question, he was surprised to find he wanted her to admit she’d been the one to call it off. It should have made no difference to him. He wasn’t interested, so why did it matter if she was on the rebound or not? She hadn’t sounded particularly sorry when she’d explained arriving alone yesterday, but then pain manifested itself in many ways.
“I did,” she replied. She put down her last empanada and dusted off her fingers.
She looked so serious he felt compelled to tease her again, just to bring that light back to her eyes—even if it was anger. “What happened? Would he not keep you in the lifestyle to which you were accustomed?”
She raised her dark gaze to his, and he saw bleak acceptance. “Do you really think this is about lifestyle?” She smiled sadly. “If by lifestyle you mean affection and loyalty.” She looked down and cleared her throat before raising her head again. “Let’s just say he was enjoying marital benefits—without the benefit of the marriage.” She paused. “Or the wife.”
Understanding dawned. The dog had gone elsewhere, all the while planning a wedding with Sophia. “He was cheating?”
“We never should have gotten engaged,” she replied. “Both of us were settling for what looked good, I suppose. I’m ashamed of that. I should have seen …”
He recognized self-blame when he saw it and for the first time he felt sorry for Sophia Hollingsworth.
But she surprised him by squaring her shoulders and pinning him with a direct, confident look. “At least I had the gumption to kick him to the curb when I found him with his …”
Tomas rattled off a few words in Spanish. The words were similar enough to English that Sophia puzzled them out and she burst out laughing. “Oh, thank you for that. That’s perfect!”
Dios, she was beautiful, especially when she forgot herself and laughed like that. Her eyes lit up and her cheeks flushed rosy pink. How could her fiancé cheat on her? Why would he? She was a stunning, sensual woman, and he’d bet she had no clue of her own allure. He’d thought she was spoiled but now he was wondering if she’d just been sheltered. Either way, she hadn’t deserved to be treated in such a fashion.
“For a man to do such a thing—he has no honour. Why would he stray? You’re a beautiful woman.”
Her gaze struck his, and he felt the impact clear to his toes. For a long moment a rich silence enveloped the kitchen as his gaze dropped to her full lips.
This was exactly what he needed to avoid. He cleared his throat, searching for words to break the spell. “A bit spoiled, perhaps, but not unkind, I don’t think.”
“Gee, thanks,” she muttered, looking away. For a few seconds she studied her fingers and then she asked, without looking up, “You would never cheat on a woman, would you, Tomas?”
It was as if a cold breeze blew through the room and he froze. Cheat? No. But cheating was not the only way to wrong a woman. He’d failed Rosa in other ways. He rose from his chair and began gathering the dishes.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“It is nothing.” He ran some water in the sink for dishes. This conversation had to end now. And he had to stop looking at her as if she were his favourite sweet. “This afternoon we need to ride. I will do these if you will go to the closet and find some boots that fit. And a hat. You may borrow one of Maria’s, I think. The sun is already making itself known on your cheeks. You will also need some bombachas. They’re in a box in the office. First door on your right.”
“Some what?”
“Bombachas. Gaucho pants. You were right about the on-site boutique restocking—it is also on the agenda for this week.”
“Where are we going?”
“I need to check the cattle this afternoon. We will ride out along the pasture. It is not a hard ride, Sophia. You will be fine.”
Sophia looked down at her hands, torn between wanting to know about what had caused Tomas’s abrupt change of subject and knowing she should probably let well enough alone. And that moment when she’d told him about Antoine … there had been something in his eyes that had taken her breath away. She wasn’t used to a man having such a physical effect on her. There was a part of her that wondered if she could make it happen again, to feel that queer lifting in her chest when he settled his dark gaze upon her, or the shiver on her flesh the few times he’d touched her. She’d never felt anything quite like it before.
Not even with her fiancé. She looked down at her manicured nails, marred and slightly chipped from the morning’s work. She was beginning to understand that the spa days and shopping sprees were only ways to cover what had been wrong from the start. Antoine had never loved her, and perhaps she’d never truly loved him, either. She’d only fancied herself in love.
It had hurt her incredibly that he’d taken a … No. She wouldn’t even think the word mistress. It was too lofty a title for the tawdry piece he was … well, doing what ever he was doing on the side. She’d even blamed herself for a while, thinking that if Antoine had been satisfied at home he wouldn’t have strayed. She had harsh memories of the things Antoine had said about her at the end. Like that she’d driven him to it. That she was an ice queen. Those words still hurt. Because on some level, she was afraid they were true.
But a man who loved her would have waited. He wouldn’t have resorted to an affair. Tomas’s words helped more than he could ever know. It hadn’t been her fault. It had been Antoine’s lack of character. And the way Tomas made her feel when he looked at her was anything but icy.
Sophia sat, nonplussed at the abrupt change as Tomas banged dishes around in the sink. Only moments ago they’d been talking about her and even laughing a little about her situation. And in a flash, the curtains were drawn again and Tomas was locked away.
She didn’t feel it was the time to push. She stared at Tomas’s back at the sink, so straight and rigid and unwelcoming. Perhaps he would relax during their ride. She guessed he was the type that would feel most at home out riding the pampas with the wind and wide open space for company.
Unlike her. Her heart quailed. She had known since arriving that she would end up on horseback. But she hadn’t thought it would be today. For a second she considered confessing her inexperience to Tomas. But when she looked at him, his jaw was set in a tight line. He was shutting her out.
That was his right, after all. They were strangers, really, simply in the same place at the same time due to circumstance. He didn’t owe her anything and she didn’t owe him anything, either. And yet she was so tired of being shut out. Of being in the background, patted on the head. She was sick and tired of her role as ‘behaving appropriately’ because she was too afraid to do anything else. Wear the right clothes, meet the right people, say the right things. And for whose benefit? Certainly not for hers. For her mother’s ambition that Sophia would raise them above their station—and mostly for Antoine’s political aspirations. He’d insisted that his success was hers as well, but she knew now that was a bunch of claptrap.
She wanted a success of her own. Even if meant riding a stupid horse across the pampas to impress a stubborn Argentinian. She wanted the disdain in his eyes to turn to admiration.
She found the box in the office and took out a pair of gray trousers, crestfallen at the pleating and narrow bottoms. They certainly weren’t in vogue, but beggars couldn’t
