His Thirty-Day Fiancee (14 page)

Unease whispered over her like the night wind blowing in off the ocean. He’d said a relationship with him was a risk and she was just beginning to realize how much she had to lose—a chance with Duarte, a chance at his heart.

So much had changed so fast for both of them. If he was every bit as confused and stunned by the feelings erupting between them, perhaps the best answer would be a careful approach.

“Duarte,” she whispered against his mouth, “how about we take it one day at a time until Tony and Shannon’s wedding?”

Shadows drifted through his eyes like a stark Ansel Adams landscape playing out across Duarte’s face. Then he smiled, cupping her head to draw her mouth to his.

The breeze blew over her again, chilling her through as she thought of how he’d opened up to her, and wondering if in her fear she’d fallen short in giving him her trust.

Working his kinked neck from side to side, Duarte cradled his post-meal brandy in the music room. Well, it was more of a ballroom actually, with wooden floors stretching across and a coffered ceiling that added texture as well as sound control. Crystal chandeliers and sconces glowed.

And the gang was all here, except for Carlos, of course. But their numbers had grown all the same.

Shannon played the piano, her son seated beside her with his feet swinging. Tony leaned against the Steinway Grand, eyes locked on his fiancée. His brother was one hundred percent a goner.

Sweet Jennifer sat cross-legged on the floor by the mammoth gold harp, petting Benito and Diablo, blessedly oblivious that she played with trained guard dogs while armed security flanked the door. What the hell had he brought Kate and her sister into?

Enrique reclined in a tapestry wingback chair, his feet on an ottoman. The bottle of oxygen tucked by a stained glass window reminded Duarte how very ill their father still was. Kate sat in the chair beside him, her foot tapping in time with the “Ragtime Waltz” that Shannon whipped through on the ivory keyboard.

Kate.

His eyes lingered on her. Her basic little black dress looked anything but basic on her curves he knew so intimately well. His gaze skated down her legs to her sky-high heels. If only they could stay in bed, this attempt at a relationship would be a piece of cake.

It had been tougher than he’d expected spilling his guts for her last night in the hammock, but that’s what women wanted. Right? Yet somehow he’d missed the mark because still she held something back.

The last ragtime note faded, and Duarte joined in the applause.

Tony retrieved his drink from beside the music. “Hey, Kate, maybe you can persuade Duarte to play for us.”

She turned toward him, surprise stamped on her face. “You play the piano?”

“Not well.” Duarte lifted his drink in mocking toast to his brother. “Thanks, Tony. I won’t be forgetting that. Keep it up and I’ll tell them about your harp lessons.”

Laughing lightly, Tony returned the air toast. Carlos was the only one of them to catch on during music class. Tony had never been able to sit still long enough to practice. The teacher had told Duarte he played like a robot.

Great. Tally another vote for his inability to make an emotional commitment—even to a piece of music.

Enrique angled toward Kate. “Duarte might not have been the best musician, but my goal was simply to give my sons a taste of the arts so they received a well-rounded education. We may have been isolated, but I made sure they had top-notch tutors.”

“Hmm.” Kate nodded. “I don’t see you as the sort of person who sits back and turns over control. So tell me, what did you teach them?”

“You are a good reporter.”

“That’s gracious of you to say.” She winked at Enrique, as at ease with him as if she spoke with the mailman. “Considering who I work for.”

“I taught my sons art history.” Enrique continued on about his favorite Spanish masters.

Duarte swirled brandy in the snifter. Kate’s jab at the
Intruder
surprised him. But then he’d seen her scruples show in the photos she chose. Would she have taken a job she didn’t like just for Jennifer?

Of course she would.

His determination to win her over multiplied. He still had ten days left. His mind churned with plans to romance her between now and the wedding. Time to fly her to the Museum of Contemporary Photography in Chicago, to live out the pretend courtship they’d concocted.

She might not have understood that he was reaching out last night. But he could tap every last resource in the coming days up to the wedding to ensure she stayed.

His will strengthened, Duarte looked forward to his first step—a surprise trip this weekend to woo her with art in the museum she’d never visited. He savored the vision of another plane ride with her until—

Tony waved for everyone’s attention. He hefted Kolby up and slid his other arm around Shannon’s waist. “We have an announcement to make. Since our family is here, why not proceed with the wedding? Or rather we will as soon as Carlos arrives in the morning.”

Enrique’s pocket watch slipped from his hand. Duarte lunged and scooped it up just shy of the floor.

“We don’t want to wait until the end of the month,” Tony said, his eyes zipping to their father just long enough for Duarte to catch his fear that any delay could be too late for Enrique. “We want to get married this weekend.”

Duarte’s brandy turned bitter in his mouth. They’d moved the wedding up, cutting short everything he needed to do to ensure Kate remained his forever. He only had her promise of cooperation until Tony and Shannon tied the knot. And after the wedding, Kate would have no reason to stay.

She’d asked for a day at a time. And his time with Kate had just been cut abruptly short.

Until now.

Once the embracing couple finished their kiss, they faced the select crowd, their happiness glowing as tangibly as the candlelight from their nighttime service. As Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” swelled from the pipe organ, Tony swept up the little ring bearer. Kolby hooked his arms around his new father’s neck with complete trust and the happy family started down the aisle, wedding party trailing them.

