Best Kept Secrets (25 page)

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Authors: Rochelle Alers

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Turning, he smiled at M.J. She was dressed for bed. “I just came to look in on the kids.”

M.J. folded her arms under her breasts. She wanted to scream at Samuel that if he didn’t spend all day and half the night at his office, then he’d be able to see his children before they were bedded down for the night. But she held her tongue because arguing with Samuel would not change who he was or what he’d become.

He didn’t interfere with her decision as to how to run their household and rear their children, so she’d decided to compromise: she would not question the drive it took for him to maintain his status as a successful businessman.

“I put them to bed early because they didn’t take a nap today.”

Samuel walked toward M.J., caught her chin and brushed a kiss over her parted lips. “Are they giving you a hard time?”

Shaking her head, she smiled. “No. They’re good children.”

He led her out of the nursery, past Martin’s bedroom and into their suite of rooms. “They’re good because you give in to their every whim. You’re spoiling them, darling.”

“And you don’t?” M.J. countered.

He lifted his eyebrows. “No.”

M.J. sucked her teeth. “That’s horse stuff, Sammy.”

“Don’t you mean horseshit?”

“No. I don’t want our children growing up using bad language.”

“Either they hear it at home or they’ll pick it up once they go out into the world. Take your pick.”

“I’d rather they not use it at all.” Rising on tiptoe, M.J. kissed him. “Come to bed.”

Samuel looped an arm around her waist, smiling and pulling her closer. “As soon as I shower, I’ll join you.”

M.J. nuzzled his throat, her breath warm and sweet. “I’ll be waiting,
mi armor
.”

His smile became a full grin. It had been more than a week since they’d made love to each other. That always foretold of a coming together that was certain to be passionate, unrestrained, wherein they bared their souls and held nothing back.

 

“Sammy, get up or you’re going to be late for work.”

Samuel burrowed deeper into the pillow. “I’m not going.”

M.J. placed a cool hand on his bare shoulder. “Are you not feeling well?”

Groaning, he wanted her to go away and let him sleep. “I’m okay. I’m taking a few days off.”

“Why?” she asked close to his ear.

Rolling over on his back, Samuel glared up at his wife. “Damn it, woman! I didn’t know I had to get your permission to stay home.”

Shrieking, M.J. jumped on him, her arms going around his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

A smile replaced Samuel’s frown. “I tried, but you told me not to talk.”

M.J. had been insatiable, her desire matching and surpassing his when they made love using every inch of the large bed. She’d screamed, cried, moaned and begged him not to stop. And he didn’t, not until both were sated. They fell asleep, limbs entwined, until they woke before dawn and made love again.

“I have something to show you.”

Leaning over to the table on his side of the bed, he opened the leather case and took out the pages Teresa had translated and typed. She’d surprised him when she’d transcribed his con
versation with Ibrahim Salazar in English and in Spanish. He handed the Spanish copy to M.J.

Samuel watched for a reaction from his wife, but there was none as she read the typed ages. She finished, then smiled. “I didn’t know Papa had so much money.”

“I had no idea he wanted me to handle your money.”

M.J. shifted, sitting on Samuel’s lap as his arms circled her waist. “It’s not my money, darling. It’s ours. Yours, mine and our children’s.” Samuel closed his eyes, enjoying the pressure of the soft body curving into his. He’d made it, had accomplished all the objectives on his wish list, but it was of little consequence because Charles Cole wasn’t alive to witness his youngest son’s success.

 

“Ay, Dios mio,”
Teresa whispered under her breath. “I didn’t know he lived in a mansion.”

Liliana Martinez leaned forward on the rear seat of the taxi, handing the taxi driver his fare. Her warm brown eyes sparkled with excitement. “Let’s go,
muchacha
, I want to see up close how the rich live.”

When Teresa had asked Liliana to come to an Independence Day celebration at her boss’s house, she’d jumped at the opportunity to spend time away from her own home. Since her grandmother and three cousins had come from Cuba to live with her family, she’d felt smothered. Twelve people living together in a small three-bedroom house made her resent the lack of privacy.

The two women stepped out of the taxi and walked to the entrance. A solid brass door knocker, shaped in the head of a lion, rested against a gleaming black door. Teresa knocked twice. The door opened and a Negro woman wearing a pale pink uniform smiled at them.

“Please, come in.”

Teresa gave Liliana a sidelong glance as they followed the
woman through an entryway with a ceiling rising thirty feet to a clerestory window through which pinpoints of light shimmered off a black slate floor like diamonds. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she felt the constriction in her chest. She could not have imagined living in a house like the one Samuel Cole occupied with his wife and children. The small house where she lived with her parents and two brothers could fit into the Cole mansion four times. The house wasn’t a home—it was a showplace.

