‘Well, there was a reason.’ She looked at him warily. It was hard to believe that for a window in time she had felt relaxed enough to share anything with him. Right now she was looking at a stranger, a cold, distant, watchful stranger. ‘And I can understand why Freddy did…well, what he did…’
Cesar, reading between the lines, seeing the uncomfortable expression on her face and the anxious fidgeting of her hands, adding it to the fact that he was currently sitting on an orange plastic chair in a hospital, came to the only conclusion his logical mind could find.
‘Are you trying to tell me that my brother has had some sort of money problem that he’s kept to himself? I knew he gambled, but has it got out of hand?’ Cesar cursed softly to himself. He had controlled his brother’s lifestyle for his own good, making sure that he kept an eagle eye on his outgoings so that he could forestall any potential problems. But what if his brother had had financial problems? What if there had been a shortfall somewhere and he had been too scared to come running to him, knowing what his reaction would be? That would make sense. In a moment of rare self-examination, Cesar acknowledged that he could be unsympathetic and dismissive.
‘Has he got into some kind of trouble and ended up in hospital because of it?’
‘Freddy hasn’t gambled for months, Cesar. No…’
‘Drugs, then. Is that it? Is that why I’m sitting here?’ He raked his fingers through his hair and for a moment she felt a powerful tug on her heartstrings as she looked at this big, controlled man torn by incomprehension and deserted by his usual self-assurance.
She reached out and touched his hand. For a second there was a bond between them, as if a bridge had sprung up between the massive chasm that was dividing them, then he shook off her hand.
‘Stop, Cesar,’ Jude said firmly. She sat on her hands just in case they decided to do something crazy again without her permission. ‘You’re jumping to all sorts of conclusions. Freddy hasn’t got a gambling problem and he isn’t a drug addict either. The opposite, in fact. He’s as focused as he’s probably ever been in his whole life and that’s the thing…there’s a reason why he’s changed…’
‘Just spit it out, Jude, because I’m getting tired of the endless riddles.’
‘He’s in love.’
‘He’s in love? And he’s in hospital because of a…what…broken heart? Tell me, who exactly is the object of my brother’s affections?’ His eyes narrowed suspiciously on her face and Jude looked back at him, outraged at the implied insult in that questioning gaze.
‘Not me, if that’s what you’re thinking, Cesar! Do you imagine that I would have…could have….if…’ She took a few deep breaths and told herself that she shouldn’t be offended because Cesar was just being Cesar. Suspicious to the point of absurdity.
‘He’s in love and has been for a long time with a girl called Imogen.’
‘That’s impossible,’ Cesar dismissed, pushing back his chair so that he could extend his long legs at an angle. ‘The name means nothing to me.’
‘Don’t be so superior, Cesar!’ Jude snapped. ‘You live in a bubble, do you know that? A magical world where you think you know everything there is to know about everybody!’
Far from having any impact on him, Cesar lounged back in the chair and shot her a look that questioned whether she had taken leave of her senses. On several counts, he felt considerably relieved. Firstly, his brother was fine. Secondly, Jude was fine. Thirdly, for a second there that whole Fernando in love thing had done something crazy to his composure, for a second there he had thought that Jude was the woman involved. She wasn’t.
‘I’m really struggling to see where all this is going. So my brother fancies himself in love. He’s been there before and he’ll go there again.’
‘He hasn’t and he won’t and you still haven’t asked why you’re sitting here if the only reason I wanted to see you was to tell you that Freddy’s found the girl of his dreams.’
Cesar had the grace to flush. Relief seemed to have distracted him from the main issue. In fact, relief on several fronts had weirdly distracted him from what should really be annoying him, namely the fact that, at great personal inconvenience, he had sequestered the company helicopter on a mission that could probably have waited.
‘You said. Her name’s Imogen.’
‘And she was rushed to hospital today to deliver their baby, which was born prematurely.’
The silence that greeted this slice of information was deafening. For once, Cesar was utterly and completely dumbstruck and Jude didn’t know whether to laugh at his expression or duck for cover.
