His Forbidden Passion

by Anne Mather

  ‘I dropped the tray, Jacob.’ Lily was defensive. ‘I’m not in the habit of breaking things.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Jacob spoke indifferently. ‘I just hope you’re not trying to intimidate our guest.’

  Lily’s lips tightened. ‘Your guest, Jacob. Not mine. Or Dominic’s.’

  ‘Ma!’ Dominic intervened now, aware that Cleo’s face was rapidly losing all colour. ‘Can’t you see, Cleo had no part in Dad’s defection? You can’t blame her for something she knew nothing about.’

  ‘And that’s the truth,’ broke in his grandfather staunchly, but Lily wasn’t listening to him.

  Taking a handkerchief out of her handbag, she held it to her nose, her eyes seeking Dominic’s in mute appeal. ‘I’m not to blame either,’ she whispered tearfully. ‘I thought you would understand how I felt.’

  ‘I do.’ Dominic could feel himself weakening, but he knew deep inside that his mother was far more capable of manipulating the situation to her own ends than Cleo. ‘Just cool it, hmm, Ma? We all need to learn to get along together, right?’

  Lily sniffed. ‘I think you’re asking too much, Dominic. This is my home—’

  ‘But it’s my house,’ Jacob Montoya interrupted, his voice surprisingly forceful. ‘And so long as I own Magnolia Hill, I’ll say who can or can’t stay here.’

  Cleo stifled a groan. She pressed cold hands to her face, wishing the paving stones of the terrace would just open up and swallow her.

  This was so much worse than she’d anticipated. She’d been anxious about Dominic’s mother, of course, but she’d never expected the woman to take such an instantaneous dislike to her.

  And the fact that Lily lived here, at Magnolia Hill, just emphasised the problem. Someone should have warned her about this before she agreed to come here.

  ‘Look, we’re upsetting Cleo,’ said Dominic impatiently, and his mother let out a wounded cry.

  ‘You’re upsetting me, Dominic,’ she protested, her eyes wide and indignant. ‘But that doesn’t matter, apparently.’

  ‘Oh, please…’ Cleo couldn’t take any more of this. She looked from her grandfather to Dominic and then back again. ‘I—I never wanted to stay here. And I certainly don’t want to upset anyone. I’d be much happier if I could just find a room at a bed-and-breakfast—’

  ‘Forget it!’

  Before Dominic could voice his own protest, his grandfather had intervened.

  ‘You’re staying here, girl,’ Jacob said flatly. ‘That’s a given. And if my daughter-in-law isn’t happy with that, then I suggest she finds somewhere else to stay, not you.’

  ‘Oh, but—’ began Cleo, only to have Dominic intercede this time.

  ‘Would you rather Cleo stay at Turtle Cove with me, Ma?’ he suggested, and, as he’d expected, his mother couldn’t hide her dismay at this proposal.

  ‘That—that would be totally inappropriate!’ she exclaimed, aghast, and Jacob actually laughed.

  ‘Good move, Dom,’ he said, before shuffling across the terrace to where Cleo was standing and throwing a reassuring arm about her shoulders. ‘It’ll all work out, you’ll see,’ he added, giving her a protective squeeze. ‘So we’ll hear no more about bed-and-breakfasts, OK?’

  Cleo wanted to move out of his embrace. Whatever he said, she’d never feel at home here. But she had the feeling she was supporting Jacob as much as he was supporting her, so she merely shook her head.

  ‘Now,’ he went on cheerfully, ‘I’m guessing that was your breakfast that ended up on the ground, am I right?’ Her expression gave him her answer, and he nodded. ‘Good. Then we’ll have breakfast together.’

  ‘You’ve had breakfast, Father.’

  Lily wasn’t going to give in without a fight, it seemed, but Jacob only gave her a warning look. ‘I can have two breakfasts, can’t I?’ he demanded. Then he looked at Cleo again. ‘But I think we’ll have it in the morning room. This place needs cleaning up and the atmosphere doesn’t suit me at the moment.’

  Dominic watched Cleo and Jacob make their way across the terrace and into the house. Then he turned to look at his mother.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Like you care.’ Lily was near to tears.