Teresa and Liliana walked through a door at the rear of the house and were met with a plethora of sounds and smells. Dozens of people sat at long tables under three large white tents. Teresa searched the crowd for Samuel and found him holding a small child as he shared a laugh with Everett Kirkland.

She affixed a smile she’d practiced over and over, and made her way over to him. It wasn’t until she was less than five feet away that Samuel noticed her. His laughter faded as his eyes widened. Teresa was hard-pressed not to laugh aloud. She’d achieved the reaction she sought from her boss. The white slip-dress in delicate georgette banded in satin with a handkerchief hem skimmed her petite curvy body. She hadn’t pinned up her hair and it floated around her shoulders like a pale mane.

Samuel shifted Nancy from one arm to the other, extending his right hand to Teresa. “Welcome. I’m glad you could come.”

She shook his hand and leaned forward. The gesture elicited the response she sought when Samuel’s gaze lingered briefly on the soft swell of her breasts rising above the revealing décolletage. The shopkeeper who’d sold her the garment said it was perfect for an afternoon garden party. What the woman didn’t know was that it was the perfect dress for seduction.

“Thank you, Mr. Cole, for inviting me.”

Samuel released her hand. “None of that Mr. Cole today. We’re not at the office.” He glanced over her head. “Did you bring someone with you?”

Throwing back her head, silver-blond hair sweeping over her bared shoulders, Teresa smiled up at her boss through a fringe of long lashes. “I brought my best friend.” She beckoned to Liliana. “Liliana, this is my boss, Samuel Cole. Samuel, Liliana Martinez.”

Liliana smiled at the man whom Teresa could not stop talking about. Dressed in a white
guayabera
, linen walking shorts, sandals and a Panama hat, he looked nothing like the wealthy man Teresa bragged about who wore custom-made suits, shirts and imported footwear. His dark eyes were friendly, his smile warm and genuine. She found that he wasn’t as good-looking as he was attractive. What she did not understand was how her friend could fantasize about a man who wore a wedding ring.

Samuel nodded to the young woman who’d come with his clerk. Her round, brown face was framed with a profusion of short black curls that gave her a doll-like look. “Welcome, Liliana.”

Teresa rested an arm over Liliana’s shoulder. “This is Everett Kirkland. We also work together. Everett, my friend Liliana.”

Liliana offered Everett her hand, smiling up at him. This man was someone she could like. His gold eyes with their dark brown centers were mesmerizing, and, unlike Samuel Cole, he did not wear a wedding band.

“My pleasure, Everett.”

He did not release her hand, tucking it into the bend of his elbow. “Are you hungry, Liliana?”

Angling her head, she flashed an attracted moue. “Starved.”

Teresa watched Everett lead her friend to a table and seat her. She shifted her gaze back to Samuel. “Is this your daughter?”

Samuel patted the back of the little girl who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. “Yes. This is Mistress Nancy, who happens to be the indisputable boss in the family.”

Green eyes narrowed as they moved slowly over the young child in Samuel’s arms. Black curls clung to her moist forehead, and although asleep she continued to suck the thumb she’d pushed into her mouth.

“She’s beautiful, Samuel.”

“Thank you, Teresa.”

His gaze lingered on Teresa Maldonado as if seeing her for the first time. And it was the first time he’d seen her hair loose, and so much of her body exposed. When she was at the office her hair was always fashioned into a bun. Her business attire was white sailor-type blouses, dark skirts and functional leather shoes.

He forced himself not to stare at her when he spied M.J. talking to Belinda. His mother, brothers, sisters-in-law and two young nieces had come from Tallahassee to spend the holiday weekend in West Palm Beach.

M.J. had softened considerably when she’d extended invitations to those who’d ostracized her when they’d lived in Palm Grove Oval. He got to see another side of his wife’s personality when she led them in and out of rooms in the opulently decorated house like a tour guide in a museum. Marguerite-Josefina Cole had exhibited a charm that would’ve made her father proud. It was unfortunate that Jose Luis hadn’t lived long enough to see his daughter display the grace and deportment befitting a woman of her station.

“Come, Teresa. I want to introduce you to my wife.”

Turning around, Teresa looked for the woman who claimed the man she wanted as her own. Her heart sank when she saw her. The child Samuel held to his heart had the same delicate features as the woman coming in their direction. Dressed in a pale yellow shirtwaist dress and matching straw hat that protected her face from the sun, she was tall, slender, with a hypnotic dimpled smile and black hair tied with a yellow satin ribbon that touched her waist. Teresa found Samuel’s wife stunning!

