Mendez’s Mistress

by Anne Mather

  ‘Gonzales is okay, I guess.’ Daisy was resigned.

  ‘Well, Joe—Mr Mendez, that is—thinks so. When he told me you’d had to have an operation, he assured me you’d received the best treatment there is.’

  Daisy frowned then. ‘But Dad had already told you that, hadn’t he?’

  Rachel stifled a groan. ‘He said you’d had an accident,’ she said, prevaricating. ‘I dare say he didn’t want to worry me.’

  Daisy didn’t look as if she believed her. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘when you do talk to Dr Gonzales, could you ask him when I can get out of here and go home?’

  Rachel considered. ‘Well, I should think that’s up to your father,’ she said. ‘You’ve still got a week of your holiday left.’

  Daisy pouted. ‘But I don’t want to finish my holiday,’ she protested. ‘I want to go home. Back to England. With you.’

  ‘Oh, Daisy…’ This was an eventuality Rachel hadn’t anticipated. ‘I don’t know whether you’ll be allowed to fly straight after a—Well, after an operation.’ She tucked a strand of Daisy’s hair behind her ear and drew back. ‘Besides, your father will want you to stay.’

  ‘You think?’ Daisy spoke surprisingly cynically for a girl of her age. ‘Now that he’s done his duty, I don’t think he can wait to get rid of me. I know Lauren can’t.’

  ‘Daisy!’

  ‘Well, it’s true. They were talking about going to New York next weekend, and I’m not included in that.’

  Rachel bit her lip. ‘Well, let me talk to Dr Gonzales.’ And your father, she thought grimly. ‘Then I’ll let you know what he says, right?’

  ‘All right.’ Daisy managed a small smile. ‘I do love you, Mum.’

  ‘And I love you,’ said Rachel fiercely as a nurse came into the room. She got to her feet. ‘Now, I’ll go and see if I can get some answers.’

  As it turned out, Dr Gonzales wasn’t available to speak to her that day. One of the nurses explained that he also worked at one of the hospitals in Miami itself, and unless there was an emergency he wouldn’t be in until the following day.

  There was no way Rachel could class Daisy’s sudden desire to leave the hospital as an emergency, and she had the unenviable task of explaining to her daughter that Dr Gonzales’ world didn’t revolve around her.

  Daisy complained, naturally, and she got herself into such a state that the nurse who came to check on her suggested Rachel should go and get some lunch and let Daisy have a rest. ‘There’s a coffee bar downstairs,’ she said pleasantly. ‘It will do you both good to have a break.’

  The coffee bar was almost empty, and Rachel helped herself to a ham sandwich before ordering another coffee. Then, carrying her tray to a window table overlooking the forecourt of the clinic, she made an effort to eat. She should have been hungry, but so much had happened since her arrival she had little appetite.

  Still, the sandwich was delicious, and after a few mouthfuls she realised she was hungry after all. She finished it and was enjoying sipping her coffee when someone sat down at her table. It was a man, and she was about to pick up her coffee and find somewhere else to sit when she realised it was Steve.

  Looking at him, she thought she could forgive herself for not recognising him straight away. He’d lost weight and his skin was deeply tanned. He should have looked fit and healthy, but he didn’t, and she wondered if living with Lauren wasn’t quite the sinecure he’d imagined it would be.

  ‘Hi,’ he said flatly. ‘Daisy said I’d find you here.’ His eyes appraised her with surprising interest. ‘How are you? You look—good. Different, but good.’

  ‘Compliments from you?’ Rachel was sardonic ‘Gee, I wonder why?’

  Steve’s jaw jutted. ‘Don’t be like that, Rache. I’m just trying to be friendly. There’s no point in you and me falling out with one another, is there?’

  ‘Isn’t there?’ Rachel’s look was incredulous. ‘You don’t think keeping the truth about Daisy’s injuries from me was a little thoughtless?’ She shook her head. ‘Not to say downright deceitful.’

  Steve scowled. ‘You don’t think that the way you’re reacting now is why I didn’t tell you?’ he countered. ‘I knew you’d panic. You always do.’

  ‘I don’t panic!’ exclaimed Rachel defensively. ‘But I was worried. And I had a right to know.’

