“Thank you.” He moved his attention to Pilar. He bowed her way, straightened, shot her a smile and exited.
She sighed. He’d caught her so off guard that had she been on a true battlefield, she’d be severely wounded or dead. First blood. Noah Yates.
Senor Garcia looked to the hallway Yates disappeared into and then back to her. “You like to sail?” He eyed her as if she were something he’d never seen before.
“Yes.”
“And your uncle sails with you?”
“No.”
“Then with whom do you go?”
“Friends. Sometimes alone. My grandfather taught me.”
“You let her sail alone, senora?”
“I do. She’s very knowledgeable about the sea and boats.”
Pilar asked him, “Do you sail, Senor Garcia?”
“I’m a tailor. What reason would I have to be on a boat? My wife won’t have any reason to be on one either. Especially unaccompanied.”
Pilar kept her smile in place as she turned to her mother. “I’d like to put these in water, Mama. May I be excused?”
Her mother stood. “I think that would be wise. Thank you for your visit, Senor Garcia.”
He appeared taken aback by the sudden dismissal. “You’re—welcome.”
“Let me see you out,” her mother offered encouragingly.
He bowed stiffly to Pilar. “Good-bye, senorita.”
“Good-bye, Senor Garcia.”
Picking up the hat beside him, he followed her mother’s lead, and once they were out of sight, Pilar exhaled an audible sigh of relief.
“Seemed like a nice fellow,” Yates said, magically appearing again. “We’ve both probably caught fish larger than he is. Mustache was very formidable though.”
She swore she’d swallow a fish hook if she laughed. “Go away.”
“Do you think people mistakenly step on him in the dark? He’d be in real danger at my family’s ranch. My brothers and I are fairly tall.”
Pilar wanted to run him through with her sword even though she was grateful that his entrance helped set in motion Senor Garcia’s departure.
The intensity in Yates’s eyes as he gazed down at her suspended time. His voice softened. “Do you like the roses?”
She glanced at their beauty in her arms and couldn’t lie. “Yes.”
“Doneta said no one has ever given you roses before—or flowers of any kind, for that matter. I’m enjoying being your first.”
Her senses took flight again because she knew he was talking about more than flowers. “I—I need to find a vase.” Why he had the ability to make her stammer when she’d never stammered before—ever—was beyond her ken. She wondered if her mother would mind if she killed her sister.
“You find your vase. I’ll see you at dinner.” And he took his leave.
One of the servants found her a vase and offered to arrange the roses for her, but Pilar declined. Even though she knew nothing about doing the task properly, for some reason she wanted to try. Taking both the flowers and the vase up to her bedroom she sat on the floor with them beside her.
Doneta came in. “See, I was right. The novio brings flowers.”
Pilar rolled her eyes. “Why are you helping him?”
“Because my, I’ve—never—read—a—love novel—sister, that is my role.”
Pilar stared.
“The younger sister is always on the hero’s side.”
Pilar shook her head.
“Besides, I’m hoping he has brothers.”
“He does. Two. Both married.”
“Oh,” she replied dejectedly.
Doneta watched Pilar trying to put the roses in the vase in a fashionable order. “You first need to cut some of the stems so you have a few shorter ones. Then place them in front of the taller ones.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m a painter and that’s how you do it in a painting. Tall blooms in the back. Short in the front.” Doneta found a pair of scissors. “Here.”
Following her sister’s instructions, Pilar ended up with a beautifully arranged vase of roses.
Doneta said, “You have to admit, they are lovely.”
“True, but you are not to tell Yates anything else about me. Nothing.”
“Pilar. I’m helping you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am, because you need it. If this were left up to you that gorgeous man would walk away from here and wind up being some other girl’s brother-in-law, and I’m not going to allow that to happen. Besides, he loves you.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
Doneta sighed. “Fine. Be dense. When you love him so much you want to eat his shoes, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“What!”
“I’ve nothing else to say.”
“Eat his shoes? Women eat men’s shoes in those silly books you read?”
“It’s just an expression, Pilar.”
“Said by whom?”
“Never mind.”
“You’re making me concerned about you, ’Neta.”
“You just mind your pole and don’t let this big fish get away.”
Pilar sighed and shook her head. First eating shoes and now, allusions to fishing poles. Noah Yates had driven her sister insane.
Noah was enjoying dinner with Miguel Ventura and the Banderas women if only for the opportunity to view Pilar at his leisure. She was wearing the same blue day gown she’d had on earlier. It was plain, high necked, and had long sleeves. The line of buttons up the front, in tandem with the bodice’s snug cut, emphasized her curves. There were simple hoops in her ears. She possessed a natural beauty that didn’t require a lot of adornment, so their sedateness was just the right touch.
Miguel was the only member of his immediate family present. He explained that his wife and daughters had left early that morning to visit her sister in Yorba City. Although Noah found the daughters pleasant enough, he didn’t miss Simona or her judgmental attitudes in the least.
