Wedding Party Collection: Proposing To The Planner: The Argentinian's Solace. Susan Stephens

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СКАЧАТЬ honestly. She gave Holly some more back-up information to flesh out what she’d already told her. ‘So if you’re sure you’re happy to leave everything to me—’

       ‘That’s why I hired you.’

       ‘I’ll send some more notes through later today.’

       ‘Put some juicy bits in this time,’ Holly insisted with a laugh.

       ‘Not a chance,’ Maxie exclaimed, pressing her back against the cool of the wall in the hope that it might soothe her overheated body. ‘Sorry to disappoint, but this is strictly business, Holly.’

       ‘Now you’ve upset me,’ Holly protested, forcing a sob into her voice. ‘I was planning on us being sisters-in-law one day, so I’ll always have someone around to organise my life.’

       ‘Well, as that’s never going to happen—’

       ‘All right—so concentrate on my wedding for now. Just think of it as a rehearsal for your own.’

       ‘Holly,’ Maxie warned in a mock-stern tone. ‘Seriously. Stop this.’ And that was as far as she got before Holly laughed again and cut the line.

       Did Holly even know Diego? Did she think for one moment he would look at someone like Maxie? Diego had been right about Holly—she did look at the world through rose-tinted spectacles. Getting to know Diego any better than Maxie already had would be the most insanely dangerous thing she could do.

       And what if she wanted to?

       She just had to get a hold of herself, Maxie told her inner voice impatiently, wishing she didn’t feel quite so mixed up. After all the excitement on the bike what she needed was to cool down, Maxie concluded, searching for her swimming costume. She couldn’t do any more work on Holly’s wedding plans today so she might as well take some time to chill out—if that was possible while she and Diego lived under the same roof.

       Grabbing her things, she was just about to leave the room when she decided to make a quick call first. ‘Dad?’

       ‘Maxie? Is that you?’

       The fact that her father seemed to be totally switched on now, despite his earlier confusion, was incredible. ‘How do you feel?’ she asked eagerly, thrilling at the sound of his voice.

       ‘Wonderful,’ he assured her.

       ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. And don’t you worry. I’ll be back before you know it to take you out, and we’ll have a great time—’

       ‘Take me out? Take me out where? Who is this?’ her father quavered in a voice that chilled her. ‘Why do you want to take me out?’ he demanded suspiciously. ‘What have I done? You can’t blame me,’ he exclaimed on a rising note.

       And then he started yelling and swearing just like the old days, only almost worse, Maxie realised, because now he didn’t know what he was saying. She knew she should be relieved when a nurse took over the phone, but instead she just felt beaten. It took a good few steadying breaths this time before she could accept that it was her father’s illness that had beaten them both.

       ‘Everything’s fine this end,’ the nurse assured her. ‘Are you okay?’

       ‘I’m fine,’ Maxie confirmed. Fine. Fine. Fine. She was fine.

       Emotion filled the room, leaving no air to breathe. Ending the call, she gave herself a moment, waiting for the tide of emotion to pull back, as it did every time, only to regain its strength for the next onslaught. Drawing in a shaking breath, she checked she had everything she would need at the pool house. The thought of a brief spell of solitude and mindless exercise had never seemed more appealing.

      * * *

      Swimming was one thing Diego could still do really well. After years of training he had plenty of muscle power in his upper body, and if one leg worked less smoothly than the other the water supported it and he could still maintain a credible speed. And swimming was one of the very best exercises for his injury, the physios had told him. The cool of the water after the heated bike ride was certainly welcome. His regular stroke allowed him to focus his mind and plan his next move. With Maxie around the name Parrish was constantly in front of him, so it made sense to him to get to the bottom of the Peter Parrish mystery once and for all.

       All he wanted was the chance to confront the man with what he’d done—what they’d both done. He hoped then he could start looking forward—maybe one day he might even forgive himself. Performing a powerful tumble turn using just one leg, he cruised to the side just as Maxie walked through the door. He huffed a humourless laugh, guessing she’d take one look at his scars and probably faint. Even his brothers had flinched when they had first seen them. Like the painkillers he refused to take, nothing could change the past, but to have her see him stumbling and scarred felt like some sort of penance. His guilt for what had happened all those years ago required constant feeding.

       ‘Hello, Diego,’ she said, seeming surprised to see him. ‘You don’t mind if I take a swim, do you?’

       ‘Do you want to wait until I get out?’

       ‘I can, if that’s what you’d prefer?’

       ‘No problem for me—help yourself.’ He swung out of the pool on his arms and then, predictably, after his ease of movement in the water where he was weightless, he stumbled. It took him a moment to regain his balance and straighten up. As the pool water streamed from him he waited for the inevitable gasp.

       ‘Is your leg troubling you again?’ she asked, staring at it intently. ‘I expect the adrenalin from the bike ride has worn off.’ She laughed. ‘Or maybe you’ve overdone it in the pool,’ she said with more concern, glancing at the settling water.

       Brushing past her, he reached for a towel. He saw her wince when he staggered, and the next moment she had reached out to grab it for him. ‘I can pick up a towel without your help, thank you.’

       ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Diego!’ Picking the towel up, she threw it at him.

       Catching the towel knocked him off balance again, and he had to hop a couple of times before he could regain it. ‘Well?’ he demanded when she stood staring at him.

       She could see that Diego was trying to keep the pressure off his injured leg, but what else had rattled his cage? The scars, Maxie guessed. They were bad. And she could imagine he didn’t want anyone seeing them. Well, it was too late now. She could see a lot of scar tissue she was sure would loosen if treated with the proper emollients, which suggested to her that Diego had performed his exercises regularly to build back muscle power, but that he had neglected to treat the recovering skin.

       And she wasn’t here to offer a diagnosis, Maxie reminded herself firmly. She was here to swim. It was important to remain detached and businesslike, she thought to herself as she removed her sarong. So that was why her hands were trembling.

       Thankfully her swimming costume was respectable in the extreme. She went swimming to exercise, not to flaunt her body, though Diego’s lazy appraisal made her wonder why she’d bothered putting a costume on at all.

       ‘This is a fabulous pool,’ she said, giving herself an excuse to turn away. ‘Would the wedding guests be allowed to use it?’

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