A Spanish Vengeance Part 7

CHAPTER NINE.

CALM, at all costs she had to remain calm, Lisa repeated to herself as she trod the upper corridors of the ancient monastery, heading for the stone stairs that would take her down to the magnificent great hall.

There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation why that photograph was in Diego's bedroom, though she couldn't for the life of her think of one. But she loved him, didn't she, even if he turned out to be the selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d, ruthless and cruel, that was being conjured up by all these unwanted suspicions.

Some women-herself probably first among them-were their own worst enemies! She wished she could turn love off, like a tap, but knew she couldn't.

She could have married dear, safe, trustworthy Ben and spent her life on an even keel, avoiding the shattering peaks and troughs of being madly in love with a man she couldn't trust as far as she could throw him. She desperately wanted to trust him but how could she?

Pausing on the first floor landing to allow her racing heartbeat to decelerate, she leant against the cool stone window mullion. She was going to be sensible and calm about this, not rush in hurling accusations which might be unfounded.

She was no longer a naive eighteen-year-old, fresh from a convent schoolroom, she reminded herself snippily. They were both, as Diego had stated, older and wiser. She would have to try harder to believe in him, in spite of the haunting memories of what had happened all those years ago.

She knew she'd been a darn sight longer than the half an hour Diego had given her. Nevertheless she lingered for a further few moments, her attention drawn, now by a bright yellow low-slung sports car parked at a skewed angle on the gravelled approach at the front of the building.

Diego had a visitor, she deduced on a flash of irritation. What a time to pick! The planned confrontation would have to be put on hold. Which might not be such a bad thing, she reflected on consideration, beginning the final descent to the ground floor. It would give her more time to cool off and recover from the shock of finding that woman's framed photograph in Diego's bedroom.

She had no appet.i.te for breakfast, usually taken in the courtyard, but if there was any of Rosa's excellent coffee left and still drinkable she could certainly do with a cup.

Suddenly the idea of sitting in the peaceful seclusion of the courtyard strongly appealed. Breathing in the warm scented air and listening to the melodic sound of the doves, the fountain playing into its stone basin, the rustle of the soft breeze in the leaves of the old fig tree while she waited for Diego to deal with his visitor was exactly what she needed.

Such tranquillity would surely help her to come at the situation from an adult direction?

The quickest way to her objective was through the outer door in the library, rather than the french doors leading out of the small salon she normally used. Funny how she was finally learning her way around this maze of a building at precisely the time she might have to leave nursing a badly broken heart.

But she wouldn't think about that. Not yet anyway. It was far too negative, she informed herself tartly as she pushed open the heavy oak door. First she had to hear what Diego had to say. She might have got entirely the wrong end of the stick, which begged the question that she might have badly overreacted five years ago.

And that was the last sensible thought she had because what Diego had to say on the subject of the silver-framed photograph became academic when she saw that the subject herself was sitting at the table beneath the fig tree with floods of tears running down her beautiful face. Diego was seated opposite, leaning forward, holding her hands in both of his, talking to her, his actual words indecipherable from this distance, but the tone of his voice soothing and quite definitely placatory.

Something he said must have angered the beautiful young brunette. It happened so quickly that Lisa, rigid with the shock of what she was witnessing, could only flinch with disbelief as the other woman sprang to her feet, bristling with anger, her voice hysterically shrill. The only word she was able to pick out of the tirade of Spanish was Perfidia!-and wasn't perfidious one of the words she'd used herself to describe the man who'd betrayed her with this very woman five years ago?

Lisa's eyes frosted over, her stomach tying itself in knots, as she watched Diego immediately get to his feet and capture the other woman's gesticulating hands. Then, with a few murmured words-silver tongued, lying excuses?-he pulled her into his arms and held her there, tenderly pressing her glossy dark head against his wide shoulder, rocking her gently back and forth until gradually moving her towards the door to the house.

As they disappeared inside Lisa pressed her knuckles against her mouth to stop herself from crying out. She had no idea what was going on but from where she was standing those two were very far from being casual acquaintances! The suspicion that the other woman was either his fiancee or his wife returned with a force that made her feel ill.

The only way to discover the truth was to confront them and ask. And the only way to get her leaden legs to move was to try to a.s.sure herself that this was just some misunderstanding, something that looked definitely iffy on the surface, hiding a perfectly innocent explanation. After last night it just had to be that. She wasn't going to go on torturing herself by thinking anything else. Well, was she?

