In the Argentine's Bed / Secret Baby, Public Affair: In the Argentine's Bed

She’d jumped a foot into the air every time her phone rang in the last twenty-four hours. But Amado hadn’t called her either, despite his promise.

She parked in front of the house. Inhaled deeply. Then she summoned her last ounce of strength to tug on the door handle, and stepped out into the blinding sun.

The first thing she heard was the high-pitched keening of a woman weeping.

Uh-oh.

She approached the door, wincing at the loud crunch of her shoes on the gravel drive.

Heart pounding, she knocked. Held herself steady as footsteps approached. The tall wood-paneled door flung open.

Amado.

For a second his face was blank with shock. Then his fierce black gaze hit her like a blast from a shotgun. “You.”

She swallowed hard. “Me.”

He was taller and more imposing than she remembered. More handsome, too. His hair hung in his eyes and made him look slightly wild. Uncivilized.

“Look what you’ve done.” His fierce whisper grated on her ears. He gestured inside the house. Racking sobs filled the serene, antique-filled space. “My mother is distraught.”

A strange expression came over his face.

She’s not your mother.

She kept silent as the thought passed between them, thickening the tension in the air.

The two big white dogs appeared, sentries at Amado’s sides. Their dark eyes peered up at her as if to ask “Why?”

Susannah took a step backward, and almost fell off the steps. Amado leaped forward and pulled her roughly back up.

Then he tugged his hand away as if the bare skin of her arm had stung him like a jellyfish.

“Thank you,” she stammered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you or your family…”

His eyes narrowed. “But you had a job to do.” She could hear the controlled rage in his deep voice.

She swallowed.

Another loud wail rang through the air.

Amado forced a grim smile. Gestured into the pain-filled interior. “Why don’t you come in?”

He disappeared into the cool gloom of the house. One of the dogs shot her an accusatory look over his powerful shoulders before following obediently at his master’s heels.

Every muscle in her body itched with the urge to turn and flee. But her parents had taught her to cope with tough situations, not run from them.

Susannah inhaled a shaky breath and stepped inside.

Clara Alvarez sat on the sofa, head in her hands. Sobs racked her solid body.

“Mamá.” Amado spoke softly.

“I’m not your mother.” Her meaty hands muffled the tear-thickened words. “I shouldn’t have played a part in this charade. I lied. God will curse me. I deserve to suffer.” Her fresh howl of pain ripped a hole in Susannah’s gut.

What on earth had happened here thirty-one years ago?

Amado shook his head.

“She’s so upset. My father has ridden off into the mountains. He won’t speak to anyone.”

He strode across the room, and Susannah followed, hoping to get out of earshot of the distraught Clara. Tension hummed in the air, and in her own anxious body. The estancia’s tranquil, nurturing atmosphere had been shattered. Possibly forever.

“Can we go out on the terrace?” she whispered.

Amado frowned at her, but opened the door and ushered her out.

The sun glared at them over jagged mountain peaks that suddenly looked like the teeth of a giant saw.

Susannah steadied herself. The situation really couldn’t get any worse. Now seemed as good a time as any to blurt out her request. “Your real father wants you to come to New York.”

“My real father.” The words tore from Amado’s lips like a foul curse. “How can you say that? A strange man who cared nothing for me. Who abandoned me to fate. Now he seeks to claim me for reasons of his own and doesn’t care whose life he ruins in the process.”

“He’s very sorry for how he treated his lost children.” Susannah twisted her hands together.

“Lost? I wasn’t lost. I was at home here in Tierra de Oro.” Pain shone in his eyes. “The estate has passed from father to son, for six generations. Now the chain is broken because my father has no son.”

He broke off and stared out at the mountains.

The acres of lush vineyards sprawled in a rich, striped carpet below them. The grapes no doubt growing and ripening, regardless of the human drama inside the house.

Susannah could hardly bring herself to look at Amado’s strained profile. “I don’t understand. Who was Marisa Alvarez?”

He didn’t turn to face her. “Marisa Alvarez was my sister.”

