Grace was totally disconcerted by the two people seated at the table Maria had set earlier with silver flatware and crystal glasses.
The man was probably in his late fifties or early sixties, tall and dark-haired, a touch of distinguished grey at his temples, with jet-black eyes in a sculptured and handsome face; a physical likeness so similar to Cesar that the two men had to be related.
The woman seated beside him was probably in her early to mid fifties; tall and very slender, the black fitted dress she wore a perfect foil for her chic cap of pale blonde hair. There was no single feature that proclaimed her as also being related to Cesar, and her eyes were a warm blue in her smoothly beautiful face, and yet again Grace felt that jolt of recognition.
Cesar’s hand was pressed against the small of Grace’s back as he gently pushed her further into the room. ‘Come and be introduced to my parents,’ he drawled mockingly as Grace turned to look at him with accusing eyes.
Grace had spent most of the evening imagining Cesar in the dining-room charming the beautiful woman he intended taking to his bed later that night, and all the time his two dinner guests had been his mother and father?
The parents who had separated several years after the death of their toddler daughter, when it became too painful for them to remain together, had come together this evening to celebrate their son’s birthday?
Carlos Navarro stood up politely as Grace reached the table and Cesar made the introductions. ‘The meal was excellent, Miss Blake.’ He gave her a courtly bow.
‘It sure was.’ Esther Navarro smiled as she stood up to come round the table and kiss Grace more warmly on both cheeks. ‘If you ever get tired of working for my son, then be sure and let me know.’ She gave the scowling Cesar a teasing glance before turning back to Grace. ‘New York would just love you, Grace; have you ever been there?’
‘Er—no,’ she answered stiltedly, still feeling slightly wrong-footed by the identity of Cesar’s dinner guests, even more so by Esther Navarro’s obvious warmth of nature. A warmth and openness that was so much in contrast to her politely reserved husband and coldly remote son.
‘You’d just love it, honey,’ the older woman assured her.
‘Stop trying to steal my employees, Mama,’ Cesar drawled dryly. ‘Grace lives with her younger sister in London, and has no interest in relocating to America.’
Grace was very aware that the warmth of his hand still rested against her lower back, almost but not quite touching the curve of her bottom.
As aware as she was that she had made a complete fool of herself a few minutes ago with her comments about chocolate mousse and seduction.
As aware as she was, from the amused glitter in Cesar’s eyes now as he looked down at her, that he was completely aware of those feelings of embarrassment, and the reason for them!
Her back stiffened resolutely. ‘Maybe Beth would like to go with me? I’m sure she would love the chance to work for a New York publisher.’ She barely resisted gasping out loud as Cesar’s response was to allow his hand to move slowly downwards until it lightly gripped one cheek of her bottom. ‘Or not...’ Grace added faintly, hoping—praying!—that neither Esther nor Carlos Navarro was aware of their son’s overfamiliarity towards the woman who was his cook.
‘Go get another cup from the kitchen, Cesar, and bring it through to the drawing-room?’ Esther Navarro prompted lightly. ‘Then Grace can join us all for coffee while I try to persuade her into coming back to New York with me. Or, at the very least, giving me the recipe for her chocolate mousse!’ she added with a chuckle.
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly—’
‘Cesar?’ his mother repeated with gentle firmness over Grace’s protest.
‘There really is no need for you to persuade me into anything,’ Grace assured her quickly. ‘I’ll be quite happy to write out the recipe for the chocolate mousse and Ces—Mr Navarro—’ she gave a wince at her slip ‘—can give it to you tomorrow.’
A slip Esther Navarro was only too aware of if the speculation in those warm blue eyes was any indication. ‘Carlos?’ she prompted her husband lightly.
‘You will quickly learn, as we all have, that it is easier to give in to my wife than to fight her, Miss Blake,’ Carlos Navarro said with obvious affection, before turning smilingly to his son. ‘Another cup, Cesar.’
