The open drapes displayed a spectacular view of the bay and let in sunlight that nudged Abena awake. Stretching and yawning quietly, she glanced over at the six-foot male encased in honed muscle lying in her bed. She stifled the urge to squeal.

She’d had full-on, no-holds-barred sex. Laid naked with a man and joined bodies with him. And every part of the act had been incredible. Better than expected.

She wanted more, over and over again. Was her reaction normal? Maybe. Maybe it was her normal. Or maybe it was the man lying in the bed with her who inspired that type of craving.

Santiago slept on his back, face turned toward her, and his curls, in a disorderly display after their night of lovemaking, tumbled across his brow. She couldn’t resist touching him, and let the back of her finger brush along his forehead, gently pushing a lock of hair from his face.

He stirred and his eyes fluttered open, hazy for a moment as he struggled from the depths of sleep, before he focused on her with laser-like precision.

“Good morning,” she whispered. “Sorry I woke you.”

“Good morning.” A slow, knowing smile slanted over his face and made her hot all over.

Santiago moved to her side of the bed and kissed the sensitive skin at the inside of her arm, and then her shoulder. The feathery-light caress of his lips made her skin come alive. She smiled at the soft touch as his other hand slipped beneath the covers and smoothed down her abdomen to the flesh nestled between her legs. She whimpered and arched her back, spreading her legs and submitting her most intimate part to his touch.

“Good morning,” Santiago said again, rolling on top of her.

He wanted more, too, apparently. She moistened against his probing fingers, coming alive as she tilted her pelvis into the stroke of his hand. The wetness of her arousal dampened his fingers.

This was what she’d been missing all these years. A man’s knowing touch, and her own body awakened to pleasures she’d only imagined before.

He pelted her throat and breasts with kisses, and she arched her neck, basking in the warmth and texture of each kiss. Slow moving, his hand slid under her bottom and tilted her pelvis higher.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Santiago said in a rough voice. He nipped the underside of her breast before reaching for a condom beside the bed. When he’d sheathed his length, he entered her in one smooth stroke. Groaning, his brow wrinkling, he moved in slow motion, in and out of her slick flesh. Abena’s fingers slid into his hair, and she turned her mouth to his.

Another slow slide. Another deep thrust. Each calm, precise movement built the fire inside her.

She let out a low moan and tilted her head back against the pillow. Was this normal? To ache so much it became a physical pain? To be so wet—so embarrassingly wet with desire for a man?

She caressed his shoulders and arms, running her palms over hard muscle and sinewy flesh.

His hands acted as a guide to her movements as he stroked inside of her, and Abena placed her lips everywhere they could reach—along the soft-textured beard on his jawline, his throat, his lips, his nose, his ear. She wanted to kiss every bit of him.

Santiago gripped the pillow beside her head, and his thrusting became more energized. Abena ran her hands up the sides of his ribcage and settled in the middle of his back, gripping the muscles there, sinking her fingers into his flesh as she held on tight.

Her body poised on the brink of a climax, tension twisting like a screw in her belly. He’d brought her to the brink so quickly, so easily. She tightened her legs high on his back, and the deeper penetration was precisely what she needed. Shattering, she cried out his name as she shook with a riot of sensation that overtook every muscle and nerve.

She pressed her nose to his neck as he came, too. Inhaled his sweat-damp skin as his hips pounded at a frantic pace, his breathing labored and choppy. His harsh groan of release mingled with her soft pants as she struggled to catch her breath.

Finally, his movements stopped as he rested above her on his elbows. When he regained his strength, he rolled off her onto his back.

---

Santiago finger-combed his hair and walked into the kitchen, where he found Abena. She was dressed in a burgundy silk robe and a pair of furry slippers in the same color, which exposed her toes. She smiled at him when he came out of the bedroom and dried her hand on a dish towel. The actions came across as so routine, his breathing stopped, and a faint and unfamiliar ache unfolded in his chest.

“Perfect timing.” Abena gestured at the table in the alcove, where a feast of eggs, sausages, orange juice, coffee, and toast sat in an array of white dishes.

“You’ve been busy.” After making love this morning, he’d dozed off and then woke up to find her gone from the room. He’d taken a quick shower before getting dressed and coming out.

“I thought you’d be hungry when you woke up,” she said shyly.

