Rebecca Winters - Rafael's Convenient Proposal

“That’s too long to go without,” Lianor chastised her, in the nicest possible way of course.

Mallory’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Now that we have that settled, tell me about your brother’s bad news.”

In a few minutes she’d put Mallory in the picture.

“Maria’s virtually irreplaceable,” Lianor confided further. “We all love her, and Rafael has depended on her so totally, I’m worried. Of course he has Ines, his housekeeper. He can rely on her to help him with my niece, but it’s only a temporary solution.

“I have to face the fact that word of Maria’s fatal illness changed his whole world today. As for Apolonia, the loss will be devastating when she finds out Maria isn’t coming back.”

Mallory could only agree.

“My closest girlfriend from childhood has recently come out of an ugly divorce from her Spanish husband. She’s back from Madrid and needs something to absorb her time right now. Rafael has always known Joana and liked her. So has Apolonia. I’m thinking if she came to help, it would be good for all three of them.”

“You could be right,” Mallory said. “Given time, they might even fall in love. How nice would that be. Your best friend becoming your sister-in-law.”

“Don’t think I didn’t used to fantasize about it. However that was a long time ago, before Rafael fell for Isabell and dashed both our dreams.”

“You mean yours and Joana’s.”

“Yes. She was crazy about my brother.”

Somehow that news didn’t surprise Mallory, not if he was as remarkable as Lianor—in all the ways that really counted.

At this point they’d reached the coast, a breathtaking sight this time of night. The smell of the ocean intoxicated her. Waves crashed against the sand, creating froth that stood out in the darkness. She could hear the pounding surf, that familiar sound she craved almost as much as she craved air to breathe. She didn’t know how much she’d missed it until now.

They rounded a curve on the winding highway. Suddenly she let out a cry. There was a baroque palace on a cliff in the distance, lit up as if it hung in the sky. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing is real,” she whispered. “What’s the name of it, Lianor?”

“Rafael and I call it home, but the tourists know it as the Palacio D’Afonso.”

Speechless, Mallory’s head turned, unable to do anything but stare at her friend.

“It was one of several small palaces built by King Pedro the Second of Portugal. Some historians claim he had it built and named it in honor of his brother King Afonso who was paralyzed and died at the age of eleven. Others say he built it out of guilt after deposing Afonso and exiling him to the Azores while Pedro was acting regent.”

“Ooh—that doesn’t sound good.”

Lianor chuckled. “By the time my great-grandfather inherited it, the cost of keeping it up forced the family to turn it into a hotel so it wouldn’t pass from the D’Afonso line. Historians still argue whether it began through one of Pedro’s illicit liaisons with a courtesan. We’ll never know for sure.

“After our parents died at sea, Rafael was the one who made it into the prosperous resort it is today. Because of his genius, our family now owns half a dozen small castles and palaces in various parts of the country which have been converted into tourist resorts we call pousadas.”

To the average onlooker, the D’Afonso family would seem to be living a fairy-tale existence. But like all human beings, they had their own share of private tragedies to deal with.

“Did you ever ask your brother if you could manage one of them?” Mallory couldn’t help asking.

“No. I’ve always wanted to do my own thing.”

“We’re kindred spirits, Lianor.”

“I know. That’s what’s got Rafael worried.”

“Now you’re making me nervous.”

“Please don’t be. I’ll have you know he has made arrangements for you to stay in the best suite. Just last week it was occupied by the President of Mexico and his wife.”

Mallory shook her head. “I don’t want or need special treatment.”

“Maybe not, but you’re going to get it. I know how hard you’ve worked since law school. It’s time for you to be pampered, so sit back and enjoy it.”

A chuckle escaped Mallory’s throat. “When you put it like that…”

“Thank you for not arguing with me. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

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