  ‘Of course I care,’ said Dominic heavily. ‘But antagonising the old man isn’t going to do you any good.’ He paused. ‘She’s his granddaughter. She has every right to be here, and you know that.’

  Lily pursed her lips. ‘You like her, don’t you?’

  ‘Uh—yeah.’ Dominic was wary. ‘She’s my adoptive sister. What’s not to like?’

  ‘Correction, she’s your father’s by-blow,’ retorted Lily angrily. ‘She’s not related to us by any means whatsoever.’

  ‘OK.’ Dominic closed his eyes for a moment. ‘But she’s still a Montoya, in everything but name. Whatever names you choose to call her, she’s still the legitimate heir to Magnolia Hill.’

  Lily’s lips parted. ‘Did your grandfather tell you that?’ she asked, appalled.

  ‘No.’ Dominic didn’t know what the old man might decide about the house. ‘But she does have a place here, Ma. Goodness knows, it was hard enough to persuade her to come.’

  Lily frowned. ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ Dominic was weary of this. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. I promised Josh I’d call into the office as soon as I got back.’

  ‘Oh, yes, it’s all right for you, isn’t it?’ muttered Lily resentfully. ‘My father left you God knows how many millions, and Jacob’s already given you virtual control of the Montoya Corporation. Whereas I—I—’

  ‘Can do exactly what you like,’ Dominic interrupted her flatly. ‘You chose to come and live here when Dad died. But there’s nothing stopping you from buying another house.’

  Lily gasped. ‘This is my home!’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘I never thought I’d hear you say otherwise.’

  ‘I’m not saying otherwise,’ protested Dominic, wishing he’d never started this. ‘I just want you to be happy.’

  ‘Then you should never have brought that girl here,’ declared his mother forcefully. ‘I don’t know what Sarah’s going to think.’

  ‘Sarah’s not my keeper, Ma!’

  ‘No, but she is your girlfriend, Dominic. She deserves some loyalty, don’t you think? Or are you blinded by this other young woman’s doubtful charms?’

  Dominic stifled an oath. ‘You’re exaggerating the situation,’ he said harshly. ‘Sarah’s a friend, that’s all. I’ll go and see her in my own good time.’

  ‘I think she thinks she’s rather more than that,’ said his mother tightly. ‘But in any event, I’d make my peace with her before she hears about your apparent attachment for your grandfather’s—um—folly—from someone else.’

  Dominic scowled. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You can’t deny you and the Novak girl were acting very cosy when I walked onto the terrace,’ Lily asserted, pushing the tissue she’d been using back into her bag.

  Dominic raked long fingers through his hair. ‘Don’t call her the Novak girl!’ he exclaimed frustratedly. ‘Anyway, what do you mean, we were acting cosy? What did you think we were doing?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I?’

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake!’ Dominic was rapidly losing his temper and it was an effort to rein it in. ‘I was trying to get her to relax, that’s all. If you’d get your head out of your—’ He broke off, before he said something unforgivable, and continued, ‘Get to know her, Ma. You might like her, too.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Lily was inflexible and Dominic gave up. ‘I’m going to change,’ he said. ‘I need to get into town.’

  Hunched shoulders was his only answer and, blowing out an impatient breath, Dominic started for the door.

  There was no point in saying any more, he realised. He’d probably said more than he should already. But, dammit, Cleo needed someone other than his grandfather to fight her corner.

  Break
fast with her grandfather was surprisingly enjoyable.

  And, although Cleo knew it was due in no small part to Jacob’s determination to put her at her ease, she found him amazingly easy to talk to.

  Much like Dominic, she admitted unwillingly. Except that when she was talking to her grandfather, there was no sexual tension between them.

  As there was with Dominic.

  A shiver of remembrance prickled her spine. She didn’t know what might have happened if his mother hadn’t interrupted them as she had. Or was that simmering awareness between them only in her mind, not his? There was no doubt it played an integral part in the way she reacted to him.

  But it was pleasant, sitting in the sunlit luxury of the morning room, overlooking the gardens of the house and the blue-green waters of the Atlantic beyond.

