by Mary Lyons
She must be careful, she warned herself now, as she leaned back in her seat to allow the waiter to clear away their plates. Not only did Antonio seem to have bowled over the restaurant’s staff with his engagingly friendly smile, but she was also clearly vulnerable. And she knew, only too well, just how this formidable man’s dark, almost irresistible attraction could affect her fragile emotions.
So, keep it light…light and friendly, she lectured herself sternly. Because, the last, the very last thing she wanted was any discussion about their past relationship.
Although to be fair to Antonio, she reminded herself, by the time he was driving them back home to Bradgate Manor, he’d made absolutely no reference to what had happened between them years ago.
‘It has been a very pleasant evening, Gina,’ he said, as he brought the car to a halt outside her home. He got out of the car and came around to open the passenger door. ‘Quite surprisingly so, in fact,’ he added, putting a hand on her arm as they walked towards the front door.
‘Oh…er…really?’ she muttered breathlessly, inwardly cursing her fumbling fingers, which seemed all over the place as she awkwardly tried to fit the key into the lock.
‘Here—let me do that for you,’ he said, his lips twitching with laughter, taking the keys from her hand and swiftly unlocking the door.
‘Yes…’ he continued as they entered the hall. ‘I must admit to having felt some qualms about meeting you again, after all these years. It might have been just…well, shall we say that it might have been just a little awkward?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she retorted, furious with herself for sounding so pathetically feeble, but not feeling capable of coping with this increasingly difficult situation.
‘Ah, Gina! Did you really forget all about me?’ he murmured, his tall figure standing close beside her now, at the foot of the staircase. ‘I am very sorry to hear that I meant so little to you.’
Forget him? I should have been so lucky!
‘No, well…the fact is…whatever happened…if anything did happen…a long time ago…and I really don’t think…’ she babbled incoherently, desperately wishing that she could suddenly sink through a hole in the floor and disappear safely from sight.
Unfortunately, while she had no trouble forming the words in her head, she was managing to sound an awful fool when trying to articulate them out loud. And what seemed to be making the problem ten times worse was the fact that he was now standing so close to her.
‘What I mean,’ she said, pulling herself together with some difficulty and attempting to sound a lot more confident than she felt, ‘is that whatever happened in the past is now—certainly as far as I’m concerned—dead and gone. To be truthful,’ she added, with as much dignity as she could muster, ‘I was a very young, silly girl at the time. And no one with any sense would wish to remember such a humiliating experience. So, I would be grateful if you would kindly not refer to the matter ever again.’
Antonio regarded her silently for a moment, before giving a brief shrug of his shoulders.
‘I will, of course, respect your decision,’ he murmured. ‘However…I must tell you that I still have some very fond memories of that time in Spain.’
Taking hold of her hand, he lifted it slowly to his lips. ‘Very fond memories, indeed,’ he added, pressing his soft lips to her trembling fingers once again, before letting go of her hand and turning to walk away across the hall.
Gazing at the tall figure lithely mounting the staircase towards his room on the far side of the house, Gina found her mind in a complete turmoil. And even when lying in her own bed, later that night, wide awake and unable to seek refuge in sleep, she could still hear his words pounding through her brain.
Despite having tossed and turned restlessly throughout the night, Gina awoke the next morning feeling surprisingly bright and cheerful.
Which must be due to the fact that there’d been no return of that awful nightmare, she assured herself. Although, to be honest, having firmly told Antonio that she was not prepared to discuss the past, in any shape or form, had probably also contributed to her feeling of well-being.
Not to mention the important fact that he really didn’t seem to regard their previous relationship in quite the same embarrassing light as she did.
So it was not surprising that, being relieved of the burden which she’d carried for so long, over the eight past years, she should now be feeling quite euphoric. Besides, the sun was shining. It was a lovely, fresh June morning. And, having showered, washed and blow-dried her hair, before slipping on a short-sleeved white blouse and tucking it inside the waistband of her straight, navy blue linen skirt, Gina told herself that it was no wonder she felt remarkably cheerful.
Unfortunately, as happened so often in life, the happy frame of mind in which she’d greeted the new day was fast disappearing by the time she and Antonio returned to the office, after a brief lunch in a local pub.
After a promising start—with Antonio appearing downstairs promptly for breakfast that morning and confirming that he’d spent a comfortable night before driving them both in his car to the office—things had promptly begun to go downhill from then on.
With two of her staff away—one on holiday and the other nursing a sick husband—Gina had known that she was likely to be short-staffed. But when Antonio had commandeered another two workers—‘I’m sorry, querida,’ he’d said, almost idly running a finger down her soft cheek, ‘but I really must locate that missing consignment’—she’d found herself being forced to work flat out all morning.
The situation had not been helped, it must be said, by the strange difficulty she had in concentrating on anything, his casual Spanish endearment and the touch of his finger on her face having left her feeling extraordinarily jumpy and strung up with nervous tension.
‘I told both Grandpa and the manager at our office in Pall Mall that we really did not have that consignment of yours on our premises,’ she told Antonio now, as they returned to the office after lunch. ‘As you’ve seen for yourself, it simply isn’t here.’
