Читать книгу A Convenient Marriage - Maggie Cox, Maggie Cox - Страница 8

HE DIDN’T call and she shouldn’t have been either surprised or disappointed but perversely Sabrina was both. Ever since she’d set eyes on the handsome and intriguing Javier D’Alessandro, she’d been oddly unsettled and discontented. Which wasn’t like her at all. Sighing heavily, she gave her make-up one final check in the bathroom mirror, flicked off the light and returned to the living-room to collect her suit jacket and raincoat. The force of the rain outside was rattling the window-panes and a helpless wave of despondency washed over her. Yesterday, she, Robbie and Jill had been practically fighting over customers, they were so few. The day had dragged endlessly on, and when six o’clock came Sabrina had actually been glad to put on her coat and head for home. In fifteen years of running East-West Travel she had rarely been so eager to leave the office. Maybe Ellie was right? Maybe she should call it a day as far as the business was concerned. Concentrate on other things instead. Like finding a potential ‘Mr Right’ and perhaps having a child of her own before it really was too late. She really loved her sister’s kids and she probably wouldn’t make the worst job of raising her own. Would she?

‘Sabrina Kendricks, where is your head?’ Amazed at the winding and not entirely welcome path her thoughts had taken her down, she donned her jacket and coat, retrieved her prized umbrella that she’d bought from an exclusive Knightsbridge store in the sales, then slammed the flat door behind her with enough force to rattle every window in the whole house.

‘Call for you, Sabrina! And I’ve left your coffee on the side; don’t let it go cold, will you?’

Waving the receiver at her, Jill waited patiently as Sabrina made her way into the cramped little room that served as general ‘all-purpose’ filing cabinet and was also a repository for foreign exchange, petty cash and stationery. They also kept a small fridge for milk and juice, and the most essential item of all—the kettle.

‘Thanks, Jill.’ Not many people called her on what she thought of as her private line. Just a handful of people had the number, namely her parents and Ellie and an old schoolfriend who she kept in touch with from time to time.

Spying her coffee, she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip before speaking. ‘Sabrina Kendricks.’

‘Miss Kendricks, this is Javier D’Alessandro.’

She couldn’t prevent the breathy little gasp that came out of her mouth. She’d forgotten that she’d given him this number as well as her home one. Carefully, she placed the mug back on the cluttered pine shelf that was crammed with box files, fearful she would spill it because her hand was shaking.

‘Mr D’Alessandro…what can I do for you?’

‘A short break in Tenerife perhaps? Los Christianos maybe. In one of your charming little hotels that guarantee rest and relaxation and salve to the spirit…’

Oh, my. He could read the Oxford English Dictionary out loud and it would sound sexy.

‘Really? So you changed your mind about a holiday, then?’ Perversely, Sabrina didn’t want to talk to him about holidays. She chewed at her fingernail, grimacing at the flaked pearl nail-polish that she’d been too tired to replace last night; another uncharacteristic decision.

‘I make a jest with you, Miss Kendricks…Sabrina. I don’t want a holiday. I asked you out to dinner, remember?’

‘Three weeks ago,’ she blurted unthinkingly, then cursed herself for perhaps revealing too much. Now he would think she’d been counting the days.

‘I am sorry it has been so long. There were things—family concerns—that I needed to take care of.’

‘I understand.’ Was he married? Going through a divorce? Did he have kids? A thousand questions backed up in her brain—after all, she knew nothing about this man except that he was too gorgeous for words with black eyes that made her think of things she hadn’t considered in a very long time. And young. Don’t forget that, Sabrina. He probably wasn’t even thirty, and here she was, fast approaching thirty-eight. The whole thing was ridiculous. Best keep her mind on work and not let herself be so foolishly disappointed.

‘Would this evening be too short notice?’ Javier was suggesting. ‘If you give me your address I could pick you up at, say, eight o’clock if that is convenient?’

Sabrina swallowed hard. ‘Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a good idea for us to meet, Mr D’Alessandro; I—’

‘Javier. Please call me Javier.’

‘All right…Javier, I don’t want you to feel obliged to ask me to dinner just because it seemed like a good idea three weeks ago. I understand how things can change.’

‘Then you are a very tolerant woman, Sabrina, but I seriously would like to take you out to dinner and I do not understand this “feeling obliged” you talk about. My only motivation is to see you again. I sense that we may have more in common than you think.’

