Читать книгу Alejandro's Revenge - Anne Mather - Страница 8

YOU smug bastard!

For a moment Abby was half afraid she’d said the words out loud. But when she glanced apprehensively about her she saw no look of horror on anyone’s face, no embarrassed apology trembling on anyone’s lips. On the contrary, everyone—excluding Edward—was looking at Alejandro with undisguised approval, and Abby wanted to sink into the floor at the realisation that she was expected to acknowledge him, too.

‘Mr Varga,’ she said tightly, allowing her eyes to drift only briefly over his dark face. She was sure he must know exactly how she was feeling, and the hot colour that she had never been able to control spread revealingly into her throat.

The fact that she was instantly aware of everything about him, from the sleek smoothness of the hair that brushed his collar at the back of his head to the lean, aristocratic hollows beneath his cheekbones, was irritating. But that was her problem. It would have been difficult to pretend, to herself at least, that his image hadn’t been indelibly printed on her memory for the past two years. Just because she hated and despised him it hadn’t disappeared. She doubted it ever would.

Narrow arching brows framed eyes so dark she’d once believed they were black. But they weren’t. Close inspection had revealed that they were merely dark brown, albeit shadowed by black lashes that any woman would envy.

But that was the only feminine thing about Alejandro Varga. Tall for a man whose appearance proclaimed his Cuban heritage, he had evidently inherited his American mother’s genes, too. They were visible in his lean, athletic body, and his long powerful legs. In an impeccably cut suit—Abby guessed it was probably Italian in design—his tie his only concession to colour, he looked strong and invincible, and so painfully familiar that Abby’s heart ached.

God, she had been such a fool, she thought raggedly. It was obvious that as far as he was concerned he had no regrets about the past. And why should he have? To him she had been merely a novelty, a diversion. Edward’s older sister, who should have known better than to get involved with a man like him.

Now he was holding out his hand towards her and she was obliged to take it. Anything else would have been taken as an insult to the Esquivals, and she had no quarrel with them.

Nevertheless, when Alejandro’s cool fingers closed about hers, she couldn’t prevent the shiver that rippled down her spine at his touch. Even in the cool tranquillity of the Esquivals’ living room, the memory of those strong brown hands upon her body was unavoidable. Awareness, hot and palpable, spread from his fingers to hers, and whereas before she had been chilled, now she was suddenly engulfed with heat.

Snatching her hand back, she pressed it to her midriff, hoping no one else had noticed her reaction. It would be embarrassing if the Esquivals imagined she was harbouring some abortive feelings for the man. Which she wasn’t. But, to divert any suspicion, she added stiffly, ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘Oh, but Alejandro considers this his second home,’ declared Dolores warmly, moving towards him, preventing any rejoinder he might have made. She slipped her hand through his arm. ‘Is that not so, caro?’

‘Thanks to your gracious hospitality,’ Alejandro told her gallantly, and Abby, looking away from the tableau they presented, saw her brother’s lip curl in undisguised disgust.

No love lost there, then, she reflected curiously, wondering what Edward had against the man. He knew little of her dealings with Alejandro, and as he was apparently a close friend of Edward’s in-laws surely it would have been in her brother’s interests to try and get along with him. After all, whatever his faults, there was no doubt that he was a powerful man in Miami.

But once again she was allowing Alejandro to figure far too strongly in her thoughts. She hadn’t flown several thousand miles to fret about his relationship with her brother. It was Edward she was concerned about; Edward whose strange behaviour was definitely a cause for concern.

However, before she could speak to him, she heard the sound of light footsteps crossing the hall. Everyone glanced towards the door so that when the young woman whose footsteps they’d heard paused on the threshold, she was instantly the cynosure of all eyes.

Abby supposed that that was what was meant by making an entrance. Lauren—for she saw at once that it was her sister-in-law—gazed about her for a moment before stepping delicately into the room. Small, like her parents, but enviably slender, Lauren was wearing a gauzy floral dress that swished about her calves. Her ankles looked absurdly narrow above perilously high-heeled sandals, and Abby was sure she wouldn’t have been able to stand in them, let alone walk.

