Читать книгу Mistress By Contract - HELEN BIANCHIN, Helen Bianchin - Страница 7

MONDAY proved to be an anticlimax. Mikayla almost expected to see Rafael waiting beside her Mini when she finished school. She drove straight to the hospital, and he wasn’t a surprise visitor. That evening there was no phone call, and she spent another restless night, slept in, and was five minutes late for class.

At ten the office delivered a message for her to call Rafael Velez-Aguilera, and listed a number.

The students scrambled out the door the instant the bell rang for recess, and she collected textbooks, shoved papers into her satchel, then made her way to the pay-phone.

It was a mobile phone number, which ate coins at an alarming rate, and she must have caught him in a meeting for his tone was brief and to the point.

‘Can you make it to my lawyer’s office at four?’

‘This afternoon?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can try.’ Her coins ran out, and she replaced the receiver.

She took the bus into the city. It was cheaper than paying astronomical parking fees. It also made her almost fifteen minutes late.

Rafael was already there, and she entered the office, sank into a chair, and accepted a glass of chilled soda.

The lawyer regarded her thoughtfully. ‘You were happy with the independent legal advice?’

Happy wasn’t the right word. ‘His explanation clarified all the relevant clauses.’ A definition which hadn’t differed from his own.

‘The medical results are now available,’ the lawyer continued. ‘And clear.’

They couldn’t be anything else, and she was tempted to offer a flip response. It wasn’t the moment for facetiousness, so she merely inclined her head.

‘Are you agreeable to sign the documentation?’

The trap was closing. She felt like one of King Henry the Eighth’s wives about to face the guillotine.

Mikayla closed her mind to everything else except her father. ‘Yes.’

It was done within minutes. Her signature first, then Rafael, and witnessed by the lawyer.

She had to get out of there. To remain and exchange meaningless pleasantries was beyond her.

‘If you’ll excuse me?’ She rose to her feet. ‘I’m due at the hospital.’

‘I’ll leave with you.’ Rafael unfolded his length, extended his hand to the lawyer, then followed her out past reception.

‘Where is your car?’ Rafael queried as the lift doors closed behind them.

‘At school. I caught a bus in.’

The lift slid to a halt at ground level and she emerged into the foyer.

‘In that case, I’ll drive you to the hospital and we can collect your car afterwards,’ Rafael declared smoothly.

‘There’s no need for you to visit.’ She needed time alone to absorb the enormity of what she’d just done.

‘I’m parked across the street.’

He was so damned imperturbable, she wanted to hit him. ‘No.’

They passed through the circular revolving door onto the pavement. ‘The ink is barely dry, and you want to argue with me?’

There was steel beneath the silk, and she heeded the silent warning. ‘I’d prefer to visit my father alone. I’d also prefer to spend tonight at my flat.’ Dear heaven, tomorrow would come soon enough. ‘I need to pack, clean, notify the landlady.’ Who wouldn’t be pleased at receiving twenty-four hours’ notice, and who would undoubtedly demand rent in lieu.

Rafael regarded her thoughtfully for several long seconds.

She stood her ground. ‘I have no intention of reneging.’

‘I would hope not,’ he inclined with dangerous softness. ‘Be aware I make a ruthless enemy.’

The lights changed, the ‘walk’ sign showed green, and together they crossed the street.

In the car she sat still, and didn’t so much as offer a word during the time it took to reach the school grounds.

Mikayla barely glanced at him as she slipped out of the car. It took brief minutes to unlock the Mini and slide behind the wheel. She made to close the door, only to discover Rafael had followed her and his hand supported the door-frame.

She turned towards him with raised eyebrows. ‘What now?’

‘It might help if you have my residential address.’

She dived a hand into her satchel, retrieved pad and pen, then wrote down the street number and name.

‘I’ll expect you there tomorrow afternoon,’ he drawled, and she discarded pen and pad onto the adjoining seat.

‘After school finishes,’ Mikayla inclined. ‘When I’ve visited my father.’

‘Six,’ Rafael insisted. ‘No later.’

She twisted the key and he closed the door as the engine fired, then she reversed, gained the road and joined the stream of traffic.

It was almost dark when she reached the hospital, and she stayed a while, reluctant to leave Joshua’s bedside.

Visiting hours concluded, she bade her father goodnight and drove home. She’d had nothing to eat, and she fixed herself baked beans on toast, made hot sweet tea, then when she was done she picked up the phone and called the landlady.

