Cleo’s hands had been disinfected thanks to the ambulance personnel, though her cream dress had marks that would not be so easily cleaned.
When the ambulance pulled away, a muttering Alba had bundled the remaining washcloths and towels into a black disposable bag and marched them straight to the rubbish bin. As they rode up together in the lift, Felipe saw Alba steal glances at Cleo as if she couldn’t decide if she were a good woman or a disaster waiting to happen.
His midwife had her eyes shut and a gentle smile on her face as she leaned back against the wall of the elevator. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her breasts and skimmed the vivid red marks on her dress and shook his head again.
Alba spoke tightly. ‘I will find her a gown to wear while I try to save that dress and she washes.’
Felipe considered her ire. Knew it wasn’t aimed at Cleo but against people who imposed on guests of his grandmother by bleeding on them.
Cleo opened her eyes. ‘Thank you.’
He recalled her speaking to Elena and realised she actually spoke his language quite well, and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed that before. There must be a story in that, too. It was surprising how badly he wanted to know all her stories. ‘We will return to my villa as soon as you’ve washed. Grandmother will understand.’
He watched her consider the marks on her dress and the spots of blood on her legs. ‘Perhaps that’s a good idea.’ Another rueful scan. ‘Before I touch anything or anyone.’
All would be forgiven, he thought, after such heroics, but held his peace. Maybe he was making too much of this. Her actions were, after all, those of any woman with her medical experience.
But he knew the changes inside him, the ones his grandmother had seen, had shifted yet again.
Had he always held himself back from meaningful relationships? Been cool and aloof until finally he had found someone who had broken through that shell and shaken him badly, like Cleo was shaking him to the core now?
He thought of the couple downstairs, their new baby arriving with such drama but, thankfully, safely. That had also shaken him.
He wasn’t like his own father, who’d had trouble connecting with any other human being. He was a good man, could be a good husband and—dared he think it?—could also be a good father one day...
The lift doors opened and Alba hustled Cleo away.
He took himself to the nearest bathroom to wash his own hands and ensure he was presentable before he returned to his grandmother, whom he knew would be avid for news.
He remained pensive.
His grandmother eyed him shrewdly. ‘You look shocked. Is the woman well?’
‘Mother and infant are well. You have had a baby born in your street.’
‘Not the first. Better than a stable, I imagine.’
‘Indeed.’ He smiled at his grandmother. ‘Does anything faze you?’
Old eyes twinkled. ‘The way you look at the midwife.’
‘Really.’ He could believe that. Little escaped his grandmother’s eye but now she’d see even more. He didn’t comment further but it was something he would have to think about soon. ‘Where is Sofia?’
‘She has gone to refresh the baby in the guest room.’
‘With your permission we will take our leave when she returns. Cleo has a need to change her clothes after her heroics downstairs.’
His grandmother sat back and raised her brows. ‘Her heroics? Aren’t you the doctor?’
He smiled. ‘The mother was giving birth, not undergoing chemotherapy. That’s never been my speciality.’
She waved a veined hand. ‘In my day, the doctor did everything.’ Then she leaned forward. ‘Are your emotions truly engaged with this woman?’
‘She is Sofia’s midwife,’ he said evasively.
‘That was not what I asked. Have you finally allowed someone to become close to you?’
Footsteps and the topic of their conversation appeared at the door just in time. ‘Ah, Cleo. Come in. I was just telling my grandmother how lucky we were to have you here for the birth.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CLEO STOPPED AT the door, aware of the raised tension in the room. She’d heard the word for midwife. And she looked a mess. Both occupants were immaculate as they waited for her to enter. She did, slowly, and stopped short of the chair where Doña Luisa sat.
‘We were fortunate everything turned out well for all involved.’ She looked at Doña Luisa. ‘My apologies for my appearance. Alba has been very kind to sponge my dress but I’m afraid...’ She trailed off.
Doña Luisa waved that away. ‘No need for apologies. Felipe has already been singing your praises.’ The older lady’s eyes were fixed on Cleo as if looking for something she couldn’t quite see.
Sofia returned then, pushing the pram and a sleeping baby, and if Cleo wasn’t mistaken it seemed Felipe was very happy at her arrival.
‘On that note we will take our leave to return another time,’ he said.
Doña Luisa raised her brows but she did look tired. ‘Send Sofia to me tomorrow. In the morning, and she may stay with me until siesta.’ She glanced at Felipe. ‘You and Cleo may return for dinner tomorrow night if I am well enough.’
There was something going on here that Cleo couldn’t grasp. Byplay she didn’t understand, and that seemed to include her, between grandmother and grandson that hadn’t been evident when they had first arrived. Had she caused that? She hoped not and kept quiet.
Sofia kissed her grandmother’s cheek and lifted the baby from the pram. Doña Luisa’s face softened as she glanced down at the sleeping infant.
She murmured, ‘She is beautiful, like her mother.’
Sofia smiled and said, ‘We will see you tomorrow.’
* * *
Going back in the car, Sofia seemed pensive. Finally she said quietly, ‘She is definitely dying?’
