Читать книгу Australia: Sinful Secrets: Public Marriage, Private Secrets / Every Girl's Secret Fantasy / The Heart Surgeon's Secret Child - Robyn Grady, Helen Bianchin - Страница 8

A NOTE propped within easy visibility rested on the counter when Gianna entered the kitchen.

I’ve eaten. Help yourself. The jet leaves at nine for Mallorca. R

There was a sense of relief in eating alone, and she selected cereal, fruit, and strong sweet black coffee, then checked the newspaper headlines, surprised at how easily she recalled her fluency with the Spanish language.

Soon Carlos would drive her to the airport where she’d board the Velez-Saldaña jet for Mallorca. Where at least she’d be free from Raúl’s presence.

Sure, he’d fly in on occasion to visit with Teresa…but not every day.

Short social visits she could cope with, she rationalised a few minutes before nine, as she transferred toiletries into her bag, closed the zip and emerged into the lounge.

Raúl was already there, conducting a conversation in French on his cellphone. Not exactly a surprise—business encompassed a large part of his life.

Unless he was touching base with a woman…the mere thought of which sent unexpected pain lancing through her body.

She shifted her gaze and felt her heart jolt at the sight of a large overnight bag resting on the floor at his feet.

Please tell me he doesn’t intend to visit Mallorca.

Although why shouldn’t he? Teresa was his mother, and he’d been absent in Australia for a week.

At that moment he cut the call and turned towards her.

‘Good morning. Ready?’

‘Hi,’ she said evenly, and indicated her bag. ‘Yes.’

‘Let’s go.’ He collected both bags and together they exited the apartment, took the lift down to ground level, where Carlos waited ready to drive them to the airport.

The flight to Mallorca was uneventful, their arrival low-key, with a car and driver waiting to transport them to Teresa’s luxury villa in Calvià.

There was something magical about the Balearic Islands…especially Mallorca, Gianna reflected, with its mansions and villas, the lush green hills and the sparkling waters. It was a true panoramic vista that always stirred Gianna’s senses…offering tranquillity and a slower pace than Madrid.

Teresa’s villa was situated on elevated landscaped land with carefully tended gardens, whose multi-coloured flora were scrupulously maintained. High ornate gates guarded entrance to a semi-circular driveway which led to a beautiful two-level home whose massive double wooden bronze-studded doors were open in welcome.

It was there Teresa greeted them—a slender woman of average height in her early sixties, who hugged Gianna close with obvious affection before she turned to her son and embraced him as he lowered his head, touching her lips first to one cheek, then the other.

‘You brought her to me,’ Teresa said softly. ‘Thank you.’

Raúl held Teresa close, then gently brushed his lips to her forehead in a gesture that tore at Gianna’s heartstrings.

‘Yes,’ he responded softly. ‘Anything you ask of me.’

Which begged the question—had he been reluctant to comply with Teresa’s wishes? And, if so, why? Because he’d moved on? Was Raúl contemplating divorce proceedings, too, as she already had?

And why did that possibility suddenly cause a shaft of pain? It hardly made sense. But then what did in the current scenario…except a mutual love and affection for Teresa?

The only reason Gianna had agreed to travel to Mallorca.

‘I’ve had Elena prepare two suites in the guest wing,’ Teresa began. ‘Raúl, feel free to make use of the home office while you’re here.’

Raúl was staying? Dear heaven…for how long?

Not…please…for the entire two weeks, surely? He had a huge conglomerate to oversee. Yet with modern technology he could do that from almost anywhere in the world.

A fact which irked her unbearably, and she barely veiled the gleam of anger threatening to appear in her vivid blue eyes.

A faint smile teased the edges of his mouth, almost as if he could read the passage of her thoughts.

‘Go freshen up—change if you wish,’ Teresa offered. ‘Then join me for coffee on the terrace. It’s very peaceful there at this time of day.’

Sadly, Gianna noticed, Teresa’s slender frame had diminished a little, and the beautiful dark eyes appeared to have lost some of their sparkle.

Gianna’s heart ached, and she fought to keep the unbidden well of tears at bay as she turned towards the staircase.

The villa was well planned, its physical structure comprising a large central area containing a spacious marble-tiled entry foyer, high ceilings and a wide sweeping staircase curving to the upper level, dividing the villa into two wings. One of them was devoted to Teresa’s private rooms, while the opposite housed four guest suites. At ground level a large formal lounge and dining room, media and entertainment rooms fanned to the right of the entry foyer, with library, home office and informal lounge and dining room housed to the left. A spacious kitchen, utility rooms and staff quarters were contained in an adjoining building and connected to the villa by an enclosed walkway.

Teresa loved to entertain, Gianna reflected as she ascended the magnificent staircase, and was a dedicated fundraiser for children’s charities. Her Madrid mansion had often been thrown open to host a variety of functions.

Mallorca was Teresa’s sanctuary, providing a low-key lifestyle where she retreated to relax and unwind. Now she’d made it her permanent home.

‘Choose, Gianna.’

The sound of Raúl’s drawl brought her back to the present, and she lifted a hand in a non-committal gesture. ‘Any one will be fine.’

‘As long as it’s not mine?’

She spared him a dark look. ‘That doesn’t even qualify for an answer.’ With that, she moved past him and entered the suite at the end of the hallway. Only to discover he’d followed in her wake. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

One eyebrow slanted with musing cynicism as he deposited her bag at the end of the large bed. ‘I imagine you’ll want to unpack.’

Gianna schooled her voice to be cool, polite. ‘Thank you.’