‘You’re kidding.’
‘Do I look as if I’m kidding? Freddy called me up this morning in a complete state of meltdown. He’s been here for the past few hours, out of his mind with worry. Hence he volunteered me to tell you…to tell you the truth about Imogen…’
‘Why was I kept in the dark about this?’
‘Could you keep it down, Cesar?’ she hissed. ‘Have you forgotten where we are?’
‘Is there somewhere else we could go?’ he asked abruptly.
‘No, there isn’t. At least not within walking distance and I want to stay here. Imogen is my closest friend. You once asked me how I met your brother. Well, it was through Imogen and the reason this was kept from you was because Freddy was afraid that…’
‘You both lied to me.’
‘We didn’t lie…’ Jude didn’t want to get into this offshoot of what she had to say. She had known, almost within minutes of meeting Cesar, that any form of deception would not have sat easily with him and, whilst she had chosen to label it, as Freddy had, a slight evasion—a slight temporary evasion—she was uneasily aware that she had been an accomplice to something Cesar might well consider insupportable.
‘I think I need to go and see my brother.’
‘It’s not a good time to start an argument about this. In fact, I won’t allow it.’
‘You won’t allow it?’
She recognised this as a tone of voice that could have halted an army in its tracks. However, Jude wasn’t about to let Cesar loose on Freddy. Even if he gave her his word that nothing would be said about the revelations, she knew that, inevitably, he would be physically incapable of not expressing an opinion. Cesar lived in, and was accustomed to living in, a world in which he had absolute freedom to say what he wanted. Today, she determined, wasn’t going to be one of those days.
‘That’s right. I’m not going to let you confront Freddy…’
‘You misunderstand me. I never said anything about confronting my brother…’
‘You don’t have to,’ she said bluntly. ‘Freddy’s not in a very good place right now and he doesn’t need you making things worse.’
Cesar was lost for words. Never in all his adult life had anyone forbidden him from doing anything. The words allow and Cesar had never actually occurred in the same sentence and here she was now, glaring at him like a headteacher dealing with a recalcitrant pupil.
‘I think we should talk,’ Jude continued, ignoring his outraged expression. ‘I can explain why Freddy chose not to disclose any of this to you…’
‘As did you. Even when we were in your house, making love.’
Jude went red. She didn’t need any reminder of that. Her mind did a very good job on its own of not letting her forget.
‘Maybe it would be a good idea to find somewhere else to talk,’ she conceded, half to herself. ‘We’re occupying seats other people might need more than us.’ And, besides, she wanted privacy to speak with him, even though she knew that no one was listening or would care what they were talking about, even if they were sitting right next to them at the same table.
‘Scared I might blow a fuse?’
‘I know you wouldn’t do that.’ At least, not at that very moment in time. She stood up. ‘I’ll just go and see Freddy, let him know that I won’t be around for an hour or so and I’ll meet you back here.’
Cesar knew that the
re was nothing to prevent him from going with her but he contented himself with a curt nod. He needed time to himself to think, at any rate. On the surface was the business of being deceived, but scratching the surface was the far more overwhelming reality that Fernando had a baby, that he had managed to keep secret an entire chunk of his life because…
He watched her get eaten up by all the people coming and going and rubbed his eyes wearily with his fingers.
It was turning out to be one hell of a day. Rather than churn over in his head all the thoughts which seemed too big for him to absorb, he flipped open his cell phone and put a call through to his secretary, whom he had left wearing a baffled expression and holding a dossier of paperwork which, she had stammered, was urgent. Efficient as she was in every way possible, the one thing she apparently couldn’t deal with was a boss acting out of character.
Her bewilderment was almost audible down the line when he told her that all his appointments were to be cancelled until he informed her otherwise. Anything important should be e-mailed to him. She couldn’t have sounded more shocked if he had told her that he was about to take a trip to the moon.
He snapped shut the phone just as Jude was weaving her way back towards him.
