Patriot Threat. Steve Berry

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      Raúl finished the last of his coffee, placed the cup onto its saucer before leaning back in his chair and engaging Teresa’s attention.

      ‘There is something you should hear before it becomes public knowledge,’ he began quietly, and Gianna’s eyes widened in consternation.

      He wasn’t…surely? Yet on some level she realised Teresa would learn the news soon enough, and better for it to come from Raúl than for his mother to hear it secondhand.

      ‘Last night, it was assumed our attendance together indicated a reconciliation, and an announcement was made to that effect.’

      Teresa’s eyes, which had initially brightened, assumed a thoughtful expression. ‘Which is not true?’

      Raúl took hold of Gianna’s hand and threaded his fingers through her own, felt their slight pull, and tightened his grip a little. ‘It’s what I hoped we could work towards, given sufficient time.’

      Teresa turned towards Gianna. ‘How do you feel about this?’

      Oh, my. Blatant honesty wasn’t an option. Consequently she aimed for ambiguity. ‘There are some unresolved issues.’

      ‘I love you both dearly,’ Teresa offered with genuine affection. ‘Nothing would please me more than to see you reunited.’

      ‘Gracias, Madre. If you’ll excuse me?’ Raúl rose to his feet and brushed his lips to Teresa’s temple. ‘I’ll be in the office.’

      Gianna offered a slight smile, only to have her eyes widen as he crossed to her side and rested his hand briefly on her shoulder. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’

      It was such a light gesture, and one that could be interpreted merely as a kind courtesy. So why did it feel as if pink coloured her cheeks in damnably sensitive reaction?

      ‘Thank you,’ she managed with ease, and wondered if she was the only one to glimpse the momentary amusement apparent in his dark eyes before he turned and walked from the room.

      ‘There are a few items of jewellery I very much want you to have,’ Teresa began gently. ‘They were to be bequeathed to you in my will, but now that you are here I can gift them to you personally.’

      Distress clouded Gianna’s eyes, and she placed a hand on Teresa’s arm. ‘Please,’ she protested, ‘I can’t accept anything.’

      ‘Nonsense. It would mean so much to me, knowing you have them.’ She withdrew a slim jeweller’s case and set it on the table. ‘Open it, my dear.’

      ‘Teresa…’

      ‘They’re yours,’ she said simply. ‘Allow me the pleasure of gifting them to you.’

      Gianna’s fingers trembled a little as she released the clasp, and her eyes widened at the sight of a beautiful diamond bracelet in an antique setting.

      ‘The bracelet was handed to my mother by her mother, and my great-grandmother before her. A gift, I believe, to her by a member of the Spanish aristocracy.’

      ‘I can’t possibly…’

      ‘Yes, you can. There are matching ear-studs, and a dress ring.’

      Collectively, they had to be worth a small fortune, and Gianna’s features creased with concern.

      ‘You have Cristina…’

      ‘Cristina will receive her share. But these,’ she declared as she retrieved the bracelet, ‘are special, and they are for you.’

      ‘Raúl…’

      ‘The gift has his approval.’

      There was little she could say except, ‘Thank you. I shall treasure them.’

      ‘I know. The very reason I chose them to gift to you.’

      Gianna rose to her feet and bestowed a gentle kiss to Teresa’s cheek, then enfolded her in a careful hug. ‘Thank you.’ Any minute soon she’d lapse into tears.

      Perhaps Teresa sensed emotions so close to the surface, for she smiled and stood to her feet.

      ‘Let’s take a walk through the grounds. It’s a lovely day, and the gardens are so pretty at this time of year.’

      True, Gianna acknowledged as they took the lift down to ground level and stepped out into the sunshine.

      Beautifully groomed lawns, a paved walkway, attractive stone fountains, and carefully tended garden borders featuring carnations, chrysanthemums, gerbera daisies, lilies and lovely asters.

      It was pleasantly warm, the skies a clear blue, and there was a relaxing timeliness in listening to Teresa explain the history of the island.

      ‘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 СКАЧАТЬ