Under the Brazilian Sun. CATHERINE GEORGE
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with paté. ‘He is jealous?’
Katherine thought about it. ‘Andrew wants me to move into his house instead.’
His eyes gleamed between enviable lashes. ‘Do you wish to do that?’
She shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. My house really is mine. My father left it to me. And my tenants pay me good rent to share it, and the three of us get together with other friends occasionally for a drink or a meal, which I enjoy very much. Great paté, by the way,’ she added.
‘Pate de sardinha. Lidia made it, so eat more.’ Roberto leaned to top up her glass. ‘You say your father left the house to you? He is dead?’
Katherine nodded soberly. ‘Yes. My mother died when I was little. Dad brought me up single-handed and did a fantastic job of it.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Then, just after my eighteenth birthday, he had a major heart attack, which killed him.’
‘Que tragedia,’ he said softly. ‘You have other relatives?’
‘Dad’s younger sister came to live with me at the time, but eventually Charlotte met Sam Napier, the architect she’s married to now.’ Katherine smiled warmly. ‘They wanted me to make my home with them, but though I was deeply grateful to them I preferred to stay on at the house. Two of my fellow students were looking for somewhere to live so, with fantastic help from Sam, modifications were made to create three separate flats. The arrangement works so well Hugh and Alastair are still with me.’
‘And you do not wish to leave to join your lover,’ he remarked.
‘He’s just a friend,’ she said irritably, then caught her lip in her teeth.
Roberto eyed her in wry amusement. ‘You do not offend me, Doctor. It is I who do so with my talk of a lover. But that is how this man regards himself, nao e?’
‘I met him only a short time ago,’ she protested.
‘It takes only a moment to fall in love!’
She frowned, taken aback by the sudden descent into the personal. ‘From impartial observation I’ve noticed that it takes only a moment to fall back out again, too!’
All talk of love was abandoned as Jorge arrived to set down a platter of succulent pork slices flanked by an array of vegetables and a side dish of sautéed potato slices.
‘This smells heavenly!’ Katherine said reverently.
‘We shall serve ourselves, Jorge,’ said Roberto, and smiled at him. ‘Thank Lidia for the batatinhas.’
‘What are they?’ asked Katherine as she helped herself.
‘The potatoes.’ He smiled. ‘They are my weakness prepared this way, but at one time I could not eat as many as I wished.’
‘You had to diet?’ she said, astonished. ‘That’s hard to believe.’
‘I had to take care with what I ate,’ he assured her. ‘Now, I do not.’
Katherine longed to know more as she went on with her dinner. ‘I always have to watch my weight,’ she said sadly.
‘E verdade?’ he said, surprised. ‘Why?’
‘Otherwise, my clothes don’t fit. So, as a basic matter of economy, I try not to eat chocolate, and puddings, and so on.’
Roberto leaned to refill her glass. ‘The wine will do no harm, I promise. Not,’ he added, ‘that I think the doces would harm you either, Katherine.’ He shot a look at her. ‘You allow me use of your name?’
‘Of course,’ she said quickly, annoyed because she felt flustered. ‘I was a bit overweight as a teenager, right up until my father died, when I found that grief was far more effective than any diet.’
His eyes softened. ‘You were close to him.’
‘Yes. I even followed his career choice. He lectured in art history. He met James Massey when they were at university.’
‘And now you work for your father’s friend.’
She stiffened. ‘Which is absolutely nothing to do with nepotism—’
‘I am sure it is not,’ Roberto assured her hastily. ‘But it would please your father to know that his daughter works in safe keeping with his old friend, I think.’
‘True. But I earn my salary, Senhor Sousa.’
He sighed. ‘Now I have offended you. Perdao! It was not my intention. Agora, please eat more or Lidia will also be offended.’
Katherine went on with her meal for a moment or two, then decided to take the plunge. ‘May I ask about your accident?’
Roberto tensed as though about to refuse, then shrugged, his eyes bitter. ‘I was in a car crash, and fortunate to survive. But for a while it was hard to convince myself of that.’
‘Because you were in such pain?’
His smile was sardonic as he refilled their glasses. ‘Also because of vanity.’
‘Vanity?’
Roberto nodded. ‘My broken leg was in full length cast, I had bad concussion, black eyes, broken nose and teeth, and half my face held together with stitches. Frankenstein’s monster was prettier.’
‘Sounds as though you were lucky to be alive,’ said Katherine with a shiver. ‘Did you have any passengers?’
‘I was the passenger, Katherine. When the car swerved off the road on a bend the driver leapt clear. The car did not burst into flames as in the movies, gracas a Deus, but it suffered much damage as it crashed down a hillside into trees.’
‘What happened to the chauffeur?’
His eyes hardened to obsidian. ‘The driver was a woman, Katherine. I learned later that she had only a sprained wrist, also contusoes—bruises because bushes broke her fall. She ran from the scene in panic. It was left to a passing motorist to ring for help. I knew nothing of this. I woke up in hospital, with my parents by my bed.’
‘What a horrible shock for them to see you so badly injured.’ Katherine’s eyes were warm with sympathy, which hardened to something else entirely at the thought of the woman who’d left Roberto to his fate. ‘And the lady driving the car?’
‘She rang me eventually at the hospital, begging me to say I was driving,’ he said without expression. ‘But the answer was negative because the police already knew I was not driving. It took much time to free me from the passenger seat of my car.’
‘Why would she ask you to do that?’
‘We had a disagreement over dinner, and because of it we had taken more wine than was wise, so I insisted on ringing for a taxi. But she was in a great hurry to get away and snatched my keys.’ He looked suddenly grim. ‘We were still arguing in the car because she would not fasten her seat belt.’
‘So she was able to jump clear and leave you to your fate.’ Katherine shook her head in disbelief. ‘After that, she actually expected you to say you were driving?’
‘Yes. But even if I had been fool enough to agree, I could not lie because the police knew the facts, also that Elena had spent the evening with me from the publicity shots taken on our way to dinner. When the truth came out she was fired from a television soap she was appearing in. She had a minor role as an innocent young girl desired by a married man.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘When it was known that Elena Cabral had not only been drinking but jumped from the car to leave me to my fate, the press crucified her.’
‘Where did this happen?’
‘Near Porto. There were horrific pictures of me in the press.’ His mouth twisted. ‘My parents wanted to fly me straight home, but living at the Estancia would have meant much