Читать книгу The Rodrigues Pregnancy - Anne Mather - Страница 8

IT WAS raining.

It didn’t often rain in Miami, but when it did it was usually a downpour. The present downpour was courtesy of Hurricane Flora, which had been downgraded to a tropical storm before it reached the mainland. It was probably the last hurricane of the season, but that didn’t make it any the less unpleasant. Nor did it improve Christian Rodrigues’s temper as he strode from his car into the Mora Building, brushing the drops of water from the shoulders of his fine wool Italian suit.

Thankfully, the hurricane hadn’t touched the Bahamas. It had come in over the Gulf of Mexico and dissipated itself in the islands that bordered the gulf coast. There was no reason why Olivia’s flight should have been delayed or for her to make any excuse for not flying. Yet the helicopter had come back without her and, although he’d tried to reach her by other means, she apparently wasn’t answering her phone.

He strode across the marble lobby, taking little notice of its arching roof or the exquisite examples of glass and artwork that gave the space its elegant appeal. A dozen journals had praised its architectural brilliance, but on this dull Thursday morning Christian was in little mood to appreciate his surroundings.

Or his own success in working there. Antonio Mora had been his father’s cousin and when he’d invited the much younger Christian to come and work for him it had been a marvellous opportunity. Christian had been in college then, working for a law degree and holding down two part-time jobs just to pay for his tuition fees. His parents were dead, killed in a landslide while they were visiting his grandparents in Venezuela, and until Antonio—Tony—came on the scene, Christian had never thought of contacting his distant relative.

But Tony had just heard that his cousin was dead and he wanted to help. He’d offered to pay Christian’s tuition fees himself if Christian agreed to come and work for him after he’d graduated. He wanted to do something in his cousin’s memory, he’d said, and although the boy had bought it at the time, Christian had learned better since.

Tony had done nothing for nothing. Despite the fact that he’d rarely visited his cousin and his family, he’d apparently been impressed by Christian’s intelligence. Tony had needed someone he could trust, someone he could rely on. Family had meant a lot to Tony, and until Luis was older he’d wanted someone of his own blood to be his second-in-command.

Maybe, too, he’d already realised that Luis wasn’t like him. He was more like his mother—or rather his stepmother, Christian had soon decided. The cool and lovely Mrs Mora, who had never liked him; who had always regarded him with a scarcely veiled contempt, as if she thought she knew exactly why he’d accepted Tony’s offer and it had nothing to do with either gratitude or family ties.

That she was wrong, but that there was nothing he could do to change her mind, was something he’d learned to live with. Besides, Olivia Mora had had a lot more to contend with than his annoying presence. Within a few weeks of coming to work for Tony he’d discovered that her marriage was as hollow as her husband’s promises. Tony Mora had been congenitally incapable of being faithful to any woman. If Olivia was suspicious of Christian it was probably because she’d learned to be suspicious of all men.

He’d also known that however careless Tony had been of his vows, he would have killed anyone who touched his Olivia. And Christian had more sense than to look her way. Besides which, despite Tony’s infidelities, she had seemed contented enough. Luis appeared to satisfy all her needs.

Or he had, brooded Christian grimly, affording the smiling receptionists, who occupied the huge slab of plate glass that passed for a desk in the lobby, only a grunted greeting. So why the hell hadn’t she been on board the helicopter when it had landed at the airport?

Despite her unwillingness to accept his help, he’d gone to meet her himself, deciding it would be better if they got any unpleasantness over with before they got to the hospital. He didn’t think she’d say anything in front of Luis. But the boy might detect the animosity between them and wonder why.

Christian scowled. Instead of that the helicopter had come back empty. The pilot had offered the excuse that she hadn’t turned up at the small airstrip. He hadn’t been able to wait around indefinitely. He had other commitments that day.

But why wasn’t she answering her phone? Christian stepped into one of the half dozen elevators that gave access to the upper floors of the building and punched the button for the forty-second floor with unnecessary force. She must have known he’d try to get in touch with her when she wasn’t on board the helicopter. Dammit, what the hell was going on?

His secretary, Dolores Samuels, met him in the foyer of his suite of offices and he guessed his presence in the building had been duly reported. Small and dark and fiery, Dolores showed her Latin heritage in every excitable movement she made, and her hands fluttered expressively when she saw his glowering face.

‘She was not on the flight?’ she asked, her dark eyes wide and knowing, and Christian stared at her.

‘How do you know that?’

Dolores’s tongue circled her lips in deliberate invitation. ‘Because Mike Delano called from the hospital,’ she replied slyly. ‘Mrs Mora arrived there only minutes after you left for the airport.’

