Someone Like You (Night Riders) (25 page)

She had no trouble interpreting his expression this time. She heard his laugh, deep and slow. She felt his arm tighten around her. She could feel the heat of his body as he drew her closer.

“Your smiles reach beyond your lips and change your whole appearance. They’re never the same. Sometimes your eyes dance with merriment or become warm with emotion. At other times, they open wide in question or crinkle in agreement. I can’t stop wanting to make you smile, to find out what it will look like,
feel
like, this time.”

Once more Rafe had robbed her of the power of speech. Soon he would realize she was a very ordinary woman who
was unlikely to hold the interest of such a complex man for more than a short time.

Rafe brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “You’re very quiet.”

His touch caused her to tremble so it took a moment before she could speak. “I can’t think of anything to say.”

A slow smile transformed Rafe’s face. “We’re making progress.”

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She didn’t want him to be wrong, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe he was right.

He pulled her closer. “Maybe this will help to convince you.”

She could feel the kiss before their lips met. It was in his eyes, in his touch, in the press of his body against her own. The joining of their lips was merely the culmination of the attraction that brought them together. She told herself she shouldn’t yield to his embrace, that their attraction wouldn’t last.

Throwing caution to the winds, Maria allowed herself to melt into Rafe’s arms. She exalted in the feel of his arms tightening around her, pressing her firmly against the solid strength of his chest. She was surprised to find she felt small and helpless in a way that made her feel cherished, cared for, protected. She also felt desired. She could feel it in the heat streaming from his body into hers, the power of his embrace, in the hunger of his kiss, in the rapid swelling of his body where it pressed against her thigh. The intensity of his reaction frightened her as it thrilled her. How could she possibly live up to such an overwhelming emotion? How could she survive without it?

She focused on the feel of Rafe’s arms around her, on the taste of his firm mouth, the sensation of his soft lips. His embrace comforted her at the same time it reached out to a need deep within her, a need she’d ignored for so long that
she’d convinced herself it didn’t exist. It rose inside her with the force of a powerful beast awakened from a long sleep. Her arms circled around Rafe’s neck, pulling him deeper into their kiss, deeper into—

“Thank God I found you. You’ve got to come back to the hotel immediately. Luis is sick.”

Chapter Eighteen
 

W
hat’s wrong with him?” Maria asked Broc as she and Rafe followed in his wake. She struggled to rein in her emotions enough to think of Luis. She could deal with the mortification of Broc finding her locked in Rafe’s embrace later.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious,” Broc said, “but he threw up his dinner. I put him back to bed, but he wants you and Rafe.”

“Does he have a fever? Chills? Spots?” Luis had always been such a healthy boy she had virtually no experience with childhood illnesses.

“None of that,” Broc assured her. “I think he just ate too much rich food too fast. He should be fine by morning.”

She hoped Broc was right. Luis would be devastated if he had to stay in bed for the whole festival.

“Who’s with him now?” Rafe asked.

“I asked one of the hotel maids to sit with him until I got back.” Broc grinned. “She’s young and cute enough that I don’t think Luis minded being sick.”

Maria was willing to let Luis grow up, but she wasn’t ready for him to become interested in girls.

The walk back to the hotel seemed to take much longer than the walk to the park. Bigger crowds clogged the streets and were slower to move aside. Groups of merrymakers invited them to join in the festivities, offered them food and drink. One wandering musician tried to sing a song to her. At no time was she oblivious to the envious glances from women, young and old, who smiled invitingly at Rafe and Broc.

She chastised herself for such petty thoughts when Luis was lying sick in a strange room without any of his family nearby. By the time she reached the hotel, she could barely restrain herself from running up the stairs. She burst into her room only to find Luis’s bed empty.

She rounded on Broc. “Where is he? You said one of the maids was sitting with him.”

“She was when I left.”

Despite her panic, she was able to see that Broc was as confused as she was.

“I expect there’s a reasonable explanation for Luis not being here,” Rafe said. “We just have to discover what it is.”

Maria rounded on him, relieved to have somewhere to focus her anger. “How are we going to do that when there’s no one here to ask?”

The appearance of a clearly distressed young woman spared Rafe the need to respond.

