Had Naldo sent his sister to persuade her with stories of “sentimental reasons” and sexist exclusion? She didn’t believe for a moment that Isabela wanted the cottage for herself. She might not have the limitless means of her brother, but Isabela could undoubtedly buy a ten-thousand-square-foot beachside mansion without even straining her bank accounts.

She was up to something, and it seemed very likely that Naldo was behind it. He’d already proved he was devious enough to use kisses, even sex, to get his way. What next?

She was going to let him know exactly what she thought of his little plan.

She stomped inside and picked up the phone. The pink, heart-shaped piece of paper with Naldo’s number still lay on the counter and she punched it in.

“Hi, Pilar, it’s Anna, where can I find Naldo?” she asked as politely as she could.

“He left for the south orchards, out by the water tower, about three hours ago. They’re putting in some new rows there.”

“Thanks.”

She grabbed her keys.

Seven

Anna spotted the golf cart Naldo’s father always used to get around the estate-painted burgundy with RDL emblazoned in cream letters-just off the dirt road at the end of a row of newly transplanted trees. He must be out barking orders at the poor peons in his employ.

She tried not to let the sweet rich orange scent dissipate her mood of raw indignation as she strode through the grove. At last she came upon a knot of men digging evenly spaced holes to accept a truckload of new transplants.

She squinted in the bright sun, trying to spot that unmistakably imperious profile amongst the suntanned workers. Then she saw him.

Naldo knelt in the sandy soil, an expression of rapt concentration on his hard features. His broad hands patted the dirt into place around a fragile young transplant. As she watched the tender care with which he treated the plant and the freshly turned earth that held it, her breath caught in her lungs.

The trees are family to us.

She steeled herself against a wave of sappy emotion that would not help her in any way. “Naldo.”

“Anna.” He sat back on his heels. A perplexed frown crossed his forehead, then his eyes narrowed. “You’ve come to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Her blood pressure shot up. “Are you kidding me?”

He looked past her, to where she could still hear the sound of shovels moving the soft soil. “Let’s walk.” He rose to his feet, dusting off his pants.

Dressed all in black, shirtsleeves rolled over his broad forearms to accommodate the afternoon heat, Naldo looked effortlessly elegant. She wore a pretty white sundress she’d found in her mother’s closet. She couldn’t help thinking they must make rather a dashing couple, strolling down the lush rows of perfectly maintained orange trees.

An illusion. Black and white, opposites in every way, she and Naldo had nothing in common other than a vested interest in one dusty acre of land.

“No one will come down these rows,” he said, once the thunking of shovels was no longer audible. He turned to face her.

“You know why I’m here,” she said. “I think it’s pathetic that you sent your sister to talk me into selling out. I wouldn’t have thought that was your style, Naldo, sending a woman to fight your battles. I guess you’ve changed.”

A line appeared between Naldo’s dark brows. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Isabela. She paid a visit to the cottage. I especially enjoyed the part where she appealed to me out of sisterhood.”

Naldo looked at her like she was crazy. His eyes narrowed to black slits. “Sisterhood?”

“She warned me about you. She told me you’d stop at nothing to get the land, and I’d better watch out.”

Naldo laughed, long and hard. “She knows me, all right. Are you scared?” His face creased into a grin that brought out his dimples.

“I’m not scared of anyone or anything.” She held her head high.

“I believe you. It’s one of the many things I like about you.” His infuriating grin persisted.

Anger bubbled in her chest. “And, Isabela happened to mention that your father did give my mother the jewels legally.”

Naldo’s smile vanished. “Yes. He paid the gift tax. They were hers, and now they’re yours. I apologize for not telling you myself but I only learned the news this morning and I’ve been out in the groves ever since.”

“So.” She cleared her throat. “I have a proposal. I’d like to sell you the jewels, and keep the land and cottage.” The idea had occurred to her almost at the moment she said it. It didn’t mean she had to stay in the cottage, but it would be there for her, a home to come back to, and she’d still have money to get her life back on track.

She held her breath.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“All or nothing. I must have that land back.”

“That was a nice touch having Isabela pretend she wanted it for herself.”