The younger girl’s eyes lingered longest on Alejandro, but she was too well bred to allow her parents to suspect her smile of welcome was for anyone other than her sister-in-law. With a little cry of delight she launched herself towards Abby, enveloping her in a perfumed embrace.

‘Abigail,’ she exclaimed. ‘I did not realise you were already here.’ The slight lisp she favoured added a breathy sibilation to the words.

Abby managed a warm word of greeting, but she was intensely conscious of the differences between them, and of how obvious they must appear to everyone else. To Alejandro, she admitted honestly. He must have noticed she was at least six inches taller than her sister-in-law, and infinitely more generously endowed.

Her duty done, Lauren drew back again and turned to smile at their other guest. ‘Alejandro,’ she said, and even the way she said his name was revealing. ‘Why did you not let me know you were coming?’

‘You mean he didn’t?’ muttered Edward in an undertone which Abby was fairly sure only she could hear. But her brows drew together in some concern. Surely Edward wasn’t jealous of Alejandro Varga. For heaven’s sake, the man was married. Though she had to concede that hadn’t stopped him before.

Even so…

‘I did not intend to be here,’ Alejandro was saying as Lauren captured his hands and gazed up at him in youthful reproach. ‘I had some business I wanted to discuss with your father, that is all. And when I heard that Abigail was expected…’ His eyes moved beyond her to where Abby was standing, his brows lifting consideringly. ‘How could I leave without first renewing our acquaintance?’

‘What a prince!’ grunted Edward rudely, but once again only Abby was close enough to hear him. Besides, Dolores was moving forward, eager to make her own contribution.

‘Alejandro insisted on sending his chauffeur to the airport to meet Abigail,’ she declared, suddenly explaining why Carlos hadn’t hung around after dropping her off. And, as Lauren was obliged to relinquish her hold on his hands and turn to her husband, Abby realised that she was now in the ignominious position of being beholden to him, too.

‘He’s all heart,’ said Edward, before she could speak, this time making no attempt to lower his voice. And, although Abby was diverted from having to make a response, she was uncomfortably aware that the Esquivals did not approve of their son-in-law’s levity.

‘You must forgive Edward,’ declared Luis, taking the initiative, his dark eyes hot with anger. ‘I fear the accident has not improved his temper, mi amigo.’ Then, summoning a smile, he turned to Abby again. ‘Come, Abigail, let me introduce you to my aunt.’

He drew her across the room to where the elderly woman was sitting. She was nodding in the sunlight that filtered through the long blinds, and he touched her shoulder with a gentle hand. ‘Tia Elena,’ he said, his tone softening perceptibly, ‘do you know Edward’s sister? She has come to spend a few days with us.’

Tia Elena was very old. Her face was a network of lines and creases, her gnarled hands plucking almost absently at the embroidery silks in her lap. But her eyes were surprisingly bright when they opened to Luis’s words, her gaze turning up to Abby’s face with undisguised interest

‘Por supuesto,’ she said. Of course. She held out her hand towards the young woman. ‘It is Abigail, no?’ She paused. ‘Edward told me you are escaping from the English winter, sí?’

No!

Once again Abby had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from protesting her innocence. Instead, she shook the old woman’s dry hand and managed a faint smile. ‘Who wouldn’t want to escape here?’ she said, deciding there was no point in making an issue of it with the old lady. ‘Everything is so—beautiful.’

‘You are saying all the right things,’ observed Tia Elena approvingly. ‘Luis, we should hire this young woman to promote your new leisure complex, no?’

‘You could be right,’ responded Luis politely, but Abby had the impression that he was still finding it difficult to control his anger. ‘Abigail is always welcome here. She knows that.’

