Читать книгу Mistress to the Mediterranean Male - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 16

MORE out of defiance than any real wish to go out on her own, Brynne did go for a drive once Michael and Alejandro had gone out in the Mercedes, selecting a car with a soft top she could put down to enjoy the full benefits of the beautifully sunny day.

Whether out of defiance or not, she actually enjoyed her day out, driving down to Palma to park on the seafront and walk along the marina looking at the magnificent yachts moored there, some of them looking bigger inside than the flat she rented at home, and several of them had helicopter pads on the back too.

She bought a baguette for her lunch, finding a park just across from the seafront in which to sit and enjoy it along with lots of other tourists sitting or lying about the wonderful water feature in the park’s middle, and then strolling into the city to sit outside a café and have a leisurely cup of coffee before wandering up to look at the cathedral.

Michael, as a six-year-old, would have enjoyed looking at the yachts for a short time, but the cathedral wouldn’t have interested him in the slightest, so it felt quite good to take full advantage of this day off.

But lonely too, of course …

And she couldn’t help wondering where Alejandro had taken his son for the day, sincerely hoped, for both their sakes, that Alejandro had taken Michael’s age into account when he had made his plans.

Not that it was any of her business, of course, but she was aware of the time passing, and would feel happier herself knowing that Michael was going to be happy once she had returned home.

She returned to the villa shortly after five o’clock to find they had only just returned themselves. Her worries seemed completely unnecessary if Michael’s enthusiasm about the water park his father had taken him to was any indication!

Although the unlikely picture of the arrogantly aloof Alejandro Santiago in a public water park, full of tourists and children, took a little getting used to!

‘Not what you expected?’ He quirked dark, mocking brows in Brynne’s direction as Michael skipped off happily to the kitchen to ask Maria for a biscuit and some fresh orange juice.

Not exactly, Brynne inwardly acknowledged as she hesitated about joining him at the table where he sat relaxing by the pool; after all, he hadn’t wanted her company all day, so there was no reason to suppose that he would want it now, either.

Which was totally childish on her part, she instantly reproved herself impatiently. Whether Alejandro wanted her company or not, he was stuck with it for another three and a half weeks, and she had no intention of making herself scarce every time he was around!

‘I’m sure the two of you had a wonderful time,’ she said noncommittally as she pulled out one of the chairs to sit down, her legs aching slightly from the amount of walking she had done today.

Alejandro gave a slightly derisive smile. ‘I enjoyed myself watching Miguel enjoy himself,’ he drawled ruefully, his smile fading slightly as he added huskily, ‘He is a charmingly engaging little boy.’

‘Yes.’ Brynne nodded. ‘He is.’

‘And that, I know, is due to the way Joanna and your brother brought him up,’ Alejandro murmured softly. ‘No doubt, your family too.’

‘Oh, I don’t think we can take too much credit for that,’ she denied, a pleased flush to her cheeks nonetheless. ‘Joanna had pretty much helped mould him into the happy, unspoilt little boy that he is by the time we all met him.’

‘She was a good mother.’ It was a statement, not a question, Alejandro knowing just from being with Miguel that this was so.

‘The best,’ Brynne confirmed unhesitantly. ‘She seemed to find no difficulty at all in juggling her career as a very successful lawyer and her role as Migu—Michael’s mother.’

Joanna had been twenty-four when Alejandro had met her, had completed her law qualifications and had been taking a year off from her studies to travel the world before commencing her career. It pleased him to know that she had had the success of that career that she had wanted so much.

He nodded. ‘She was very determined, very positive, of what she wanted to do with her life.’ There was sadness, if not actual grief, in his thoughts that all of that bright determination had been wiped out in a single act. ‘I am glad she succeeded.’

‘Yes,’ Brynne said huskily, slightly uncomfortable with this conversation, in the circumstances.

‘You find my interest in Joanna’s life—strange?’ Alejandro guessed astutely.

She shrugged. ‘Well, yes, a little,’ she acknowledged ruefully.

Alejandro shrugged broad shoulders, obviously relaxed from his day out with Michael, their own earlier tension seeming to have been put to one side, if not forgotten. ‘She was the mother of my son. Of course I am interested in whether or not she was happy.’

‘She and Tom were very happy together,’ Brynne told him slightly defensively.

