Under the Brazilian Sun

by Catherine George

  Katherine smiled bleakly. ‘Not easy when we live on different continents. Besides, he’ll probably forget all about me once he’s back on the ranch.’

  ‘As if!’ said Rachel scornfully. ‘I must look him up on the Net. I want to see this man for myself.’

  ‘I’ve got some photographs on my laptop. Boot it up if you like.’

  Rachel leapt to the desk to switch on the machine, and let out an inelegant whistle as the first shot came up. She turned the laptop screen towards Katherine.

  ‘Is this the house?’

  ‘Quinta das Montanhas, his holiday home in Portugal. The family home is on a ranch in Rio Grande do Sul, in Brazil. And that’s Roberto,’ said Katherine, her heart contracting as the next shot came up to show him smiling at her from the screen. ‘I had to persuade him to let me take the photograph.’

  Rachel eyed the image in silence for a moment, then turned to her. ‘He’s hot! And from the look in his eyes, Roberto’s pretty hot for you, too.’

  ‘We only met a few days ago.’

  ‘What difference does that make?’

  Katherine watched as Rachel slowly scrolled through the rest of the photographs, then, unable to bear looking at them any longer, asked her to switch the machine off.

  ‘You do realise,’ said Rachel, complying, ‘that your holiday snaps could be a nice little earner for me if I wrote a feature to go with them.’

  ‘Yes. But you won’t.’

  ‘Sadly, no.’ Rachel smacked her lips. ‘Pretty lad, your Roberto.’

  ‘He thinks his scar makes him ugly.’

  ‘Wrong! It’s hugely sexy. And those eyes smouldering as you snapped him! No wonder you fell for him. Who wouldn’t?’

  Katherine laughed for the first time, and Rachel nodded in approval.

  ‘That’s better. Alastair and Hugh are bringing food home, and I’ve laid the table for four upstairs.’ She held up a hand. ‘Don’t say no. You’ll sleep all the better afterwards.’

  Katherine actually wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. ‘Just for an hour. But before I scrub myself I’d better do some unpacking.’

  ‘Hurry up, then,’ said Rachel promptly. ‘See you upstairs about seven.’ She turned at the door. ‘Did you let the legal eagle know you were coming home today?’

  Katherine stared at her in dismay. ‘Oh, Lord, I for-got—I’ll text him now.’

  She was wielding a hairdryer when her doorbell rang later.

  ‘Welcome home!’ Andrew boomed through the intercom. ‘Let me in.’

  She released the lock and opened her sitting room door, standing back as Andrew strode in, brandishing a sheaf of flowers, sleek of hair, smartly dressed, and just slightly overweight. Or maybe that was just the contrast with Roberto. She stood still, bracing herself for an unpleasant few minutes.

  ‘Hello, there,’ he said, smiling, and waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Earth to Katherine.’

  ‘Hello, Andrew,’ she said without warmth. ‘I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. I’m getting ready to go out.’

  He frowned. ‘But surely you’ve just got home.’

  ‘I have.’

  He handed her the flowers. ‘I brought these as a peace offering.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She put them down on a table.

  He eyed her askance. ‘What the hell’s wrong with you, Katherine? You can’t be jet-lagged after a flight from Oporto!’

  ‘I’m just tired.’

  ‘So how come you’re going out?’

  ‘I’m not. I’m having supper upstairs.’

  ‘With the usual suspects, of course,’ he sneered, but hastily changed tack in response to her glare. ‘Katherine, if I was out of order before you went away, I’m sorry. But I feel I had every right to be annoyed when you took off the very day I had gala tickets for Glyndebourne.’

  ‘I disagree,’ she said coldly. ‘Your behaviour was unpleasantly immature, Andrew.’

  His light blue eyes opened wide in sudden fury. ‘Immature? Thats rich. If any one’s immature it’s you, Katherine. It’s time you left this student squat of yours and shared my house.’

  ‘This is no squat, it’s my family home. Besides, you just want me to share your bed,’ she retorted, and could have kicked herself when heat leapt in his eyes.

  ‘I’ll share yours, if you prefer!’

  She shook her head. ‘Not going to happen, Andrew.’