Susannah’s hand flew to her mouth. “A sister? I didn’t know you had one.”

“Why would you? She’s been dead for thirty years.” Now he turned. His dark gaze burned her. “And she wasn’t my sister at all.”

Susannah blinked, sure anything she could say would be worse than nothing. She couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

She wanted to offer him something, maybe even a reassuring hand. But his rigid posture and proud expression prevented her.

She could still remember the powerful sensation of being held in his strong arms. Lying in his bed, suffused with pleasure and spent tension, more relaxed than she’d ever been in her life.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

“Marisa, my sister, lived a quiet life here at Tierra de Oro. Her mother—Ignacio’s first wife—died in childbirth, so she was raised by her widowed father.”

He glanced at her. “I knew all this. What I didn’t know is that, when Marisa was seventeen, she grew tired of being sheltered and protected by her father. After spending a summer studying art in Mendoza, and secretly earning money from selling her paintings, she ran away to New York.”

Susannah blew out a breath. It was starting to make sense.

“My father,” he raised an eyebrow, “or should I say Ignacio, knows little about this part of her life. But she stayed there for over a year and during that time she met Tarrant Hardcastle.”

His words dripped with venom at the name.

“And they had an affair,” Susannah whispered.

“Yes. And she got pregnant. At which point he told her to get rid of it or he was done with her.”

Susannah winced.

Amado blew out a hard breath and shook his head. “Of course she couldn’t do that. She was raised Catholic.” Pain tightened the lines of his face. “And she didn’t dare tell her father. So she stayed in New York. She went through the pregnancy alone, and had the baby by herself.”

He turned and paced along the length of the terrace. His broad shoulders pulled the cloth of his shirt taut. “She died giving birth, just as her own mother had done eighteen years earlier.”

“Oh, no.” Susannah felt tears spring to her eyes.

“She died alone, afraid to seek help in a strange country where she had no true friends.” The horror of the situation was written all over his face. “And because her lover had abandoned her.”

He laid a fist on the terrace wall. Tension hardened every muscle in his body. “Someone, a neighbor, heard her…she must have been in terrible pain. They called an ambulance that was able to save the baby, but it was already too late for Marisa.”

His chest rose and fell beneath his shirt. Fresh tears glittered in his eyes. “They found her address in Argentina somewhere in her possessions and called Ignacio to the hospital to claim the baby.” He stared at her. “They’d already called Tarrant Hardcastle and he disavowed all responsibility.”

“That’s terrible.” Susannah could barely manage to get out the words. They were so inadequate to the horror of the situation. It was hard to imagine even Tarrant Hardcastle being cold and cruel enough to abandon a tiny, helpless, motherless baby.

It dawned on her like a clap of thunder that Amado was that baby.

Hot tears rolled over her cheeks.

Amado frowned. “Why are you crying? Surely you knew all this.”

“I didn’t know anything.” The words came out on a whine. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe that Tarrant…” A sob cracked her voice.

“My real father.” He blew out a snort of disgust. “I curse the ground he walks on.”

“I don’t blame you.” Susannah bit her lip. How on earth could she convince Amado to come back to New York with her now? She didn’t even want to.

He inhaled deeply. “So Ignacio brought me back to Tierra de Oro. He didn’t want me to suffer the shame of illegitimacy so he quickly married his longtime housekeeper, Clara. They told people Marisa had died in a car accident.”

“I see.” That explained how Clara came into the picture. “I’d think people would put two and two together, what with Marisa suddenly disappearing and a new baby arriving.”

“My father said they pretended to have married earlier, but kept it secret because of the scandal of him marrying a servant.” He snorted. “Substituting a petty piece of gossip for a real one.”

He shook his head, looking out at the mountains. “Who knows, maybe everyone around here has known for years. But I didn’t.” He tapped his fist to his chest. “Thirty years on this earth and it never crossed my mind that I was anyone but the son of Clara and Ignacio Alvarez.”

“Your father, I mean, Ignacio, told you all this?” If it was awkward for her to figure out what to call him, she could barely imagine how Amado must feel.

