are cousins. He said that you’re my mother.”

“No. Adriana is your mother. She and Ernesto adopted you.”

“Why … why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you. And I’m sorry, but I still don’t! I was fifteen and pregnant.
I only had two options, and Adriana had been married five years already. They only
had Beto. They decided to help me by adopting you.” She pushed herself out of the
chair and went to the window. Trying to heal sorrow or guilt she didn’t want Esme
to see?

Esmeralda wasn’t surprised though, when Tina turned back, her eyes dry and her face
expressionless. “Look, I tried to get along with you when you came. I mean, a niece
is family, but you’re not as clingy or annoying as I thought you’d be. We could have
been friends—we can be friends. Just not family. I’m not a woman who wanted children
all those years ago. And I’m still not.”

“Once you said that Cody was the daughter you never had, remember? And all the time,
you had me—”

“You’d understand if you ever met Cody.” Her aunt—her mother—turned back to look out
at the imposing picture. “You should be grateful to me,” Tía continued, after a few
minutes of silence. “You had a roof over your head and food on the table. Now you’ll
have more money than you’ll know what to do with.” She went back to the window, turning
partially toward the club, but still watching Esme with cold eyes. “The money you’ll
get for showing Rafael Benton a good time is all yours. Someone made it very clear
I wouldn’t see any of it. And that means our good friend Andy will be calling some
folks in Chicago. Telling them I can’t pay—ever.” She smiled mirthlessly. “We might
not see each other again. Goodbye, darling.”

Esme made it downstairs on shaky legs and pride, but she knew she couldn’t drive.

“Everything’s fine,” she lied to all the worried faces around her. “Rafael, could
you drive me home? I’m a little light-headed.

He didn’t answer, just put an arm around her shoulder and used the other to shield
her from everyone else as he guided her outside. He buckled her in and hurried around
to the driver’s side, but by the time she had climbed in, the tears had come and she
didn’t try to stop them.

He didn’t press her, just drove, sending occasional glances her way. Without a word,
he helped her out as soon as they got there, and escorted her up to his room. He pressed
her down on the bed, picked up the phone, asked about Justin, and said to call him
if they needed him. Then he came back, sat down beside her, and wrapped his arms around
her, rocking her as if she were a baby.

“What in the world did Beto and Tía do?”

She shook her head and turned enough that she could wrap her arms around his chest
and cling to his strength. When she thought she could control herself enough to regain
some dignity, she answered him. “She’s not my aunt.”

He drew back a little, caught a corner of the sheet, and blotted her tears. “What
do you mean? Aren’t she and your mom sisters? Stepsisters—is that it?”

“No. She’s my mother. She had me at fifteen. She gave me up for adoption. She didn’t
want me then, and she doesn’t want me now.”

“Damn Beto!” He leaped to his feet. “Why would he tell you … you can’t believe him.
He’s not right.”

“He told me. And then …” She drew a shaky breath and met his eyes squarely. “And then
Tina told me the same thing. She made it clear that I wasn’t Cody—the daughter she
never had.”

He collapsed beside her again, stunned. “I—I don’t know what to say. You don’t think
it’s just—they’re both drunks.”

“She wasn’t drunk. And it makes sense, really. My parents—I guess I should say my
aunt and uncle—took care of me because they thought they had to. I’ve been an imposition
all my damn life! And nobody but Toby ever really wanted me, either.”

• • •

I want you. But you wouldn’t believe me right now
. Rafael buried his face in her hair, kissing her scalp, rocking her again, and eventually
she went limp in his arms. He settled her on the bed, slipped off her heels, and covered
her. Then he locked the door, took off his own shoes, and stretched out beside her
to watch her.

She slept restlessly, rolling and tossing and occasionally kicking him with a foot.
He tried to move when she did so that he wouldn’t wake her up. He didn’t think he
could bear to see her face so destroyed by the unexpected news.

Anger percolated through him, the old, killing anger he’d only partially admitted
to Esmeralda. He hadn’t wanted to frighten her. As hurt as she was, if she knew what
he wished he could do to her brother and mother, she would be terrified. He’d have
to remind her tomorrow, though, that Tía wasn’t her mother. She was merely a woman
who’d brought a baby into the world and walked away—much like his own birth mother.

He’d have to put it better than that. He’d hurt her if he made it sound as if she
shouldn’t let the revelation disturb her. Yes, she’d seen the house he’d lived in,
without parents. With friends who were there one day and then gone. She’d had a roof
over her head, food, and protection. In some ways, only the labels for kinship had
changed.

He thought back to her angry words about Tía’s feelings for Cody. Dammit, how much
evil could one person let go on an unsuspecting world? He’d almost lashed out at Esme,
for blaming another of Tía’s victims. Almost.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table, the light going on. Alarmed, he saw that
the call was from his mother. He looked at the time and realized it was earlier than
he thought. Not
10:00 P.M.
yet.

She had texted, and he knew he wouldn’t wake Esme if he answered. But when he read
the actual message, he couldn’t believe she didn’t hear his yelp of dismay.

“Honey, we’ll be home tomorrow. Someone sent us this. Congratulations!” Attached to
the message was a picture. Their wedding picture.

He propped himself on an elbow to look at Esme. She still slept soundly, but the pain
had faded away. How could he expect her to be able to function tomorrow, when she
was shattered? Then again, if anyone could, Esme Salinas could. Esme Salinas Benton,
rather. With a slight smile he turned around and went back to sleep.

