Free Pearls by Lisa Mills

telling him where she intended to spend her day. He hadn’t expected to see her until nightfall. Curious, he walked toward the front entrance to greet her. When she entered, she tried to avoid his gaze, but he couldn’t help noticing her reddened eyes and pale, distraught face.
    “Isabel?”
    She rushed past him and fled down the hallway to her room, shutting the door with a resounding thud. He followed and stood outside her room for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do. Ideally, he would find Doña Montez and explain the situation to her. She would be the best choice to aid Isabel with her problems. But the older woman remained in bed with a headache, and Maria, the cook, had given Manuel stern orders not to disturb the matriarch. Concerned, he couldn’t just ignore her obvious distress. Drawing a breath for courage, he knocked on Isabel’s door.
    She answered with a tremulous, “Who is it?”
    “Isabel, are you all right?”
    “Not really.” He heard her sniffle and blow her nose.
    “I feel silly talking to your door. Can you come and tell me what’s wrong?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because it’s humiliating.”
    “Isabel, please don’t make me stand out here all night pleading. Just open up and talk to me. We’re friends, right? Friends are there for each other. I promise you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”
    He heard her soft footfalls crossing her room and the door swung open. Her face was red and blotchy and she held a wad of tissue in one hand. “If you must know, that … that horrible man I’ve been dating, he….” A sob choked off her words.
    “He what, Isabel? Did he hurt you?” Manuel felt a surge of protectiveness as he studied Isabel’s sorrowful face, teary eyes, and drooping shoulders. She looked more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her, and he couldn’t help but lay a protective hand her shoulder.
    To his surprise, she moved into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder. “Raúl was with another woman on the yacht,” she sobbed, wetting his shirt with her tears. “They were kissing and touching, and—” She stopped suddenly and looked up into his face. “How could he do that to me? He’s been hinting about marriage, then I find him….” Her teeth clenched, and she pounded her fists against his chest in frustration before tears caused her to melt against him again.
    He wrapped his arms around her and held her, stroking her hair and back as she struggled with her hurt and pain. The gentle fragrance of her perfume wafted up to his nose and filled him with a heady sensation. He’d noticed how beautiful she was, but he never realized how good she’d feel in his arms. He longed to pull her tighter against him and rest his cheek against her silky hair. No you don’t, Santiago. This is not the time for that. To suppress the feelings she stirred in him, he tried to focus on a less dangerous subject. Work. Think of work. The journal project.
    Oh no, the journal project! With dismay, he realized that if Isabel and Raúl broke off their relationship, he would probably lose their only sponsor for the project. And then where would he be? He needed the money to pay his debts, and he needed the recognition he could gain from this discovery to further his career.
    He knew he was selfish to worry about money and prestige in the midst of her suffering, but there it was. Reality crashing in hard, he felt like crying right along with Isabel. Raúl’s betrayal would likely destroy both of their dreams.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
    Isabel cringed when she saw Raúl’s Mercedes coming down the lane to Casa Grande a week after “the incident.” The wound of his betrayal had not diminished. Instead it had festered in her heart, and she dreaded facing him. As she watched from a front window, the car rolled to a stop, and he stepped out, looking the part of a dashing, romantic hero. Why did you have to ruin what we had, Raúl? She swallowed the ache in her throat and denied