“Yes. And I got angry. Very angry.” He fixed his gaze on the horizon. “How could he lie to me for so long?” The question rang with his pain and confusion.

Susannah wished she could think of something to say but her brain still buzzed with amazement at the strange situation.

He blew out a long breath. “And now he’s ridden off into the hills and Clara is inconsolable.”

Susannah was sweating inside her thin dress. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

Amado turned to her with a fierce expression. “Why should you be sorry? You’re just doing your job.” Anger curled in his voice, but once he looked at her, his gaze softened.

Her own distress must have been written all over her face. “You had no choice. With a jerk like that for a boss, you’d be fired if you didn’t jump when he snapped his fingers.”

Susannah exhaled. “You’re right. I did it to keep my job. Now I’m wishing I hadn’t.”

He turned his profile to her and stared out at the mountains. Sun glittered off the icy peaks. “It’s better the truth is out.”

“Better? How is it better? Your family is in chaos.” She glanced behind her, to where muffled sobs could still be heard through the door into the living room.

“Secrets are like poison in the system. They can hide for some time, but sooner or later, they’ll weaken and destroy it.” He turned to her, eyes narrowed. “Better to flush them out and face the consequences.”

Despite his brave words, she could see the strain in every line of his body from the hard jut of his chin to the aggressive stance of his feet. He stood like someone trying to keep his balance in a world that had been upended.

“It’s a different era now. There’s no shame in being illegitimate.”

“Doesn’t bother me. I’m still the same person.” His voice remained steady but a muscle tightened in his neck.

Was he? How could you be the same person after learning that the people you were closest to had lied to you throughout your whole life?

“You should come to New York. I know you’ve spoken to your sister Fiona on the phone…” She cringed, wondering exactly how Fiona had botched the phone call. Tarrant’s spoiled daughter was so used to having everything her way, she didn’t function all that well in the real world. Susannah couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. How could you grow up to be a normal person with Tarrant Hardcastle as your role model? “You have a brother too. Dominic was abandoned, like you, but they found him and he’s part of the family now.”

Amado stared at her, as if the thought was sinking in. “A brother.” He looked past her, out to the mountains.

Susannah swallowed. “There might be many of you. So far, Dominic’s the only other one they’ve tracked down. He was raised by his mother. He’s a year or so older than you.”

His eyes locked onto hers. “I’d like to meet him.”

“You’d like him. I work closely with him choosing wine for the restaurants.”

“He works for Hardcastle Enterprises?” He looked appalled.

“Yes. He owns his own chain of food stores, too, but Tarrant convinced him to take over leadership of the company. It took some persuading to hear Dominic tell it. His attitude was similar to yours, but I guess Tarrant won him over in the end.”

Amado’s face hardened. “I have no interest in meeting the man who left my mother to die.” Then, he inhaled, thoughtful. “But I do want to meet my brother and sister.”

“They’d like to meet you, too.” She hadn’t seen Dominic and Fiona since the results. How could she look them in the eye when she’d slept with their brother?

What on earth had she been thinking?

She swallowed hard.

The sun glinted off Amado’s proud profile. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his tanned and muscled forearms. He was gorgeous.

Still, that was no excuse. Her behavior was beyond unprofessional. She’d have to do her best to stay far away from him while he was in New York. Then he’d go back to Argentina and no one would be the wiser.

“Why are you backing away from me?” He glanced down at her feet.

She froze, unaware that her body had been putting a safe distance between them. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He tilted his head. Humor glinted in the coffee-brown depths of his eyes. “Little did I know what I was getting into when I invited you in for wine and alfajores. I thought my parents were so rude to try to get rid of you. Now, I see, they wanted to protect me. To protect us all.”

He took a step toward her. Desire throbbed in her veins as her body responded to the raw aggression of his gesture.

“Don’t think you can walk away now.”

Susannah stood rigid on the veranda of his house, her slim body shivering with tension.

In spite of everything, Amado wanted to take her in his arms.

