A Spanish Inheritance

by Susan Stephens

  ‘This will just be a quick lunch with no champagne. Deal?’ he demanded.

  Taking her silence for assent, Ramon opened the door of his black Porsche and stood aside as he waited for her to climb in.

  Mashing her lips together, Annalisa forced her feet to move. Right now running scared seemed not just the sensible option, but the only option. Then Ramon slammed the door and it was too late. She watched him stalk around to the driver’s side. Confidence like his was…irresistible, she realised apprehensively.

  Slipping the key into the ignition, he gunned the performance machine into life. ‘That meeting has given me a real appetite.’

  Me too, Annalisa agreed silently, acknowledging the powerful aura of the man beside her, an aura that had nowhere to go but around her, in the luxurious but compact interior.

  ‘Would you like the roof down instead of air-conditioning?’ he asked, turning to look at her.

  ‘Do you read minds?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ he said with the hint of a smile.

  Good intentions weren’t nearly enough, she realised anxiously as waves of sensation coaxed her senses awake…and the steady thrum of pleasure was only intensified by the gentle but persistent vibration of the soft black kidskin seat that held her cradled in a firm and inescapable hold. A rogue shaft of arousal wrenched a sharper breath than usual from her. She knew Ramon heard it. He glanced across as if he knew exactly what she was thinking…feeling…

  Determined to keep her mind on track, she began asking him about the marina as soon as they sat down at their spectacular harbour-front table.

  He didn’t answer straight away. Instead he took the leather-backed menus from the waiter and arranged his long legs under the seat. ‘Surely it is the responsibility of your legal advisor, Don Alfonso, to provide that information,’ he said. His expression suggested that in spite of all his assurances he had not the slightest intention of discussing business matters over lunch.

  Annalisa frowned, equally determined that they would. ‘Well, I won’t be held to ransom over the shoreline—by you or anyone else.’

  ‘And I won’t discuss the matter until we have both had something to eat,’ he told her firmly. ‘Shall I order for both of us?’

  ‘I’m quite capable—’

  ‘So I recall,’ he said, summoning the waiter.

  And that was how Annalisa came to be facing a mountain of food on one plate whilst Ramon picked at a selection of delicious-looking delicacies, both hot and cold, on any number of small plates and dishes.

  ‘Would you like something?’ he murmured, catching her glance. And before she could say no he had picked out the plumpest prawn and was feeding it to her.

  When some juice escaped and trickled down her chin, he wiped it up with his hand and then lapped his fingers with his tongue before reaching for his napkin. ‘Good?’ he enquired softly, his eyes diffusing the simple question into countless possibilities.

  ‘Very good,’ Annalisa agreed hoarsely. ‘Next time you can order for me.’

  ‘Next time?’ he challenged softly.

  Well, there was still so much more she needed to discuss with him… Who was she trying to kid? An erotic heat was already stripping her mind of focus. She had to get away from him…from temptation. But he seemed in no hurry and ordered coffee for them both, exchanging pleasantries with the young waiter, who looked at Annalisa with naked interest until Ramon sent him on his way.

  When he turned back to her Ramon’s eyes had darkened to twin pools of compelling intensity. With a jolt, Annalisa realised he was well aware of the effect he was having on her. It was written all over his face. He controlled her responses. He was her jailer while she was imprisoned inside a dangerously sensitised body. Her nipples were swelling and straining against the fine white fabric of the blouse that had arrived with the Armani suit, and even the exquisite underwear only served to remind her that the most erotically charged place of all had the merest cobweb for protection. She might just as well have been naked under the precision tailoring.

  Had he chosen the clothes himself? Did he find the outward show of severity arousing, knowing how little she wore beneath? If he restrained her first, and then very slowly peeled away all the puritanical layers to expose the flagrant evidence of her arousal, would he be pleased, or angry when he saw what a wanton she had become…how hot and moist, how swollen with desire? She stole a glance at his handsome, brooding face and moved convulsively in a hopeless attempt to ease the ache between her legs. But all it proved was that there was no cure and no relief…something she suspected Ramon knew only too well when she saw his thoughtful gaze resting on her face.

