by Robin Gianna
Or, maybe, a fate that led to one’s death.
The thought made Mateo’s chest ache. When he’d agreed to his brother’s pleas to keep the kind of woman he was married to a secret from their parents, he’d had no idea what he was promising. That the burden of a secret like that could lead to terrible consequences.
He rubbed his hands over his eyes. Tried to remind himself that he didn’t know for sure if that’s why his brother had become more and more reckless. Regardless, he should have been here for him. Supported him and advised him, instead of living his life hiding far away in New York, where he could turn a blind eye to how bad things had gotten.
The same with his father’s illness. Showing up once every couple of years hadn’t been much help with his father’s ongoing deterioration, but his excuse was that he’d known Emilio had been all the support they needed.
So, now they wanted to believe Mateo was good enough to take Emilio’s place, when it had always been more than clear he never had been? Never would be?
No. There was a better solution that would be right for everyone, including his parents. He just had to figure out exactly what that was.
The depressing thoughts clouded his mind and threatened to put a damper on the afternoon he wanted to enjoy with Miranda. Why Emilio had loved the woman their parents had chosen for him, Mateo had no clue. Even more now that he’d met a woman like Miranda Davenport. Growing up privileged hadn’t spoiled her—if anything, it must have been part of what had molded her into the strong, driven woman she was today. In fact, Miranda was the kind of woman who might change even the most hardened bachelor’s mind when it came to ideas on marriage.
The thought startled him, and he wondered why his mind insisted on going to strange places. Must be from the stress of being home again, and he shook the discomfort from his shoulders to walk up the few stone steps and knock on the door.
No answer. He glanced at his watch to be sure it was 2 p.m., which was the time they’d agreed on. About to knock a second time, the door swung open with a sleepy-looking Miranda standing there in a robe, looking embarrassed.
“Buenas tardes, Dr. Davenport.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She ran her fingers through mussed brown hair. “I was so sound asleep I must have slept through my alarm. Come in.”
She opened the door wider, and every uneasy thought Mateo had had moments ago evaporated. As his gaze touched her soft-looking hair, her full lips and slumberous eyes, all he could think about was the same thing that had filled his brain—and body—the last time he’d seen her wearing a robe. Thoughts of reaching for her and tangling his own fingers in her hair, of kissing that tempting mouth and sliding off that robe to touch her soft skin and see where it all might lead.
He forced his attention to the window, and cleared his throat. “We don’t have to go out this afternoon if you’re too tired.”
Maybe that was a better plan. Keeping his distance for now probably made sense, since he’d been having trouble thinking of her as just a friend. A woman who was helping him out with a problem, someone to enjoy spending time with as he showed her the country of his birth.
Not a woman to have mind-blowing sex with, a tempting thought that kept appearing foremost in his mind whenever he saw her, despite telling himself he shouldn’t be thinking about her that way. Not when she was his guest, and had agreed to a friendly trip, not a quick affair.
“No, I’m ready. I slept well, obviously.” Her lips curved in a sweet smile. “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”
It felt impossible to not watch her run up the stone steps, her slender, shapely legs and bare feet making her seem very much like any other woman, and not the skilled and accomplished doctor she was.
No, not like any other woman. Something about her attracted him, drew him in, in a way he couldn’t remember happening before. Minutes ticked by as he was trying to figure out exactly why, when she trotted down again to sit on the bottom step and shove on walking boots.
“This house is like a small version of your big house. So old, yet so warm and inviting. I can’t believe even this space is all decorated for Christmas.”
Mateo looked around at the evergreen boughs and gold ribbon wrapping the bannister, the candles circled with greenery and pinecones, the Christmas tree in the corner covered in gilded balls, and breathed in the scent. Memories from his childhood rushed back, and he was glad all of them were pleasant ones.
“My mother loves to decorate for Christmas. Has for as long as I can remember. She’s often had numerous holiday parties and church gatherings, too, which the priest always appreciates. Even winter barn parties with friends in the horse business. Christmas is always a big thing at the Castillo de Adelaide Fernanda.”
Miranda didn’t answer, seeming to fiercely concentrate on lacing her boots, which made him wonder about Christmas at the Davenport house. “What about your family? Is Christmas a big deal?”
“Depends on who you ask, I suppose.” That seemed like an odd answer, but before he could ask her what she meant, she stood and ran her hand along the stone wall. “Tell me about this guest house. Is it the same age as the main one?”
“Yes. About three hundred years old, give or take a few.”
“It must be something special to not only be a part of that, but to be a member of the nobility.”
“Special? I think you already know how I feel about my family obligations, Miranda.” He didn’t want to talk about that right now. About the deep pain and guilt he felt over Emilio’s death. The reality that he wasn’t the man his brother had been. The man his parents had always trusted to be there. “Is your coat in the closet? I’d like to get going so we have all afternoon before we have to be back. I suggest we take today for one of your must-sees while you’re here—the sacred mountain of Montserrat. What do you think?”
“I think I’m up for anything you suggest.” Finally, he got a smile, which managed to make him smile, too. “Especially since I didn’t have time to grab a travel guide and research what all you have to see and do here in Catalonia, and have no idea what Montserrat is.”
