by Mary Lyons
And so, taking a deep breath and determinedly ignoring the hard lump of apprehension which seemed to be settling like a stone in her stomach, she walked calmly across the flagstones towards him.
CHAPTER THREE
WELL…all right, maybe Antonio hadn’t exactly fainted with horror when first setting eyes on her in that dress. But he’d definitely stood gazing at her with a stunned expression for some seconds. Almost as if he’d been hit very hard on the back of his head by a large sandbag.
All in all, it had been a very satisfactory reaction! Certainly as far as she was concerned, Gina told herself with a grin, putting down her knife and sprinkling the chopped parsley onto a white sauce. In fact, when Antonio had closed his eyes for a moment, before taking another dazed look at the girl standing across the hall, she’d felt confident enough to give him a cool, sophisticated smile, before walking slowly past him into the kitchen.
What was that old saying? ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold’? Well, she’d had to wait a very long time, of course. All the same, it looked as though the absolutely outrageous amount of money which she’d had to pay for this dress had definitely been worth every penny!
Having scraped the new potatoes and shelled fresh green peas from the kitchen garden, she was just chopping some more herbs when Antonio walked into the kitchen, carrying two glasses of wine.
He had clearly taken the opportunity to wash and change his clothes while she was having a bath and getting dressed; his hair was still damp from the shower, combed tightly to his head and curling up over his collar at the back.
‘I am looking forward to dinner with some anticipation,’ he announced with a grin, putting a glass down on the kitchen table beside her. ‘In fact, I can’t recall having a meal á deux where the lady concerned was not only beautiful but also a cordon bleu cook,’ he added, removing his pale cream suede leather jacket and placing it on the back of a chair, before leaning casually against the large, old-fashioned kitchen dresser, smiling at her over his own glass of wine.
Oh, yeah? Gina thought, raising a sceptical eyebrow and giving him a slightly ironic smile, before tipping finely chopped shallots, basil and chives into a small bowl containing cream cheese.
That was a nice, flattering statement, of course, but who did Antonio think he was kidding? Because she was quite certain that this devastatingly attractive man would have no problem in obtaining, if he so wished, the culinary expertise of any amount of good-looking women.
Just look at the way he was affecting her, for heaven’s sake!
Even one glance at the strong column of his throat, rising from the white open-necked shirt with its short sleeves displaying the deeply tanned skin of those strong, muscular arms, had been enough to set her pulse racing. And the sight of those beautifully tailored trousers, tightly clinging to his slim waist and hips, was enough to raise her blood pressure!
In fact, to be absolutely blunt, this man was clearly a health hazard as far as most of the female population was concerned. How she was supposed to concentrate on producing even a halfway decent meal when she was feeling so breathless and almost sick with nerves she hadn’t the faintest idea.
Gazing at Gina as she moved deftly around the kitchen, Antonio wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or disappointed to see that she was now wearing a thick white cotton apron. He’d certainly appreciated the sight of her in that ridiculously sexy dress.
However, he was intent on getting to know her better—and hadn’t reached the age of thirty-four without acquiring some considerable experience of women. So, it might be as well if he did his best to ignore the flames of the obviously strong, sensual attraction which were almost visibly crackling between himself and Gina.
He had also noted, with some amusement, her faintly sardonic response to his compliment.
What a pity that he was having to fly back to Spain on Monday! The young girl he’d known some eight years ago had now clearly matured into a delightful, strong-minded and highly desirable woman.
‘So, what are we going to eat tonight?’ he asked.
‘You didn’t give me much notice. So it’s going to be a case of pot luck, I’m afraid,’ she told him with a slight shrug. ‘I thought we’d start with fresh tomatoes, stuffed with cream cheese and herbs. And then, because the Grimsby Flyer called by yesterday…’
‘The what?’ He frowned in puzzlement.
