Mistress of La Rioja. Sharon Kendrick

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СКАЧАТЬ Luis de la Camara would never look at her in that way again. As the cousin of his wife-to-be, she was much too close to home to play around with. But a man who looked like that just days before his wedding would play around. Sophie recognised that with a blinding certainty and she hated him for it.

      ‘Well, we spent all our holidays together—so we’re more like sisters, really!’ Miranda smiled her wide, infectious smile. ‘Sophie—we’re getting married! Isn’t it wonderful? Luis has asked me to marry him!’

      Sophie shuddered as she remembered the jealousy which had ripped through her. To be jealous of your own cousin! But she had forced a smile and hugged Miranda and given Luis her hand, all too aware of the warm tingle as their flesh touched. And he had bent and raised her fingertips to his mouth, in an old-fashioned and courtly style—faithful to the manner of the Spanish aristocrat he was, his black eyes seeming to mock and to tantalise her in tandem.

      They had gone back to her flat and drunk champagne and chinked glasses and toasted the future. But while Miranda had fizzed with life the Spaniard had sat watchfully, choosing his words with care, looking so right and yet so wrong in Sophie’s flat and her world. Because he was Miranda’s, she had reminded herself. Miranda’s.

      With an effort she pushed away the disturbing memories and forced herself back to the present. Concentrating on the image of the child in the photo instead of the potent sexuality of his father.

      At least Teodoro’s face still had the softness of innocence and she could see little of the indomitable nature which so defined Luis.

      She wondered what would happen to Teodoro now—whether his mother’s memory would be allowed to fade until it was so distant that it was almost forgotten. Sophie bit her lip. What chance would he have of learning about his mother and the land of his mother’s birth?

      And suddenly a sense of duty dulled some of the raw edge of sorrow. Luis shall not take him from us entirely, she vowed. I will fight for the opportunity to get to know him as if he were my own! And he will know me, too. With a trembling hand, she buzzed through to Narell to ask her to book her flight to Spain.

      And then she washed her face, dragged a comb through her hair and called Liam Hollingsworth into the office, who took one look at her and started.

      ‘What the hell have you been doing to yourself?’ he demanded. ‘Are you OK?’

      Her voice still trembling slightly, she said, ‘Not really, no.’

      ‘For God’s sake, Sophie—what’s the matter? What’s happened to you?’

      She framed the unbelievable words. ‘It’s my cousin, Miranda,’ she told him. ‘She’s been…killed in an accident. I’ve…I’ve got to go and break the news to my grandmother—’

      ‘Oh, my God.’

      ‘And th-then fly on to Spain to the funeral.’

      ‘Oh, honey!’ He was round her side of the desk in an instant, staring down at her with a look of dazed concern on his face as she began to cry. ‘Honey!’

      ‘Oh, Liam!’ she sobbed.

      ‘Come here,’ he said gently, and put his arms around her.

      She allowed herself to cry a little more, but after a couple of moments she broke away and went to stand by the window, staring out at a world which no longer looked the same place. ‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said dully.

      ‘What happened?’ he asked.

      ‘I know very few facts. Just that she was in a car crash. I was too…too shocked to ask for any details, I guess.’

      ‘How did you find out?’

      ‘Her husband, Luis—he rang me from Spain to tell me.’

      He frowned. ‘That’s the millionaire guy—the one you can’t stand?’

      ‘That’s the one,’ she said tightly, thinking how much more complex the truth was than a simple case of not being able to stand the man.

      ‘And when’s the funeral?’

      ‘Monday. I’m flying out on Sunday.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, Liam, I don’t know if I can bear it.’

      He nodded understandingly. ‘Well, it’ll be hard, but at least after that you need never meet again.’

      Sophie shook her head. ‘But it isn’t that easy. I wish it was. I can’t just spirit Luis out of my life, however much I might want to. Don’t forget—he’s the father of my nephew, and I feel I owe it to Miranda, and to Teodoro…’ The words seemed to come from an unknown place deep inside her. ‘To fight for him.’

      Liam stared at her. ‘Fight for him?’ he echoed. ‘You surely don’t mean you’re going to apply for custody, Sophie? You wouldn’t stand a hope in hell. Not if he’s as rich and as powerful as you say he is. And he is the father.’

      Tiredly, Sophie rubbed at her temples. ‘I don’t know what I mean—other than knowing I have to get out there. To let Teo know that he has relatives, and that we care.’

      ‘And once the funeral is over? Will you come straight back?’

      She met his eyes. ‘I don’t know. I can’t commit to a time scale. But I’ll still be able to do some work— I can always use my laptop, and you’ll be able to manage here without me for a bit, won’t you?’

      ‘Of course we can manage,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ll just miss you, that’s all.’

      ‘Thanks,’ she whispered, and, gulping back more tears, she began to pack her briefcase.

      She and Liam went way back.

      They had met at university and discovered a shared sense of humour coupled with an ambition to make lots of money while having fun. Which had been how the Hollingsworth-Mills advertising agency had come about. Now they were tipped for the top. A combination of enthusiasm and employing bright young staff with similar high-reaching goals meant that Sophie and Liam were poised on the brink of unforeseen success.

      But what did any of that matter at a time like this?

      Feeling too shaky to drive safely, she took the train to Norfolk, her heart weeping for her grandmother as she walked up the path of her Norfolk country cottage, where she and Miranda had spent part of their school holidays, every summer without fail. They had walked for miles on the vast, empty beaches which were close by, and climbed trees and fed the fat ducks on the pond with pieces of bread.

      And Sophie had watched as Miranda’s beauty had become something more than breathtaking. Had seen for herself the bewitching power which that beauty gave her over men…

      She rang the old-fashioned jingly-jangly doorbell, praying for the right words to tell her grandmother what had happened, and knowing that there were none which would not hurt.

      But Felicity Mills was almost eighty, and there was little of life she hadn’t seen. She took one look at Sophie’s face. ‘It’s bad news,’ she said flatly.

      ‘Yes. It’s Miranda—’

      ‘She’s СКАЧАТЬ