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He braced his hands at her waist and lifted her to the ground, letting her slide down his body. She gripped his arms and stared up. “Next time, we are going to bring a chaperone.”
“Martina is too busy gossiping with your aunt to even notice that we are…riding.” He let loose and walked to his horse, clutching the pannier and finding an even spot for them to enjoy an hour or so alone. Shelene removed her bolero and strolled toward him. He found the blanket and snapped it into place. He held her hand while she sat. She threw her hat and gloves aside. “I brought wine and a few other things.”
“Do those other things include groveling, begging and crying?”
He pulled out the glasses and one of the wine bottles. “You’ve gotten much saucier in my absence. I might need more than one bottle of wine to cure that.”
“I’m afraid it’s incurable.” She accepted her glass of wine. “When a Spanish woman reaches her majority, matures and becomes the head of her householdandruns a large estate, she finds she has little time for the coy niceties of etiquette.”
He lifted his glass to hers and touched the delicate bell. “What do I need to do to win such a woman’s trust?”
She sipped at her madeira, then stared at the blanket. “Roman, I am happy you are home. My heart is full of incredible gratitude for what you have done. After all the months you were gone, and then thinking you were dead along with my father… I still can’t believe or accept you are here. It’s almost like a dream…”
“So, you are not ready to have a husband return to your life?”
“A husband? I was about to marry Señor Navarro.” She braced one arm against the blanket and leaned toward him. “Don’t you understand? It is you, Roman. Not because you are my husband. But because of our past. Having you in my life might be compelling, but you haven’t changed. What is the next thing you will chase after, forgetting you have a wife and son here to protect and care for? When will you find yourself facing a man with a gun whom you can’t outrun? Or an enemy hell-bent on revenge for some long-ago slight? I love the peace here at Las Colinas, but I want—”
“What I want too. I want you and our son. I want to live in this valley and enjoy the sun on my face while our love grows. And our family grows.” He took her free hand. “I love you, Shelene. It has always been you. Do I want to be the way I am? It was a calling for me. One I couldn’t deny. Do I want you to be anything but who you are? No. Do I love you because you are weak and easily won over? No, I love you because you are the highest and best prize, the only woman I have ever wanted. And the most difficult to win. But I am not giving up on having you.”
“Let us talk of something else.”
“No. It’s too nice a day to talk about anything but us and our future. Let’s drink all the madeira and talk about our son. Tell me about when he was born. Or before that, when you found out.”
She smiled slyly. “It was nothing less than the happiest day of my life.”