• • •

Esme stirred, feeling rested and uncomfortably warm. She was covered, she realized,
surprised, and tossed the bedspread aside. She’d fallen asleep in her street clothes—a
denim dress she often wore. Why hadn’t she changed? She rolled over, and bumped into
the long, hard wall Rafael’s body formed. He cut the bed in half. She didn’t remember—and
then she did. His comforting words. Rocking her to sleep. She just didn’t remember
the part where he lay down beside her and drifted off.

She slipped out of bed. Rafael continued sleeping, an arm thrown over his face, his
cell phone near his hand. She retrieved the phone and put it on the night table, wondering
if he usually slept with it. Then she removed her clothes and slid back under the
covers.

She was tired of the pain, tired of not having anyone. He hadn’t wanted a physical
relationship. She needed one. At least for tonight. Tomorrow they could go back to
their hands off relationship.

“Rafael,” she whispered. He stirred, but didn’t wake. She inched closer, snuggled
into him. He mumbled and moved a hand. She could see the shock when he woke, feeling
her bare skin against his hand. He blinked and would have drawn away, but she shifted,
pressing her knee against his legs, leaning forward to kiss him.

“We weren’t going to do this,” he mumbled, and she shushed him by kissing him again.
She trailed her fingers up his arms.

“Don’t make me beg,” Esme whispered.

“Never.” She caught the hem of his tee and began tugging it off. He maneuvered to
help her. She started with his jeans, but he gently removed her hands. “We can’t,”
he repeated. “You’re reacting to what happened—”

“And you’re reacting to me,” she whispered, moving her hands over him, then replacing
her roaming hands with her mouth. He moaned, but caught her hair and tugged her head
up.

“I don’t have protection. We agreed that if we knew we didn’t have it, we wouldn’t.”

“I’m good,” she whispered, and lowered her head again. When he called her name hoarsely,
she straddled him, crying out as she felt him inside her. Then they both began to
move, urgency building until he pinned her hips and thrust higher and harder, and
she threw her head back and moaned with her own climax. He pulled her back to him,
wrapping her in his arms.

“Esme?”

“Hmm?”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re right. You are good.”

She let her eyes drift shut, trying to remember when she’d said that. When she did,
her heart thudded painfully and she went still. She had lied to him, implied that
she was using protection when she wasn’t. She couldn’t think beyond giving in to the
fire and burning away the pain.

She pretended she’d fallen asleep. Manipulating him one more time, because she couldn’t
bear to disappoint him. She loved him too much.

The smell of coffee woke her up. She turned to see Rafael there, looking apprehensive.

“Time to get up, Esme.”

“Why?” She turned a little and stretched, exposing herself as the sheets fell away.

“Damn, don’t do that!” He grabbed the bedspread and flipped it over her again.

Why didn’t he want…? Fear gripped her. Nobody wanted her. Had she driven Rafael away
by disregarding his hands off policy?

“Don’t think I wouldn’t like to, but we need to reevaluate the situation,” he said,
sounding like a businessman more than a lover. Like a boss rather than a husband.
“Esme, someone sent my parents our wedding photo. They’re in San Antonio on the way
here—maybe half an hour away.”

“You’re kidding, right?” But she was already out of bed, searching for a robe.

“I’ll wait for you in the study,” he murmured, and walked away from her.

• • •

Chris and Alice Benton were nicer than she imagined two people could be, even when
she’d heard they were special. They greeted everyone with hugs and kisses, and Mrs.
Benton wouldn’t let Esmeralda go.

“Don’t you dare call me Mrs. Anything,” she scolded. “You’re family, so you have a
choice. You may call me Alice.”

Rafael’s father shot his wife an amused look. “You only gave her one name, Alice,”
he reminded her. “What’s the other choice?”

“Well, on second thought, there’s no other choice.”

Esme laughed and nodded. “I’ll call you Chris,” she said to his dad.

Surprisingly, neither interrogated her. When they found out she was from Laredo, they
commented on how much they liked her hometown. When he commented on the color of Esme’s
hair, Chris touched his wife’s white hair and said, “Believe it or not, this was red,
too.”

The four of them crawled around the floor looking for Justin’s toys when he tossed
them, and Chris made a huge fuss over Chief and Luc. “Haven’t seen ’em for what—two
years?”

“At least,” Rafael said easily. “Hard to believe I’ve been here in Truth that long
already.

“Well, boy, you’ve got a home in Houston when you want it.” He smiled at Esme. “You,
too, Mrs. Benton,” he told her, his blue eyes dancing.

“We’re probably staying here, Dad,” Rafael ventured, his tone gentle. “The place grows
on you.”

He snorted. “If you say so.”

“Any more problems with claimants?” Rafael asked, and his father shook his head. “No.
Things quieted down when the probate news got old. The main concern’s still good old
Doug.”

The two elder Bentons excused themselves a short while later, claiming jet lag and
old age—a malady, according to Alice , that could cause severe bouts of wanting-to-sleep-itis.

“I have that and I’m not old.” Esme grinned.

On their way out, Alice stopped to hug and kiss Esme. “As sudden as it was, I’m so
glad y’all married,” she admitted. “I don’t begrudge anyone their freedom, and I know
it’s not what it used to be—but it’s worked for us.”

“And my parents,” Esme concurred, not really lying. They were still together. But
then she realized that they weren’t her parents at all, and had to fight to keep from
losing her composure again.

Rafael was suddenly there beside her, looping an arm around her shoulder, and squeezing
her. “We’ll see you later, then,” he told them. “Go ahead and get some sleep. We’ll
have to show you Esme’s horse later. She’s keeping the others good company.”

“Sounds good,” Chris said approvingly, then winked. “And maybe Alice and I can join
Esmeralda in a little karaoke. She’s going to be a good influence on you, son. Get
you right with country music again.”