‘You would appear to be quite correct,’ he agreed with a heavy sigh. ‘However, while there’s no trace of the shipment in those bills of lading, I think that I must check through your warehouse and cellars myself, just to make certain that there’s no possibility of a mistake.’
Gina shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I suppose that’s sensible,’ she commented. ‘But I’m afraid you can’t have those two young men who were helping you this morning. There’s a whole mass of cases which need delivering around the town, and I can’t afford to take them off duty and place them at your disposal.’
‘Fair enough. However, there’s no reason why you can’t show me around the cellars, is there?’
‘No, of course not,’ she agreed, painfully aware of the considerable amount of work already piling up on her own desk. Still, it would be a bonus to prove—if only to that awful manager in London—that there’d been no mismanagement in her branch, she told herself, collecting the keys from a drawer in her desk before leading him through the large old warehouse and down into the underground cellars.
This definitely wasn’t her favourite sort of place, Gina thought, glancing around the large, dark and dank cavernous space, located well below the level of the road above them.
With only a few shafts of daylight slanting in from the small windows set high up on the wall, this place was definitely very spooky. And all those huge cobwebs didn’t help, either! Glancing up at what seemed to be yards of dusty, tattered lace curtains hanging from the ceiling, she figured there must be a whole army of spiders spending their days spinning away like crazy. Ugh! Quite frankly, the sooner she was out of here, the happier she’d be!
‘No…as far as I can see there is no trace of my missing shipment down here,’ Antonio said, brushing the dust and cobwebs from his hands and looking about him as he approached her through an aisle of heavy cardboard cases. ‘Although, you certainly seem to have some
interesting old wines stored down here,’ he added, coming to a halt beside her.
‘Yes. I think that some of them have been here since my great-great-grandfather’s day,’ she muttered, suddenly feeling rather peculiar.
Maybe it had something to do with the strange tones and shades of light down here in the cellar. Or the feeling of being dwarfed beneath the large stone columns supporting the roof, way above their heads. But, while he hadn’t said anything, and wasn’t even touching her, the physical sensations which she’d always associated with Antonio whenever she was in close proximity to his tall figure had suddenly returned with a vengeance. Her pulse felt as if it was racing out of control, and she could feel a deep flush spreading over her skin—an extraordinary sensation of white heat surging through her body.
The huge, vaulted room seemed to be shrinking about them, their two still figures caught in a time warp—one in which she was feeling increasingly weak and light-headed. The strained silence seemed to last for ever as she stared up into his gleaming dark eyes—a silence beating loudly on her eardrums as her mind was filled with disturbing, sensually erotic memories of the last time she’d found herself clasped in his arms.
As he took another slow step towards her nervous, trembling figure, she could feel her heart beginning to pound like a heavy drum, the thudding against her ribs producing a swift surge of adrenaline throughout her body and leaving her breathless, as though she’d just taken part in a hard-fought race.
Her mouth was suddenly feeling dry with a strange mixture of fear and tension. However, as she unconsciously moistened her lips with her tongue, he seemed to stiffen, his low, tersely muttered oaths suddenly cutting into the claustrophobic and highly oppressive silence.
‘Oh…um…just look at the time…I really must get back to the office…’ she gabbled, quickly spinning around on her heels and almost running towards the stairs leading out of the cellars, frantically anxious to get back to the normal, prosaic light of day. And well away from the highly disturbing Antonio Ramirez.
Walking swiftly towards her office, she almost bumped into her secretary, coming down the corridor towards her and brandishing a piece of paper in her hand.
‘I’ve just had a fax from our Bristol office, Miss Brandon,’ the girl said breathlessly, before raising her eyes past Gina’s shoulders as Antonio approached them.
‘They’ve found your missing shipment of wine in Bristol, Señor Ramirez,’ she told him with a wide, beaming smile.
‘Bueno.’ He grinned, taking the paper from her hands and quickly glancing down at the information it contained. ‘This is very satisfactory,’ he told the girl, giving her a warm smile of approval which clearly left her almost reeling with delight.
The man uses his charm like a weapon! Gina thought grimly, continuing on into her office and throwing herself down into the chair behind her desk in a thoroughly bad temper.
Yes, of course she was pleased that Antonio had at last found his precious shipment of wine. But, quite honestly, it was absolutely disgusting the way he only had to smile at a woman and she practically fell over backwards with excitement. Well! He needn’t think that she was prepared to behave in such a stupid fashion!
No, indeed! a small inner voice pointed out with heavy sarcasm. After all, now that Antonio has found his precious shipment of wine, you’re going to be thrilled to bits to see the last of him—aren’t you?
Oh—shut up! she told herself impatiently, well aware that she was not looking forward to his departure. After all it had taken her ages to recover from her last meeting with this man. Now with her emotions all over the place she had a horrid feeling that it would be a long, long time before she got over this recent encounter.
Hey! Where’s your pride, girl? she asked herself. There’s no way you’re going to let him guess just what a devastating effect he’s having on you. Right?
Damn right! She agreed firmly, before standing up, nervously brushing down her skirt and preparing to face the world—and Antonio—with a confident and happy smile.