“What happened to the boy?” Broc asked the maid. “You promised not to leave him until I got back.”

“His mother took him.” The girl wrung her hands. “When she found he had been sick, she insisted nobody was going to care for him but her. The boy didn’t want to go, but she called one of the men and had the child carried to her room. She said she wouldn’t sleep a wink unless she was at his side.”

Maria tried to reassure the young woman. “You did the best you could.”

Rafe was already out of the room and headed toward the stairs.

“Rafe, wait.”

He didn’t slow down. She could only guess how he felt about Dolores taking Luis to her suite with Laveau present.

“Rafe’s not going to wait for either of us,” Broc said. “Let’s hope we get there before he breaks her neck.”

Holding her skirts high, Maria climbed the stairs as swiftly as she could. By the time she reached the upper hallway,
she could hear Dolores’s raised voice coming through an open doorway.

“You can’t take him away, Rafe. He’s sick.”

Silence.

“He’s
my
son, not yours. Stop him, Laveau. Don’t let him take my son.”

“Luis is his brother. It is his right to take care of him.”

Maria reached the room in time to see Rafe, with a relieved-looking Luis in his arms, heading toward the doorway. Dolores pulled at his arm to stop him, but he shook her off effortlessly. Laveau stood to one side, watching with a detachment Maria found puzzling. Dolores turned to her sister when Maria appeared in the doorway.

“Tell Rafe it is a mother’s right to care for her child when he’s sick.”

Maria didn’t bother to remind Dolores that she had never cared for Luis when he was sick. Most of the time Dolores was unaware he wasn’t feeling well, and wouldn’t have known what to do in any case.

“He doesn’t look dangerously ill. Broc thinks he just ate too much rich food too quickly.” As far as Maria could tell, Luis’s primary feeling seemed to be relief. He was a little flushed, but that was more likely the result of a stranger plucking him from his bed and carrying him to the suite of a man who clearly didn’t want him there.

“What does Broc know about sick children?” Dolores demanded. “He’s a man.”

“He had eight younger brothers and sisters.”

“I’m Luis’s mother,” Dolores reminded them. “I gave birth to him.”

Maria had spent the last nine years making excuses for Dolores’s faults, but she could no longer refuse to face the truth. Dolores didn’t care that what she did hurt others or made them suffer. “I know you’re his mother, but I’m the one who’s always taken care of him. That’s why you invited me to live with you.”

“I invited you to live with me because I love you and didn’t want you to have to live with our sister and her husband. I didn’t want you to become a peasant like Mother.”

“Tomás isn’t wealthy, but he isn’t a peasant. Mother was very happy to make her home with them.”

“I can’t believe my own mother could fall so far.” Dolores shuddered theatrically. “She has the blood of Spanish nobles in her veins. She was the chatelaine of an enormous hacienda with dozens of servants to do her bidding. During festival she gave parties for hundreds of people.”

Maria tried not to dwell on memories of the rambling house with its cool, dark rooms decorated in a heavy Spanish style, her soft-spoken mother, or her imperious father. Nor did she tease herself with any longing for the days when she had had nothing to occupy her mind but clothes and parties.

Dolores had gotten so carried away with complaints about her mother and sister’s fall from grace that she didn’t appear to notice Rafe and Broc had disappeared with Luis.

“Not everyone has your exquisite sensitivity,” Laveau said to Dolores.

“Not everyone can afford it,” Maria snapped, out of patience with her sister’s theatrics and Laveau’s insincerity. She was sorry if her words hurt Dolores, but her sister needed a good dose of truth. “Now I have to go see Luis. Though I’m certain he’s perfectly safe in Rafe and Broc’s care, he’s used to depending on me when he’s not feeling well.”

“How can you let Rafe keep me from my own son when he needs me?” Dolores wailed, piteously.

“I’m sure it’s hard on you, my sweet,” Laveau said, “but I think the boy is better off with Maria. Though I hesitate to mention such a mundane consideration, we don’t have a bed for him.”

“He’s only a child,” Dolores said. “He could have been comfortable on the couch.”

