The Brazilian Millionaire's Love-Child

by Anne Mather

  Now, however, Emma’s attention was focussed on him, and she came towards him without any apparent reluctance on her part. ‘Who’re you?’ she asked, her eyes wide and inquisitive, and Alejandro felt his stomach twist with sudden apprehension.

  ‘My name is Alejandro,’ he said. He had risen to his feet again at her entrance, but now he lowered himself to the child’s level with an effort. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Emma,’ she said. Then she pointed to his face. ‘What’s that? Did you fall over?’

  Alejandro’s lips twitched. ‘Something like that,’ he agreed ruefully.

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  ‘Emma!’

  Both Isobel and her aunt spoke in unison, but Alejandro made a gesture warning the two women not to interfere.

  ‘No, cara,’ he said gently, speaking to the child. ‘It does not hurt.’ He paused. ‘It happened a long time ago.’

  Emma frowned, still staring at him, and then she reached out a hand towards his cheek.

  ‘Emma!’

  This time Isobel had to intervene, but before she could grab the little girl’s arm Alejandro had bent his head obligingly towards her.

  ‘’S hard!’ Emma exclaimed in surprise, her baby-soft fingers stroking along the ridge of his scar. ‘Feel, Mummy. ’S re’lly hard.’

  Alejandro looked up at Isobel’s pale face before getting heavily to his feet.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said, his attention all on her now. ‘I did not come here to upset you.’

  Isobel swallowed with difficulty. And then, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say at that moment, she whispered, ‘I told you Emma wasn’t easily alarmed.’

  ‘And you were right,’ Alejandro murmured softly. ‘Perhaps one day you might even tell her who I am.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘YOU’RE not leaving!’

  There was a trace of panic in Isobel’s voice now, and although Emma was tugging at her skirt, wanting her attention, for the first time in her life Isobel didn’t put her daughter’s needs first.

  Alejandro looked down at the little girl. ‘Perhaps not yet,’ he conceded gently, allowing Emma to grab his hand.

  ‘Up,’ she said imperiously, her meaning obvious, and with a feeling of incredulity he lifted the little girl into his arms.

  ‘Mummy’s talking, Em,’ admonished Isobel, feeling as if the situation was slipping away from her.

  ‘I talk too,’ retorted Emma, regarding Alejandro’s face with renewed interest. Her brows drew together consideringly. ‘D’you fall off your pony?’

  ‘I don’t think Mr Cabral wants to talk about that now, Emma,’ declared Sam Armstrong, giving their guest a rueful look. He held out his arms. ‘Come along, sweetheart. I think we need to give Mummy a chance to talk.’

  Emma clung to Alejandro’s jacket. ‘Don’ wanna go,’ she pouted, but Olivia stepped forward and took control.

  ‘It’s lunchtime,’ she said firmly, loosening the little girl’s fingers with a word of apology to Alejandro. Then, lifting her out of his arms, she continued, ‘Do join us for lunch, Alejandro. I can’t promise you anything special, but you’re very welcome to stay.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Alejandro inclined his head, though whether that was just politeness or acceptance Isobel couldn’t be sure. But she was grateful when the door closed behind them. Even if being alone with him was still a daunting prospect.

  ‘Um, why don’t you sit down again?’ she suggested, gesturing to the chair behind him. She was sure his leg must be aching by now.

  ‘I am not an invalid, cara,’ he said flatly, making no move to do as she’d asked. He paused, regarding her intently. ‘Are you well?’

  ‘I’ve had a cold, that’s all.’ Isobel didn’t want to talk about herself. Then, because her legs were decidedly unsteady, she sank into the armchair her uncle had been occupying and looked up at him. ‘When did you get here?’

  ‘Here?’ Alejandro pointed to where she was standing. ‘Or do you mean England?’

  Isobel shrugged. ‘Both, I guess.’ She was disturbed to find there were tears pricking at the backs of her eyes and she blinked rapidly. ‘You should have let me know you were coming.’

  ‘Why?’ Alejandro shifted his weight onto his uninjured leg. ‘So you could have arranged not to be here?’

  ‘No!’ Isobel caught her breath. ‘I wanted to see you.’ She hesitated. ‘If only to—to tell you why I came back to England.’