He was seated directly across the table from Pilar, who was doing her best to ignore him but he didn’t mind. Each time she did send him a furtive glance, his eyes were waiting and hers would go chasing away. Again, he wanted to carry her off and be done with this courting-ritual nonsense. He could already imagine her soft lips opening under his own and what her nearness would do to him when he finally got the opportunity to slide his hands slowly over the curve of her hips and feel her nipples berry against his palm. Were she able to read his thoughts, she’d undoubtedly grab her sword and behead him there and then.
Senora Banderas asked her brother, “How long will Simona be away?”
He sipped his wine. “She said she won’t be returning until you and your daughters have moved into a place of your own.”
“Then we shall try and conclude the arrangements as quickly as possible.”
“Take your time.”
Everyone fought their smile.
“Where is the property you’re considering purchasing, senora?” Noah asked.
“Here in the Keys. Most of my countrymen are here.”
“Many Cubans have also settled in Yorba City,” Miguel added. “But I’d prefer to have my sister and her daughters near me whether Simona agrees with that arrangement or not.”
Because Noah had already staked his claim, Miguel would be doing without Pilar’s company. “Senora, may I have your permission to tour the gardens with Pilar after we’re done here?”
Pilar glanced up. She didn’t appear pleased by the request, but he’d expected that and was looking forward to their sparring.
“I’m sure that will be fine, Mr. Yates. Are you agreeable, Pilar?”
She shrugged. “Why not.”
“You will conduct yourself as a gentleman?” her mother asked him pointedly.
“Always.”
Pilar’s tiny eye roll made him smile inwardly.
So after dinner, they went walking. At the outset, she refused to
take his arm. “I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman who’s been to war, not a simpering girl needing a man’s arm to keep from falling down.”
“Understood,” he replied with light amusement. “Is there anything you might need a man for at your advanced age?”
That earned him a look of disapproval. “Not as far as I know.”
“Such innocence.”
“Meaning?”
“When we marry, I’ll explain.”
“Ah, the kissing and the marriage bed, correct? I doubt either will leave me weak-kneed.”
They came upon a bench set within a stand of fragrant jasmine as beautiful as he thought her to be. “Shall we sit?”
“If you insist,” she said disinterestedly.
He couldn’t wait to give that sassy mouth something to do, but that also would come in time. “So, did you enjoy your visit with Senor Shorty?”
“His name is Luis Garcia.”
“My apology, but I prefer my name. More apropos, I think. You couldn’t possibly be interested in being his wife?”
“I’m not interested in being your wife either, but I’m entertaining it.”
“Touché, mi pequeño pirata,” he replied, mixing the French with the Spanish.
“And I do wish you wouldn’t address me that way.”
He was having such a good time with her. “Because . . .?”
“Because the way you say it, it sounds like . . .” Her words trailed off and she looked away.
He gently turned her face back to him and stared down into her flashing brown eyes. “Like an endearment?”
She nodded.
“Suppose I told you it was.” He found the curve of her lips mesmerizing. “Do you really think you’re immune to a man’s kisses?”
She backed out of his light hold on her chin. “If you suggested this walk so you could kiss me, please do so, so I can return to the house.”
He steepled his fingers and studied her silently. What a little hornet she was. Her response proved she had no idea he could remove her stinger in ways that would not only leave her weak-kneed but craving more as well.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Why the hesitation? Are you going to kiss me or not?”
“I think not.”
She blinked with surprise. “May I ask your reason?”
The feather-light line he drew down her cheek made her eyes slowly slide shut. The tender tremble of her skin in response to his touch was highly arousing. “You aren’t ready, but then again, I could be wrong.”
“Being kissed is not going to make me . . .”
His lips gently met hers and the contact made her immediately soften. “Oh my,” he heard her sigh.
Under his coaxing invitation, her mouth opened and he teased the ripeness with tiny movements of his tongue. She purred and he husked out, “This is what a man is for.” He wanted to drag her onto his lap and savor the warm pressure of her weight against him but that too would come in time. Instead, he contented himself with kisses: teaching her, tasting her, and silently letting her know that he wasn’t immune to her either. Leaving her parted lips for a moment, he traveled down to fleetingly sample the thin band of bare skin above her collar, and when he flicked his tongue against it, she whimpered with pleasure. Moving his lips to her ear, he breathed, “You were saying, chiquita?”
She responded by bringing her hand up and pulling him closer. He thrilled at that and his manhood awakened. She was the loveliest, sweetest thing he had had in his arms in recent memory and all he wanted to do was show her the full measure of what desire meant. And then, as if she’d suddenly realized just how responsive she’d become, she stiffened. Her eyes popped open and she looked appalled. He watched with silent amusement.
She jumped to her feet. “I—I have to go.”
He nodded but kept his laugh to himself.
She stammered, “Good—good-bye.”
“Good-bye, Pilar.”
She all but ran back in the direction they’d come.