  ‘I think we’d better go,’ he said, breaking the spell. He settled his coffee cup into the saucer. ‘There’s something I’d like you to see.’

  Annalisa started guiltily, as if she had been caught out in some dreadful act. But there was only purpose in his face, and that purpose was wildly at odds with her erotic fantasies.

  ‘That is if you can spare another hour before I take you home?’

  ‘I can spare the time.’

  ‘Good,’ he said looking at her keenly. ‘I should be the one—’ He broke off as he stood aside to let her go past, and showed no inclination to explain himself further.

  They got into the car and Ramon drove skilfully around the congested side streets until soon they were speeding along the main highway again. But he was taking her in the wrong direction for home. They were heading instead towards the north of the island, where the terrain became more rugged and the vegetation grew dense and lush.

  Annalisa was on the verge of asking him where he was taking her, but something about the set of his jaw discouraged conversation. Along with his customary courtesy towards her she sensed a strange intensity; a determination to have her under his control for a little while longer.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BY THE time Ramon pulled the Porsche to a halt the sky was a tapestry of rose-streaked viridian. In the dim half-light the trees at the side of the road cast smoky fingers across the dust-coated tarmac.

  ‘This is as far as we can go by car,’ he said, climbing out.

  As he held the door for her Annalisa saw they had stopped beside a sandy track that snaked away into a shadowy wood.

  ‘Are we close to the sea?’

  ‘This path leads to the beach,’ he confirmed, toeing off his loafers.

  Annalisa was still wearing her high-heeled sandals from the night before, and following Ramon’s lead she slipped them off. ‘So. Where are you taking me?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ he promised, turning as if to take her hand.

  Not trusting herself, Annalisa tucked hers into her pockets.

  Unperturbed, Ramon headed off in front of her. ‘This is a rather unconventional expedition,’ he admitted, calling back to her over his shoulder. ‘But something tells me you’re not ready to make a formal visit just yet.’

  ‘A visit?’ Annalisa queried, hurrying to catch up with him. ‘A visit to whom?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  Finally the path opened out onto a small crescent-shaped beach. Where the forest yielded to sand a natural boundary had been created by a string of smooth boulders. Like beads in a giant’s necklace, Annalisa thought as she followed Ramon across them.

  ‘There,’ he said, pointing away from the shoreline into the hills.

  Following his gaze, Annalisa saw a large house that might have looked more at home in the Hollywood hills than on the brow of a hill in rural Menorca. It wasn’t that the building lacked anything as far as she could see—far from it. But to Annalisa’s eyes the stark lines of the modern construction with its austere regimented garden sat uncomfortably amidst the craggy limestone outcrops and luxuriant tumble of vegetation. ‘This has to belong to a total control freak,’ she murmured.

  ‘Very observant of you,’ Ramon commented, sounding pleased.

  ‘You weren’t meant to overhear,’ she admitted. ‘Who does it belong to?’ />
  ‘It used to belong to your late father—’

  ‘My father!’ Why the idea should offend her to such a degree she had no idea. But it felt wrong, impossible—

  ‘Are you going to allow me to explain?’ Ramon demanded.

  She swung around to see him settled back against a gnarled tree trunk with his arms folded as he stood watching her, shadows pointing up the extraordinary seductiveness of his sun-bronzed face. Was everything she had to learn about her father going to come from Ramon? She was caught between a desperate longing to know more and a fear of becoming emotionally entangled with a man who posed a very real danger to her…and whose motives were unclear.

  But then they were distracted by the sight of a glamorous middle-aged woman strolling onto the terrace. Dressed for cocktails in a close-fitting red dress, she moved with great elegance, and her silver-blonde hair, swept into a chignon, was immaculate. ‘Who’s that?’ Annalisa murmured.

