"Nino, please, just-"
"I said no, Michelle, and I meant no. Dammit, what part of that don't you get, huh?"
Nino is getting dressed as I sit on our bed, pleading with him not to go to the Santos house for another "meeting" with Vince and Danny.
"You know this meeting is important to me, honey," Nino says, his voice turning softer as he meets my eyes in the mirror.
"I know," I reply, defeated. Ever since my "encounter" with Danny in the wine cellar I've become almost obsessed with getting as much space as possible between me and him.
And Nino going over to his house yet again isn't helping.
"I'll be back by ten," Nino promises as he kisses my temple. "Then you can show me how much you missed me."
I smile weakly. "Okay."
I wait until I hear his car start to start crying,
God, how did everything get so damn screwed up? It wasn't supposed to be like this. Nino and I had gone through so much together and we were supposed to get a happy ending. We were supposed to ride happily off into the sunset.
Instead, Nino is getting deeper and deeper into a situation I don't think he can handle and I'm...hell, I don't know what I'm doing.
Danny Santos has taken up permanent residence in my thoughts. During the day, my mind plays our encounters over and over again. I can be driving to Rick's or washing the dishes or studying, but he's always there. Always.
And at night...at night the memories dissolve into fantasies that leave me awake and gasping.
Nino has no idea what's going on. Of that I'm sure. He's not the type to sit quietly on something like that.
I rub my eyes. and get off the bed just as the phone rings. My heart jumps a little and I wonder if it's him. Danny.
I wonder that every time it rings and, so far, it never has been him.
This time is no different, but I'm still surprised by the caller.
"Vince?"
"Hey, beautiful, is your lesser half around?"
"Nino?" I ask stupidly.
Vince laughs, or makes some semblance of the sound. "You got another husband I don't know about, Michelle?"
Briefly, my mind flies to Danny's comments about how I'm not married to Nino in my heart and soul. I shake those thoughts off.
"No, it's just...it's just that Nino's supposed to be with you."
"Not tonight, he's not."
Panic flutters through me like a bird beating its wings in a cage. "He said he was meeting you and Danny at the Santos house."
"Well, maybe Nino is meeting Danny, but I'm sure as hell not there."
My knees go weak and I sink back on the bed. "Nino's meeting with Danny alone?"
"Sure looks that way."
"But...why? Why would he lie and say you were going to be there too?"
Vince clears his throat. "Maybe he didn't want you to know what he and Danny were really talking about, cause it's obviously not the job."
I feel like I'm going to throw up as I murmur good-bye to Vince and move to my closet. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweater, I try to convince myself that Nino and Danny couldn't possibly bear talking about me.
Nino doesn't know. He can't. And besides, nothing has really happened with Danny.
Yet.
I'm shaking as I get in the car and begin to long drive to the Santos mansion.
The guard at the gate gives me a strange look when I say I'm Mrs. Nino Rivera, but he let me in anyway. I marvel at the house as I pull up in the circular drive. Bernard's house is huge and ostentatious, but this place is a palace. I step out of the car and don't know if it's the chill in the air or the foreboding look of the place that makes me shiver.
Not really knowing where to start, I move around to the right side of the house. I notice a little wrought iron gate. Beyond it, towering trees fade into the shadowy night. I know this must be the garden Danny told me about.
His grandmother's orchard.
I'm tempted to steal inside and get a look at this private place that's so special to Danny, as if I can find out something, anything, about him just by walking where he's walked.
But I walk resolutely past the garden. I have a mission after all.
I see light through a dense group of hedges and walk towards it, rounding a corner and finding myself facing a large veranda.
I see the woman on the veranda first.
She's beautiful, the kind of dark beauty you think only exists on the cover of romance novels.
Her hair is dark brown, her skin, deep gold. I can't see her eyes, but I know they'll be black. She's wearing a silk robe of rich pink, the same color as her lips. Those lips are titled in a smug, knowing smile as she looks down at whoever it is standing on the steps below her. I edge around the corner a little more, careful not to reveal myself.
Curiosity and jealously swirl through me, a combination of black and green.
Like Danny's eyes.
It must be Danny those rose lips are smiling at. I know that, but am unprepared for how much the thought hurts.
I brace myself for the impact of seeing those lips come down on Danny's as she leans down and I scoot forward.
And see her wrap herself around Nino.
I can't even gasp. I feel like I can't breathe. All I can do is stare as my husband kisses this woman in a way he's never kissed me. He scoops her up and her laugh is soft and musical. It's the laugh of a woman in love and it splinters my heart. I watch as Nino carries her inside and stand there in the darkness, shivering and seething before finally having the sense to turn and run.
Tears blind me and my hair is whipping in my face, but I make my way unerringly to the orchard gate and rush into it's comforting darkness.
I run until my the breath sawing out of my lungs hurts and my knees collapse. I sit on my knees, sobbing, feeling the damp earth seep into the knees of my jeans. I lean forward and my elbows come to rest on something cool and solid. I look up and see I'm kneeling in front of a small, but ornately carved stone bench.
Danny's bench.
Ana's bench.
Ana, whom Danny loved and Nino killed.
A fresh wave of misery sweeps over me and I lay my cheek against it's cool surface, like a child leaning against it's mother's breast.
I know the second he walks up behind me.
"I guess you found out."
I close my eyes at the sound of Danny's voice. "Who is she?" I say in a voice made hoarse by tears.
"My sister,Pilar." Danny sighs as he sits down in front of me.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask raising my eyes to his.
He shrugs. "You never asked. Besides, I figured you must have known what kind of man you married, Mrs. Rivera."
"Don't call me that!" I snap.
"What would you prefer me call you?" he asks in that silky voice I know, and fear, so well.
He leans down and brushes my cheek with his thumb. I instinctively sway towards him. "Michelle?"
"Yes," I murmur and he runs his fingers over my lips. "Call me Michelle.
He's off the bench now and kneeling in front of me.
"Michelle," he repeats and his tone makes me look up at him. "Ahh, Michelle, why do you do this to me?"
"Do what?" I ask, tears still trickling, but a strange sense of elation roaring through me.
"This," he replies huskily and takes my mouth with his.
I don't even try to fight. There's no use.
Instead, I cling to him,opening my lips under his. Every cell in my body is quivering and everything seems to be swirling around me.
His hands travel over my hips and under my sweater. When they find my breasts, I arch against him and hear a low moan come out of my throat. His lips on mine are alomst frantic and I match his ardor, wanting him so much I feel like I'll die from it.
"Danny," I murmur as his lips travel down my neck. "You were right. You were right."
"About what?" he asks, muffled.
"I do want you. I do. And I can't fight it. Not tonight."
His head snaps up. "Not tonight?"
He stands up, his breath coming fast and his eyes glaring. "I see. So now that you now Nino's screwing my sister, you're welcoming me into your bed with open arms, is that it?"
There's truth in his words, but I won't admit it.
"Go to hell," I spit out as I rise, jerking my sweater back into place. "You don't know me, so don't assume you now what I'm feeling tonight."
"I know what you're feeling," he says scornfully. "Trust me, I know."
I remember Ana and feel and brief spark of pity, but I stamp it out.
"Fine." I retort. "Then you're right. I wanted you for revenge. I wanted to prove something to Nino and to myself."
His eyes flash, but he doesn't respond.
I half expect him to follow me when I storm out of the garden.
When he doesn't, I tell myself that what I feel is relief, certainly not disappointment.