“I’m not sorry,” he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “Not for the talk and not for the kiss.”
“Me either,” she admitted, though she knew she probably shouldn’t.
Emilia came out of the bedroom, stretching and yawning loudly enough that Diego immediately dropped Rose’s hand.
“Tio Diego?”
“Si, Emilia?”
She came over and crawled up on his lap. She looked at Rose, then back at her uncle. “The girl today,” she said, choosing English. “She was very nice. No one mentions Mama or Mariana. Sometimes I want to talk about them.”
Diego met Rose’s gaze, and she smiled back at him. She was glad they’d talked. Maybe now he was better equipped to talk to Emilia about this. The distraction of the trip to the city was over, and real conversations had to happen.
“I miss them too, chiquita,” he answered, snuggling her close.
“Papa won’t talk about Mama. But I don’t want to forget about her. She . . .” Emilia’s lip quivered and she started to cry a little.
“You will never forget her,” Diego assured her. “Your Papa misses her a lot too. It hurts him to talk about her, but it won’t always. And you can talk to me or Miss Rose whenever you like.”
“But you always go away,” she answered, picking at a fingernail and sniffling.
“Not now,” he said firmly. “I’m doing everything I need to from here, so I can spend more time with you and Max.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
She hesitated for a moment, as if deliberating if she should speak or not. When she did, it was in Spanish, and Rose picked out Mariana’s name, and her own, and amo—the Spanish word for love.
Whatever she’d said, Diego kissed the top of her head and smiled as he answered her back. To Rose’s surprise, Emilia crawled off Diego’s lap and stepped over to Rose and hugged her.
“Gracias, Emilia,” Rose said, squeezing her in return.
“May I watch a movie?” Emilia asked.
Rose agreed. “Tea will be here soon, too.”
Emilia found a DVD and, in the way of all young children, knew how to turn everything on and set it up to play. Diego stood, preparing to leave, and Max came tottering out of the bedroom at the sound of the movie.
“You don’t want to stay for tea?” Rose asked Diego, following him to the door.
“I’ve got work to do tonight. I’ve had to start delegating with some of the charity duties. I can’t put off travel indefinitely, but for now I’m managing.”
Rose paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Do they know how hard you work? Or do they think you just play?”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned, and she knew the answer. Diego the playboy. She felt annoyed on his behalf, but this wasn’t her battle to fight.
“Thank you for today. We all needed it. It was a lot of fun.”
“Well, if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s have fun. Ask anybody.”
“Diego,” she chided softly.
She was gazing into his eyes again when a maid came down the hall bearing the tea tray. Rose backed off and Diego bid her a far more formal goodbye than he normally would have. So he too was worried about appearances, she thought.
Tea was served, and Rose sat on the sofa with two very mellow children, one on either side of her.
But what she was thinking about was the feel of Diego’s lips on hers, his fingers on her face, and how it was completely impossible.