Page 12 of Naked Truth

Chapter Seven

Valentina

Raoul is gonewhen I awaken, I know immediately. I sit up in bed, surrounded by beautiful white sheets, pillows and a thick comforter, a luxurious cloud floating in a sea of color. My rooms at Casa Hernandez are clearly not intended for an average guest. I had a faint impression of color and splendor when Raoul swept me through the space last night, before practically throwing me on the bed and covering me with his body, but I was far too distracted to truly pay attention to my surroundings.

Now I do, and can only marvel at the decorator’s attention to detail in this extraordinary room. The rich earth-toned walls are the perfect setting for large, vibrantly-colored paintings, the furnishing are all made of heavy, darkly-stained wood, and there are every manner of earthenware pots and statues perched throughout the room, each gleaming in the sunlight. The light is also a feature of the room, in fact. While the bed is tucked in an alcove that remains peacefully shadowed, the outer area of the bedroom is clearly meant to be open to the sky. Raoul must have flung open every shutter before he left. Sunlight pours into the space, beckoning me out of my bed and into the day.

I take the tiniest moment more, however, to pull the covers to me and sigh with unabashed happiness. The music, lights and laughter of the previous evening are still dancing in my head. At one point, very late, I submitted to a DNA swab and blood draw that took no more than a few minutes, and I’m told the results will be back in only a few days.

I should be worried about that, but…strangely…I’m not. The true magic of this place upon me has already been worked by Raoul and my grandfather. Between the two of them, I know I’ve found my place in this world—with my grandfather walking before me, and Raoul by my side. I chuckle, knowing Raoul would probably be shocked to learn how certain I am that we are meant to be together after only one day, but that doesn’t change the truth of the matter. My tía raised me to listen to my body, my heart—and then my mind. Today, for maybe the first time in my life, all three are singing the same music.

That song only plays louder a few hours later, as Dom Hernandez walks with me down a long, colorfully painted corridor that houses the portraits of my ancestors. I struggle not to feel awkward in my clothes—a simple but vividly bright pink dress that Raoul left for me in the sumptuous bathroom attached to my bedroom. It’s so different from what I normally wear. I’ve never lived in this much color before. My life has been the cool, neutral palettes of stone and sky, my tía preferring her works to catch the eye for their craft, not their color, always maintaining that the best secrets were those overlooked by all but those paying close attention.

Now Dom Hernandez commands my attention as he gestures to another painting, this one fronted by a row of tiny votive candles on stands, all of them lit. “And this is my Camila,” he says, his voice a mixture of pride and sorrow. “She never stopped looking for you, Valentina, no matter how the family lawyers complained. She never gave up hope. When she died three years ago, it was like a light in my life went out, all the world turning gray and cold to me. Then yesterday, you walked up to me, holding the sun on a string like a balloon.”

I smile broadly, delighted with the image he’s created for me. “Well, it was your birthday. Of course I wanted to bring balloons.”

“Yes, yes.” He grins and steps forward to the next painting, this one also fronted by lit candles. Dom Hernandez sighs heavily. “And this is your beautiful mother.”

I don’t realize I’ve lifted my hands to my mouth until I feel the pressure of my fingers against my lips, the soft rush of breath against my skin. The woman standing in the life-sized portrait looks so real I half expect her to step out of the painting and into the world of color. She gazes at me with huge, dark eyes, hair that is exactly my same dark shade, and a positively exquisite face. Her smile is wide and full of mischief, and she’s wearing a dress of deep, vivid red that cascades around her, edged in snow white lace at the wrists, hem, and along the sweeping, off the shoulder neckline.

“It was her favorite dress.” Dom Hernandez sighs, gazing at the portrait, lost in his own thoughts. “She would wear it every chance she could. When she…she… I simply couldn’t give it away. I’ve kept it, all these years, waiting for her daughter to claim it.”

He turns to me with bright eyes, reaching for my hand. “Would you wear that dress for me, for our family, tonight?”

“That—” I glance back at the portrait. Rosa looks taller than me, and thinner, but it’s possible we could wear the same size. Faced with the hope shining in my grandfather’s eyes, I don’t hesitate another moment. “Of course, I will,” I say, smiling broadly. “I’ll try to do your daughter very proud.”

“My daughter—and your mother,” he agrees, and I wouldn’t trade his look of sheer happiness for anything in the world.

* * *

As the knock sounds on my door several hours later though, I’m not so sure. My mother’s dress was too big for me, and only through the work of skilled seamstresses were we able to get it to fit correctly. It looks lovely, I know it does, but I feel like nothing more than a little girl playing dress-up, and the first hint of doubt has crept into my heart.

“Valentina?” Raoul’s rich, confident voice recalls me, and I shake off my fear and rush to to the door.

“I’m ready!” I call out. “I’m—”

He doesn’t wait for me to finish, but opens the door wide, and the expression on his face stops me abruptly.

“You—you don’t like it?” I squeak.

He blinks, the wonder in his gaze slipping into a look of pure admiration. “I love it, little bird. You look very much like your mother, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Feeling unaccountably shy, I let him draw me into an embrace, his soft kiss on my lips not enough to mar my careful makeup. Three of my grandfather’s housemaids helped me get ready, and I do feel beautiful, but Raoul’s words have me curious.

“Did you know her?” I ask as we set off down the long corridor. I can already hear the music playing in the background, and my fingers tighten on his.

He pats my hand as he tucks it into his arm. “I did, though not well. I was barely a teenager myself when she announced to Dom Hernandez and Camila that she was pregnant and they would be grandparents. She never would admit who the father was. There were whispers, of course, fears even. The extended family was in an uproar, and Rosa was a willful young woman. But her happiness was too strong to deny. She lit up every room she danced into, just as you do, little bird.”

I smile wryly. I don’t hold a candle to my gorgeous mother, and everything I learn of her puts me more in awe of her bold and colorful life. “And you never found out the father’s name?” There’d been nothing in any of the articles I’d read that mentioned Rosa marrying, but I wonder now about what sort of man she would have been attracted to. Someone like Raoul, I think—an older man, dark and dangerous, who made her heart beat so wild it felt like it might pound right out of her chest. “I would’ve loved to have known her.”

“Instead, you will know her through family,” he says, and I don’t miss the caution in his tone. “They don’t know what to expect of you either, so—don’t let them intimidate you. Dom Hernandez has accepted you. To him, the DNA test is a formality, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

I shoot him an amused glance. “And what do you think?”

He stops then, and turns to me. We’re almost to the courtyard where the main festivities of last night’s party took place, and I’m growing increasingly nervous. But in this moment, I can think of nothing but the intensity of Raoul’s gaze as he stares down at me.

“I think you are a brave, beautiful young woman who wants only to gather her family around her. Like Señor Hernandez, I believe the DNA tests will prove you are his granddaughter, but that is not the most important truth anymore.”

I blink up at him. “It isn’t?”

“Not at all, little bird,” he murmurs, and I’ve never seen anyone’s eyes so dark, so hot. “The most important truth is that you were meant to walk through Señor Hernandez’s door yesterday—and straight into my arms. You are mine. Today, tomorrow, always.”

“Raoul,” I whisper, my heart lurching in my chest.

But there’s no more time to talk. As the music changes in the room beyond, I hear my name called out—or the version of my name I now understand was truly given to me.

“Louisa Rosa Valentina Hernandez!”

With Raoul by my side, gripping my hand so tight I won’t fall despite my sudden dizziness, I step into the bright lights, and chaos erupts around me.

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