Cesar’s fingers gave one last warning—just short of painful—squeeze of Grace’s bottom, before he released her and stepped back. ‘As my father said, it is far easier to simply acquiesce when my mother makes up her mind to do something,’ he agreed with that same affection, but still managing to give Grace one last mocking glance before turning and leaving the dining-room in search of the requested fourth coffee cup.
She turned to give Esther Navarro an admiring glance. ‘I’ll happily give you the recipe for the chocolate mousse right now if you’ll only tell me how you did that!’
The older woman gave a throaty chuckle. ‘Like his father, Cesar’s bark is much worse than his bite!’ She linked her arm through Grace’s. ‘Now let’s go and make ourselves cosy on the sofa in the drawing-room and visit for a while.’
Two hours, a pot of Cesar Navarro’s special blend of coffee and a glass of brandy later, and Grace knew that ‘visiting’ with his mother consisted of pleasant conversation that was nevertheless designed to draw her guests into talking about themselves and their families, interspersed with laughter, as Esther related several amusing stories from Cesar’s childhood.
Stories that had made Cesar squirm, and that contained no mention of the little girl the Navarro family had lost.
Nevertheless, Grace felt totally relaxed in Esther Navarro’s company by the time the older couple departed, as if she had known the other woman for years.
‘Leave that for now.’
Grace was in the process of tidying the coffee cups onto the tray when Cesar returned to the lamplit drawing-room after escorting his parents down to their car. She straightened to look across at him quizzically as he moved to pour two more glasses of brandy. ‘They still love each other.’
‘Yes,’ he confirmed huskily as he handed her one of the glasses.
‘Is there no chance they—?’ She broke off, realising that she was broaching a very private subject to the Navarro family.
‘That they might be reconciled?’ Cesar finished wistfully, running a hand through the tousled length of his dark hair. ‘After all this time, I think not. They meet once a year for my birthday.’ He gave Grace an apologetic grimace for not revealing the identity of his guests to her earlier. ‘Stay the night together at my father’s home in the City, and then the following day my mother returns to New York.’
‘But surely, if they love each other— I’m sorry, please just tell me to mind my own business if I’m being too personal?’ She looked up at him anxiously.
He removed his jacket and bow tie, undoing the top button of his shirt as he shrugged to ease the tension out of his shoulders before indicating they should both sit down. ‘How can I possibly do that when my own mother took great delight in relating to you the incident when I dived into the school pool and lost my swimming trunks?’ He made himself comfortable in the chair across from Grace’s.
She gave a soft chuckle. ‘That was rather funny.’
‘Not at the time,’ he drawled. ‘Perhaps if I had not attended a co-educational school!’
Cesar listened with pleasure as Grace gave another throaty chuckle. She had been tense and a little uncomfortable when she first joined them in the drawing-room for coffee, but his mother, one of the most warm and genuinely charming women Cesar had ever known, had soon put Grace at her ease.
It had been—despite his mother’s insistence in telling amusing stories of his childhood—one of the most relaxed and pleasant birthday evenings he had ever spent, with none of the underlying memories of Gabriela hovering just beneath the surface of their every conversation. And he knew he had Grace’s presence to thank for much of that.
C
esar looked at her over the rim of his brandy glass, pleased that she looked less tired and strained than she had earlier, despite having spent several hours cooking a magnificent meal for them all. ‘Thank you for helping to make this such a memorable evening,’ he murmured softly.
She gave him a startled glance. ‘The fact that you all so obviously enjoyed your meal is thanks enough.’
Cesar shook his head. ‘I was not referring to just the meal.’
Grace looked across at him uncertainly. It had been a strange and yet enjoyable evening, surprisingly so considering the tension between herself and Cesar earlier. ‘Your parents are utterly charming,’ she murmured noncommittally.
He gave a tight smile. ‘Surprisingly so, considering their son is not?’
Her cheeks felt warm. ‘I don’t recall ever saying that.’
