by Maggie Cox
‘Of course I remember them!’ A burst of warmth infiltrated Briana’s tense insides as she recalled the affluent couple she had worked for once upon a time—the couple in whose house she had first met Pascual.
‘Sabrina…their little girl…she must be—what? Nearly six now?’
‘That’s right. They are looking forward to seeing you again—and to meeting Adán of course.’
‘You told them—you told them about Adán?’
She saw his jaw briefly harden. ‘Did you think I would not tell my closest friends about the fact that I have a son?’
Putting her hands briefly up to her face, Briana shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I was…I suppose I’m just a bit nervous about meeting people who knew me before. People who knew me when I was with you.’
‘Because you fear their judgement? Marisa and Diego have too much innate good sense and class to be influenced by what others say.’
This announcement hardly reassured Briana. She was too busy wondering what kind of reception she would receive from Pascual’s family when she finally met them again, and fearing the encounter would merely confirm their worst thoughts about her. That she had proved to them she wasn’t worthy of marrying Pascual five years ago, and she was even less worthy now!
CHAPTER EIGHT
HEADING north, they soon arrived in Palermo, where Pascual’s impossibly grand and palatial house was situated. Remembering the first time she had seen it, having already been bowled over by the size and beauty of Marisa and Diego’s spectacular residence, just a few lanes away, Briana could still recall her jaw dropping at her first glimpse of the dazzling white mansion with its secluded drive lined with acacia and tipuana trees.
It looked no less beautiful and imposing now, resplendent in the late-afternoon sunshine, and not for the first time she was seized with nerves at seriously contemplating living there for good. The parallels with her experience of living two weekends out of four with her father in his large house in Dorset—far less grand than this—still hovered painfully in her mind. She hadn’t ever fitted in there, nor been made welcome, and she wondered how she would fare now in Pascual’s palatial home. Trepidation was gathering inside her at the prospect of seeing his family again…especially his mother Paloma, who had disliked Briana on sight.
Drawing her attention firmly back to the present, Adán stirred, suddenly wide awake and alert. His big eyes wide, he sat up and stared curiously through the tinted windows of the car at the huge mansion looming up in front of them. He had never travelled on a plane before, nor been abroad, so this was a day of firsts he would probably always remember.
Affectionately, Briana gave his small shoulders a squeeze. ‘We’re here, darling.’ She smiled.
‘You mean this is Daddy’s house?’ he asked, dark eyes round as saucers.
‘Sí, hijo…This is my house—and yours too.’ The small boy between them was not the only one who had excitement and pride reflected in his gaze. In fact, if Briana wasn’t mistaken, there was a definite glint of moisture in Pascual’s eyes as well. This was a momentous occasion for him, she realized—and not just because his son had just referred to him as ‘Daddy’ for the first time. He was a proud man—proud of his family, his country and his lineage. To bring his son home at last meant everything to him.
‘And what about Mummy?’ Adán demanded, a momentary frown on his clear smooth brow. ‘Is it her house too?’
Her heart racing, she found herself under Pascual’s disturbing intense scrutiny once again. Briana swore she could hear the sound of her own blood rushing through her veins.
‘Sí, Adán…This will be your mother’s home as well from now on. We will all live here together.’
Their glances met and held, and a frisson of electricity buzzed through her whole system, radiating from deep inside her womb and making her more intimately aware of him than was frankly comfortable or desirable, given the circumstances.
How did she do that? Pascual wondered, feeling dazed. Look at him with such a relatively innocent glance and make him immediately long to be alone with her, so that he could tear off her clothing with barely restrained urgency and join his aching needy body to hers…so that he could breathe her breath and taste her beguiling flavours until he was intoxicated—drunk on sensuality and desire so that he barely knew his own name any more. No woman before or since had ever made him feel like that. How he had walked out on her the other night he did not know. Except that fury and pain had overcome him and he had not been able to contain it. That would not happen the next time he found himself in bed with her! he vowed.