She heard the faint thread of humour in his voice and let out a long, slow breath. ‘All right, then. You’ve talked me into it.’ As if I needed to be persuaded. Sabrina allowed herself a grin and told him she would prefer to meet him outside the designated restaurant. Once she got the details, he bid her a slightly formal goodbye and told her he was looking forward to their meeting. As Sabrina replaced the receiver on its rest, she went mentally through the contents of her wardrobe and—apart from that disastrous burgundy suit—tried to remember the last time she had bought herself something really nice to wear. The sort of ‘something’ that would be suitable to wear to a very elegant restaurant in Knightsbridge with a man who would make Hollywood stars look plain.

‘I wish you weren’t going out tonight, Uncle Javier. I wish you were staying in with me and Rosie.’ Angelina glanced up from the television screen as her uncle came into the room, her dark eyes noting how handsome he looked in his suit and tie, his black hair gleaming beneath the soft lamps that lit the room. The slender blonde in her faded jeans and pink sweatshirt, sitting on the luxuriously thick rug beside the child, also marked his entrance with appreciative china-blue eyes.

‘Your uncle deserves a night out, Angelina,’ she said softly. ‘He’s stayed in with us every night since your father went into hospital. If you’re good you can stay up half an hour longer and watch the end of the film with me.’

‘Thanks, Rosie.’ Javier flashed her one of his most dazzling smiles and Rosie couldn’t help wishing that she was the lady he was taking out tonight. She’d gleaned that his dinner date was a woman named Sabrina because she’d heard him explaining to Angelina. Lucky Sabrina.

‘I won’t be late. I’ll look in on the little one here before I go to bed. If you hear anything from the hospital…anything at all, you’ve got my cellphone number, haven’t you? I’ll keep it with me.’

‘Of course.’

‘Now, you be a good girl for Rosie, mi angel. Tomorrow after school I will take you to the movies to see that film you have been longing to see. We will eat popcorn and ice cream and forget about everything else but having a good time. Sí?’

‘Yes, Uncle.’ Angelina angled her cheek affectionately for his kiss and at the last minute flung her strong little arms around him and gave him a fierce hug. Javier’s heart went ‘bump’, as it was apt to do every time his beloved niece demonstrated her love for him.

‘Sleep well.’

‘Tell Sabrina I said hello,’ Angelina quipped as he reached the door. Javier smiled.

‘I will be sure to tell her,’ he promised and left the two females to their television programme, feeling just a little more at ease than he had for the past few nights.

‘So you started up the business fifteen years ago?’ Javier concentrated his full attention on his dinner companion. How could he not when she was looking animated and beautiful in her scoop-necked scarlet blouse and slim-fitting black trousers, her gorgeous golden-brown hair rippling unhindered to her waist, every bit as lovely as he’d imagined it would be?

‘I know, fifteen years…makes me sound as old as Methuselah.’

‘But you don’t look as old as Methuselah,’ Javier charmingly assured her. Was she sensitive about her age—this woman with her smile as bright as sunlight and eyes the same stunning blue as a summer sky? She could be no more than thirty-four or thirty-five, surely, and even if she was, what did he care? A woman with a past was always far more interesting, he found, than some inexperienced twenty-year-old who didn’t know her own mind.

‘I feel it sometimes.’ A cloud seemed to slide across the dazzling blue irises. Pouring some more wine into her glass, Javier frowned. ‘Something is troubling you. Want to talk about it?’

Sabrina hesitated. Should she burden this charming, good-looking man with her problems at work? The trouble was, he was so easy to talk to. Already she felt as if she’d known him much longer than the two occasions they’d met. After a generous sip of wine to fortify her blood, she decided to go with her instincts. ‘I promise not to let my troubles dominate the evening.’ She smiled and Javier leant forward, intrigued, his own profound concerns about his family momentarily suspended.

‘My problem is that the business needs to expand, come fully into the twenty-first century, and I can’t raise the capital to do it. We’re even losing some of our oldest customers because they’ve been lured by the tempting promises of all kinds of incentives by the chains, incentives we can’t possibly match. Our equipment is outdated and old-fashioned and the day we met I’d just been turned down by the bank for a loan. At this point I’ve got two very loyal staff members who’ve been with me practically since I started and I feel so bad that, unless I can raise some money to modernise soon, they’ll both be out of a job.’