  ‘Why?’ Steve looked sulky now, much like Daisy did when things were not going her way. ‘So you can get the custody order changed?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s what you said,’ Steve reminded her. ‘You said if anything happened to Daisy…’

  ‘While she was with you,’ Rachel finished for him. ‘Yes, I remember.’

  ‘There you go, then.’

  ‘Well, I suppose accidents do happen,’ said Rachel a little wearily. ‘But you do realise she should have been wearing a life jacket, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Steve put both elbows on the table and ran his fingers through hair that was thinning at his temples. ‘But Lauren had said, well, how pale Daisy’s skin looked, and you don’t get a tan wearing a life jacket all the time.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘So, have you spoken to her today?’

  ‘Daisy? Just to ask where you were.’

  ‘You don’t think she’d have appreciated you showing some concern?’

  ‘Why?’ Steve was offhand. ‘She wants to go home, you know? I don’t think Miami has lived up to her expectations.’

  You mean you haven’t, thought Rachel impatiently. ‘And you and Lauren have other plans, right?’ she suggested drily, and Steve gave her a quick look.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re planning a trip to New York, aren’t you?’

  Steve’s arms dropped onto the table. ‘Who told you that?’ He frowned. ‘Was it Mendez?’

  ‘Joe?’ The word was out before she could prevent it, and she saw the familiarity hadn’t gone unnoticed. But Steve had evidently decided not to push his luck, because all he said was, ‘Yeah, Joe Mendez. I know he doesn’t approve.’

  ‘Doesn’t he?’ Knowing Joe as she was beginning to, that didn’t surprise her.

  ‘He takes too much upon himself,’ muttered Steve petulantly. ‘Spending time with Daisy. Meeting you at the airport. What was that all about?’

  Rachel looked down at her coffee, hoping he wouldn’t notice the sudden colour in her face. ‘Well, you weren’t planning on meeting me,’ she pointed out quietly, and Steve made a sound of disgust.

  ‘It would have been all the same if I was,’ he countered aggressively. ‘Since he offered Daisy a ride in his plane, he’s done nothing but poke his nose into my affairs.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Steve shrugged. ‘You don’t know him like I do. I used to think he was my friend. Now I’m not so sure.’

  Rachel lifted her head. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  Steve was wary. ‘What?’

  ‘Why did you lie about your age?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Steve scowled at her. ‘You couldn’t wait to rat on me, could you? This is a young man’s country, Rache. Why shouldn’t I take off a few years? Plenty of women do.’

  Rachel finished her coffee and put the cup aside. ‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘Daisy will be wondering where I am. Why don’t you come with me?’

  Steve made no attempt to move. ‘She wants to go home, you know,’ he said again. ‘She wants to go back with you.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘I don’t think Dr Gonzales will allow that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s too soon after the operation. She’ll probably need a few more days’ rest when she gets out of the clinic.’

  ‘Well, I won’t be here,’ said Steve flatly. ‘I’ve promised Lauren I’d take her to New York, and I can’t let her down.’

  ‘But you don’t mind letting your daughter down?’ Rachel suggested mildly. ‘I think you need to go and see Daisy, Steve. Get your priorities
in order.’

  She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and when she came back Steve had gone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DAISY was alone when Rachel went back up to her room. Apart from asking if Rachel had seen her father, she seemed indifferent to the fact that he’d apparently left without saying goodbye. Rachel guessed that this was one of the reasons why she wanted to go home. Where Steve was concerned, only Lauren seemed to deserve his undivided attention.

  Daisy fell asleep soon afterwards and Rachel took the opportunity to go back to her hotel and get changed. She could hardly go out for dinner in her tank top and shorts, and she was grateful now that she’d pushed the crocheted top and skirt she’d been wearing for her date with Paul Davis into the suitcase.

  Then, before taking a shower, she rang Evelyn and Howard and told them what was going on.

  Naturally, they were both disturbed to hear how serious Daisy’s accident had been, and Evelyn said she’d give Steve a piece of her mind next time she was speaking to him. But Rachel knew that was unlikely. Since the rift between them had been breached, Steve’s parents would be unlikely to do anything to create more hostility.

