Afonso kept an eye on them in the rearview mirror.
Catarina glanced over her shoulder. “Is there a problem?”
He didn’t reply right away, keeping watch.
“Afonso, you’re all tense. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. I thought they wanted to pass, but they pulled back.” The other driver slowed down and turned into one of the neighboring farms.
Afonso relaxed his grip on the wheel and kept a steady speed.
A few minutes later, the same van appeared on his rearview mirror, gaining speed. It accelerated until it came on behind the truck, barely missing it.
Afonso turned on the blinkers to pull onto the shoulder, and the van accelerated again, but instead of passing, it rode up next to Afonso. Afonso hit the horn and the other driver hit his back.
“What are they doing?” Catarina’s voice pitched higher.
“I don’t know, but I’m trying to pull over.”
When he glanced over to the other vehicle, the woman in the passenger seat turned to Afonso and smiled.
He knew that smile. It chilled him. Afonso’s heart dropped in his chest. How was it possible that she’d found him?
In the second it took him to get his focus back, the van sideswiped them off the road.
Catarina screamed.
“Hang on!” he said to her.
He grabbed the wheel and held on to it, easing into the brake until the Ford came to a stop in a ditch, leaning forward at a slight angle.
With the heavy load in the back, he’d feared they’d overturn, but he’d managed to prevent it.
He turned to Catarina. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, breathing hard.
Afonso released his seatbelt, hopped out and opened the passenger side door. “Can you get out?”
“I think so.” Her voice trembled, and the click of the seat belt followed.
He was ready to catch her, and his hands went around her waist, setting her down on the ground. Her knees buckled, and he brought her up against him with a firm hand against her back. Catarina sighed and relaxed in his arms for a moment. Afonso released a pent-up breath, grateful nothing worse had happened; mad at the other driver for putting them in danger.
When Catarina let go of him, Afonso led her to a grassy patch, and she sat down. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t have any injuries?”
“I didn’t get hurt. Just a bit shaken.” She looked to the truck, pitching forward in the ditch, doors wide open. “Who were those people?”
“I don’t know the driver, but I think I might have recognized the passenger.”
He drew out his phone from his front pocket. After locating Matias Romano’s number, he hesitated for a second before calling him.
He answered right away. “This is Matias. Hello?”
“Captain Romano, it’s Afonso Cortez. I’m sorry to be calling you.” He didn’t know if the captain was on duty.
“You’re fine. It’s my off week. What’s going on?”
“Have you had any updates on the case, sir?”
Catarina remained seated, watching him tiredly with questions in her eyes. Afonso offered her a half smile. How could he reassure her when he had so many doubts?
“Not in a while. Last time I talked to Senhor Valadares, the investigator still didn’t have any leads. Has something happened?”
“I think I have a lead.” He wasn’t sure, but who else could it be?
“Where are you?”
“I’m still in Castelo Branco. Well, we’re near Sete Fontes, the village on the way to your cousin’s property. A passenger van forced us off the road, and we ended up in a ditch. I didn’t recognize the driver, but I think the passenger was Anabela.”
“Are you sure?” Matias Romano’s voice took on a more urgent tone.
“She wore sunglasses, and the driver sped off after hitting us. I was trying to keep us upright and didn’t even get a good look at the license plate.”
“There wasn’t one,” Catarina said in a low voice.
“Is someone with you?”
“Yes. I’m actually here with—”
Catarina stood and tugged on his arm, shaking her head. Her panicked expression stopped him. “I’m with a friend, sir.”
“Just call me Matias. Did you or your friend get hurt? Was there any damage?”
“We’re fine. No damage.” He placed a hand on Catarina’s shoulder, and she breathed in deeply. “I’m just mad at the situation. Especially if it is her. I’m sorry I can’t be more certain.” It was too much of a coincidence.
“I think you did well in calling me. We can’t be too careful where it concerns Anabela Rialto.” Matias said something in a hushed tone to someone else. “I’ll call Senhor Valadares and apprise him of the situation. Let me know if anything else comes up.”
“I will.”
“Afonso? Be careful, and take care of your friend too.”
Afonso hung up. Catarina had sat back down, with her legs pulled up and her chin resting on her knees. He joined her on the ground, and she turned to look at him.
“I have so many questions, but I’m tired. Can we go home?”
“Let me see if I can get the truck out of the ditch without help.” He turned his palm up, and she took it.
Catarina wasn’t the only one who had questions.
As soon as Afonso stopped the truck in front of the garage, Catarina jumped out and ran to the house.
“Catarina!” he called after her, but she didn’t slow down.
She was furious with him. Her anger burned so hot she wanted to slap him.
Instead of driving straight home after getting the truck out of the ditch, Afonso had driven to Sete Fontes to file a police report. She’d tried telling him she didn’t want to talk to the policeman on duty, but Afonso didn’t listen to her, and they’d spent over an hour in a hot, cramped room while the village cop, clearly due for retirement, had typed their statements with only two fingers. The water bottles the policeman had given them were lukewarm, and the bathrooms hadn’t been updated since the eighties, if not before.