‘I see.’ His eyes were impossibly dark, Sabrina reflected, her heartbeat racing suddenly. It was the wine, she told herself. She’d better take it easy. More than a couple of glasses and she might—just might—make a complete fool of herself…

‘If I owned a house I’d put that up as collateral but, as I only rent my flat, that isn’t a possibility.’ Shrugging, she tried to dismiss her worries and focus on the man in front of her instead. She’d come out to enjoy herself, not bring everything down by talking about work. Ellie was probably right. She was too fixated on her job. She’d almost forgotten how to have fun.

‘This wine is delicious. Thank you so much for asking me out for the evening. I’m really enjoying myself.’

‘You are very passionate about your business…and loyal to your staff. I admire that, Sabrina.’

‘And what about you, Javier? What are your passions in life?’

‘Don’t you know you can’t ask someone from my country such a question without the same answers?’

‘And that is?’

‘Argentina. I’m from the capital city—Buenos Aires—and my passions are football, politics and—until very recently—living life in the fast lane.’ One corner of his beautiful mouth hitched slightly upwards as if the confession pained him. Even with the wine heating her blood, Sabrina couldn’t fail to pick up on the sudden sadness in his voice. Immediately she felt guilty. They’d spent most of the evening so far talking about her. She wasn’t usually such selfish company—at least she prayed not.

‘So.’ She fixed him with such a direct gaze that Javier suddenly experienced a very disorienting feeling of light-headedness. ‘Something must have happened to change that? Life in the fast lane, I mean.’

Brought back to earth with a bump, Javier felt his stomach muscles knot painfully as he remembered Michael in hospital, Angelina crying herself to sleep and his own life thrown into the worst kind of personal turmoil yet again in the space of eight short years.

‘You are right, something happened,’ he said heavily, loosening his tie. ‘But it is not something I care to talk about right now.’

‘I understand.’ Her voice was softly concerned. ‘I just want you to know that if you felt the need to share what was troubling you, I would be a good listener.’

‘Of that I have no doubt.’ Raising his glass, Javier gave her a small toast. ‘I am wondering why you are alone, Sabrina, or am I being too presumptuous? Is there a man in your life?’

‘Apart from my horrible bank manager, my colleague Robbie and my lovely brother-in-law, Phil?’ Her laugh was uninhibitedly melodic and very, very sexy. The kind of laugh a man didn’t easily forget.

‘No, Javier. I am footloose and fancy-free…whatever that means. Most of my time is taken up by the business. When I’m there, work just takes over, and when I’m not there I spend most of my free time worrying about it. Boring, aren’t I? I don’t think many men would put up with that.’

‘Men who do not welcome a challenge, perhaps.’

What was he saying? Sabrina thought in fright. Would he welcome such a challenge? Her heart did a crazy little dance.

‘And what about the future?’ he wanted to know, dark eyes speculative. ‘Do you see yourself perhaps getting married and having a family?’

It would be too crude to make some flip comment about her biological clock ticking, Sabrina thought, suddenly depressed. Suffice just to tell him no—such a future probably wasn’t on the cards for her personally.

‘Not really. The business is my baby. Oh, it’s not that I don’t love kids, I do. It’s just that—well, I’m not twenty-something any more and, anyway, I’m probably far too set in my ways for any man to want to take on. How about yourself; do you have a lady in your life? Perhaps at home in Argentina?’

Javier thought about Christina, the ‘twenty-something’ beautiful Brazilian model he’d been dating up until a couple of months ago—when he’d come home unexpectedly early one afternoon and found her in bed with his twice-married, chain-smoking neighbour, Carlo. He shrugged. ‘The lady in my life is eleven years old.’ Inevitably a smile found its way to his lips when he spoke about Angelina. He wondered if there was any news from the hospital. He prayed she would get to sleep without tears wetting her pillow tonight.

‘You have a daughter?’ Blue eyes widening with surprise, Sabrina leant towards him across the table, unknowingly treating him to a very tantalising view of her creamy breasts down the scooped neck of her blouse. Heat raced into Javier’s groin and for a moment he was stunned. It had been such a long time since the sight of a beautiful woman could do that to him spontaneously.

He blinked. ‘A niece. My sister’s child, Angelina.’

‘What a pretty name.’

‘Yes.’

The waiter interrupted them with their meal. As he bustled about, laying plates on the white rich linen cloth and replenishing their wine, Sabrina sensed there was an air of sorrow about her companion that tugged at her heartstrings and made her want to know what distressed him so. Right now those impressively broad shoulders of his looked weighed down with the worries of the world and she longed to be able to offer even the smallest crumb of comfort.

