A Taste of the Forbidden

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Hello, Cesar.’ She stood up abruptly, her smile appearing nervous as she wiped her palms down denim-clad thighs.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ The darkness of his gaze remained fixed on her intently.

  ‘I—I hope your mother has recovered completely now?’ she prompted huskily.

  Cesar nodded abruptly. ‘She is still slightly fragile, but she is out of hospital, yes.’

  ‘I’m so glad!’ She gave another nervous smile.

  Cesar, having thought he had several more days before he returned to England and talked with Grace, was now at a complete loss to know what to say until he knew why Grace had chosen to come back to Buenos Aires, especially when she must have flown on a public airline, using money he knew she could ill afford.

  Cesar had put thoughts of Grace Blake, and that last day they had spent in Buenos Aires together, firmly to the back of his mind this past three days as he concentrated on his mother’s recovery and father’s obvious distress at believing he had almost lost Esther completely and for ever. Far easier, Cesar had decided, to lock Grace Blake away in a separate compartment of his emotions, one he could open and deal with once he returned to England.

  And instead that closed compartment had now been ripped open by Grace’s return to Buenos Aires. And he had no idea why she was here, did not dare to hope—

  ‘I asked why you are here, Grace,’ he repeated gruffly.

  Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed. ‘I—er—I—’

  ‘My sister thought I might enjoy a little holiday in Buenos Aires!’ an unfamiliar voice cut in challengingly.

  Cesar’s gaze moved sharply to the young woman who had been standing in the shadowed alcove in front of one of the windows to his apartment, but now stepped out into the room. A tall and blonde-haired young woman, who had just proclaimed herself as being Grace’s younger sister. ‘Beth, is it not?’ he said slowly.

  ‘That’s right.’ She strode confidently across the room, her hand extended in greeting. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Navarro.’

  Cesar made no move to take that hand as he instead stared down intently at the young woman who was only slighter shorter than he; not unexpectedly, there was absolutely no similarity between the two adopted sisters, either in height or colouring.

  And yet Cesar felt a strange sense of familiarity...

  ‘Mr Navarro?’ Beth Blake quirked a questioning brow as he continued to ignore her hand.

  ‘Who are you?’ he rasped harshly.

  Her hand dropped back to her side as she looked up at him quizzically. ‘I just told you, I’m Grace’s sister, Beth.’

  Cesar turned to look at Grace. ‘What exactly is going on, Grace?’ he demanded coldly.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I—’

  ‘Is this your idea of joke?’ Cesar continued as if she hadn’t spoken, his eyes glittering darkly, hands clenched into fists at his side.

  Not quite the reaction Grace had been hoping for!

  Although it was obvious—and slightly heartening—to realise that Cesar could see the same similarities she could, between Beth and both his mother and his sister, Gabriela, in colouring at least. Just as obvious as it was that he was furiously angry with Grace for once again opening a wound he had spent years trying to heal. That he had definitely been starting to overcome that last carefree day Grace had spent with him in Buenos Aires...

  Grace gave another swipe of her tongue across her lips. ‘I— Before I left on Sunday I went to your bedroom to collect—something I had left there—’ her cheeks blazed with colour ‘—and I saw the photograph of Gabriela and you on the dressing table—’

  ‘His bedroom?’ Beth was the one to repeat sharply. ‘Grace, what were you doing in Cesar Navarro’s bedro—?’

  ‘Never mind that now,’ Grace dismissed quickly, knowing that the sudden redness in her cheeks had to be evidence enough of why she had been in Cesar’s bedroom four days ago. ‘I saw the photograph, Cesar,’ she continued firmly, ‘and—well, surely you can see for yourself.’ She waved a hand in Beth’s general direction. ‘The similarity is—’

  ‘Purely cosmetic,’ he cut in harshly, decisively. ‘My sister is long gone, Grace, and this—’ he also gave a wave of his hand in Beth’s direction ‘—this is cruel and—’

  ‘I should stop right there if I were you, buddy!’ Beth poked a warning finger into his chest as she glared at him. ‘My sister doesn’t have a cruel bone in her body. She genuinely believes that I could somehow be related to you. Personally, having now met you, I’m rather grateful that I’m so obviously not,’ she added disgustedly. ‘But I assure you, Mr Navarro,’ she continued as he narrowed his glittering gaze on her, ‘that Grace is guilty of nothing more than a mistaken belief I might somehow be your long-lost little sister, Gabriela—’

  ‘Gabriela?’