  ‘Ah.’ Alejandro’s expression was sardonic. ‘I think Anita told me that.’

  ‘Did she? I doubt it.’ Isobel sounded bitter. ‘She terminated the interview, you know. Not me.’

  ‘Did she tell you why?’

  Isobel frowned. ‘Well, she said she’d never have agreed to it if it hadn’t been for you.’ She averted her eyes. ‘But I already knew that, didn’t I?’

  ‘And that was all?’

  ‘No.’ Isobel took a deep breath. ‘She told me she didn’t like the idea of having a “snake in the grass” in her house. Those were her words, not mine. Apparently the fact that you and I had known one another in London didn’t sit well with her. She accused me of only accepting the assignment to see you again.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Alejandro was thoughtful. ‘So she did not mention the fact that she knew I had visited your rooms the night before? That one of her minions had been positioned outside the window while we were otherwise engaged?’

  ‘No!’ Isobel was horrified. ‘You mean she—?’

  ‘Knew we had been together? Well, maybe not all the details, but she knew enough.’

  ‘My God!’

  ‘Sim—Meu Deus!’

  Isobel shook her head. ‘But why should it matter to her? Unless she—’

  ‘Do not go there,’ Alejandro advised heavily, giving in to his leg’s weakness and sinking down onto the edge of the chair opposite. ‘Anita has never been anything more to me than my mother-in-law. If she is jealous, it is because she wants to guard her daughter’s reputation. She cannot bear the thought that I might find happiness with someone else.’

  Isobel’s coat fell to the floor at either side of her and she smoothed suddenly damp palms over her knees. ‘With me?’ she whispered, and it was barely audible.

  ‘Who else?’ he responded quietly. ‘Until we met again, she knew I had had no intention of getting involved with anyone else.’

  Isobel shook her head. ‘Does she know about Emma?’

  ‘She does now.’

  ‘You told her?’

  ‘Of course.’ He was dismissive. ‘She had already put it all together herself.’

  Isobel blew out a breath. ‘No wonder she wanted me to leave.’

  Alejandro pulled a wry face. ‘No wonder,’ he echoed. ‘Of course, if you had wanted to stay, you could have made other arrangements.’

  Isobel gasped. ‘What other arrangements?’

  ‘You could have told me,’ he said heavily. ‘Or did I figure so low on your list of possibilities that it did not even occur to you to do so?’

  Isobel sprang to her feet. ‘That’s ridiculous, and you know it.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘You should,’ she said, the treacherous prick of tears burning her eyes again. ‘How was I supposed to speak to you? Should I have asked Anita for your phone number? I’m sure she would have given it to me—not!’

  Alejandro looked up at her, his tawny eyes dark and assessing. ‘It did not occur to you to hire a car and driver and come to the estancia?’

  ‘I couldn’t do that!’ Isobel stared at him in amazement. ‘What would I have done if I’d turned up at your door and you’d turned me away too?’

  Alejandro’s jaw hardened, and, placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he pushed himself determinedly to his feet. ‘I would not have turned you away,’ he said harshly. ‘How can you suggest such a thing? You are the mother of my daughter; the mother of the only child I am ever likely to have.’

  Isobel blinked. ‘What do yo
u mean?’

  ‘What do you think I mean?’ Alejandro shifted impatiently. ‘The accident did not only disfigure me externally, but internally too.’

  ‘Oh, Alejandro!’ Isobel thought she was beginning to understand. ‘So that was why you were so keen to rekindle our relationship?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he demanded now, as she had only moments before.

  ‘I mean, it’s not me you really care about, is it?’ she choked, her tears uncontrollable now. ‘You want Emma; you want your daughter. And you’re prepared to go to any lengths to get her.’

  Alejandro stepped back, raking long fingers through his hair as he stared at her in disbelief. ‘You really believe that?’ he demanded, aghast.

  Isobel didn’t know what she believed. She’d thrown the accusation at him in the heat of the moment, but in her heart of hearts she prayed it wasn’t true.

  ‘Well it—it fits the facts, doesn’t it?’ she stammered, wiping the heels of her hands across her wet cheeks. ‘You—you knew all about Emma before I came to Brazil. You accused me of keeping her existence from you.’

