Behind the clear green of her eyes he sensed her mind racing.
‘It’s true,’ she added, ‘that Libby and her cohorts might be a little slower than other workers, but it’s equally true that they get through the work. They’re not shirkers.’ Her face softened. ‘They’re also inspiringly cheerful—not to mention grateful for the opportunity to work. It makes for a very happy working environment.’
Wynne had created a family here. Her mother might have abandoned her, but she’d created a home for more than just herself. His stomach churned. She must have been in dire straits to jeopardise all that and sell to him. No wonder she lived in fear of him destroying it.
‘It’s also true that Libby and her fellow workers need to be supervised very carefully. But April—who you might recall is—’
‘Your head of housekeeping, yes.’
Did she think he paid no attention whatsoever? Did she think he held himself so far above his staff that he didn’t even know their names?
The fact of the matter was the moment he’d met Libby he’d known that he’d have to abandon his dream of creating a luxury hotel. Villa Lorenzo would have to become something else—and it had taken him several long, dark, sleepless nights to find any peace in that conclusion.
It had helped him to know, instinctively, that Lorenzo wouldn’t want him to create a hotel where workers like Libby weren’t welcome. But what would Lorenzo have wanted? How could Xavier pay a fitting tribute to Lorenzo...commemorate his grandfather’s memory in a lasting and worthwhile way?
What would Lorenzo have wanted?
He’d have wanted Xavier to accept that afternoon tea that Wynne had organised as a welcome for him.
The shock of that realisation had made Xavier’s stomach pitch. ‘Don’t make the same mistakes I made.’ Lorenzo would want a place where he could be himself—a place of fun and whimsy. Most of all he’d want any sign of coldness, superiority and disapproval banished.
Wynne cleared her throat, and Xavier pulled his thoughts back to the here and now.
‘Well, April is very experienced, and she’s excellent with all the housemaids.’
‘You do not hire your breakfast girl, Meg, from the shelter?’
The pulse in her throat pounded, betraying her agitation. ‘You’ve noticed Meg’s scars?’
He had. ‘How did she come by them?’
‘Her ex-boyfriend threw battery acid at her.’
He dragged a hand down his face.
‘I hired Meg from an agency that places women who are victims of domestic abuse into the workforce.’
He glanced up to see her rubbing a hand across her chest.
‘I hired Tina from the same agency.’
His hand clenched. Men had hurt these women...?
Wynne glanced at his fist and swallowed hard. He forced himself to relax it.
‘I am very sorry that Meg and Tina have had such bad experiences.’
She tossed her hair, her eyes growing dark and defiant. ‘And I suppose you also ought to know that I hired both April and Justin, our maintenance man, from prison release programmes.’
He straightened. ‘They are...criminals?’
She pointed a finger at him. ‘Ex-criminals, who have paid their debt to society.’
Her finger shook. He wanted to reach across and kiss it.
‘Xavier, you can turn away from people like this all you want. It doesn’t change the fact that they exist. When you turn your back on the chance to help—on the chance to make a good difference in the world—then you become part of the problem.’
He hadn’t turned his back on anyone, and her assumption stung. ‘It’s is not my responsibility to—’
‘Of course it is! How much money do you make? What opportunities in life have you been granted that other people can only dream about? Of course you have a responsibility! You and everyone else like you who enjoys a privileged position.’
‘Did I say that I would not work with the staff you have employed here?’
Her throat bobbed. ‘You mean...?’
‘So this is what has had you so worried all this time? You have been afraid that I will not work with such people as Libby, Meg or April?’
She stared at him with throbbing eyes. ‘It would be easy for someone like me to start over, Xavier, but far harder for them.’
She did think he had no heart!
‘So feel free to fire me, if you must, but—’
‘I have no intention of dismissing you!’ The words left him on a roar. He had no intention of dismissing anyone!
She leaned across the table towards him, suddenly earnest. ‘If it makes any difference whatsoever, this programme is totally my own idea. I’m the one who implemented it—not Aggie.’
She thought that would have an effect on his decision? She thought he would punish innocent parties because of Aggie?
His stomach churned. But wasn’t that exactly what he’d been intending to do? However unknowingly?
He shoved his chair back. ‘The staff can stay.’
She stared at him as if a giant weight had been lifted off her. ‘Oh, Xavier! I—’
‘I believe you have enough work to be getting on with for the rest of the day, yes?’
The brilliance of her smile faltered. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Then I’ll leave you to it.’
He stalked from the room, trying to out-stride the darkness threatening to settle over him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
XAVIER STOOD OUTSIDE of the doors of the Clover Fields Care Home on the outskirts of town the following Wednesday afternoon and eased a breath from his lungs.
If Wynne knew he was here... Well, she’d be far from pleased. But, regardless of what she thought, he had no intention of yelling at Aggie. He had a message to deliver. And then he would leave.
Once he’d done this, and the refurbishment on the motel was complete, he could return to Spain. The sooner that happened the better. He dug his fingers into the tight muscles of his nape, trying to shift the tension that had him wound up tight. Wynne and her treating everyone like members of a happy family was starting to get to him. It was all very pleasant, but it was still a fantasy. He had to leave before he started to believe in it.