Shaking inside, Lisa found herself in the great hall. The ancient stone walls seemed to freeze her right through to her bones instead of creating the usual welcome cool ambience. The silence lay like a heavy weight on her shoulders. Now she was about to begin her search for Diego and the other woman she didn't think she had the courage.

If what she couldn't help suspecting turned out to be the truth she didn't think she could bear it. Not after last night when his love-making had made her feel like the most beautiful, desired and loved woman in the world.

Adrenalin pumping, she almost leapt out of her skin when Rosa, soft-footed in her comfy old plimsolls, appeared at her shoulder. Her pretty features had concern and condemnation written all over them. Her normal smile was notably absent. Disconcerted, Lisa told herself not to be a coward; she had to get this sorted out, of course she did. She stated, 'I'm looking for the senor. Do you know where he is?'

A quick frown clouded the big brown eyes. 'I am to take to them coffee and cognac and leave-solo-' She struggled with her rudimentary English. 'You leave also. Is bad thing when the beautiful Isabella find husband have other woman. Much explosions! The senor needs to be privado. So you leave also?'

Leave. It was the only option, Lisa decided hollowly as Rosa disappeared to meet Diego's request for coffee and brandy. Barely able to move for the feverish pain that invaded every inch of her body, she dragged herself upstairs to the rooms she'd been given.

To allow herself to be conned by Diego once had been a dreadful mistake. To allow it to happen twice should be a capital offence!

That she hadn't known he was married was no excuse, she castigated herself wildly as she closed the door to her bedroom behind her and sagged weakly back against it, nausea a coiled knot in her stomach. She should have d.a.m.ned well asked.

She should have known. A man so gorgeous, sinfully s.e.xy and rotten rich would have been snapped up years ago.

Isabella as Rosa had named her-had obviously discovered that he had a woman holed up here with him in his self-admitted private hideout, the place the family rarely visited, where his sins, for sins they were, could be hidden.

But someone must have blown the whistle-Rosa, through a sense of family loyalty?-and the wronged wife had appeared to confront him. Demanding explanations was out of the question; she saw that now, she thought on a wave of draining exhaustion. His poor wife had enough to contend with without coming face to face with Diego's latest bit on the side.

Feeling dreadful for her part in this sordid shambles, Lisa walked unsteadily to the hanging cupboard to drag her clothes out. Just the things she'd brought with her-she never wanted to set eyes on the expensive gear he'd bought her again.

In a minute she'd change out of the pretty skirt and s.e.xy top she was wearing. But first she had to make sure she had everything she needed. Her head was in a dreadful daze, her brain consumed by her awful discovery. If she didn't take herself firmly in hand she could well land up at the airport without the essentials, hysterical and not knowing what the h.e.l.l she thought she was doing!

Tipping the contents of her handbag out on to the bed beside her suitcase and the untidy heap of clothing she'd tossed there, she sifted through what the average male would cla.s.sify as junk-combs, lipstick, tissues, sundry keys, a battered appointments diary, a clutch of old letters and postcards from friends-and located her pa.s.sport and her wallet. She would use her credit card to take care of the flight home but, unfortunately, she would need to beg a lift to the airport.

Would Manuel be willing to drive her? There shouldn't be too much difficulty about that, she decided sickly. Hadn't Rosa insisted she leave? The Spanish woman might be disgusted by her but she would make sure her husband facilitated that sensible outcome, if only to see the back of her.

Her fingers shaky, she carefully slotted her pa.s.sport and wallet into the zipped compartment where she would know where they were, and was beginning to shovel everything else back any old how when Diego walked in.

His beautiful face was grim. His wife had obviously been giving him a hard time. Serve him right! Lisa thought, trying to ignore the stab of pain that pierced her already mangled heart. She hadn't wanted to set eyes on him again but now that she had she wasn't going to let him see how devastatingly upset she was.

'What the h.e.l.l are you doing?'

'What does it look like?' Lisa muttered fiercely, wanting to strangle him. 'And there's no need to snap. It's your fault if your wife's been reading the riot act, so don't take it out on me!' She grabbed the packet of tissues and something rolled off the bed. 'Rosa, in her wisdom, told me to leave so that's what I'm doing. Eminently sensible under the circ.u.mstances, wouldn't you say?'

Straightening abruptly after automatically stooping to retrieve the object that had dropped from the bed, Diego drew a sharp breath in through his teeth. Black brows meeting, he demanded, 'Run that by me again. Why the h.e.l.l should Rosa tell you to leave? By what right? And what wife? I don't have a wife!'