But worse than all that was the chance of being recognized by the village people who’d seen them enter and exit the building. What if some of them had taken pictures?
Catarina ran up the staircase with Afonso right behind her.
“Catarina, wait.” He caught up to her at the landing. “Please. I just want to talk to you.”
She whirled around to him. “Why, Afonso? Why do you want to talk to me?” She crossed her arms.
“I just want to tell you—”
“Why should I listen to you? You didn’t let me tell you anything back in Sete Fontes.” Her voice rose, and she took a breath. “You wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I’m sorry, but we had to stay until the report was done. I know it was inconvenient and you were tired—”
Catarina took a step forward. “Tired? Do you think this is about me being tired?”
“You said the bathrooms were—”
“I can’t be seen in public. Why can’t you understand that?”
“This is the first time I’m hearing about it.” He passed a hand through his hair. “You haven’t told me anything, Catarina. Why don’t you want Matias to know you’re here? I’ve been trying to understand you, and you won’t let me be your friend. How am I supposed to know what you need if you won’t talk to me?”
“You’re so stubborn, you know that?” Catarina clenched her fists.
Afonso stepped closer to her. “Now I’m stubborn? Because I care about your safety?” His voice lowered. “Or because I care about you?”
His words made her pause, and she looked at the man in front of her. “Why would you care about my safety?” She didn’t dare repeat his last question. How could he care about her?
“Did you not hear a word I said?” He made a sound, almost a growl, deep with frustration and something else she couldn’t begin to guess.
Afonso shot his arm
behind her neck and pulled her close, his other hand splayed against her back, firm and possessive.
Catarina gasped, and his mouth landed on hers—fast, hot, insistent. She grabbed his upper arms and opened her lips to him, giving back with the same resolve.
Afonso was kissing her. He was kissing her.
She lost track of time as silent stars exploded within her, around her, inside her. All the stars she never knew could come from only a kiss. Afonso brought her closer still, and his kiss evolved into something deeper and sweeter. Catarina held on to him, wishing the closeness could last forever.
At last they broke the kiss, gasping for air. Afonso’s hands slipped around her waist and he rested his forehead against hers. “Catarina…”
Afonso had kissed her, and she’d kissed him back with fierceness and heat. How could she call that a kiss? It was so much more. Was this the beginning of a relationship that had never even crossed her mind?
Catarina pulled away, unable to deal with all the emotions she saw mirrored in Afonso’s eyes. “Can we talk later, please?”
Afonso nodded, and she took refuge in her room.
*
He’d kissed her.
After dreaming and daydreaming and fantasizing about kissing Catarina, after promising himself he’d never give in to it, Afonso had kissed her.
And not just any kind of kiss. For a moment, he’d let go of his control and drunk her in, tasted her as if he meant so much more with that kiss.
And it scared him that he did. He’d wanted her that much. He still did.
He was halfway to falling in love with Catarina Romano, and he didn’t even know how it had happened. How could he have let his guard down?
He was the biggest idiot he’d ever heard of.
Afonso watched her, the click of the lock echoing through the empty hallway. The message could not be any more clear: she didn’t want him. Why would she?
She was still mourning her husband, and Afonso had taken a kiss without asking.
He turned and went back outside, where he’d left the truck running and the doors still open.
Senhor Francisco approached and gestured to the Ford. “I turned the engine off.”
Afonso nodded. “Obrigado, Senhor Francisco.” Afonso pulled the key from the ignition and went to the back of the truck.
Senhor Francisco met him and started pulling out the supplies from the other side. “Everything okay?” He tipped his chin toward the manor house.
Afonso gave him a tight smile. “Yeah, it’ll be okay.” Nothing was okay, but what else could he say?
They worked side by side until they’d stacked the supplies in the barn, and Afonso placed all his misspent energy into the mindless task.
When he was done, he turned to the older man. “Some people from my past might be coming around.” As much as he didn’t want to alarm the Silvas, he had to warn them about the situation.
Senhor Francisco leaned against the open barn door. “Would this be a good thing?”
Afonso shook his head. “No, this would not be a good thing.”
“What do they look like?”
“A woman in her early thirties. She might have a man with her. I saw them driving a passenger van, but they could be driving something else too. She’s pretty, with dark blonde hair, and she can talk you into anything.”
“You say that from experience?”
“That I do, unfortunately.” If only he could turn back time and undo his mistakes.
Senhor Francisco nodded. “A pretty snake.”
“The worst kind.”
“I’ll have to tell my wife.”
“Please do.”
Afonso took the ATV and rode the perimeter of the property, making sure nothing else had happened since his last inspection. He drove out to the main gate and checked the wall and the fence from the outside.
When he reached the top of the road, he stopped to watch the late sun graze Sete Fontes as the day waned before him. Up here, peace and solitude were a possibility, something he could easily attain if he stopped caring about everything else.
Afonso had wished for Sunset Manor to be an island away from his former life and from the reality of the rest of the world, but islands were not fortresses, and a pretend life wasn’t much of a life at all. Sunset Manor had been Plan A, the regroup-and-start-over plan. But he should have learned by now that plans didn’t work, and unwittingly a Plan B had taken over, the fall-in-love-and-mess-everything-up plan. Did he dare think Catarina might be his Plan C?