Because, regardless of what Wynne said, she didn’t like him. She didn’t think he had a heart. She thought he represented everything that was the antithesis of the culture she’d created for the motel. Despite her smiles and her dinners and all her good humour and hospitality, her ‘happy family’ ethos didn’t include him. And that stung more than it had a right to. The problem was that she was so adept at creating that impression there were times when he was in danger of forgetting it was just a fantasy.
At least with Camilla he hadn’t been in danger of falling for a fantasy so far out of his reach.
And meeting Aggie today would help break that spell too.
Without giving himself any further time to think, he pushed through heavy double doors. Discreet enquiries had informed him not only of the name of Aggie’s nursing home, but her room number as well. He stood outside her door for a couple of moments before forcing his legs through the doorway.
An elderly woman glanced up from the bed, her eyes bright. ‘Do I know you, dear?’
She was tiny! He came to a dead halt and his heart started to pound. Bile churned in his stomach. He’d built Aggie up in his mind as some kind of Amazonian temptress without a heart. But the woman in the bed was so frail and...human. And old!
‘Are you my father?’
He stilled and a fist tightened about his chest. ‘No.’ He swallowed and cleared his throat. ‘I’m a...a friend of Wynne’s.’
‘Wynne?’ Her eyes clouded. ‘I don’t know anybody by that name.’
‘Your g
randdaughter?’
‘I have a granddaughter?’
He closed his eyes. Oh, Wynne. His heart went out to the younger woman for all she’d been silently suffering.
* * *
A familiar voice floated from Aggie’s room into the corridor and Wynne stopped dead a few steps short of the door.
Xavier!
She went to leap forward, but at the last moment forced herself back. She couldn’t go racing into Aggie’s room, grab Xavier by the throat and shake the living daylights out of him—no matter how much she might want to. It would upset Aggie—frighten her—and Wynne had made a promise to herself to make these final years of Aggie’s as happy and comfortable as possible.
She’d kick Xavier and his butt to kingdom come once they were away from here. Except...
She edged forward to listen more closely.
‘I’m going to have to draw again.’ That was her grandmother’s voice, thick with petulance.
‘You just want all the tiles to yourself. I’m on to your tricks.’
Aggie wheezed out a laugh.
Wynne blinked. Xavier was playing dominoes with Aggie?
‘I used to be good at this game. I used to be very beautiful too.’
‘You’re still very beautiful. And, while you might be good, I might be even better.’
Aggie chortled. ‘Listen to him! Typical man.’
Wynne’s eyes filled. She recognised that voice—and that spirit. She saw so few flashes of it these days...and every single one of them was precious.
Blinking hard, she pulled in a breath and made herself enter the room. Aggie sat up in bed, dwarfed by all her pillows, while Xavier sat at the foot of the bed. The meal table on its castor wheels stood between them, spread with dominoes. Xavier glanced around and—the devil—didn’t even have the grace to look uncomfortable. The compassion in his eyes made her want to sob.
‘Your grandmother has been wiping the floor with me at dominoes.’
‘Glad to see you haven’t lost it, Nanna.’
She kissed Aggie’s cheek and settled on the other side of the bed from Xavier, their shoulders momentarily brushing. It sent a jolt of heat through her that had her sucking in a breath and wishing she’d chosen the chair instead. Except the chair was on Xavier’s side of the bed, his knee almost touching it, and it seemed too close, too familiar—too dangerous—to seat herself there. Besides, she had no intention of giving him such a height advantage over her.
She pulled a cellophane bag tied with red ribbon from her purse. ‘Carmen sent you a packet of those fancy-schmancy marshmallows you love so much from that little place up the coast.’
Aggie cradled the packet reverently before loosening the ribbon and sticking her hand in. She pulled forth a sticky concoction and popped it straight in her mouth.
Her grandmother might occasionally be unsteady on her feet, but she could still open a bag of sweets quicker than anyone Wynne knew.
Xavier’s lips twitched as he watched Aggie. ‘Good?’
Aggie crushed the bag to her chest. ‘Get your own!’
Her smile had turned to a glare of suspicion.
Wynne glanced at her watch. It was nearly six in the evening. ‘Sundowning’ was what the staff called it. She didn’t want Xavier to witness this. So far he’d obviously been polite, even kind to Aggie. The older woman didn’t deserve his scorn and condemnation. She didn’t deserve him to see her at her worst.
Wynne turned to him, doing her best to control the pounding of her heart. ‘I know you’re a busy man, Xavier. Please don’t let us hold you up any longer.’
He pursed his lips and she held her breath. She was almost certain that he was about to nod and make his goodbyes when a marshmallow hit Wynne in the ear.
Xavier’s head rocked back.
Perfect.
‘Don’t you try and chase my suitors away, you hussy!’
She couldn’t look at him then, her stomach curdling at the picture that she and Aggie must make. She plucked the marshmallow from her hair and dropped it to the table before sliding the table out of her grandmother’s reach. She didn’t want to give the older woman the chance to send it hurtling on its castors at her or Xavier.