“You have a travel guide, and that is me.”
“Which makes me very lucky, I’m sure.”
“I believe I’m the lucky one to get to show you around.” He helped her slip on her coat, knowing that was beyond true. “I hope you’ll be impressed and amazed by what we’re going to see, Dr. Davenport.”
“Those words fill me with breathless anticipation, Mr. Alves.”
Twinkling blue eyes had his hand sliding down her arm to grasp her hand, because it just felt right. “Then let’s get going.”
The ride in the car was filled with conversation about the places they passed, and at other times a silence so comfortable it struck him as unusual for two people who didn’t really know one another.
For probably the twentieth time, Mateo turned to look at the woman sitting in the passenger seat, anticipation welling in his chest at what her reaction might be to seeing Monserrat. He still remembered the first time his nanny had brought him and Emilio to this place. They’d been amazed by the soaring rocky crags and the thrill of riding the cable car up to see the amazing monastery nestled in the stone, looking almost as though it had simply grown there.
“Those mountains are incredible!” Miranda exclaimed, staring upward as he parked, then came around to her side to open her door. “I can’t believe the shape of the stone, almost like a giant hand dribbled wet sand into spires, and they all stuck together that way.”
“Wet sand fused into a mountain. I like that description—very apt. Just wait until you see how we’re going to get up the mountain to see the basilica.” He reached for her hand because he’d enjoyed holding it the first time, and why not? This trip might have a serious agenda, but he fully planned to enjoy the company of this smart and beautiful woman who had
been surprising him since he’d first asked for her help. Since the moment she’d run into that tunnel.
“I hope it’s not rappelling, like my sister Penny does. I’d probably faint, then fall to my death.”
“No rappelling, promise. And falling to one’s death only happens here maybe once a month.”
She playfully swatted his arm and he started to laugh. With her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, he found himself unable to keep from glancing into her smiling eyes as they moved toward the funicular.
Whenever he’d seen her in the hospital, she’d been all business, working efficiently, and not one of the docs who joked around sometimes with the staff and medics that came and went. When she’d come into that tunnel collapse, how unnerved she’d been afterward had surprised him, though it shouldn’t have. Most people would be freaked out to have rubble falling on their heads, but, then, most people wouldn’t have run in like that either. Angry as he’d been at her, and, yes, worried about her, he had to admire that she’d come to help even though he now knew she’d been scared the whole time. She didn’t strike him as an act first, think later kind of person, so he had to assume she’d decided she had to go in there regardless of the risk, and that impressed the hell out of him, though he wasn’t about to admit that to her.
“We’re going to take the—”
He quit talking because she’d stopped dead, yanking him to a halt as she did. “Please don’t tell me we’re going to get in that yellow thing and go up into the sky.”
“Well, we’re not going up into the sky, we’re going to see the basilica and museum at the monastery up there, and the Black Virgin of Montserrat. But, yes, we’re getting in the funicular to do that.”
“Oh, my gosh.” The blue eyes staring up at him were no longer smiling, they looked beyond worried. Even panicked. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, Mateo, but I don’t know. I never thought I had a fear of heights, but looking at that thing now has me freaking out.”
“Miranda.” He turned her to him and tugged her close against him. “I would never suggest you do something that frightens you. So of course we may just stay down here, and go somewhere else if you want. But if you can face your fear the way you did in the subway tunnel, I can promise you that seeing the basilica, the Black Virgin, and the incredible views will make you glad you did.”
She pressed her hands against his chest and stared at him, her eyes still wide, but looking a little less panicked now. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
“Not silly. You know as well as I do that lots of people have a fear of heights. But I can tell you that I’m an expert at that rappelling you don’t want to do. So if the cable car gets stuck, I’ll hold you in my arms like Tarzan with Jane, and we’ll still make it down.”
She managed a weak laugh. “I can’t say that really reassures me.”
“It should. I really have rescued a number of people that way, whether it was on a mountainside or a building or from a helicopter while I was in the military. But the odds of having to do that fall into the slim-to-none category, as I’ve never heard of the cable car getting stuck. I’m as sure as I can possibly be that it’s completely safe.”
“All right.” A steely look of determination came to her face that reminded him of how she’d looked in the tunnel when he’d told her to leave. “Let’s do it. And I apologize in advance if I hyperventilate or hold on to you too tightly.”
“I can handle either scenario.” He hoped she didn’t hyperventilate, but her holding on to him? Now, that he’d be more than fine with. “And I’ll do what I can to make you feel more comfortable.”
With that promise, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders while holding her hand with the other. Miranda squeezed it hard and, as the cable car jerked to a start, pinched her eyes shut. Mateo had to grin at her cutely scrunched-up face. Soon, though, her worried expression wasn’t funny at all as the slight sway of the cable car and the chilly breeze touching their skin seemed to ratchet up her panic big time.
“Oh, God, Mateo. I don’t think I can do this.”