‘It’s a van which zips around this part of East Anglia selling freshly caught fish from door to door,’ she explained, before adding that, while fillets of cod in parsley sauce might sound a bit boring, she reckoned that really fresh cod was a highly underrated fish.
‘As for pudding…’ she continued. ‘How do you feel about gooseberry fool?’
He shrugged. ‘I have no idea. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a gooseberry,’ he added dubiously.
‘What?’ She looked at him in surprise, before moving across the kitchen and returning with a white plastic bowl in her hand.
‘Gooseberry fool is pure comfort food. You’ll love it!’ she told him firmly, handing him the bowl and giving him directions on where to find the bushes in the walled kitchen garden at the side of the house.
Gina was highly amused, and also considerably surprised, to discover that Antonio—whom she’d always thought of as a typically proud Spanish male—had allowed himself to be ordered around by a woman! But, to her astonishment, he’d gone off, as meek as a lamb, to pick the fruit for supper.
However, it did give her the opportunity to get on and do some cooking, without the pressure of his tall, dark presence looming over her in the kitchen.
‘That was utterly delicious,’ he said some considerable time later, putting down his spoon before reaching over to pour her another glass of dessert wine. ‘Not only was it a beautifully composed meal, but clearly I must now add gooseberry purée whipped up in cream to the list of my favourite dishes.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ she murmured, leaning back in her chair and smiling at him across the table in the dining room.
It was a lovely warm summer evening. The French windows were open out on to the terrace, their thin gauzy curtains billowing gently in a light evening breeze. The candles on the table were providing a softly intimate mood, the gentle flickering light contributing to an atmosphere of contentment and harmony.
Gina was astonished to discover just how much she’d enjoyed herself this evening. In fact, she’d been surprised to discover that, for the second time in twenty-four hours, Antonio had turned out to be the sort of guest about whom most hostesses could only dream: charming, attentive and highly entertaining.
Not only had he been highly appreciative of the food—always an important point, as far as the cook was concerned!—but he’d also kept her amused with stories and anecdotes, mostly about his past life as a successful lawyer in Madrid.
Unlike last night, when she’d been far too uptight and nervous, she had felt far more confident when sitting at her own dining room table, and had sought further news of his family. How amazing to think that Isabella, the older of his two sisters—who’d been a young girl, newly engaged to a rather dull fiancé when they’d last met—should now be the proud mother of three little daughters.
‘No sons, as yet,’ Antonio had told her with a slight shrug, before adding that, since his sister was expecting another baby, her husband, Jaime, was of course still hoping that they’d have a boy.
‘Of course,’ she’d echoed with a slight grin, recalling the importance many Continentals, especially the Italian and Spanish, placed on the birth of a son and heir.
However, leaning back in her chair now, and wondering whether she ought to go and make some coffee, Gina suddenly remembered a question she’d thought of asking Antonio earlier in the day, but which the discovery of his wine had sent completely out of her mind.
‘I believe you saw my grandfather yesterday. He’s very elderly, and can’t really face the journey to spend the weekend up here any more. And I�
�ve been terribly busy lately, and haven’t been down to London as often as I’d wish. So…’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘I was wondering how you thought he was looking? To be honest,’ she added with a rush, ‘I’ve been rather worried about him. I didn’t think he was looking at all well the last time we met.’
‘Yes, as you know, I did see him yesterday,’ Antonio said, also hesitating for a moment before adding, ‘I was very sad to note that he was clearly not in the best of health.’
‘You’re quite right, he isn’t. In fact, I’m very worried about him,’ she confessed with a heavy sigh. ‘But Grandpa just says that it’s a case of old age—and that’s something we’re all going to suffer from sooner or later.’
Antonio gazed at the girl who was staring blindly down at her plate, clearly upset about the deteriorating health of a man who was, as far as he knew, her only living relative.
‘Do you have any other members of your family—even distant cousins—who could maybe offer help and support if he became really ill?’ Antonio asked quietly.