‘You did not need to.’ Cesar continued to watch her intently over the rim of his brandy glass.
‘Well, groping my backside when I was talking with your parents wasn’t exactly charming, no.’ She attempted to lighten the conversation.
He arched one dark brow. ‘You know exactly why I did that.’
Grace snorted. ‘Your mother wasn’t really serious about my leaving your employment and moving to New York.’
‘You obviously do not know my mother very well!’ He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘The slightest encouragement on your part and you would have found yourself living in New York before the month was over!’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes.’ He smiled slightly at her surprise. ‘And would you have found my caressing your bottom more charming, if it had not happened in the presence of my parents?’
Grace’s heart skipped a beat. ‘No,’ she answered firmly even as she placed her brandy glass down on the table beside her before standing up and moving to the low glass coffee table. ‘I think I should just finish clearing away here and get to—’ She broke off, her breath caught in her throat, as Cesar sat forward and reached out to grasp her wrist. ‘Cesar?’
Those jet-black eyes were unreadable as he looked up to meet her gaze. ‘Earlier this evening you asked me why it is I have the security that I do.’
She gave a shake of her head. ‘I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘It was very rude of me.’
Cesar’s thumb moved in a light caress against the pulse leaping in her wrist. ‘It was a perfectly legitimate comment.’ He gave a heavy sigh as he seemed to be searching for words. ‘I—’
‘Please, Cesar, you really don’t owe me any explanations!’
Grace’s nerves felt completely jittery, from that light caress on her hand and Cesar’s light grasp of her fingers.
‘Yes, I believe that I do.’ His eyes glittered pure jet as he looked up at her. ‘Not many people are aware of this but—’ He broke off to draw in a deep ragged breath, lines of grief etched beside his eyes and mouth. ‘My sister, Gabriela—’
‘Please don’t, Cesar!’ Grace’s fingers tightened about his as she silenced him. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you in the way that I did earlier, and you certainly don’t owe me any explanations for the way you choose to live your life. Or to bring back painful memories by talking of your sister’s death.’ She gave a self-disgusted shake of her head.
His breath left him in a hiss. ‘Gabriela did not die, Grace. Or, at least, it has always been my hope, despite some of the alternatives, that she did not,’ he added in a pained voice.
‘But you said—’ Grace felt utterly bewildered by this conversation. She had thought—believed that Cesar had placed a wall about his emotions, that his parents’ marriage had eventually been destroyed, by the death of two-year-old Gabriela twenty-one years ago. ‘I don’t understand, Cesar?’
Those lines deepened beside his eyes and mouth. ‘My sister, Gabriela, was taken from us,’ he revealed gruffly.
‘Taken?’ Grace breathed softly.
Cesar nodded. ‘Whilst in a park very much like the one in which you sat this afternoon,’ he added in husky apology.
Grace stared down at him in utter shock. She had assumed, when Cesar had talked of the loss of his sister, that Gabriela Navarro had died. A terrible tragedy, and one that had eventually ripped Gabriela’s family apart.
But, if she understood Cesar correctly now—and Grace felt sure that she did—that wasn’t what had happened at all.
Gabriela Navarro hadn’t died.
She had been taken.
Abducted...
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘MY GOD, CESAR!’ Grace choked emotionally as she dropped down onto the carpet beside his chair to grasp his hand tightly in both of hers as she looked up at him. ‘I can’t believe—Gabriela was kidnapped...?’
Cesar’s expression softened slightly as he saw the tears of empathy shimmering in Grace’s blue-green eyes. ‘Taken,’ he insisted gruffly.
‘How? Where?’
‘We had gone to the park with our niñera— Yes,’ Cesar gave an acknowledging grimace as Grace gasped at he once again mentioned the park. ‘It was April, a time when the pollen would not bother Gabriela—’
‘She’s the one who’s allergic to flowers?’ she breathed softly.
He gave another acknowledging nod. ‘I have not been able to bear having flowers inside the house since she disappeared.’
