‘To your son!’
‘And to Lily,’ Jacob agreed heavily. ‘She couldn’t have children, you know. If she could, things might have been different.’
‘I don’t think so.’
Cleo couldn’t help the faintly bitter edge that had entered her voice now, and Jacob stretched out a hand and gripped her arm.
‘No one knows what might have happened if circumstances had been different,’ he said, holding her troubled gaze with his. ‘I’m not totally convinced Robert would have let you go to England. But after Celeste’s death, he was a changed man.’
Cleo made a helpless gesture. ‘And where did my—the Novaks fit into the equation?’
‘Well…’
Jacob released her arm and lay back in his chair. He was looking very pale and Cleo realised this must be a terrible strain on him. She half wished someone—even Lily—would interrupt them. But the breeze was all that stirred the feathery palms.
‘Henry was a decent man,’ her grandfather said at last. ‘But he was ambitious. He thought that moving to England would help him achieve the success he was striving for. He and Lucille had no children, and Lucille and Celeste had been friends. It wasn’t too difficult to persuade them to adopt her daughter.’
Cleo caught her breath. Her mother—her adoptive mother—and her real mother had been friends! That at least accounted for the faded photograph she’d found among her parents’ papers, after they were dead.
She frowned now. ‘But it must have been a drain on their resources. I mean, my father—Henry, that is—didn’t have a job to go to, did he?’
‘No.’ Jacob moistened his lips. ‘We—Robert and I—oiled the wheels of the removal for him. It was…the least we could do.’
Cleo stared at him. ‘You mean, you paid him to adopt me?’ She was dismayed. ‘Oh God. No one told me that!’
‘Don’t take it so hard, my dear.’ Jacob blew out a breath. ‘You have to understand, the Novaks were not wealthy people.’
‘Even so…’
‘They looked after you, didn’t they? They loved you, I’m sure. And, judging by the way you’ve turned out, they did a damn good job of it as well.’
Cleo shook her head, aware that her eyes burned with unshed tears. It was all too much for her to handle. First the news that she wasn’t who she’d always thought she was. And now—horror of horrors—the fact that her parents had had to be paid to adopt her.
Well, they weren’t her parents, of course, she reminded herself. She mustn’t forget that. And it was true, they had loved her and she’d loved them. But how much of their love had been fabricated? she wondered. She would never know now.
‘This has been very hard for you,’ murmured her grandfather regretfully. ‘And believe me, if I could have done it any other way, I would. But we, Robert and I, respected the Novaks’ wishes not to contact you. They wanted you to have nothing more to do with this family, and I suppose I can’t blame them for that. But when I discovered they’d been killed in that accident—’
‘All bets were off,’ said Cleo bitterly, and her grandfather bowed his head in mute acknowledgement.
There was silence for a while. The breeze continued to bring a blessed freshness to the air, and the water in the pool rippled invitingly.
Glancing at her grandfather, Cleo saw he’d closed his eyes and she wondered a little anxiously if he was all right. But his chest was rising and falling rhythmically, so she felt a little better. Probably, he’d just fallen asleep.
She wished she’d agreed to take a swim now. The idea of
submerging herself in the cool water was just as attractive as it had been before.
But she was glad they had had this conversation. At least she knew now why the Novaks had adopted her. Even if she felt as if the world as she’d known it had been destroyed.
Pushing herself to her feet, she walked to the edge of the terrace and stood looking down at the marble dolphin that continuously spouted water into the pool. She wished she could be as unfeeling as the fountain. But she was far too emotional for that.
‘Why don’t you?’ her grandfather’s voice interrupted her reverie. ‘Have that swim?’ he suggested, and she turned to gaze at him with incredulous eyes.
‘How did you know—?’
‘What you were thinking?’ His lined face creased into a grin. ‘We’re family, remember?’
Cleo shook her head. ‘I think you’re just very intuitive,’ she said.
‘Well, whatever I am, why don’t you take me at my word?’ He nodded towards the cabanas. ‘Humour me, Cleo. I’d love to watch my beautiful granddaughter enjoying herself at last.’
Cleo had her doubts, but the temptation was greater. Besides, she suspected Jacob would relax if she proved she hadn’t taken offence over what he’d told her.
And, after all, she’d wanted to know the truth, hadn’t she? She’d asked him to tell her how she’d come to be living with—with the Novaks. Not the other way about.
The cabana smelled of pine and salt water. Although it was a freshwater pool, she guessed the cabins were used by anyone who wanted to change. As Jacob had said, there was a fitted rail with a row of colourful swimsuits. Tank suits and bikinis, but not a one-piece outfit in sight.
