the older woman answered with a warm smile. ‘I will get your breakfast.’
‘I’ll do it.’ Cereal, fruit and toast, with orange juice and tea, were simple enough to assemble. Besides, she’d looked after herself for years, and valued a degree of independence.
Elise enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, browsing through the morning papers, then when she had finished she moved outside for a walk round the gardens.
The flowers were beautiful, grown in colour co-ordinated borders that were a visual delight: delicate pinks and whites, brilliant reds and yellows, then carefully clipped shrubs. There were a number of urns gracing the steps leading down from the terrace, and a splendid concrete tiered bird-bath was the central feature of a square expanse of manicured lawn.
Beyond that lay the swimming-pool with an adjacent cabana which housed a bar and changingrooms.
It was a magnificent property, the architecture and landscaping in perfect harmony. Its location and beautiful views out over the harbour indicated a value she was hesitant to calculate.
Was it any wonder that Savannah coveted the man who owned it? His position in the city’s social scene was unquestionable, and there were few women who were not fascinated by rich and powerful men. Some even sold themselves in a quest for fame and fortune.
As she had. Although not for fame or fortune. Her father…Dammit, such introspection was dangerous. It led nowhere, and achieved nothing except to highlight her own insecurities.
Love was a mixture of heaven and hell. Especially when you were not loved in return. The physicalities of lovemaking were there, but not the emotional commitment.
Would it ever be any different? Could it be? Sadly, she didn’t think so.
Elise wandered down to the swimming-pool and sat in one of the chairs positioned beneath a wide sun-umbrella. The sun felt warm against her bare skin, and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
‘Elise? It is ten-fifteen.’
She came sharply awake at the sound of Ana’s voice, amazed that she could have lapsed into a light doze.
Her hand had swollen slightly and was beginning to show signs of bruising. There was also a degree of pain when the physiotherapist supervised her exercises, a fact which he noted, adding an admonition to be more careful. There didn’t seem much point in assuring him that it was not self-inflicted.
At home she ate the chicken salad Ana had prepared for lunch, then she changed into a bikini, selected a book, and wandered out to sit beneath a shade-umbrella by the pool.
It was almost six when Alejandro arrived home, and Elise cast him a warm smile as he entered the lounge.
‘How was your day?’ she asked lightly, and was unprepared for his brief hard kiss.
‘A series of meetings, appointments.’ His tone was dry, his eyes dark and inscrutable. ‘I’ll change. Then we’ll have a drink before dinner.’
‘I’ll go and check with Ana.’
The table was already set, and there was a delicious aroma emanating from the kitchen.
‘Vegetable soup,’ Ana informed her as she stirred the contents of a saucepan. ‘Paella, with fresh fruit to finish.’
‘Sounds wonderful. Can I help with anything?’
‘It is all under control,’ the older woman beamed companionably. ‘I will serve in fifteen minutes.’
Elise wandered towards the lounge, and was busy watching the televised news when Alejandro entered the room.
He looked vaguely satanic in casual dark trousers and a polo shirt which highlighted the olive tint of his skin and emphasised his length and breadth. ‘A cool drink?’
She glanced towards him and her breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed the hard demeanour just beneath the surface of his control. ‘Please,’ she managed evenly, returning her attention to the television.
She turned as he reached her side, and instead of handing her a glass he placed both down on a nearby pedestal.
‘Let me see your hand.’
He knew. How? The physiotherapist? There was no one else who could have told him, she reasoned silently.
‘It’s a bit stiff,’ she admitted with a helpless shrug, unwilling to extend it for his inspection.
‘Some bruising, pain and reduced mobility,’ Alejandro stated with dangerous softness, ‘consistent with the hand being compressed.’ He reached forward and carefully caught hold of her arm. His intent examination filled her with a peculiar sense of dread, and she almost died at the savagery apparent as he seared her features. ‘Savannah?’
She swallowed nervously. ‘What if I accidentally knocked my hand?’
His expression became inscrutable, and his voice contained dangerous indolence. ‘Did you?’
Evasion of the truth was hardly wise, for there was already visible evidence of bruising. ‘No.’
He said something vicious beneath his breath in Spanish, then lifted a hand to cup her jaw. His finger traced a gentle pattern over her lower lip, probing slightly before moving to caress her cheek. His eyes became dark, their depths unfathomable as he searched her features.
‘My relationship with Savannah was…’ He paused fractionally, then said deliberately, ‘Mutually convenient.’
Mutual need, Elise qualified, sickened at the picture that conjured up.
‘Marriage was not something I had considered until you stormed into my office in a state of fury and began hurling accusations and making allegations.’ His smile held wry cynicism. ‘Over dinner that same evening I decided I wanted your loyalty, your fierce pride, your honesty.’
He had deliberately tested her, and it rankled unbearably.
He brushed her mouth lightly with his own. ‘Eventually—your love,’ he added quietly.
He had placed the chess-pieces on a board, and played the game with infinite patience and skill. She hurt too much to let him know that he had won.
‘Along with good health, love is something that money can’t buy,’ Elise declared carefully, and glimpsed a flicker of pain in the depths of his eyes, so fleeting that she wondered if she had imagined it.
‘The time between being informed of your accident and discovering the extent of your injuries were the worst minutes I have ever spent,’ he assured her ruminatively as he took possession of her mouth in a kiss so incredibly gentle that she simply closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensual eroticism of his touch.
It seemed an age before he broke contact and slowly lifted his head.
It took enormous will-power to step away from him, and her voice was not quite steady as she offered, ‘Ana will be ready to serve dinner.’
‘Then let us go in and eat.’
IT WAS a week later that Elise entered the elegant Double Bay salon and checked with Reception.
‘Raphael will be five minutes, Elise,’ the stunning blonde told her with a bright smile. ‘He’s running a little late. Perhaps you’d care to take a seat? Would you like some tea or coffee? Orange juice, mineral water?’
Elise shook her head in silent negation, adding a polite, ‘Thanks,’ before selecting a chair.
A year ago—make that nine months ago, she corrected mentally—she wouldn’t have been able to afford to walk into this exclusive hairdressing salon. To have had Raphael himself apply