  They all three turned to look at the tall blonde-haired woman standing in the doorway, Grace with dismay, Cesar with barely contained fury, and Beth with—

  Beth was staring at Esther Navarro as if she had seen a ghost.

  Or a vision of herself as she might appear in thirty years’ time?

  Grace had had no idea that Esther would be at Cesar’s apartment today, but, seeing Esther and Beth together for the first time, it was impossible not to note the similarities between the two women: the same unusual blonde hair—Esther’s currently arranged in a style to best hide the purple bruising at her temple—the wide and creamy brow, the curve of their cheeks and determined chin, the fullness of their lips.

  ‘Who are you?’ Beth breathed shallowly.

  Esther Navarro reached out for the support of the doorframe as she stumbled slightly, her eyes huge wells of blue in the paleness of her face as she continued to stare at Beth as if at an apparition. ‘I believe that was to be my own next question...’ she murmured faintly.

  ‘You should not be out of bed, Mama.’ Cesar strode forcefully across the room to his mother’s side. ‘Grace was just introducing her sister to me—’

  ‘Grace’s sister?’ Esther turned to him with bewildered eyes. ‘But surely, Cesar, you must see—’

  ‘I see only a young woman with a passing resemblance to—to someone we once knew,’ Cesar rasped with another coldly accusing glance at Grace. ‘Let me help you back to your bedroom, Mama, and then I will come back and deal with this situation.’

  Esther waved away the supportive arm he might have placed about her waist as she stepped further into the room. ‘But...’

  ‘Grace and her sister will be leaving as soon as—’

  ‘Grace and her sister won’t be going anywhere until they’re good and ready, buddy,’ Beth interrupted firmly. ‘And I resent being referred to as a “situation”.’

  ‘You will cease calling me ‘buddy’ in that derogatory tone.’

  ‘I’ll call you anything I damn well please—buddy!’ Beth glared back at Cesar with blazing blue eyes. ‘Just what do you think gives you the right to talk about Grace and I as if we’re something nasty that you’ve accidentally found on the bottom of one of your handmade leather shoes?’

  Cesar straightened to his full height of well over six feet before striding across the room until he stood only inches away from Beth, his expression one of haughty arrogance as he looked down the length of his nose at her. ‘You are in my home, and not as an invited guest, and as such I believe I am perfectly within my rights to talk to you in any way I choose.’

  ‘That’s what you think, buddy—’

  ‘That is what I know!’ Cesar cut in with chilling softness at Beth’s deliberate use of that name he found so offensive. ‘Now if you will kindly remove yourself—’

  ‘I told you, we’re not going anywhere until I get to the bottom of this mystery.’ Beth was glaring up at him until their noses almost touched.

  It was too much for Grace.

  Far, far too much.

  She began to laugh, inappropriate and slightly hysterical humour that ca
used both Cesar and Beth to turn and look at her, Beth irritably, Cesar angrily. ‘I’m sorry,’ Grace finally managed to choke out. ‘It’s just— If the two of you could only see— You look so— Esther...?’ She turned to the older woman for assistance.

  Esther drew in a deep and steadying breath, her smile one of tremulous wonder. ‘I believe, as does Grace—’ she briefly turned that tearful smile on Grace before turning back to look at Cesar and Beth with glowing eyes ‘—that—’

  ‘Esther, que—’

  ‘Carlos!’ Esther turned to hold out her hand to her husband as he stood in the doorway behind her. ‘Come, Carlos,’ she encouraged emotionally, taking his hand in hers when he moved to her side, before raising that hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles. ‘I believe I may have just witnessed a miracle, my love. The first argument between our son and our daughter,’ she explained as that ‘son and daughter’ continued to look at her with equally stubbornly angry faces.

  Stubbornly angry faces that could surely be none other than those of Cesar Navarro and his young sister, Gabriela?

