by James, Dana
'Adjourned until later today,' came the succinct reply. 'You must admit that discussion of legal technicalities in business funding would have been something of an anticlimax after such an outburst.'
'But how… I mean… Derek—what did you do?'
Miguel raked his black hair once more and pushed one hand into his trouser pocket. 'I? Nothing. But my colleagues did not think it advisable for him to leave. In restraining him they were a little—shall we say—forceful? Apparently— I did not see it, being somewhat preoccupied—as he was persuaded to lie down, he hit his head on the
corner of the boardroom table. He is fortunate to have such a thick skull.'
Cass shivered and had to bite her lip to restrain the hysterical laughter that bubbled inside her.
Miguel had recounted the event without any visible emotion yet Cass could imagine only too clearly the horrifying reality: Derek ranting and raving, struggling wildly as Miguel's shocked colleagues tried to prevent further violence, Miguel lying dazed and bloody, his reputation called into question, and the inevitable question leaping into the mind of every lawyer, financier and business executive present—was it true?
As her hands flew to her mouth, he went on calmly, 'Don Ricardo and Senor Castellas wanted to call the police, but I dissuaded them. It was galling enough to admit the man was a guest in my house and therefore, in theory at least, under my protection. However, even they conceded that takeovers attract enough problems without adding unnecessary complications.'
'What did you do?' Cass croaked.
'Don Ricardo's Mercedes has tinted windows, so he took Prentice and me to the hospital. Don Diego went to meet his wife and Teresa and they returned to their villa for the night. Prentice was kept in overnight for observation.'
'And what about you?' Cass could not keep the anxiety out of her voice. 'Where did you go?'
He gazed down at her, his eyes glittering. 'I had a blinding headache, a bloodstained suit and a need for solitude. After phoning you, I booked into the Hilton for the night.'
'Oh, Miguel,' she choked, 'I—' She took a step towards him, caught herself and turned quickly away. To say she was sorry would be an insult in its inadequacy.
'Cassandra?' She tensed at the note of strain in his voice. 'One thing you have not told me. Is that also a lie?'
She stood rigid, unmoving, not knowing what to say. To admit there was a kernel of truth, that meeting him had turned her whole life upside down and kindled within her a kaleidoscope of emotions and feelings such as she had never dreamed of was impossible. Not only would it be impertinent and embarrassing, but as there was no chance of her feelings ever being reciprocated, she would simply be inviting even greater pain. She had to lie to him for both their sakes. Yet the words would not come. 'Cassandra,' his voice was rough-edged, terse,
'answer me.'
Keeping her back to him, she swallowed the great lump in her throat. 'You are betrothed, Miguel,' with her eyes tight shut she forced the quiver out of her voice. 'Derek should have realised that under those circumstances the idea of… anything between us is… unthinkable.' Her head was leaden and her eyes felt hot and gritty.
The silence went on and on. Then softly, thoughtfully, he murmured, 'I see.' After another pause she heard his footsteps approaching and as she swung round, he was beside her, leaning across the desk. Riffling through various papers he selected several and taped them together neatly. 'This weekend is the fiesta of San Miguel,' he said
conversationally. 'San Miguel is my birthplace and I am named for the saint. It is traditional for our family to return there to celebrate the festival. This year my parents will not be able to attend, so it is even more important that I go.'
'Of course.' Cass gave him a bright smile. 'I am more grateful than I can possibly say for all you have done, showing me the gems, the cutting rooms, well, everything. And for your generous hospitality—'
'Querida,' he interrupted gently with a quizzical expression, 'why this little speech, delightful though it is?'
Her spine tingled at his use of the endearment. On Teresa's lips it sounded possessive, triumphant. Cass had never heard Miguel use it when speaking to his fiancée, yet he said it to her. She deliberately smothered the glimmer of hope and shifted awkwardly. 'If you are going away then naturally—'
'You will come too.'
She stared at him, stunned.
'It was part of your arrangement with my father, was it not?'
