The Balfour Legacy. Кэрол Мортимер
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saw the wariness in her eyes as she regarded him—as if expecting him to start interrogating her again. His mouth hardened. And maybe she had good reason to think that.
The phone began to ring once more and, seeing her eyes close wearily this time, Carlos snatched up the receiver, his eyes narrowing as he listened. ‘Yes?’
‘Carlos! It’s Tania Stephens here,’ came the throaty voice of a woman. ‘I’m the one who left my bikini on your yacht and wondered if you’d just like to—’
‘No comment,’ he snarled, slamming it down again, and when it began to ring again almost immediately he took it off the hook. Was this what it was going to be like? he wondered. With the phone ringing and the press clamouring and Kat getting bigger. Living out her pregnancy in the middle of the city, with that cold and unapproachable air about her while the media-hungry world closed in.
There was a solution to the problem which lay before them, he realised slowly. But only if Kat would agree to it—and that was by no means certain. ‘I can find you somewhere safe to stay,’ he said slowly. ‘Somewhere the press won’t bother you.’
She looked up. ‘Where?’
‘That’s up to you, Princesa. I can give you several options. I have places pretty much all over the world you can choose from.’
‘With you, you mean? You’ll be coming with me?’ she questioned in a cool voice, as if she didn’t care one way or the other. Because the last thing she wanted or needed to feel right now was disappointment when he told her that, no, he’d be leaving her alone to face the coming months.
Carlos expelled a breath. ‘Well, that depends,’ he said slowly. ‘On whether or not you want me there.’
There was a pause while the question hung in the air.
Don’t make yourself vulnerable, Kat told herself. Don’t open yourself up to yet more pain. ‘If you want,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘I don’t really care either way.’
Carlos met the blue of her dazzling eyes which now seemed as cold as a winter sky. She had agreed to leave the spotlight of the city and he was going with her.
His mouth hardened. It may have felt a little like a victory, he thought, but it seemed a very hollow one.
Chapter Twelve
HE TOOK her to a house she recognised, though it took a moment or two for Kat to realise why.
‘It’s the house in the painting!’ she exclaimed, her heart lifting with an unexpected kind of delight. ‘The one in your study on the yacht.’ The one she used to gaze at when she was transcribing recipes during a time which now seemed like light years ago.
‘It is indeed. My hacienda,’ said Carlos softly.
Standing in the doorway of the lovingly cared-for old house, surrounded by a shaded veranda decked with flowers and foliage, Kat looked out at the stunning Andalusian countryside. Outside were orchards of Carlos’s very own oranges and lemons—which scented the soft, warm air. And in nearby pastures overlooking distant mountain peaks lived his beloved Andalusian horses which people came from all over the world to buy.
Despite her mixed emotions, Kat thought she had never seen any where more lovely in her life. It seemed so solid and real—so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. And it made her feel indescribably wistful for a life she had never known and probably never would. A life with deep roots and the promise of longevity.
‘So what do you think of my home?’ asked Carlos, as he came out of the house to find her standing there, perfectly still. They’d travelled down earlier that afternoon on the jet he’d hired, and Kat had just drunk tea and eaten from a dish of fruit which his housekeeper had served to them.
She turned to face him. ‘I think it’s beautiful.’
‘So why the troubled look?’
Was he completely dense, Kat wondered, or did he just have the ability to completely switch off? Maybe with men it was different—or maybe it was just different for Carlos. Beneath her outwardly calm exterior she could feel the riot of emotions which were as tangled as an old ball of string, but presumably he suffered no similar disquiet as he contemplated their uncertain future.
‘Oh, it’s all been a lot to take in,’ she said evasively. ‘The news about the baby, the journey here—wondering just what we’re going to tell people.’ She bit her lip. Plus the mind-boggling adjustment of having to redefine herself as a single mother. ‘And when.’
Staring down into her bright blue eyes, Carlos saw the unmistakable strain which shadowed them. And wondered whether the brittleness she seemed to have acquired might melt away again. So that once again she became that soft, smiling Kat who used to tease him. The woman who used to welcome him into her arms and into her bed every night.
‘We’re not going to do anything until you’ve relaxed,’ he said softly. ‘That was one of my reasons for bringing you here.’
Not quite daring to ask him what any of the others were, Kat returned his stare. ‘And what about you, Carlos—what will you be doing? Relaxing—or tapping away on your damned computer as usual?’
He heard something which sounded close to accusation in her voice and Carlos nodded. ‘I think I might try a little relaxation therapy myself,’ he agreed softly. ‘There happens to be a pool here which I haven’t swum in this year.’
There was indeed a pool—and Kat blinked with disbelief when she first saw it. A vast infinity pool overlooking an enormous mountain range, the clear blue waters seeming to go on for ever.
After breakfast the following morning, he suggested she change into a swimsuit and meet him there. And although it was a sensible enough suggestion for such a sunny day it seemed a curiously intimate thing to say. Lazing by a swimming pool was the sort of thing which couples did and they were most definitely not a couple—a state of affairs which had been reinforced by the fact that they’d spent their first night at the hacienda sleeping in separate rooms.
Well, of course they had. Carlos wasn’t interested in her any more, was he? Not in that way.
Because he hadn’t touched her. Not once. Not a tight, comforting hug when she’d told him about the baby. Not a squeeze of her fingers during the flight over here, nor even a protective hand held at the small of her back as he guided her through the doors of his beloved hacienda for the first time.
Nothing.
And didn’t that send out the clearest message of all—that the sexual side of their relationship was over? That really, everything between them was over—other than the mechanics of working out how to manage their shared parenthood. She guessed that at some point they were going to have to sit down and discuss what the future was going to bring, but she knew without him having to tell her that it was not going to include coupledom.
Kat went to her room and changed into a bikini which seemed too skimpy for comfort—though, logically, she knew that her body had not yet begun to alter. Just that now it felt more vulnerable than it used to. More exposed. Just like she did. Pulling on a silken robe and carrying a book she had little enthusiasm for, she went downstairs to find Carlos was already by the pool.
He looked up as she approached, and frowned. ‘You need a hat.’
‘I haven’t brought one with me.’
‘Well, there are plenty around the place. Here. Have this.’
Fishing out a battered old panama from underneath one of the loungers, he tossed it to her, and she caught it.
‘Thanks.’ Her throat was dry as she slipped off her silken robe and lay down beside him. It was still early and the air was fresh and sweet. Unknown birds were making distant calls and she could smell the heavy fragrance of jasmine.
For a while she felt brittle, unsure of what to do or say to the man whose golden-olive