Blowing out a breath, she examined the suits rather disappointedly. But short of abandoning the idea, she would have to choose one of them to wear.
And, after all, there was no one about—well, except Lily.
But she couldn’t see Dominic’s mother caring to watch her take a swim.
She emerged from the cabana wearing the plainest tank suit in the collection. It was a deep blue, with white piping highlighting every seam and hem.
It left a narrow wedge of skin exposed at her midriff, but that didn’t worry her. She was used to that after wearing cropped T-shirts at home.
However, the high-sided briefs made her wonder with unwilling humour if she should have taken Norah’s advice and had a Brazilian wax before taking off her clothes.
Still, it was too late now. She left the cabana, pulling the elastic band off her hair and folding her hair in half before securing it again.
With her arms upraised, her breasts were lifted and the skimpy briefs threatened to reveal more than they concealed. And it was at that precise moment she saw Dominic, across the pool, standing beside her grandfather’s chair.
T
HE
breath whooshed out of her lungs with a rush. Her body suffused with heat, yet goose pimples pebbled all over her skin.
She wanted to pull her arms down, to draw the cuffs of her briefs over her buttocks. To somehow compose herself so that he wouldn’t see how his appearance had affected her.
But for some reason, her limbs were frozen like a statue. And she thought how ironic it was that only minutes before she’d been imagining how unfeeling the marble dolphin was.
She wasn’t unfeeling; she was hot and unsteady. Her only consolation was that surely he couldn’t see the pointed hardness of her breasts outlined against the blue silk of her top.
Dominic, meanwhile, looked cool and indifferent. He was wearing another suit, although there was no formal vest or waistcoat in sight. Just Italian silk and pale grey cotton, his tie a splash of charcoal against his shirt.
She could always slip into the pool, Cleo thought, managing to bring her hands down at last, feeling the slick of moisture in her palms.
But that would be a rude and cowardly gesture. And she had no intention of proving Lily’s opinion was right.
Dominic meanwhile was wishing he’d never stepped onto the terrace. He’d seen his grandfather sitting there, alone, and he’d assumed Cleo had gone back to her room. All he’d intended was to clear the air with the old man before leaving.
But now his eyes were riveted on the young woman who’d just emerged from the cabana.
God, she was beautiful, he thought. But there was something more than beauty alone that drew him to her. Sarah was beautiful, but he had never felt this way in her presence. Never felt his stomach clenching with awareness, or the wild rush of blood to his groin.
She had a sexual appeal that was beyond anything he had experienced before. And he couldn’t help comparing his feelings to the feelings his adoptive father had had for her mother.
He could almost scent her, he mused grimly, even while he rejected the notion. She made him feel like some kind of jungle predator, his senses spinning with the thought of her naked in his arms.
Dammit!
‘Is something wrong?’
The old man was far too perceptive, and Dominic had to physically force a hollow smile to his lips.
‘I didn’t realise Cleo was here,’ he said, aware that his answer begged even more questions. He pushed his fists into his jacket pockets. ‘Well, as you’re in such good hands, I’ll be on my way.’
‘It’s a pity you can’t stay,’ remarked his grandfather sagely. ‘I know how much you like a swim in the pool.’
‘I had one earlier,’ said Dominic shortly, not best-pleased at being reminded. The brief glimpse of Cleo he’d seen on her balcony was still far too dominant in his mind.
With her hair tumbled about her shoulders, she’d drawn his eyes instinctively. In her skimpy bra and panties, she’d looked even more seductive than she did now.
‘Oh, well…’
Dominic was fairly sure the old man wasn’t deceived, but he wasn’t about to stay around to find out.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘You know I’m having
dinner with Sarah this evening. She was pretty peeved when I didn’t get over to see her last night.’
‘She’ll get over it.’ Jacob spoke absently, lifting a hand to Cleo as he spoke. ‘Just so long as you remember we’re having a special dinner here tomorrow evening. I want to introduce Cleo to our friends and neighbours. I want them to know how proud of her I am.’
Dominic stifled a sigh. ‘OK.’
‘Oh, and by the way…’ Jacob looked up at him now ‘…I never thanked you for bringing my granddaughter to me, Dom. You’ve no idea how much it means to me to have her here.’
Dominic pulled a wry face. ‘I have a pretty good idea,’ he said, squeezing his grandfather’s shoulder with genuine affection. ‘Look after yourself, old man. And don’t be overdoing things to try and impress her, yeah?’
‘Then you’re going to have to spend a little time with her yourself, Dom,’ said Jacob staunchly. ‘Introduce her to your friends. I’d like for you all to get along.’
Yeah, right.