Christian’s jaw compressed. ‘So why didn’t you ring me?’ he demanded, turning back towards the corridor outside his room with obvious intent. ‘It would have saved me the trip.’

‘Because she told Mike not to tell you,’ Dolores protested, her expression turning from artful teasing to innocent appeal in a moment. ‘You know what they say?’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Don’t kill the messenger. I am only telling you what Mike Delano said when he phoned a few minutes ago.’

‘Since when does Mike Delano take his orders from Mrs Mora?’ retorted Christian grimly. ‘And why didn’t he ring me instead of you?’

‘I expect because he knew you would turn around and go straight to the hospital,’ exclaimed Dolores, tugging beguilingly on a strand of curling dark hair.

‘And she is Luis’s mother. She didn’t want you to interfere.’

‘She’s his stepmother,’ Christian corrected her shortly, and Dolores’s eyes grew even wider at his aggravated tone.

‘Does it matter?’ she asked. ‘She is old. And she is Tony’s widow. I expect Mike was too intimidated to ignore what she said.’

Christian didn’t know why he felt so infuriated by her argument, but he did. ‘Olivia is not old,’ he said. ‘She is—what? Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight? That is not old, Dolores.’

‘It is to me,’ retorted the girl sulkily. ‘And to you, too, no esta?’ She paused, regarding him curiously.

‘Do not tell me you are interested in the frozen widow.’

Christian realised this was becoming too personal. Dolores had tried to engage him in conversations like this before and he had always put her off. She was too inquisitive, too provocative, and she was a gossip. And since the break-up of the affair she’d had with Tony she’d renewed her pursuit of her present boss with an increasingly flagrant intent.

‘I do not think Mrs Mora would appreciate your assessment of her character,’ he replied obliquely. He had no intention of discussing his association with his late cousin’s wife with her. ‘I suggest you confine yourself to business matters in the future. You are a good assistant, Dolores, but that is the only reason I persuaded Tony to let you keep your job.’

Dolores’s full lips pursed. ‘If you say so,’ she remarked insolently, turning back into her office, and it was only because he was in a hurry to get to the hospital that Christian chose not to challenge her again. But one day he would have to deal with her. He wanted no one to speculate about his efforts on her behalf.

With a gesture of frustration, he pulled out his cell-phone and ordered his chauffeur to bring his car up from the basement garage. Then he walked swiftly back to the elevator.

Sacred Heart Hospital was situated in downtown Miami and long before he reached the quiet enclave off Flagler Street, Christian’s car was snarled in traffic. Perhaps he should have arranged for Luis to be transferred to a hospital north of Miami, he reflected irritably, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He’d chosen to dismiss his chauffeur and drive himself and now, with the rain sluicing against the windscreen and the fumes from countless other vehicles invading the car, he was feeling decidedly put-upon.

Why the hell had Olivia chosen to make her own way to the hospital? he wondered, returning to his earlier gripe. Was it her way of proving she wanted nothing more to do with him? Or was it badness that had prompted her to thwart his plans?

His jaw hardened. She was going to have to deal with him sooner or later. He was one of the executors of the trust that was going to keep her in luxury for the rest of her life. If she didn’t like it, tough. It wasn’t her decision. However she felt about it, that was the way it was going to be.

It was early afternoon by the time he entered the hospital’s car park. It was full, but after a brief altercation with the uniformed security guard, which entailed a hundred-dollar bill changing hands, he was allowed to park in a space designated for staff members only. Then, after getting another soaking crossing to the entrance, he at last reached the lobby of the brightly lit establishment.

He had to run the gamut of more security checks before being allowed to take the stairs to the second floor. There were elevators, but they were all busy, and he was too impatient to wait while wheelchair-bound patients and porters wheeling gurneys took precedence. Besides, he expunged some of his frustrated energies in the act, reaching Luis’s door before he had himself totally in control.

Olivia was sitting beside her stepson’s bed, her hand resting lightly on his where it lay upon the coverlet. She was leaning towards him, speaking softly, when Christian opened the door, and the intimacy of the scene he was interrupting was not lost on him.

There was no sign of Mike Delano, but that didn’t surprise him. If Olivia had prevailed on Mike not to call his employer, the man was hardly likely to be hanging around here. He was probably downstairs in the coffee shop, drowning his sorrows in a double-cream cappuccino.

Christian would speak to him later, but for now he had to contend with a pair of clear grey eyes regarding him with undisguised irritation. Olivia was annoyed; that much was obvious. But he was bloody annoyed, too, and he refused to be daunted by the cool resentment in her gaze.