M.J. wound an arm through Samuel’s. “Why don’t you give me Nancy so that I can put her to bed?”

Lowering his head, Samuel kissed M.J.’s cheek. “I’ll put her to bed, but first I’d like you to meet the person who translated
Ibrahim’s telephone call. Teresa, this is my wife, Marguerite-Josefina. M.J., Teresa Maldonado.”

M.J. smiled at Teresa. “
Hola
,” she said in Spanish. “My husband has been singing your praises,” she continued in the language. “He says you’re an invaluable employee.”

Teresa felt her pulse accelerate. Samuel had told his wife about her! She hadn’t been able to tell what Marguerite-Josefina was when she’d first looked at her photograph, thinking perhaps she could have been a member of one of the Indian tribes from Florida, but when she heard her speak she knew she was Cuban. Again, she found it hard not to laugh. It was apparent Samuel Cole was attracted to Cuban women.

“You and your husband are very kind,” she said shyly, “to invite me to your home. And working for ColeDiz is like a dream come true.”

“I hope Samuel isn’t working you too hard.”

A wave of heat swept up Teresa’s neck to her hairline. “Oh no, Mrs. Cole. Your husband is a wonderful boss.”

Samuel winked at M.J. “Please make certain Teresa gets something to eat. I’ll introduce her to everyone after I put Nancy to bed.”

A warm glow flowed through Teresa, and it had nothing to do with the heat of the day. Samuel wanted to make the introductions, which meant she was special, special enough for him to have spoken of her to his wife.

And she knew there was something special about Samuel the instant she saw him. He embodied everything she wanted in a man, and there was nothing or no one that could stop her from having him.

Chapter 23

Woe be to them that for a loved one must wait in longing.

—Anonymous

T
eresa sat with her feet on the seat of the wooden rocker, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring at lightning bugs through the mesh of the screened-in porch. “What do you think of him, Liliana?”

Liliana lay on a discarded sofa that had once graced her family’s living room. It had become her bed because she didn’t want to share her bedroom with three younger girl cousins.

“Everett Kirkland?”

“No, silly. Samuel Cole.”

“What’s there to think about? He’s rich
and
he’s married.”

“Don’t you think he’s cute?”

Liliana rolled her eyes. “He’s too old to be cute.”

“He’s only thirty.”

“And, he’s too old for you, Teresa. You’re only nineteen, and may I add, a virgin? And why would you want a married man? Your Samuel Cole is not going to leave his wife for you. All you have to do is look at her and see that.”

Teresa lowered her bare feet to the wooden floorboards. “Are you saying she’s prettier than I am?”

“No, I’m not.” Liliana sat up, glaring at her best friend and neighbor. “What’s wrong with you? You’re pretty and smart, and you hope to be a nurse one day. Don’t ruin your life wishing for something that is not going to happen,
muchacha
. Why would Samuel Cole want you when he has a wife, a wife he’s in love with?”

“How do you know that?”

“Did you see how they looked at each other?”

Teresa pushed out her lower lip. “No.”

“That’s because you don’t want to see what is so obvious between them. They are in love.” Moving off the sofa, she sat on the floor in front of the rocker. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone. Not even the priest I go to for confession.”

Teresa sat down beside Liliana, wondering what it was her friend was hiding. “What is it?”

Her shoulder touching Teresa’s, Liliana closed her eyes. “Please don’t make the same mistake I made, Teresa. I fell for the sweet talk from a man who was betrothed to another. I believed him when he said he didn’t love her, but he had to marry her because their fathers were in business together.

“One night I snuck out of the house to meet him. He gave me something to drink. Then we started kissing, and the next thing I knew he was inside me. I let him make love to me knowing that I could never claim him as my husband. We met a few times after that. It ended when he married his
novia.”

Eyes wide, Teresa stared at Liliana. “Did you get to see him after he married?”

Liliana shook her head. “No. He refused to see me. What he
did was send me a letter saying he was trying to be a faithful husband. He threatened me, saying I must never attempt to contact him again or he would tell everyone that I tried to seduce him.”

“But…but it was he who seduced you.”

“Who do you think people are going to believe?” She stared at the floor. “I trusted him and he deceived me. I don’t ever want to get married.”

Wrapping her arms around Liliana’s waist, Teresa shook her head. “Don’t say that.”

“What? That I am not soiled? Men want to marry women who come to them untouched.”

“You can’t tell me that all couples wait until their wedding night to sleep together. It’s not the way it used to be, Liliana,” she argued softly so as not to be overheard by those inside the house. “Have you heard of Margaret Sanger?” Liliana shook her head. “She is a pioneer in birth control for women. She helped organize the first international birth-control conference less than two years ago. This means you can sleep with a man and not get pregnant.”