Cass shook her head. 'No. He simply suggested that if the possibility of seeing a fiesta arose, then I should take it.'
'Well.' Miguel spread his hands. 'It has and you shall.'
Surely he could see it wasn't that simple? 'I don't think—' she began.
'Enough. Always you are arguing with me.' His imperious tone froze her for a moment. But after an instant's shocked silence Cass's spirit was just about
to reassert itself when he tossed the papers on to the desk and, clasping both her hands in his, held them against his chest. 'You want to go?' There was a quality in his intent gaze that sent a flood of warmth through her.
'It isn't—' She got no further as he covered her mouth with his fingertips.
'Do you want to go?' he repeated insistently. Cass gave up. 'Do you need to ask?'
'Then it is settled.' He paused, tracing the outline of her face and then very gently he rubbed the back of his forefinger along the underside of her jaw. 'I will make it a very special time for you,' his voice was deep and vibrant, 'a time to remember always.'
Cass's heart turned over and she was suffused with a longing that was painful in its intensity. Then, suddenly, she was afraid, recalling Derek's taunt that Miguel would take advantage of any encouragement she might show him, and just as quickly discard her. While her body yearned for the solace only he could offer, she knew in her own heart that if she surrendered to her own desires and afterwards he rejected her, she would be utterly destroyed. She could not make love with him lightly and for him there could be no other way.
Sensing her withdrawal, he lifted one of her hands and laid it against his cheek. 'Relax, querida,' he ordered softly. 'You have nothing to fear.' He brought her hand to his mouth, but instead of kissing it, he bit her knuckle with infinite gentleness, sending a shaft of exquisite pleasure through her. 'Have you not branded me a man of honour?' His voice held several strange inflections
that Cass's overworked brain could not interpret. Tension flickered between them like lightning before a summer storm. Beneath the material of his suit Cass could feel the rhythmic pounding of Miguel's heart. Unable to tear her eyes from his, she saw in their dark depths a naked, leaping flame of desire. Her breath caught in her throat as a fine trembling began deep inside her.
With a strangled oath forced between gritted teeth, Miguel, dropped her hand and turned away, raking an unsteady hand through his hair, then rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping his face averted. 'Benito is going to our mines today. I think it would be a good idea if you went with him. That was part of your plan and it will get you out of the house for several hours.'
Cass realised at once it was for the best.
'Thank you,' she whispered, still finding it hard to breathe.
'I have to fly to Texas,' he began, 'so—'
'Texas?' Cass repeated in surprise. Then she remembered. 'Your father—has something happened?' she asked with swift concern.
Miguel's profile was bleak. 'I telephoned the Institute last night. The operation has been brought forward to this afternoon. I must be with my mother until it is over and we know—the outcome. It is unlikely I will get back before dinner, but do not worry.' He glanced over his shoulder at her. 'You will face no unpleasantness. I will ensure that Teresa curbs her tongue.' A cynical smile lifted one corner of his mouth. 'As she intends that Prentice shall accompany us to San Miguel, I foresee no
problems.'
Cass gazed at him in perplexity. No problems? After all that had happened? Certainly Teresa
would toe the line if it meant she would get what she wanted, but what did she want? And what about Derek? What would he do now?
As if reading her thoughts Miguel's eyes narrowed. 'Prentice is not a complete fool. His pride has been dented but, like the jackal, he has a strong sense of self-preservation. It will be made crystal clear that if he troubles you in any way or threatens your job, he will be thrown off the Ibarra estates. I shall also make sure he finds it impossible to buy gems, cut or uncut, from any source whatsoever in Mexico.' His tone was merciless, his expression glacial, and Cass knew that on no account could she allow Miguel to discover she had already lost her job. She had no doubt he would carry out his threat. But it would be Matthew Prentice, Derek's father, who would be hurt most, and she refused to be the cause. Matthew had enough burdens to bear without seeing the business he had built up from nothing to a small but internationally renowned company dragged through the mud. What happened when Derek took over was Derek's concern, but right now Matthew was still in charge and for as long as he remained so she would do nothing to damage him or the name of the company. She sighed sadly. Derek was doing that all by himself.