For the briefest of moments, just the span of the blink of an eye, he forgot everything. He only saw her, her slight figure which, as he knew from first-hand experience, was as sexy as hell, the stubborn, elfin attractiveness of her face, at present lost in distraction, the short hair that could have looked disastrous and instead was inexplicably appealing.
What the hell was she wearing? He’d never seen such a shapeless garment in his life before, not helped by the oversized jumper she had thrown on over it. A jumper which he recognised as one of those hanging on a hook by her front door.
She focused on him at the same time as he reined in his mutinous train of thought. How the hell could he be distracted at a time like this, when there were a thousand and one questions bouncing around in his head?
‘I’ve spoken to Freddy,’ Jude said, not sitting down. She grinned. ‘Things are looking good for both mother and daughter. Their baby’s going to be kept in hospital for at least a couple of weeks, maybe longer, but the doctors say she’s doing incredibly well and Imogen’s smiling, which is always a good sign. I’ve told Freddy that we’re just going to grab a coffee somewhere in town but that we shouldn’t be long.’
She didn’t add that Freddy had wanted to talk to his brother himself because she wanted to make absolutely sure that she had had a chance to put Cesar in the picture and hopefully deflate any tendency to erupt. If Cesar knew that Freddy was no longer in quite the same state of shock, she was pretty sure that he wouldn’t now be getting to his feet and putting on his jacket.
‘My car’s in the car park.’ She turned away and killed the treacherous thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a little part of her that wanted to carry on talking to Cesar, even though she had no idea how relaxing the conversation was going to be. To be brutally honest, even though she knew that the conversation was probably going to be hellish. Just being in his presence, like an addict driven to feed an unhealthy habit, was irresistible.
‘I never asked,’ she said as they headed towards her car, ‘how did you manage to get here so quickly?’
‘Helicopter.’
‘I’m sorry to have dragged you away from your…meetings…’
‘I know. You already apologised. Is that your car?’
Ah, something on which to focus that was neither the delicate situation at hand, which she would leave until they were sitting in front of their energy-boosting coffees, nor her rapidly beating heart which was signalling to her, with every sickening thud, that she was still as knocked out by the man as she ever had been.
She could lose herself in a pointless but much needed quibble about the incredulous scorn in his voice.
‘Have you got a problem with that?’ She faced him squarely, hands on her hips, before unlocking the door the old-fashioned way, as central locking was still a dream when her Land Rover had hit the roads. As were most other automobile gadgets the rest of the Western world took for granted.
‘Lots of problems,’ he said, defusing the situation, much to her annoyance, ‘but that definitely isn’t one of them.’
CHAPTER SIX
WITHIN HALF AN HOUR they had parked and were making their way to a coffee shop. The short drive had been conducted largely in silence. Cesar seemed heavily preoccupied with his thoughts, staring through the window, and Jude was content to skip the stilted conversation about nothing in particular.
‘They haven’t decided on a name for the baby,’ she said eventually, to break the silence. ‘Freddy thinks maybe Maria after your mother and Florence after Imogen’s mum.’
‘What is she like, this woman…?’
‘We can talk about that…once we’re sitting down, having a coffee.’
‘I need something stronger than a coffee!’
Jude nodded. Well, it was nearly five-thirty. She veered away from the coffee shop and towards a restaurant/bar which opened all day for food and drink. It was spacious, very modern, comfortable and, at this hour, virtually empty. By seven-thirty it would be packed solid with an after-work crew.
‘Right,’ Cesar said as soon as the waiter had scuttled off to get their drinks—mineral water for her and a whisky for him. ‘You were going to tell me what this woman is like. I presume not the sort you would bring home to meet the parents if Fernando has kept her a secret.’ He shot her a twisted, cynical smile. ‘No one keeps a woman locked away unless they’re ashamed of her.’
‘It’s nothing like that. Of course Freddy’s not ashamed of Imogen! Why would he be? She’s a wonderful girl and I should know that better than most. I grew up with her.’ The bottle of mineral water looked dangerously insufficient to cope with Cesar on full throttle.
