Nights of Passion: Mendez's Mistress / Bedded for the Italian's Pleasure / The Pregnancy Affair. Anne Mather
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lots of her fellow passengers had slept during the long flight, she’d remained upright in her seat, replaying all she’d learned since Evelyn had rung her at the restaurant.
She’d arrived at the in-laws’ house prepared for the worst, and she hadn’t been disappointed. What Evelyn hadn’t told her on the phone was that Daisy was in a hospital in Palm Cove, which was about twelve miles from downtown Miami. She’d apparently fallen from the Johansens’ yacht and hit her head on the bathing platform as she’d gone into the water. Fortunately, one of the crew had realised something was wrong when she hadn’t surfaced and he’d dived in after her. He’d managed to bring Daisy back to the surface, but she’d swallowed a lot of water. She’d been unconscious when they’d pulled her back on board.
Rachel had been horrified. Her first thought had been, why hadn’t Steve noticed what had happened? But that hadn’t been a question Evelyn could answer. And Steve, when she’d finally tracked him down at the Johansens’ house, had been similarly obtuse. ‘She’s thirteen, for God’s sake,’ he’d snapped angrily. ‘She doesn’t need a nursemaid twenty-four-seven.’
Rachel had made no comment about this. She could have said that Daisy should have been wearing a life jacket, which she obviously hadn’t been; that, as she’d never been out on a yacht before, he might have taken the trouble to keep an eye on her. But she’d never had much success in arguments with Steve, and she hadn’t intended to try now. Instead she’d said, ‘I’d like to see her. Would you have any objections if I flew out and visited her myself?’
Steve had been surprisingly agreeable. ‘Why not?’ he’d said carelessly. ‘That’s why I rang the old lady. I knew you’d start clucking like a mother hen. If you want to come, I won’t stop you.’
As if he could, Rachel had thought grimly, but at least he couldn’t accuse her of acting without his knowledge. And when she’d come off the phone, Evelyn had confided that Steve had admitted that Daisy had been asking for her. That was why she’d taken the liberty of interrupting her date.
Now, dragging her suitcase behind her, Rachel made for the exit. The concourse was crowded and she was anticipating a lengthy wait for a taxi when someone caught her arm.
‘Rachel,’ a familiar voice said. ‘I thought I must have missed you.’
It was Joe Mendez, and Rachel stared at him with disbelieving eyes. ‘Joe!’ she exclaimed without thinking. And then, ‘I mean—Mr Mendez. What are you doing here?’
‘Didn’t I make myself clear?’ Joe gave her a rueful smile. ‘I came to meet you.’ He glanced down at her suitcase. ‘Is this all your luggage?’
‘I—yes, but—’
‘Good. Let’s go.’ He took the handle from her unresisting fingers. ‘We can talk in the car. It’s just outside.’
Rachel blinked. ‘Um—did Steve ask you to meet me?’
‘It was my decision,’ said Joe, steering her round a portly woman whose tight jeans emphasised her size. ‘Did you have a good journey?’
Rachel made some reply, but her mind wasn’t really on her words. He was the last person she’d expected to see at the airport—or anywhere else, for that matter. She’d found a modest hotel in Palm Cove and booked herself a room via the Internet. The hotel wasn’t far from the hospital, and it would be easy for her to visit Daisy without making any demands on anyone.
She certainly didn’t expect to spend any time with her exhusband. She’d accepted that they might run into one another at the hospital, but that was all. She was here for one reason and one reason only, and that was to see her daughter. At present, that was the only thing on her mind.
The humidity hit her as soon as they stepped out of the terminal. Until then, the air-conditioning had cushioned her from the oppressive heat outside. Heavy clouds hung over the airport buildings, dark and threatening, and a damp warmth moistened the skin at the back of her neck and sapped what little strength she had left.
A sleek black limousine idled in a no-waiting zone, and Joe headed straight for it, evidently expecting her to follow him. A uniformed chauffeur sprang out at their approach and swung open the rear doors of the car. Then, taking the suitcase Joe had been carrying, he flipped the boot lid and dropped the case inside.
Joe turned and for the first time she was able to take a proper look at him. In a tight-fitting black tee shirt and khaki cargo-shorts, he looked nothing like the CEO of a successful computer company that she knew him to be. Amazingly, his hair had grown a little in the week or so since she’d seen him, but there was the same shadow of stubble on his jawline.
‘D’ you want to get in?’ he suggested, taking charge of the door nearest to him, and Rachel decided not to argue at this time. Although he probably had dispensation to park his vehicle in the area primarily given over to hire cars and taxis, she didn’t want to be responsible for him earning a fine.
It was deliciously cool in the limousine, the soft leather giving luxuriously beneath her weight. There was enough room in front of her to stretch out full-length if she wanted to, and for the first time since leaving home she felt herself relax.
It didn’t last long. When Joe circled the car and swung in beside her, she stiffened automatically. She could smell his heat, and his maleness, and the front of his shirt was just the slightest bit damp, as if he’d been sweating.
His knee brushed her thigh as he lounged on the seat beside her, bare legs brown and muscular and liberally spread with dark hair. The hairs on his arms were dark too, and once again she could see the shadow of the tattoo that was almost hidden by the short sleeve of his shirt. He looked lean and powerful, and totally at ease.
And just like that her pulse quickened, and she felt a melting heat between her legs. Despite her worries about Daisy, her body had a will of its own. Her breathing grew shallow and she prayed he wouldn’t notice. Or if he did that he’d put it down to the suffocating heat outside.
‘Okay,’ he said as the chauffeur got behind the wheel and they started away from the kerb. ‘Did Steve fix you up with a hotel?’
Rachel moistened her lips and smoothed her damp palms over the knees of her cotton trousers. ‘I fixed myself up, actually,’ she said. ‘It’s just a small hotel. The Park Plaza; I believe it’s near the hospital.’
‘The Park Plaza?’ Joe’s brows drew together. ‘I don’t believe I know it.’ He leaned forward and addressed the chauffeur. ‘Have you heard of the Park Plaza hotel in Palm Cove, Luther?’ he asked, and the other man nodded.
‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘It’s on Spanish Avenue. Near the shopping mall.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Joe seemed to recognise the location even if the hotel was unfamiliar to him. ‘Okay, head in that direction.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Luther acknowledged his instructions, and then Joe pressed a button in the arm of the door beside him and the privacy screen slid up between them and the chauffeur. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I guess you’d like to know how Daisy is this afternoon?’ He paused, and when she widened her eyes he added, ‘I saw her myself earlier today, and she seems to be making steady progress.’
‘Thank God!’
Rachel’s response was heartfelt and Joe regarded her with sympathetic eyes. It couldn’t have been easy, he thought, learning that her daughter—who’d happened to be four thousand miles away at the time—had suffered a blow to the head that had needed specialist treatment. Joe himself, who’d been prepared, had been shocked when he’d seen the kid. Her face was covered in bruises and one of her eyes was almost completely closed.
‘So.’ Rachel knew she had to say something. ‘How did you come to meet me? I could have taken a cab, you know.’
‘Yeah.’ Joe shrugged. ‘And you could have been waiting a couple hours. I thought you might be glad to see a friendly face.’