He sent her a dark, exasperated glance and Lisa sank down on the bed and vented a huge sigh that seemed to come up from the soles of her feet.

So that was the way he was going to play it. Lying creep! With the patron saint of liars and deceivers on his side-or patron devil, more likely-he must have persuaded the hysterical Isabella to return to whence she had come, in double quick time. Made her believe there was no other woman holed up here with him, that he was here alone to commune with nature, or some such other unlikely story.

But she wasn't that gullible. No way! 'Right,' she said through gritted teeth and shot to her feet. 'Wait here,' she growled and stalked out of the room, red flags of furious disgust flying on her cheeks as she headed for his rooms, hearing his firm footsteps following as he disregarded her instruction and came after her.

She'd wanted a few minutes on her own, away from the man she was tempted to do serious damage to. But at least this way she'd have to stay a few minutes less in this place.

Swooping into his bedroom, she homed in on the framed photograph and whipped round to face him.

He towered over her, bemus.e.m.e.nt coupled with the irritation of a man reaching the end of his tether writ large on his too-handsome features.

'This-' Lisa stabbed a forefinger at the lovely smiling face 'is the woman I saw you with in Marbella on that last evening. You were all over each other. Even Sophie said you were a real steamy couple!'

He was looming over her, his expression that of a man who had been hit over the head with a rock, but that didn't fool her, not for a single instant. 'And I found this' again a stab at the picture of the wronged Isabella 'this morning after you'd spent the night making love to me!'

When this hatefully necessary confrontation was over, she'd probably be stupid enough to cry herself to sleep every night for a year but right at this moment anger was fuelling her blistering attack.

'I came looking for you to ask for an explanation of your obvious on-going relationship with her and there she was, having hysterics, and you werewere-' Words almost failed her in her furious need to lash out at him, but she ploughed on raggedly, 'Cuddling her and stroking her...' Her voice rose to an anguished wall. 'And Rosa told me that Isabella had exploded because she had found out you had another woman. And then Rosa told me to leave.'

Struggling to make sense of the disjointed statements that were issuing from that lushly desirable mouth was like wading through a thick fog and then emerging into bright sunlight. Diego's mouth curved with immense inner satisfaction. She was behaving like a jealous virago. Bravo! It had to mean she cared for him!

With one hand he reached out to take Isabella's portrait from her and became aware of something digging into the palm of the other. He opened his fist on the glitter of the hoop of tiny diamonds he'd seen her wearing on the night of her engagement party.

He dragged in a breath. It didn't mean a thing. He held it out to her. Lisa, her face going bright scarlet, s.n.a.t.c.hed it and felt awful. Ben had told her to keep it as a memento of their affection and what had she done? Carelessly dropped it into the messy and cavernous depths of her handbag!

Knowing Ben it wouldn't be worth much materially, but it was worth a great deal as a token of friendship and abiding affection that had been in place for most of their lives.

Cursing herself for not taking proper care of it, she slipped it on her finger for safe-keeping and Diego, watching from suddenly narrowed eyes, told himself that her wearing another man's ring didn't mean anything, either. She was almost incandescent with rage and fierily beautiful with it and now that everything had slotted into place he couldn't blame her.

As she made to stalk past him, out of the room and, presumably, given her a.s.sumptions, out of his life, Diego clamped both hands on her slight, stiffly held shoulders and swung her round to face him.

Inky-blue eyes dealt him a slaying glance and Diego grinned. Under the circ.u.mstances it probably wasn't the wisest thing to do but he couldn't help it.

She was already bristling like a wild kitten and at any moment she would use her claws!

As a small hand rose to slap the grin off his face he captured it, slid an arm around her tiny waist and deftly deposited her on the bed, quickly joining her.

'Will you stop mauling me?' Her full lower lip jutted petulantly and the temper had gone out of her voice, replaced by grumpiness. Her breathing was short and rapid, Diego noted on a tidal wave of tenderness. And something else, he decided, as desire steamed in his blood. Was she, too, remembering what had happened for them last night in this bed? She looked fantastic. His fingers itched to undo those tiny b.u.t.tons down the front of the s.e.xy top she was wearing, to slide beneath that gauzy skirt, to claim her as his own for all time because he point-blank refused to spend the rest of his life without her...

'Mauling you isn't what I had in mind,' he affirmed thickly and felt her shudder. He stopped there, hauling himself back to the present situation.