‘Yes.’ Felipe spoke softly as well, and his sadness underlay the single word. ‘But on her terms. She tells me her life has been well lived. And too long, apparently.’
‘Is there anything else you can do for her?’ Sofia wiped a tear from her cheek.
‘She is done with the treatment and now it is time to keep her comfortable. I watch her closely.’ Felipe gently touched his cousin’s hand.
Sofia lifted her chin. ‘I apologise for being difficult when you first found me. She said she asked you to come for me. That she was the one who found out about Terence taking my money.’
Felipe smiled gently at her and Cleo wanted to cheer for his kindness. ‘Sí. But if I had known the extent of his crimes, she would not have needed to ask me. I would have come anyway.’
‘I understand.’ She looked at Cleo. ‘Perhaps my cousin is not quite as horrid as his father was.’
Cleo felt the humour of the situation. And let her eyes travel over the two dark heads, and their identical stubborn chins. She said to both Sofia and Felipe, ‘I’m glad for you. If your family can help when somebody lets you down, that is better. And even less reason for me to be here if Sofia is going to be spending more time with her grandmother.’
Maybe she could get away earlier than two weeks, which would be a very sensible thing to do.
Sofia leaned forward and touched Cleo’s knee. ‘Do not think you can go yet.’ A fierce look at her cousin under black brows. ‘I don’t trust him completely.’ But it was said playfully.
‘Why not? What can he do? You have your own house.’
This time it was Felipe who laughed, out loud, until his shoulders shook. Sofia stared at her cousin in amazement. ‘I had no idea you could do that.’
‘Cousin. Please. Cleo will think I am always sour and serious.’
‘Imagine.’ Sofia rolled her eyes, her tone dry. ‘Have you seen him laugh, Cleo?’
Cleo’s heart squeezed. She had. They’d laughed quietly togethe
r as she lay in his arms, about some silly anecdote she’d told him about her work. Laughed as they’d showered together in her small bathroom. Laughed, standing at the window of her flat, at the antics of the seagulls, the only other creatures awake.
‘Now I have,’ she said with forced lightness, avoiding the tell, but her cheeks felt hot. Thankfully Isabella chose that moment to stir in the bassinet and Sofia was instantly distracted.
Felipe raised his brows at her pink cheeks and smiled at her until her cheeks heated even more. ‘Stop it,’ she mouthed.
But inside she warmed as well because some of the instant rapport they’d shared on Saturday night had returned since the birth on the street.
She turned her head quickly to look out the window before her red cheeks caused comment from Sofia, but there was still that full awareness of the man sitting next to her.
His thigh next to hers, though not touching. The warmth of his nearness, the powerful shifts of his body, the scent of his cologne, which she would never forget.
When the baby had settled and peace returned to the rear of the car, Felipe touched her shoulder.
She pulled her thoughts from how she could extricate herself from the mess she’d landed in and looked at him.
‘Will you plan an outing tomorrow, now that Sofia will be spending time with her grandmother?’
She was struggling with this shift between them. She didn’t know if she had the headspace for tomorrow right now.
‘Perhaps. We will see how Isabella is through the night tonight.’
He started to say something then stopped and said, ‘Of course.’
He settled back and said no more and she wondered what he had been going to say. Then stopped herself.
* * *
The next morning Sofia rose bright and happy and Isabella lay content in her carry bassinet. Cleo had risen each time Isabella had woken in the night and with subtle suggestions Sofia had grown more confident to settle the baby quickly and for longer periods between. Unfortunately, it was harder each time for Cleo to fall back to sleep. The odd way Felipe had watched her after the birth of Elena’s baby kept returning to unsettle her; even his voice had changed when he’d spoken to her.
Perhaps she could leave by the end of the week as Sofia was doing so well.
* * *
After breakfast, Cleo stood at the upstairs window and watched Sofia and Isabella be driven away by Felipe’s driver. Sofia had grumbled a little at it being just eight thirty and Cleo smiled at the early start Felipe’s grandmother had demanded. She was clearly wasting no more time.
Was the house empty of its master? Cleo hadn’t seen Felipe leave. Blue skies and sunshine tempted her to see something of the city and be back before lunch. Sofia had cleverly downloaded a taxi app to Cleo’s phone so she could summon a lift when she wanted to move about the city.
Cleo liked that idea of the freedom to see what she wished and then to call a driver when she needed to move on.
A knock sounded at the door and, on opening it, Maria handed her a note. She took it reluctantly. Even though she’d never seen his writing before, she knew it was from Felipe.
So he was still at home and she would not escape from him so easily. She really shouldn’t be excited by the thought of that but her darned pulse rate had jumped unmistakably.
‘Tea is served in the library,’ Maria said, and turned away.
Cleo unfolded the paper.
I wish to speak to you. F
She could actually hear her heart beating. Well, that was the end of a quiet sightseeing tour around Barcelona on her own. Maybe he would suggest she wasn’t needed any more, which would be the most sensible thing because she was finding it harder and harder not to remember certain intimate moments between them.
