The Latin Affair
Page 18
‘He said you would withdraw the charges if I came to see you,’ she said rapidly.
He looked stunned. ‘That man was your brother?’
Nicky nodded. ‘He was stupid,’ she said rapidly. ‘But if you hadn’t treated that woman Francesca so badly, she would never have convinced him to help in the first place. He’s never done anything like that before. And he really—’
Esteban breathed hard. ‘Nicky—’
‘—doesn’t know how he could be so stupid. What?’
‘Shut up,’ said Esteban, coming firmly towards her and taking her in his arms. ‘Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.’
He threw a key on to the desk and kissed her comprehensively. Nicky gave a small sob.
‘You can’t want me. Not after the way I lied.’
‘You didn’t lie,’ said Esteban, kissing her throat, her chin, her eyelids. He sounded breathless. ‘You just forgot to tell me all the truth. And you would be surprised what I can want’
Not lifting his mouth from her skin, he pushed the coat off her shoulders. Her business suit followed. His hands were practised but not quite steady.
‘Oh, God, Nicky, I thought I’d lost you. I’ve got to have you now.’’
They sank on to the floor.
It was a long time later when Nicky stirred in his arms and said dreamily, ‘I think we both just behaved appallingly.’ She sounded rather proud of herself.
Esteban was shaken by a soundless laugh. He hugged her close. ‘Somebody ought to paint it,’ he agreed lazily.
‘Completely out of control.’ Nicky was warming to her theme.
He kissed her. ‘Don’t wind me up, you baggage. I’ve never had any control where you’re concerned.’ He paused, then said painfully, ‘That was what scared me so much in the Caribbean.’
Nicky struggled up on one elbow and stared down at him, astonished.
‘Scared? You?’
He reached up a wondering hand and traced her mouth.
‘I’d seen my father go crazy. I thought I was different. It took just one car ride and being hit on the foot with a jar of coffee to show me I was exactly the same. And you were fifteen, for God’s sake.’
Nicky said incredulously, ‘You do remember.’
He sat up. ‘I remember all right.’
She gave a shiver, half voluptuous, half sad.
He said with difficulty, ‘I don’t know how I didn’t recognise you.’
Nicky said wisely, ‘You probably didn’t want to. I didn’t I’m pretty certain I knew before I knew I knew, if you follow me.’
Esteban looked sober. ‘When did you know for sure?’
‘When I saw a photograph in your room. You were wearing sunglasses. It just—clicked into place. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me?’ He sounded as if he was suffering.
Nicky shook her head. ‘At first I just wanted to run. Later—’ She bent her head, blushing. ‘I meant to. But things kept interrupting. And then I lost my nerve.’
Esteban’s arm clamped her to him. ‘Were you so scared of me?’
Nicky looked at him in surprise. He looked sick.
It gave her courage to say, ‘Not scared exactly. But I’ve always been sort of ashamed.’
‘Ashamed? Of what, for heaven’s sake?’
Nicky looked down at her rosy nakedness. She was reclining against Esteban’s shoulder for all the world like one of Hallam’s more disreputable nymphs. She smiled.
‘It may be difficult to believe just at this moment, but I used to hate men looking at me.’
He did not smile back. His arm tightened painfully and she felt his lips move in her hair.
‘Piers and his friends did quite a number on you, didn’t they?’
‘Not the number that you did. You were the one who called me a voluptuous Cleopatra.’ Her smile died. ‘You were the one who didn’t want me.’
‘I wanted you.’
She looked up. ‘But—’
‘You say you were ashamed. What do you think I was?’ His voice was harsh. ‘You were so young and scared and I—lost control. I was worse than Felipe.’
‘No,’ said Nicky, dazed.
‘And then it happened all over again last week. Like a recurring nightmare. When I thought you’d set me up I went mad for a moment. I almost hated you. I wanted to hurt you.’
Nicky flinched. But she said steadily, ‘But you didn’t.’
He drew away a little and lifted her chin so she had to look up at him. He touched her mouth gently. His face twisted. ‘You’re very generous. I know I wasn’t—kind.’
Nicky’s eyes were steady. ‘No. But I probably deserved it.’
‘Don’t say that,’ he said sharply. ‘It makes me feel like Felipe.’ He shut his eyes for a moment ‘I always dreaded—’ Nicky hugged him. ‘You were shocked and you nearly lost it for a moment. That’s all. You didn’t hurt me. Not the way you hurt yourself.’
He said on a little shaken breath, ‘Oh, Nicky, I love you. I’ll never hurt you again. I swear it.’
He held her very tightly.
Nicky said, ‘So why have you let this whole week pass without a word? Why did you just send that beastly suitcase back to the showroom? It seemed like you didn’t want me again.”
He lifted his head and looked down at her eloquently.
‘Is that what it seems like?’ he asked drily.
Nicky gave a little wriggle of pleasure.
‘Well, maybe not just at this moment,’ she allowed. ‘But it was pretty horrible marching about outside trying to get up my courage. It was raining too.’ She shivered.
