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CHAPTER ONE

THE doctor was leaving the Castillo d’Oro when the sound of a helicopter low overhead stopped him in his tracks. As he paused, his hand shading his eyes from the sun, it landed and a tall figure disembarked.

The figure, immediately recognisable even at a distance, appeared to see him and hit the ground running, reaching the doctor’s side before the helicopter had lifted off again. He had covered the hundred metres or so with a speed and grace that in the medic’s envious opinion would not have looked out of place on an athletic track.

‘How are you, Luiz?’

The question was strictly rhetorical.

There were few people who looked as little in need of his care as Luiz Felipe Santoro. Despite his exertion, the hand extended to the doctor was cool and dry, and its owner, not even breathing hard, presented his usual immaculate appearance complete with formal tailored suit and sober silk tie.

The doctor always found the vitality this young man projected slightly exhausting and today was no exception.

It was hard to guess looking at him now that Luiz Santoro had once been a delicate child who had suffered more than his fair share of childhood ailments including asthma.

His delicate constitution combined with an adventurous—some called it reckless—personality meant the doctor had treated the young Luiz for many bumps and bruises, and on one occasion a broken limb.

It seemed likely to the doctor that it was that streak of adventure that his parents, before they had left him in the care of his grandmother, had tried unsuccessfully to quash that made Luiz, to quote his grandmother, ‘the only member of this family I can stomach.’

That, of course, was on the occasions her favourite grandson hadn’t incited her wrath by refusing to jump through one of her hoops, but then when the two people involved were strong-minded individuals, both incapable of compromise, there were bound to be sparks.

It struck the doctor as ironic really that the only member of the family that neither wanted nor needed the fortune the rest of his family eyed so covetously was likely to inherit. Luiz, with his steel-trap mind and competitive streak, had made his first million before he was twenty-one and was already incredibly wealthy in his own right.

‘I’m surprised to see you. Your office told me you were mid Atlantic on your way to New York when I rang.’

‘I was.’ Luiz dismissed his altered travel arrangements with a wave of his long brown fingers. ‘How is my grandmother?’

The medic felt the sweat break out across his brow as he met, with as much composure as he could summon, the younger man’s dark eyes. It seemed to him that there was more than a hint of the ruthlessness the press spoke of in his dark, penetrating gaze.

The doctor tried hard to put a positive spin on his account of his patient’s health, but Doña Elena’s health was not what it had been.

Luiz summed up the situation in his usual concise manner. ‘So you are saying, though she has improved slightly since you contacted me, it is possible my grandmother might not get better.’

Luiz had always prided himself on being a realist, but this oddly was the first time he had allowed himself to believe that his grandmother was not indestructible. Recognising that should not hit him so hard—her decline was inevitable—but that did not stop him feeling as if he’d just been kicked in the guts.

The doctor sighed and looked sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry it could not be better news, Luiz,’ he said, struggling to gauge the younger man’s reaction. It was not easy when his eyes gave as much away as the mirrored surface of dark sunglasses. ‘Of course if I am needed…’

Luiz, his expression sombre, inclined his head in acknowledgement of the courtesy. ‘Goodbye, Doctor.’

He was still standing watching the man leave, thinking about the great gaping hole the death of his grandmother would leave, when a cheery voice hailed him.

‘Luiz!’

He turned in response to his name to see Ramon, his grandmother’s estate manager, approaching at a trot.

Ramon had replaced the previous manager five years earlier. Experiencing a lot of resistance in the early days of his tenure, he had appealed to Luiz for support in his efforts to bring about some much-needed changes to the estancia set high in the Sierra Nevada, where tradition was important and his modernising ways were viewed with suspicion.

Over the years the two men had developed not just a relaxed working relationship, but a friendship. When Luiz had discovered the desperate condition of his grandmother’s finances—she had taken some appalling advice and put all her financial eggs in one basket; they had smashed—Ramon’s expertise and energy had helped him to save the estancia from imminent financial ruin.

Luiz was grateful that his grandmother still remained blissfully ignorant of the personal funds he had poured into the failing estate and how close she had come to losing it.

‘Surprise visit,’ the other man observed as he approached.

‘You could say that,’ Luiz agreed, unfastening his tie from his throat and loosing the top button of his shirt.

‘Your grandmother…?’

Luiz nodded.

Ramon winced and clapped a sympathetic hand to the other man’s shoulder before tentatively asking, ‘Not a good time, I know, but I was wondering should I go ahead with the preparations for next week’s birthday celebrations or…?’

‘Go ahead with them,’ Luiz agreed before turning the subject to matters he felt more comfortable discussing. ‘Has anything else come up?’

‘It’s funny you should say that.’

Luiz, clasping a hand to the back of his head as he rotated it to relieve the tension that was tying his shoulder muscles in knots, missed the flicker of amusement that crossed Ramon’s face. Brow puckered in concentration, he glanced at his wristwatch.

‘Give me an hour to see my grandmother, change and shower…’

‘This item that has come up is actually of the immediate variety.’

There was a flicker of interest in Luiz’s eyes as he asked, ‘How immediate?’

‘Immediate as in there is a woman, a pretty woman, demanding to see you.’

‘A woman!’

‘Pretty woman.’

‘I was thinking more along the lines of a problem with the plumbing or a disaster with the first press of olives,’ Luiz admitted. ‘And does this woman…sorry, pretty woman—and I have to say, Ramon, it pains me that you would think that would make a difference—have a name?’

‘She is a Miss Nell Frost. English, I believe.’

Luiz shook his head and shrugged dismissively. The name rang no bells. ‘Never heard of her.’

‘Pity. I was hoping she was your birthday present for Doña Elena’s birthday—the next Mrs Santoro. Now that would make her day.’ When his joke fell flat Ramon shrugged and asked, ‘Got any other ideas?’

‘Ideas?’ Luiz, who couldn’t see the problem, frowned. ‘Just tell her it is not convenient, suggest she makes an appointment.’

He began to walk away but Ramon followed him.

‘It won’t work. Neither will threats, charm or bribery because I’ve already tried and failed.’

Luiz felt a surge of impatience. How hard could it be to get rid of one unwanted visitor?

‘Have Security remove her.’ His expression revealed that he was amazed this had not already been done. ‘Or better still, get Sabina to give her her marching orders.’

‘Sabina has tried. It was she who suggested that you might like to speak with the young lady.’

Luiz raised a brow. Sabina held the official title of housekeeper, but in reality she was far more and in this household her suggestions carried as much weight as his grandmother’s orders. He gave a resigned sigh. ‘Where is she?’

‘She has been sitting on the south lawn for the last hour or so, and it’s warm.’

Luiz raised his brows at the understatement. It was thirty-plus degrees in the shade. ‘Why has she been sitting on the south lawn?’

‘I believe it is in the nature of a protest.’

‘A protest,’ Luiz echoed. ‘Against what?’

The other man struggled against a smile. ‘Why, something to do with you, I believe. Did I mention she is very pretty?’ he added.

Mistress: Pregnant By The Spanish Billionaire

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