The Medina princess Eloisa served as maid of honor in an emerald empire-waist gown. Her bouquet of evergreens and pink tropical flowers from the island was clasped over the barely visible bump of her newly announced pregnancy. As she passed her husband seated by the king on the front pew, she smiled with unabashed love.

Duarte followed, leanly intense and breathtakingly handsome in his tuxedo. She never in a million years would have sought out a mega-rich prince, yet the more she learned about Duarte the man, the more she wanted to be with him. To hell with day-by-day. She wanted to extend this beyond their deadline. She wanted to take that risk.

And then Duarte moved past her, followed by Carlos—the brother she hadn’t met yet—ending the bridal party. Kate lowered her Canon. Carlos’s steps were painstakingly slow as he limped down the aisle. He clearly could have used a cane. Something about the proud tilt of his chin told her that he’d opted to stand up for his brother on his own steam.

This wounded family was breaking her heart.

She brought her camera back to her face and kept it there all the way outside into the moonlit night. A flamenco guitarist played beneath the palm trees strung with tiny white lights.

Sweeping the crowd with her lens, she snapped photos randomly for the album she planned to give to Tony and Shannon. She would upload the images and burn a disc for the couple, presenting her gift at the reception in case she didn’t see the newlyweds again.

Although maybe, just maybe… A wary thread of hope, of excitement whispered through her.

She adjusted her focus on Jennifer, her sister’s face animated as she took in the lights twinkling overhead in the trees. Love for her sister filled her. Jennifer wasn’t a burden, but protecting her innocence was a responsibility Kate didn’t take lightly.

A wide smile creased Jennifer’s cheeks and she waved enthusiastically until Duarte stepped into the picture.

“Yes, Jennifer?” His voice carried on the ocean wind. “What can I do for you?”

“I don’t need anything,” Jennifer answered. “You do lots for everybody. I wanted to do something for you.”

Jennifer extended her fist. Duarte’s face creased with confusion.

“This is for you,” Jennifer continued, dropping into his hand a beaded string of braided gold thread with a metal ring at one end, “since you’re going to be my brother soon. I didn’t think you would like a bracelet or a necklace like I make for Katie. But you drive a car, so I made you a key chain. Kolby’s nanny got me the supplies. Do you like it?”

He held it up, ring dangling from his finger as he made a big show of admiring it. “It’s very nice, Jennifer. Thank you. I will think of you whenever I use it.”

“You’re welcome, Artie—uh, I mean—”

“You can call me Artie,” he said solemnly. “But only you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her smile lit her eyes as she rose up on her toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek before she raced across the sand toward the bridal party.

More than a little choked up, Kate swung the lens back to Duarte just as he pulled his keys from his pocket. Her breath hitched in her chest… He couldn’t actually be planning to actually use it…

But, oh, my God, he attached the beaded gold braid alongside keys to his high-end cars and an island mansion. Thoughts winged back to that first night in Martha’s Vineyard when they’d made up their mythical first date, complete with a vintage Jaguar and
cat
viar.

Her hands fell to her side, camera dangling from her clenched fist. Tears burned her eyes as she fell totally, irrevocably in love with Duarte Medina.

And she couldn’t wait to tell him once they were alone together tonight.

Kate arched on her toes to whisper in Duarte’s ear. “I’m going upstairs to change. Join me soon? I have a special night planned that involves you, me and a tub full of bubbles.”

“I’ll be there before the bath fills.”

The glint in his eyes spurred her to finish up her last bit of business all the faster.

In her room, she sat in front of the computer to dispense with this last obligation to Harold. Duarte had even given her the thumbs-up to select the wedding photos on her own. He trusted her…

Her computer fired up to the homepage and she logged on to the internet, eager to be done with this as quickly as possible so she could freshen up in a bubble bath and dig through the drawers of lingerie for just the right pieces. The news headlines popped onto the screen with thumbnail images. She frowned, looking closer in disbelief. Déjà vu hit her as she stared at the strangely familiar images.

Pictures of Tony and Shannon’s wedding.

The same photos she’d loaded to make the disc, but hadn’t yet sent to Harold.

Not just any photos, but
her
work all stored on this computer.

Confusion built as she clicked on article after article from different news outlets, all with photos she’d just taken tonight. How could this be? She flattened her hands to the computer that both Duarte and Javier had assured her only she and Duarte could access.

Had Javier turned on the family like his cousin? She quickly dismissed that possibility. Before she’d made that fateful trip to Martha’s Vineyard, the
Intruder
had tried more than once to get the inside scoop from everyone in Duarte’s employ. No luck there. Javier had stayed loyal. Which only left Duarte, and he’d made it clear from the start that he sought revenge for what she’d done to his family with her photo exposé.

Her heart shattering, she felt like such a fool. Duarte had wanted retribution and he had succeeded. He’d maintained total control of how his family appeared in the press. And he’d ensured she didn’t profit a dime off her efforts.

She’d been so close to admitting she’d fallen in love with him. But she would be damned before she let him know just how deeply he’d wounded her.