Carole Mortimer - Mediterranean Seduction

Cassandra arched brows that were several shades darker than her hair. ‘Do you blame me?’

Enrique shrugged, and with sudden urgency she added, ‘I’ve always wondered, what did you tell Antonio?’

Enrique shook his head. ‘Why should I tell you? He obviously did not believe me.’

‘No.’ She looked doubtful. ‘He never said anything about it to me.’

‘Why would he?’ Enrique was harsh. ‘My brother, too, was an honourable man.’

‘Too?’ she mocked him. ‘I hope you’re not including yourself in that statement.’

‘I meant my father,’ he retorted coldly. ‘And my nephew David, at least understands that family means something.’

‘David has a family.’ Cassandra quivered in remembrance of why they were here. ‘An English family. Who love him.’

‘He also has a Spanish family who would love him just as much,’ replied Enrique inflexibly. ‘Oh, this is getting us nowhere.’ He raised his hand and summoned the bartender, but although Cassandra knew a moment’s panic that he had decided not to continue their conversation, he merely ordered two more glasses of wine.

The bartender, who brought his order, looked a little dismayed to see that they hadn’t touched the tapas, but he held his tongue. Cassandra guessed he had taken one look at Enrique’s dark face and decided now was not the time to make comments. Instead, he sauntered away with a decidedly defiant swagger.

‘Now,’ said Enrique, when they were alone again, ‘I suggest we try to find some common ground here.’ He took a breath. ‘We are agreed, are we not, that David is Antonio’s son, yes?’ And, getting no argument from Cassandra, he continued, ‘Very well. It is therefore a question of deciding how and when I am going to break this news to my father.’

Cassandra’s throat closed up. ‘And then what?’ She had the sensation of things moving too fast for her here, of them getting out of control. And she wasn’t altogether sure what she could do to stop them. ‘We have to go back to England in a couple of days.’

‘No.’ Enrique was very definite about that. ‘You will not be going back to England until this affair is settled. And, just to put the matter straight, I have to tell you that before you and the boy appeared yesterday I spoke with Señor Movida at the pensión. He was kind enough to tell me that your booking is for two weeks. Do we understand one another?’

Cassandra’s mouth quivered. ‘You think you’ve got it all worked out, don’t you?’ She rubbed the end of her nose with a trembling finger. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

‘Oh, Cassandra.’ Now he sounded weary. ‘You must have known how it would be. David wants to know his family—all his family. Do you honestly think you have the right to deny him that?’

Cassandra didn’t know what to think any more. Her attempt to get away from Punta del Lobo, to return to England without Enrique’s knowledge, seemed pointless now. The de Montoyas knew of David’s existence. A few hundred miles would not prove any obstacle if they wanted to see him. Besides, it was David’s life, David’s decision. His letter had proved that. So did she have the right to prevent him from meeting his grandfather if that was what he wanted?

‘Will you take me back to the pensión?’ she asked tightly, her doubts weighing heavily on her conscience. ‘David will be back soon.’

‘And what will you tell him?’

Cassandra gave him a bitter look. ‘Anything but the truth,’ she said coldly. ‘Can we go?’

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.