Dominic didn’t voice the words, but he wasn’t deceived by the old man’s suggestion. Jacob knew Sarah for one would be as keen to make a friend of Cleo as his mother.
Dominic prepared for the celebratory dinner at Magnolia Hill with little enthusiasm.
He was in no hurry to spend an evening refereeing a slanging match between his grandfather and his mother. And, judging from what Lily had said when he’d spoken to her on the phone earlier, her opinion of their unexpected guest hadn’t improved with time.
He was less sure of Serena.
According to his mother, his aunt was playing a waiting game, neither applauding Cleo’s arrival, nor making any attempt to alienate the girl.
Which was Serena all over, thought Dominic wryly, sliding his arms into the sleeves of a dark blue silk shirt. She must know
that her position as her father’s hostess could be in jeopardy and she’d be holding her cards very close to her chest.
As for Cleo herself…
Dominic buttoned his shirt with impatient fingers, studying his reflection in his dressing-room mirror without liking. He really didn’t want to see her again. Not with the image of her as he’d last seen her, beside the pool, still tormenting his mind.
Of course, he’d had a valid excuse for not calling to see his grandfather the night before. The old man had known he was having dinner with Sarah, so Dominic had contented himself with a phone call instead.
Not that his dinner with Sarah had been a particularly enjoyable occasion. She’d still been brooding about his absence the previous evening, and Dominic was beginning to think their affair had run its course. Her mood had soured their meeting, and he’d been glad to get back to his own house.
He’d known Sarah had expected him to stay over. But even after she’d thrown off her petulance, he’d had enough. He doubted he could have sustained a convincing conversation. And as for going to bed with her…
Dominic closed his eyes for a moment. Then, zipping up his trousers, he emerged into the bedroom.
Sarah was standing in the middle of the floor. She had evidently been debating the merits of surprising him in either his bathroom or his dressing room, and her face fell when she saw he was fully dressed.
Dominic had half forgotten he’d invited her to the dinner party. When he’d first arrived at her house the night before, it had seemed the natural thing to do. Now, though, he was definitely regretting it…
‘You’re ready,’ she said disappointedly, and Dominic was inordinately relieved he hadn’t spent any more time than was necessary in the shower.
‘What did you expect?’ he asked, coming to bestow a light kiss on her expectant mouth. ‘We have to be there in twenty minutes.’
‘There’s no rush.’ Sarah’s lips pouted.
‘There is,’ said Dominic flatly, stepping past her to pick up his cellphone from the low table beside the king-size bed. ‘I promised Grandpa I wouldn’t be late.’
‘Oh, Grandpa!’
Sarah spoke contemptuously, and Dominic couldn’t help noticing how her lips thinned when she was agitated.
Even in her apricot sequinned mini-dress, that exposed her slim legs to advantage, and with her cap of blonde hair curling confidingly under her chin, her face had a sulky arrogance that detracted somewhat from its pale beauty.
‘Yes, Grandpa,’ agreed Dominic, not prepared to argue. He glanced towards her. ‘I assume Nelson is waiting outside. Why don’t you go ahead? I’ve got a couple of calls to make before I leave.’
‘But you’re coming with me, aren’t you?’
Sarah was indignant, and Dominic ran a weary hand round the back of his neck.
‘I thought I’d drive my own car,’ he said, aware that he was behaving badly. But, dammit, if he allowed the Cordys’ chauffeur to drive them, Sarah would expect to spend the night at Turtle Cove when they got back.
So what was wrong with that?
Everything!
Sarah got the message, as he’d known she would.
‘You’re still sulking,’ she said accusingly. ‘Just because I was a bit short with you last night—not without good reason, mind you—you’ve decided to punish me in return.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
Dominic wanted to laugh out loud at the ludicrousness of that statement.
‘I just think it would be easier if I didn’t have to rely on Nelson,’ he said. ‘Grandpa may decide he wants a post-mortem after the party is over. It will save you hanging around when I don’t know when I’ll be ready to leave.’
Sarah pursed her lips. ‘Why can’t Jacob wait until tomorrow
if he needs to discuss anything with you? For heaven’s sake, Dom, you’re in charge of the Montoya interests, not him.’
‘Don’t let Grandpa hear you saying that,’ remarked Dominic, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Anyway, it’s a good idea, isn’t it? And I am still pretty jet-lagged, you know.’
Sarah considered for a moment, and then came to rest her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m a bitch, aren’t I?’
‘No.’ Dominic’s conscience couldn’t allow her to think that. ‘Look—we can spend time together when I’m not so committed,’ he said, not altogether truthfully. He put an arm about her shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘Right now, things are a bit…hectic. I’m sorry.’