  His eyes turned ugly. ‘Oh, yes, it is.’ He seized her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly when she winced in distaste. ‘I’ve had it up to here with your teasing.’

  ‘Teasing?’ she hissed in outrage as his fingers bit into her flesh, then flushed in hot embarrassment as Alastair and Hugh burst into the room with Rachel close behind. Andrew dropped his hands, staring defiantly as both men, fit muscular six-footers, stood shoulder to shoulder to face him.

  ‘Did he hurt you, Katherine?’ asked Hugh in a deadly quiet voice.

  ‘Say the word and I’ll throw him out,’ ordered Alastair, his Scots accent more pronounced than usual.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ she said irritably, and turned to Andrew. ‘Time you were leaving, I think. It’s not the way I would have chosen to say goodbye, but goodbye it is. It would never have worked out for us.’

  He made a move towards her but stopped in his tracks at the look Alastair gave him. ‘All right, all right, hold your horses. Look, Katherine, I’m sorry if I hurt you. I apologise, abjectly. Will you forgive me?’

  ‘Yes.’ She managed a bleak little smile. ‘But it’s still goodbye, Andrew.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘MY GOD,’ said James Massey when Katherine arrived at the gallery the next day. ‘You look terrible. Not my flu, I hope!’

  ‘No. There was a welcome home party last night, so I got to bed a bit late. Are you recovered, James?’

  ‘Yes, thank God.’ He smiled warmly. ‘I owe you big time for stepping in for me, Katherine.’

  ‘I was only too glad to help. Now, where’s my young man?’

  Katherine’s heart gave a thump as she looked at the painting. Fully restored, the likeness to Roberto was unmistakable. ‘When are you sending it off?’

  ‘I’ll wait to hear from the client.’ James eyed her over his spectacles. ‘So how did you get on with Roberto Rocha de Sousa?’

  ‘Rather well,’ she said sedately. ‘He was very kind. So were the people who work for him.’

  ‘You’re not sorry I sent you to him, then,’ he said slyly.

  ‘No,’ said Katherine with perfect truth. ‘It was a very interesting experience.’

  A day back in routine was oddly comforting after the emotional highs and lows of the past week. Katherine immersed herself in work so completely James had to remind her it was time to go home. Panicking at the thought of missing Roberto’s call, she ran for the Underground, joined the crush of commuters on the train home and rushed into the house with just time enough to make some coffee while she waited for the all important phone call.

  But the phone remained silent. As the evening wore on with no word from Roberto Katherine’s emotions ranged from desperate disappointment to white-hot anger, which finally died into the cold ashes of bitter resignation. It was the oldest story in the book. After the accident, Roberto had been without female company and fate had sent her to him just when he needed a woman most. Probably any reasonably attractive woman would have done. But Katherine Lister had just happened to possess that certain something extra—insider knowledge of the subject that interested him most. Plus a response to his lovemaking that clenched her fists in fury at the thought of it. She’d even owned up to feelings for him! Though looking at it with the cold clarity of hindsight, she suspected that had been for her own sake as much as Roberto’s. After all, she had a reputation to uphold. Other people might fall into bed with changing partners with joyous abandon, cerebral feelings or not, but never the famously choosy Katherine Lister. Who now knew that choosy had been nothing to do with it. With others, up t
o and including Andrew Hastings, she just hadn’t been sufficiently attracted. Whereas one look at Roberto Rocha de Sousa had fired up the pilot light under her hormones, igniting a response she had never experienced before. And never would again.

  It was a long, long week. Katherine’s absorption in the work she loved passed the daytime hours at reasonable speed. But the evenings were bad. Rachel was the only one who knew just how bad. The weekend was bearable, courtesy of an invitation to Sunday lunch with Charlotte and Sam, where Katherine’s trip to Portugal was the main topic of conversation over the roast. But however empty the evenings during the following week, Katherine felt no regrets about giving Andrew his marching orders.

  ‘He said I was a tease,’ she told Rachel.

  ‘Because you said no?’

  ‘Apparently.’ Katherine scowled. ‘I should have said no to Roberto, too.’

  Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘You mean you actually… um…slept with him?’