  Ramon came to stand beside her. ‘That is Señora Fuego Montoya. Your father’s widow.’

  Annalisa froze. Everything she had learned about her father since arriving on the island had been chipping away at her contempt for him. But with this change of heart came strong passions…passions that had lain dormant until this moment. Her focus sharpened as she speared a glance at her stepmother and tried not to hate her. It was impossible to see clearly, but Annalisa guessed her shoes would match the dress exactly, as would her lipstick. Something about Señora Fuego Montoya suggested no fashion detail would be too small to escape her notice.

  Ramon reached out to touch her arm in a gesture of support. ‘Are you OK? You did know your father was married?’ he asked gently.

  Struggling to control her emotions, Annalisa pressed her hand to her mouth. Words were inadequate to describe her feelings, and it was a few moments before she could answer him. ‘Yes—yes, of course,’ she managed finally. She knew the stark facts only too well. But reality was proving to be far more of an ordeal than she had ever imagined.

  His grip on her arm tightened a little. ‘I think you’ve seen enough.’

  She wrapped her arms around her waist in a defensive gesture. ‘No. I’m OK… Honestly.’

  ‘Come…come, Annalisa,’ he said again, when still she didn’t move.

  ‘You said you’d explain,’ she said, her glance fixed on the woman who had kept her father from her.

  ‘In the car,’ Ramon promised tersely.

  His resolve swallowed up the last of her objections and she offered no resistance when he led her away.

  But when they were both settled back inside the Porsche, Ramon only hugged the wheel and frowned.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Annalisa prompted.

  The look he shot her was one of concern and incredulity. ‘During the meeting today I began to suspect that you knew very little about your Spanish heritage,’ he said. ‘And now I wonder if you know anything at all.’

  Annalisa felt her emotions building up like water behind a leaky dam. She wanted to trust him. And she longed to fill in the missing pieces of the jigsaw. But all her life the subject of her father had been taboo. How could she let down the drawbridge now? And it would be complete madness to let it down for Ramon. She knew nothing about him beyond the fact that he wanted her land…maybe a lot more besides. And he was married just as her father had been. Surely he didn’t think she would make the same mistake as her mother?

  ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ he prompted.

  ‘You certainly know more than I do,’ she admitted carefully.

  ‘I hope you feel you can ask me anything,’ Ramon said gently. ‘Speak to me at any time.’

  Annalisa was sure any woman would jump at the chance to share confidences with Ramon Perez. But it was far too dangerous for her…and she had Don Alfonso to answer her questions. ‘I appreciate you taking the time to show me my father’s house—’ She broke off as he made an incredulous sound.

  ‘Your father never lived there. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. He lived at the finca. And when he became ill…when the estates and the orange groves became too much for him…he moved into a small apartment in Mahon over our offices. He built the house I just showed you for his wife, Claudia—built it to her design, not his.’ He stressed the name so there could be no mistake.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Annalisa admitted, shielding her eyes with her hand. ‘I’m not even sure I want to.’

  Ramon’s lips formed a flat line of disbelief as he shook his head. ‘Don’t you want to breathe some life into your memories, Annalisa?’

  ‘That’s just it,’ she said, finding it increasingly difficult to hold her feelings in check. ‘I don’t have any memories to breathe life into… Not of my father, at least.’

  ‘Will you let me be the one to help you?’

  Annalisa turned and gazed blindly into the darkness. Ramon Perez was the last person on earth she should choose for a confidant.

  ‘You know, you look just like him,’ he said softly. ‘The same wonderful black hair, the same strong features—’

  ‘Please. Stop it,’ she warned in a tense whisper.

  But Ramon was unaware of the tension building up inside her, and instead of letting up he gave a short, affectionate laugh. ‘I would have known you anywhere, Annalisa…even before I learned how stubborn you were—’

  ‘Stop it!’ Her agonised shout was amplified in the silence, and the pain seemed to eddy around them long after the last sound wave had died away. ‘Take me home. Please.’