‘Unfortunately, no, I don’t.’ Gina sighed. ‘In fact, the only person remotely connected to me is my godmother, Joyce Frazer.’
‘Que?’
‘She’s great! And a terrific character.’ Gina grinned. ‘I don’t know exactly how she came to be my godmother, but she’s always been there for me when I needed her. Joyce is a very wealthy widow, terrifically grand, and lives in a large house not very far away from here. With masses of servants, wall to wall!’ she added with a laugh.
‘But she and my grandfather don’t really get on all that well,’ Gina continued, with a shrug of her slim shoulders. ‘I’ve often wondered if that could be because they’re too alike… Although they’re always very polite to one another, of course.’
There was a slight pause as Antonio sipped his wine and considered the problem.
Gina might be young and inexperienced as far as business was concerned. But from one or two comments she’d made during the evening he suspected that beneath that pretty face and sparkling blue eyes there lay a shrewd and perceptive mind. And, while he wouldn’t wish to dismiss the heaviness of the burden, Antonio felt certain that she was quite strong enough to cope with the unhappy days which lay ahead if anything should happen to her grandfather.
Slowly revolving the slim stem of a crystal wine glass between his long tanned fingers, Antonio said quietly, ‘Your grandfather does, of course, have a point. We must all eventually grow old, no?’
‘Yes.’ Gina nodded.
‘So…what is likely to happen to Brandon’s of Pall Mall when your grandfather is…er…no longer around to run the business?’ he queried gently.
‘Goodness knows!’ she told him with a slight shrug.
Buried in thought for a moment, she slowly realised that the man sitting opposite her had also found himself facing the same problems as she did. That he’d been forced to unexpectedly take over and run a family business. And was therefore well able to understand the many difficulties which she knew lay ahead of her.
‘The fact is that my grandfather still has the reins of the business very firmly in his own hands,’ she said at last. ‘And, although he’s intending to leave me the business, I’m really in no hurry to take it on!
‘However,’ she added, ‘I don’t think he quite realises the problems of suddenly finding oneself in the driving seat, so to speak, without first having learnt to switch on the car’s engine!’
‘Ah!’ Antonio smiled across the table at her, pleased to note that his judgement of this girl’s general acumen and good sense had been correct. ‘I take it that you mean you really should have some experience in learning to run the business before being ultimately responsible for the firm?’
‘Precisely!’ She nodded. ‘Even if I wished to interfere—which I most certainly do not—my grandfather simply isn’t capable of delegating the day-to-day running of the business. Although, to be fair, he did make sure that I had some considerable experience of working under him, at the office in Pall Mall, before coming up to take charge of the local branch here in Ipswich.’
She paused for a moment. ‘I suppose it’s only natural that he shouldn’t want to let go. After all, he’s been running the business since the year dot. So he’s bound to think that no one else can do it as well as he can. And, to be quite honest, he’s probably quite right!’ she added with a rueful smile.
‘Well…it seems to me that there is nothing you can do about the problem at the moment,’ Antonio told her. ‘As for the future…? Who knows what might happen? It is, after all, quite possible that you might marry a man who’d be able to help and support you in the business.’
She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. ‘Anything is possible,’ she told him. ‘But I’m in no hurry to settle down. I mean…I’ve still got an awful lot to learn about the wine business. Besides,’ she added with a grin, ‘at twenty-six I’m hardly on the shelf! And what about you?’
‘Me?’ He blinked, a brief, startled expression flickering across his tanned face for a moment.
‘Yes—you!’ She grinned. ‘There’s no need to look so surprised. You must be…what?…about thirty-four by now? Which, I must admit, does sound as if you’ve got at least one foot in the grave!’
‘Thank you, Gina!’ he laughed.
‘Well—are you married?’
‘No. No, I am not,’ he told her firmly.
‘What? Not even a fiancée…or two?’ she teased, feeling slightly giddy and light-headed.