‘You’re right, Nanna. That was a little clumsy of me.’
She prayed her soothing tone would appease Aggie.
‘When is Carmen coming to visit? When is she going to take me home?’
Carmen? Wynne knew that Aggie had simply plucked the first name she could recall from the air, without rhyme or reason, but it still jolted her. And she still couldn’t look at Xavier. She couldn’t bear to see what his face would reveal—his pity...and perhaps his triumph.
‘Carmen is in Sydney at the moment, with her little grandson.’
‘You tell her to return right now!’
‘I’ll pass on the message.’
‘Get me my phone. I’ll call her. She’ll listen to me. You’re—’
‘Lorenzo sends his love,’ Xavier suddenly broke in.
Aggie stopped her tirade in mid-sentence, her mouthing hanging slightly open. ‘Lorenzo?’
Xavier nodded.
‘What did he say?’
‘He asked me to give you these.’ He pulled out a playing card—the Queen of Hearts—from his pocket, and a shiny penny piece. ‘He wants to buy the motel back.’
Aggie took the card and pressed it to her chest. ‘Really?’
Xavier crossed his heart.
‘Can I see him?’
Xavier hesitated. ‘He’s a little poorly at the moment, which is why he couldn’t come himself.’
She stared at the playing card, at the shiny penny, and then she kissed them, tears running down her cheeks. ‘He was so angry with me...but this means he’s forgiven me.’
‘Forgiven you?’
It was Wynne who asked the question. Her heart pounded as she waited for her grandmother to answer.
‘I wanted him to stand up to his family and stay here with me. I tried to force his hand. So I won the motel...’ She tossed her head. ‘He accused me of stealing from him when I never did! But...I let him think it.’
Wynne’s eyes filled. ‘Oh, Nanna.’
‘I told him when he came to his senses he could buy the motel back with a penny...and an apology.’
Her gaze, sharp and momentarily lucid, fixed on Xavier. ‘You look like him.’
Xavier swallowed and nodded. ‘He told me how beautiful you were. I had to come and see for myself.’ He lifted her grandmother’s hand to his lips. ‘And now I know he wasn’t exaggerating.’
Her grandmother chuckled. ‘You, sir, are an outrageous flirt.’
‘So are you,’ Xavier shot back, making the older woman cackle with laughter.
CHAPTER NINE
A NURSE TRIPPED into the room with a cheery, ‘It’s time to take your medication now, Ms Stephens.’ And the Aggie Wynne knew and loved disappeared again.
Aggie grabbed Xavier’s hand. ‘They’re trying to kill me. So’s she.’ She pointed a finger at Wynne.
‘Now, now...’ The nurse tut-tutted. ‘We’ll have none of that.’
Aggie’s distress tore at Wynne. She leapt forward and took the older woman’s hand. ‘Oh, Nanna. I’ll stay until—’
Aggie reefed her hand away. ‘You’re a wicked, bad girl. You call me Nanna, but you’ve left me in this place to rot!’
A torrent of invective followed.
A second nurse came into the room and ushered Wynne and Xavier out. ‘Leave her to us now. We’ll make her comfortable.’
Wynne couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat. She just nodded and set off down the corridor. Xavier kept pace beside her. She wished him a million miles away. And yet at the same time she had to fight
the temptation to press her face into his shoulder and draw comfort from his solid strength.
Once outside, he reached for her hand, but she twisted away. ‘Don’t even think about it!’
‘Wynne, I—’
‘You should be ashamed of yourself!’
And yet he had made Aggie laugh. For a short time he’d cajoled the old Aggie out from beneath the confusion that bedevilled her.
‘I am.’
His sober admission annihilated her outrage. She stumbled across to a bench and collapsed onto it. From here there was a view of the Gold Coast hinterland, but darkness had started to fall and all she could see were house lights as they came on.
He took the seat beside her. ‘Go away, Xavier.’
‘I do not wish to leave you when you are so upset.’
‘I don’t want you thinking dreadful things about Aggie, but we don’t always get what we want.’
He reached out again and this time took her hand. She should shake it off. Instead she found her fingers curling around his.
She turned to him. ‘I know you’ve been outraged on Lorenzo’s behalf, but to hunt down an eighty-eight-year-old woman to taunt her with something that happened fifty-five years ago—it’s wrong.’
He glanced down at their linked hands. ‘I didn’t go to taunt her, Wynne. I promised Lorenzo I would deliver his message. I promised to put that card and the penny into her hands.’ He shook his head. ‘I got everything wrong. She loved him.’
Silently she acknowledged that Xavier wasn’t guilty of the cruelty she’d accused him of. She’d misjudged him. His grief and his anger had made her suspicious—and she refused to feel guilty about that—but Xavier hid a kind heart behind that steely façade.
She sagged back against the bench. She’d misjudged him about the staff. And now it appeared she’d misjudged his motives towards Aggie.
‘But, even though my motives were not unkind, I realised the mistake of turning up to see Aggie unannounced the moment I walked into her room. What right did I think I had to rake up a fifty-five-year-old chapter in her life?’
Even in the dim light she could see the self-reproach that raked him.
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