Read Online Best Kept Secrets by Rochelle Alers - Free Book Online Page B

not old, Papa.”
    “Are you now a mentirosa? ”
    “I’m not lying, Papa. You’re only sixty-four.”
    “Sixty-four is old. I should be a grandfather already.”
    “That can happen if you stop trying to control my life.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “You want children?” She nodded, smiling. “But I thought you wanted to be a libertine like your aunt.”
    “I want to marry and have children, but I also want to control my destiny. I want a husband who thinks of me as his partner and not as his possession. I don’t want my children hampered by archaic laws or customs that will limit their success.”
    Jose Luis kissed her forehead. “You are so young and so very idealistic, Chica .” He kissed her again. “We’ll talk again later—after you’ve made preparations for your American houseguest.”
    “Thank you, Papa. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” M.J.crooned as she raced out of the library, then slowed considerably when she spied one of the gardeners. She inclined her head when he stepped aside to let her pass him as she sought out the housekeeper. Unconsciously, she’d slipped smoothly back into her role as mistress of the house.
     
    M.J. stood in the doorway, mixed emotions of anticipation and jealousy gripping her as she watched Samuel Cole with her aunt, who’d rested a hand on his shoulder while smiling adoringly up at him.
    She’d spent the past four weeks trying to recall everything about him and failed—miserably. Samuel had changed. He appeared taller, slimmer, his face several shades darker. He reminded her of a well-to-do Cubano with his Panama hat, tan lightweight suit, stark-white shirt, brown necktie and coordinating tan-and-white shoes.
    She held her breath, watching as he came closer and closer until he stood less than three feet away. His warmth, his smell, and the way he’d angled his head while staring at her, made her feel things she did not want to feel—at that moment. Her heart fluttered in her chest like the delicate wings of the caged birds in her father’s library.
    She offered him her right hand. “ Bienvenido , Senor Cole.”
    Samuel removed his hat and cradled her hand, kissing the back of it. “ Gracias , Senorita Diaz.”
    M.J. gave him her winning smile. “Did you enjoy Costa Rica?”
    “Si.”
    Her smile widened with his attempt to speak Spanish. “I hope your visit met with success.”
    “It was bueno ,” he said, releasing her hand, “and before you ask me anything else, let me tell you that my entire Spanish vocabulary consists of all of ten words.”
    “Which means you’ll still need a tutor.”
    Samuel found it impossible to look away from the womanwho unknowingly had cast a spell over him. Staring at her in the daylight was like a punch to his midsection. He couldn’t breathe or swallow without experiencing pain—pleasurable pain. Intelligent, sensual and ardently feminine, Marguerite-Josefina Diaz possessed all he admired in a woman.
    “ Sí , Senorita Diaz.”
    Gloria frowned at Samuel. “Do you plan to spend the rest of your life calling my niece Senorita Diaz?”
    “Tia!”
    Fifty-eight-year-old Gloria glared at M.J. “I did not leave Havana to watch you react to him like a convent novice,” she chastised in rapid Spanish. Like quicksilver, her mood changed and she smiled sweetly at Samuel. “It’s time for siesta,” she said, switching fluidly to English. “M.J. will show you to your room. Don’t worry about your luggage. Someone will bring it up to you.”
    M.J. threaded her fingers through Samuel’s. “How long can you stay?”
    He went completely still, his gaze fusing with hers. “How long do you want me to stay, M.J.?”
    “Long enough for us to become friends.”
    Samuel’s solemn expression did not change. “That shouldn’t take too long. Three days should do it.”
    Her delicate jaw dropped. “Three days?”
    “Is that too long?”
    “No! It’s not long enough.”
    He squeezed her fingers. “If that’s the case, then