Patriot Threat. Steve Berry
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Gianna’s eyes, and she placed a hand on Teresa’s arm. ‘Please,’ she protested, ‘I can’t accept anything.’
‘Nonsense. It would mean so much to me, knowing you have them.’ She withdrew a slim jeweller’s case and set it on the table. ‘Open it, my dear.’
‘Teresa…’
‘They’re yours,’ she said simply. ‘Allow me the pleasure of gifting them to you.’
Gianna’s fingers trembled a little as she released the clasp, and her eyes widened at the sight of a beautiful diamond bracelet in an antique setting.
‘The bracelet was handed to my mother by her mother, and my great-grandmother before her. A gift, I believe, to her by a member of the Spanish aristocracy.’
‘I can’t possibly…’
‘Yes, you can. There are matching ear-studs, and a dress ring.’
Collectively, they had to be worth a small fortune, and Gianna’s features creased with concern.
‘You have Cristina…’
‘Cristina will receive her share. But these,’ she declared as she retrieved the bracelet, ‘are special, and they are for you.’
‘Raúl…’
‘The gift has his approval.’
There was little she could say except, ‘Thank you. I shall treasure them.’
‘I know. The very reason I chose them to gift to you.’
Gianna rose to her feet and bestowed a gentle kiss to Teresa’s cheek, then enfolded her in a careful hug. ‘Thank you.’ Any minute soon she’d lapse into tears.
Perhaps Teresa sensed emotions so close to the surface, for she smiled and stood to her feet.
‘Let’s take a walk through the grounds. It’s a lovely day, and the gardens are so pretty at this time of year.’
True, Gianna acknowledged as they took the lift down to ground level and stepped out into the sunshine.
Beautifully groomed lawns, a paved walkway, attractive stone fountains, and carefully tended garden borders featuring carnations, chrysanthemums, gerbera daisies, lilies and lovely asters.
It was pleasantly warm, the skies a clear blue, and there was a relaxing timeliness in listening to Teresa explain the history of the island.
‘I adore being here. It’s so peaceful away from the tourist area. A fresh breeze drifts in from the ocean, and there are luxury amenities to be had within easy distance. I have a few friends here, and the pace of life is less frenetic than in Madrid.’ She cast Gianna a smile. ‘There was a time when I enjoyed a busy social existence. The parties, the theatre, various charities to whom the Velez-Saldaña conglomerate chooses to lend its support. The luncheons, dinners the fundraising committees.’ She paused to point out a fabulous display of roses. ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’
Indeed they were…deep reds, brilliant yellows and luscious pinks.
‘Now I prefer a quiet life, sharing as much time as possible with my son, a few special friends…’ Teresa paused and offered a genuine smile. ‘And you,’ she added gently.
Gianna found it impossible to still the sudden lump that rose in her throat.
A short time, Raúl had imparted. A few months, at most.
The medics had to be wrong. To believe this wonderful gracious lady’s diminishing health would take her from this earth before her rightful time seemed a tragedy.
‘I admire you,’ Gianna opined gently.
Teresa didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Someone said it before me…first you cry. My dear, I did that in the beginning.’ Her dark eyes sparkled with humour. ‘It served no purpose. Instead I chose to make each day count.’ A light laugh escaped her lips. ‘And I do, believe me.’
Gianna paused and gave Teresa an impulsive hug, then stood at arm’s length. ‘I want you to know how much I care for you.’ She blinked against the threat of tears…and won. ‘You’ve always been there for me. Even in the not-so-good times. Thank you,’ she said simply.
Teresa was silent for several long seconds. ‘You are as much my daughter as if you were born to me,’ she declared gently.
Oh, dear heaven… Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes, and this time she lost as they welled and spilled over to run in slow rivulets down each cheek.
Emotional overload.
A night with Raúl in her bed, very little sleep, her mind and heart in a state of turmoil, together with Teresa’s avowal of affection it was almost too much.
‘Am I to assume the reconciliation announcement was pre-empted by circumstance?’ Teresa posed quietly.
There was no question in evading the truth. ‘Sierra was a guest last night.’
‘Ah.’ Teresa expelled a breath and linked Gianna’s arm through her own. ‘Sierra is a dangerous young woman.’
‘There was an…incident,’ Gianna revealed, reluctant to relay the hateful words Sierra had uttered.
‘Raúl chose to defend you?’
You could say that. ‘Yes.’ The terrace came vividly to mind—how it had felt to be drawn into his arms…the kiss…dear heaven, magic. As if the past three years no longer existed. For at that moment the slate had been wiped clean. There was only passion…and the need to fulfil it.
Did Teresa guess there had been an aftermath?
How could she not?
‘Your happiness must be paramount,’ Teresa said gently. ‘There are occasions in one’s life when love is tested. Believe me when I say I will support whatever decision you choose to make.’
‘Thank you.’ Any minute soon she’d resort to tears again, and that would never do.
Almost as if Teresa sensed her emotional turmoil, she impulsively caught hold of her hand. ‘Come, we will examine Miguel’s garden. He is so proud that everything is organic.’ She gave a light laugh. ‘Elena is only allowed to pick the vegetables and salad greens he permits, and then it must be beneath his eagle eye.’
They were so caught up in the moment they were unaware that Raúl had risen from behind the desk and was unobtrusively observing the scene from the office window.
Two women, a generation apart.
His mother, of average height and slim, her shoulders held straight, the wig she wore so much like her own hair there was no detectable difference.
Gianna, his wife, in direct contrast, with her petite stature, slender curves and blond hair.
Together they shared a common unbreakable bond. Linked irrespective of their connection to him.
Soon…far too soon…he would lose one of them. As heartbreaking as that would be, he had no intention of allowing Gianna to slip through his fingers.
Last night…even the thought of what they’d shared through the dark hours was enough to incite arousal. Need, he accorded wryly. Rampant primitive passion for one woman…the only woman with whom he connected on every level. Mind, body, spirit. An essential part of him. As much as the air he breathed…his life force.
Did Teresa know?
How could she not? For it was she, more than anyone else, who had witnessed his drive to expand the power he wielded in the global market during the past few years. And he’d succeeded, even surpassing his own unrealistic goals as he’d poured all his energies into winning huge contracts, exacting takeovers, restructuring in a way that had trebled the Velez-Saldaña holdings.
Yet in a way his hands were tied…loosely,