‘It’s lovely to see you again, Sofia. Are you well?’ she asked, stepping back to Pascual’s side, her previously apprehensive expression transformed by a smile.
‘Sí, señorita … I am very well … estupendo now that you are all here!’
‘Sofia?’Addressing his housekeeper and speaking in their native Spanish, Pascual told her they would all like to go to their rooms and freshen up a little before dinner. He was sure that Adán especially would like to see the room that would be his. He also asked her to instruct his chauffeur to bring in their luggage and ask Carlo—his groundsman and gardener—if he would kindly transport it upstairs. That done, Pascual turned to Briana, one hand still firmly holding onto his son’s. ‘I have told Sofia that we would like to go up to our rooms. Shall we?’
Having inspected his own very large bedroom—Briana was sure the ground floor of her whole house would have fitted into the square footage it commanded!—Adán was now busy running from the huge en-suite marble bathroom in his father and Briana’s room back into the bedroom, and then through the opened patio doors onto the generous-sized balcony, examining everything just as though he had been let loose in Hamleys toy store in Regent Street.
‘Slow down!’ she called out to him as he exited the balcony and ran back again into the bathroom. ‘You’ll wear yourself out!’
‘He is happy … no?’
Suddenly Pascual was in front of her, his dark gaze travelling at leisure down the front of her scoop-necked white T-shirt and pastel skirt. An unexpectedly warm smile touched his lips as Briana tried desperately not to look at the huge canopied empress bed to the side of her. Heat prickled all the way down her spine as she studied him.
‘You promised him an adventure and he’s certainly got it! He’ll sleep like a top tonight after all the excitement.’
Self-consciously she folded her arms across her chest. Reaching out, Pascual tugged them free. His hand inadvertently glanced against her breast and a shocked breath escaped her.
Gravel-voiced, he said, ‘Stop hiding yourself … I want to look at you.’
‘I’m not hiding! You—you make me nervous sometimes. That’s all.’
As if her words surprised him, he dropped his hands to his hips, and another easy smile broke free from his sensual lips.
‘Well, I do not mean to make you nervous. Not today, anyway. You are a very beautiful woman, Briana, and I intend to appreciate that fact. You cannot tell me that no other man has called you beautiful since we parted?’
Where was this leading? Was he jealous? For a moment the thought made her heart leap. To be jealous of compliments paid by other men suggested he still cared … even a little. If he had feelings towards her other than just anger and blame, then that had to bode well for the future, didn’t it?
‘I haven’t been interested in other men since—’
‘Since you left me?’
The dark eyes that resembled the most stunning jet in the world briefly reflected their disappointment and pain, and Briana came crashing back down to earth again.
‘I hope that’s true … that you haven’t seen any other men since me,’ Pascual continued somberly. ‘I do not like to think of you with someone else … someone who has spent time with you and my son when I could not.’
‘Well, you don’t have to worry. I told you … I’ve been too busy raising Adán and trying to run a business to have time to even think about dating!’
Just as she was about to quiz him on whether he had dated other people since they parted—yet perversely not really wanting to hear about that at all—their son diverted her.
‘Mummy, can I see the garden?’ Running back into the bedroom from the balcony, Adán glanced hopefully from Briana to his father.
‘Yes, of course you can see the garden! We have more than one, you know? In fact we call it a park, and it has many things to see in it—like fountains, marble statues, and a very large lake!’ Catching hold of the little boy’s hand with a grin that was more than a match for the dazzling Argentinian sunshine, Pascual looked as pleased and happy as his son at the prospect of showing him round his home. The sight of them together squeezed Briana’s heart. ‘Come with me and I will give you the guided tour. Then you can come back and tell Mummy what you think.’
‘Can I, Mummy?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. Just stay with Daddy and don’t go getting yourself lost!’ She faltered on the word ‘Daddy’ just the tiniest bit, but told herself she would soon get used to using it. One astonishing fact was becoming more and more obvious … Adán was having no trouble using it at all!
‘He will never leave my sight … I promise.’
Once again Pascual confounded Briana with a smile that was laden with warmth, and once again she sensed all her defences dissolve beneath its devastating impact.
‘Why don’t you take a shower or a bath while you have the chance? It might help you relax after all the travelling. Carlo will leave our luggage by the door.’
‘Thanks … maybe I’ll do that.’
‘Bien! We will see you later!’
He had instructed Sofia to make ready the smaller, more intimate dining room in the house, rather than the grand one used for entertaining. And now, as they sat round the large ebony table that had been beautifully and lovingly laid with the best silver cutlery and colourful patterned native crockery, Pascual surveyed his small family with pride and a growing possessiveness he could not deny. His chef had prepared the most appetising meal in honour of his son and wife-to-be, and they were lingering at the table long after they’d finished dessert. He poured Briana another glass of Malbec—a popular wine often drunk in the region—his avid glance surveying her for probably the hundredth time, in a demure white gypsy dress that showed off her pretty shoulders to perfection.
‘I wanted to discuss something,’ she said, fingering the delicate stem of her wine glass but not raising it to her lips.
