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thought or opinion or interest except those approved by him?
    What an extraordinary man! He obviously had little experience with women—educated, outspoken ones at least—if he believed he could dictate her very thoughts.
    Caroline caught up to her husband. He saw her and pulled back on the reins, slowing his horse to a brisk walk. They moved down a narrow path that cut through one of the orchards. The scent of coffee and sweet blossoms enveloped them.
    Caroline closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She loved the aroma of coffee beans. In New Orleans, she'd always volunteered whenever Derek needed someone to run a message or voucher to the warehouse, just so she could experience the sweet, tantalizing smell. Besides, it made her feel more a part of the company to actually see and smell the product that kept them solvent.
    "The trees bloom year round in this climate," he explained, "so there are trees with berries ready to be picked and trees with young blooms in the same grove."
    "How much does each tree yield?" she asked.
    Jason eyed her curiously. Though apparently doubtful of her sincerity, he couldn't seem to stop himself from talking about a subject that had dominated his life for the last fifteen years. "A pound of coffee per year per plant is a good yield."
    "That doesn't sound like much," she said with a frown. Even with coffee prices high, as they had been when she left New Orleans, she couldn't see how he could make enough money to live. "How many trees do you have?"
    "Why do you ask so many questions?" he asked impatiently.
    "Why do you hate answering them so much?" she challenged, tilting her chin stubbornly.
    "I'm not used to—" He didn't have to explain himself to anyone, least of all her. He'd almost admitted a weakness, that he didn't have a lot of experience with inquisitive females. In fact, his experience with women rarely involved conversation. And he wasn't interested in conversation now, just in getting this damned tour over with. "I've got a thousand acres of land under cultivation right now and probably four hundred trees per acre that are mature enough to yield coffee this year."
    "Why that's four thousand trees or four hundred thousand pounds of coffee per year. With coffee at twenty-one cents a pound, that means this year's harvest should be worth eighty-four thousand dollars on the American market. That's a fortune!"
    Jason's eyes narrowed. Her quick calculations displayed an intelligence beyond anything he'd expected or wanted in a wife.
    "It would be if it were all profit," he told her, wondering why he bothered when the last thing he wanted to do was discuss business with his wife. "It takes a lot of money to run a plantation of this size."
    "Especially one so isolated."
    Jason stiffened, taken aback yet again. Damn her. She had an uncanny ability to put him at ease and make him say more than he intended. Somehow, she'd managed to turn the tables again.
    The orchards gave way to jungle. As they emerged into a clearing, the beneficio came into view.
    "You are familiar with the beneficio," he commented dryly to cover his embarrassment at the memory of yesterday's encounter.
    Caroline's insides churned as she looked at the familiar building and remembered the last time she'd seen it.
    "Yes," she said, her gaze fixed on the white building, "and a very fine beneficio it is, so straight and tall and firm. I would have to say that it is one of the finest beneficios I have ever seen." She didn't know why she'd said that. It was as if someone else had taken control of her speech as well as her emotions.
    "So, you have a wide range of experience with beneficios?" he retorted.
    Caroline smiled, enjoying the game more than she should. "Not really. But I am sure beyond a doubt that, as beneficios go, this is a most splendid one. But, then, I've only seen the outside. I have no idea what goes on inside. Those hard, thick walls must hide some interesting secrets."
    Jason pulled his horse to a halt. At the