Did she? Abigail was getting the distinct impression that the Esquivals were not exactly overjoyed that she had arrived. And why not? Edward was obviously in no danger. It looked very much as if he had got her out here for his own purposes. But what those purposes were she had yet to find out.

Now Abby abandoned her thoughts and stepped out onto her balcony. It was good to feel the warmth of the sun reversing the chill of apprehension on her skin. She already felt like an interloper and it wasn’t pleasant. Particularly as she hadn’t wanted to come.

Yet why did she feel this way? She couldn’t fault the Esquivals’ hospitality. Despite Edward’s rudeness, a maid had been summoned and iced tea had been served before Abby had been escorted to her room. And, thanks to Tia Elena’s attentions, she’d managed to avoid having to say anything to either Alejandro or her brother. She’d perched instead on the edge of a bright yellow sofa and replied to the old lady’s questions about her journey.

But why had Edward brought her out here? she wondered restlessly, plucking at the petals of the flowering vine that rioted over the iron railings of the balcony. What possible purpose could he have had? When she’d left England she’d imagined the worst, afraid that there must be something about his injuries he wasn’t telling her. Now she was sure there was something Edward hadn’t told her—but it wasn’t about his accident.

The sound of voices came from below and her scalp prickled. Although she couldn’t understand what he was saying, she thought she would have recognised that voice anywhere. It was Alejandro. He was leaving. And all three members of the Esquival family had come out to bid him farewell.

Abby glanced down almost nervously. Her balcony overlooked the formal gardens that lay to the right of the long drive, and by turning her head she could easily see the entrance portico and the four people who had emerged onto the shallow steps.

She knew she should draw back, that even by standing here, watching them, she was invading their privacy, but she stayed where she was. She wished she knew what her sister-in-law was talking about. Lauren’s dark excitable posturing intrigued her. It was obvious that they all deferred to the man Abby had never expected to encounter here, and her heart twisted painfully at the way they fawned around him.

Alejandro seemed calm and unruffled. His lazy smile split the dark contours of his face. He gave a polite wave before walking towards the sleek black vehicle that Abby now saw was parked to one side of the forecourt. A click of the key-fob and then he was swinging the door open, coiling his long length behind the wheel.

No wonder the chauffeur hadn’t hung around, Abby reflected, reluctantly admiring the lines of the expensive sports saloon. Clearly Alejandro preferred to drive himself.

The Esquivals clustered around the car, reluctant to let him go, but evidently he had had enough. His firing of the ignition signalled his eagerness to be on his way. And, although Abby told herself she was relieved that he would apparently not be joining them for dinner, she couldn’t prevent the unexpected frisson of nostalgia she felt as he swung the wheel towards the gates.

Crushing the emotion, she turned and went back into the bedroom behind her. Perhaps she ought to be thinking of leaving, too, she reflected. There was a flight to London tomorrow afternoon at about this time, and if she had any sense she’d arrange to be on it. She owed it to Ross, and to her local education authority, not to take advantage of their good nature. And now that it appeared that all Edward needed was someone to complain to she had no excuse for staying on.

But for tonight at least she had to make the best of the situation. The suite, which comprised this room, a small sitting area, a dressing room and bathroom, was very comfortable. Okay, maybe the rather heavy and ornate furniture was not to her taste, but so what? It suited the house.

Nevertheless, she decided not to take everything out of the case the maid had deposited on the carved chest at the foot of the bed. Fortunately, she’d packed a couple of dresses near the top of the case that she’d hoped would be suitable for both day and evening wear, and that was all she’d need. Oh, and a pair of heels, of course. She couldn’t wait to get out of the khaki pants and into something cool and feminine.

Say what?

Abby’s lips twisted. What was she thinking of? Just because Lauren and her mother chose to wear extremely feminine clothes that was no reason for her to feel she had to do the same. For heaven’s sake, she’d always been more at home in jeans and sweaters, or in warmer weather shorts and tees. She was no fashion plate. She never had been. She’d never get away with the kind of fussy flowing outfits Edward’s in-laws favoured.