Warmth filled his chest. He had been her first. Knowing that no other man had made love to her filled him with possessive pride. He didn’t want any other man to know the pleasure of her lovely body, to be familiar with her hoarse cries, or to hear his name called out as she trembled through an intense orgasm. Every one of those belonged to Santiago, and Santiago alone.

Last night he’d gone to the pop-up club to find something, or someone, to help him forget the disheartening experience with his father that remained at the back of his brain. She’d been exactly what he needed. More. He wanted to stick around and spend more time, something he didn’t usually do with women, but he had plans today.

“I would have stopped you if I’d known you were cooking all of this food. I have to leave.”

“Before you eat?”

“I have some personal business to take care of.” He spoke softly to her because he saw the light dim in her eyes. It was nice to be taken care of. There was something sexy about a woman preparing a meal for him. If this was her normal routine, he would be spoiled. “I would stay if I could, but I can’t.”

“I understand.” Her finger stroked the towel on the counter, and he saw the swallow in her delicate throat.

Santiago walked over and took her hand. He tugged her so close their chests almost touched. “How do you feel? Physically, I mean.”

She shrugged, staring at some point beyond his shoulder. “A little sore.”

“That’s to be expected.” He tilted up her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for giving me such a beautiful gift.” He kissed her. Her delicious, full mouth was softer than rose petals and sweeter than dulce de leche. This mouth was going to be the death of him. So many things he could teach her to do with it. He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “I’ll call you later. I’m on my way to see my sister in Fort Lauderdale.”

“Oh.” Her voice and eyes brightened with understanding.

“I promised her days ago I would come by today, otherwise I would cancel. She’s expecting me, and it’s important that I see her.”

“Of course I understand. Call me later, like you said.” She bit her bottom lip, as if she felt she were asking too much.

“I will.” He kissed her cheek and grabbed her bottom, because he couldn’t really help himself. He picked up his jacket from the sofa, where he left it the night before, and left.

---

Susanna’s house was located in a quiet community of small homes. She started renting the house after her divorce from her now-deceased ex-husband, a man Santiago intensely disliked when he was alive. He’d caused nothing but grief to his older sister, and after their divorce, did very little to support her and their two little girls. When he passed away, Susanna grieved, not because she missed him, but because her children no longer had a father.

As much as he could, Santiago tried to help Susanna. She struggled financially, and despite being a millionaire, Constantino didn’t lift a finger to help his grandchildren. In true Constantino fashion, he let Susanna fend for herself. According to his asshole logic, she was an adult and should be able to survive on her own. His responsibility to her ended when she turned eighteen.

Santiago parked on the street and grabbed two bags of groceries and a bag of toys he’d picked up at the department store for his nieces. Before he reached the door, Susanna swung it open and waved at him. “Hola!” she called.

She held his youngest niece, ten-month-old Dory, in her arms.

“Shouldn’t she be napping?” Santiago entered the door and into the neatly arranged living room.

Susanna giggled. She was the oldest and most Anglo-looking of his siblings, with blonde hair and blue eyes inherited from her American mother. “She should be, but she waited up for Tio Santiago.” Susanna didn’t speak Spanish fluently, but often incorporated a few words into the conversation to practice.

He followed her into the kitchen and she watched as he placed the groceries in the cabinets.

“I wish I could say you don’t have to do this.” Susanna removed a pitcher from the refrigerator.

“You know I don’t mind.” The last time he saw her was when they went out with her friend. He’d sensed she needed a break, so he had paid for a baby-sitter and covered the entire evening for her and her friend.

His sister poured them each a glass of lemonade, and after he finished, he joined her at the breakfast table.

“How are the classes going?”

“With two kids, not so great, but I’m passing.” The smile on her lips wavered a bit. Susanna took customer service calls from home, but was working on getting a medical transcription certificate to earn more money. Only one year left.

“I have a proposition for you,” Santiago said.

A petulant wail from the back of the house stalled the conversation.

Susanna groaned. “Cissy’s awake. Hold that thought.” She stood.

“I’ll take her,” Santiago said, inclining his head to his niece.

Susanna stared at him. “You’re going to hold Dory?”

“Yes.”

She raised a brow. “You never hold the baby.”

“I’m going to do it now. So you can tend to Cissy.”