‘Ah, well…’ He grinned. ‘Maybe there was a “fiancée or two”, as you put it, in the past. But the sad truth is that I lost my heart to someone a very long time ago,’ he added slowly, staring down into his glass of wine. ‘Unfortunately, the circumstances were…well, let us just say that they were difficult.’
‘Oh, dear. Was she married?’
He gave a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘These things happen. However, that is all well in the past, when I was young and very foolish. Fortunately, time takes care of most problems. And maybe, as I said earlier, you may find a husband who will be a help and support to you when you finally take over your grandfather’s business.’
‘Well…’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘It depends how you define “helpful”, doesn’t it? I certainly don’t want to get hitched to some boring old accountant!’
‘No indeed!’ he drawled, leaning back in his chair and allowing his glinting dark eyes to flicker over the delicious curves of the girl sitting opposite him. ‘Especially, my dear Gina, when it is clearly obvious to me that a very beautiful girl such as yourself would have no problem in finding a husband.’
Giving him a brief smile, and wishing that she was better at accepting compliments, Gina was painfully aware of the deep flush rising up over cheeks.
‘And in any case—’ Antonio shrugged ‘—you might already be deeply in love with someone whom you would hope to marry in the future. Hmm?’
‘No, there’s no one special in my life at the moment,’ she told him firmly.
‘But I imagine that you must have had many boyfriends, no?’
‘Well…yes, of course I have,’ she retorted quickly, definitely not prepared to let this devastating, highly attractive man think that no one had ever fancied her!
‘And at least two of them wanted to marry me!’ she added defiantly.
And then, as he gave a low, sexy laugh, she could feel her cheeks burning again as she realised that she must sound a complete idiot.
Oh, Lord! Maybe she’d drunk too much wine? Because, during the last few hours, when they’d been sitting talking and laughing companionably together, she’d felt totally relaxed and at ease.
But now…now the atmosphere between them suddenly seemed to be crackling with hidden tension. Just as it had earlier in the day, in that dark old cellar beneath the shop. A highly-charged aura of sexual tension, which had the effect of making her feel extraordinarily nervous and ill at ease.
She was findin
g it almost impossible to tear her gaze away from the disturbing gleam in his dark eyes; their glittering depths carried a message which she didn’t quite understand, but which seemed to be prompting a deep tide of excitement to begin flowing through her veins.
As she stared at Antonio, leaning casually back in his chair and smiling across the table at her as he slowly sipped his glass of wine, there seemed no obvious or logical reason why her heart should suddenly start pounding like a sledgehammer out of control. Or why prickles of apprehension should be tingling up and down the length of her spine…
Oh, dear! She really shouldn’t have drunk so much wine—it definitely seemed to have made her acutely aware of Antonio’s strong, raw sexuality. So it had clearly been asking for trouble not to watch her intake of alcohol as carefully as he’d been doing. Although, of course, it was different in Antonio’s case, since he was going to be driving back to London later tonight.
But…but all she could think about was the woman to whom he’d apparently lost his heart many years ago. Did he still care for her? And…and why should she be feeling so sick about it if he did?
Coffee! That was what she needed. Lots and lots of strong coffee, Gina told herself, as Antonio excused himself for a moment, and she quickly made her way to the kitchen.
As much caffeine as she could manage to absorb—if the fumes of alcohol now swirling around in her brain were anything to go by.
So…OK, she’d been an idiot to drink so much tonight, but that had surely been understandable? It wasn’t every day that your long-lost love suddenly appeared out of the blue. And he’d turned out to be every bit as attractive as he had been all that time ago. And Antonio had already caused her enough grief and unhappiness to last a lifetime. She definitely couldn’t face another long period while she tried to get over the disastrous effect he appeared to have on her frail emotions.
In fact, you stupid fool, you’ve allowed him to charm the socks off you, she castigated herself bitterly, as she carried the tray of coffee into the large sitting room.