His Thirty-Day Fiancee (11 page)

Watching Jennifer finish her introductions, Duarte was struck by how much she looked like her sister. They shared the same general build and rich brown hair, the strong island sun emphasizing caramel-colored highlights. But most of all, he couldn’t miss how much Jennifer adored her older sister. The love and protectiveness Kate displayed was clearly returned.

Bringing them together had been the right thing. And here on his father’s island he could offer the sisters some of the pampering they had been denied.

Duarte turned to Kate. “Javier will take you both back to the house. Shannon will help you settle in while I go see my father with Tony. Anything you need, just ask.”

He dropped a quick kiss on Kate’s cheek, playing the attentive fiancé.

Jennifer quickly hooked arms with her sister. “Let me see the ring…”

Their voices drifted off and Duarte faced his brother alone for the first time since he’d stepped off the ferry. Tony’s normally lighthearted ways were nowhere in sight today.

Duarte took the keys from his younger brother’s extended hand. “Any change in his condition?”

“His fever is down and the breathing treatments help him rest more comfortably.” Tony closed the car door, sitting in the passenger seat. “But the core problem with his liver hasn’t been solved.”

He turned the key and the Porsche SUV purred to life. “Has he considered a transplant?”

“That’s a sticky subject for the old guy.” Tony hooked his arm out the open window as they pulled away from the ferry. “For starters, he would have to go to the mainland. His doctors are of mixed opinion as to whether he’s a good candidate.”

“So we just wait around for him to die?” What had happened to their father, the fighter? “That doesn’t seem right.”

Enrique may have turned into a recluse, but he’d rebuilt a minikingdom of his own here off the coast of Florida. Duarte guided the vehicle along the narrow paved road paralleling the shore.

When he’d first arrived here as a kid, the tropical jungle had given him the perfect haven. He would evade the guards and run until his heart felt like it would burst. Over time he’d realized the pain had more to do with losing his mother, with watching her murder. Then he’d begun martial arts training as well so he could go back to San Rinaldo one day. So he could take out the people responsible for his mother’s death.

By the time he reached adulthood, he realized he would never have the revenge he’d craved as a child. His only vengeance came in not letting them win. He wouldn’t be conquered.

He’d thought his father carried the same resolve. Duarte forced his attention back on the present and his brother’s words.

“His health concerns are complicated by more than just the remote locale. There’s the whole issue of finding a donor. Chances are greatly increased when the donor is of the same ethnicity.”

“Which means we should be tested. Maybe one of us can donate a lobe,” Duarte said without hesitation.

“Again, he says no. He insists that route poses too great a risk to us.” Tony stared out over the ocean. While Duarte had used running to burn off his frustration, the youngest Medina brother had gravitated to the shore for swimming, surfing and later, sailing.

“He’s stubborn as hell.”

Tony turned back, his grin wry. “You’re one to talk. I’m surprised you actually brought Kate Harper here. And that you gave her our mother’s ring. You’re not exactly the forgiving sort.”

It wasn’t Beatriz’s wedding ring—Carlos had that— and in fact Duarte hadn’t remembered her wearing that one as clearly as he recalled the ruby she’d worn on her other hand. As a child, he’d toyed with it while she told him stories of her own family. She’d been of royal descent, but her parents had been of modest means. She’d wanted her sons to value hard work and empathize with the people of San Rinaldo.

What would life have been like if she’d made it out of the country with them?

But she hadn’t, and what-ifs wasted time. Her death must be weighing heavier on his mind because of his father’s failing health. And now, he would see his father for what could be the last time.

The clinic—a one-story building, white stucco with a red tile roof—sported two wings, perched like a bird on the manicured lawn. One side held the offices for regular checkups, eye exams and dental visits. The other side was reserved for hospital beds, testing and surgeries.

Duarte parked the car in front and pocketed the keys. Guards nodded a welcome without relaxing their stance. They weren’t Buckingham Palace-stiff, but their dedication to their mission couldn’t be missed.

Electric doors slid open. A blast of cool, antiseptic air drifted out. The clinic was fully staffed with doctors and nurses on hand to see to the health concerns of the small legion that ran Enrique’s island home. Most were from San Rinaldo or relatives of the refugees.

Tony pointed to the correct door, although Duarte would have known from the fresh pair of heavily armed sentinels. Bracing, he stepped inside the hospital room.

The former king hadn’t requested any special accommodations beyond privacy. There were no flowers or balloons or even cards to add color to the sterile space. The stark room held a simple chair, a rolling tray, a computer…

And a single bed.

Wearing paisley pajamas, Enrique Medina needed a shave. That alone told Duarte how ill the old man was.

He’d also lost weight since Duarte’s last visit in May when he’d brought their half sister Eloisa over for her first trip to the island since she was a child. His father had been making a concerted effort to reconcile with his children.

