‘Yes. Though nobody is irreplaceable. My departure created yet more work for those who had no need to expand their duties. Sometimes Doña Luisa forgets how busy I am, but in this case she was right to send me instead of anyone else.’
So, he hadn’t chosen to retrieve Sofia. She could see how much he cared for his grandmother and she wasn’t surprised he had gone. She’d already decided he wasn’t the ogre Sofia proclaimed so loudly.
‘I am constantly looking for the right staff for the hospice.’ He turned in his seat to give her his full attention. ‘Why are you wasting time shuttling people in aircraft between countries? Your kindness would fit well in my field.’
His comment warmed her. And confused her. How had he come to that conclusion in their short acquaintance? Yes, she wanted to hear more about his work; she wanted to hear anything except that there was no future for them. She needed to banish those ridiculous thoughts.
‘As you said, there is a similarity between the care of those at the beginning and the end of life. It is interesting you say that because I had thought about doing oncology nursing when I first moved from midwifery.’
‘Sí. I could imagine you there.’ He tilted his head to study her. ‘I could see you as one who stands at the gate and comforts those going and those who must bid them goodbye.’
‘I’ve had no experience with that.’
‘I’m not sure if you understand my hospice. It is not only for the old and infirm. It is for all ages, all terminal souls, from infant to child to adult to elder as they leave their families. It’s about simple beauty and peaceful surroundings to pass from this world into the next.’
She frowned. Did he mean euthanasia? Her face must have registered the question.
‘Not like a certain clinic in Switzerland but a place of quiet, comfort and solace for nature to take its course. With excellent support. But I do need someone who could impart the secrets of the midwife to those who think efficiency is the same thing.’
There was a thread of frustration in his voice. ‘Someone who can fulfil the needs of others and work to make that happen without cold competence and too little understanding. Most of my staff are wonderful but some need more guidance in compassion.’
The car pulled up in front of a large white building with tall standard roses in ceramic pots that stood like soldiers on both sides of the path to make a floral corridor. Marble steps, as well as a ramp to the side, led to the oval doorway and the automatic doors. A discreet sign read ‘Hospicio Luisa’. Named after his grandmother, he’d said. Of course.
Inside the doors, warm brown mosaics on the floor and artistic silver branches adorned the eggshell-blue walls like a tree growing from the doorway and curving away on the left towards some elevators.
A glowing parquetry desk with soft pale blue leather chairs sat in front in welcome and to the right a fountain tinkled beside two stunning life-size statues of angels. Flowers scented the air and created a foyer less like a medical facility and more like an elegant apartment block lobby for the rich and famous.
The woman at the desk smiled and inclined her head respectfully at Felipe. She looked curiously at Cleo.
‘Good morning, Elisheba,’ he said. ‘Please ask the nursing supervisor on duty to meet me in Raymond’s apartment.’
The woman nodded. ‘Sí, Don Felipe.’ Her respect was coloured by her warmth towards him and Cleo could see her delight in seeing him. Curiouser and curiouser. A different side again to this multifaceted man, and he intrigued her even more. She had seen the Spanish lover, the autocratic head of the family, the caring grandson and now the respected professional doctor.
Felipe directed her to a pair of white elevators and they rose to the third floor.
When they came out again there was more warm brown flooring, pale green walls of early summer, and flowers.
Every time they passed staff the response was the same delight as the woman from downstairs had shown. Felipe knew all their first names and enquired occasionally about family members. From the warmth of those who hailed him, he was a much-admired and looked-up-to doctor.
Unlike the rich and famous Felipe, this person she could relate to. She thought of the conversation in the car on the way here. There was definitely something they had in common. A passion for their work in helping others.
She stood beside him as they passed many rooms, all different pastel colours with plush chairs and large windows, and he paused frequently to share a particular vantage point, or luxury fitting, or pleasing colour scheme with her, and she saw and couldn’t help but appreciate his fierce dedication and passion for his hospice.