The discovery that the wine was safely tucked away in the cellars in Bristol, and was being immediately transported down to Brandon’s headquarters in Pall Mall, seemed to have acted as a tonic as far as the staff of the Ipswich branch were concerned. And certainly Antonio himself seemed remarkably content, humming cheerfully under his breath as, in the late afternoon, he drove her back to Bradgate Manor.
For her part, Gina didn’t feel exactly like breaking into song. In fact, she was feeling highly depressed about the whole business. Although she was doing her best to keep that damned happy smile firmly pinned to her lips.
Still…she wouldn’t have to keep up the façade for very long. Just as soon as he’d collected his luggage Antonio would undoubtedly be off back down to London, impatient to catch a flight back to Spain.
‘Did you really spend a year doing a cookery course in Paris?’ Antonio said, breaking the silence as he brought the car to a halt outside the house.
‘Yes…yes I did,’ she confirmed, wondering why he should be interested as they walked across the gravelled forecourt and up the steps to the front door.
‘Excellent! So, you would have no problem in feeding a hungry man before he has to face the long journey back to London?’
‘What?’ She turned to gaze at him in surprise. ‘I’m not sure I quite understand? Do you mean that you’d like to stay and…and have dinner with me tonight?’
‘What a delightful idea! I am happy to accept your kind invitation.’ He grinned, his amusement deepening as he caught the slight flicker of consternation in her startled blue eyes.
‘If it’s too much of an imposition, I will quite understand,’ he murmured. ‘I would hate to put you to any inconvenience. You have only to say the word, and…’
‘Oh—shut up!’ she muttered, well aware that he was laughing at her. ‘Yes, of course you can stay and have dinner,’ she added, making an effort to pull herself together as she led the way into the hall.
‘It is certainly very pleasant to be sitting here, drinking an excellent glass of wine and admiring the view,’ Antonio drawled some time later, leaning back against the warm brickwork of the house and stretching out his long legs. ‘And doubly enjoyable with the prospect of sampling your culinary expertise, of course.’
‘I wouldn’t get too excited about that, if I were you,’ she told him caustically, wondering what the heck she could come up with—and at virtually no notice. Apart from anything else—and recalling his long deliberations over the menu last night—she had a nasty feeling that Antonio’s standards were more than likely to be extremely high.
And exactly why he wanted her to cook him a meal she had no idea. Surely he would want to get on the road as soon as possible?
But she hadn’t any time to worry about that just at the moment. If she wanted to have a bath and change before hitting the kitchen it looked as if she’d have to get her skates on.
Later, as she lay in the bath, immersed in foam bubbles, Gina realised that she really couldn’t stay here all day. Glancing over at her watch on the stool beside the tub, she realised that it was time she got herself downstairs to the kitchen. But, what the heck! It wouldn’t do Antonio any harm to cool his heels for a while.
However, as she got out of the bath, wrapping a thick, fluffy towel about her damp figure, there was only one really important question on her mind at that moment. What was she going to wear?
She’d thought of giving Antonio a boring one-course meal in the kitchen—which would serve him right for inviting himself to dinner! But, lying in the bath, she’d come up with another plan. Although she was beginning to wonder if it was really such a good idea, after all.
Regarding herself in a full-length mirror, some minutes later, she was pretty sure that it wasn’t!
She’d wound her long hair up, securing it on top of her head with some antique tortoiseshell combs—which she hoped would make her look a whole lot more sophisticated. And there was nothi
ng actually wrong with the dress, either. It was just that the knee-length dress of thin black crêpe, cut on the bias and clinging tightly to her full breasts and slim hips, left little to the imagination. And the low-cut, deep V of the bodice, held up by spaghetti-thin straps over her shoulders, would have caused her dear grandmother to scream out loud in horror!
Her initial impulse, when lying in the bath tonight—clearly very unworthy though it might have been—had been to show Antonio just what he’d turned down all those years ago. But now, as she stood in front of the mirror, she realised that it had been an utterly stupid idea.
For one thing it seemed such a childish response to the situation. And for another…well, she had to admit that he’d been an extremely pleasant guest, who’d even told her last night—although he’d probably been lying through his teeth—that he had nothing but happy memories of her.
Besides, she wasn’t at all sure she could carry it off. Especially not in front of Antonio who, most unfortunately—and however much she might try to deny the fact, even to herself—still seemed to have the ability to make her feel most peculiar. Her stomach churned with a weird mixture of breathless excitement and a slightly nauseous feeling of nervous tension whenever she found herself anywhere near him.
Still…it was too late to change her mind now. And so, slipping on a pair of black high-heeled sandals and giving herself a quick spray of her new favourite perfume, she left her bedroom to go downstairs.
Comforting herself with the thought that, with any luck, she’d be able to slip quietly into the kitchen and put on her chef’s apron—which would at least have the effect of making her look more respectable—Gina quickly discovered she was doomed to disappointment.
Moving swiftly down the old oak staircase, she had just taken her first step into the hall when she saw Antonio’s tall figure coming in through the door leading out on to the terrace.
Damn! That’s torn it! she told herself grimly. But it was obviously far too late for her to try and dash back upstairs.