‘I am aware of that too.’ Alejandro gave an acknowledging nod. ‘Miguel has talked of “Mummy” and “Daddy” for most of the day!’

Brynne became very still. ‘He has?’

‘Yes.’ Alejandro gave her a quizzical look. ‘This surprises you?’

Yes, it did. Apart from those nights when Michael woke up having nightmares, crying for his ‘Mummy and Daddy’, he never spoke of Joanna and Tom, hadn’t openly cried for them, either. Brynne wasn’t a psychologist, but she felt it was as if by not talking about them Michael could somehow put it from his mind that they were no longer there, that he could somehow believe they would one day walk back through the door.

The finality of death was very difficult for young children to understand, and only time and a great deal of love, Brynne knew, would help to heal the little boy’s deep sense of bewilderment.

And having Alejandro Santiago as his real father …

Because, aged four when Joanna and Tom had married, Michael had obviously always known that Tom wasn’t his father.

It was good that Michael felt he could talk to Alejandro about Joanna and Tom. Maybe Michael was already starting to transfer his affection to the other man …?

‘I am a stranger, Brynne.’ Alejandro broke the silence that had stretched between them. ‘Perhaps he feels more comfortable talking of them with someone who he knows … and please do not misunderstand me, but I am someone that Michael knows will not become emotionally upset when he talks of his mother and Tom.’

That was a point.

It was also a point that Alejandro had for once forgotten to call him ‘Miguel’ …

She managed a rueful smile. ‘You’re probably right. I’m afraid my parents have been pretty well emotionally demolished by the whole thing, by Joanna’s death of course, but Tom’s especially. And I can’t claim to have been too controlled about it myself.’ She grimaced.

‘But why should you be?’ Alejandro frowned. ‘Tom was your older brother, Joanna your sister-in-law. It was—is—a tragedy.’

Brynne gave him a quizzically searching glance. ‘But without that tragedy you might never have known Michael was your son—’

‘What sort of man do you take me for, Brynne?’ he cut in frowningly. ‘Do you think I would wish Joanna dead just so that I could claim Miguel?’

Well, she had pretty much put an end to that truce, Brynne guessed with a regretful wince for her inappropriate choice of words.

‘Of course I didn’t mean that,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘I was just pointing out—’

‘Brynne, I am very happy to know of Miguel’s existence, and I hope that if Joanna had lived I would still have learnt of it one day when he had grown up and possibly asked about his real father.’ He was consumed with anger. ‘But I certainly do not feel any pleasure in the fact that his mother is dead!’

Brynne gasped breathlessly. ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding me—’

‘I do not think so!’ Alejandro stood up abruptly, his face etched into hard, aristocratic lines. ‘No matter what you may have claimed only days ago, Brynne, I am not the inhuman monster you believe me to be,’ he bit out between clenched teeth before turning sharply on his heel and striding away.

He had thought Brynne had got to know him better than that in the last few days, felt deeply the knowledge that she still thought of him in that way.

Walking away seemed to be something Alejandro did a lot around her, Brynne acknowledged achingly as she watched him stride off towards the beach, bitterly dismayed at this fresh misunderstanding between them.

She turned sharply back to the villa as she heard the sound of glass breaking, knowing by the look of horror on Michael’s white, shocked face as he stood a short distance away on the tiled patio, the broken glass of orange juice at his feet, that he had to have heard at least the tail-end of her exchange with Alejandro, if not all of it!

Brynne got noisily to her feet. ‘Michael—’ she didn’t get any farther as the little boy turned on his heel—much as his father had done seconds ago!—and ran back inside the villa.

She hurried after him, all the time cursing herself for not remembering that as a teacher she was well aware of the fact that children had a way of appearing when you least expected them to—that, in Michael’s case, his return hadn’t been unexpected.

She should have realized, should have been more circumspect—

It was no good making the excuse that she had been so bemused by Alejandro’s almost gentleness as he had spoken of Joanna that she hadn’t given Michael’s return a second thought—she should have thought!

Michael was her priority. And in this case she and Alejandro were responsible for causing him pain.

‘Michael …!’ She groaned as she found him in his room face down on the bed, quickly crossing the room to sit on the side of the bed and gather him up into her arms.

Michael clung to her, crying so hard his whole body was racked by the shuddering sobs. ‘Mummy and Daddy are never coming back, are they?’ he choked as he clung to her. ‘I’m never going to see them again, am I?’ he cried as he was besieged by fresh sobs.