‘Hi,’ he said crisply, his eyes moving past her to the young man in the bed. ‘Luis.’ His thin lips formed a smile. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m okay.’ Luis managed to return his greeting but his face was still drawn with pain. He looked very pale, Christian thought, his tanned skin bleached almost to the colour of the sheet behind his head. ‘Thanks.’

‘Good.’ Christian came to stand across the bed from Olivia, forcing himself to concentrate on its occupant and not on her. ‘No after-effects of the flight?’

‘Just a bit of jet lag, I guess,’ said Luis bravely. ‘I appreciate you coming with me, Chris. It was good to see a friendly face among all those white coats.’

Christian’s smile flattened, but he was aware that Olivia flicked a glance at him before turning to her stepson again. ‘You didn’t tell me—Christian had escorted you back to Miami, Luis,’ she said, her normally husky voice sharpening with confusion. ‘You know I would have flown back with you myself if I’d known what was going on.’

Once again she afforded Christian a resentful look, but before he could speak Luis intervened. ‘Oh—Chris flew up the day after I had the accident,’ he explained, and Christian saw the way the hand lying in Olivia’s lap balled into a fist at his words. ‘He stayed with me until the doctors said he could arrange the transfer. That was how we flew back together.’

Olivia looked as if she was about to object, but this time Christian beat her to it. ‘I phoned you from San Francisco,’ he explained, meeting her taut gaze with some satisfaction. ‘I thought you realised that.’

He knew she hadn’t, and she knew he was lying, too, judging by the angry tightening of her soft mouth. Christian scowled. Now where had that come from? Her mouth was anything but soft at this moment. It was fairly trembling with the indignation she was trying so hard to suppress.

But, ‘No,’ was all she said in answer, before returning her attention to the young man in the bed. ‘Well, I’m glad Christian was there to look after you. I expect he realised how worried I’d have been if I’d known what was going on.’

‘Yeah.’ Luis turned grateful eyes to the older man again. ‘Chris’s been great. He hasn’t even moaned about me wrecking the Porsche.’

‘That’s not to say I won’t,’ put in Christian drily.

‘Especially if it turns out you were driving stoned out of your skull. I think you need a safer motor. I’m thinking about buying you a bug next time.’

‘If I ever drive again,’ muttered Luis, tears suddenly forming at the corners of his eyes, and Olivia made a sound of impatience as she gripped the boy’s hand with both of hers.

‘Of course you’ll drive again,’ she said, using her thumb to smear his tears away. She gave Christian another speaking appraisal. ‘Don’t you agree?’

‘Sure.’ Christian agreed with her. He brushed a hand across the boy’s shoulder and gave him a rueful smile. ‘So long as you do what you’re told and don’t give the doctors any grief,’ he added gently. ‘I know you feel pretty desperate now, kid, but it’s amazing what a few weeks’ bed-rest can achieve.’

‘You think?’

Luis sniffed and Christian was half relieved when he heard the door open behind him and a white-clad nurse entered the room. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now,’ she said, softening her words with a warm smile for her patient. ‘It’s time for Luis’s evaluation. Dr Hoffman is waiting for him. I’m going to wheel him along to the examination suite, okay?’

Olivia got immediately to her feet and Christian was instantly made aware of how tall and slender she was. Her hair, which was a shade between honey and silver, was secured at her nape with a leather thong, and the gold loops in her ears drew his attention to the delicate curve of her neck.

But he also noticed that although she was wearing a cream, ruched silk shirt, that complemented her slight tan and was only loosely tucked into her waistband, she was wearing it with low-waisted jeans and not one of the designer suits he was used to seeing. A small change, perhaps, but a significant one, and he wondered if her attitude towards him was all part of some determined desire to show she could look after herself.

Whatever, she looked coolly elegant and Christian wished she weren’t regarding him with such an expression of contempt. All right, he knew he’d made a mistake; a big one. But if she hadn’t been so willing, he would never have let it go so far.

A grimness tugged at the corner of his mouth and it was a struggle to smile at Luis as if nothing were wrong. ‘See you later, kid,’ he said as an orderly came to assist the nurse in moving the boy’s bed. ‘And I’ll get something organised, like I promised. You’re not going to have to stay in here any longer than is absolutely necessary, right?’

‘Right,’ murmured Luis, but his face was despondent, and Olivia moved forward to take his hand again.

‘Just know I’m here for you,’ she said, bending to bestow a butterfly kiss on his temple. ‘Don’t worry, darling. You’re going to be okay.’

Olivia followed Luis’s bed out into the corridor and stood watching as the nursing staff wheeled it away. Then, as if realising she couldn’t ignore him indefinitely, she cast a brief look at Christian and said, ‘Excuse me. I’m going to go and get a coffee.’

