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Esmé looked for Rio in the stables, but he wasn't there. She headed up to the house, let herself in through the always-unlocked front door so that she could avoid seeing her mother again, and met Jonas, at the top of the stairs.

"Lookin' for the señor?" he said, and grinned.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Well, he's in the guest suite, checkin' out the paperwork on the fillies he bought." Jonas winked. "Man sure does have a good eye, when it comes to the ladies?which reminds me, missy. Rio says you'll be leavin' us. Got to tell you, I'm sorry to see you go. You got a fine way with horses."

"Rio spoke too soon," Esmé said quickly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh?" Jonas jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "The señor might not approve."

"The señor doesn't run my life," she replied, and knocked on Rio's door. He opened it, stared at her, then smiled and reached for her hand.

"Querida," he said, and drew her inside.

"Rio. I - I have to talk to -"

Rio shut the door, gathered her into his arms and kissed her. For a moment, she gave herself up to the kiss. Then she put her hands against his chest and pulled away. He looked at her and frowned.

"Esmé? What is wrong?"

"I have something to tell you."

She stepped out of his encircling arms and hoped he couldn't see the frantic beat of her pulse in her throat. She'd been good at modeling; photographers loved what they called her cool look. It was the look she deliberately set her features to now.

"Do you?" His voice had an edge to it; she could only imagine how he would sound after she told him she wasn't returning to New York as his mistress. "Tell me, then, querida. Don't keep us both in suspense."

She took a deep breath. "I've changed my mind. About going back with you to New York."

A muscle knotted in his cheek. " Well, I can accept that. You need a few more days here. You don't want to leave Jonas, as you say, in the lurch."

"No." Her hands were trembling. She dug them deep into the pockets of her gray silk trousers. "No, you don't understand. I'm not going back to New York, Rio. I'm not going to - to pick up where we left off."

Rio said nothing. Esmé could hear the beat of her own heart, the soft rush of her own breath.

"I see," he said, at last. "And the reason for this decision is??"

"I don't -" God, she thought, God, please get me through this. "I don't see any point to it." She smiled, though it felt as if her lips were sticking to her teeth. "I admit that last night was - it was exciting, but that's only because we'd been apart for a while. We both know that - that sooner or later, we'll be back where we were before I left, with - with our affair over and both of us wishing to be free?"

"Free," he said, very softly. "That is what you wish? To be free of me?"

Tears rose in her eyes. She damned herself silently for not being able to control her emotions but with luck, he wouldn't notice. He was so angry, his face so pale beneath its usual golden tan, that she didn't think he'd notice anything but the fact that his ego had been hammered again.

"Yes." She lifted her chin. "That's right, and it's better if we end things now, as friends, than if we wait a few weeks, or even a few months, and -"

"As I have said before, amada, you are a bad liar," Rio growled, and hauled her into his arms.

To be continued?