She was, to some extent. They were settled in their new home and Cesar had fallen into working a couple of long days at the office in the first half of the week, then working from home the rest. She and Enrique had accompanied him for a brief business trip to France and he’d delegated another to Rico so he could stay home.
Cesar took Enrique when he walked the vineyard on Saturday mornings, usually leaving her in bed, dozing off his lovemaking. They made love constantly. Inventively.
So she told herself to quit being so damned greedy. A girl like her couldn’t ask for more. Wasn’t it enough that she had a man who told her she was beautiful when she was still wearing her robe and didn’t even have her evening gown on yet?
* * *
“Can you zip me?” she asked the night of the gala, moving across to where he stood fastening his cuff links.
Her gown was a simple, strapless black with a ruched waist that gathered on her hip, disguising those last few pounds she was still fighting to lose. A scalloped, off-the-shoulder lace overlay of three-quarter sleeves would lend it a Spanish flair and her hair was pulled to one side in a rope of straight gold that had fallen behind her left shoulder.
Cesar’s warm fingertips smoothed her hair to the front, baring her back to him, making her shiver.
“Like that?” he murmured, stroking her exposed spine down the length of the open zipper. “I can’t stop thinking about your mouth around me the other night.”
“Cesar,” she gasped, clutching at where her heart almost leaped out of her chest. “Why do you always talk about it?”
“Because it turns you on,” he said, tone heavy with smug amusement. He continued to caress her nape and set a kiss where her neck met her shoulder. “Doesn’t it?” he demanded against her skin.
She was blushing, flushed with pleasure at knowing he enjoyed their lovemaking as much as she did.
He lifted his head and something cool and smooth and surprisingly heavy slid across her upper chest.
He clipped the necklace into place, then zipped her dress before touching her shoulder to turn her.
“Oh! I didn’t know I’d be wearing it.” She moved so she could see herself in the mirror. The pendant on the thick platinum chain was a teardrop-shaped blue sapphire set in a splash of platinum rays accented with glittering diamonds. Cesar had arranged with the jeweler to have it included as part of her silent auction fund-raiser. “It’s so beautiful.”
“On you, very,” he agreed, appearing behind her and smoothing her hair back behind her shoulder again. “And that clinches it.”
“Clinches what?” She met his gaze in the mirror.
“I’ll make the final bid. There are earrings to match.” He nodded at the open velvet box on the side table.
She was only touching the edges of the stone, not wanting so much as a fingerprint to dull its sparkle, but she looked up at him with a kind of admonishment.
“I don’t expect this, you know.” She’d already picked up on the great pride his mother took in showing off things her husband purchased for her, but Sorcha didn’t see how Javiero’s buying a red convertible for his wife translated into anything but a conversation starter over lunch.
“The part where you married me and come home to us is the part that matters,” Sorcha told Cesar.
“I know,” he said, something like tenderness softening his hard features. His caress on her jaw was light and sweet. “I’ve never understood that about you.”
“That I would value a person over a thing?”
“That you don’t expect anything for the amount of yourself that you give up,” he explained.
“What does that mean? That if I could afford the right item, I could have more of you?” She kept her tone a light tease, reminding herself that his world had never been like hers, where all she and her family had had was love, but his remark made it sound as if he would never love her. That shook her.
“What more do you need?” he asked with a light frown, as if he couldn’t imagine what he was failing to provide.
Oh, Cesar.
She was glad to have the distraction of the party to take her mind off the fact he couldn’t see she wanted his heart.
* * *
Cesar’s world had always been one where status mattered. He didn’t buy in to it the way his mother did, but he still felt his youthful failure as more than just a financial disaster. It was his greatest embarrassment that he’d let personal feelings get the better of him, lowered his guard and left himself open to becoming a mark.
His parents’ disappointment had been nothing compared to his disgust with himself.
Sleeping with Sorcha, getting her pregnant, crashing and calling off his wedding... That was more weak, mortal behavior where he’d allowed passion and other emotions to govern him. Even his conversation with her earlier, over the necklace, was niggling at him, making him discontent.