Maria wasn’t as bothered by Laveau’s disclosure as much
as she was upset that it didn’t cause Dolores to blink, not even to pause, at a statement that made it clear she had entered into a sexual relationship with Laveau for the sake of the material comforts he could provide.

“I’m sure he’ll be more comfortable in his own bed,” Laveau said. “You can see him first thing in the morning.”

Dolores never rose early. It would probably be noon before she left her room. “I’ll send you a message when Luis wakes up,” Maria promised.

Making her escape before Dolores could think of some other complaint, Maria found herself wondering how she’d managed to avoid facing the truth all these years. She hadn’t wanted to admit that her sister was such a selfish person, but Rafe’s arrival had forced her to stop pretending. That left her in an awkward position.

She realized she disliked her sister.

The realization made her feel guilty all over again. Whatever Dolores’s faults, she had invited Maria to share her home. Now Maria was siding with Rafe against Dolores for Luis’s sake.

Luis was sitting up in his bed, laughing at something Rafe had said, when she reached her room. The boy turned solemn when he saw her.

“I’m sorry I got sick.”

She couldn’t get over how much he’d changed in the last several days. Before Rafe’s arrival, he’d never thought of how his being sick might affect her. He glanced at Rafe. “Rafe says he’s going to make sure I don’t have anything but bread and water before the race tomorrow.”

Maria had assumed riding in the race the next day was out of the question, but apparently Rafe didn’t think so. Now neither did Luis, because anything Rafe said was like a pronouncement from on high. She could understand why a little boy would be in awe of an older brother like Rafe, but she was the one who had loved Luis his whole life, taken care of him every day, had sat by his bedside whenever he’d
been sick, shielded him from his mother’s shortcomings, and had tried to compensate for his father’s indifference. She felt like an old toy that had been shoved aside for a shiny new one.

In her mind she knew she hadn’t been shoved aside, that Luis had just made room in his life for an extra person, but it still felt like rejection and she didn’t like it. However, she did recognize that Rafe was the best thing to happen to Luis in years. “I don’t know about the bread and water, but I think we ought to wait until we see how you feel tomorrow before we decide whether you can ride in the race.”

His mouth falling in dismay, Luis looked from Rafe to Maria. “Rafe said he was sure I’d feel fine in the morning.”

“I’m not a doctor,” Rafe told the boy. “I could be wrong.”

“But Broc says the same thing,” Luis pointed out.

“And I agree with both of them,” Maria said, “but we still have to wait until tomorrow to see how you feel.”

It was clear Luis thought her pronouncement was practically the same as being told he couldn’t ride in the race.

“The best way to make sure you can ride tomorrow is to get plenty of sleep,” Rafe told Luis. “Broc and I will go away and let Maria tuck you in.”

“I want you to do it.”

Maria thought she could sense a slight tensing in Rafe’s shoulders. “Why don’t all three of us do it? Then you’ll be so tightly tucked in you won’t be able to move.”

Luis broke into a smile, and Maria felt a pang for what these two brothers had lost by being separated. Rafe was the bigger-than-life brother who’d transformed Luis into a smiling, active boy Maria had never known was there. Luis was the admiring little brother who could banish the black moods that descended on Rafe from time to time.

“Hop into bed,” Broc said to Luis. “You’re about to be tied up in a sheet.”

Maria did her part in the fun that followed.

“Do you think that’s tight enough?” Broc asked her with a wink.

The sheet was so tight across Luis, she could have bounced a coin off it.

“I don’t know,” Rafe said. “It looks a little loose to me. Maybe we ought to tuck it in at the top of the bed, too.”

“I won’t be able to breathe,” Luis protested between laughs.

“He needs to breathe,” Broc pointed out.

They joked a bit more until Maria was afraid Luis would be so worked up he’d never get to sleep. “We’re going to leave now,” she told Luis. “Remember, you need a good night’s sleep if you’re going to ride tomorrow.”

Luis grinned up at Rafe. “I can’t move, so I guess I’ll have to sleep.” Maria, Rafe, and Broc said good night and trooped out.

“Are you sure he’ll be okay to ride tomorrow?” she asked Rafe as soon as she closed the door to her room.

“Ask Broc. He’s the one with all the brothers and sisters.”

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