‘You’re cold,’ said Esteban remorsefully.
He looked round for her clothes. They were strewn widely and he could not find her tights. But he collected the rest and helped her to dress, kissing her as he helped her pull on the garments.
‘Well, you don’t look very respectable, my darling,’ he said, sweeping her hair clear of her collar and kissing her ear, ‘but at least you won’t die of cold before I get you home.’
Nicky was suddenly shy.
‘Home?’
‘My home,’ Esteban said firmly. ‘I’m not letting you out of my sight again until you marry me. I have an apartment below Tower Bridge.’
Nicky raised her eyebrows. ‘And what about my apartment?’
Esteban was not thrown. ‘Fine. I’ll pack a suitcase and we’ll go to your home. Or you pack a suitcase and come to mine. I am infinitely flexible. I’m just not letting you go.’
‘Control freak,’ said Nicky blissfully.
Esteban was hurrying into his own clothes. He looked up at that, his expression unexpectedly sober. ‘Not any more. This last week has taught me that I can’t afford control if I want to hang on to you.’
Nicky was moved. She went up to him, buttoning his shirt like a long-married wife.
‘How did you work that out?’
He grimaced. ‘With the help of my father, in the end.’
‘I thought you didn’t talk to him.’
‘I didn’t But he came here and saw the state I was in. He gave me some excellent advice—along the lines of not doing everything that he did, admittedly—and persuaded me that I had to stay here and sort things out with you, not go off to New Zealand. So I sent off the work I’d done on the case to the local man and bowed out.’
Nicky was conscience-stricken. ‘But the money you were going to earn—you said Hallam needed it’
Esteban put his arms round her and held her against his chest
‘Felipe again. He has always offered to help but I was too proud. He convinced me that there were things more important than pride.’
Nicky rubbed her face against his shirt-front. ‘So why didn’t you come to me?’
‘I was going to. I was planning it very carefully.’
Nicky was bewildered. ‘Planning?’
‘There were,’ Esteban pointed out drily, ‘one or two impediments. Francesca needed a smart reminder of
‘Oh,’ said Nicky. She had wondered about Francesca Moran.
‘And then there was the glamorous intruder. You said you were not involved with anyone. But you were clearly intimate.’ The dark eyes looked fierce for a moment. ‘I could have killed him when he said he was your private life.’
Nicky shivered, remembering. ‘You said that’
‘He didn’t have to agree.’
‘He was trying to protect me.’
Esteban said something rude under his breath. ‘I knew I was going to have to clear him out of the path one way or another. So I rang the police a couple of days ago and said that I knew him and he’d done it for a bet.’
Nicky was impressed. ‘Didn’t they charge you with wasting police time?’
‘I’m a local employer,’ Esteban said cynically. ‘All it cost me was a lecture on my irresponsible friends and several tickets to the Police Ball.’ He chuckled suddenly. ‘In fact that was going to be my excuse to ring you up. I thought I would point out that you got me into it, so it was your moral duty to come with me to the blasted ball.’
‘When?’ demanded Nicky.
Esteban was startled. ‘I don’t know. Before Christmas some time. That’s when it usually is.’
‘I mean when were you going to phone me up?’ said Nicky impatiently.
‘Not phone. Stand on your doorstep. Tonight. With my heart on my sleeve and a mega helping of humble pie in the shape of two dozen roses,’ Esteban said drily.
Nicky choked. ‘What?’
‘I told you, I’ve been taking advice from my father,’ he said. The amusement was back in his voice. ‘He has a rather Latin attitude to these things.’
‘Why not until tonight?’
‘Because I didn’t manage to persuade de Vries to give me your address until today. Apparently your colleagues finally convinced him that you were eating your heart out for me,’ he added complacently.
‘Eating my—’ Nicky was indignant. She strode about the room, mock affronted. ‘It’s a foul lie. How can you—?’
Her attention was caught by the judge’s portrait. She blinked. So that was where the missing tights went. Nicky began to laugh.
Esteban had been settling down for an enjoyable battle. Now he raised one eyebrow. ‘What?’
She grinned, pointing. ‘For a couple of control freaks, we lost it pretty comprehensively this evening, don’t you think?’
Esteban turned, following her finger. He took in the judge’s new adornment. His shoulders shook.
‘Would you say lost it?’ he drawled. ‘I’d say we reached new heights.’
He extended a long arm and tugged at the tights. There was a moment of resistance. Then they fell, clearly laddered beyond repair, and the portrait lurched sideways. It was too much. Nicky let out a delighted peal of laughter and clung to Esteban.
He looked down at her, his mouth curling wickedly.
‘I can see you’re going to be a terrible influence,’ he murmured.
Nicky looked up at him. There was so much love in his eyes, he was almost unrecognisable. Her laughter quietened.
‘I hope so,’ she whispered. ‘I do hope so.’
The wicked mouth was fierce on hers.
‘Count on it,’ said Esteban.
eISBN 9781459281271
THE LATIN AFFAIR
First North American Publication 1999.
Copyright © 1999 by Sophie Weston.
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