Naldo’s forehead furrowed slightly. “I had nothing to do with Isabela coming to visit you. If she tried to buy it from you it was for her own reasons.”

“She said she wanted to live there.”

“Did she now?” His mouth hitched into a wry smile. “Since that is about as likely as me wanting to live there, she has some other plan. As you know, she’d love me to sell the whole estate. No doubt she planned to sell it to developers or something to force my hand.”

“She couldn’t do that. There’s no road easement.”

“I know.” His satisfied smile irked her. “But I’m disturbed that you checked. It seems that all the women around here are trying to sell off a piece of my private paradise. You can’t trust anyone.” He lifted a brow.

“I already know I can’t trust you. You’ll stop at nothing to get what you want.”

“Spoken like someone who knows me well.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “And since we’re on the subject, how about three million five hundred thousand dollars for the land, the cottage, the jewels and the cookbook.”

Anna’s lips parted and a tingle of astonishment sneaked up her neck.

“I can have the money for you today. In cash, or wired into the account of your choice.” His expression had turned more serious. “I’m sure we both want to get this resolved.”

“Yes.” Her word emerged as a breathy whisper.

Three and a half million dollars.

They’d walked out of the grove of newly planted trees into an early-season grove now in full white-petaled bloom.

The thought of all that money in her overdrawn bank account…freaked her out. Suddenly shaky, she inhaled a deep lungful of the rich sweet fragrance. The bright blossoms shone like stars among the dark, shiny leaves.

“These trees will set a lot of fruit this year,” she murmured.

“They will.” His forehead furrowed and he looked at her curiously.

Three and a half million dollars. It was more than enough to do anything. Or nothing. She’d be independent, free of obligation to anyone. She could walk out of here and never look back.

The thought punched her in the gut like a blow. If she took the money she’d never see this place again.

She hesitated as the blossom-scented air filled her senses. All around her, miles of trees in various stages of blooming and fruiting dug their roots down into the rich soil, drawing life, giving nourishment and strength.

“You would give me the money and I would just…go.” Without planning to, she spoke the painful thought aloud. The anguish she heard in her voice made her heart seize tighter.

“Yes.” Something odd flickered in Naldo’s eyes.

Naldo wanted to sever her roots. To cut her adrift in the harsh world that had bruised her like a tender fruit in the wrong hands.

She couldn’t breathe right. Maybe it was the orange oil in the air, or the bright sun in her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen to her brain to say the word yes.

Naldo stood like a statue, regal and imposing, his black shirt open at the neck to reveal his bronze throat. She watched his Adam’s apple move as he spoke. “Four million.”

His voice emerged low. Not a question, not even a demand. There was something odd in his tone that further hindered her ability to form a coherent thought. There was something even stranger in his eyes as he took a step forward and seized her hand.

The warm, firm touch of his long fingers made her catch her breath. She dug her feet into the sandy soil, trying to get a grip on something, anything. His hand closed around hers and he took another step that brought his chest within inches of hers.

She struggled to find words but the beating of her heart was too loud and the blood rushed to her brain. Naldo took hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her face to his. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. She moved her lips, hoping that some sensible words would find their way to them, but no sound came out.

Naldo’s gaze dropped to her mouth, his eyelids lowered a fraction and he inhaled…then took her mouth in a deep, penetrating kiss that made her belly quiver.

Her fingers clawed into his thick hair as he tipped her head back. His mouth devoured hers hungrily, his face pushed against hers, skin on skin, the rich, musky scent of him mingling with the fragrant blossoms to overpower her senses.

As he deepened the soul-stealing kiss, she ran her fingers over the roping muscles of his back and tugged at his shirt, sneaking her fingertips down his spine and into his waistband.

Instantly she felt him thicken and harden against her. He let out a low groan and a broad hand roved down her dress to cup her breast, then lower to test the curve of her rear. He squeezed her against him and she gasped. So big and powerful, yet so gentle and tender, Naldo took her breath away.

She tore at the front of his shirt, pulling the buttons roughly from their holes, scratching at the firm, tan skin beneath. Naldo unzipped her dress in one swift motion, and they both shoved it and her panties down over her waist and legs, urgency building in the orange-scented air.