Rattled and outdone, Pilar stood in her bedroom with her back against the closed door and tried to slow her racing heart. How in the world had she lived twenty-five years and not known the power a man’s kisses could wield? The instant his lips met hers she’d melted into the stone bench as if she’d been rendered boneless. This is what a man is for . . . Hearing that, she’d wanted to throw back a tart, clever rejoinder, but what he was doing to her mouth with his, and to the corners of her lips with the fiery tip of his tongue, left her with the brain of a crustacean. There were no weapons in her bow for this. He’d set her adrift, rudderless, no sails. When his hot lips moved to the trembling skin beneath her jaw, her hand had suddenly grown a mind of its own and drawn him closer. A part of her had found the heat of him against her glorious; his teasing tongue divine, until a voice in her mind woke up and screamed: What are you doing! That’s when she knew she had to flee. She drew a still trembling hand over her face. Whatever was she going to do!
Only then did she see her sister across the room seated in front of her easel, brush in hand.
Doneta scanned her for a silent moment before asking “He kissed you, didn’t he?”
“No.”
“You’re lying. From the looks of you, you were either kissed or struck by lightning.”
“Hush!”
Doneta smiled knowingly and resumed painting. “Do you wish to talk about it?”
“I’m not speaking to you.”
“Suit yourself, but you’re doomed now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Once the young lady is kissed—all she wants is more of the same.”
Pilar moved away from the door and walked to her own bed and sat down. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Were I you, I’d end the courtship and go straight to the wedding.”
“But you’re not me.”
“No, I’m not. But if I were, I’d know that hoping for a miracle to make this all go away will not be forthcoming. You’re being pursued by a man so delicious he makes most sane women’s teeth ache the moment he walks into a room. Just surrender and find some happiness.”
Pilar fell back on the bed and cried out in frustration, “But I don’t want to marry him.”
“That’s the rebel gun smuggler speaking. What’s the woman in you saying?”
Pilar refused to explore the opinion of the newly awakened part of herself because she wanted her to go away and never be heard from again. She also refused to admit that her sister knew way more about this madness than she’d ever imagined.
“Your answer?”
“I’m not speaking to you, remember.”
Doneta put brush to canvas. “That’s right. I forgot, but when you’re ready to talk about what a great kisser he is, let me know.” She smoothly ducked the shoe Pilar aimed at her head.
Chapter 11
The following morning, Noah sipped coffee while standing out on the verandah of his rented room and watched the sunrise. All he could think about was Pilar. He chuckled at the memory of her face just before she took off running and shook his head at her efforts to deny what he already knew. She was a passionate woman—not only in life but in his arms as well and he couldn’t wait to show her just how much. Oddly enough, he’d slept the entire night. Usually a few hours was all his body seemed to want, which he took as its way of avoiding the nightmares. They hadn’t plagued him recently, but he knew they were there, looming, waiting to pounce and feed on the pain and horror that continued to lurk inside. However, as he’d noted before, being around his little pirate seemed to be an antidote to the island’s lingering poison. He had no idea how long it might hold, but he would enjoy her and his life for as long as it lasted.
Still musing on her, he wondered if she’d awakened yet or was still asleep. The idea of waking up beside her at some point in the near future was pleasing to contemplate. Did she snore? Would she hog the bedding wh
ile they slept? Would she enjoy making love in the early-morning hours as the first light of dawn streamed through their bedroom windows? All questions he had no answers for, but he looked forward to having them resolved.
In the meantime, he’d be spending the day touring Miguel’s warehouse with an eye to learning how the operation could be expanded so they could increase their profits. He’d spent yesterday touring boatyards with the hope of finding a vessel to replace the Alanza but what he’d seen had been either too old, too small, or too large. The ship once named for his mother had been perfect in every way and coming across one with similar attributes was going to take a lot longer than he’d initially imagined. He planned to be patient, however, even though it was not one of his virtues.
And because he struggled with patience, he was chafing at the idea of prolonging this courtship. Yesterday’s kisses among the jasmine made him crave more; much more. He wondered how Miguel and Desa Banderas would react if he proposed ending it and moving on to the wedding. He could already imagine Pilar’s. She’d have to be dragged kicking and screaming to stand before a priest, and getting her to willingly repeat the vows would be about as easy as teaching a dolphin to build a fence. Ideally, his family would be in attendance. Watching him marry no matter the circumstances would ease all the worry they’d been harboring about him these past ten years—especially his mother—but that was probably impossible, so he put it out of his mind. But Pilar stayed with him. He planned to see her later, and so to precipitate that he finished his coffee and stepped back inside to finish dressing so he could meet Miguel at the warehouse.
The tour Miguel gave him took up most of the morning. They visited the rooms where the leaves of tobacco were stored for curing and he watched with awe as workers expertly hand rolled the leaves into the cigars he’d come to enjoy. After he and Miguel talked logistics, they paused for coffee and sat outside to enjoy the nice day.
“I want to thank you for requesting the hand of my niece.”
“You’re welcome. I’m enjoying the challenge.”
“I worry that were it not for you she’d be a burden to her mother for the rest of her life.”