  ‘Which you did,’ pointed out Alejandro levelly. ‘But, on reflection, I do not think I can entirely blame you for that.’

  ‘Oh, thanks!’

  She sniffed, and Alejandro said harshly, ‘Do not be facetious. There is much more than our daughter’s existence between us and you know it.’

  ‘Do I?’ Isobel scrubbed the back of her hand under her nose, wishing she had more control.

  ‘You should,’ said Alejandro roughly. ‘Would you like me to prove it? Yet I do not think your aunt and uncle would approve if I threw you down onto their hearth-rug and made mad, passionate love to you, do you?’

  ‘You’re making fun of me.’

  ‘No, I am not.’

  Isobel shook her head, turning away, unable to sustain this unequal contest of wills. ‘Oh, I know you can make me do what you want,’ she mumbled unsteadily. ‘I know you know you’ve only got to kiss me and I’m like putty in your hands.’

  ‘Do I know that?’ Alejandro’s voice had changed, deepened, and suddenly his hands were warm upon her shoulders. He drew her back against his muscled frame. ‘You have never told me, cara. Exactly what do I mean to you?’

  Isobel moved her head helplessly from side to side. ‘You know,’ she insisted. ‘You’ve always known.’

  ‘No,’ he said hoarsely, close to her ear. ‘No, I have not. Tell me, cara. Why are you crying—because you care about me, or because you are afraid I might try to take Emma from you?’

  Isobel glanced quickly over her shoulder. ‘Would you do that?’ she asked anxiously, and Alejandro wearily shook his head.

  ‘If you have to ask me that, then you do not know me at all,’ he told her flatly, releasing her. He stepped back. ‘Relax, cara. Emma is safe. I would not to do anything that might jeopardise her—or your—future.’

  He turned, bending to lift a dark overcoat that she now saw was draped over the back of his chair. ‘Please—tell your aunt I cannot accept her so kind inv—’

  ‘Don’t go!’

  Isobel moved now, catching his arm before he could push it into the sleeve of his overcoat, snatching the overcoat from him and tossing it back onto the chair.

  ‘Please,’ she said when he remained still, just staring at her. ‘I’m sorry. I know you would never hurt me.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I don’t know why I asked you that.’ She sniffed again. ‘Just—just jealous, I guess.’

  ‘Jealous?’ His dark brows descended.

  ‘Yes.’ She pressed her lips together for a moment and then went on, ‘Of Emma. Because you love her. Because you care about her in a way that you’ve never cared about me.’

  Alejandro swore then. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? I mean—’ She chose her words with care. ‘Even after you got out of hospital you didn’t come back to England.’ She paused, and then added painfully, ‘You married Miranda, remember?’

  ‘As if I could forget,’ murmured Alejandro with feeling. ‘Meu Deus, Isobella, do you really think I did not want to see you again?’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘Need you ask?’ Alejandro scowled. ‘When I got out of hospital I thought no woman in her right mind would want to spend the rest of her life with me.’

  ‘But that’s crazy!’

  ‘Is it? Well, maybe it seems so now, but at the time I was not thinking so clearly.’ He sighed. ‘Besides, although we had been intimate, we hardly knew one another. How could I expect you to take on this burden? Particularly when we had parted on such unfriendly terms.’

  ‘You mean the phone call from your father?’

  ‘Yes. That phone call.’ Alejandro drew a deep breath. ‘I know I told you it was about the company, but it was actually about Miranda. My late wife was an addict, Isobella. She spent her life going in and out of clinics trying to kick her habit. But she never did.’

  Isobel was silent for a moment. Then she said softly, ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘No. How could you? Anita did everything she could to keep it quiet. Even my own family would not accept that a cure was hopeless.’

  ‘And Anita was involved, even then?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Alejandro nodded. ‘Our families had been friends since Miranda and I were children.’ His lips twisted. ‘It was Anita who persuaded my father to phone me that evening and beg me to come home. She was of the opinion that I might be able to help Miranda see sense when everyone else had failed.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘No.’ Alejandro’s tone was flat. He paused. ‘And then, after the accident…’ He lifted his shoulders in a weary gesture. ‘I had other things to worry about.’

