“All right, then answer me this.” She took a breath, blew it out, and asked, “Why haven’t you been with any of those women?”
He laughed shortly. “Because unlike you, I knew I was still married.”
She flushed and the soft color filling her cheeks made her look even lovelier, though he wouldn’t have thought that possible.
“And you?” he countered. “What kept you from other men?”
She was silent for several long, tense seconds before she said, “You’re the only man I wanted.”
Heat spilled through him instantly. He realized that he wanted to believe her. He wanted to think that she had missed him as desperately as he had missed her for the last five years. But if she felt so strongly about him, how could she disappear from his life? How could she have lied to him about who she was? And how could she have stayed away for so long?
She leaned her head against his chest and he knew she could hear his heartbeat slamming against his ribs. Since she’d arrived on Tesoro, Teresa had tried to explain her past actions to him and he hadn’t been interested in listening. Now, though, he wanted to know. Needed to hear her explanation, whatever it was. And yet he had to wonder if he would be able to believe her.
His mind was a rushing torrent of contradictory thoughts. His blood burned in his veins. His body was hard and ready to take her again.
What this woman could do to him was dangerous.
What he had just done to her, he reminded himself, was unforgivable. Even if they were both healthy, he thought, no condom meant there was a chance at an unexpected pregnancy. And they had to talk about the possibilities.
“Teresa,” he said softly, turning her face up to his. “I must know. Are you taking birth control?”
“No.” She shook her head, then laid her hand over his, holding his hand to her breast. “I’m not. But don’t worry, Rico. Everything will be fine. What are the odds I could be pregnant from one time?”
It depended on whether or not the gods had a sense of humor, he supposed. He remembered how not too long ago he’d actually imagined Teresa pregnant with his child. Now, through his own stupidity, there was a chance that would happen.
“I was never much of a gambler, because the odds are usually against you.” He shook his head, still having a hard time believing that he had put them in this position. “I must apologize to you. For losing control of myself.”
“Don’t,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Don’t you dare apologize. I wanted this. I wanted you. I’m glad you lost control, Rico, and if I am pregnant…we’ll deal with the situation if it presents itself.”
Deal with it.
He didn’t know exactly what she meant by that, but he knew very well what would happen if she was pregnant with his child. They would stay married. The divorce he’d promised her would never happen.
And that would mean he would have to find a way to live with the still-rich memories of her betrayal. His chest tightened as if iron bands were wrapped around his body, squeezing mercilessly.
How could he spend his life with a woman he couldn’t trust? Would he ask himself every day if today was the day she would bolt?
Shaking his head, he wrapped his arms around his wife and wondered if passion would be enough to save a marriage born in deception.
* * *
A few days later Teresa and Rico went into the village to shop for gifts for Melinda and her new son.
The day was warm, the wind was soft and two of the small launches used to transport guests from St. Thomas were docked at the harbor.
Tesoro village looked, Teresa thought, like a movie set. It was too perfect to be real. The street was narrow and lined on either side by brightly painted shops. From pastels to jewel tones, each building was as different as the wares it offered.
There was a bakery, and the scent of cinnamon wafted through its open door to tempt pedestrians. There were souvenir shops, a chocolatier that Teresa really wanted to visit, and every other kind of shop you could imagine, all catering to the wealthy tourists who came to the island to vacation. At the end of the winding street there was a small grocery store that mostly served the locals and there was a spectacular view of the ocean from every point on the tidy street. The shops huddled close to the freshly swept sidewalks. Windows gleamed, reflecting the bright light of the sun, and terra-cotta pots positioned outside the tidy stores held trailing bouquets of brightly colored flowers.
There was so much to see, Teresa swung her head from side to side in an attempt to miss nothing. “It’s so pretty,” she said, with a glance up at Rico, walking beside her. “Like a postcard.”
“That’s been said,” he agreed. “In fact, Sean and I hired photographers to take photos of this street at different angles and at different times of the year. Then Walter picked the ones he liked and we had postcards made to be sold in all of the shops. Proceeds go directly to the island, and the citizens here vote on how the money’s spent.”
She just stared at him for a moment, letting the surprise she felt show on her features. “In Mexico you stayed out of local politics. Said you only wanted to run your hotel. You weren’t interested in joining committees or getting involved with the other hoteliers or the tourist industry.”
He shrugged and shifted his gaze to pass over the main street, now crowded with a few of the tourists staying at his hotel. “Everything changes.”
She sighed, staring up at his profile. “Not everything,” she murmured, knowing that her feelings for him would never change. Of course, she also knew that Rico wouldn’t believe her even if she was foolish enough to admit to still loving him. So she kept that piece of information to herself.
“There were two boats in the harbor,” she pointed out. “I mean, besides the local fishing boats.”
He nodded, tucked her arm through his and started walking again. “Sometimes there are more hotel guests coming in from St. Thomas than usual.”
“No cruise ships are allowed to stop here, right?”
He glanced at her. “How did you know that?”
Well, because when she found out that Rico had bought land on Tesoro with the intention of building a hotel, she’d spent a lot of time researching the island. She’d wanted at least to know what he was doing and where he would be living—even if she couldn’t be with him. Which was how she had known that Melinda’s grandfather owned the island outright. And that it was one of the bigger privately held islands in the Caribbean.