As the car drew up in front of the wide gleaming steps that led to the double-doored entrance, Pascual forced himself to attend to the present as his chauffeur smartly came round to open the car doors. Taking Adán with him as he left the vehicle, he scooped the little boy up high into his arms against his chest. Waiting a moment or two for Briana to join them, and admiring the tantalising glimpse of slender thigh as her blue silk skirt revealingly rode up as she left the passenger seat, he even managed a smile in her direction before leading the way into the house.
And if at that moment he felt proud, possessive and protective of his newly acquired family—then let no man dare to question or blame him! Right then he did not even want to question his own need to include Briana as family.
‘Señor Dominguez!’
Sofia—brimming with happiness and comfortingly familiar in gleaming white blouse and blacktiered skirt—greeted him as he stepped inside onto the black and white marble floor, Adán in his arms and Briana hanging back a little as though shy. Totally spontaneously he reached for her hand and pulled her to his side, pleasure exploding inside him like a firecracker at the impossibly soft touch of her skin.
‘Holà, Sofia!’ Grinning at the barely contained joy that radiated from the older woman’s face, noting her eager glance dart from Adán to himself and then Briana, as if all her Christmases and birthdays had come at once, he wasn’t surprised when she got out a lacy white handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.
‘I am so, so happy to see you all back safe!’ she declared, in clear, well-spoken English. ‘And to see the little one…your son…I can hardly believe it!’ Jamming the dainty white square back into the fulsome pocket of her skirt, she slid her hands round Adán’s startled face and proceeded to kiss him soundly on both cheeks. ‘Holà, Adán…I am Sofia, and I am honoured to meet you.’
‘He is a little shy,’ Pascual said tenderly as he set Adán on his feet and slid a reassuring arm round his shoulders. Glancing round at Briana, he gripped her hand more tightly for a moment, surprised to feel her tremble. ‘And you remember Briana, Sofia?’
‘Sí…of course I remember her!’
Without preamble, the housekeeper pulled Briana towards her for an enthusiastic hug, and after observing the younger woman’s initial stiffness in the other woman’s arms Pascual sensed his own breath ease out when he saw her slender shoulders drop a little. She hugged Sofia back.
‘It’s lovely to see you again, Sofia. Are you well?’ she asked, stepping back to Pascual’s side, her previously apprehensive expression transformed by a smile.
‘Sí, señorita…I am very well…estupendo now that you are all here!’
‘Sofia?’ Addressing his housekeeper and speaking in their native Spanish, Pascual told her they would all like to go to their rooms and freshen up a little before dinner. He was sure that Adán especially would like to see the room that would be his. He also asked her to instruct his chauffeur to bring in their luggage and ask Carlo—his groundsman and gardener—if he would kindly transport it upstairs. That done, Pascual turned to Briana, one hand still firmly holding onto his son’s. ‘I have told Sofia that we would like to go up to our rooms. Shall we?’
Having inspected his own very large bedroom—Briana was sure the ground floor of her whole house would have fitted into the square footage it commanded !—Adán was now busy running from the huge en-suite m
arble bathroom in his father and Briana’s room back into the bedroom, and then through the opened patio doors onto the generous-sized balcony, examining everything just as though he had been let loose in Hamleys toy store in Regent Street.
‘Slow down!’ she called out to him as he exited the balcony and ran back again into the bathroom. ‘You’ll wear yourself out!’
‘He is happy…no?’
Suddenly Pascual was in front of her, his dark gaze travelling at leisure down the front of her scoopnecked white T-shirt and pastel skirt. An unexpectedly warm smile touched his lips as Briana tried desperately not to look at the huge canopied empress bed to the side of her. Heat prickled all the way down her spine as she studied him.
‘You promised him an adventure and he’s certainly got it! He’ll sleep like a top tonight after all the excitement.’