A sigh rattled Enrique’s chest and he adjusted the plastic tubes feeding oxygen into his nose. “Thank you for coming,
mi hijo.
”

My son.

“Of course.” He stepped deeper into the room. The old man had never been the hugging type. Duarte clapped him on the shoulder once. Damn, nothing but skin and bones. “Antonio says you’re responding well to the treatment. When are you going to get a liver transplant?”

Scowling from one son to the other, Enrique said, “When did you become a nag like your brother?”

Tony spun on his heel. “I think I hear the guards calling me.”

When the door closed, Duarte gave no quarter. “Still as stubborn as ever, I see, old man. I just didn’t expect you to stop fighting.”

“I’m still alive, am I not? My doctors wrote me off months ago.” He waved a hand, veins bruised from IVs. “Enough about my health. I have no interest in discussing my every ache and ailment. I want to know more about your fiancée.”

Duarte dropped into a chair. “Ah, so you held on long enough to meet her? Perhaps I should delay the introduction.”

“If one of you promised a grandchild, you might get nine more months out of me.”

“It’s unfair to put your mortality on our shoulders.”

“You are right,” Enrique said, his calculating eyes still as sharp as ever in spite of his failing body. “What do you intend to do about it?”

Duarte weighed his next words. The old monarch passed on his sense of humor to Antonio and his intense drive to Carlos.

Duarte inherited his father’s strategic abilities. Which told him exactly what he needed to say to get Enrique out of the hospital bed.

“You can meet Kate…when you get well enough to leave the clinic and come back to the house.”

Who wouldn’t stare at the trees and the wildlife and the palatial residence? She and Jennifer had grown up in a small three-bedroom Cape Cod–style house outside Boston, comfortable in their second-story rooms. Kate had painted Jennifer’s a bright yellow to go with photos she’d snapped of sunflowers and birds. She’d put a lot of effort into creating a space for her sister, the way a mother would have done. Jennifer had called the room her garden.

No wonder her sister was entranced by the botanical explosion surrounding the Medina mansion. The place was the size of some hotels. Except she usually wasn’t escorted to her hotel by a scowling head of security. Javier sat beside Shannon, eyeing Kate suspiciously the whole drive over.

The limousine slowed, easing past a towering marble fountain with a “welcome” pineapple on top—and wasn’t that ironic in light of all those guards? Once the vehicle stopped, more uniformed security appeared from out of nowhere to open the limo.

Even a butler waited beside looming double doors.

Once inside, Kate couldn’t hold back a gasp of her own. The cavernous circular hall sported gilded archways leading to open rooms. Two staircases stretched up either side, meeting in the middle. And she would bet good money that the Picasso on the wall wasn’t a reproduction.

Shannon touched her elbow. “Everything will be taken up to the room.”

“We don’t have much.” Kate passed her camera bag and Jennifer’s backpack to the butler. “Duarte told me they—”

“—already have everything prepared. That’s the Medina way,” Shannon said, her words flavored with a light Texas twang. “Let’s go straight through to the veranda. I’d like you to meet my son, Kolby.”

Her footsteps echoing on the marble floor, Kate thought back to what she knew about Antonio Medina’s fiancée and remembered the widowed Shannon had a three-year-old child from her first marriage, the boy she’d called Kolby.

Kate walked past what appeared to be a library. Books filled three walls, interspersed with windows and a sliding brass ladder. The smell of fresh citrus hung in the air, and not just because of the open windows. A tall potted orange tree nestled in one corner beneath a wide skylight. Mosaic tiles swirled outward on the floor, the ceiling filled with frescoes of globes and conquistadors. She pulled her eyes from the elaborate mural as they reached French doors leading out to a pool and seaside veranda.

A million-dollar view spread in front of her, and a towheaded little boy sprinted away from his sitter toward his mom. Shannon scooped up Kolby, the future princess completely natural and informal with her son.

Kate decided then and there that she liked the woman.

Shuffling Kolby to her hip, Shannon turned to Jennifer. “What would you like to do today?”

“What do I get to pick from?” Jennifer spun on her tennis shoes. “Are you sure it’s too cold to go swimming in the ocean?”

Kate’s heart warmed at Shannon’s obvious ease with Jennifer.

“You could take a dip in the pool out here. It’s heated.” Shannon patted her son’s back as he drooped against her, eyes lolling. “There’s also a movie theater with anything you want to see. They’ve added a spa with pedicures and manicures even recently.”

Jennifer clapped her hands. “Yes, that’s what I want, painted toenails and no snow boots.”

Laughing, Shannon set her groggy son on a lounger and walked to the drink bar. “You’re a kindred spirit.”

“What does that mean?” Jennifer asked.

Shannon poured servings of lemonade—fresh squeezed, no doubt. “We’re sister spirits.” She passed crystal goblets to each of them. Her eyes were curious behind retro black glasses. “I live to have my feet massaged.”