‘Everything looks wonderful.’ Picking up her fork, she tried to lighten the mood a little.

Javier smiled that destroyingly slow, thoughtful smile of his that made something in her innermost core clench and tighten with shivery anticipation, and simply said, ‘Eat. Enjoy. Then we will talk some more.’

He accompanied her in a taxi home but didn’t come in when Sabrina offered him coffee, a nightcap or both. Instead he told her how much he’d enjoyed her company, advised her not to worry about the business because he felt sure something good would turn up, and politely kissed her hand. What threw Sabrina completely was that the charmingly old-fashioned gesture was so unbelievably erotic that her legs were shaking when she finally let herself into her flat and closed the door. Dropping down onto her softly patterned couch with its fading beige and green flowers, she briefly closed her eyes and sighed heavily. He hadn’t suggested they see each other again and no doubt she’d blown it by wittering on about the business. A cool, sophisticated, urbane man like Javier D’Alessandro probably thought she was totally boring and one-dimensional, and who could blame him?

When she opened her eyes again she was dismayed to feel tears running down her cheeks. She’d tried so hard to be a success. So hard. And all her parents and Ellie were concerned about was when was she going to settle down with a man and have a brood of kids. The fact that she’d successfully run a business for fifteen years meant nothing to them. Suddenly her life seemed all those things she’d accused herself of being and more and she was very, very sorry for it indeed.

Michael rallied after his latest treatment but the doctors told Javier and Michael’s mother, Angela, that they mustn’t be too hopeful. Too hopeful? The fury Javier experienced in his gut burned him like fire tearing through dry tinder, his Latin temperament rising up in rage against the expected conformity that was supposed to be the acceptable Western reaction to such news. Angela Calder simply squeezed her son’s pale, listless hand with her own beringed elegant one and smiled in calm acquiescence. Too ill to notice, even though he’d been much better all day, Michael too seemed to have resigned himself to what he thought of as the inevitable. When Angela briefly quitted the room to go in search of a cup of tea, Michael gestured Javier to his side and told him he had something important to discuss.

‘Angelina.’ The sick man leant back against the plumped-up white pillows on his hospital bed and forced a smile. Javier immediately felt his throat tighten. It was hard to look at his brother-in-law with all the tubes and medical equipment attached to him without wanting to rip them out and take him home.

‘What about Angelina, Michael?’

‘I want you to adopt her. You’re her closest link to her mother and me. I’d ask Ma but she’s not equipped to take care of a child of eleven. She’s not strong…a worrier. She let my father do everything until he died. And Angelina doesn’t know her that well—she’s not exactly been a constant in her life. Not like she knows you, Javier. Will you do that for me, my friend? Will you be a father to my little girl until she grows up?’

There was a burning sensation in his throat and on his lap Javier’s knuckles squeezed white. ‘It would be an honour, Michael. But you are not going to die…you will get well, sí? The hospital, they are doing everything they can to make you well again. Please, do not give up so easily.’

‘I’m not giving up. I just know what I know, Javier. Please take care of Angelina and don’t take her away from her friends, from all she knows. There must be a way you can stay here. I know it’s a lot to ask…your home is in Argentina, but you have a home here too. You’ve always had a home with us. You know that.’ Michael coughed and went deathly pale. Jumping up beside him, Javier gently squeezed his shoulder.

‘Michael! Shall I call someone?’ He was already turning away, hurrying to the door, pulling it wide and glancing up and down the thickly carpeted corridor for a nurse.

‘Javier.’

He returned to Michael’s bedside, his heart pounding.

‘What is it? I am here.’

‘Promise me. Promise me you’ll adopt Angelina? I’ve got to know if you will do this for me.’

Taking the other man’s hand in his own, Javier squeezed it as hard as he dared. His chest feeling as if it was in a vice, he managed to dredge up a smile, thinking, This is too hard, too cruel for anyone to bear; first Dorothea, now Michael.

‘I promise, Michael. I give you my word.’

As the nurse bustled into the room, pushing the drugs trolley ahead of her with a cheery smile that made Javier want to curse, he excused himself, telling his brother-in-law that he needed to get out and get some air—to walk and think and come up with some kind of a plan.

