Sofia hadn’t finished. ‘His father was a rich pig, powerful and arrogant. Hard. I ran away from him. I had not thought Felipe was just the same, but I can see now he is.’
‘Is Felipe really so powerful?’
‘Very. The family has a massive fortune and Felipe manages most of it now my grandmother is old. She wants him to marry and has been parading aristocratic Catalonian women in front of him for years.’
Cleo refused to think about that for the moment.
‘And she is dying, your cousin said.’
Sofia’s beautiful eyes clouded. ‘Sí. But I don’t want to believe him.’
Cleo had seen his face when he’d told her. She believed him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
FELIPE WALKED AWAY from his cousin’s room and stabbed the elevator button with controlled force.
Cleo Wren.
The woman he had seduced, and been seduced by. He had risen from her bed before dawn yesterday. He had stood outside her flat and looked up at her window like a lovelorn fool. He, who never looked back at his rare, brief liaisons. He was still shocked at himself, picking up an unknown woman and sleeping with her. Or rather not sleeping. It had been as if he could not get enough of her. What was it about Cleo that had made her so irresistible to him? Now was not the time to find out.
His mind had drifted, too, during his busy day on Sunday, and he had looked back at the night before with sweetness and yearned, in the few brief moments he’d had to himself, to see her again. But no time had landed in his lap.
He had known he could not stay in Australia and he did her no favours by extending their connection. Responsibilities had slapped him from the time he’d left her door.
To his disgust, being near her again still nipped at his skin like static electricity and drew his eye with instant recognition of the beat between them.
Memories pounded him again of that night. Those brilliant blue eyes, and the flash of matching colour below her chin. He remembered slowly pulling the blue scarf from that sweet throat.
It felt like only an hour ago and he could still feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. The shock of actually seeing her again had been almost as great as that on her own face when she had seen him.
And he’d had prior knowledge that she would be there. Had sanctioned it with the agency.
There could surely be only one midwife called Cleo in the area. He had immediately recognised the name when Sofia had mentioned her, had put the pieces together, and at least had had a few hours’ incredulous warning.
She’d refused to shake his hand.
He knew why. He had known they would meet again and not warned her. The unexpected trust he’d been gifted on Saturday night had been shattered and he felt its loss keenly.
Further entanglement would only hurt them both. And be professionally unsound.
For now, sadly, he feared the affront to Cleo had been greater than he’d intended from an albeit incredible and mutually sharing one-night encounter. Now they both would have to put such thoughts and actions behind them.
Forget.
He almost laughed out loud at that.
Her sweetness could never be forgotten. He’d thought distance would help there but even that was not to be now.
If there was to be any time to explore further what lay between them, it would be after his cousin’s safe arrival in Spain, and definitely after Cleo’s fortnight in his employ was complete.
It would be best if the time didn’t come at all, for he feared to create an imbalanced disaster between two people who lived on opposite sides of the world and came from completely different cultures. Her life was one of freedom of choice, while his was filled with duties and responsibilities. Yet for one night she had allowed him to be the dancer, the lover, the man, and not the doctor of terminally ill patients, the evil cousin, the director of many companies or the head of his ancient family.
With Cleo he could be just Felipe.
His driver, a small, dark, impassive-faced man, opened the door of the car as he strode towards it. ‘Take me to the hotel, Carlos. I will remain there until they call. Then proceed to Sofia’s flat.’ He tossed the keys to his man. ‘You will acquire my cousin’s luggage, which should be packed by now, and stow it in the boot and then return for me.’
‘Sí, Don Felipe.’
Felipe climbed into the rear of the vehicle and closed his eyes as he rested his head back against the seat.
Yet it wasn’t the enormous list of tasks he needed to complete before they left today that occupied his mind. It was the almost overpowering urge to sweep the midwife up in his arms and hold her against his chest. To thank God he’d found her again.
Fifteen minutes ago everything in his power had been used to stop that action.
She had seemed immune to him, yet he’d sensed she was angry and hurt behind her so-professional face. The watchful eyes and smooth lines of Cleo’s cool face had remained outwardly calm and he’d been unable to read anything. But she’d refused to touch his hand.
Yes, she was an independent woman who stood for everything Diego loved about the liberated Australian society. A society’s laxness his grandmother was so sure had ruined his cousin Sofia for ever.
When all this was over, and Cleo had returned back to her own country, he doubted he would ever forget the place he had met this woman.
For now, he must not allow himself to think of Cleo, because his loyalties lay elsewhere with his work, his family and his responsibilities. He had to continue to callously walk away.
No wonder she wouldn’t allow his touch.
Yes, it was his family he should be thinking of. Sofia’s sudden engagement should have overridden his daily life and his hospice work. It was his responsibility to watch over the decisions of his family and his grandmother’s large estate, and he had failed his cousin.
So he had come to make matters right.
And had found Cleo.
Fate was definitely laughing at him. He hoped not at her, too. Because she didn’t deserve it.
