Читать книгу The Holiday Escapes Collection - Сандра Мартон - Страница 76

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THEY FLEW EARLY the next morning, over the lush hills of Spain to the north, and even as his jet made light work of the miles there was a mounting tension. Had they run out of time?

Far from anger from Raúl, there was relief when Angela came out of the door to greet them, a wary smile on her face.

‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Welcome.’

She gave Estelle a kiss on the cheek, and gave one too to Raúl. ‘We can do this,’ she said to him, even as he pulled back. ‘For your father. For one day…’

Raúl nodded and they headed through to the lounge.

If Estelle was shocked at the change in his father, it must be hell for Raúl.

‘Hey,’ he greeted his son. ‘You took your time.’

‘I’m here now,’ Raúl said. ‘Congratulations on your wedding.’ He handed Antonio a bottle of champagne as he kissed him on the cheek. ‘I thought we could have a toast to you both later.’

‘I finally make an honest woman of her,’ Antonio said.

Estelle watched as Raúl bit back a smart response. There really was no time for barbs.

‘Your brother is flying in from Bilbao tonight. Will you stay for dinner?’ Antonio’s eyes held a challenge.

‘I’m not sure that we can stay…’

‘A meeting between the two of you is inevitable,’ Antonio said. ‘Unless you boycott my funeral. I am to be buried here,’ he added.

She watched Raúl’s jaw tighten as he told his son that this was the home he loved. Yet he had denied his first son the chance of having a real home.

‘I will make a drink,’ Angela said to Estelle. ‘Perhaps you could help me?’

Estelle went into the kitchen with her. It was large and homely, and even though she was hoping to keep things calm for Raúl, Estelle was angry on his behalf.

‘We will leave them to it,’ Angela said as Estelle sat at the table. ‘You look tired.’

‘Raúl doesn’t live a very quiet life.’

‘I know.’ Angela smiled and handed her a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of croissants.

Estelle took a sip of her chocolate, but it was far too sickly and she put the cup back down.

‘I can make you honey tea,’ Angela offered. ‘That is what I had when…’ Her voice trailed off as she saw the panic in Estelle’s eyes and realised she must not want anyone to know yet. To Angela it was obvious—she hadn’t seen Estelle since her wedding day, and despite the suntan her face was pale, and there were subtle changes that only a woman might notice. ‘Perhaps your stomach is upset from flying.’

‘I’m fine,’ Estelle said, deliberately taking another sip.

‘I am worried that when Antonio dies I will see no more of Raúl…’

Estelle bit her lip. Frankly she wouldn’t blame him. Because being here, seeing first-hand evidence of years of lies and deceit, she understood a little better the darkness of his pain.

‘He is like a son to me.’

Estelle simply couldn’t stay quiet. ‘From a distance?’ She repeated Angela’s own words from the wedding day and then looked around. There were pictures of Luka, who looked like a younger Raúl.

‘Raúl is here too.’ Angela pointed to a photo.

‘He wasn’t, though.’ Estelle could not stand the pretence. ‘You had a home here—whereas Raúl was being shuffled between his aunt and uncle, occasionally seeing his dad.’

‘It was more complicated than that.’

‘Not really.’ Estelle simply could not see it. ‘You say you think of him as a son, and yet…’

‘We did everything the doctor said,’ Angela wrung her hands. ‘I need to tell you this—because if Raúl refuses to speak with me ever again, then this much I would like you to know. The first two years of Luka’s life Antonio hardly saw him. He did everything to help Raúl get well, and that included keeping Luka a secret. The doctor said Raul needed his home, needed familiarity. How could we rip him away from his family and his house? How could we move him to a new town when the doctor insisted on keeping things as close to normal as possible?’

Estelle gave a small shrug. ‘It would have been hard on him, but surely no harder than losing his mother. He thought it was because of something he had said to her.’

‘How could we have known that?’

‘You could have spoken to him. You could have asked him about what happened. Instead you were up here, with his dad.’

There was a long stretch of silence, finally broken by Angela. ‘Raúl hasn’t told you, has he?’

‘He’s told me everything.’

‘Did Raúl tell you that he was silent for a year?’ She watched as Estelle’s already pale face drained of colour. ‘We did not know what happened that day, for Raúl could not tell us. The trauma of being trapped with his dead mother…’

‘How long were they trapped for?’

