by Lynne Graham
Joaquin studied her with amusement and he laughed. ‘Did we warn Yolanda that tradition is going to bite even deeper today than she appreciated?’
Upstairs, Yolanda groaned in mock suffering on her call to a friend. ‘You have no idea how soppy they are—always holding hands like kids. And Joaquin is just so clueless it’s painful to watch. He’s given poor Lucy all these dreary, dreadful books on the Maya…and as if that wasn’t enough to bore her to death, he’s dragging her off on some ghastly mega-tour of ruins next month. As if what we’ve got at the foot of the garden isn’t enough for him!’
‘Yolanda!’ Joaquin called.
A week before Christmas, almost a year later, Lucy settled her infant son into his bouncing cradle in the drawing room of the townhouse.
Cindy and Roger were coming for lunch in about an hour and a half. Lucy was wearing an elegant blue dress, purely and simply because Joaquin had remarked on how that shade matched her eyes. She smiled to herself now at the memory of how Joaquin had once described exactly how she should look at their wedding. She had been awfully dim not to immediately grasp that a guy who could even picture what flowers she should carry to the altar was a hopeless romantic and very much in love.
Jaime Enrique Del Castillo yawned to regain his mother’s attention. He had black hair and blue eyes and he was the most peaceful laid-back baby ever. But then their first child had absolutely no reason to be anything other than happy and content, Lucy conceded with a grin. He was first and foremost the most important little person in the household, and he received an incredible amount of attention from his parents, his aunt Yolanda and the staff.
Having left school and gained reasonable results in her exams, Yolanda, now seventeen, was attending a London art college. She was showing some talent and was now more interested in becoming a famous artist than attaining fame as an It Girl. Lucy had had quite an input in that development and, having attained the greater freedom of being a student, Yolanda was growing up fast.
Lucy had experienced a truly blissful first year of marriage, and she could not have been happier. Soon after their wedding Joaquin had swept her off on a leisurely three-week exploration of the ruined cities of the Maya. Although visiting some of the less accessible sites had been ruled out by Joaquin, on the grounds that such exertion was unwise for a woman in the early stages of pregnancy, they had had the most fabulous time on that trip. Lucy was now learning about conservation methods and Joaquin was convinced he had found his soulmate. Yolanda had been known to remark that as company went her brother and Lucy could sometimes be a challenge, particularly when they got stuck into what she deemed ‘that boring stuff’.
Cindy and Roger had visited Guatemala over Easter, and had been invited out to Fidelio’s refurbished ranch. The old man had greeted Cindy with open arms, and Roger with equal warmth, counting them both as relatives and delighted that they should visit him. Fidelio Paez was every bit as sweet as Yolanda had once said he was, and, no longer hampered by her guilty conscience, Cindy had genuinely warmed to the older man.
Lucy and Joaquin’s first child had been born late enough after his secret due date for the uncritical to assume he had been born only slightly early. Their blushes had been spared. Now, crouching down to watch her baby Jaime stare at the lights shimmering over the glittering ornaments on the Christmas tree with round, fascinated blue eyes, Lucy studied the beautiful eternity ring which she had received on her last birthday and decided that she was the luckiest and most spoilt woman in the world.
Joaquin strolled in, dark and devastating in a beige suit. He laughed as Jaime stretched out a tiny hand in the direction of a swinging bauble further out of his reach than he could yet calculate. ‘He would swarm over that tree like a miniature demolition man if he could!’
‘This time next year he’ll be a trial,’ Lucy forecast with fond anticipation.
Joaquin bent down and slotted a rattle into his infant son’s empty hand. Jaime relaxed again. ‘He’ll be even more entertaining than he is now. He’s got a real tough-man grip on that rattle…do you see that?’
Lucy nodded agreement and tried not to smile.
Joaquin straightened and snaked out a powerful arm to catch her to him, brilliant green eyes scanning her amused face. ‘You’re laughing at me again.’
‘Jaime just doesn’t look that tough to me yet,’ she confided chokily. ‘But I’ll take your word for it. Both being guys, I guess you have a special link.’
‘You,’ Joaquin filled in with hungry appreciative emphasis, claiming her parted lips with his own in the kind of long, slow drugging kiss that always left Lucy reeling and dizzy and which was very much a major feature of their lives. ‘A very, very special link. I adore you, querida.’
‘Sí…’ Lucy sighed dreamily.
‘Sí…’ Joaquin confirmed a little raggedly.
Jaime, who enjoyed a thoroughly undemanding itinerary, and who had not the faintest notion of being a chaperon or even being a tough guy at that moment, just went back to sleep and left his parents in peace.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0675-5
DON JOAQUIN’S PRIDE
First North American Publication 2000.
Copyright © 2000 by Lynne Graham.
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