  CHAPTER TWELEVE

  ‘WHY IS IT THAT I ALWAYS find you in the kitchen?’

  Grace turned sharply at the sound of Cesar’s voice behind her, the muted light on over the stove to break the darkness of the kitchen. The same kitchen where only days ago she had prepared Cesar’s birthday dinner. So much had happened since that night, it seemed a lifetime ago.

  She eyed him warily. ‘Probably because it’s the place I’m most comfortable.’

  ‘Please do not get up.’ Cesar nodded as she would have risen from sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. ‘I—could not sleep, either.’

  ‘It’s been an unusual evening.’ Grace grimaced at her understatement.

  Unusual didn’t even begin to describe the strangeness of the past few hours. A time of conversations begun but never finished. Of questions that seemed to have no answers. Of Esther and Carlos Navarro sitting together on one of the sofas holding hands as they stared intently at Beth, as if they were both afraid to believe she might possibly be their long-lost daughter—which no doubt they were, and perhaps quite rightly so.

  Cesar had left the room to make some telephone calls, and managed to arrange for DNA tests to be carried out the following day, and in the meantime Esther and Carlos had insisted that Grace and Beth couldn’t possibly stay at a hotel, but must both come here, to Cesar’s apartment, at least until after they had received the results of the blood tests.

  Cesar had spent the rest of the evening looking at Grace in brooding silence, as if he somehow thought he might find the answers to his own questions in her face.

  Answers Grace hadn’t had then, and certainly didn’t have now, several hours later. She genuinely didn’t know if Beth was the missing Gabriela Navarro—the longer the evening went on, the more she had wondered if she hadn’t just imagined all of those coincidences. If she hadn’t managed to convince herself that it was possible Beth could be Gabriela, because she had wanted to take away Cesar’s pain and that of his parents. Cesar had been right earlier: the coincidences, and Beth’s likeness to Gabriela, were purely cosmetic—

  ‘Carla Lawrence, Beth’s mother, was Argentinian by birth.’

  She blinked at Cesar. ‘Sorry?’

  Cesar stepped further into the light, revealing that he wore a white tee shirt and soft cotton jogging trousers that fitted low down on his hips; the clothes he wore to sleep in? Probably, Grace realized. After all, he hadn’t expected to find anyone else in the kitchen.

  He grimaced. ‘When I left to call the doctor earlier I also instructed Raphael to begin an investigation into Beth’s real parents. Obviously there is a time difference between our two countries, which is slowing things down slightly, but so far he has found out that Carla Lawrence was of Argentinian extraction.’

  Grace swallowed hard before speaking. ‘Is that a good or bad thing, do you think?’

  ‘What I think is that it is a coincidence that requires further investigation,’ Cesar answered softly.

  Another coincidence, he could have said, but didn’t. Because they both knew that at this point in time, that was all any of these things were: coincidences...

  ‘Cesar, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.’ Tears blurred Grace’s vision as she looked across the breakfast bar at him. ‘I just—I saw that photograph of Gabriela in your bedroom, and the likeness to Beth was so startling—’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘I— Beth didn’t want to come here. She honestly thinks I’ve gone crazy. I should have at least called you first and—’

  ‘And risked being rejected out of hand,’ he finished. ‘You did the right thing, Grace. You did the only thing that someone of your nature could have done.’

  ‘My nature?’ Grace stiffened warily.

  ‘You have a kindness, a caring for other people’s happiness which has nothing to do with your own.’ He nodded. ‘Which, in this case, has manifested itself into an empathy of understanding for the pain suffered by both myself and my parents in regard to Gabriela’s disappearance.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Not what you expected me to say, hmm?’

  ‘Not quite.’ She grimaced, having been prepared to face Cesar’s anger, the same anger he had expressed earlier, the next time they found themselves alone together.

  ‘I was upset earlier.’ Cesar seemed to guess her thoughts. ‘Said things, made accusations, I should not have made. Beth was right—I should not have spoken to you in the way that I did. Despite my initial response, and even if it should be that Beth is not my sister after all, I will always feel...grateful to you for at least bringing this likeness to our attention,’ he added huskily. ‘For once again giving my mother hope.’

