Robyn Grady - Australia - Sinful Secrets - Public Marriage, Private Secrets / Every Girl's Secret Fantasy / The Heart Surgeon's Secret Child

‘I adore being here. It’s so peaceful away from the tourist area. A fresh breeze drifts in from the ocean, and there are luxury amenities to be had within easy distance. I have a few friends here, and the pace of life is less frenetic than in Madrid.’ She cast Gianna a smile. ‘There was a time when I enjoyed a busy social existence. The parties, the theatre, various charities to whom the Velez-Saldaña conglomerate chooses to lend its support. The luncheons, dinners the fundraising committees.’ She paused to point out a fabulous display of roses. ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’

Indeed they were…deep reds, brilliant yellows and luscious pinks.

‘Now I prefer a quiet life, sharing as much time as possible with my son, a few special friends…’ Teresa paused and offered a genuine smile. ‘And you,’ she added gently.

Gianna found it impossible to still the sudden lump that rose in her throat.

A short time , Raúl had imparted. A few months, at most .

The medics had to be wrong. To believe this wonderful gracious lady’s diminishing health would take her from this earth before her rightful time seemed a tragedy.

‘I admire you,’ Gianna opined gently.

Teresa didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Someone said it before me… first you cry . My dear, I did that in the beginning.’ Her dark eyes sparkled with humour. ‘It served no purpose. Instead I chose to make each day count.’ A light laugh escaped her lips. ‘And I do, believe me.’

Gianna paused and gave Teresa an impulsive hug, then stood at arm’s length. ‘I want you to know how much I care for you.’ She blinked against the threat of tears…and won. ‘You’ve always been there for me. Even in the not-so-good times. Thank you,’ she said simply.

Teresa was silent for several long seconds. ‘You are as much my daughter as if you were born to me,’ she declared gently.

Oh, dear heaven… Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes, and this time she lost as they welled and spilled over to run in slow rivulets down each cheek.

Emotional overload .

A night with Raúl in her bed, very little sleep, her mind and heart in a state of turmoil, together with Teresa’s avowal of affection it was almost too much.

‘Am I to assume the reconciliation announcement was pre-empted by circumstance?’ Teresa posed quietly.

There was no question in evading the truth. ‘Sierra was a guest last night.’

‘Ah.’ Teresa expelled a breath and linked Gianna’s arm through her own. ‘Sierra is a dangerous young woman.’

‘There was an…incident,’ Gianna revealed, reluctant to relay the hateful words Sierra had uttered.

‘Raúl chose to defend you?’

You could say that. ‘Yes.’ The terrace came vividly to mind—how it had felt to be drawn into his arms…the kiss…dear heaven, magic . As if the past three years no longer existed. For at that moment the slate had been wiped clean. There was only passion…and the need to fulfil it.

Did Teresa guess there had been an aftermath?

How could she not?

‘Your happiness must be paramount,’ Teresa said gently. ‘There are occasions in one’s life when love is tested. Believe me when I say I will support whatever decision you choose to make.’

‘Thank you.’ Any minute soon she’d resort to tears again, and that would never do.

Almost as if Teresa sensed her emotional turmoil, she impulsively caught hold of her hand. ‘Come, we will examine Miguel’s garden. He is so proud that everything is organic.’ She gave a light laugh. ‘Elena is only allowed to pick the vegetables and salad greens he permits, and then it must be beneath his eagle eye.’

They were so caught up in the moment they were unaware that Raúl had risen from behind the desk and was unobtrusively observing the scene from the office window.

Two women, a generation apart.

His mother, of average height and slim, her shoulders held straight, the wig she wore so much like her own hair there was no detectable difference.

Gianna, his wife, in direct contrast, with her petite stature, slender curves and blond hair.

Together they shared a common unbreakable bond. Linked irrespective of their connection to him.

Soon…far too soon…he would lose one of them. As heartbreaking as that would be, he had no intention of allowing Gianna to slip through his fingers.

Last night…even the thought of what they’d shared through the dark hours was enough to incite arousal. Need , he accorded wryly. Rampant primitive passion for one woman…the only woman with whom he connected on every level. Mind, body, spirit. An essential part of him. As much as the air he breathed…his life force.

Did Teresa know?

How could she not? For it was she, more than anyone else, who had witnessed his drive to expand the power he wielded in the global market during the past few years. And he’d succeeded, even surpassing his own unrealistic goals as he’d poured all his energies into winning huge contracts, exacting takeovers, restructuring in a way that had trebled the Velez-Saldaña holdings.

Yet in a way his hands were tied…loosely, he conceded. In the business arena he could afford to be ruthless…put an unnegotiable deal on the table and walk away if it wasn’t accepted.

A wry smile curved his lips. This…Gianna… was personal, requiring a vastly different strategy. One he couldn’t afford to misdirect if he wanted her to share the rest of his life.

He watched as the two women linked arms and continued along the path. He paused contemplatively until they moved out of sight, then resumed his position behind the desk, pulled up data on screen and resumed essential work.

Choosing what to wear to lunch required thoughtful consideration, Gianna posed as she checked the selection of clothes she’d brought with her.

Teresa possessed impeccable taste in everything, and her wardrobe consisted of exquisite wear designed for every possible occasion.

Dress-up time, Gianna decided as she donned a beautifully tailored dress in deep aqua, added matching stilettos, then tended to her make-up, fixed her hair in a smooth twist and attached a slender gold chain and gold studs to each ear. A spritz of her favourite perfume, and she was good to go.

Miguel delivered them to a beautiful mansion in Portals Vells, set in landscaped gardens with spectacular views of the sea.

Adriana Ramirez de Arroyo greeted Teresa with fond affection and turned towards Gianna.

‘My dear, how lovely to see you. Do come and join the other guests in the sala .’

The room encompassed nine guests…women whose wealth and social status rivalled that of their hostess. Three of them Gianna recalled having met at one charity function or another in Madrid.

Introductions completed, Gianna accepted a light orange fruit spritzer in an exquisite crystal goblet, took a sip, and found it to be delicious.

Genuine friends, mostly similar in age, with a long history together, Gianna realised as they chatted and laughed prior to moving into a beautiful formal dining room and being seated for lunch. Pleasant, charming women, content in their own skin, with no apparent need for pretence of any kind.

No fewer than five courses were served by staff, each dish a visual and epicurean feast. Light instrumental music provided an unobtrusive accompaniment, and it proved delightful to witness Teresa’s pleasure.

‘Teresa adores you,’ Adriana imparted gently as they lingered over coffee. ‘It is good you are here to spend time with her.’

‘She’s a very special lady.’ The words came straight from Gianna’s heart.

‘We’ve known each other for many years,’ Adriana relayed. ‘Shared time together, watched our respective children grow, succeed and marry.’ A soft smile curved her lips. ‘Teresa will be overjoyed with news of your reconciliation with Raúl. She loves you.’