Miguel picked up his papers and moved so that the desk was between them. 'Now please go,' he was brusque. 'We leave in twenty minutes.' He did not look up.
Cass fled to her room. After repairing her make- up, aware even as she applied lipstick and blusher that she was trying to create a facade behind which to hide, she twisted her tumbling hair into a knot and pinned it on top of her head. Sketchbook, pencils, notepad, purse were tossed into the capacious shoulder bag she always used on research expeditions.
The routine movements required little concentration and left her free to range back over those minutes spent with Miguel. Such precious minutes.
She tried desperately to banish the longing. For herself and Miguel there could be nothing. Yet that was a lie. It existed. It was there, flaring white-hot between them. But it was unspoken and must remain so. Its depths would never be plumbed, its heights never scaled. It was a glow in which she warmed herself and a conflagration which could devour her.
She had waited all her life to fall in love, believing it was something that happened gently and gradually over weeks and months of growing closeness.
Nothing in her imagination had prepared her for this maelstrom of torture and ecstasy. Was it love that had blown her life apart with all the subtlety and finesse of a bomb? Could there be anything more foolish than to fall in love with a man not free to love her?
Anguish pierced her with jagged blades. Pressing her lips tightly together to stop their quivering, she picked up her bag and a scarf and, with a final
glance around, opened the door, catching her breath as she almost collided with Miguel.
He had changed his suit for one of dove-grey. His pale pink shirt and maroon striped tie emphasised the bronze tone of his skin and the blackness of his hair. Cass's heart contracted at the sight of him.
'Do you want coffee before we go?' he asked as they went downstairs.
'No, thanks.' She couldn't have swallowed a thing.
'Right. Go on out to the chopper. I'll pick up my briefcase and we'll be on our way.' Though he did not smile, his eyes were warm. 'Consuelo,' he shouted, moving towards the study. The housekeeper appeared almost at once. 'Tell Senor Morelos I'll arrange a charter helicopter to pick him up in about an hour.'
Cass enjoyed every minute of the all-too-brief journey. She had never imagined using helicopters with the same casualness as taxis, yet it clearly saved Miguel an enormous amount of time.
They both donned sunglasses and Miguel put headphones over her ears and helped her adjust the tiny microphone so that they could talk to one another while he listened for air traffic information.
Most of the time she looked out of the windows, enjoying the sound of his voice as he indicated in the far distance the ice-clad peak of the extinct volcano, Popocatapetl, the smoking mountain. She followed his pointing finger and saw an eagle, wingtips upcurving as it soared, spiralling slowly up into the cloudless sapphire sky. The harsh sunlight
was almost too bright to bear despite her glasses, and above the barren hills the air shimmered.
Benito greeted her with shy pleasure and seemed delighted when Miguel announced she would accompany him to the mines. He did not ask where Derek was and Cass guessed he was not sorry she was alone.
'Benito, do you notice something strange?' Miguel eyed Cass thoughtfully. 'Miss Elliott designs beautiful jewellery, yet wears none.'
'Not so strange,' Cass smiled. 'I cannot afford to buy most of what I make. But I do have some earrings of my own design, and a dress ring.'
'Why you no wear them?' Benito asked, openly curious. 'My wife she love rings. She wear on every finger.'
'Force of habit, I suppose,' Cass shrugged. 'It's not safe when I'm working with stones and metals, and when I'm designing they distract me.'
'You have opals?' Benito asked.
'No.' With a pang Cass remembered the magnificent fire opal Miguel had shown her. What a fabulous ring that would make. With an inward sigh she pushed the thought away. It was not for sale, and if it were she would probably not be able to afford it, especially now that she was without a regular job.
'Then you must design one, very special, for reminding of your visit to us,' Benito decided, nodding vigorously.
Cass merely smiled.