Briskly clearing his throat, he got back on track. 'From your verbal a.s.saults I think I've worked out what's sent you up like a volcano.' His eyes, as they rested on her defensively p.r.i.c.kly profile, went soft with compa.s.sion. He ached to take her in his arms and make her believe he loved her, had never stopped, but he had to sort out this mess first.

'Isabella the girl you obviously saw me with in Marbella, the girl in the photograph is my sister. That last night, when I'd asked to meet your friends, I'd planned to explain who I was and introduce you to the only member of my family who was in Spain at that time-my parents being on an extended visit to relatives in South America.'

Disconcerted by that statement, Lisa sneaked a sideways glance. He looked really sincere. But apparent sincerity was the stock-in-trade of the con artist, wasn't it?

Huffing out a sharp breath, she returned her gaze to the uncontentious consideration of her feet. She wanted to believe him and sitting beside him on this bed wasn't the best idea in the world.

'Isabella and I met up in Marbella. She insisted on going with me when I chose the ring I intended to give you. And if you saw us and decided she was all over me, well, I guess you could have got that impression. Lisa-' he cupped her chin and turned her to face him '-my sister has been a drama queen since the day of her birth, completely over the top! She was so excited that her adored brother had gone and fallen in love, was about to get engaged, and she was determined to celebrate every inch of the way.'

He felt his bones melt as her soft lips quivered, the deep blue pools of her eyes misting over. His voice was unsteady as he mentally begged her to believe in him implicitly. 'And that same headstrong nature had her setting out in the early hours of this morning to find me, vowing she'd left Cesar, her big-shot lawyer husband, because he was having an affair with his newly appointed personal a.s.sistant.

'Utter nonsense, of course.' The ball of his thumb gently stroked away a glistening tear drop. 'I calmed her down and phoned Cesar, who was worried witless. Apparently, a so-called friend of Isabella's had told her that Cesar had been seen in one of Seville's grandest restaurants with his dazzlingly lovely new a.s.sistant when he'd told her he was working late. Well, that was exactly what he was doing, having a working dinner with an important client. His a.s.sistant was there to take notes. Nothing else. Cesar adores Isabella. The idea of cheating on her would never cross his mind.'

'That's what I did all those years ago, didn't I? Overreact. I spoiled what we had. I decided you were a penniless waiter, the sort who preys on well-heeled females for what you could get out of them,' Lisa confessed mournfully after a long beat of silence, feeling really guilty for the bad names she'd called him inside her head and sick at heart at the thought of what she'd done.

She sniffed miserably. Five years ago this fantastic man had loved her, had chosen a ring to make their engagement official and she'd ruined everything, thought the very worst of him, not giving him the opportunity to say a word, just opening her big mouth and sending him away.

'Don't cry.' Diego got to his feet to reach for a tissue from the box on the night table. Wordlessly, he handed it to her and stood over her, watching as she dabbed her eyes then pulled the soggy tissue into tiny little pieces. She was the picture of misery. His heart kicked with compa.s.sion. He knew exactly what she was feeling. He, too, savagely regretted the misunderstandings of five years ago, the barren wasted years.

But the moment pa.s.sed. Brooding over what couldn't be changed was a fool's game. Only the future mattered. As soon as Isabella was safely on her way back to Seville he would have all the time in the world to convince this adored, delicately lovely creature that he loved her more than life itself and ask her to be his wife-go down on his knees and beg if necessary! But until then... 'Can you remember how Rosa asked you to leave?' he enquired briskly of the silky crown of her drooping head. It was the one thing that was still puzzling him. His staff weren't in the habit of telling his guests what to do.

Lisa's thoughts were still on the way her awful behaviour had driven this fantastic man away. Not only that of five years ago but this morning too. He was proud and honourable; he wouldn't relish the idea of being thought of, firstly, as some sort of gigolo and then as a cheating, sneaky husband. Last night she had really believed he cared for her, that they could put the past behind them and start over. Right now he would be despising her, or thinking she was completely insane. He would want to see the back of her as soon as possible.

'You can't remember?' Diego asked with a decisive bite.

Lisa shivered. He was out of patience with her and she couldn't blame him. 'Oh, that.' She recalled his question and mumbled, almost word for word, what Rosa had said, then gasped with surprise as his strong hands fastened around her waist and pulled her upright.