‘Of course.’
Feeling more relaxed than he had in ages, Pascual settled comfortably back into his chair.
‘When we return here for good—’ she briefly pulled her gaze from his to let it momentarily rest on their son ‘—we’ll need to find a school for Adán. He’s in kindergarten back home, but in a few months’ time he’ll be five. Is there anywhere nearby that might be suitable?’
‘I will do some research. Sabrina de La Cruz—Diego and Marisa’s daughter—goes to a small private school not far away, and she is extremely happy there so they tell me. I will ask them for some more information.’
‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’
‘Of course I will not just take their word for it. In the next few days we will arrange a visit there and go and see the place for ourselves. I will also find out if there is a kindergarten at the school for Adán. It might be nice for him to continue going if he has become used to it, and he will make some new friends too. Being with the other children will also help him to learn Spanish.’
‘Will there be any English-speaking teachers?’
‘Of course. Argentina is home to many different cultures, as you know, and we have many English-speaking inhabitants … including teachers.’
Noisily laying down his dessert spoon beside the second bowl of chocolate ice cream he’d eagerly asked for but clearly could not finish, Adán yawned and rubbed at his eyes.
‘I think it’s past your bedtime, my angel.’ Fondly, Briana squeezed the small chubby hand on the table next to her. ‘It’s been a long day for you, hasn’t it?’ Keeping a close eye on the sleepy little boy, she turned her gaze back to Pascual. ‘There is one other thing …’
He frowned. ‘What is it?’
‘I know you suggested I should fold my business and put it behind me now that you’ve paid off my debt … but what am I to do all day when Adán is at school, Pascual? I want to pay back the money I owe you. I have to have a job of some sort. I can’t just sit around and be idle.’
He thought of several of his friends’ wive
s, who didn’t work at all and seemed more than content to shop, travel, and dress in the most up-to-date haute-couture fashion, being a decorative adjunct to their successful well-heeled husbands at dinner parties and polo matches.
Pascual had known from the first time he had met Briana that she was not a woman who would be remotely satisfied with such a way of life, and he did not blame her. He had even suggested she go to college and train for a career that appealed to her. Until such time as their children came along, of course … Now he took his time considering what she had said. He sensed her concern. Understood it too. They might not be contemplating the most idyllic of unions, after what had transpired between them, but the trouble was, as he gazed at her lovely face across the dinner table, Pascual kept forgetting that he wasn’t in love with her any more.
A wave of heat consumed him at the thought that she would be sharing his bed tonight … and every other night for the foreseeable future, if he had his way.
‘What if I have a word with some of my own business contacts and see if there isn’t a demand for the kind of hospitality services you offer in the UK? We could set you up in business here in Buenos Aires. How would that be?’
The relief and pleasure in her expression was instantaneous. ‘Really? You would do that for me?’
He did not know right then why he should think of what she told him about her ‘schizophrenic’ upbringing, her father who had called her his ‘regrettable mistake’, but once the thought had surfaced it was not easily relinquished. He wondered how any father could not recognise the many gifts a lovely daughter could bring and—not only that—want the best that life could offer her.
‘Sí,’ he answered thoughtfully. ‘I would do that for you.’
‘Señor Dominguez! Señor Dominguez! I am so sorry to interrupt, but—’
‘Take a breath, Sofia!’
The small party glanced towards the dining room entrance in unison as the plump, flushed-faced housekeeper suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking as if she’d negotiated the long and winding staircase up to their landing at breakneck speed.
‘What is the almighty panic?’
‘Your parents and your cousin have arrived! They heard that you were back and—’
‘How did they hear?’ Immediately Pascual got to his feet, his dark gaze narrowing suspiciously.
‘Your mother rang earlier this morning and I told her you were returning with your fiancée and your son … Did I do wrong, Señor Dominguez?’
Sighing, Pascual pushed his fingers through his thick dark hair. Frankly, this was one impromptu visit he could do without! His plan had been to phone his family the following day, after a good night’s rest, and inform them of what had transpired in England—how he had met up with Briana again and learned that he had a son.
He hardly needed to be a mind-reader to know exactly what his suspicious mother’s thoughts would have been when she’d heard the news! Top of the list would no doubt be that Briana had somehow blackmailed him into taking her back, wrongly convincing him that the child she’d borne was his when in actual fact he was the offspring of some other man. Well … she would only have to set eyes on Adán to know immediately who his father was!
‘What shall I do, señor?’ Looking a little distressed, Sofia waited for instructions.
‘Show them into the downstairs drawing room and get them some drinks,’ he answered curtly. Then, deliberately softening his tone, he said, ‘Tell them we will be down in a few minutes. Gracias, Sofia.’
‘Sí, señor.’
Abruptly the housekeeper turned and went back the way she’d come.
The tension in the room was as taut as the atmosphere in an aeroplane after take-off had been inexplicably delayed. Immediately Pascual met Briana’s large grey eyes, and saw the worry and strain reflected there.