‘For the night,’ Angela said. ‘They went over a cliff. It would seem Gabriella died on impact. When the médicos got there he was still begging her to wake up. He kept telling her he was sorry. Once they released him he said nothing for more than a year. How could we take him from his home, from his bed? How could we tell him there was a brother?’

‘Excuse me—’

Estelle retched and cried into the toilet, and then tried to hold it together. Raúl did not need her drama today. So she rinsed her mouth and combed her hair, then headed back just as Raúl was coming out from the lounge.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Of course.’

‘My father is going to have a rest. As you heard, my brother is coming for dinner tonight. I have agreed that we will stay.’

Estelle nodded.

‘Somehow we will get through dinner without killing each other, and then,’ Raúl said, ‘as my reward for behaving…’ He smiled and pulled her in, whispered something crude in her ear.

Far from being offended, Estelle smiled and then whispered into his ear. ‘I can do it now if you want.’

She felt him smile on her cheek, a little shocked by her response.

‘It can wait.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you for today. Without you I would not be here.’

‘How is he?’

‘Frail…sick…’

‘He loves you.’

‘I know,’ Raúl said. ‘And because I love him also, we will get through tonight.’

* * *

She wasn’t so sure they’d get through it when she met Luka. He was clearly going through the motions just for the sake of his parents. Angela was setting up dinner in the garden and Antonio was sitting in the lounge. It was Estelle who got there first, and opened the door as Raúl walked down the hall.

The camera did not lie: he was a younger version of Raúl—and an angrier one too.

Luka barely offered a greeting, just walked into his family home where it seemed there were now two bulls in the same paddock. He refused Raúl’s hand when he held it out to him and cussed and then spoke in rapid Spanish.

‘What did he say?’ Estelle asked as Luka strode through.

‘Something about the prodigal son’s homecoming and to save the acting for in front of his father.’

‘Come on,’ Estelle said. There would be time for dwelling on it later.

He caught her wrist. ‘You’re earning your keep tonight.’

He saw the grit of her teeth and the flash of her eyes.

‘Do you do it deliberately, Raúl?’ she asked ‘Does it help to remind me of my place on a night like tonight?’

‘I am sorry. What I meant was that things are particularly strained. When I asked you I never anticipated bringing you here. Certainly I never thought I would set foot in this house.’

They could not discuss it properly here, so for now she gave him the benefit of the doubt. They went out to the garden, where Luka was talking with his father, and they all sat at the table for what should have been a most difficult dinner. Instead, for the most part, it was nice. It was little uncomfortable at first, but soon conversation was flowing as Estelle helped Angela to bring out the food.

‘I never thought I would see this day,’ Antonio said. ‘My family all at the same table…’

Antonio would never see it again.

He was so frail and weak it was clear this would be the last time. It was for that reason, perhaps, that Luka and Raúl attempted to be amicable.

‘You work in Bilbao?’ Raúl asked.

‘I do,’ Luka said. ‘Investment banking.’

‘I had heard of you even before this,’ Raúl said. ‘You are making a name for yourself.’

‘And you.’ Luka smiled but it did not meet his eyes. ‘I hear about your many acquisitions…’

Thank God for morphine, Estelle thought, because Antonio just smiled and did not pick up on the tension.

The food was amazing—a mixture of dishes from the north and south of Spain. There was pringá, an Andalusian dish that was a slow-cooked mixture of meats and had been Raúl’s favourite as a child. And there was

marmitako too, a dish from the Basque Country, which was full of potatoes and pimientos and, Antonio said, had kept him going for so long.

‘So you study?’ Antonio said to Estelle.

‘Ancient architecture.’ Estelle nodded. ‘Although, I haven’t been doing much lately.’

‘Yes, what happened to your online studies?’ Raúl teased.

‘Sol’s happened.’ Estelle smiled.

Raúl laughed. ‘Being married to me is a full-time job…’

Raúl used the words she had used about Gordon. It was a gentle tease, a joke that caused a ripple of laughter—

except their eyes met for a brief moment and it hurt her that he was speaking the truth.