  ‘But why did you marry her?’

  ‘Ah…’ Alejandro grimaced. ‘A question I have asked myself more times than I can remember. Because my father had had another heart attack after my accident; because it was expected. Because my father wanted grandchildren and I hadn’t given him any.’

  ‘But didn’t you just say…?’

  ‘That I could not father any more children? That is correct.’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Something I refrained from broadcasting until after the wedding.’

  Isobel frowned. ‘Did you love Miranda?’

  ‘I was fond of her,’ Alejandro conceded honestly. ‘As I say, we had known one another since our schooldays.’ He paused. ‘She desperately wanted to make her mother proud of her, and it certainly stopped people from pitying me because of my scars.’

  ‘Oh, Alejandro…’

  Alejandro’s senses swam at the sensuous sound of his name on her tongue. His hand sought her chin, tilted her face up to his, and he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip with undisguised impatience.

  But there were still things to be said between them.

  ‘Even so, I wonder how you would have felt if I had turned up on your doorstep looking like the gargoyle I resembled when I came out of the hospital?’ he ventured huskily. ‘Whatever you say now, you might have turned me away.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘No?’ Alejandro regarded her intently. ‘Ah, yes, you were carrying my baby. That might have made a difference.’

  ‘Alejandro, my being pregnant wouldn’t have made a scrap of difference.’ Isobel sighed frustratedly. ‘It’s not just the way you look that I, well, that I care about. It’s you!’

  ‘So, you really thought we had something special?’

  ‘Don’t you?’ A tremor ran through her, and he was suddenly struck by the fact that she’d lost weight in these weeks that they’d been apart. ‘I thought so then and I thought so that night at the villa,’ she continued urgently. ‘But you didn’t say anything, and when Anita asked me to leave…’

  ‘Indeed.’ Alejandro’s thumb invaded her lips, and her tongue met it eagerly. ‘We have wasted so much time, cara.’ His eyes darkened. ‘And now I hear there is another man in your life.’


  ‘No.’ Isobel misunderstood. ‘David died!’ she exclaimed, but Alejandro only shook his head.

  ‘Not the man who was your husband,’ he said tersely. ‘He was a fool. And, although I am sorry to hear he died, he is of no interest to me.’ His free hand cupped her neck. ‘What was the name of the man your aunt spoke of—Tony, sim? Should I be jealous?’

  ‘I think you know the answer to that,’ said Isobel a little breathlessly. When he was touching her, it was hard to think of anything else. ‘But you’ve taken so long to make up your mind to come here,’ she added, lifting a trembling hand and stroking dark, silky hair from his forehead. ‘Are you sure there isn’t anything you should tell me?’

  Alejandro laughed. Then, capturing her hand, he brought it passionately to his mouth. ‘Believe me, querida,’ he said, ‘if I had really believed you wanted to see me again, a string of Carlos’s horses would not have kept me away.’

  His mouth gently brushed hers, but when she would have prolonged the kiss he laid a finger across her lips. ‘Have some pity,’ he said a little thickly. ‘You know I want you. Very badly, acontece que. As it happens. But this is not my home. It is yours.’

  ‘And Emma’s,’ she reminded him softly, and Alejandro pulled her urgently into his arms.

  ‘Our daughter,’ he said with feeling. ‘Do you think she will forgive me? I mean, of course, for intruding into her life?’

  ‘Oh, I think she can cope,’ murmured Isobel lightly. ‘I’m so glad you changed your mind about meeting her.’

  ‘I had no choice,’ he said simply. ‘I realised I could not live without her mother.’ He cradled her face in his hands. ‘I love you, querida. Perhaps that will redeem me in her eyes.’

  EPILOGUE

  SIX months later, Isobel walked out onto the balcony at the estancia, feeling the sun warm upon her hot skin.

  The view from the balcony always enchanted her—distant mountains and sunlit highlands, plains and a river valley, and so much space.

  Tipping her head back, she ran a hand from her bare throat down over the tender peaks of her breasts to the slight mound beneath her ribcage. Despite feeling a little nauseous in the mornings, she had never been healthier. Happiness did that to a person, she thought smugly. And she was happier now than she had ever been in her life.