At the end of the long corridor he knocked on a partially closed door.
A name on the door read, ‘Don Raymond Ruiz’. The faint voice of a man bade them enter.
Two sides of the room held large windows that overlooked the cityscape and on the third wall hung a glorious print of a rainforest beside a door that she assumed led to the bathroom. In the corner was a small kitchenette and a bar fridge was tucked away.
The man in the bed looked gaunt and very pale, but of an age with Felipe, terminally ill well before his time. Yet despite his obvious frailty, his eyes danced with amusement and interest at seeing Felipe with Cleo.
‘Who is this you have brought to meet me, my friend?’ The educated accent was similar to Felipe’s and his English as impeccable as her escort’s.
Felipe crossed the room and took the man’s skeletal hand in his. ‘Raymond. You summoned me.’ He smiled warmly at him. ‘This is Cleo Wren. A midwife and nurse from Australia, and companion to my cousin Sofia who has just returned from Sydney with her new babe.’
‘A pleasure to meet you, Cleo.’ He looked from one to the other and his eyes shone with mischief. Cleo liked him immediately. He certainly wasn’t awed by Felipe.
‘A pleasure to meet you, too, Don Raymond.’
‘Raymond.’
There was a knock at the door and a tall calm-faced woman around Cleo’s age came in. She nodded at Mr Ruiz. ‘Don Raymond. Don Felipe?’
‘Thank you for your call, Maya. This is Sister Cleo Wren from Australia. I would appreciate if you offer her a tour of our facility while I speak to Raymond.’
The woman smiled at Cleo. ‘With pleasure. We are very proud of the hospice.’ She turned to Felipe. ‘How long would you like us to be?’
Felipe glanced at his friend, who flashed ten fingers at him. ‘A quarter of an hour would be sufficient for a brief showing.’
He looked at Cleo. ‘I would like your opinions on the facility, please, Cleo.’
She nodded and went with her minder out the door, secretly delighted to have the chance to explore Felipe’s world and not intrude on what was obviously a private and important conversation.
* * *
By the time Cleo returned with Maya fifteen minutes later, she’d learned several things.
First, that Felipe was held in awe by the staff. When she’d questioned Maya on the reason it had come across as his determination to overcome all obstacles and his single-minded dedication to create this peaceful world for those at the end of their lives.
She’d also discovered that a lot of the capital expenditure had been donated by Felipe, but more importantly Felipe made himself available day and night for the patients and the staff. The relatives, he saw through the day.
As they traversed two more floors, the hospice itself continued to amaze and delight Cleo with the calm colours, soft furnishings and attention to tiny details, like curtains, bed lights and nurse call, which could be managed by voice technology or buttons by the bed.
Each room held a tiny kitchenette and the actual kitchen downstairs was available for the staff, visitors and, of course, the patients, and served delicious and nutritious snacks and meals twenty-four hours a day. All could be summoned by a push of the bell.
Towards the end of the tour Cleo couldn’t help asking a more direct question. ‘Is it very expensive for the patients?’
Maya laughed. ‘It depends. To spend your last days here would cost the same as the public hospital for those who cannot afford to pay, and is very, very expensive for those who can,’ Maya said with mischief. ‘The idea is to have both kinds of clientele in residence.’
‘And do you have enough staff?’
‘Sí. Almost. It is an excellent place to work but the interviews are thorough for those who wish to work here. We are looking for a certain type of person.’
Cleo guessed that was the royal ‘we’ and it was Felipe who was looking for a certain type of nurse and doctor. He’d said as much in the car on the way here.
Maya went on. ‘We have only a short time to care for these souls, but it is one of the most important times of their lives.’ Her sincerity was obvious, and Cleo nodded her head. It was how she felt about midwifery.
‘I totally agree. Thank you so much for showing me around.’
‘It is rare that I have the chance.’ The curiosity in the other woman’s eyes made Cleo smile but what could she say? His grandmother made me come? She didn’t think so.
