some drivers more impatient than others as the lines of cars slowed to a snail’s pace. Tempers rose, horns blared and engines roared in protest. Then slowly they began to move again.
The Bentley had just begun to pick up speed when Alejandro hit the brakes. Elise was conscious of several things at once: Alejandro’s arm anchoring her against the seat an instant before the car lurched on impact, and the sickening sound of crunching metal. She registered dimly a string of viciously articulated Spanish words, then Alejandro was leaning over her, his features harsh as his hands cupped her face.
‘Are you all right?’
She was in another car, a white sports model, behind the wheel, passing through a computercontrolled intersection. There was an instantaneous reaction as she slammed on the brakes and wrenched the wheel in a desperate bid to avoid hitting the oncoming vehicle. But it was too late. There was a sickening crunch of metal. Her head hit something, and then there was darkness.
‘Por Dios.’
Elise felt as if her eyes were far too large for her face as she attempted to re-focus them and shut out that horrific vision.
‘Are you hurt?’
She registered Alejandro’s voice, deep, dark and throbbing, then she saw his face, anxiety etching every line, his eyes almost black as they attempted to see beyond the mask her features had become.
‘Elise.’ His fingers were gentle as they stroked each cheek, and she blinked once, twice, then she was back in the present.
‘I’m—fine,’ she attempted, through lips that trembled badly. She met his intent gaze, and swallowed the sudden lump that seemed lodged in her throat. ‘Really,’ she assured him shakily as she defended herself against eyes that seemed to pierce her soul.
‘You remembered the accident.’ It was a statement, not a query. ‘All of it?’
Her lips seemed strangely dry, and she edged out the tip of her tongue to moisten them. ‘Just—a blur of blue hurtling towards me, the moment of impact.’
His eyes never left her face, and her mouth trembled slightly as he reached for the car-phone, punched in a series of numbers, requested the police, and gave a brief description of the accident and location.
Elise could only stare straight ahead as Alejandro pushed open the door and slid to his feet, and his hard inflexible tones combining with those of the man who had tempted providence by making an erroneous move barely penetrated her conscious mind.
Was this how her memory would return? A series of brief isolated incidents every few days?
Seconds later Alejandro slid in behind the wheel, and Elise bore his intent scrutiny with equanimity.
‘I’m OK,’ she assured him. ‘Is there much damage to the car?’
‘You concern me. Not the car,’ he said bleakly.
At some stage she heard the distant wail of a police siren, then it came close, red and blue lights flashing. Doors slammed, voices.
It wasn’t until they arrived home that she saw the broken light and its surround, the deep gouges and scratches. The sight of them brought on a wave of nausea, and she only just made it upstairs in time.
No protest she made prevented Alejandro from calling in the doctor.
‘Dammit, this is normal,’ she uttered fiercely, and saw his expression measurably harden. She lifted her hands in mock surrender. ‘All right, I give in.’
An hour later she barely refrained from reiterating the doctor’s reassurance, and the only concession she made to resting was to recline on the sun-lounger beneath a shade umbrella at the pool’s edge.
The next few days assumed a regular routine as Elise attended the physiotherapy clinic and kept an appointment with the neurologist.
Alejandro rose early, spent an hour working out in the downstairs gym, followed it with several lengths in the pool, then after breakfast he closeted himself in the study until Ana served lunch.
An urgent telephone call on Friday morning necessitated his presence in the city, and Elise rejoiced at the thought of spending the day alone.
The physiotherapy session was scheduled for midmorning, and after lunch she settled down to leaf through a supply of the latest glossy magazines.
Tall, perfectly proportioned young women modelling beautiful clothes, she perceived as she flipped idly through the fashion pages.
One model in particular caught her eye, and she wondered at her instinctive fascination with a longhaired brunette with classical features and cool dark eyes.
Without any warning those same features seemed to come alive, and it was like watching a re-run of part of a film depicting an isolated incident in her life, Elise decided, momentarily freezing as images crowded her brain. So clear, so hauntingly vivid.
Alejandro, Elise and Savannah seated together at a table, aiding one of several charities Alejandro was known to support.
Savannah. The hauntingly beautiful model who had been Alejandro’s close companion for several years before Elise had been thrust into the limelight as his latest conquest.
Now Savannah seemed intent on proving she still held Alejandro’s interest by indulging in a little game of subtle flirting, a fact which was not lost on Elise.
It was extremely difficult to maintain the semblance of a smile as she spooned morsels of delectable fruit from the elaborately presented dessert.
Jealousy was a terrible emotion, she conceded, as she picked up her fork and speared a segment of orange with more force than necessary. With little provocation, she could have killed Savannah for her blatant attempt to capture Alejandro’s attention. As for Alejandro…She would have liked to do temporary harm to a vulnerable part of his anatomy.
Perhaps he sensed her antipathy, for he turned his head and his eyes gleamed with mild amusement as he met her calculated smile.
Without a word he reached for her hand and carried it to his lips, kissing each finger in turn as she seethed with silent anger.
How dared he? She wanted to walk out and take a taxi home. As it was, she barely managed to preserve a calm front for the remainder of the evening, and the instant Alejandro brought the Bentley to a halt inside the garage she burst into angry speech.
‘In future you can choose whether you partner Savannah or your wife,’ Elise railed in fury.
‘You expect me to display ill manners by ignoring a friend I have known for several years?’
‘Heaven forbid,’ Elise said sarcastically.
‘You have no reason to be jealous.’
She slid from the car as he moved out from behind the wheel, and it gave her the utmost satisfaction to slam the door.
‘I am not jealous. I simply refuse to be part of a ménage-à-trois.’
Alejandro began to chuckle, and the husky sounds of his amusement acted like flame placed too close to combustible octane.
Elise threw her evening bag at him, and followed it with one evening sandal, then the other, each of which he neatly fielded and slid into the pockets of his jacket.
‘So you want to play?’
He reached her far too easily, before she had gone more than a few steps, and she gasped in outrage as he lifted her effortlessly over one shoulder and carried her indoors.
‘Put me down!’
He walked through the foyer to the stairs, gaining the upper floor with galling ease, seemingly uncaring as she beat her hands against the broad expanse of his back.
In the bedroom