She had expected the rent in lieu of notice, what she hadn’t anticipated was the verbal abuse that came with the demand.

‘Take it out of the bond security,’ Mikayla instructed smoothly, knowing too well the landlady would find fault and withhold all of it.

Next, she packed everything she’d brought into the place, then she cleaned, scrubbed and tidied until her arms ached. At midnight she took a shower and fell into bed.

Mikayla woke to heavy rain. An omen? she queried silently as she quickly dressed, and she ate breakfast on the run, aware any minute the landlady would arrive to do battle.

A mild descriptive, Mikayla reflected half an hour later. Say goodbye to the bond security and furniture, the woman had it all sewn up.

It took two trips to load her belongings into the Mini, and she walked out of the flat and didn’t look back.

The umbrella didn’t shield her from the sleeting rain, and she got damp walking from the car park to class.

Mikayla became increasingly tense as the day progressed, and when the final bell went ending class she was as wound up as a tightly coiled spring.

At the hospital she checked with the ward’s nursing station, gave details of her change of address and phone number, then went in to visit Joshua.

There was no change, and her heart bled a little for him.

All day she’d thought of a way to tell him his debt to Rafael Velez-Aguilera had been waived. He didn’t need to know the truth, but he was still an astute man. She couldn’t fool him into believing she’d won the lottery, or somehow managed to find such an amount of money.

In an agony of doubt, she weighed up the benefit of him knowing, or not knowing, and opted to go with a grain of honesty. Truth by omission, she acknowledged cynically.

‘I have some good news,’ Mikayla said gently as she pulled a chair close to his side. She took his hand in hers and soothed the slight agitated movement of his fingers against the bedcovers. ‘I’ve reason to believe Rafael Velez-Aguilera is not going to press charges against you.’

His mouth trembled. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘But the money—’

He need never know. She’d make sure of it. ‘I think it’s going to be possible to work something out.’

‘Is that why he visited me?’

Mikayla took hold of it like a drowning woman. ‘It’s most unlikely he’d have come otherwise.’

‘How?’

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘We’ll talk when I know more about it.’

A nurse came by on her rounds, and within ten minutes the dinner cart arrived.

‘I’ll go,’ Mikayla said quietly. ‘Sleep well, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

It was almost five-thirty when she edged the car out of the hospital grounds and headed towards suburban Woollahra. As she drew close she pulled over to the kerb and checked the street map, pinpointed where she needed to turn, then eased forward and picked up speed.

Her stomach twisted into a painful knot when she sighted the given street name. Old trees bordered each side, their spreading branches showing the green of seasonal spring, and she drove slowly checking numbers until she came to a wide curving driveway protected by large ornate iron gates.

They were closed. A security camera hovered on a tall pillar, and she drew the Mini to a halt, slid out and pressed the electronic button.

Almost immediately the gate mechanism began to release, and by the time she slipped back behind the wheel she was able to drive through.

Immaculate grounds, a beautiful Mediterranean double storied home, cream-plastered exterior, terra cotta and cream tiled roof, large curved windows.

It was elegant, graceful, and she slowed to a halt beneath the tiled portico less than a metre behind Rafael’s Mercedes.

This was it. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as she slid from the car. She was almost at the heavy panelled double doors when one opened and Rafael stood framed in the aperture.

What did she say? Anything would sound banal, and she simply inclined her head, then turned to retrace her steps. ‘My stuff’s in the car.’

He was there as she reached it, and he extracted both suitcases with an ease she could only admire.

‘I’ll bring the rest,’ she indicated. There was just her satchel, and two boxes of books.

Combined, they represented all her possessions.

‘Leave the boxes,’ Rafael instructed. ‘I’ll bring them.’

How did he think they got into the car in the first place? ‘I can manage.’

‘One,’ he conceded. ‘I’ll get the other.’

‘It’s okay.’

She wasn’t even inside the door, and already they were at odds.

‘I wasn’t questioning your ability,’ he drawled. ‘Merely cautioning against injuring your arm.’

The entrance foyer was large, tiled floor, mahogany cabinets placed in strategic positions against the walls. A wide curved ornate balustraded double staircase led to the upper floor and a magnificent crystal chandelier hung suspended from the ceiling. Wall friezes and sconces adorned the walls, together with works of art.