When they arrived back at the room Felipe held Raymond’s shoulder with a firm grip as their gazes held. Felipe dropped his hand. ‘Goodbye, my friend.’
‘And you, Felipe,’ Raymond said. ‘Find happiness.’
Cleo hung back at the charged atmosphere and Maya looked sad for a moment as she observed the two men. She waited quietly until she had Felipe’s attention. ‘Is there anything else you wish me to do?’
‘Keep me updated.’ Felipe’s eyes were shadowed and Cleo wanted to take his arm and offer support. His friend was clearly dying, though apparently with a calmness and serenity Cleo had rarely seen.
‘Cleo?’ Raymond’s tired voice held amusement. She turned and smiled at him. He beckoned so she went across to the bed and leaned down. ‘Make my friend smile,’ he whispered.
Cleo nodded. Kissed the pale, dry cheek gently. Said very softly, so nobody else could hear, ‘Someone needs to not take him so seriously.’ But she had learned that others deeply appreciated Felipe Gonzales and now more than ever she wanted to know more about the man she could see. But then he would be so much harder to resist.
Raymond relaxed back in the bed and closed his eyes. But his lips curved in a smile. Cleo stepped away from the bed and found Felipe beside her. He took her arm. ‘We need to get back.’
Maya had gone, and when they left, the sleeping man was alone in the room. She wasn’t sure if it was a trick of light but there seemed to be sunshine playing on the path through the rainforest picture and the room held a golden glow.
* * *
When the car drew away from the hospice Felipe turned his face to the window. She touched his arm, the expression in his eyes showing for a moment his distress, but it shuttered as he looked her way.
‘What did you think of my clinic?’ He gestured back the way they’d come.
‘I thought it was beautiful. Perfect for the care of those who need comfort and tranquillity.’
‘Yes. It is satisfying to see the dream become a reality.’
‘Your staff are rightly very proud of the service offered. And of you.’
He waved his hand as if discounting that. His mouth tightened.
‘Don’t wave it away.’ She remembered his grandmother’s words. How she wanted him to take time for his own happiness. ‘They love you. You obviously deserve their respect and appreciation.’ When he didn’t answer she said, ‘I’m sorry that your friend Raymond is so unwell.’ She wanted to add, He’s far too young to die, but when was age a barrier to loss of life? ‘He told me to make you smile.’
He looked up. Shook his head. And his expression softened as he smiled. For a moment he wasn’t the far more reserved man she was seeing so much of in Spain.
‘Ah, there he is,’ she teased softly, suddenly desperate to do as Raymond had asked her. Felipe, the less austere Felipe, reacted to her tone, relaxing a fraction more, the smile still playing around his wicked mouth. She wondered which facet of this fascinating man was more real. The dancer, the doctor or the Don?
‘There is who, Cleo?’ His voice was low and sexy.
His eyes were dark, and dangerous, and he leaned her way. She was mad but she said it anyway. For the smile she’d promised, she told herself. ‘The flamenco dancer.’
His smile widened and he reached long fingers across and captured her hand in his. He already held her gaze. Drew her wrist slowly to his mouth until his lips bowed and he kissed her sensitive skin, making her shiver with the long, leisurely promise. ‘I could certainly show you that man.’
The car stopped. They’d arrived. Oh, my goodness, she thought, and with difficulty dragged her eyes away from his to look at the escape hatch.
* * *
When they arrived back at Doña Luisa’s house Cleo had to fight to clear the fog that particular version of Felipe had created in her mind. They had arrived just in time for the meal.
‘Come,’ Doña Luisa called out. ‘We go through for tapas.’
Tapas was a good thing. An excellent diversion from the swirl of emotion she’d been left with from the hospice. And most definitely from the volcanic reaction she’d unleashed in Felipe in the car.