  She rang off, promising to keep them informed of what was happening, and then took another shower. She even washed her hair again, aware that the heat and humidity had left a sticky film over her skin. Or was that being with Joe? she wondered, combing her hair back from her face and regarding her reflection with critical eyes. There was no doubt that when he touched her her temperature soared out of sight.

  It was later than she’d expected when she got back to the hospital, and Daisy had already had her evening meal. She didn’t appear to have missed her mother. When Rachel entered the room, she was engrossed in one of the films Joe had loaded onto the video iPod, but her eyes widened when she saw her mother had changed.

  ‘That’s new, isn’t it?’ she asked, and Rachel realised she’d bought it after Daisy had left for America.

  ‘I had a date with Paul Davis,’ she said offhandedly. ‘I had to have something to wear.’

  ‘It’s nice.’

  Daisy offered her approval before returning to the film, and Rachel spent the rest of the evening flicking through the magazines the nurse had brought her from the visitors’ lounge. They didn’t stop her nerves from jangling every time someone opened Daisy’s door, but they helped keep her mind off seeing Joe again.

  It was completely dark when she stepped outside later. But the heat hadn’t dissipated. It wrapped itself around her like a damp blanket. Yet the scents of night-blooming blossoms seemed accentuated somehow, their fragrance giving the warm air a sensuous appeal.

  Rachel had half expected Joe to be waiting for her in the foyer, but when the lift reached the ground floor only a female receptionist and two security guards were gathered about the desk. ‘Have a pleasant evening, Ms Carlyle,’ the receptionist called cheerfully, and Rachel was heartened by the fact that people were beginning to recognise her.

  All the same, she wasn’t happy standing out on the forecourt. At night, the clinic had a whole new ambience, and an awareness of how vulnerable she was to possible thieves or muggers couldn’t help but cross her mind. After all, it was after nine o’clock. She couldn’t remember when she’d last gone out so late at home. If ever.

  When a low-slung dark vehicle swung into the grounds of the facility, Rachel drew back in alarm. The car was unfamiliar to her, and when it drove under the portico where she was standing she considered going back inside.

  Then a window was lowered, and Joe said, ‘Hey, Rachel!’

  He was driving himself this evening, and he stopped the car beside her and thrust open his door. ‘I’m late, I know,’ he added, pulling a sheepish face. ‘The traffic on the turnpike was murder.’

  Rachel’s tongue circled her lips. He had no idea how glad she was to see him. ‘I haven’t been waiting long,’ she said quickly, and managed a slight smile when he looked down at her.

  ‘You should have stayed inside,’ he commented, his dark eyes taking an intense interest in her appearance. She was glad now she was wearing the new outfit. For the first time in his presence she didn’t feel her age. ‘A beautiful woman alone is always vulnerable.’

  A beautiful woman! He’d said it again, and Rachel felt a shiver of anticipation slide down her spine. It didn’t matter that she knew she wasn’t beautiful. It was just so good to pretend she was.

  ‘So…’ Joe indicated the car behind him. ‘Shall we get going?’

  ‘Why not?’ Rachel nodded, noticing how attractive he looked in lightweight cream trousers and a dark brown shirt. His collar was unfastened, and his folded-back sleeves displayed forearms liberally dusted with dark hair. There was a slim gold watch on his wrist, and a heavy gold ring occupied the smallest finger of his left hand. He was nothing like Steve, she thought. And wasn’t she grateful for that?

  The low sports-saloon had the distinctive smell of leather combined with what she recognised as an expensive men’s cologne. And mingling with the rest was the singular scent of a heated male body.

  The engine roared to life, and Joe swung the powerful vehicle out into the stream of traffic. Dozens of pairs of headlights streamed towards them, illuminating palm trees and huge planters filled with flowering shrubs. Waxy anthuriums and scarlet proteas grew in careless profusion, reminding her of the semi-tropical climate, the heat of which had been briefly relieved by the fresh breeze blowing in her face.

  ‘There’s a tropical storm off Cuba,’ Joe commented as she tucked her tumbled hair behind her ears. ‘With a bit of luck, it won’t come our way.’ Then he smiled. ‘How’s Daisy tonight?’

  Rachel thought how ironic it was that Joe seemed more concerned about her daughter than the girl’s father. ‘She’s fine.’ She paused. ‘She really loves the video iPod. She’s been watching one of the films you downloaded for her.’

