His Temporary Wife by Leslie P. García Page A

alone
     stiffened her resolve. She’d spent her lifetime confronting dislike, only occasionally
     from anything she’d done.
Oh, give me a break. I do occasionally flaunt my pride just a little. And that’s when
     I’m being the lovable me.
She was grinning a little at the self admission when the door opened and Marie stepped
     out, not even faking a smile.
    “Ms. Salinas. Mr. Benton didn’t tell me you were coming back.”
    “He didn’t know. Where can I find him?”
    “He isn’t here.” The woman cast a glance around almost as if expecting him to appear
     suddenly and steal her control. “I’ll take a message—”
    “Where can I find him?” Esme repeated. “Because I left my phone in my truck and I
     can call him, but since he invited me …”
    Marie colored a little, not missing the emphasis on who had called whom. “He’s down
     at the river,” she said, sweeping a glance over Esme’s still unchanged attire. “But
     it’s steep and dirty there. You probably should wait. I’ll call him.”
    “I can do that. I’m sure he’ll give me directions.”
    Marie’s face grew redder and tighter. “You follow the trail there—it runs across the
     pasture and into the tree line. Just follow it until you find him.” She spat the words
     out with a drumming cadence meant to intimidate. “This ranch has livestock, Ms. Salinas.
     If you open a gate, close it. And don’t run over the dogs.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Esme said, and Marie stared at her a moment more before slamming back
     into the house.
    Esme was still grinning by the time the truck jolted over another root-filled crevice
     in the path down to the river and she saw Rafael’s truck parked at an angle where
     the path ended. She pulled the truck up beside it and slid out, pulling her skirt
     down and casting a dubious glance at her heels. She’d be amazed if they held up to
     much more hiking around over stones, exposed roots, and …
    A lizard skittered over her foot, and she shrieked and kicked, startled, and somehow
     wound up on her butt in the dirt by the truck. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw
     a flash of gold and heard barking that sounded more like rolling thunder. She hadn’t
     seen Rafael, but she’d certainly found his dogs. Or they’d found her. They were standing,
     splay-legged, heads down, clearly being protective of someone. She’d never thought
     of Danes as dangerous, but from her position, they were sooo big.
    What were their names? Luc and—
    “Good boys. Good Luc …”
    One of the dogs stopped barking and tilted his head.
    “Chief, Luc. Stop!” She heard Rafael before she saw him. The dogs heard him, too,
     and immediately came up to her, tails wagging, now completely willing to be friendly.
     She raised an arm to fend it off, but one of the Danes managed a quick slap of its
     tongue across her face.
    “Yuck!” she muttered, dragging her arm over her mouth. “Idiot dog!” The dogs didn’t
     look abashed, though, and she heard Rafael laughing.
    “I’m sorry.” He chuckled as he pushed the Danes away and reached down to help her
     up. “I couldn’t help remembering that little girl in the
Peanuts
cartoon—the one who hated it when the dog kissed her.”
    In spite of herself, Esmeralda smiled a little, remembering the ongoing gag. When
     Rafael’s hand closed around hers and eased her up, she tried to ignore the warmth
     and strength of his fingers locking hers inside his hand, or the way he reached out
     with his other hand to support her arm as she stood, setting off tiny sparks of heat
     where his skin met hers.
    “Marie should have let me know you were coming,” he said, noting her disheveled clothing.
     “I’d have made sure the dogs behaved. Are you okay? You didn’t … sit down too hard?”
     In spite of the concern in his eyes, she saw his dimples appear and heard a note of
     amusement in his voice.
    “I sat down plenty hard. I’m not sure how you judge too hard,” she retorted.