Honeymoon With the Rancher

Sophia hopped out, clad in jeans and sneakers and a cotton T-shirt. The air was heavier here, rich with moisture and the scent of the rain forest. She followed Tomas to the entrance of the pathways and wondered if it were possible to absorb each detail, cataloguing each sight and scent and sound into her brain so she could recall it perfectly later.

They hadn’t arrived in Puerto Iguazú until after dinner last night and Tomas had booked them into a hotel. She’d expected awkwardness, but he’d assumed she wanted separate rooms and had booked them next to each other. He’d handed her the keycard and she had tucked it into her pocket, reaching for her carry-on to avoid looking into his face. She would have insisted on her own room anyway, but it still stung that there hadn’t even been a hint of indecision in his eyes. He’d helped her with her bags and without so much as a peck on the cheek or a squeeze of her hand he’d left her to freshen up.

Over dinner he’d given her a little history of the area and this morning he’d pulled out a park map and they’d planned their day while grabbing a quick breakfast.

Absolutely nothing personal. No talking about Rosa, or his family, or the hour of her departure that was racing towards her faster than she wanted to admit. No words about their kisses or anything remotely intimate.

It was driving her absolutely, completely crazy.

She grabbed his arm as they walked down the pathway, sidestepping to avoid a group of German tourists who, like them, were getting an early start.

“Tomas, please,” she whispered, her fingers digging into his arm.

He stopped, looked down at her. Waited.

She had to swallow back the hitch in her breath as she gazed up at him. When had he become everything? Why did this have to happen now, a world away? Even if she did admit her feelings, what good would it do? His life was here. Her family—her life—was in Ottawa. Worlds apart. Tomorrow she’d say goodbye to him forever. The very thought made her feel empty inside, as though a great cavern had opened up, her emotions echoing off the sides. There was no sense fighting her feelings now. The damage was already done.

“What is it?” He reached for her arm, gripping it just below her shoulder, his gaze plumbing hers, searching for answers she didn’t have.

“I just can’t take this…this impersonal way you are with me. Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”

As soon as the words left her mouth she closed her eyes. She was still afraid, after all the progress she’d made. Tomas had been distant and polite ever since the night under the ombu. Her lip quivered. The very moment she had realized her true feelings, he had locked his away.

“No, querida. I am not angry.”

“But you…”

He placed a finger over her lips, halting her words, and then gently touched his mouth to hers, hovering, tasting, their breaths mingling in the humid air of the rain forest.

Tomas felt his heart pound against his ribs as he forced himself to go slowly, gently. Now her lips were parted beneath his and he drank in her flavour, soft and sweet and tasting like strawberry lip gloss.

Reluctantly he pulled away, but he couldn’t shift his gaze away from her face. Her dark eyes were dreamy, the pupils dilated and her lips were full and puffy.

“Tomas…” She murmured his name and he watched, mesmerized, as a bright yellow butterfly paused and perched on a burnished curl of her hair.

“Wait,” he whispered, releasing her. He let the backpack slide from his shoulder and reached in to take out a small camera. “Smile,” he commanded, and he was instantly gratified as her lips curved in a slow, sexy smile.

He snapped the photo and looked at it in the viewfinder, struck by the vivid colours. Her auburn hair, the bloom in her cheeks from being freshly kissed, the depths of her eyes that made her look as if she was sharing a secret with the camera, the shocking yellow hue of the butterfly and the vibrant green of the jungle forming the backdrop. This was how he wanted to remember her—still soft and flushed after his kisses. Full of colour and light and life. The person who had brought such colour back to his own life.

“Come on,” he said, uncomfortable at the strength of his reaction to a simple snapshot. Sophia shook her curls and the butterfly flitted off. “We have to catch the train, or we’ll miss it and have to wait another half hour.”

They caught the train that took them to the Garganta del Diablo—the Devil’s Throat. Tomas had made this trip before, and knew what to expect, but he loved watching Sophia’s face as they went deeper through the rain forest toward the most famous part of the falls. Her eyes danced and she twisted in her seat, looking out of the open window and trying to see everything. His kiss had stopped her questions, but for how long? What if she knew the whole truth? Woul

d she feel the same? Or would that light in her eyes dim just a bit knowing he wasn’t the man she thought he was?

Tomas would not let it ruin their day. He pointed out birds as they went along, and cautioned Sophia to put on her poncho unless she favoured getting wet. “The day is clear, but the mist never goes away,” he explained. “And Sophia—you will get wet,” he promised, as they followed the rest of the throng to the boardwalk.

The roar of the water was deafening as their shoes clunked along the metal structure. They hadn’t gone far when Sophia clutched at his hand, her eyes huge as she looked up at him. “The water is moving so fast.” The shore was behind them and a thick cloud of mist indicated their destination—the cusp of the Devil’s Throat. Right now the only thing standing between them and the rushing water was a metal grate.

“It’s safe,” Tomas assured her, keeping her hand in his. “And the view is so worth it. Come on, Sophia.” He pulled her along, keeping her close as he sensed her unease. The vibration of the water shimmered up through the soles of their shoes. It was impossible to ignore the river’s power.

When they reached the end of the boardwalk, the mist hovered, a filmy cloud settling on their clear ponchos. As they approached the rail, Tomas heard her gasp with pleasure, her hesitation temporarily forgotten. “Tomas, look! A rainbow!”

The sun was shining through the mist and an arc of colour decorated the view. “See the birds?” he called to her above the falls’ roar as they tumbled and crashed to an invisible bottom. The birds were dark darts, flitting in and out of view. “It’s incredible.”

Tomas took out his camera, wanting to capture her this alive, looking so free and vibrant. Did she know how brave, how gutsy she was to come on this trip alone, to gamely take on anything he suggested? Sometimes even foolishly. She was the kind of woman a man would be proud to call his. A woman who would walk beside her man so they could face things together, given the chance. Her ex had to be the biggest fool on earth to throw that away.

She stood on tiptoe, hanging on to the railing and looking down into the cleft in the rock. As the wind tossed her hair over her shoulder, he knew that she was the kind of woman he could easily spend his life with.