He grimaced at his grandmother’s insistence that he had to be the one to come for Sofia. She knew how much he’d disliked leaving her now the cancer was back. Though there was truth in the fact his cousin would have refused to go with Diego, which was the solution Felipe had initially suggested.
They’d be back in Spain in twenty-four hours and they would be bringing with them an adorable newborn great-granddaughter and a smile to his grandmother’s face.
They would also be bringing Cleo Wren and what the ramifications of that would be only time would tell.
CHAPTER EIGHT
REFUSING TO BE distracted by thoughts of a certain man, and with the discussion of the needs of babies and the cares of women who had just given birth, Cleo and Sofia regained their warm understanding of each other. And Cleo practised her Spanish. Though apparently Spanish was different to Catalan.
Baby Isabella had taken to breastfeeding with gusto but the baby’s idea of settling after her feed still needed some work.
When Cleo glanced at her watch she saw that their allocated sixty minutes had already passed.
Dark strands of Sofia’s hair had fallen across her forehead and she brushed them back petulantly as Cleo reminded her of the time.
‘Should you ring him?’
‘If I must. But I prefer to text.’
‘The sooner we leave here, the sooner you and Isabella can find some routine again in your new home. That’s important.’
The young woman nodded and pulled out her phone.
When she’d finished stabbing at the screen she threw the object onto the side table as if it annoyed her.
Cleo studied her thoughtfully. ‘Why don’t you relax in the shower while we wait for your cousin to arrive? I can watch Isabella and you will feel fresh for the flight.’
‘Indeed. You are a powerful lioness, after all.’ They smiled at each other.
‘When you are ready, I will go as I need to close up my flat before he tells me I am not prepared and scoops me up from the footpath,’ Cleo said.
Sofia looked up from assembling her bathroom bag. She smiled over her shoulder. ‘You think he will scoop you up?’
‘Like a big black falcon coming in to land.’ Cleo laughed.
Sofia said, ‘I like you.’
‘And I like you. We will have a very pleasant time settling you back in Spain.’
Sofia raised her hand to her throat and closed her eyes briefly. ‘As long as they do not try to marry me off to someone suitable when we get there. Like his father tried to do. I may not wish to stay then.’
‘Then you will go elsewhere.’ Cleo saw the worry on her face and felt for her. ‘I will help you with whatever you need.’
‘Yes.’ Sofia nodded thoughtfully. ‘I am surprisingly reassured by that.’ And turned away to enter the bathroom.
Cleo watched her go. ‘I’m glad.’ She just hoped she could hold up her end of the bargain. When all was said and done she would be under the authority of an influential and prominent family, in a foreign country with a man who had known her intimately.
She just hoped nobody else knew about that.
And she’d be alone to deal with it all.
No. She wasn’t really alone. There was phone access to Sir Reginald and Angie if she needed it.
* * *
When Sofia reappeared from the bathroom with impeccable make-up, in a comfortable dress of divine cut with front buttons for easy breastfeeding, it coincided with the tall form of Don Felipe framed imposingly in the doorway.
Cleo decided he did it on purpose and chose to show she wasn’t impressed. ‘Ah. My lift has arrived.’
The ‘lift’ blinked at her dismissive tone and she smiled sweetly. It seemed the disadvantage at which she found herself whenever she was with him brought out the worst in her.
He tilted his head, an amused glint in his eye. ‘My driver will transport you.’
‘Have I offended you?’ Damn it. She would not be overawed that he was her employer. And that that was all he could be.
‘Me? Offended? Why would you think that?’ Then he smiled sardonically. ‘I’ve told him where you live.’ His mocking drawl made her eyes narrow and she turned back to her client, hoping she hadn’t heard the exchange.
But in all honesty she shouldn’t have baited him first.
Thankfully, Sofia was busy with Isabella, who had woken and was gazing wide-eyed up at her mother. Sofia could not hear or see anything except her daughter at that moment. Thank goodness.
‘I’ll see you at the airport, Sofia. Do we need to stop at the shops on my way home? I know we have baby supplies for the flight but is there anything else you wish for?’
Sofia looked thoughtful. ‘This is Australia. Vegemite and Tim Tam biscuits?’
‘I’ll get some at the airport. I saw a huge stand there last week.’
Don Felipe lifted his head. ‘We will not go through that part of the airport.’
‘Oh.’ More sweet smiling. ‘Well, then, I’ll ask your driver to stop on the way to my flat.’
Sofia shot her cousin a smug look. ‘Gràcies, Cleo.’
‘De nada, Sofia.’ The equivalent of You’re welcome in Spanish fitted so perfectly there.
They smiled at each other. Felipe looked on impassively at the rapport between the two women and she hoped he felt outgunned.
Cleo waved. ‘I’d better go.’ She glanced at the man at the door. ‘I have a few things to finalise.’
‘Sí. One hour’s worth,’ he said dryly.
She nodded coolly as she walked past him.
‘While we wait for you, I will ensure Sofia has been discharged by the doctors.’
Cleo had already checked but she said nothing. It would stop him following her.