  Gratitude. No matter what happened, Grace would always have Cesar’s gratitude. When she wanted so much more from him. When she felt so much more for him. When just to be with him again made her heart ache. ‘That’s good.’ She attempted a brief smile, hoping that she looked more convincing than she felt. ‘How long do you think it will take Raphael to complete his investigation?’

  Cesar quirked dark brows. ‘You are in a hurry to leave Argentina?’

  She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘I probably shouldn’t have come back here in the first place. Or brought Beth with me. She argued, told me the whole idea was ridiculous but— I don’t know what I was thinking—’

  ‘As I said, you were thinking of others, not yourself,’ Cesar cut in firmly. ‘Although, I agree, Beth is not at all appreciative of that sentiment at the moment!’ he added dryly.

  Grace gave a husky laugh. ‘Watching the two of you standing virtually nose to nose earlier tonight was pretty amazing.’

  He nodded. ‘Not at all how I had envisaged—if, as my mother said, by some miracle it should turn out that Beth is Gabriela, after all!—my first meeting with my little sister in twenty-one years!’

  Grace gave another choked laugh. ‘It was explosive, to say the least. Our parents brought us up to stand up for ourselves, as well as others, no matter what the situation,’ she added apologetically.

  ‘And Beth did not at all appreciate the way in which I had spoken to her sister.’

  ‘No, she’s certainly keeping a wary eye on you, buster!’ Beth drawled as she strolled into the kitchen, blonde hair secured in a ponytail, her face cleansed of make-up and looking vulnerably young, her night attire almost a mirror image of Cesar’s.

  Cesar quirked a dark brow. ‘Is “buster” an improvement on “buddy”, or worse?’

  ‘Depends on whether or not you’re upsetting my big sister,’ she came back pertly.

  Cesar frowned. ‘If you should indeed be Gabriela, this could all become rather complicated; what would my relationship then be to Grace?’

  Grace stiffened. ‘I—’

  ‘Whatever she decides it’s going to be,’ Beth spoke firmly. ‘Anyone else for coffee?’ she offered as she poured the water into the percolator and added coffee.

&nb
sp; Grace was still a little thrown by Cesar’s question, let alone Beth’s answer, and could only nod distractedly at the same time as Cesar murmured his own affirmation as he continued to watch Beth through narrowed lids as she prepared the coffee.

  What would Grace’s relationship to Cesar be if it transpired that her adopted sister was his missing sister, Gabriela?

  It was too late at night, and emotions were running too high, the question too complicated, for Grace to be able to think straight on that particular subject!

  ‘Here we— Damn it!’ Beth swore even as one of the mugs of coffee slipped from her fingers.

  ‘Move, Brela!’ Cesar reacted quickly enough to push Beth out of the way as the mug hit the marble floor and shattered into pieces, at the same time as scalding-hot coffee sprayed everywhere. ‘Both of you stay exactly where you are!’ he instructed the women harshly even as he crouched down to begin picking up the pieces of broken china prior to mopping up the spilt coffee.

  ‘Beth?’

  Cesar straightened as he heard the concern in Grace’s voice. ‘Did the coffee burn you?’ He frowned darkly at the younger of the two Blake sisters.

  Beth gave a slow shake of her head, her cheeks having gone very pale as she stared at him. ‘What did you just call me?’

  He gave a puzzled shake of his head. ‘I do not recall—’

  ‘Brela,’ Grace put in softly, her concerned gaze still fixed on Beth. ‘He called you Brela.’

  ‘I did not realise... It was the name by which I always called Gabriela,’ Cesar supplied slowly.

  Beth swallowed. ‘I don’t— For just a moment I thought it sounded— No, it couldn’t have been,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘No one remembers things from when they were two years old.’

  ‘I do,’ Cesar assured her abruptly.

  Beth raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

  ‘Beth!’ Grace admonished exasperatedly.

  ‘Well, honestly!’ Beth muttered deprecatingly before turning back to Cesar. ‘The man is a damned machine—If you called your sister, Brela, what did she call you?’ She eyed him warily.