dinners with a view. This wasn’t Tomas’s fault. It was hers, for not being more thorough. If she’d known what sort of establishment this was, she would have packed the proper things. Sometimes she felt as if she could do nothing right. She trusted in all the wrong things instead of relying on herself.
If she were determined to change, why not start now? She could fake it until she made it, right? She would show this Tomas that she could take on anything he dished out.
“I’m looking forward to it,” she replied, desperate to save face. Did helping out also mean horseback-riding? She felt herself go pale at the thought. She’d ridden a horse exactly twice in her life. The first time the mare had been led by her halter. The second time had been a few years later when a friend at school had asked her to an afternoon at a local stables where she took lessons. That time Sophia had held the reins. She’d managed a very choppy trot but had nearly panicked when the horse had broken into a canter. She thought she was probably twelve when that had happened.
But she wasn’t twelve any longer. She could handle herself better this time. She didn’t want to look like a fool in front of him. Not when he looked so very perfect.
“First I think I would like to rest,” she suggested, putting reality off a little while longer. When the time came, she’d go with him and she’d do just fine. “It has been a long flight and drive.”
“Very well. While you are resting, I’ll see what I can find out about this mistaken reservation.”
His insistence that she was wrong grated. “Mr. Mendoza …”
He paused by the door and looked back at her. “Yes?”
She gave him her sweetest smile. “I appreciate you accommodating me during an inconvenient time for you. I do apologize for the disruption.”
She tried a smile, an olive branch to smooth the way for the next few days. She knew that aggravating one’s host— especially a host who was already less than cordial—wasn’t the way to get the best service.
“Dinner is at seven,” he replied, unsmiling, and shut the door behind him.
In a fit of juvenile satisfaction, Sophia stuck her tongue out at the door before collapsing on the bed.
CHAPTER TWO
TOMAS had planned on a quick meal for one tonight but instead found himself making locro—a stew of beans, meat, corn and pumpkin. It was simple enough to make and something typically Argentinian for his guest.
Guest. He snorted, stirring the stew. What a mix-up. The first thing he’d done was check the books, but no notation had been made next to the name Antoine Doucette. Then he’d called Miguel’s number in Córdoba. Maria remembered the reservation, but couldn’t remember if she’d cancelled it. Tomas hadn’t pushed; Maria was still traumatized by the fire. When Miguel had suggested they visit, Tomas and Carlos had agreed it would be good for Maria to get away for a few days. Tomas wanted her to see things nearly as good as new when she came back. The spa building had to be reconstructed, but the other outbuildings were nearly repaired. If things went well, they could even have the pool refilled and working in another week.
But it was Maria’s words to him today that had caused him the most trouble. He’d explained the situation and Maria had instantly been sympathetic to Sophia’s plight. “Take care of that girl, Tomas,” she said firmly. Then she’d laughed. “She must be a real firecracker to take her honeymoon alone. She’s your responsibility now. You will see to things until we return.”
As if he needed reminding. He chopped into the pumpkin, scowling. Maria had been mothering him for so long that she sometimes forgot he was a grown man. He knew what his responsibilities were. They were impossible to forget.
“We’ll sort the rest out when Carlos and I come back. Maybe we’ll come Wednesday now.”
“There’s no need …”
But Maria had laughed. “She will be tired of your cooking by then. Wednesday. Just be nice, Tomas.”
“I would never …”
“Yes, you would.” Maria had laughed, but he knew she meant it. Maria and her family knew Tomas better than anyone else on earth. Too well.
Wednesday. That meant he had three days after today in which he not only had to do his work, but had to entertain Sophia as well. She’d put on a brave face, but he knew she had been expecting something totally different from what she was getting. He indulged in a half smile, but then remembered the look on her face when she’d thought he was going to send her away. She had been afraid behind all the lipstick and talk. And he had been just stupid enough to see it and go soft.
He turned down the heat and put the cover on to let the locro simmer. Going soft wasn’t an option for him right now. The estancia wasn’t due to reopen for another few weeks. There was still work to do—and lots of it. The boutique had to be restocked now that it was painted. The horses and the small beef herd Carlos raised still needed to be cared for. The storage shed behind the barn had been rebuilt since the fire, but the paint for the exterior was sitting in the barn, waiting for Tomas to have a few spare moments. As if. And the builders had had another job lined up, which was why it was taking longer for the pool house to be rebuilt.
With Carlos here, they could have muddled through just fine. But they’d agreed that getting Maria away for a few days—letting her visit her son—was a better course of action.
Tomas simply hadn’t counted on babysitting a spoiled princess and playing cook and maid. That was normally Maria’s area of expertise, and he and Carlos stuck to the outdoors. The estancia was a business that ran smoothly, just the way they’d planned, with everyone playing to their strengths. He could stay in the background, exactly where he liked it. He was polite and friendly to guests. They were only strangers passing through, asking nothing more from him than a trail ride and some local history. They made the same mistake Sophia had made today—assuming he was the jack-of-all-trades around the place. That was fine, too. He stayed a silent partner in Vista del Cielo and got the peace and isolation he craved. Carlos and Maria had their livelihood. Everyone was taken care of.
He heard a noise from down the hall and guessed that the princess was waking from her slumbers. He imagined briefly what she would look like asleep on the blue coverlet, her hair spread out in a great auburn curtain around her. He shook his head and reached for a pair of bowls from the cupboard. There was no denying she was beautiful. Stunning, actually, with her dark red curls and roses-and-cream complexion. Maybe she had a sense of entitlement about her and was used to getting her own way, but he could see why. She’d turned her dark eyes on him and said she was tired and he’d left her to nap without a word. Now he was finishing dinner and setting the table when the whole purpose of this place was for everyone to work together. It was one of their biggest selling points. A feeling of family.
And that was something he had no desire to feel with Sophia Hollingsworth.
“Something smells delicious.”
He nearly dropped the bowls when she appeared in the doorway behind him.
Her hair was down but slightly tousled from sleep, the curls falling softly over one shoulder. Heavy lidded eyes blinked at him and she was several inches shorter, thanks to the fact that she’d left her shoes in her room and appeared in bare feet. That was why he hadn’t heard her approach. His gaze stuck on ten perfectly painted coral toenails. She