  ‘Yes. Literally. I was the only one on the upper floor of the house, and after the threatening letter came he refused to let me sleep alone and unprotected up there. So Roberto shared my room. And my bed.’

  ‘To protect you. New approach!’

  ‘At the time I was very grateful. I didn’t fancy lying awake all night, afraid someone might climb through the window and mug me.’ Katherine shrugged. ‘It was no big deal.’

  Rachel gave her a troubled look. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘No, damn it, it’s not. For me it was a great big deal.’ Katherine’s eyes glittered coldly. ‘But obviously not for him. And that, Rachel Frears, is the last time I mention his name, I promise.’

  Two weeks to the day of Katherine’s return, the phone rang while she was picking at a solitary supper.

  ‘Katherine?’

  She stiffened. ‘Who is this?’ Though she knew very well.

  ‘Roberto. Roberto de Sousa,’ he added when she made no response.

  She rubbed a hand over the heart turning cartwheels at the first sound of his voice. ‘Why, hello. You got home safely, then.’

  ‘A week ago,’ he informed her.

  A week ago? ‘You sound tired.’

  ‘Just a little. Tell me, Katherine, how are you?’

  ‘I’m very well,’ she said untruthfully. ‘How are you? Did your leg stand up to the flight?’

  ‘No. Infelizmente, it gave me hell. When my father met me at the airport he insisted on taking me straight to the hospital, where work was done on it which much improved it, gracas a Deus.’

  ‘That’s good news. I’m glad for you.’

  ‘I stayed at the hospital for treatment for a while. I did not ring you while I was in the hospital because I am well known there, you understand, and I was never alone. There was much to say to you that could not be overheard. So. Escuta—listen, Katherine.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘I had much time to think in the hospital, even more now I am back at Estancia Grande. You know that when Luis died it was my intention to stay at the Estancia only until I could leave to resume my career. But the crash changed that.’

  ‘And now you’re resigned to knuckling down to life on the Estancia?’

  ‘Exatamente—as I always intended to one day. My father has bought my mother an apartamento in Porto Alegre, so that once I am fit enough to take over from him, they can spend time together in the city occasionally.’

  ‘How do you feel about that?’

  ‘I am glad for my parents, but I will be lonely here without them. I miss you, Katherine,’ he added with sudden urgency. ‘Have you missed me?’

  ‘I wondered why you hadn’t rung,’ she admitted, her mouth twisting at the understatement.

  ‘You thought I no longer cared?’

  ‘You never said you did care, Roberto.’

  ‘Como?’ he said, amazed. ‘You did not hear the things I said as we made love?’

  ‘They weren’t in English so I assumed they were just the usual things men say.’

  ‘They were not,’ he said hotly, and paused for a moment. ‘You said you had feelings for me. Were they just these usual things, also?’

  ‘Whatever they were, they changed when I didn’t hear from you.’

  ‘You thought that once we parted I forgot you?’ he demanded.

  ‘Something like that, yes.’

  ‘How could you think such a thing? I have never felt such rapture in a woman’s arms before, Katherine.’

  ‘That’s hard to believe when you subject me to a fortnight’s silence before informing me of the fact,’ she snapped, suddenly so angry she wanted to hit something. Preferably Roberto de Sousa, bad leg or not.

  ‘You are angry with me, querida,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘So you still care a little, yes?’

  She took in a deep breath. ‘Why didn’t you get in touch?’

  ‘I was…not well for some time,’ he admitted, so reluctantly Katherine smiled a little. Roberto the gaucho obviously hated to confess to weakness. ‘I wished to feel better before I spoke to you. Also, I have had much to think about before I talked to you.’

  ‘So talk.’

  ‘You sound like Doutora, not my Katherine.’

  ‘Probably because I’m not your Katherine!’

  ‘You have gone back to your lover?’ he demanded.

  For a moment she was tempted to say yes. ‘No,’ she said shortly.

  ‘Por que? Why, Katherine?’

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘Because you love me!’

  ‘Because I didn’t want to leave my house to live in his.’

  ‘You must leave it one day, when you marry,’ he said, surprising her.

  ‘Not necessarily. The lucky man could just live here with me.’

  ‘You would insist on that?’