  Crisp lemon-yellow linen, gleaming silver flatware, cut glass and bone china, all set on a circular table in the shaded curve of the windows.

  Jacob began by saying how sorry he was that she’d lost her parents—even if he was thinking that she’d had no blood tie to them at all. Nevertheless, he was kind enough to express his condolences; to help her to relax and feel there was someone else, besides herself, who cared.

  Her apology for not appearing again the night before was quickly dealt with.

  ‘Dominic was right,’ he assured her, gnarled fingers surprisingly dark against her creamy skin. ‘I should have realised you were tired. Instead of expecting you to be as excited to see me as I was to see you.’

  Cleo had no answer to that. Easy-going as he was, she hadn’t to forget how she came to be here. But it wasn’t as easy to hold a grudge in such beautiful surroundings. And hadn’t he been as much a victim of circumstance as she was?

  No!

  Fortunately, her grandfather was happy to lead the conversation. He seemed quite content to describe the island and its history, entertaining her with stories of the illegal rum-running that had gone on during Prohibition in the United States.

  Surprisingly, he’d also mentioned the slavery that had taken place during the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth centuries, too. He’d shocked her by admitting that there were few families on San Clemente who could claim there was no mixed blood in their ancestry.

  Indeed, she’d been so engrossed in what he was saying that it wasn’t until the meal was over that Cleo realised how much about her own life he’d gleaned. Just the odd question here and there, but she’d found herself telling him about her job and about Norah, forgetting for a few moments exactly who he was.

  He was a clever man, she mused, accepting his invitation to sit on the terrace for a while after breakfast. He’d probably already known half of what she’d told him. But by getting her to confide in him, he’d created a bond between them that would be that much harder to break.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like a swim,’ he remarked, apparently aware that Cleo had been eyeing the cool waters below the terrace with some envy. ‘Later this afternoon, you might enjoy a walk along the shoreline. I’d like to take you myself, but for now I can recommend the pool.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Cleo shook her head. Then, in an outright lie, ‘I don’t have a swimsuit, Mr Montoya.’

  ‘If you can’t call me Grandpa, call me Jacob,’ he said a little tersely then, continuing his earlier suggestion. ‘A swimsuit is no problem.’ He gestured with his stick towards the cabanas. ‘You’ll find everything you need in one of the cabins. Serena always keeps a selection of swimwear for unexpected guests.’

  ‘But I’m not really an unexpected guest, am I?’ Cleo regarded him with cautious eyes. ‘I think I’d rather hear why you’ve brought me here now. When—well, for over twenty years you’ve ignored my existence.’

  Jacob sighed. ‘It must seem that way, mustn’t it?’

  ‘It is that way,’ said Cleo flatly. ‘And although I appreciate that you’re ill—’

  ‘My being ill is the least of it!’ exclaimed her grandfather fiercely. ‘Is that what they told you? That because I’m dying I’ve had a change of heart?’

  Cleo felt a little nervous now. She didn’t want to upset him, goodness knew.

  ‘And—and isn’t that true?’ she ventured, aware that she was treading into deep water. But she had a right to know, she told herself. She’d spent too many years in the dark.

  The old man’s fingers massaged the head of his cane for a few pregnant moments, and then he said, ‘How much has Dominic told you?’

  ‘Oh…’ Cleo could feel her body getting hot now and she shifted a little uncomfortably beneath his knowing eyes. ‘Well, he told me that—that Celeste—’

  ‘Your mother.’

  ‘All right, my mother—used to work for the Montoyas.’

  ‘Yes, she did. She worked for Robert and Lily. I believe Dominic was very fond of her. But he was only a young boy at the time.’

  ‘Dominic knew her?’

  ‘Of course. She lived with the family. And until—well, until my son took a fancy to her, Lily and Celeste were good friends.’

  ‘Friends!’

  Cleo was scornful, but Jacob only shook his head. ‘Yes, friends,’ he insisted. ‘We have no class system here on the island, Cleo. Your mother worked for my son and his wife, this is true, but she was never regarded as one of the servants.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘You know what happened.’ Jacob grimaced. ‘Robert fell in love with her. Oh, yes.’ He held up a hand as Cleo would have interrupted him. ‘Robert did love Celeste. I am assured of that. But he loved his wife as well and he knew that their relationship would destroy Lily if she found out.’

