“I was upset. I wanted to be comforted, to have my mother tell me that our family was still okay. So I took the magazine to her. She said she’d asked my father about it, too, that he’d insisted it was a business trip. But over time there were more photos. I stopped bringing the magazines to her, because every time I did, she got weaker.”
She gripped his hands, soaked up the warmth of his skin, as her voice grew thick. “When I was nine, Johanna was born. I don’t know what happened between Mom and Dad, but just before and for about six months after, they were happy again.” Amazing how clearly she could remember sitting on Dad’s lap, smell his spicy aftershave as he helped her hold baby Johanna wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Mom had looked on from her bed, a rosy glow in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes.
“It didn’t last. Nothing did with Dad. Around the time Johanna turned one, he started going out again. Filled his absences with toys for Johanna and me, gifts for Mom. Every time one of those gift boxes arrived, she faded a little more. One night I heard Johanna screaming.” Her throat constricted so tightly she nearly choked. “I found her in her bassinet, wet and cold. No blanket. Mom had started taking sleeping pills. She slept right through it.”
Alejandro’s arms tightened around her waist.
“So I started taking care of Johanna. And Mom.”
“What about servants?”
It was almost a shock, hearing Alejandro’s voice after she’d been speaking so long.
“We had maids and a housekeeper. A cook during the week. But I was ashamed. Ashamed of my father for abandoning us. Ashamed of my mother for abandoning us, too, in her own way. So I did what I could by myself.”
She closed her eyes. Exhaustion and memories tugged at her, made her weary.
“I remember the last night I had with her. I was twelve. Johanna was three. I took her to Mom’s room for a visit and Mom was...happy.” Her eyes grew hot and she scrunched her eyes tight against the tears. “I was so...hopeful. She was dressed in this beautiful gown she hadn’t worn in years. She’d had the cook bring up treats. There were chocolates and strawberries and ice cream, and she even let me have a sip of champagne.” A tear escaped and traced a burning trail down her cheek. “She...she told me she was so proud of me. Her big girl.”
Somewhere in the distance, a bird tweeted. She opened her eyes. The sight of the French countryside lit by the warm glow of the sun calmed her racing pulse, tethered her to this moment enough for her to force out her next words.
“We put Johanna to bed together. She tucked me in and kissed my forehead. I thought we would finally go back to the way things were. That I would get to be a kid again. I went to bed happy.”
Her voice cracked. Alejandro started to say something, but she plowed forward. “I found her the next morning. She’d overdosed on sleeping pills.”
“Calandra...”
He turned her in the circle of his arms and cupped her face. She met his eyes, sucking in one shuddering breath after another.
“She said in her note...that she couldn’t go on...any longer.” All the emotions she’d suppressed, all the grief she’d stuffed down deep inside, rose up at once, a tidal wave of sorrow that threatened to drown her. “I confronted Dad...after the funeral. He cared more about his reputation and whether anyone knew that she’d killed herself than the fact that his wife had committed suicide because of him. And then a week later...he died. In a car accident with his mistress.”
She broke. Years of restrained sobs escaped. Had Alejandro not been holding her, cradling her, she would have sunk to the floor of the balcony.
He scooped her up in his arms, carried her inside and laid her on the bed. She started to reach for him, to ask him to stay, but before she could, he laid down next to her and drew her back into his embrace. How long she cried, she couldn’t say. Alejandro stayed by her side the entire time, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead, whispering words in Spanish she didn’t understand but still took comfort in.
At last, her tears dried. When she looked into Alejandro’s eyes, saw the emotion brimming his dark blue gaze, she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him. He paused, as if waiting to see if this was just a reaction to unburdening herself or if she truly wanted him.
She smiled against his mouth. Then sat up, rolled and straddled his hips.
His eyes flared. “Calandra...”
She leaned down and pressed her lips to his again. She nipped his bottom lip, thrilled at the groan that escaped him as his hands gripped her thighs. With one tug, she loosened the belt of the robe and shrugged out of the sleeves. Seeing his gaze darken with passion as he gazed at her naked body made her feel beautiful, sexy...
Strong.
She reached down, grabbed his hands in hers and guided them to her breasts. His fingers settled on her flesh, sliding down to stroke her nipples into hard points. She gasped, arched, moaned.
“Alejandro...make love to me.”
Before she could take a breath, he sat up, one arm circling around her waist, and laid her back onto the bed with a strength that stole her breath. He stripped himself of his clothes in record time and laid his naked body on top of hers. He kissed her as he slid inside her, claiming her body with his.
They moved together, their pace almost frantic as they arched against each other, hands grasping, lips tasting, fire building until they came apart in each other’s arms.
As they drifted down from the peak of pleasure, three words rose to her lips. She almost whispered them.
Wait.
Just a little longer. A little more time to think, to process.