'As a matter of interest,' Miguel said casually over his shoulder as they entered his office,
'assuming you are not working to a commission, how do you decide what size to make your rings?'
Cass watched him unlock a wall safe concealed by a picture. Opening the small but very thick door, he withdrew several wads of dollar bills and handed them to Benito, who stacked them neatly in a stiff, black briefcase.
'Well, provided the shank is reasonably wide I make them to an L, my own size, so that I can try them for balance and comfort. They can easily be enlarged if necessary. May I ask what the money is for?'
'Wages for the men.' He turned to Benito. 'Jose and Martinez will shadow you today.' He glanced at his watch. 'You had better get going. Enjoy your day, Miss Elliott.' He inclined his head politely, but his eyes gleamed with a warm intimacy that brought the blood surging to her cheeks.
'Thank you, Senor Ibarra,' she returned with equal politeness. Then, hesitantly, she added, 'I hope all goes well with your father. Waiting will be the hardest part, but I'm sure your presence will comfort your mother enormously.'
Surprise flickered briefly across his face, and he stared hard at her for a long moment. 'Thank you,' he said gravely and seemed about to add something but deciding against it, he merely nodded once more.
They reached the opal mine in just under an hour. The car's air conditioning made the journey more comfortable than it would otherwise have been. Benito was a fast but expert driver and Cass was happy to listen to him talk as they bounced over
the winding track through the eastern hills. A trail of thick, yellow-brown dust hung in the air to mark their passage.
Carrying one of the safety helmets Benito had taken from the back of the car, Cass followed him into a compound patrolled by two swarthy, roughly dressed men carrying shotguns. However, their unfriendly scowls were banished by beaming grins as Benito introduced her.
While he dealt with the wages, Cass wandered around the compound, looking at the little group of sheds, the barbed-wire fencing and the heavy gate with its chains and padlock.
When Benito emerged from re-locking the case in the car, she followed him through a narrow fissure in the hillside.
They picked their way carefully down a narrow tunnel, the light from their torches bouncing off the purplish-brown rock. The tunnel curved round and Cass could hear the sound of voices and the clink of hammers.
Benito called out in Spanish. Someone answered and a few moments later they came upon four men.
Stripped to the waist, their faces and bodies streaked with dust a
nd sweat, they grinned appreciatively at Cass, their teeth flashing white in the light of lamps hanging from nails hammered into the rock face.
Cass shone her torch around while Benito talked to the men and shuffled beneath a lot of questions and banter in a dialect far too quick and accented for her to understand. Between them and the men stood an old and dented wheelbarrow lined with
coarse sacking. More sacks lay in a heap on the tunnel floor. Curious to see what was in the barrow, Cass took a step forward. Her foot turned on a rut in the floor and she bumped against the wall. The beam of her torch lit up the tunnel roof. Cass gasped aloud. Like a million rainbows the whole roof blazed with incandescence. Pinpoints of orange and crimson dazzled amid streaks of emerald green and electric blue.
'Is fantastic, no?' Benito was grinning like a Cheshire cat, relishing Cass's stunned amazement.
'Oh, it's…it's…beautiful,' she breathed, gazing awestruck at the layer of opal that reached almost to both sides of the tunnel roof.
As they returned to the car Benito told her how the men had discovered the layer, had tunnelled along beneath it, and were now carefully breaking it away from the mother rock. 'Is very high grade. Our cutters will make many, many beautiful gems.'
They stopped for lunch in a small town that reminded Cass of a cowboy movie set. A huddle of clapboard buildings including a general store and a saloon lined the dusty main street, and a small white church stood in a square at one end. The peasants going about their business seemed unsurprised to see them. When Cass queried this Benito explained that the town was a tourist attraction, having been used as a background for several classic westerns.
The food they were served in the little cantina was delicious. Instead of pulque, a kind of fermented liquor made from Maguey, Cass drank juice. Cool and delicious, it slid down her parched throat, like nectar and Benito told her it came from