Brynne was crying too by this time, the salty tears wetting her lips as she held Michael tightly against her.

‘Are you going to die too, Aunty Bry?’ Michael sobbed. ‘And my new daddy?’

‘No, Michael,’ she gasped at his total desolation. ‘Of course we aren’t going to die.’

‘Don’t leave me, Aunty Bry!’ Michael clung to her even harder. ‘Please don’t leave me!’

‘Everyone dies one day, my love,’ she added huskily, knowing that truth was very important to children; lose their trust once and it was very hard to regain it. And there were no guarantees when it came to life and death …’But none of us is going to die yet, Michael. You’ll be a man yourself, possibly with children of your own, by the time your new daddy or I die.’ Surely fate couldn’t deal this bereft little boy two such devastating blows …?

‘That will be a long time then,’ Michael breathed thankfully.

‘Yes, a long time, darling,’ Brynne confirmed huskily.

‘Brynne …?’

She turned to look at Alejandro as he spoke softly to her from the doorway.

They made a desolate picture, Alejandro acknowledged even as he crossed the room to where they sat, both so emotionally wounded by this almost incomprehensible death of Joanna and Tom. ‘I heard the breaking of glass and your shout of “Michael”,’ he explained huskily even as he sat down on the bed beside Brynne. ‘I—’

‘Daddy!’ Michael had turned from his aunt’s arms to launch himself into Alejandro’s.

Alejandro felt emotion grip his own throat as he held Michael tightly to him, the little boy’s arms clinging so pathetically about his neck.

‘It is okay, Michael,’ he soothed as he stroked that silky dark hair so like his own. ‘Aunty Brynne and I will not leave you. You are not alone, Michael,’ he assured him firmly. ‘I promise you will never be alone.’

He was a man who chose to keep himself separate from emotion, having decided long ago that it was better that way. But Michael’s pain was such that it was impossible to remain unaffected. This was his son. His son! And Michael needed him in a way that no one else ever had.

He was filled with such a tidal wave of love that he found it almost impossible to speak, talking softly in Spanish when he finally found his voice again, reassuring his son of his love for him even as he stroked and held him close.

Not able to speak fluent Spanish, Brynne had no idea what Alejandro was murmuring to Michael, but it only needed one look at the softened arrogance of his face, and to hear the husky emotion in his voice, to know that it was something very personal, something totally private between father and son.

Feeling like an intruder on that emotion, she got quietly to her feet to walk over to the window. Michael had been so brave these last two months, so self-contained, that the release, when it had come, had been heart-shattering.

And when it had come, it had been Alejandro he had turned to for comfort …

She was glad.

For Michael’s sake.

But mainly for Alejandro’s.

He was a man who held himself so aloof from emotion, even knowing of Michael’s existence, bringing him here, not seeming to have shaken Alejandro’s well-ordered life too much. But she had seen love in Alejandro’s eyes a few minutes ago, and knew that Michael’s despair had finally broken through the barrier Alejandro seemed to have placed around his own heart.

Seeing Michael and Alejandro together like this, recognizing the affection, and now love, that was blossoming between the two of them, she could feel the trail of her own tears as they fell hotly down her cheeks.

‘He has fallen asleep,’ Alejandro murmured softly behind her a few minutes later. ‘No doubt exhausted from the release of emotion,’ he added huskily as he made his son comfortable on the bed before turning to look at Brynne. ‘You and I need to talk,’ he bit out grimly as he moved to the door, pointedly holding it open for her to precede him out of the room.

Brynne shot him a nervous glance as she reached his side, not at all sure of him in this mood, the tenderness he had shown towards Michael a few minutes ago having completely disappeared behind a hard mask.

Brynne swallowed hard. ‘Perhaps one of us should stay with Michael—’

‘You can come back and sit with him in a few minutes,’ Alejandro assured her harshly. ‘For now you and I have a conversation to finish. Not downstairs,’ he instructed tautly as she moved in that direction. ‘In here, where we cannot be overheard,’ he added determinedly as he pushed open a door farther down the hallway.

‘In here’ was a room Brynne had never been in before, a huge, sunny room with double French doors leading out onto a large balcony, decorated in muted golds and browns, and dominated by a huge four-poster bed with gauzy drapes that could be pulled at night for complete privacy.

Alejandro’s bedroom …