A Spanish Vengeance Part 9

'Can I come in?' Sophie, after a moment's hesitation, thrust herself into the room and two seconds later Lisa was being grabbed in a bear hug. 'I'm so sorry, Lise! What I said on the phone was hateful! Will you ever forgive me?T 'Forget it,' Lisa said with the little breath that was left in her lungs. 'I have. You were upset.

'No, I was hateful!' Sophie denied vehemently, releasing her, standing back a pace, her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g.

'I was upset-distraught, more like it-but that didn't mean I had to lay a guilt trip on my best friend!'

Best friend!

The first warmth she'd felt since she'd woken this morning stole round her heart. Lisa gave Sophie a gentle shove that deposited her at the end of the bed and plonked herself down on the pillows, her legs tucked beneath her. Just like old times, gossiping half the night away, she thought with a clutch of grat.i.tude at her heartstrings.

'When I thought my twin was going to die and Dad asked me to get the number from your father and phone you and tell you Ben had been asking for you, I simply let rip and lashed out. I was about to lose my brother, or so I thought, and you were swarming around in the sun with your Spanish hunk. It was unfair and wrong and I'll never be able to apologise enough.

'I was fed up with you when you broke your engagement.' Sophie gave a noisy sniff. 'I'd wanted you to be sort of cemented in our family. But Ben did explain at the time, after you'd decided to take off for Spain, that you and he had been going to settle for a dead boring marriage-my description, not his. No pa.s.sion.' She was twisting the hem of her sweater between her fingers, her eyes downcast. 'Then you met up with the only real love of your life again and bingo!' She raised red-rimmed apologetic eyes. 'I'm crazy in love with James, so I do understand what happened.'

'Shut up!' Lisa said gently, swallowing a lump in her throat. At least she had her best friend back and that was a lot to be thankful for.

Sophie asked, 'How's it going with your Spanish hunk? We thought he might have been coming with you. We got the guest room ready, just in case. Mum was determined to get you to stay with us here and not be alone in our miserable little flat.' She gave a tiny sigh. 'I expect you'll be haring back as soon as Ben's out of danger.'

Lisa firmly changed the painful subject. 'Never mind all that. Let's talk about you and James. Tell me, how's the house-hunting going? Is everything still on track for a midsummer wedding?'

No way could she discuss what had happened between her and Diego. Maybe she'd be able to confide in her friend later, when the pain of it was a little less savage. But not now.

It was two days before Ben was allowed visitors for longer than a few minutes. On the third morning he'd been moved out of ICU and into a private room and his parents and his twin visited for half an hour and reported good progress. Confined to bed with a cage over the lower half of his body, he was getting bored and cranky which, Honor said happily, meant he was well on the mend.

The atmosphere lightened dramatically and when Lisa left for the early evening session Sophie and Honor were preparing a celebratory meal of roast beef and Arthur's favourite apple pie. Her father had made daily phone calls to the Claytons to keep up to speed over Ben's progress. He'd spoken to her once, just to say he'd heard she was back and hoped Raffacani wasn't too put out by her departure. He hadn't suggested they meet. Lisa hadn't expected him to and for the first time in her life had no room in her heart for disappointment.

Lisa approached Ben's bedside with some trepidation. She couldn't imagine why she had been uppermost in his thoughts when he'd thought he might be dying. But she kept a smile on her face and it widened when she announced with genuine pleasure, 'You're looking a whole heap better than I thought you would.' She bent to kiss his cheek, laying the flowers she'd brought on his bedside locker.

'You shouldn't have bothered.' He indicated the bright bouquets in vases on every available surface. 'You only needed to bring yourself.'

'Right.' Lisa took her time locating a chair and bringing it to the bedside. In extremis, he had called out for her and he was going to tell her why. She dreaded hearing he had been deeply in love with her all along but had done the decent thing and stood aside when he rightly concluded she was in love with another man. Truly, she had never wanted to hurt him.

He had never given the smallest sign that that was the case, though. She would never have agreed to marry him if she'd thought for one moment that he was madly in love with her. But some people were experts when it came to hiding their feelings.

'Well, I'm here now,' she said quietly as she sank down on the chair. 'So why did you ask to see me when you thought you might die'?'

He shot her a shame-faced look and too quickly denied thinking any such thing. 'Who said anything about dying? Other people might have been weeping and wailing and thinking the worst but I knew I'd be OK,' he said, not really convincingly. 'Got a lot to live for, haven't I?' His voice strengthened with relief as he informed her, 'I only got a smashed up leg. They've put metal pins in it the rest of the injuries were pretty small beer, apparently, so I was luckier than I thought I was. No, the timing might have been a bit off, under the fraught circ.u.mstances, but I'd been going to ask your father for the phone number. I hadn't got around to it and it was playing on my mind.'