He’d hardly known where his feet were leading him until he found himself outside East-West Travel. There were two other customers in the shop today, one seated opposite the young blonde woman he’d seen on his first visit, and the other engaged in conversation with a man who appeared to be in his late thirties. His brown hair was thinning on top and he wore pale steel-framed glasses that made his colourless face seem even paler. There was no sign of Sabrina. Perhaps she had gone to lunch? Glancing down at his watch, Javier saw that it was just past eleven in the morning. Coffee break, then? He’d never know until he went in and asked.

Jill glanced up in surprise as she recognised the incredibly good-looking male who walked through the door.

‘Hello there,’ she said cheerily. ‘Looking for Sabrina?’

‘Sí. I mean yes. Is she around?’

‘She’s in the back.’ She pointed vaguely in the direction of the little room at the end. ‘Busy doing paperwork.’

‘Then I won’t disturb her.’ Frustrated, Javier went to walk away.

Jill waved him to a stop. ‘Don’t be silly! There’s nothing Sabrina likes better than to be distracted from her paperwork. Go on through. She might even have the kettle on.’

His first glimpse of Sabrina was her back. She was wearing a formal blue skirt and jacket, her delightful hair caught up in some intricate tortoiseshell comb, her stockinged feet bare. At the moment one small, slender foot was easing its way up and down the back of her calf as if to soothe the strain that was there. He heard her proffer up a very unladylike curse beneath her breath as she studied some papers on top of an antiquated steel filing cabinet, and couldn’t help but smile.

‘Hello there. Your colleague said it was all right if I came through.’

Her heart knocking wildly against her ribs, Sabrina spun round, took one look at Javier D’Alessandro and found her greeting jammed in her throat. Wearing a stylish black coat over black jeans and a navy-blue cashmere sweater, the man looked like a million dollars. The citrus, woody tang of his aftershave wafted round the room, tightening her insides, instinctively making her want to retreat behind her professional mask for protection.

‘It’s nice to see you again.’ Smoothing down her skirt, she smiled. She was the first good thing that had happened to him all day, Javier acknowledged. Perhaps it would make it easier to broach the subject he had come to talk to her about? He hoped so.

‘You too. I was wondering if we could talk a little?’

Taken aback, Sabrina tucked a stray glossy strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Of course. Is here all right? I know it’s a bit cramped but I don’t really have anywhere else to—’

‘I noticed a park across the road.’ Javier jerked his head vaguely in that direction. ‘Can we take a walk?’

‘Why not? I could do with some fresh air, to tell you the truth. I’ll just get my coat.’

The winding concrete path into the ornamental gardens was littered with the colourful debris of autumn leaves. As they walked along side by side, Sabrina shivered inside her warm camel-coloured coat, wishing she’d thought to add her scarf to the hastily donned outer clothing. A tremendous gust of wind whooshed past her ear just then, and she shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets and turned her head to grin at the man beside her.

‘Tenerife is sounding more and more attractive by the minute, wouldn’t you say?’ she announced cheerfully. ‘Coming from a warm climate, this weather must seem positively Arctic to you!’

‘My country has an amazing diversity of climates and landscapes. Don’t forget we’ve got the snowcapped Andes as well as acres of hot, humid jungle. But yes, I do agree, by my home city’s standards, it is pretty cold.’ As he smiled back at her with something like pleasure in those deep, dark eyes with their straight black lashes, it was still clear that Javier had something on his mind other than the weather.

In for a penny… Sabrina decided to bite the bullet. Best clear the air and get whatever it was he had to say out of the way, then maybe, just maybe, she could suggest they meet for lunch later on in the week? She could practically hear Ellie cheering on the sidelines. Sabrina had never—not even once—asked a man out on a date. Well, there was a first time for everything, so they said…

‘You wanted to talk. Was it something in particular?’

Spying a weatherworn bench near a thick clump of hedgerow, Javier jerked his head towards it. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we sat down?’

For some reason, Sabrina’s heartbeat thundered in her chest as she sat down beside him. Where previously they’d been companionable, something in the air had shifted perceptibly and there was a new tension emanating from the big, handsome man sitting next to her. Once again Sabrina shivered, but this time not with the cold.

‘I can help you with your business,’ he said without preamble.

‘What did you say?’ She’d heard but couldn’t begin to make sense of such a statement.

‘I will give you the money—whatever the amount—as well as my expertise and knowledge to help you modernise the business and bring it into the twenty-first century.’

Sabrina’s pale hand curled tightly round the wrought-iron arm rest of the bench. ‘What’s all this about, Javier? I don’t understand.’