It was a job, Estelle reminded herself. A job that would soon be over. But then she thought of the life that grew inside her, the baby that must have the two most mismatched parents in the world.

Not that Raúl knew it.

He thought she loved the clubs and the parties, whereas sitting and eating with his family, as difficult as it was, was where she would rather be. This night, for Estelle, was one of the best.

‘You would love San Sebastian.’ Antonio carried on speaking to her. ‘The architecture is amazing. Raúl, you should take Estelle and explore with her. Take her to the Basilica of Santa Maria—there is so much she would love to see…’

‘Estelle would prefer to go out dancing at night. Anyway,’ Raúl quipped, ‘I haven’t been inside a church for years.’

‘You will be inside one soon,’ his father warned. ‘And you should share in your wife’s interests.’

Estelle watched thankfully as Raúl took a drink rather than delivering a smart response to his father’s marital advice.

And, as much as she’d love to explore the amazing city, she and Raúl were simply too different. And the most bizarre thing was Raúl didn’t even know that they were.

She tried to imagine a future: Raúl coming home from a night out to a crying baby, or to nannies, or having access weekends. And she tried to picture the life she would have to live in Spain if she wanted his support.

Estelle remembered the menace in his voice when he had warned that he didn’t want children and decided then that she would never tell him while this contract was between them. When she was back home in England and there was distance, when she could tell him without breaking down, or hang up on him if she was about to, then she would confess.

And there would be no apology either. Estelle surged in sudden defensiveness for her child—she wasn’t going to start its life by apologising for its existence. However Raúl dealt with the news was up to him.

‘So…’ Still Antonio was focused on Estelle. ‘You met last year?’

‘We did.’ Estelle smiled.

‘When he said he was seeing an ex, I thought it was that…’ Antonio snapped his fingers. ‘The one with the strange name. The one he really liked.’

‘Antonio.’ Angela chided, but he was too doped up on morphine for inhibition.

‘Araminta!’ Antonio said suddenly.

‘Ah, yes, Araminta.’ Estelle smiled sweetly to her husband. ‘Was that the one making a play for you at Donald’s wedding?’

‘That’s the one.’ Raúl actually looked uncomfortable.

‘You were serious for a long time,’ Antonio commented.

Estelle glanced up, saw a black smile on Luka’s face.

‘Weren’t you engaged to her?’ he asked. ‘I remember my mother saying that she thought there might soon be a wedding.’

‘Luka,’ Angela warned. ‘Raúl’s wife is here.’

‘It’s fine,’ Estelle attempted—except her cheeks were on fire. She was as jealous as if she had just found out about a bit of her husband’s past she’d neither known of nor particularly liked. ‘If I’d needed to know about all of Raúl’s past before I married him we’d barely have got to his twenties by now.’

She should have left it there, but there was a white-hot feeling tearing up her throat when she thought of how he’d so cruelly dismissed Araminta—and that was someone he’d once cared about.

It was for that reason her words were tart when she shot Raúl a look. ‘Though you failed to mention you’d ever been engaged.’

‘We were never engaged.’

‘Please!’

Antonio’s crack of laughter caught them all by surprise and he raised a glass to Estelle. ‘Finally you have met your match.’

It wasn’t a long night. Antonio soon tired, and as they headed inside Luka farewelled his father fondly. But the look he gave to Estelle and Raúl told them both he didn’t need them to see him to the door in his home.

They headed for bed. Estelle was a bit embarrassed by her earlier outburst, especially as everyone else seemed to have managed to behave well tonight.

‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ she said as she undressed and climbed into bed. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything about Araminta.’

‘You did well,’ Raúl said. ‘My father actually believes us now.’

He thought she had been acting, Estelle realised. But she hadn’t been.

It felt very different sleeping in his father’s home from sleeping in Raúl’s apartment or on his yacht. Even Raúl’s ardour was tempered, and for the first time since she had married him Estelle put on her glasses and pulled out a book. It was the same book she had been reading the day she had met him, about the mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor.

She was still on the same page.

As soon as this was over she was going to focus on her studies. It had been impossible even to attempt online learning with Raúl around.

‘Read me the dirty bits,’ Raúl said, and when she didn’t comment he took the book from her and looked at the title. ‘Well, that will keep it down.’