His hand reached for hers and gave it a friendly pat. 'I'd been worrying about you and I wanted to find out if you were OK, that Raffacani was treating you right. I had a pretty good idea of your feelings for him, but I was a bit unsure about him. I meana guy who would tell you, Come and live with me, or else-it made me more uneasy the more I thought about it, I guess.'

He gave her a wry smile. 'I've got too used to looking out for you. And the habit sticks. I wanted to let you know not to be afraid of coming back if things weren't working out. I would make the Dads give you a job on the staff again so you wouldn't need to be afraid of being out of work. And, knowing you, I knew you'd be feeling you wouldn't be welcome. I admit the folks were cut up when I told them the engagement was off. I explained why-though not about Raffacani's threat to cancel all his advertising and they came round. I wanted to let you know that we'd all welcome you back, if the need arose.'

'You're a good friend, Ben. The best,' Lisa said huskily, her eyes filling emotionally. She blinked rapidly and noticed his increasing pallor with a stab of guilt for allowing him to say so much. 'I should go; you're beginning to look tired. I've kept you talking for too long. I'll visit tomorrow if it's OK with the family.'

She got to her feet. As well as tiring him she knew that the natural progression from what he'd already said, bless him, would be to question her about her relationship with Diego.

Her non-existent relationship.

She wasn't yet up to discussing it with anyone, not even her dearest friends, without making a complete and utter fool of herself.

But Ben twisted his head on the pillow. 'Stay. I get so bored! They won't come to throw you out for at least another ten minutes.'

He looked so aggrieved she didn't have the heart to leave. But she had to keep the conversation away from her ruined relationship with Diego somehow.

So, sinking back on the chair again, she said quickly, 'Then you've got ten minutes to explain why you've started to show boy racer tendencies. Sophie and I always complained that you drove like an old granny on her way to the shops! No one can understand why you did what you did.'

Ben pulled a face, clearly embarra.s.sed. 'It won't happen again, believe me! At the time of my accident my mind was away on another planet.'

On another planet? She said softly, 'That's not like you, Ben. You always have your feet well grounded.'

'Don't I know it!' His face turned fiercely red, alarming Lisa until he told her, 'I never thought I'd go and fall in love, but one look at her did it. It shook me rigid!'

'Ben!' Happiness for him brought the first real smile for days to her lips. 'Good for you! Who is she?"

'Sarah Davies.' He spoke the name with hushed reverence. 'You won't know her, of course. She's one of the high-flyers Raffacani brought in. She edits the gardening section-we're broadening out, not just concentrating on way out fashions very few could wear or afford and society functions of no real interest to the majority of readers.'

'And does she feel the same?' Lisa steeled herself to ask. The last thing she wanted was to see him hurt. A man who up until now had staunchly pooh-poohed the idea of romantic, pa.s.sionate love could be hurt so much more than a man who had been regularly falling in and out of that state since his teens.

Ben shrugged, wincing as a minor chest injury protested. 'How would I know? Though when I finally plucked up the courage to ask her to have dinner with me she did look pleased. It was to have been the night of the accident, would you believe? My mind just wasn't on what I was doing. I was all knotted up, wondering how I should play it-no practice in that sort of thing, as you know. And there I was, knocked sideways by a big white van! I guessed I'd well and truly blown it, until this came.' He tipped his head in the direction of a get well card prominently displayed on the locker. 'Read what she's put and tell me what you think.'

'That she's holding you to that dinner date and hoping to visit you as soon as she gets the nod,' Lisa affirmed after reading the cheery message. She got up and put the card in his hands. 'I don't think you've blown it. In fact I'm sure you haven't.'

Leaning over, she put a careful kiss on his forehead. 'And, as for how to play it-don't even think about it. Just follow your heart and do what it tells you.

Diego paced the terrace, the moon-silvered stone walls of the ancient monastery behind him offering no refuge from his tortured thoughts.

There had been no closure. Their brief time together had been meant to heal old wounds but had opened up new ones, wounds-so raw and painful he could neither sleep at night nor rest by day.

He'd told himself he could put it all behind him, forget her, get on with his life. It hadn't worked. He didn't want to return to his home in Jerez, or get back to work, or stay on here.

He wanted to be with her. With Lisa. He needed her. Whatever her faults, he had to have her in his life, convince her he could make her happier than Clayton ever could.

And to accomplish that he had to do something about it. He had to go and get her, make her see they were meant to be together. It had been fated ever since he'd lifted her to her feet on that mountain track five years ago and first looked into her beautiful eyes. He'd been a lost man ever since and was d.a.m.ned well going to find himself again. With her. Only her.

Swinging on his heel, he stalked back into his favourite home, took the stairs two at a time and began to pack the few things he'd need. First thing tomorrow he'd be on the first available flight to London.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE flocks of b.u.t.terflies in Lisa's stomach began to beat their fluttery wings as the hired Seat climbed to the upper reaches of the twisty mountain road.