He inclined his head, and she was willing to swear she glimpsed amusement in those dark eyes an instant before he turned and left the suite.

Day one, she accorded wryly. Thirteen more to go. Please God, he wouldn’t stay for all those remaining.

Each of the guest suites was spacious and lavishly decorated, with handcrafted furniture, walk-in wardrobes, and an adjoining en suite bathroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view over lush manicured lawns and gardens to the ocean.

Beautiful, she complimented silently. Tranquil, she added. It came as no surprise Teresa had chosen to spend time here, for a sense of peace permeated the air.

A double knock on the door provided a timely interruption, and when she opened it, Raúl was standing in the aperture.

‘If you’re ready, we’ll go down together.’

To refuse would be churlish, not to mention impolite. Yet she had this innate desire to contest his every word and action. Which amounted to being childish, she castigated herself silently.

She was a woman of the world—confident, savvy and no longer blinded by her emotions.

‘Why not?’ She even managed a slight smile, something which brought a gleam of amusement to his eyes before he successfully masked it.

Chilled fresh fruit juice, aromatic black coffee, iced water and bite-size pastries were laid out on the table when they crossed through open glass doors to the terrace where Teresa was already seated.

‘Ah, there you are.’ The warm greeting held affection as Teresa indicated the table. ‘Come, sit down and help yourselves.’

There was a tendency to say You look well…except that wasn’t entirely true, Gianna acknowledged. Nor did it seem appropriate to offer How do you feel? Instead she said gently, ‘It’s lovely to be here with you.’

Teresa smiled, and her features came alive. ‘My dear, the pleasure is all mine.’

It was impossible not to be affected by Raúl’s presence, for no matter how hard she tried he was there…a disturbing entity which caused her heartbeat to quicken and put her on edge.

Did he know? Possibly. Although she fervently hoped not.

‘Tomorrow I thought we might relax and catch up in person,’ Teresa ventured. ‘And my dear friend Adriana has issued an invitation for us to join her and a few close friends for lunch later in the week.’

‘Whatever pleases you—providing you don’t become overtired,’ Raúl cautioned.

‘Please, I’d be much happier simply spending time here with you,’ Gianna added quickly.

Teresa merely smiled. ‘And so you shall. But occasionally we will venture out a little. A change of pace, to share time with friends.’ She caught her son’s hooded gaze. ‘You have my word I will rest for a few hours each afternoon.’

‘We shall personally see that you do.’

We… What did he think he was doing, coupling them together? Another thing to add to the growing list of issues she intended to take up with him when they were alone.

Lunch was a convivial meal Elena prepared for them, followed by the siesta. Time which Gianna used to access her laptop, e-mail Ben, Annaliese and update her father as to her whereabouts.

It was after dinner, when Teresa had retired for the evening, that Gianna questioned Elena as to where she might find Raúl.

‘The señor is in the office.’

Perfect. It took her only minutes to reach it, and she knocked once as a courtesy before entering the spacious room.

Raúl glanced up, inclined his head, indicated a chair, then continued talking on his cellphone as he keyed data into a laptop.

It was a terse conversation in Spanish, most of which she understood. Not entirely pleasant, she perceived as he cut the connection and met her gaze with unwavering attention.

‘You have something on your mind?’

‘Yes,’ Gianna acknowledged succinctly, and glimpsed his wry smile as he eased back in his office chair and folded his hands behind his head.

‘Which you intend to spell out in detail?’

‘Put money on it.’

His slightly arched eyebrow had her launching into speech.

‘What’s with coupling my name with yours?’ Her eyes flashed blue fire. ‘There is no we.’

‘You have a problem agreeing Teresa should conserve her energy and rest?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Therefore your objection is…?’

She wanted to throw something at him, and she briefly weighed up a few possible items on the desk, caught the way his eyes darkened in silent warning…and refused to be intimidated.

‘Dammit, I don’t need you to speak on my behalf.’

His eyes seared her own, watchful, assessing. ‘It bothers you that Teresa requested I join her in spending time with you?’

Teresa had? ‘You could have told me.’

His eyes didn’t move from her own. ‘To what purpose?’

Because I could have prepared myself.

How stupid was that?

Nothing she did would have made a difference…not before or now.

Raúl was a force unto himself, with the power to damage her emotional heart. And she hated him for it. What was worse, she hated herself for being so foolishly vulnerable.

‘Just know I’m not happy about it,’ she said at last. ‘The less time we spend in each other’s company, the better.’

He inclined his head. ‘Anything else?’

Whatever made her think she could verbally best him?

‘Not at the moment.’

‘Are you sure about that, querida?’ he taunted softly, and watched faint pink colour her cheeks as she looked at him in stark disbelief.

‘If you think…’ Words temporarily failed her. ‘Are you mad?’

Yet the thought of his mouth on her own…his hands shaping her body…Oh, God, she had to get out of here.

‘Go to hell.’ She hated that her voice sounded shaky as she turned and walked from the room.

Damn him. The curse pounded silently in her mind as she crossed the hallway and entered her suite. She was so impossibly angry…with him, herself.

The temptation to pack a bag, call a taxi and take the first flight to Madrid, then home was almost impossible to ignore.

Yet how could she leave when she’d committed to spend time with Teresa? The analogy caught between a rock and a hard place seemed incredibly apt.

So simmer down—do a few calisthenics to work off the anger, shower, then retire to bed with a book.

It was a feasible plan and she went through the motions, donned sleep trousers, tank top, and slid into bed to read until the words blurred.