He could still feel Catarina’s lips on his, the way she’d trembled under his touch. He unclenched his hands and blew out a breath.
He’d been mad at her for calling him stubborn when she was the stubborn one. After all the promises he’d made himself to keep away, it hadn’t taken much to give in.
How was he going to forget that kiss and pretend it hadn’t happened?
How could he begin to convince Catarina she could trust him?
On the way back to the barn, he stopped at the linden tree where they’d sat before.
Afonso looked up to Catarina’s bedroom and thought he saw her retreat away from view.
Gaining her trust was going to take a lot more than a conversation, especially when she didn’t want to talk to him.
He looked back to the tree. It did have the perfect branch for a swing.
Every night in her dreams Afonso came to her and kissed her. Those kisses had the same passion and fervor she remembered, but the frustration mounted when she woke each morning.
She knew what the real kiss was like, and dream-Afonso’s kiss was not the same as the one she’d received from real-Afonso.
They still hadn’t talked. Afonso had tried, and although a man who wanted to discuss his feelings was a new experience for her, she’d been avoiding that conversation. Unless talking about a kiss brought another kiss, what was the point of it? It was too complicated. She craved simplicity. The simpler the better.
Through the ajar door, the far-away sound of the piano reached her ears. Only in the early morning when everything else was quiet could Catarina discern the music with a few off-key tones. Afonso played every day now; or maybe he’d played every day before and she’d never heard it. Now she was more in tune with him, and his notes came more easily to her, bringing a peace and calm she’d never expected.
How frustrating was it to play on a broken piano? Could it even be fixed? Did he wish for a newer one with unstained keys and a perfect tone? She was like that—stained and imperfect.
Catarina pushed at the sheets and stretched her arms and legs. Another restless night, another night of wishing for what she could not have.
Afonso had kissed her, but he didn’t know about her. He would never want her once he found out the truth. Why would he?
She was pregnant with another man’s child, a penniless widow who’d lost everything. She was a liar who kept secrets about her own identity and about her past. She didn’t deserve happy endings.
Nobody would ever want her again. Least of all Afonso.
Her hands slid to her belly. As her fingers cradled her small, round stomach, the flutter of a butterfly grazed from the inside. Catarina stilled. Was that the baby moving? How could she know for sure? Tears swamped her eyes, and she brushed them off with an impatient hand.
There was no one to share the moment with her.
Catarina rolled to the side and curved into a ball.
Hours later, when she woke again, the sun was high and the light bright. Since coming to Sunset Manor, where none of the windows had curtains, her body had learned to sleep without room-darkening blinds.
A knock sounded at the door, and Dona Madalena pocked her head in. “May I come in?” She carried a tray in her hands.
Catarina sat up in bed. “What time is it?”
Dona Madalena placed the tray on the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s way past noon. Senhor Afonso said to let you sleep in and to bring lunch up to you.”
Catarina’s cheeks heated. “Oh. I wish you hadn’t. You’ll think I’m lazy.” Her stomach rumbled at the sight of food. She spooned the scrambled egg onto the corner of a piece of toast and took a bite.
“Rest and nutrition are a sign you’re taking care of yourself. And taking care of yourself means you’re caring for the baby too.”
Catarina stilled. “What did you say?”
The older woman smiled and drew the box of prenatal vitamins from her apron’s pocket. “You left this downstairs. Did I assume too much?”
A sense of relief came over Catarina that someone else knew her secret. “No, you’re right. I am pregnant.” Catarina took the box and placed it under her pillow. “Did anyone else see it?”
“Men are easily distracted, and they don’t need to know what doesn’t concern them.” She winked at Catarina. “Besides, it’s not my secret to tell.”
Catarina took a drink of milk and set the glass down on the tray. “It’s not the kind of secret I can hide for much longer. Everyone will know pretty soon.”
“I think you’ll find out that this kind of issue has a tendency to resolve itself.” Dona Madalena stood from the bed. “I’ll come for the tray later.” She gestured at the closest window. “You should open up the window. It’s a beautiful day today.”
Catarina ate everything Dona Madalena had brought: the scrambled eggs, the toast, the yogurt and mixed berries. She’d gained an appetite in the last few days and with the nausea gone, she was eating more than she could remember before. Was eating for two a mental excuse, or was there some truth to it?
The sky was the bluest she’d seen in a long time. She approached the window and pulled up on the sash, letting the fresh air and the birdsongs in. If her life were a musical, this was the moment where she’d open her mouth and sing. The thought brought a smile to her lips. Even if everything wasn’t going perfectly, she still had reasons to be grateful for what she did have. A speck of hope took hold in her heart, however brief and light it was.
A movement by the largest linden tree caught her eye. Hanging from a branch, a swing swayed gently in the noonday breeze. From her bedroom window, it looked to have a wooden seat, but the rest of the details were hard to make out in the distance. She frowned. What was Afonso up to?
Love Me At Sunset (Destined for Love: Mansions) Page 8