Her prim carriage and her clipped, businesslike speech were only one side of Susannah Clarke. He’d enjoyed the delicious privilege of seeing the other side.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she left. About her serious and thoughtful expressions. About the arch of her body under his. The way she had clung to him, her limbs taut with arousal. How she’d writhed beneath him as their passion built to exquisite agony, followed by an explosive exhale of sweet relief.

It was a night he’d never forget, with a woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Especially now that she’d turned his life upside down.

Her elegant chin tilted as she defied his challenge. He took another step forward. Uninvited, he slid his hand under her jacket and ran his palm over her breast.

She gasped. Her nipple tightened under his palm. And she didn’t step back.

Desire spiked through him as he cupped her breast. Peered into her mysterious dark eyes. Her mouth closed, then opened again. A silent protest? Her lips were naturally dark, the color of smashed berries, and he longed to crush his mouth over them and drink deep.

One more step brought his chest within inches of hers. His hand still on her breast, testing, teasing, he inhaled the scent of her in the hot afternoon air.

He could already taste her desire on his tongue, smell it on the wind. Also her fear.

He slid his hands around her back, pulling her close. She stood like a statue, the air between them thick with tension.

He laid his palms over the dip of her waist, enjoyed the curve of her backside. He could hear her breathing, feel her arousal swelling like a bud thickening and preparing to open.

Against her will.

If he lifted her dress he’d bet her panties were already damp with longing. His erection strained against his zipper.

Maybe he’d take her here, on the hard stone of the patio, under the unforgiving sun. With the mountains watching in stern silence.

Her lips parted and a shaky breath escaped. Her eyes slid closed for a second as her insides quivered under his fingers. He felt her muscles contract under her neat dress.

Waiting for him.

Hoping.

Their tongues clashed as he kissed her, hot and hard. The taste of her was intoxicating, a drug he’d craved.

Her body crushed against his, lithe with passion as she kissed him back, clutching his face to hers with eager hands.

A low, guttural moan escaped her as he lifted her dress and tested her slick heat with his fingers.

He slid a finger into her silky depths and she rocked against him. He held her steady with one hand behind her back as he brought her swiftly to climax with his finger and thumb.

His power over her was absolute at this moment. Eyes closed, she gave herself over to the fierce magic of the moment.

The tremor raged through her and he caught her as she almost lost her footing. Panting, she rested against him for a second.

Then she realized he’d stopped and was just standing there.

Staring at her.

Prim and proper Susannah Clarke’s eyes were black with passion. A dark flush heightened her proud cheekbones and her long dark hair hung about her shoulders, wild from his caresses.

He let her dress fall back to her calves.

Didn’t say a word.

Her glaze of passion lessened and confusion flickered in her eyes.

Good.

She smoothed the front of her dress, suddenly self-conscious. He could see her nipples, still peaked under the soft fabric.

“You don’t find it easy to say no to me, do you?”

His cruel question made her blink.

Why should he be the one lying awake, tormented by memories of that night? Let her suffer. So cool and calm and collected, as she delivered her life-shattering news.

She checked the buttons on the front of her dress.

“Don’t worry, you still look virginal.”

His mocking tone made her blink again.

“Though, of course, we both know better.” He tilted his head. Contemplated the possibility of touching her firm breasts again. “What would your big boss say, if he knew?”

Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t?”

“How do you know? I’m a virtual stranger. We spent one day together.” He licked his lips. “And one night.”

She backed away. This time he let her.

“You know me as Amado Alvarez, of Tierra de Oro.” He snorted. “Or at least that’s who I used to be until you showed up.” He hesitated. Watching her squirm. “He would have kept your sexy secrets. Amado Alvarez was a man of honor.”

He inhaled, then let out a long, slow exhale. “But apparently, I’m not the man I thought I was. I’m the son of this…Tarrant Hardcastle.” He spat the name like a bad taste. “Who knows what I’m truly capable of?”

The patio doors flung open and Ignacio crashed out onto the terrace. “What the hell is she doing back here?” he raged, eyes bulging.

Amado froze. He’d never seen his father like this. Ignacio could express strong feelings in an argument, or when his favorite football team was losing, but Amado’d never seen him yell at a woman.