Self-consciously she folded her arms across her chest. Reaching out, Pascual tugged them free. His hand inadvertently glanced against her breast and a shocked breath escaped her.
Gravel-voiced, he said, ‘Stop hiding yourself…I want to look at you.’
‘I’m not hiding! You—you make me nervous sometimes. That’s all.’
As if her words surprised him, he dropped his hands to his hips, and another easy smile broke free from his sensual lips.
‘Well, I do not mean to make you nervous. Not today, anyway. You are a very beautiful woman, Briana, and I intend to appreciate that fact. You cannot tell me that no other man has called you beautiful since we parted?’
Where was this leading? Was he jealous? For a moment the thought made her heart leap. To be jealous of compliments paid by other men suggested he still cared…even a little. If he had feelings towards her other than just anger and blame, then that had to bode well for the future, didn’t it?
‘I haven’t been interested in other men since—’
‘Since you left me?’
The dark eyes that resembled the most stunning jet in the world briefly reflected their disappointment and pain, and Briana came crashing back down to earth again.
‘I hope that’s true…that you haven’t seen any other men since me,’ Pascual continued somberly. ‘I do not like to think of you with someone else…someone who has spent time with you and my son when I could not.’
‘Well, you don’t have to worry. I told you…I’ve been too busy raising Adán and trying to run a business to have time to even think about dating!’
Just as she was about to quiz him on whether he had dated other people since they parted—yet perversely not really wanting to hear about that at all—their son diverted her.
‘Mummy, can I see the garden?’ Running back into the bedroom from the balcony, Adán glanced hopefully from Briana to his father.
‘Yes, of course you can see the garden! We have more than one, you know? In fact we call it a park, and it has many things to see in it—like fountains, marble statues, and a very large lake!’ Catching hold of the little boy’s hand with a grin that was more than a match for the dazzling Argentinian sunshine, Pascual looked as pleased and happy as his son at the prospect of showing him round his home. The sight of them together squeezed Briana’s heart. ‘Come with me and I will give you the guided tour. Then you can come back and tell Mummy what you think.’
‘Can I, Mummy?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. Just stay with Daddy and don’t go getting yourself lost!’ She faltered on the word ‘Daddy’ just the tiniest bit, but told herself she would soon get used to using it. One astonishing fact was becoming more and more obvious…Adán was having no trouble using it at all!
‘He will never leave my sight…I promise.’
Once again Pascual confounded Briana with a smile that was laden with warmth, and once again she sensed all her defences dissolve beneath its devastating impact.
‘Why don’t you take a shower or a bath while you have the chance? It might help you relax after all the travelling. Carlo will leave our luggage by the door.’
‘Thanks…maybe I’ll do that.’
‘Bien! We will see you later!’
He had instructed Sofia to make ready the smaller, more intimate dining room in the house, rather than the grand one used for entertaining. And now, as they sat round the large ebony table that had been beautifully and lovingly laid with the best silver cutlery and colourful patterned native crockery, Pascual surveyed his small family with pride and a growing possessiveness he could not deny. His chef had prepared the most appetising meal in honour of his son and wife-to-be, and they were lingering at the table long after they’d finished dessert. He poured Briana another glass of Malbec—a popular wine often drunk in the region—his avid glance surveying her for probably the hundredth time, in a demure white gypsy dress that showed off her pretty shoulders to perfection.
‘I wanted to discuss something,’ she said, fingering the delicate stem of her wine glass but not raising it to her lips.
‘Of course.’
Feeling more relaxed than he had in ages, Pascual settled comfortably back into his chair.
‘When we return here for good—’ she briefly pulled her gaze from his to let it momentarily rest on their son ‘—we’ll need to find a school for Adán. He’s in kindergarten back home, but in a few months’ time he’ll be five. Is there anywhere nearby that might be suitable?’
‘I will do some research. Sabrina de La Cruz—Diego and Marisa’s daughter—goes to a small private school not far away, and she is extremely happy there so they tell me. I will ask them for some more information.’
‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’
‘Of course I will not just take their word for it. In the next few days we will arrange a visit there and go and see the place for ourselves. I will also find out if there is a kindergarten at the school for Adán. It might be nice for him to continue going if he has become used to it, and he will make some new friends too. Being with the other children will also help him to learn Spanish.’
‘Will there be any English-speaking teachers?’
‘Of course. Argentina is home to many different cultures, as you know, and we have many English-speaking inhabitants…including teachers.’
Noisily laying down his dessert spoon beside the second bowl of chocolate ice cream he’d eagerly asked for but clearly could not finish, Adán yawned and rubbed at his eyes.
‘I think it’s past your bedtime, my angel.’ Fondly, Briana squeezed the small chubby hand on the table next to her. ‘It’s been a long day for you, hasn’t it?’ Keeping a close eye on the sleepy little boy, she turned her gaze back to Pascual. ‘There is one other thing…’
He frowned. ‘What is it?’
‘I know you suggested I should fold my business and put it behind me now that you’ve paid off my debt…but what am I to do all day when Adán is at school, Pascual? I want to pay back the money I owe you. I have to have a job of some sort. I can’t just sit around and be idle.’
He thought of several of his friends’ wives, who didn’t work at all and seemed more than content to shop, travel, and dress in the most up-to-date hautecouture fashion, being a decorative adjunct to their successful well-heeled husbands at dinner parties and polo matches.
Pascual had known from the first time he had met Briana that she was not a woman who would be remotely satisfied with such a way of life, and he did not blame her. He had even suggested she go to college and train for a career that appealed to her. Until such time as their children came along, of course…Now he took his time considering what she had said. He sensed her concern. Understood it too. They might not be contemplating the most idyllic of unions, after what had transpired between them, but the trouble was, as he gazed at her lovely face across the dinner table, Pascual kept forgetting that he wasn’t in love with her any more.
A wave of heat consumed him at the thought that she would be sharing his bed tonight…and every other night for the foreseeable future, if he had his way.
‘What if I have a word with some of
my own business contacts and see if there isn’t a demand for the kind of hospitality services you offer in the UK? We could set you up in business here in Buenos Aires. How would that be?’
The relief and pleasure in her expression was instantaneous. ‘Really? You would do that for me?’
He did not know right then why he should think of what she told him about her ‘schizophrenic’ upbringing, her father who had called her his ‘regrettable mistake’, but once the thought had surfaced it was not easily relinquished. He wondered how any father could not recognise the many gifts a lovely daughter could bring and—not only that—want the best that life could offer her.
‘Sí,’ he answered thoughtfully. ‘I would do that for you.’
‘Señor Dominguez! Señor Dominguez! I am so sorry to interrupt, but—’
‘Take a breath, Sofia!’
The small party glanced towards the dining room entrance in unison as the plump, flushed-faced housekeeper suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking as if she’d negotiated the long and winding staircase up to their landing at breakneck speed.
‘What is the almighty panic?’
‘Your parents and your cousin have arrived! They heard that you were back and—’
‘How did they hear?’ Immediately Pascual got to his feet, his dark gaze narrowing suspiciously.
‘Your mother rang earlier this morning and I told her you were returning with your fiancée and your son…Did I do wrong, Señor Dominguez?’
Sighing, Pascual pushed his fingers through his thick dark hair. Frankly, this was one impromptu visit he could do without! His plan had been to phone his family the following day, after a good night’s rest, and inform them of what had transpired in England—how he had met up with Briana again and learned that he had a son.
He hardly needed to be a mind-reader to know exactly what his suspicious mother’s thoughts would have been when she’d heard the news! Top of the list would no doubt be that Briana had somehow blackmailed him into taking her back, wrongly convincing him that the child she’d borne was his when in actual fact he was the offspring of some other man. Well…she would only have to set eyes on Adán to know immediately who his father was!