Her eyebrows snapped together. “If you’re sure…”

“Do you not want me to hold her?”

“No, it’s not that at all. I—” Cissy’s crying became louder, as if she wanted to make sure she’d been heard. “Here you go.” Susanna placed her daughter in Santiago’s hands. “You have her?”

“I think. Like this?” Santiago couldn’t remember the last time he’d held an infant. He placed the baby against his chest and inhaled her fresh, powdery smell. She was adorable in all white—a white onesie and white booties—and stared up at him with her mother’s round blue eyes, studying his face up close.

“You’ve got it.” Susanna hesitated, gave him an odd look, then disappeared to tend to her other child.

“Hola pequeña,” Santiago whispered to his niece.

Her face broke into a grin, as if she understood he’d called her little. Her smile displayed two white teeth at the bottom. Her tiny fingers curled into his lower lip, and he chuckled.

Out of nowhere, an image of Abena came to mind as a mother, cradling an infant, with him standing over them both. The idea so absorbed him, some time passed before he caught himself and shook off the thought.

He’d never much considered being a father before and always took precautions to make sure he didn’t become one. “Someday” had been his mantra. Someday he’d have kids. Someday he’d get married. Maybe, if he could find the time to slow down and devote himself to one woman and children—children who obviously took a lot of time and energy. But for one quick second, he glimpsed a life he previously thought way out of reach. A future with Abena suddenly felt right and not unattainable.

“I’m back,” Susanna said. “Cissy’s okay. I settled her down and she went right back to sleep.” She took the baby and sat down. “You surprised me. I’ve tried to get you to hold my kids before, and you’ve treated them like the plague.” She rocked her daughter in a reclining position.

“Have I?” Santiago chuckled, shaking off the inexplicable emptiness he felt in his hands now the baby was gone.

“Yes, you have,” Susanna said, amused. “Are you getting a bout of baby fever?”

“That’s a woman problem.” He sipped the lemonade.

“Men get baby fever, too, you jerk.” Susanna shook her head in mock disgust. “So, what did you have to tell me earlier, before my daughter interrupted us with her charming screams?”

Santiago stroked the bristles on his jaw. “I have a proposition for you. Instead of loaning you the money you asked me for, I want to invest it for you.”

His sister’s face fell. “I know you mean well, but no.”

“Listen, I work for a pretty smart guy, and I’ve learned a lot from him. So far, all the investments I’ve made with him have been successful. Very successful. Instead of giving you a one-time loan, I want to give you the opportunity to make money on a regular basis. This project, I promise you, is going to be a money-making project.”

Her brow wrinkled. “And if it’s not?”

“I’ll still give you the money.”

“Not give. I need a loan to pay off some bills. Every time the phone rings, I jump and I’m afraid to answer it because I know on the other line is someone who’s going to demand money I don’t have.” The credit card debt and personal loans she and her ex-husband accrued during the course of their short marriage became her sole responsibility when he had the audacity to die and leave her in even more dire straits.

“This will help you get back on your feet.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure?”

“I’m very certain.” No investment was one hundred percent guaranteed, but he didn’t tell her that.

Susanna glanced down at her daughter, whose eyes drooped drowsily from the calming sway of her mother’s arms. “Okay. I trust you.”

Santiago briefly placed a hand on her knee. “You’re going to get through this, Susanna.”

“How did you end up being the most decent man I’ve ever known? If not for you…” She sighed. “Have you talked to our father lately?”

“I saw him in California. He’s working on a major project out there.” He summarized the conversation, including what little he knew about the woman their father said he loved.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth about this woman?”

“Who knows? I don’t know if he’s in love, but he’s definitely seeing someone. He was practically bursting to tell me, but for some reason held back.”

“Did he ask about me?” she asked quietly.

Pain twisted in his abdomen. “No,” he replied just as quietly.

Susanna still sought out their father’s attention, but Constantino made it very clear he was disappointed his first-born was not male. He’d wanted a son, yet his relationship with Santiago remained fractured. Constantino’s selfish behavior hurt Santiago and Susanna deeply. They had commiserated over the phone for years and developed a tight bond.

“Nothing’s changed,” she said with a shrug. “How long do I have to wait to see if your investment pans out?”

“Two months,” Santiago replied.

Susanna gave him a brave smile. “I can wait two months.”