Christian jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, resisting the urge to grab her by the shoulders and hold her where she was. Did she honestly think she could get away with what she’d done so lightly? Had she any conception of how bloody angry he was?

Controlling his temper, he said, ‘I’ll join you,’ and although he was sure she wanted to object, a slight shrug of her shoulders was all the response he got.

She made for the bank of lifts and Christian had to stifle his frustration and stay with her. And, even though an influx of staff and visitors and patients made the downward trip an ordeal, they eventually reached the basement and the hospital cafeteria.

Thankfully, it wasn’t busy. Nor was there any sign of Mike Delano, which was a relief. At this hour of the afternoon, the lunch crowd had gone and the evening rush hadn’t started. Nevertheless, the smells emanating from the kitchens reminded Christian that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Deciding he owed Olivia no favours, he ordered a cheeseburger and fries to go with his coffee.

‘What can I get you?’ he asked, beating her to the self-service counter, and she gave him a frosty look.

‘Just coffee,’ she said, clearly wishing she didn’t have to accept his hospitality, and Christian nodded his acknowledgement as she went to find a table.

By the time he carried his tray across to where she was waiting, Olivia’s impatience was obvious in the way she was shifting restlessly in her seat. She’d chosen a table in the centre of the room, probably to deter him from thinking this was in any way a friendly encounter, but her expression changed when she saw what was on the tray.

Christian wasn’t sure, but he thought she paled slightly, and her breathing quickened, drawing his attention to the dusky hollow visible in the open neckline of her shirt. Silken ties hung loose and she clutched them with nervous fingers. Pale fabric lay against her golden skin, a sensuous invitation he couldn’t ignore.

‘Is something wrong?’ he queried, taking the chair opposite so she couldn’t accuse him of crowding her. He unloaded the plate containing the burger and fries onto the table. ‘Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat?’

‘No.’

She waved a hand in front of her face and he got the impression she was trying to waft the smell of the food away. Well, it wasn’t his fault if she felt sick with hunger, he assured himself. She probably hadn’t had any lunch, either, and there was no sense in starving herself to spite him.

Shrugging, he picked up his burger and took a generous bite. It was years since he’d lived on junk food but the juicy flavour of the meat reminded him irresistibly of his student days. And of the first time he’d seen his cousin’s wife…

Realising she was not about to speak to him—indeed, had half turned away from him, as if watching him eat his food was actually distasteful to her—Christian emptied his mouth.

‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me why you rejected the use of the helicopter,’ he said mildly. ‘Or if not that, then at least explain why you couldn’t have called and saved the pilot a useless trip.’

Olivia blew out a breath and, without looking at him, she said, ‘I knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer.’ She swallowed a little convulsively and then added faintly, ‘I’d already tried to tell you I didn’t need your help.’

Christian felt angry enough to swear in his own language. It annoyed him like hell that Olivia could make him lose his temper like this. ‘The helicopter is not mine. It belongs to the Mora Corporation. You are just as entitled to use it as me.’

‘Does it matter?’

Once again, Olivia wafted her hand across her face and Christian noticed the film of sweat on her upper lip. She hadn’t even touched her coffee. For pity’s sake, he thought irritably, couldn’t they even have a civil conversation?

‘It matters,’ he said now, pushing the burger aside, suddenly as uninterested in the food as she was.

‘Look, are we going to have to spend the next God knows how many years fencing around what’s really going on here? You don’t like me, Olivia. Well, here’s a newsflash, I’m not madly keen on you, either. But we’ve got to work together. Can’t we at least call a truce?’

Olivia’s gaze turned to him, but where he’d expected to see hostility he glimpsed only panic. ‘Where are the rest rooms?’ she choked, a hand over her mouth almost making her words indistinguishable, and as he cast around for an answer she left the table and rushed headlong out of the restaurant.

He followed her, of course, but he was too late to be of any help. By the time he reached the corridor, she was disappearing through the door marked ‘Women’. He expelled a frustrated sigh and was forced to kick his heels outside until she came out.

It seemed an age before she reappeared again, although he guessed it had only been a few minutes. She emerged looking even paler, her eyes pink-rimmed and a visible redness around her mouth.

She’d been sick. That much was obvious to him. Dammit, he hadn’t realised Luis’s accident would upset her so much. He straightened away from the wall where he’d been lounging and regarded her with some concern. ‘Are you all right?’

Clearly, she wasn’t, but she made a brave effort to pretend she was. ‘It must have been something I ate,’ she said, making no attempt to disguise what had happened. ‘And seeing Luis.’ She rubbed her lips again with the tissue she’d brought out of the rest room with her. ‘I suppose I didn’t expect all that bracing around his neck.’