  ‘That would be fun for you.’

  ‘Well, we did talk a little. Mostly about the fact that she wants to come home with me.’

  ‘To England?’

  ‘Hmm.’ Rachel nodded. ‘I’ve explained that Dr Gonzales might not agree. I’ve got an appointment to see him tomorrow morning.’ She hesitated and then went on, ‘I half wish she could. Steve has other plans, I think. He didn’t expect this to happen.’

  Joe’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. So Lauren had apparently got her way about the proposed trip to New York. He didn’t know why he felt so angry about the way they were treating Daisy, but he did. She wasn’t his daughter, but that didn’t stop him from caring what happened to her.

  ‘Why don’t you stay on for a couple more weeks?’ he found himself saying, almost without his own volition. ‘I have a house on Biscayne Bay you could use. It would give Daisy time to recuperate.’

  Rachel caught her breath. ‘I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Joe frowned. ‘You’ve got a deadline for your book. I’d forgotten about that.’

  ‘The book’s not a problem.’ Rachel lifted her shoulders. ‘I wouldn’t be able to work if I was worrying about Daisy.’

  ‘So what is the problem?’ asked Joe quietly, bringing the powerful sports car to a halt outside what looked like a private dwelling. ‘You don’t want my help, is that it?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What are you afraid of, Rachel? That I’ll expect some personal compensation in lieu of rent?’

  ‘No.’ Rachel glanced anxiously towards the building they were parked outside, wondering if she’d been entirely wise to trust him after all. ‘I—we, that is, Daisy and I—we can’t stay in your house.’ She shook her head. ‘However innocent your offer is, it wouldn’t be right.’

  She thought Joe swore, but he thrust his door open without saying anything more and seconds later he was at her side of the vehicle, offering her his hand. His fingers were surprisingly cool considering the temperature, or perhaps it was the sweaty slipperiness of her own that made such a contrast.

  Rachel’s skirt sli
d along her thighs as she swung her feet to the pavement, and Joe felt another surge of frustration at the effect those slim bare legs had on his libido. For God’s sake, what was wrong with him? She wasn’t the kind of woman to get involved with. The word ‘commitment’ simply wasn’t in his vocabulary.

  Meanwhile Rachel was making an effort to smooth her tangled hair. Threading her fingers through it, she was intensely conscious of how her action exposed a provocative wedge of her midriff. Had Joe noticed? she speculated, her pulse quickening. Of course he had. She caught her breath. Was he wondering how far she was prepared to go?

  The appearance of a young man wearing a black waistcoat over a crisp white shirt and pin-striped trousers brought a welcome breath of sanity to the situation. ‘Evenin’, Mr Mendez,’ he greeted Joe familiarly. ‘Evenin’, ma’am; welcome to the Sea House. And how are y’all this evening? Hopin’ that tropical storm gives us a wide berth, I’ll bet?’

  ‘You got it.’ Joe forced a smile and handed over his car keys. Then Rachel felt his hand in the small of her back. ‘Come on.’ He ushered her up the steps into a lamplit foyer. ‘The food here is excellent. I always come at least once when I’m in Miami.’

  The maître d’ met them in the foyer; a short, dark-skinned man of Latino ancestry, he greeted Joe like a long-lost brother. ‘Joe, my man,’ he said, shaking Joe’s hand warmly. ‘I heard you were in the city and I was wondering if you were going to pay us a visit this time around.’

  ‘Would I miss tasting your seared sea bass?’ asked Joe good-naturedly, his hand slipping naturally about Rachel’s waist. ‘Meet Henri Libre, Rachel. He’s another South American exile who’s made a name for himself in Miami and New York.’

  ‘How do you do?’

  Rachel allowed the little man to take her hand, supremely conscious when Joe’s fingers moved against her skin. If his intention was to ensure she was aware of him, he was wasting his time. She’d been aware of no one else since he’d arrived at the clinic.

  The restaurant was through opaque glass doors, and it was instantly cooler once the doors closed behind them. Henri offered them a drink at the adjoining bar, and Joe asked her if she’d like a cocktail. ‘You must try Antonio’s margaritas,’ he said, nodding to the barman. ‘He makes the best cocktails in the city.’