* * *
Exactly an hour after she’d been dropped off at her flat a black car pulled up beside her on the footpath. The large male in the rear seat alighted to tower over her. Her one small cabin bag made Felipe’s eyebrows rise.
‘You travel lightly.’
‘Yes.’ She stepped back as if checking to see if the door looked shut behind her but really to increase the space between them. ‘A useful skill in my profession.’
The driver had scurried to the rear door and was holding it open. Felipe returned to the other side of the car.
There were four large seats in the back, Sofia and Isabella in her safety bassinet in the two rear-facing seats.
That left her to sit next to Felipe facing forward. She wondered if she could ask to sit in the front with the driver. She called herself a coward under her breath and slid in.
Once seated and settled she concentrated on Sofia. ‘Did you have any issues strapping Isabella into the safety harness?’
The young woman rolled her eyes. ‘My cousin took control of that.’
‘I have done this before,’ Felipe stated impassively as his driver shut Cleo’s door.
‘Ah. You have children, Don Felipe?’
A narrow gaze. ‘No.’
He’d already told her he was unmarried but he had kept plenty of other things from her. Perhaps he had a brood of children by other women he wasn’t married to? Probably not. She smiled at her own silliness. Cleo checked the baby. ‘She looks nicely settled.’
Not how the mother looked, Cleo thought. Mutinous described that better. Obviously there’d been some dispute between the cousins.
Barely any words passed between the occupants during the trip to the airport but the closeness of Felipe’s hip to hers brought a warmth to her belly that she tried unsuccessfully to banish. Sitting next to a stranger she’d had passionate sex with pinged right outside her comfort zone. She didn’t know where to look.
His strong, muscular thigh next to hers reminded her how easily he’d carried her to her bedroom.
Those long, elegant fingers reminded her he’d stroked every inch of her.
While bulging biceps that almost touched her own reminded her how he had leaned over her with the weight of his hard, muscular body on those very arms.
Good grief, this was crazy thinking! What on earth was she doing, working for this man?
By the time they arrived at the airport Cleo hoped the flight would be less fraught with tension or they would all have dull pains in the middle of their foreheads when they landed in Barcelona.
They passed swiftly through customs and returned to the car to drive across the tarmac to their aircraft. This was Cleo’s first private flight, though she had escorted patients in smaller commercial aircraft.
Once on board, the cabin crew met Felipe and Sofia with warmth and respect, and kindness towards Cleo, who thought again how little they needed her with all this back-up available. But then she thought of Sofia’s vulnerability and was glad she’d come.
Felipe had disappeared almost immediately after they came on board and stated he would see them later.
She wasn’t sure if he was working or resting but he proved true to his word as they prepared for take-off.
Which made everything much more relaxed at the rear of the aircraft.
As they flew into the night the baby travelled well, soothed by the slight rocking of the aircraft near the tail, and they’d managed perfect privacy for Sofia to feed Isabella and then get some sleep, which helped everyone.
Cleo had even managed four straight hours of sleep herself, in the reclining seat adjacent to her charge. The delightful cabin stewardess had promised to wake Cleo if Isabella stirred, and had proved wonderfully reliable in her promise.
&n
bsp; After the next feed Cleo tucked mother and baby in to sleep once more but found herself awake and restless.
Peppermint tea. Her tongue felt glued to the top of her mouth. She’d kill for peppermint tea.
The stewardess had disappeared and Cleo wasn’t a bell-pusher so she walked quietly towards the curtains ahead. When she pulled aside the curtain, instead of a galley for meal preparations, as she expected, she found a small circular lounge room and Felipe.
He looked up. Black eyes and black lashes, a flash of remembered heat in his harsh gaze and then it was gone, though his mouth had softened. Apparently whatever business he’d been concentrating on hadn’t been fun.
She touched her hair. Smoothed the bump over the band that held it free of her face. Okay, she thought when the strands had been tidied, she looked as professional as possible.
The look he gave her was anything but professional. Though, to be fair, he hadn’t expected her.
And she’d just waltzed in. Heat rushed to her cheeks but before she could pull back, he stood.
‘Come in. I owe you an apology.’
She wanted to turn her back on him. Hide her hot face at least. Of course, as an employee, she didn’t do any of those things. She lifted her chin instead. Smiled slightly, although it felt like it needed to crack through layers of cement before it broke through. ‘I’m just looking for peppermint tea. Not an apology.’
‘How like the Cleo I met. So straight to the point,’ he mused.
That irked her but her voice stayed level. ‘How would you know what I’m like? We barely spoke.’
The heat returned to his eyes and his slow smile, though not disrespectful, brought heat flooding back like a blowtorch against her skin.
‘Let’s not talk again, then.’ There, there was that softer, more playful Felipe she remembered.
Unwanted memories flooded her and her fingers clenched by her sides. ‘No, we can’t do that. Your cousin is my client. She has appraised me of your many influential connections, and I am just the nurse.’
Peripherally she saw those beautiful shoulders rise and fall in a careless shrug but she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. He waggled his brows. ‘My family is old and distinguished, yes, but you will never be just a nurse.’
Second Chance in Barcelona Page 6