  Ramon made a move as if he would have liked to touch her…to reassure her…but then thought better of it. With a flick of his wrist he switched the engine on, released the handbrake and eased the powerful black car back onto the road.

  Everything Ramon had said lingered in her mind…exerting a powerful fascination over her, Annalisa realised later as she sat gazing into her dressing table mirror. At least she was fleshing out the man to whom she owed her looks and temperament. Her mother had been a typical English rose, with fluffy blonde hair, fair complexion and pale green eyes. Only Annalisa’s pale skin betrayed her share of Anglo-Saxon roots. For the rest she was wholly Spanish, with flashing eyes the colour of treacle and midnight-black hair. And, though she was tall with long slim legs, her figure was pure Mediterranean down to the last generous curve…

  She had to see a photograph of her father. Call it pointless… Call it morbid curiosity… Or maybe she just hoped to see something in his eyes that would explain how he could abandon her mother to a lifetime of loneliness.

  Just as she was trying to work out where to get such a picture, the telephone shrilled. Her hand hovered over the receiver. It had to be Don Alfonso confirming the date of the next meeting.

  ‘Annalisa?’

  ‘Ramon!’

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Her heart had begun to race at the sound of his voice. Hearing his concern only trebled the pace. She hesitated, her mind a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

  ‘I was worried about you.’

  Her mind might have blanked, but her body responded instantly…eagerly.

  ‘Are you still there?’

  ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Would you like me to come over?’

  The pause was even longer now. ‘Here?’ she queried finally. The effect of his short deep laugh made her realise just how much she would like that…and how very dangerous it would be.

  ‘Don’t sound so shocked,’ he warned. ‘I just wanted to make sure that you were feeling all right after—’

  ‘There’s no need, Ramon,’ she said quickly, before she could change her mind. ‘I’m absolutely fine.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure?’

  Annalisa took a few deep breaths. She pictured him waiting for an answer…probably leaning back in some comfortable leather chair with his long legs crossed loosely one over the other as he toyed with the phone… It would be so easy to weaken. But no child of hers was going to b
e put through the torment of trying to put a face to its own father.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said firmly. She felt her hearing had never been so acute as she strained to listen out for his response. But there was only silence at the other end of the line. ‘I have to go,’ she said into the vacuum. ‘The animals need feeding.’ This late at night? She grimaced. He would never fall for a pathetic excuse like that.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘So, we meet again in one week’s time.’

  As long as that—

  ‘If you have any questions for me before then I would be delighted to answer them for you.’

  But Ramon wasn’t at the next weekly meeting at Don Alfonso’s office, or the week after that. Of course it shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. On the first occasion his lawyers gave no explanation for his absence and Annalisa felt she could not ask. When the second meeting came around she threw caution to the wind. And, having studied all the Spanish deeds to her property, she had just the excuse she needed.

  She stood to address the room. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to insist that Señor Perez attends the next meeting.’

  At the word ‘insist’ his lawyers tensed.

  Don Alfonso hurried to his feet. ‘You can see my client’s point of view,’ he said, glancing at Annalisa. ‘She is keen to bring this matter to closure.’

  ‘Señor Perez is a very busy man,’ one of Ramon’s team pointed out.

  The young lawyer’s tone of voice got right up Annalisa’s nose. ‘And I am a very busy woman,’ she said coldly. But it was her heart that needed answers and her heart that forced the pace. ‘If Señor Perez fails to attend next week’s meeting I shall assume he is no longer interested in acquiring any part of the shore.’

  ‘But he is in England, Señorita Wilson,’ the same lawyer informed her, lifting his shoulders in a shrug of indifference.

  With Margarita, she thought, closing her eyes briefly.

  ‘For the start of the race?’ Don Alfonso both asked and confirmed, trading smiles around the table.