“Why would I want to sleep with a man?”

“Did you not enjoy your friend?”

A dreamy expression softened Liliana’s lush mouth. “After the first time it was wonderful.”

“And it could be wonderful again if you decide you want to have an affair with a man.”

“Why would I want to have an affair?”

“Why not?” Teresa asked, answering Liliana’s question with one of her own. “Don’t men have them?”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing,” Teresa interrupted. “We are Cuban, but we are also American women. We vote, go to college in greater numbers than years ago, work outside the home, and now we can control our own bodies.”

“But we’re so different from men,” Liliana argued quietly.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“The only thing that is different is physiology. They may be stronger, but that’s it. I’m willing to bet you that I can get Samuel Cole to marry me.”

Liliana let out a loud gasp. “No, Teresa. What you plan to do is a sin.”

“And what you did wasn’t?”

“No. We weren’t married when we shared a bed. Samuel is married, and it’s not like you don’t know that he is.”

Teresa’s expression hardened, becoming a mask of stone while her eyes narrowed to cold green slits. “I don’t care. I want him, and I’ll do anything to get him.”

Liliana crossed her chest and said a silent prayer for Teresa. When she went to church on Sunday she would light a candle for her friend. Teresa Maldonado had everything she could wish for, so why would she embark on an undertaking where the result was certain to end in disaster and heartbreak for her?

Pushing off the floor, she returned to the sofa. Lying down, she rested her head on folded arms and stared up at the peeling porch ceiling. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“No. I have the day off. What about you?”

Liliana worked at a hotel in the housekeeping department. “I have to go in from eight to six.”

“Do you want to go out dancing after you come home?”

“Sure.”

Even though she knew she would be exhausted from mopping floors, cleaning bathrooms and making beds, Liliana preferred going out to staying home where she couldn’t linger in the bathroom because someone was always knocking on the door.

Teresa stood up and walked down the porch steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Adios,”
Liliana whispered long after her neighbor returned to her house where she didn’t have to share her bed or bedroom.

She’d always thought that Teresa was the more levelheaded of the two of them, but her quest to take a married man away from his wife was crazy. She hoped her best friend would come to her senses before it was too late.

Liliana thought Everett Kirkland was a better choice for Teresa. He was intelligent, single, and he was Samuel Cole’s right-hand man. And with his gold eyes and her green ones, there was no doubt their children would have extraordinary looks. She’d wait before she’d try to convince Teresa to shift her attention from Samuel Cole to the controller of ColeDiz International, Ltd.

 

Samuel glanced at the clock on his desk. It was minutes before six. Pressing a button on the intercom, he waited for his secretary’s voice. Mrs. Harris never left the office before her scheduled six o’clock departure.

“Yes, Mr. Cole?”

“Is Teresa still here?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Please send her in.”

Teresa appeared in the doorway, pencil and pad in hand. “Yes, Mr. Cole?”

She still favored white blouses and dark skirts, but the bun was missing, in its place a mane of pale hair tied back with a black ribbon. Today she looked like a schoolgirl.

He beckoned to her. “Please come in. I need you to take down a letter in Spanish.”

Her gaze was steady as she walked into the office and sat down on the chair she’d occupied the week before. Everything that was Samuel Cole swept over her, and she pressed her knees together to still the unexpected pulsing at the apex of her thighs. Liliana had tried unsuccessfully to convince her to let go of her pursuit of Samuel, but she would not relent.

“Do you want me to type it tonight?”

He gave her a direct look. “Yes. I’ll pay you extra, and make certain you get home.”

She wrote down the date, using her shorthand symbols. “I’m ready.”

Leaning back in his chair, Samuel rested his hands on the arms and stared at Teresa’s bowed head. Her hair was more silver than blond, which made the contrast between it and her golden-brown complexion more startling. However, it was her eyes that held him spellbound. The color changed with her moods from a pale near-transparent green to a darker, almost moody, emerald hue.

“This letter goes to Senor Juan Redondo at the Mexican National Association of Coffee Exchange. I am in receipt of your report on the recent harvest of the
maragogype
bean. I have also received reports from the broker, and from a variety of tasters.

“The beans were compared to those from Brazil, Cameroon, Colombia, Costa Rica and Kenya. The result is a flavor that is smooth and fragrant with good, mellow depth, good to excellent acidity and balance, and excellent as a high roast.

“Currently the average yield is about 560 pounds per acre, and at this time I cannot honor your request to increase planting. Therefore, I am authorizing you to decrease production and the workforce for the next planting season by fifty percent. My conservative stance is predicated on the instability of daily trading on Wall Street. I know you will use the utmost discretion with regard to layoffs. This action should be initiated in stages over the next three months.