She descended the stairs, took a deep breath and opened the library door.
‘Good morning, Cleo.’
‘Good morning, Don Felipe.’
He raised his brows at her. ‘Perhaps if I kissed you every time you called me Don, you would stop doing it.’
She raised her brows back. ‘I would stop because if you did that I would not be here to call you anything.’
‘I believe that, too.’ The smile he gave her made her tingle. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ she lied.
‘Neither did I.’ Matter-of-factly. He smiled broadly at her and it was the first truly open smile she’d seen since her apartment in Coogee. Despite herself, she laughed.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
He nodded but didn’t comment. ‘So today, at least until Sofia returns, I would like to spend the morning with you.’ There was no question in the statement and she shook her head at his arrogant assumption.
‘Not “May I spend time with you?”’ The way he was looking at her now made her think that sightseeing was the last thing on his agenda. His tone reminded her of the night they’d first met. The dashing dancer hero, arrogant, overpoweringly handsome, offering her wine and suggesting they take a walk. She’d gone that time, had been a fool once, and doing the same thing in Barcelona while in his employ would be doubly foolish. But she was seriously tempted to blow him a kiss and say yes.
‘I have already made plans.’ Her voice hadn’t sounded as definite as it should have, if she was being honest with him or herself.
‘Really?’ His brows rose but his smile stayed. He was playing with her. ‘What are they?’
Her mind raced as she tried to remember the places she wanted to see. ‘I have an app on my phone for the taxis going into the city and I’m going to the Sagrada Familia.’
His face softened. ‘Gaudi’s most beautiful church is certainly worth a visit. May I come with you?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ She shook her head again at his cheek but happiness bubbled up and she gave in to it. Why should she miss out on this man’s company and his no doubt stellar tourist-guide capabilities? The chance of spending time alone with Felipe made her belly tingle. She was a fool, yes. But a lucky one.
‘Of course. But I would like to come with you.’ And there he was, giving with one hand and taking away with the other. His handsome face laughing up at hers. Making her sigh with what could have been between them—if only. Spending the day with him would only make it harder to leave him in the end.
‘Why aren’t you at work?’
‘I spent several hours there in the early hours of this morning and I have just returned from there again. I am going back this afternoon.’
She instantly saw the sudden flattening of his mood. Her heart sank. ‘Don Raymond?’
‘Sí. He is at rest now.’
She leaned in and touched his arm. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’
He looked down at her. ‘Thank you. He has told me many times to appreciate his presence and not moan about his departure.’
She smiled but it was very hard. She had the feeling Felipe didn’t have too many true friends.
She gave in to the cause of diverting his thoughts. ‘What time would you like to leave?’
He looked at his watch. ‘The earlier the better. As soon as Carlos returns with the car. The crowds grow large as the day wears on.’
Huge crowds did not sound fun. ‘Why is that?’
‘In the Sagrada tickets allocate a time to go in but not a time to leave. One could lose a full day inside.’
She nodded. She just needed to collect her handbag. ‘Then as soon as possible sounds ideal.’
‘Good.’ He smiled at her. ‘Another day I would like to take you at sunset to see the golden light streaming in through the windows.’
Another day? Was he planning more trips? Instead of asking that, she only commented, ‘You sound enamoured of the place.’
‘I will tell you that story later.’
* * *
Half an hour
later they were seated together in the rear of Felipe’s car. He touched her hand. ‘Today we relax. Not business. Just friends.’
Could she do that? Pretend this Spanish aristocrat was just a friend of hers? Cleo Wren, Australian midwife, sightseeing in Barcelona with Felipe, her sexy flamenco dancer?
This was how they’d started all this. With a dancer she’d found irresistible and a walk, holding hands.
The chemistry between them sizzled and crackled just sitting in the car. His body heat so near to her thigh, his mouth curved and wickedly teasing. His eyes watching hers with a banked desire.
What would a morning of dropping the barriers between them do to their relationship? Or was she too much of a coward to find out?
‘We can try,’ she said.
* * *
When they arrived, parking behind one of the huge tourist buses, Felipe was the one who hopped out swiftly and opened her door, leaving Carlos ready to pull back into the traffic. She guessed he would be picking them up later. So that meant it was just Felipe and her.
The car disappeared around the corner in the rush of traffic and Felipe took her hand and threaded her through the vehicles when the lights turned red on the corner.
He didn’t let go of her fingers and the heat from that steady pressure travelled the length of her arm.
‘Aren’t you afraid people will see you holding my hand?’
‘Tourists? No.’
‘I thought you are a famous person here?’ Indeed, women were already looking at him but not so much with recognition as appreciation.
He smiled at her. ‘It is true I know people, and many know me, too, but you are my friend from Australia and what is the use of trappings and responsibilities of wealth if one cannot use them? Also, we have early access to a tourist site.’
He strode to the exit gate. Nodded to the guard and of course they were waved straight in. She wanted to stand outside and gawk for just a moment at the Sagrada before going inside. It was huge. Incredible.
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