  ‘Probably. But since I’m not about to marry anyone, the question doesn’t arise. The painting’s ready, by the way,’ she added, to change the subject.

  ‘That is good…momento.’ He broke off to speak to someone in the background. ‘Forgive me, I must go, Katherine. I will ring you tomorrow. Is this time of day good for you?’

  ‘Yes, but not tomorrow,’ pride forced her to say.

  ‘Then I will ring the next day. Ate logo, Katherine.’

  ‘Goodbye,’ she said politely.

  She spent the rest of the evening alternately elated because Roberto had rung at last, and furious because she’d postponed another call for an entire day, just to save face. To pass the time the following evening, she did some late night grocery shopping before going home, then ground her teeth in frustration when she got back to a message on her phone from Roberto.

  ‘I wanted to speak to you before you went out, Katherine. I shall ring again tomorrow. Dorme bem.’

  Rather to her surprise, Katherine did sleep well and got to work earlier than usual so she could leave on time with a clear conscience. She was determined to be at home early enough to sit calmly with a sandwich and a cup of coffee when the phone rang, which it did, prompt to the minute.

  ‘Katherine?’

  ‘Yes, Roberto.’

  ‘Otimo, I do not like speaking to a machine.’

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t be at home last night, so why did you ring?’

  ‘To hear your voice, Katherine. And I did, but only on the message on your telephone. You have had a busy day?’

  ‘Yes. I think I’ve found something interesting for James to follow up, a possible sketch by Etty. Have you heard of him?’

  ‘No. Tell me about him. What is he famous for?’

  ‘Nudes,’ she said reluctantly.

  Roberto cleared his throat audibly. ‘I will look him up. But no woman he has painted could be more beautiful than you, Katherine.’

  ‘How kind of you to say so,’ she said primly.

  He laughed softly. ‘That was Dr Lister speaking, nao e?’

  ‘And, still speaking as Dr Lister, shall I tell James to ship the painting right away?’

  ‘
Yes, Katherine. Then it will arrive in good time for my parents’ wedding anniversary at Christmas. I shall also give them the unknown young lady in white to make the pair.’

  So his parents were the lucky recipients. ‘I’ll tell the shippers to take extra care,’ she promised. ‘How many years have your parents been married?’

  ‘Thirty-five, Katherine—a triumph compared to my record! I shall arrange a festa to celebrate such an achievement, with all our friends and neighbours invited to a traditional churrasco.’

  ‘Sounds like fun,’ she said, feeling wistful.

  ‘How do you celebrate Christmas, Katherine?’

  ‘Very quietly.’ It was the time she missed her father most of all. ‘Beforehand, there’s a lot going on socially, but I spend the day itself with my aunt and her husband.’ And then return home in the evening to a house more than usually empty because Rachel, Alastair and Hugh would be with their families.

  ‘My mother is most interested in the lady who identified my painting,’ said Roberto. ‘Therefore, it would please her very much if you came to stay with us at Christmas.’

  Katherine’s eyes widened. ‘To Brazil?’

  ‘It is where I live,’ he said dryly. ‘Come to me and see how we gauchos live here in Rio Grande do Sul. Say yes, Katherine.’

  It was a tempting thought, but impossible, of course. ‘It’s good of you to invite me, but I can’t take any more time off, Roberto.’

  ‘If you could have this time, you would come?’

  ‘I suppose I might,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘You do not wish to see me again?’ he demanded. ‘I was just a…how do you say…a fling?’

  ‘I don’t do flings,’ she snapped.

  ‘Then come,’ he ordered. ‘I will give you time to think about it, then ring you tomorrow.’

  Katherine thought about it so much she had a restless night, unable to get round the fact that Roberto had taken two whole weeks to get in touch with her. Whatever treatment he’d had, or thinking he had to do, surely he could have just rung to say he’d arrived, if nothing else. But then, she reminded herself, she didn’t know Roberto de Sousa well enough to understand the workings of his mind.

  She learned a little more about those workings when she arrived at the gallery the next morning. James called her into his office to inform her that he’d received a request from Roberto de Sousa to allow Dr Lister two weeks holiday over Christmas to travel to Rio Grande do Sul. First class travel expenses would be provided.