‘It will be okay,’ he said lightly, privately knowing that nothing was ever that simple or clear-cut when it came to his passionate-natured mother, and wishing again that he could have delayed this meeting until tomorrow at least.
‘Will it?’ She was rising to her feet, and with her hand on top of their son’s curly dark head she sighed. ‘I don’t mind so much for myself if accusations are going to be leveled,’ she told him, raising her chin, ‘but I do mind that Adán might be upset in any way.’
She was as protective and fierce as any feral creature around her cub, Pascual saw, and an unexpected bolt of admiration jolted through him at the knowledge.
‘You’ll see she’s done a good job in raising him,’ Briana’s mother had asserted, and already he was finding that to be perfectly true.
Considering his visitors downstairs, he reflected that it was fortunate his father was there tonight—because if anyone could get Paloma Dominguez to see sense and calm down then it was Iago. He had been far less judgemental of Briana, he recalled, regret shooting through him that he had not addressed the matter of his parents’ less than warm reception of his bride-to-be before.
‘I will simply introduce him to my parents and then ask Sofia to take him up to bed. I promise you I will not tolerate any upset caused to him either.’
He saw her slender shoulders relax a little before she leaned down towards Adán, helping him out of the large dining chair that left his little legs dangling several inches from the floor.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured. Reaching for a starched linen napkin, she cleaned the chocolate ice cream stains from around his mouth, then kissed the top of his head. ‘There, poppet … now you’re fit to be seen by the Queen of England herself!’
‘We had better go down, then.’
Gesturing towards the door, Pascual waited for them to precede him into the long, high-ceilinged corridor, with its six suspended crystal chandeliers, and privately vowed that if his mother caused any distress to either of them then he would not hesitate to tell her in no uncertain terms to leave his house and not come back until she could learn to be more civil …
CHAPTER NINE
AS BRIANA and Pascual entered the room, with Adán between them, the three adults who had been waiting for them stood up in unison from the luxurious armchairs they’d been occupying. Immediately the sight filled Briana’s heart with apprehension and dread. They must despise her for what she’d done to their son. A reunion hardly boded well under the circumstances … how could it?
But just then Pascual gently touched his hand to the back of her waist, and, intuiting that he was giving her his support, she felt a surge of deep gratitude ripple through her. Her determination not to be intimidated renewed, she lifted her chin and made her lips form a smile.
‘Holà!’ His resonant voice impinging on the tension-filled silence, Pascual walked forward to embrace his parents and cousin in turn, before returning to Briana’s side.
The frighteningly elegant and slim Paloma Dominguez—with her slanted feline eyes, faultless make-up and classically beautiful haute-couture clothing—was a formidable sight at the best of times, and she was not one to be slow in vocalising her opinion on anything. But everyone appeared to lapse into a stunned silence as they glanced in Briana’s direction, and she was acutely aware that their attention was focused on the little boy holding her hand, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
In English, and with pride in his voice, Pascual smiled and announced clearly, ‘This is my son—Adán.’
It was Iago Dominguez—his father—who moved first. A little broader of girth these days, than Briana remembered, he was still an extremely imposing and attractive man for his age. Now, with no trouble at all, he dropped down easily to the same level as Adán and, his brown eyes clearly emotional, in wonderment reached out to stroke the tips of his fingers across Adán’s baby-soft cheek. ‘Holà, Adán. Soy su abuelo … I am your grandfather … Did you know that you look just like your papà did when he was your age?’
Adán was shaking his head in reply and his small hand gripped Briana’s a little tighter.
‘Well, little one … you do. The likeness is
incredible!’ Standing up to his full height again, Iago now surveyed Briana with an emotional glance. ‘He is a fine boy,’ he declared a little gruffly. ‘But you were wrong to walk out on my son and cause him such distress … also to keep from us all the fact that you had had his child! What can have possessed you to do such a thing?’
Before Briana could get past the dryness in her mouth to speak, Pascual stepped in, his hand reassuringly at her back again. ‘Have you ever thought that you and rest of the family might have played your part in driving Briana away, Father?’ he suggested. ‘Think how hard it was for her to come and live amongst us—to leave her home, her family, her friends, and then not to feel exactly welcomed by my own family?’
‘We did not know her very well back then. She was unknown to us … all but a stranger … and it takes time to get to know someone, does it not?’
‘You did not act as if you wanted to get to know her at all! You kept her at a distance, and I fooled myself that it was not happening instead of telling you that your behaviour was unacceptable.’
It warmed Briana beyond measure that Pascual was standing up for her. It gave her the courage to speak out as she had never spoken out to his parents before.
‘I wanted you to like me … to accept me—at least for Pascual’s sake, if not my own. My own father rejected me, and when I saw that it might be the same again for me, living here in Buenos Aires amongst people who treated me in a similar manner … well, it brought back some of those unhappy feelings I’d had as a child and I was naturally apprehensive.’
Behind Iago—who was suddenly looking thoughtful—his wife Paloma moved towards them with an expression that was completely bereft of the new consideration reflected in her husband’s. Her cool gaze seemed as distant as it had always been to Briana as it haughtily scanned her features.
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