Looking like she might actually cry, she practically cut off the circulation in his hand as she gulped in breaths. “Damn it, Miranda. I feel terrible that this is making you miserable.”
“I...I can do it.”
“You can. You are doing it. Look upward at the clouds instead of down. I think that one looks a little like Benny, don’t you? Except not as fat.”
As he’d hoped, giving her something to think about besides how high they were seemed to calm her slightly. “Definitely not as fat.” She sucked in a breath and pointed at another cloud formation. “That one looks a little like the beautiful Christmas tree in the guest house, doesn’t it?”
That she was trying so hard to act brave and composed when she obviously didn’t feel that way tugged at his heart. Just like when he’d realized later that the show of confidence and determination in the tunnel had been an act.
Miranda was the kind of woman who donned a persona of perfection, acting the way she expected others wanted and expected her to, even if it made her suffer.
“It does look a lot like a Christmas tree, doesn’t it?” He grasped her chin and gently turned her face toward him, and the obvious anxiety there sent a sharp stab of guilt into his chest. “We’ll be on solid ground soon, Miranda. Hang in there for just a few more minutes, okay?”
He pressed his cheek to hers, cupping her face in his hand as he held her close. “Just close your eyes. Think about wonderful, beautiful things you enjoy. What are those things?”
“Puppies and kittens,” she whispered against his skin. “Babies. Snow. Walking in nature. Cake. Especially cake.”
“Now you’re talking.” He smiled, hearing her relax a little, feeling the tenseness in her neck and arms fade. “What kind of cake?”
“Chocolate. Rich chocolate with chocolate icing, too, but really any kind of cake makes me happy.”
“Good to know. It’s also good that you like to walk in nature, because that’s our next excursion, no scary heights involved. And see?” The funicular squeaked and jerked as it swung into the terminal, and Mateo found himself pressing a lingering kiss to her warm cheek before pulling back. “Here we are, safely on the mountain. You made it! And I think going down won’t be as scary.”
Her hands slowly slid from his shoulders as she opened her eyes and looked around. With a deep breath, her gaze turned to his. “I’m so sorry I was such a baby. Thank you for helping me get through it.”
“You weren’t a baby, you were expressing genuine fear, and we all have things we’re afraid of, don’t we? Believe me, I saw lots of men break down during training exercises in the military, even when they knew they weren’t in real danger but were scared anyway. Human nature, right?”
“Right. Thank you for...for not judging me.”
Did the woman often feel like she was being judged? He couldn’t imagine that, considering her stellar reputation at the hospital. Then again, he knew first-hand what it felt like to be judged by people close to you.
He held her hand as they exited the car, and some of his guilt faded when a genuine smile lit her face as they walked along the wide path, looking at the scenery surrounding them.
“This is breathtaking! The mountains are like none I’ve ever seen before. And the monastery looks like it’s almost part of the rock, you know?” Her grip on his hand loosened, and that blue gaze turned to his, a look of awe sliding over her face. “The engineering that had to go into that funicular is incredible. I wonder how they built it?”
“Impressive engineering, yes. But since it was done with modern equipment, to me, it’s not as incredible as getting the monastery built. You said you haven’t traveled in Europe so you haven’t seen the many fortresses built high on mountains to keep the population safer from marauders, and make it easier to see enemies com
ing. You should plan to do a European tour soon. Even growing up here, I still marvel every time I see one of them.”
“I had some chances to travel with my family, but knew I had to concentrate on college and medical school instead. All that didn’t come as naturally to me as it did to my siblings, you know? They’re all superstars in their own ways.”
She seemed utterly serious, which Mateo couldn’t believe. He might not know the Davenports personally, but being around Miranda for mere hours showed she wasn’t just smart, she had street-smarts and people-smarts that not everyone with a high IQ possessed.
“I might not know you well, Miranda, but you seem like a superstar to me.”
Her face turned pink and she gave him a shy smile. “Thanks, but you obviously don’t know my siblings very well. And wasn’t I just about to have a panic attack on the way up here?”
“Irrelevant to being a superstar. And even though you were scared, you handled it just fine.”
“I think it’s because you made me feel safer. Just like in the tunnel. So thank you for that. Sometimes...well, there have been a few times in my life when feeling safe was hard to come by.”
The almost shy look of gratitude on her face bothered him. What had he done for her other than hold her close and tell her it would be okay? What exactly did she mean by not feeling safe at times? Did no one she knew support her?
“No thanks necessary.” His voice came out a little gruff. “I’m glad I could help. So now that we’re here, I can’t wait for you to see why you made the effort.”
The tour of the basilica and museum seemed to fascinate Miranda, and her pleasure at seeing them made him smile too. How long had it been since he’d been up here? Too long, as his parents had pointed out, and the now familiar guilt of all that pressed on his chest.
He shook off those thoughts, wanting to enjoy being alone with Miranda for the short time he had. “Quite a few monks still live here at the Montserrat Abbey, though I doubt if we’ll see them. And right over here is the Black Virgin. One story says she was brought here during an eighth-century invasion for protection. She lay in hiding until being rediscovered about two hundred years later. Today, many people come to pay homage to her.”