“And when Katie marries Artie—” Jennifer’s brown eyes lit with excitement as she clutched her drink “—we’ll be sisters for real since you’re marrying his brother.”

Shannon spewed her sip. “Artie?”

Stifling a smile, Kate set aside her lemonade. “He prefers to be called Duarte.”

Seeing how quickly Jennifer accepted these people into her heart sent a trickle of unease down Kate’s spine. This was just the kind of thing she’d wanted to avoid. Explaining the breakup would have been difficult enough before. But now? It would be far more upsetting. Her frustration with Duarte grew.

Jennifer hooked arms with her sister. “I know you’re the one who is going to marry Artie—uh, Duarte. But I already feel like a princess.”

Throughout the meal, Kate had stayed silent for the most part, only answering questions when directly asked. He wanted to tell himself she was simply tired. But now, watching her charge through her bedroom taking inventory of her surroundings and setting up her computer, she brimmed with frustrated energy. Her dress whipped around her leather knee boots.

No more waiting. He had to know what had set her off. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” She spun away from the canopy bed, anger shooting icicles from her eyes. “It’s helpful to a person when you elaborate rather than bark out one- and two-word orders.”

He was completely clueless as to what pissed her off and that concerned him more than anything. He should at least have some idea. “Explain to me what has made you angry, and don’t bother denying that you’re upset.”

“Oh, believe me.” She sauntered closer, stopping by her camera case resting on a chaise at the end of her bed. “I wasn’t planning to deny a thing. I was simply waiting for a private moment alone with you.”

“Then let’s have it.”

She jabbed him in the chest, the kimono sleeves of her dress whispering against him. “You had no right to interfere in my life by bringing Jennifer here.”

What the hell? Her accusation blindsided him. “I thought seeing your sister would make you happy.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get her into that facility, a place that fits her needs but also makes her happy?” Her words hissed through clenched teeth as she obviously tried to keep her voice down. “What if they give someone else her spot?”

That, he could fix. “I will make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“Argh!” She growled her frustration. “You can’t just take over like that. You’re not responsible for her. You have no say in her life. And while we’re on that subject, how did you even arrange for her to leave? Good God, maybe I should move her anyway if security is that lax in the center. I’m shelling out a small fortune for Jennifer to live there. What if someone had kidnapped her?”

All right, he could see her point somewhat, even if he didn’t agree. “I told you before. I had round-the-clock guards watching her
and
the facility—” he saw her jaw tighten and added “—which is quite nice by the way, like a boarding school. You’ve done an admirable job for your sister.”

And she’d done it all alone without her father’s help. That kind of pressure could explain her over-the-top reaction.

“I searched long and hard to find a place where she could live given how much I have to travel.” Her chest heaved and her cheeks pinked with her rising emotions. “It wasn’t easy and now you’ve jeopardized that. I simply can’t let it pass that they released her to you without even consulting me.”

Now he was starting to get pissed off himself. He’d been thinking of her and he wasn’t accustomed to explaining himself to people. “I’m not a random stranger claiming a connection. It’s well documented and, thanks to your job, highly publicized that I’m your fiancé. My name is known at that facility whether you like it or not and Javier was acting on my authority. We have the space for Jennifer here, as well as the staff on hand for anything she needs. In case you didn’t notice, she’s very happy with the arrangement.”

“Of course she’s happy. And that’s going to make it all the tougher when we have to go back to our everyday, middle-class life. I can’t afford—” she gestured around her wildly, her eyes lingering on a framed Esteban March battle painting “—all of this. I don’t want her getting attached to the lifestyle.”

Then it became clear. He stroked down her arm, ready to entice her anger away in the canopy bed. “
You
don’t want to get attached.”

She dodged his touch. “You’ll be out of my life in about three weeks. You’ve only been
in
my life less than a week. Be honest, you don’t want a real relationship with me any more than I want to be a part of your crazy world. This needs to stop before someone gets hurt. We have to go back to our original arrangement.”

Like hell. Anger kicked around inside him as hard as her words in his brain, her insistence that she didn’t want to be involved with the Medina mess. “Do you think backing off will erase what happened last night and again today? Will you be able to forget? Because I damn well can’t.”

He could see those same memories scrolling across her mind.

Her gaze locked on him as firmly as his stayed on her. Moonlight played with hints of the caramel-colored highlights in her brown hair, glinted off the deepening blue of her eyes. He wanted her so much he went rock hard in a flash.

His life would be so much simpler without this attraction.

“Duarte, I haven’t forgotten a second,” she whispered.

Heat flared in her eyes as hot as the fire licking through his veins and he knew he wouldn’t trade a second of the connection with Kate. He knew she couldn’t ignore this any more than he could. Duarte started across the room just as Kate joined him, mouths meeting, passion exploding.

They fell back onto the canopy bed.