‘You mean because that girl is here,’ said Sarah peevishly. ‘I don’t know what your grandfather’s thinking of, bringing your father’s bastard daughter to Magnolia Hill.’
Dominic’s jaw hardened. ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk about her like that, Sarah,’ he said coldly. ‘You sound just like my mother. You can’t hold Cleo responsible for what her father and mother did before she was born.’
Sarah’s lips curled. ‘But can you understand why—with a sweet wife like Lily—your father could risk impregnating a woman like Celeste Dubois? I mean—it’s disgusting!’
‘Yeah, well…’
Unfortunately, Dominic could understand his father’s situation exactly.
But that was something he had no intention of acting on, so they weren’t that alike, after all.
Cleo was standing beside her grandfather’s chair when she saw Dominic come out of the house with a slim blonde young woman clinging to his arm.
It was evening, and beyond the candle-lit beauty of the terrace it was already pitch-dark. Only the muted roar of the sea reminded her of the walk she’d taken earlier, the perfumed scents of the flowers overlaid by the expensive fragrances worn by their female guests.
Cleo was already tired of keeping a smile plastered to her lips. Her grandfather—and Serena—had introduced her to so many people that she’d had no hope of remembering all their names.
She did know they were here for two reasons, however. One, to please her grandfather; and two, to get a look at Robert Montoya’s bastard.
Ever since her grandfather’s guests started arriving, she’d been aware of their interest and speculation. Aware, too, that many of the whispered conversations, taking place behind discreetly raised glasses, concerned her and her likeness not just to her mother, but to her father, as well.
Not that anyone had mentioned it to her. They’d all been very cordial, very polite. Though she couldn’t exactly call them friendly.
Which was probably due to the fact that Dominic’s mother had stood glaring at her all evening, making her attitude towards her father-in-law’s behaviour all too obvious.
‘At last,’ she heard her grandfather mutter now, and guessed Dominic’s late arrival was what he meant. ‘Where the devil has he been?’ he demanded of no one in particular. ‘I told him I wanted him to be here to welcome our guests.’
Cleo thought she had an idea why his grandson’s arrival had been delayed. The way the young woman with him was hanging on his arm was a fair indication, and she was sure they’d shared more than a car ride here.
Whatever, it was nothing to do with her, she assured herself fiercely. She’d be going back to England before too long and then she’d never see any of them again.
Not surprisingly, Dominic made a beeline for his grandfather, only stopping briefly along the way when one or other of Jacob’s guests spoke to him.
With an easy confidence Cleo could only envy, he parried all their greetings with a rueful aside or a laughing retort, leaving an admiring group of men as well as women in his wake.
Sarah, who’d been forced to let go of his arm, followed him across the terrace. In a strapless, sequin-studded mini-dress, that suited her petite figure, she was every bit as glamorous as Cleo had anticipated Dominic’s girlfriend would be.
Certainly, her outfit was far more expensive than the simple jade slip dress Cleo was wearing; her skin with that delicate look of porcelain, that made Cleo’s skin look almost dusky.
‘Hey, Grandpa!’ Dominic exclaimed when he reached them, squatting down beside the old man’s chair, his expression rueful. ‘I guess I’m in the doghouse, yeah?’
Jacob gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘That depends what you’ve got to say for yourself,’ he declared drily. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘Sarah’s car broke down,’ Dominic replied without hesitation, and Cleo felt her own jaw drop at the total incredulity of his excuse.
‘Say what?’ Jacob stared at him. ‘Can’t you do better than that, boy?’
‘It’s true,’ said Dominic, glancing up into Cleo’s doubtful face.
Obviously she didn’t believe him either, he thought, wishing it didn’t matter to him. Then, straightening, he turned to Sarah, ‘Do you want to tell them or shall I?’
‘Oh…’ Sarah pouted prettily, and Cleo wondered it if was possible to hate someone when you’d never even been introduced to them. ‘Well, Nelson—that’s my father’s chauffeur, Mr Montoya—’
‘Yes, I know who Nelson Buffett is,’ Jacob interrupted her shortly, and with a little sigh she went on.
‘Well, Nelson thought Daddy had put gas in the car and Daddy thought Nelson had.’ She spread her hands innocently. ‘It turns out, neither of them had.’
‘So you ran out of gas?’
‘Yes.’
Sarah nodded, her eyes drifting irresistibly to Cleo, and
Dominic realised he was being damnably ignorant in not introducing them.
But he was loath to do it. Cleo looked so beautiful this evening, and he was unwilling to give Sarah a chance to hurt her feelings as his mother had done.