She heaved a sigh. This whole trip was going to be a disaster. She just knew it. She could willingly strangle Edward for getting her into this situation.

A knock at her door brought a momentary halt to her soul-searching. Throwing the two dresses she’d taken from the suitcase onto the bed, she walked resignedly across the sitting area to the door.

Edward was waiting outside. He could evidently get around with the help of the crutches he had propped beneath his arms. He looked a little shamefaced, however, and Abby only hesitated a second before stepping back to let him in.

Closing the door, she leant back against it for a moment. Then, still without saying anything, she walked past him and into the bedroom, returning to the examination of her clothes she’d been making before he’d interrupted her. But her heart wasn’t in it, and when her brother limped to stand in the archway, watching her, she was forced to meet his pleading gaze.

‘Are you mad at me?’ he asked, giving her an appealing look, and she took a calming breath before replying.

‘Can you blame me?’ she demanded. Then, after a pause, ‘You let me think you were seriously injured, Eddie. I was really worried about you. And now I find there’s nothing wrong with you that a few weeks’ rest won’t cure.’

Edward looked injured. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’

Abby gave him a forbearing look. ‘Comparatively speaking,’ she retorted shortly. ‘What have you got? A fractured femur? Cuts and bruises? Life-threatening? I don’t think so.’

Edward limped to the armchair by the open balcony doors and eased himself into it. ‘So what are you saying?’ he asked. ‘That I have to be at death’s door before you’d make the effort to come and see me?’

Abby sighed. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’

‘Do I?’ Edward was on the offensive now. ‘It sounds suspiciously like it to me.’

‘Well, that’s because you’re choosing to take it that way,’ replied Abby, catching on fast. ‘And you’re not going to make me feel guilty, Eddie. I know you too well. What’s really going on here? You might as well tell me. I haven’t got the time to waste trying to second-guess you.’

Edward’s mouth took on a resentful curve. ‘It sounds as if you don’t care what happens to me any more.’

‘Oh, Eddie!’ Abby flopped down onto the side of the bed, feeling as if she wanted to scream. It was bad enough that he’d got her out here in the first place. She could do without his self-pity now she was here. ‘Stop twisting my words. I’m pleased to see you again. Of course I am. But you have to understand, this is not a holiday for me.’

‘It’s not a holiday for me either,’ muttered Edward peevishly, and Abby shook her head.

‘You know what I mean. I’ve had to take leave of absence from school, and now that Ross and I are—’

‘Oh, I wondered when Kenyon would come into it,’ Edward interrupted her harshly, and Abby remembered belatedly that he didn’t care for Ross any more than her fiancé cared for him.

They’d all met last year, when Edward had brought Lauren to see where he’d used to live in England, and Abby recalled how she’d hoped that the two men would hit it off. Her relationship with Ross had still been in its initial stages at that time, and it had seemed a good idea to get the two men together.

It hadn’t worked. Ross had considered Edward selfish and immature, and her brother had resented the occasionally patronising attitude Ross had adopted. She’d tried to explain that Ross was used to dealing with recalcitrant teenagers, but that had only exacerbated the situation. Edward had accused her of implying that he was no better than one of Ross’s students, and in her efforts to placate him she’d inadvertently offended Ross, too. The whole affair had been a nightmare, and she should have known better than to mention her fiancé now.

However, before she could think of some way of defusing the situation, Edward spoke again. Scuffing the toe of his canvas shoe against the polished floor, he lifted one shoulder in a conciliatory gesture.

‘Anyway,’ he mumbled, barely audibly, ‘you’re right. I didn’t ask you to come out here just because of the accident.’

Abby’s brows, which were considerably darker than her hair, drew rather warily together. ‘You didn’t?’ she asked carefully, as if she hadn’t been implying as much for the past few minutes. ‘So why did you ask me to come?’

Edward blew out a breath. ‘I—well, I needed to talk to you about Lauren. I think she’s having an affair.’