“I have scheduled a trip to visit your beautiful country in the coming months. I will contact you prior to my arrival.”

He paused, as did Teresa’s pencil. “Use my usual closing.” Her head came up. “Type a copy for my file, the general file, and one for Everett.”

Nodding, Teresa stood up and walked to the door, feeling the heat of Samuel’s gaze boring into her back. She turned suddenly and caught him staring at her. A hint of a smile parted her lips, and to her surprise he returned it.

Swiveling on the chair and turning his back to the doorway, Samuel stared out the window. Everett was in Costa Rica, and had reported that he’d fired the foreman and evicted him and his family from the main house. The man had offered to give back the money he’d stolen to keep his position, but Everett refused, saying he did not negotiate with thieves. Samuel’s number man wasn’t certain how long it would take him to find a replacement, but hoped it would be soon because of a recent malaria outbreak.

Samuel’s thoughts shifted to the week he hadn’t come into the office. He stayed in bed beyond sunrise, played nonstop with Martin and Nancy, and for the first time in his marriage he helped M.J. in the kitchen. He rolled out crusts for pies and cobblers while she prepared the fillings. Their working together ended when she snapped a towel at him after he pilfered peach slices from a bowl; he picked her up and took her upstairs to their bedroom, stripping her naked in under a minute. Peach and apple pies and cobblers were forgotten when they came together in a passion that had eluded them since they’d celebrated their anniversary.

His family arrived July 3 and stayed the weekend. Belinda was overjoyed having all of her grandchildren together at the same time. She babysat her grandson and three granddaughters Saturday night when their parents went out for dinner and to a movie.

 

Teresa walked into Samuel’s office; she watched him staring out the window. Who or what was he thinking about? She was more than aware that they were the only ones in the office. Everett was out of the country and Mrs. Harris had left for the day.

“Samuel?”

He turned at the sound of his name. If he was surprised that she’d called him by his given name, his expression did not indicate it. “Yes?”

“I’m finished.”

Samuel pushed back the chair, stood up and closed the distance between them. He held out his hand. “Please sit down.” She handed him the letters and envelope, then sat down beside his desk.

Teresa watched Samuel pace as he read what she’d typed. Her gaze caressed the width of his broad shoulders under his shirt, moving down slowly to his trim waist and hips, ending with a pair of highly polished wing tips. She noticed a swagger in his gait as his right foot toed in slightly.

“Did it bother you that I called you Samuel?”

Samuel stopped pacing and stared at the woman sitting next to his desk. “Excuse me?”

Teresa was certain he could hear her pounding heart. She’d opened Pandora’s box, and now she had to deal with what had escaped: brazenness.

Her gaze caught and held his questioning one. “I called you Samuel instead of Mr. Cole. Are you bothered by that?”

Samuel shook his head. “No, Teresa.”

“Will it bother you if I call you Samuel in front of the others in the office?”

Vertical lines appeared between his eyes. “No. Why?”

“It’s just that Mr. Cole sounds so formal for a company this size.”

“Who told you to call me Mr. Cole?”

“Mrs. Harris.”

“If Mrs. Harris says anything to you about calling me Samuel, then tell her I said it’s okay.”

Her smile was one of triumph. She’d broken through the formality. “Thank you.”

Samuel nodded, then went back to reading the letter. It was perfect. There wasn’t one typographical error. “How can I be
certain the Spanish version reads the same as the English?” he said teasingly.

Teresa rose to her feet, smiling. “You’ll just have to take my word that it is the same, won’t you?”

He returned her smile. “You’re right about that.”

She angled her head, baring her throat, bringing his gaze to linger there. “You’re married to a woman who speaks Spanish, yet you don’t know the language.”

“I know a few words, but not enough to carry on an in-depth conversation.”

“I suppose that’s why I was hired,” Teresa said softly. “I’m more than willing to help out whenever you need me.”

An explicable look of withdrawal came across Samuel’s face, and she chided herself for making it seem as if she would be
that
available when it was exactly what she wanted to be. She wanted to be what Marguerite-Josefina was to her husband—and much more.

She wanted to be mistress and wife, mother and confidante. She would willingly travel with him, acting as interpreter, transcribing and typing his reports while providing him with companionship.

Teresa did not know why she’d fallen in love with Samuel, but her heart refused to listen to what her head was telling her. She planned to seduce a man, a married man with children, become pregnant with his child, then issue an ultimatum: leave his wife and marry her. Whether it was vanity or recklessness, she refused to believe he would be able to resist her.

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