She was doing the right thing. She was! She had to hang on to that belief or she would find herself turning round in the next pull-in she came to and heading straight back to Seville.

A detailed map of the area was spread out on the pa.s.senger seat but she'd only really needed it at the start of the journey from the airport. It was as if she had an internal homing device that was drawing her back towards the man she loved.

Easing the car round a particularly tight bend she recognised the glimpse of spectacular scenery-the mountainside dropping to a deep river valley, the huddle of white-washed houses far below enclosed by the verdant greenery of vines, citrus trees and olives.

As the road widened slightly it began to descend and the b.u.t.terflies cranked up their annoying activities, her neck and shoulders ached with tension and, despite the car's air-conditioning system, Lisa began to sweat. Another mile, maybe two, and she would reach the monastery. And Diego.

But she was doing the right thing!

Reaching the Claytons' Holland Park home after visiting Ben yesterday evening, the words she'd said to him had echoed with startling, inescapable clarity inside her head.

'Just follow your heart and do what it tells you.'

She had stood as still as a stone on the doorstep, listening. And her heart had told her to return to Spain, find Diego, and tell him how much she loved him. The voice was clear, insistent.

Her body had glowed-every vein, every nerve end, every muscle and sinew responding to the inescapable tug of him, as if he were calling to her from his remote mountain hideaway.

Now she was seeing the almost mystical experience of the evening before in a more grounded way. Diego might not be still at the old monastery. But Rosa and Manuel would be able to tell her where she could find him; they would give her the address of his home near Jerez and his place of business.

And she knew that when she eventually ran him to earth her admission of love might well leave him cold; he might simply tell her he wasn't interested. That was something she would have to accept.

Even so, she was doing the right thing. There was a smooth, untroubled logic to it. Things left undone, important things, didn't bring a peaceful mind,. Ben had shown her that.

Soon after his accident, when he'd thought he might not make it, he'd said he needed to see her. He'd wanted to make sure she was all right, to tell her to come back home if things weren't working out for her, that she'd be welcome, no hard feelings. He hadn't wanted to leave the a.s.surances unsaid.

And life was notoriously precarious. If something happened either to her or, heaven forbid, Diego, before she'd put the record straight there would be no peace, no closure.

Tears were wetting her face when she eventually switched off the ignition on the forecourt. Briefly closing her eyes, she gave herself a few moments to quieten her mind before mopping the dampness away with a tissue, exiting and stretching her cramped muscles. She took a deep breath and walked steadily over the sun-baked slabs towards the main door.

Her mouth ran dry and her heart banged savagely against her ribs. Would he refuse to let her cross the threshold? Refuse to listen to what she had to say? Had she come on a fool's errand?

Don't even think about it-don't accept defeat until it's inevitable. Think of something else, or don't think at all!

The late afternoon sun burned through the thin cotton of her blouse. But at this time of year the evenings in the mountains would be decidedly chilly. Had she packed a sweater? Did it matter?

'Senorita!' The great door swung open and Rosa's pretty face was wreathed in a beaming smile. Lisa gulped and did her best to return it.

'I heard the car. So it is you-you stay?'

Lisa tucked a heavy strand of hair behind her ear. took a steadying breath. 'I'm not sure.' And wasn't that the truth-she could be thrown out in two seconds flat. 'But I'd like to speak to the senor. If you'll tell him I'm here, please.'

'Come-' Rosa ushered her into the cool vastness of the great hall. 'I fetch Manuel. He has the good English. I have not so good.'

Not a bad idea at that, Lisa thought as she lowered herself into a heavily carved chair beneath the tall window flanking the door, wishing the flutter of internal nerves wasn't making her feel quite so nauseous. There had been too many misunderstandings in the past; they could all do without any more. Though she'd have thought that a simple request to tell Diego she was here would have been easy enough to understand.

By the time Manuel put in an appearance Lisa was pacing the floor, mentally climbing walls, about to go in search of Diego herself because this waiting, this not knowing what her reception would be was killing her.

Twirling on her heels she faced him, nerves pattering. Soon now she would see her love 'Rosa tells me you have come back from England to meet with the senor.' His swarthy features were sympathetic. 'But he is not here. He left very early this morning before it was light.'

'I see.' The tension drained out of her, quickly replaced by a dull sense of frustration. Nothing to get in a panic about, though. She had half-expected it, mentally prepared herself for this eventuality, hadn't she?

She'd missed him by a whisker.

'Then perhaps you could give me addresses of where I might find him?'

He seemed to consider her request for a long moment, then grinned. 'Perhaps I do better! Rosa is making coffee for you. She will bring it to small salon and I will make the phone calls. It is better to know for sure he is home-he might have gone anywhere in the world-his business affairs take him to many places.'