'Rosa has some difficulties with the English language. I'd asked her to bring coffee and brandy and then make sure that Isabella and I were left alone, and to pa.s.s that message on to you with my apologies. I needed time to quieten her down and contact Cesar. She didn't mean you were to leave the house.'

Lisa nodded, helplessly acknowledging that she was pretty d.a.m.n good at getting her wires crossed. And driving a huge wedge between herself and the man she loved to distraction.

'Right,' Diego said flatly, for the first time in his life wishing his sister hadn't followed the habit of a lifetime and come running to him whenever something happened to upset her. He wanted her out of the way, well out of it, to begin his campaign to get Lisa to agree to marry him. 'Let's get you looking less like a wet weekend, then go and keep Isabella company.'

Impersonal hands smoothed her hair off her face while he was telling her, 'Cesar's already on his way to collect her. He's bringing one of his junior clerks to drive her car back. He refuses to let her get behind the wheel when she's in a state, which,' he admitted drily, 'she mostly is. Either deliriously happy, high as a kite, or down in the rock-bottom dumps.'

His mouth tightened as he tucked the wandering hem of her top back into the waistband of her skirt. The touch of her skin scalded him. Dio! He didn't know how he stopped himself from taking her in his arms and smothering her with burning kisses. He would make up for it later, when they were alone.

Lisa noted the compression of his beautiful mouth and the chilling fact that there was no reaction to the small intimacy. She bit down hard on her lower lip to stop herself from weeping. The magic they'd recaptured last night had clearly gone and was lost for ever, swept away by her not trusting him and thinking the sort of things about him that no man could be expected to ever forgive.

'In the meantime we could all use some breakfast.' He made a terse after-you gesture in the direction of the door and Lisa exited, trying not to look as down as she felt.

Watching the unconsciously sensual sway of her hips as she walked out of the room Diego smothered a groan. Part of him wanted to haul her back and open his heart to her, confess that he couldn't rest until she'd given her word that she would spend the rest of her life with him.

But the more sensible part insisted that he would need more than a few rushed minutes to convince her that despite his sordid and shamefully dishonourable attempts at revenge he did truly love her.

A decision he would later deeply regret.

CHAPTER TEN.

THEY found Isabella sprawled out on a padded sun lounger on the terrace. As Diego's shadow fell across her she half opened her dark sleepy eyes and murmured plaintively, 'Tengo mucha hambre!'

'Speak English, cara. We have a guest.'

There was no mistaking the affection in his tone, in stark contrast to the snippy way he'd been speaking to her, Lisa recognised wretchedly.

'We are all hungry, breakfast has been delayed for too long,' he chided gently as he took his sister's slim hands and helped her to her feet. 'Isabella, meet Lisa Pennington,' he introduced smoothly, his smile for his sister.

Feeling like a spare part, Lisa met Isabella's wide smile and returned it feebly. There was no sign now of that earlier hysterical anger, just a warm look of curiosity on that vivacious face.

'Hola! Lo siento-I forgot-no Spanish! You are English, yes?' She tucked her arm through Diego's, her curvaceous body in flame-coloured linen pants topped by a white silk blouse gracefully relaxed as she gave Lisa a warm a.s.sessment. 'You are the secret one, my brother, to hide your guest here away from prying eyes!'

Her sultry eyes, glinting with mischief, found Lisa's. 'So tell me, how did you do it? Diego's so off women it's painful. It's lovely to see he can be as human as the rest of us-and wicked, too! Tell me, is my big brother truly wicked?"

'Lisa's father is a recently acquired business partner. She is part of the same enterprise,' Diego cut in repressively. 'You said you were hungry.' He curtly dismissed the subject of Lisa's status. 'So why don't we eat?'

Give Isabella the merest hint of a romance in the offing and she would be merciless, as he remembered only too well. The outrageous teasing and non-stop questions when he'd invited her to Marbella to meet his intended fiancee five years ago had tried his patience to the limits. He and Lisa had to sort things out for themselves. And they needed to be alone.

'Oh, just business,' Isabella said disappointedly as Diego steered her back towards the house. 'How horribly boring.'

Lisa followed on leaden legs. Diego was cutting her out of his life, that much was painfully obvious. But what else could she have expected after the things she'd accused him of? His Spanish pride wouldn't forget such insults to his integrity.

She had woken to a day that had seemed to be so full of promise, sure that they could reclaim the joyous, loving happiness they had both thought they'd lost. Now there would be no lazing about on the beach he had spoken of, no making love, no talking, no way of discovering if he really did still care for her.