‘How ironic to be singing the praises of someone who, until today, didn’t exist as far as I was aware. Suddenly she’s out of the cupboard and you’re telling me that she’s the next best thing since sliced bread. Now, why would that be?’
‘Because of the trust fund.’
‘Ah. So you and my brother connived to keep this all under wraps until the trust fund business was settled, is that it?’
‘We didn’t connive, Cesar.’
‘No? Well, I’m racking my brains to think of a more appropriate word.’
‘You’re not going to make this any easier for me, are you?’
‘Did you expect me to?’
‘No,’ Jude admitted. She picked up her glass and swirled it around for a while, watching the bubbles scatter on the surface, then she took a sip of the water. ‘And that’s why Freddy felt that he couldn’t confide in you.’
‘I have never tried to run my brother’s love life.’ Cesar shrugged magnanimously. ‘He has always been free to do whatever he wants to do with any woman he wants to.’
‘Just so long as whatever relationship he had remained transitory. He told me that his role was to marry a woman of independent means.’
Cesar’s mouth thinned. Yet more confidences, more whispered secrets. ‘I never laid down any rules about that.’
‘But it was understood. Cesar, there’s no use pretending that you’re not really protective about all that money in your bank account! You practically accused me of being a gold-digger the first time we met!’ She told herself to calm down and not get off the topic because she could hardly hold the torch for being transparent when she had kept Imogen’s importance to Freddy to herself. ‘Imogen doesn’t come from the sort of privileged background that you would have found acceptable. At least, that’s what Freddy thought.’
‘He should have told me so himself, man to man. He wanted the trust fund—no, wrong use of word here—needed the trust fund, presumably because the woman in question was up the spout, but instead of laying his cards on the table, he chose to approach it through a side door. In cahoots with you.’
Jude reddened uncomfortably. ‘It wasn’t like that. He knew that you wouldn’t approve. In fact, he knew that you’d probably try to intervene and of course you had the trump card because you pulled all the financial strings.’
‘Forget about whether the woman came from a privileged background or not. There must be some other reason why he never breathed a word of her existence to me.’ They could keep going round and round in circles about the upside and downside of enormous wealth, about the measures taken to protect it, but they would get nowhere because, in the end, they would have to differ. Reality meant no time for useless discussions. Cesar needed to flush out the whole story and then decide how he played it from here.
He was, he acknowledged, shaken to the core and, much as he felt concern, as any human being would, for a woman who had been through what must have been a nightmarish ordeal, he still had to think with his head.
Naturally, the woman sitting opposite him wouldn’t understand that. Anyone who’d spent her life looking for a knight in shining armour clearly had no use for her head.
‘He thought that you would write her off as being after his money because of…of the way she looks…’
Cesar sat back and finished his whisky in one long swallow. Now they were getting somewhere. ‘And how would that be?’ he drawled. ‘No, let me guess. Blonde hair? Big blue eyes? Lush, sexy body?’
‘Something like that,’ Jude mumbled. She took a deep breath and said in a rush, ‘And she worked in a nightclub. Actually, that was where they met.’ What was the point of a partial truth?
‘In a nightclub. Doing what? With her blonde hair and blue eyes and sexy body? Hmm. The books, maybe? Or a receptionist?’
‘Not quite.’ She looked at him, at his shrewd, cold, calculating, fabulous eyes and mentally winced. ‘She…um…waited on tables, so to speak.’
‘So to speak…?’
‘Well, if you must know, she was a stripper. Of sorts. Nothing crude, of course.’
‘No. Far be it from me to think anything of the sort.’ A picture was beginning to form in his head and he didn’t like it. He had no problem with Fernando dating a stripper—hell, he was a red-blooded male and had always had a taste for blondes—but what had been the stripper’s motives? How long before she forgot to take her contraceptive pill and accidentally fell pregnant?
The Notorious Gabriel DiazRuthless Tycoon, Inexperienced Mistress Page 25