‘I’m told they have to immobilise the neck to prevent further injury,’ said Christian gently. ‘It’s just a cervical collar. As I told you, his spine isn’t injured.’

‘All the same—’

‘Olivia, he’s not paralysed. He feels bad, I grant you. I dare say his hip isn’t very comfortable right now. But he will get better.’ He grimaced. ‘The doctors in San Francisco were very thorough. They seemed to think he’d been very lucky.’

Olivia bit her lip. ‘He says he doesn’t have a lot of pain,’ she murmured and Christian nodded.

‘And he hasn’t needed any surgery at all.’

‘Any surgery?’

She was staring at him with wide eyes and Christian cursed himself for mentioning it. ‘There can be internal injuries after a car crash,’ he told her unwillingly. ‘But Luis has no internal bleeding at all.’

‘Thank God.’

‘Indeed. A few weeks’ rest and he’ll be back on his feet, as good as new.’

‘You think so?’

Christian nodded. ‘I do.’

She shook her head. ‘Dear God, what if—?’

‘Olivia, we can all torture ourselves with “what-ifs”,’ he declared flatly. ‘What if he hadn’t been driving so fast? What if he hadn’t been on that particular stretch of highway at all? He did, he was, and this has happened. It’s up to us to make it as easy as possible for him to get over it. Right?’

She sniffed and then said stiffly, ‘Us?’

‘Yeah.’ Christian glanced back into the cafeteria. ‘Look, why don’t we go and sit down again?’

‘Not in there.’ Her response was urgent, and she turned her face away from the restaurant. ‘I—perhaps we should go back upstairs. Luis may be back from his examination by now.’

‘And he may not,’ retorted Christian shortly.

‘Come on, Olivia. We’ve got to talk about this so it might as well be now.’ He chewed on his lip for a moment, and then added, ‘Why don’t we go and find a lounge? There are bound to be waiting rooms for visitors somewhere.’

She hesitated for a moment and he thought she was going to balk again, but she didn’t. ‘All right,’ she agreed at last. ‘You can tell me how the accident happened, and how you came to be the one they got in touch with.’

Christian’s mouth flattened. Yeah, right, he thought grimly. That was the most important thing as far as she was concerned. What had happened months before the accident and how they were going to deal with that in the future was not in question. She was only talking to him at all because she really didn’t have a choice.

They took the stairs instead of using the elevator. Evidently, Olivia had no desire to be confined in an airless cubicle where the smell of antiseptic and medication were all-pervading. In her present state, she would have probably preferred to walk outdoors, but that wasn’t possible. Even without the rain, the streets beyond the parking lot that surrounded the hospital wouldn’t offer them the privacy they sought.

They found a visitors’ lounge on the second floor, just down the corridor from Luis’s room. To Christian’s relief, it was empty, though he guessed Olivia didn’t share his enthusiasm as she surveyed the deserted chairs and sofas.

But there was a coffee machine in one corner and Christian got them both plastic cups of the steaming beverage before he sat down. Olivia, he saw, had chosen an armchair and he took the sofa opposite. He deposited the cups on the table nearby before spreading his legs and letting his hands hang loosely between his thighs.

He couldn’t help but notice that she avoided looking at him. But she gave him a brief nod of thanks for the coffee before concentrating on the contents of the cup. With it cradled between her palms, she was successfully shutting him off from whatever thoughts she was entertaining. He guessed she wasn’t only thinking about her stepson.

But he couldn’t ask her that now. ‘Okay,’ he said instead, forcing her to listen to him. ‘The first thing we have to decide is where Luis is going to convalesce when he leaves the hospital.’

That got her attention. The pinkness had left her lids now and long, silvery-grey eyes set between thick curling lashes focussed on his face. ‘Where he’s going to convalesce?’ she echoed. ‘Isn’t that a little premature? We still don’t know how long he’s going to be in the hospital.’

‘Not long,’ said Christian, taking a mouthful of his own coffee. He found it palatable, if a little weak.

‘It’s my experience that patients who are not in need of any surgery are discharged fairly quickly. They’re encouraged to continue their recovery at home.’

‘At home?’ Once again she repeated his words.

‘But—Luis’s apartment is at Berkeley. There’s no one to care for him there.’

‘I know that.’ Christian put down his cup and regarded her intently. ‘How would you feel about opening up the house in Bal Harbour and caring for him there? After all, it was Luis’s home as well until he left for the west coast. I know you chose to leave Miami, but I don’t suppose that’s written in stone.’