  Cleo bent her head. ‘How convenient that Celeste died.’

  Jacob made a sound of resignation. ‘I suppose it does seem that way to you. And I accept the fact that your growing up on the island would have been a constant threat.’

  ‘To your son!’

  ‘And to Lily,’ Jacob agreed heavily. ‘She couldn’t have children, you know. If she could, things might have been different.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Cleo couldn’t help the faintly bitter edge that had entered her voice now, and Jacob stretched out a hand and gripped her arm.

  ‘No one knows what might have happened if circumstances had been different,’ he said, holding her troubled gaze with his. ‘I’m not totally convinced Robert would have let you go to England. But after Celeste’s death, he was a changed man.’

  Cleo made a helpless gesture. ‘And where did my—the Novaks fit into the equation?’

  ‘Well…’

  Jacob released her arm and lay back in his chair. He was looking very pale and Cleo realised this must be a terrible strain on him. She half wished someone—even Lily—would interrupt them. But the breeze was all that stirred the feathery palms.

  ‘Henry was a decent man,’ her grandfather said at last. ‘But he was ambitious. He thought that moving to England would help him achieve the success he was striving for. He and Lucille had no children, and Lucille and Celeste had been friends. It wasn’t too difficult to persuade them to adopt her daughter.’

  Cleo caught her breath. Her mother—her adoptive mother—and her real mother had been friends! That at least accounted for the faded photograph she’d found among her parents’ papers, after they were dead.

  She frowned now. ‘But it must have been a drain on their resources. I mean, my father—Henry, that is—didn’t have a job to go to, did he?’

  ‘No.’ Jacob moistened his lips. ‘We—Robert and I—oiled the wheels of the removal for him. It was…the least we could do.’

  Cleo stared at him. ‘You mean, you paid him to adopt me?’ She was dismayed. ‘Oh God. No one told me that!’

  ‘Don’t take it so hard, my dear.’ Jacob blew out a breath. ‘You have to understand, the Novaks were not wealthy people.’

  ‘Even so…’

  ‘They looked after you, didn’t they? They loved you, I’m sure. And, judging by the way you’ve turned out,
they did a damn good job of it as well.’

  Cleo shook her head, aware that her eyes burned with unshed tears. It was all too much for her to handle. First the news that she wasn’t who she’d always thought she was. And now—horror of horrors—the fact that her parents had had to be paid to adopt her.

  Well, they weren’t her parents, of course, she reminded herself. She mustn’t forget that. And it was true, they had loved her and she’d loved them. But how much of their love had been fabricated? she wondered. She would never know now.

  ‘This has been very hard for you,’ murmured her grandfather regretfully. ‘And believe me, if I could have done it any other way, I would. But we, Robert and I, respected the Novaks’ wishes not to contact you. They wanted you to have nothing more to do with this family, and I suppose I can’t blame them for that. But when I discovered they’d been killed in that accident—’

  ‘All bets were off,’ said Cleo bitterly, and her grandfather bowed his head in mute acknowledgement.

  There was silence for a while. The breeze continued to bring a blessed freshness to the air, and the water in the pool rippled invitingly.

  Glancing at her grandfather, Cleo saw he’d closed his eyes and she wondered a little anxiously if he was all right. But his chest was rising and falling rhythmically, so she felt a little better. Probably, he’d just fallen asleep.

  She wished she’d agreed to take a swim now. The idea of submerging herself in the cool water was just as attractive as it had been before.

  But she was glad they had had this conversation. At least she knew now why the Novaks had adopted her. Even if she felt as if the world as she’d known it had been destroyed.

  Pushing herself to her feet, she walked to the edge of the terrace and stood looking down at the marble dolphin that continuously spouted water into the pool. She wished she could be as unfeeling as the fountain. But she was far too emotional for that.

  ‘Why don’t you?’ her grandfather’s voice interrupted her reverie. ‘Have that swim?’ he suggested, and she turned to gaze at him with incredulous eyes.