Sickening thought!

Impulsively, Lisa reached out to touch his arm as he began to leave her, her eyes unknowingly full of stark inky appeal, the hand that clutched his arm shaking just a little. 'I'd love coffee. It's been a long drive. But may I have it in the kitchen with Rosa?' She didn't want to be alone to agonise over the very real possibility that Diego was even now on his way to the other side of the world.

'Certainly.' His dark eyes were kind. 'Come with me. You drink coffee and I use the telephone.'

The main kitchen was cavernous with a vaulted stone and timber ceiling and a huge open fireplace. Nevertheless the atmosphere was surprisingly homelike, with hams, strings of onions and dried herbs hanging from the ma.s.sive beams, the aroma of coffee drifting like a blessing.

Manuel said something to his wife in rapid Spanish as she turned from the huge gleaming range, a cafetiere in one hand.

'Ciertamente!' Rosa smiled in response to whatever her husband had said, setting the coffee on an immense wooden table near a bowl of yellow roses, plucked, Lisa guessed, from the many blooms that perfumed the courtyard. 'All of us will drink! You will please to sit, senorita?'

Taking the chair indicated, Lisa sat and closed her tired eyes for a moment, the quiet, comforting atmosphere helping her to wind down just a little. Rosa fetched three bowl-shaped coffee mugs and a plate of sticky almond pastries and Manuel consulted a list pinned up by the wall-mounted phone and began at last to dial.

Drinking the welcome coffee and queasily refusing the pastries, Lisa wished she could understand Manuel's side of the conversations that ensued as he dialled at least three separate numbers. Diego was obviously proving harder to track down than she had hoped.

A point punched home when he walked back to take his mug of coffee from the table, shrugging his shoulders fatalistically.

'I called the senor's office first. He has not been there. His sister hasn't seen him since she left here with her husband and his housekeeper gave us the only clue we have.' He spread his free hand as if to indicate the clue was sadly worthless. 'The senor phoned to his home at mid-morning to say to cancel the dinner he had arranged to give his parents next week. Is all. He didn't say where he was going, only that he had no idea when he would return.'

It was another perfect morning but Lisa couldn't begin to appreciate it. Something inside her had died. Diego could be anywhere in the world. True, she'd asked Manuel to ask Diego to get in touch with her when he saw him next. But she wasn't holding out much hope that he would bother to respond. He was getting on with his busy, successful life. He didn't need her in it.

Yesterday, the afternoon had been drawing to a close, the shadows lengthening on the mountains, when she'd thanked Rosa and Manuel for their help, hardly able to hide her misery, and made to leave.

But Manuel had firmly argued against her driving back to Seville, pointing out that she had already had a long journey from England, that it would soon be dark, and Rosa could quickly make the bed up in the room she'd had before. It would be no trouble, he'd insisted.

So she'd stayed the night, giving in because she had no energy left to fight for her own way-her need to get away from this beautiful place where she had been, so very briefly, happy and hopeful. Staying overnight had been sensible, she supposed, but she wished she hadn't slept late after the initial long restless hours.

Hurriedly, she stripped her bed and repacked the few overnight things she'd needed and carried the case down to the hired car.

She'd already said her goodbyes and thanks to Rosa and Manuel and while she'd been eating the very late breakfast the pretty housekeeper had insisted on making for her, Manuel had offered to try again to track Diego down for her.

He could telephone the senor's parents; why hadn't he thought of that before'? There was a slim hope. The senor didn't answer to them for what he was doing but they might know where he was. Though he doubted it. Hadn't the senor's housekeeper had to give them his message? Which meant he hadn't spoken to them himself, didn't it? Nevertheless, for the senorita's sake, he would try.

But the phone was dead. A problem with the line; it often happened, the Spaniard said with a shrug of resignation. So even the final slim hope of making contact with him was gone. There was nothing to keep her here.

Starting the engine, she said her silent farewells. There would be no closure and she'd just have to live with that. Get on with her life, just as he was doing.

Diego forced himself to slow down as the road twisted sharply, the wheels spinning on the loose surface. He wasn't suicidal; he was merely in a desperate hurry !

He vented a vehement string of oaths, his hard profile clenched. Everything was conspiring against him. He remembered what he'd told Lisa five years ago. He'd said his love had no ending and had meant it. Still did.

But finding her and proving it, demanding that she give him a chance to make her understand that she could find happiness as his wife-not Clayton's-was turning out to be a problem of nightmare proportions.

It had been mid-afternoon yesterday when he'd arrived at her flat. No answer. A phone call to her father had given him the information that she was staying with the Claytons in Holland Park, just until Ben was out of danger. The older man had sounded defensive, almost as if he were reluctant to let him know where his daughter was or what she was doing.