Since Susannah showed up, bringing the ugly truth about his parentage, everything had changed. He didn’t know who he or anyone else was anymore.

Susannah shrank away, tugging her jacket over her dress as if covering her nakedness.

Ignacio moved toward her. “Get out, now! I’ve never laid a hand on a woman, but by God, I’ll throw you out myself if you don’t—”

“Calm yourself.” Amado stepped forward and grabbed his father’s arm. “Susannah is here on business.” He shot her a dark look.

She made a vain attempt to tuck her gorgeous wild hair behind her shoulders.

“She has no business here but to disrupt our lives.”

Susannah stepped back. Amado couldn’t resist a powerful urge to defend her. “She brought the truth, didn’t she?”

His father frowned.

“The truth that you planned to keep from me. Don’t I have a right to know the circumstances of my own birth? To know who brought me into this world?”

The force in his own voice surprised him. But suddenly he did feel strongly about it.

“It was for the best.” His father rubbed his temples. “I thought it was for the best.”

Anger heated Amado’s blood as long-buried resentments rose to the surface. Nagging doubts he’d silenced for years now crept out of the darkness. He was beginning to suspect he had every reason to despise Ignacio for his lies. “Is that why you drove away Valentina?”

He still remembered the heated shouting matches he’d had with his father when he was nineteen and desperately in love. Ignacio had point-blank forbidden the marriage, saying she was unsuitable as an Alvarez bride.

He’d wondered at the time if Ignacio was secretly behind her sudden change of heart. Now Amado saw the ugly truth unfold in front of his eyes. “You wouldn’t accept her as my wife, not because she was illegitimate, but because you didn’t want anyone to find out that I am, too?”

Ignacio hesitated. Rubbed a hand over his face. “If you’d married as a minor, they would have seen your birth certificate.”

The confession chilled his blood. He’d suspected the truth all along, but never been sure. Her change of heart had been too sudden, too final.

Now, he knew. The man who called himself his own father had driven away the woman he loved. “You chose your lie over my life.”

Amado shoved a hand through his hair. The injustice burned him. Years of lies that had warped his existence. His comfortable life here at Tierra de Oro came at a harsh cost, especially to the two woman who should have been closest to him.

“All this time, Marisa has been a silent shadow. She was the sister I never knew and who I knew nothing about. It’s not right. She was a real person.”

He realized his fist was clenched, but he couldn’t seem to unlock it. “She was my mother and you shouldn’t have swept her story out the door with yesterday’s dust.” His voice trembled with rage.

“She died so young.” His father shook his head. Amado resisted the urge to step forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “She never had a chance to become a woman.”

“She was a woman. You may not have wanted to accept it, but your little girl grew up. She bore a child.”

“I don’t…I don’t…” his father spluttered.

“You don’t want to think about that.” Amado’s words shattered the stunned quiet. “You never did. You just wanted her to be your little girl forever, which is probably why she ran away to New York in the first place. You can’t keep everything the same as it was in the nineteenth century. Like the estate, we must change and grow in order to keep living.”

“If only she’d never met that Tarrant Hardcastle.” The words dripped from his father’s tongue like acid.

“But she did. And now I must meet him, too.” The resolve formed in Amado’s mind as he said the words. This family was done with ignoring unpleasant realities. He wanted to face them head on.

For years, he’d tried to forget the pain of losing his fiancée. He’d always suspected that Ignacio had had a hand in Valentina’s leaving, but to hear him admit it—

Adrenaline flashed through his muscles and he struggled to keep himself under control.

He was done being played. Perhaps meeting his birth father would bring some reality back into this charade.

“I’ll meet Tarrant Hardcastle and make up my own mind about him.”

“He’s not your father. He didn’t raise you.”

“He bears half the responsibility for bringing me into this world, whether he wanted to or not.” He drew in a breath as anger heated his blood. “Now he thinks he can fold me to his bosom like a long-lost sheep?” He blew out a hard breath. “We’ll see. For now, I want to look into the face of the man who left my mother to die.”