For his effort he got a half smile.

‘You really like all that stuff?’

‘I do.’

His hand was on her hip, stroking slowly down. ‘They should hear us arguing now,’ he teased lightly. ‘You demanding details about my past.’

‘I don’t need to know.’

‘My time in Scotland was amazing.’ Raúl spoke on regardless. ‘I shared a house with Donald and a couple of others. For the first time since my mother died I had one bedroom, one home, a group of friends. We had wild times but it was all good. Then I met Araminta, we started going out, and I guess it was as close to love as I have ever come. But, no, we were never engaged.’

‘I really don’t need to hear about it.’ She turned to him angrily. ‘Do you remember the way you spoke to her?’ She struggled to keep her voice down. ‘The way you treated her?’ She looked at his black eyes, imagined running into him a few years from now and being flicked away like an annoying fly. She wasn’t hurting for Araminta, Estelle realised. She was hurting for herself—for a time in her future without him.

‘So, should I have slept with her as she requested?’

‘No!’

‘Should I have danced with her when she asked?’

Estelle hated that he was right.

‘Anyway, we were never engaged. Her father looked down on me because I didn’t come with some inherited title, so I ended things.’

‘You dumped her for that?’

‘She was lucky I gave a reason,’ Raúl said.

Estelle let out a tense breath—he could be so arrogant and cold at times.

‘Normally I don’t.’

She returned to her book, tried to pick up where she had left off. Just as she would try to pick up her life in a few weeks’ time. Except now everything had changed.

‘Put down the book,’ Raúl said.

‘I’m reading.’

‘You are the slowest reader I have ever met,’ Raúl teased. ‘If we ever watch a movie with subtitles we will have to pause every frame.’

She gave up pretending to read, and as she took off her glasses and put down the book he was suddenly serious.

‘Not that we will be watching many more movies.’

She lay on her pillow and faced him.

‘I could not have done this without you,’ Raúl said. ‘I nearly didn’t come here in time.’ He brushed her hair back from his face with her hand.

‘You made it, though.’

‘It will be over soon.’ He looked into her eyes and didn’t know if he was dreading his father dying or that soon she would be gone. ‘You’ll be back to your studies…’

‘And you’ll be back on your yacht, partying along the coastline.’

‘We could maybe go out on the yacht this weekend?’ Was he starting to think of her in ways that he had sworn not to? Or was he simply not thinking straight, given that he was here? ‘We had a good time.’

‘We did have a good time,’ Estelle said, but then she shook her head, because she was tired of running away from the world with Raúl. ‘But can we just leave it at that?’

She did not want to taint the memory—didn’t want to return to the yacht with hope, only to find out that what they had found there no longer existed.

But for one more night it did.

He held her face and kissed her—a very slow kiss that tasted tender. She felt as if they were back on the boat, could almost hear the lap of the water as he pulled her closer to him and wrapped her in his arms, urged her to join him in one final escape.

Estelle did.

She kissed him as though she were his wife in more than name. She kissed him as though they were really the family they were pretending to be, sharing and loving each other through difficult times.

He had never known a kiss like it; her hands were in his hair, her mouth was one with his, their bodies were meshing, so familiar with each other now. And he wanted her in his bed for ever.

‘Estelle….’ He was on the edge of saying something he must not, so he made love to her instead.

His hands roamed her body; he kissed her hard as he slid inside her. Side on, they faced each other as he moved and neither closed their eyes.

‘Estelle?’

He said it again. It was a question now—a demand to know how she felt. She could feel him building inside her but she was holding back—not on her orgasm. She was holding back on telling him how she felt. They were making love and they both knew it, though neither dared to admit it.

She stared at this man who had her heart. She didn’t even need to kiss him to feel his mouth, because deep inside he consumed her. She was pressing her hips into him, her orgasm so low and intense that he moaned as she gripped him. He closed his eyes as he joined her, then forced them open just to watch the blush on her cheeks, the grimace on her face, just to see the face he loved come to him.

She knew he would turn away from her afterwards. Knew they had taken things too far, that there had been true tenderness.

She looked at the scar on his back and waited till dawn for his breathing to quicken, for Raúl to awake abruptly and take her as he did most mornings.

It never happened.