And Grace had thought he was just being unreasonable that first day at his estate when he had asked for the flowers to be removed from the entrance hall, and again earlier today when she had accused him of once again being paranoid because she had chosen to go into the park opposite this apartment.
He sighed. ‘We played with Gabriela in the park for an hour or so chasing a ball, until she became tired and fell asleep in her pushchair, finally allowing me to fly the kite I had received as an Easter gift.’ Cesar’s gaze was unfocused as he obviously relived a day he would never forget. ‘The wind was too strong, the string broke, and my kite drifted off to become entangled in some bushes a short distance away. Our niñera was only distracted from Gabriela for one minute, perhaps two, when she came to help untangle the kite, but when she turned to where she had been sitting Gabriela’s pushchair was empty,’ he concluded bleakly. ‘We both searched for her, becoming more frantic by the moment, believing she must have woken up and wandered off somewhere but—she was gone. Disappeared as if from the face of the earth.’
Leaving Cesar to spend the rest of his life knowing it had been his enjoyment of flying his kite that had allowed the opportunity for Gabriela to be taken?
‘My parents were beside themselves with grief as we waited for the ransom to be demanded,’ he continued, his voice raw with emotion. ‘We all waited, hours, days, weeks. But there was nothing. Just an empty space where our Gabriela should have been,’ he recalled bleakly.
Grace’s throat moved as she swallowed before speaking, the tears falling unchecked down her cheeks now. ‘But—it was never reported in the newspapers...’ She had no doubts it would have been in the article she had read online about Cesar if that had been the case.
He gave a shake of his head. ‘My father was, and still is, a very powerful man in Argentina, and he believed it would be safer for Gabriela if her disappearance was not allowed to become a public media circus.’
‘But surely the police—’ She broke off as Cesar gave another shake of his head.
He sighed. ‘Again, rightly or wrongly, my father refused to involve them at first, believed that by doing so he would be putting Gabriela’s life at risk. And so we waited, each sleepless night and day more torturous than the last, for the phone call or letter which would tell us that Gabriela was still alive, and would be returned safely to us if the money was paid. It never came,’ he breathed harshly. ‘There was nothing but silence, the same silence which has existed for the past twenty-one years,’ he revealed with that same raw emotion.
Grace moistened her lips. ‘What do you think happened to her?’
/> His eyes glittered fiercely. ‘I have tried not to think too deeply about that, for fear I might go mad.’
Grace didn’t know what to say. What could she possibly say about the nightmare the Navarro family had lived with for the past twenty-one years? Their daughter taken from them, not dead, but as lost to them as if she were. As Grace knew only too well after the death of both her adoptive parents, painful as it was, there was at least closure with death; the Navarro family hadn’t had that, would never have that, because they had no idea whether Gabriela had died or was living her life somewhere else right now, in total ignorance of their very existence, or heartbreak.
‘By the time my father agreed to call in the police the trail was cold,’ Cesar continued flatly, his gaze still distant with memories. ‘Oh, they followed up every report they received of a golden-haired two-year-old-girl child, and we waited and prayed, but it was never Gabriela. And my mother died a little more inside with each raising of those hopes before they were so quickly followed by devastating disappointment when it was not her daughter.’
‘And the rift between her and your father grew wider,’ Grace guessed huskily.
Cesar focused on her with effort. ‘Yes. And I—’ He broke off to draw in a deep and shuddering breath. ‘You can have no idea of the torment of all these years, of looking at every blonde-haired dark-eyed girl and woman I met, and wondering if this could be Gabriela, grown up and beautiful, but with no knowledge or memory of her true family. How could she have, when she had been only two when she was taken from us?’
And this was the man Grace had believed to be not only paranoid, but cold and unemotional. Cesar wasn’t any of those things, he had just learnt to control and contain his emotions, for fear that if he once allowed them full rein he would be totally overwhelmed by them.
A Taste of the Forbidden Page 9