That Felipe, Sofia’s cousin, wanted comfort, safety and peace for others, which was clear at the hospice named after his grandmother, Cleo had no doubt now that he wanted the best for his cousin, too.
She needed time to think, some distance between herself and Felipe, for her fluctuating emotions to settle down. She needed to concentrate on the job and not think so much about the powerful, seductive man beside her.
While they had been away rapport had been renewed between Sofia and Doña Luisa because the younger woman was smiling as she helped her grandmother to her feet. A pram, possibly one almost as old as their hostess, had appeared, and Isabella reposed quietly amidst its ancient splendour.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FELIPE LIFTED HIS hand towards the small of her back to usher her through to the dining room but she skipped ahead like a frightened doe. He allowed his hand to fall again and smiled. He’d liked that glimpse of a different Cleo. The one he’d met in the flamenco club and who had been markedly absent ever since they’d met again in Sofia’s hospital room.
She walked swiftly to increase the distance between them and though they entered the dining room together they moved apart like ripples on a pond. He turned to assist his grandmother into her chair.
Cleo went to stand beside Sofia.
His grandmother touched his hand and inclined her head. ‘You watch her. Always. I see your eyes.’ Said very quietly as she shot him a wicked grin. ‘I thought you didn’t like Australians?’
He frowned at her and lifted his head to see if Cleo had heard the word Australians. She was talking to Sofia and they were both admiring the pram.
‘Enough, Àvia, you tease me. She is help for Sofia.’
‘Is she? No attraction there?’ A quirk of white eyebrows. ‘There is nothing between you at all?’ She made a derisive sound. ‘I have eyes.’
He turned his shocked gaze to her, sincerely hoping she was talking about her own eyes and not others who might have been watching him in Australia. ‘You are mistaken.’
‘Me?’ She laughed and then coughed and turned pale enough to worry him. But slowly the colour crept back into her cheeks.
‘You are changed since you came back.’ Said a little breathlessly. ‘I will find out why.’ Short sentences. ‘Then.’ A breath. ‘We will discuss it.’ His grandmother composed herself into her chair and called to Sofia. Patted the seat beside her.
There was nothing to discuss. But his grandmother’s seating arrangements left him to sit next to Cleo. What was his àvia
playing at?
Thankfully the food arrived, so he could pretend to divert his attention to the array of small dishes that circled the middle of the table.
But his grandmother’s words swirled in his head. She could see his intense attraction to Cleo. Why would he be so surprised? His grandmother’s passion had always been watching others. Of course she’d seen. Next she’d be investigating Cleo from her deathbed.
This wasn’t good. He had no doubt Cleo would be unimpressed as well.
He looked across at his cousin. Another accurate observation by his grandmother. In this instance he was thankful she’d uncovered it and still felt guilty as hell that he’d allowed Sofia to slip unnoticed into a disaster. He should have checked on her himself as soon as his father had died.
And in an indirect way his grandmother’s meddling in her grandchildren’s lives had also brought him to having the woman he could not ignore beside him. A woman who had infiltrated his senses like the subtle scent she wore. Aware of every move of her arm. Every turn of her head. The way Raymond, and even Maya, had tacitly given a nod of approval for the woman he had brought with him to the hospice.
He saw all the good in Cleo, but he had to keep her at arm’s length for now because he had enough on his plate without starting a torrid affair with someone who was going to fly back to Australia in two weeks. And it would be torrid if their one night together was any indication.
There were several minutes of silence as delicacies were eaten, though throughout his meal his awareness increased that neither his grandmother nor Cleo was eating very much.
He turned to study Cleo’s plate and asked quietly, ‘Is the food not to your liking?’
‘It’s wonderful.’ A crease lay between her brows. ‘Though I’m afraid I don’t know what half of the things are.’
He pointed with his finger. ‘Green peppers.’
‘Not chillies, then. I’m so pleased. They smell amazing but I was afraid to be mistaken.’ She smiled and took one with the fork provided.
Second Chance in Barcelona Page 10