Anne Mather

The Rodrigues Pregnancy


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onto its cushions. ‘You knew where I was,’ she said, the inflection a statement, not a question, and he sighed.

      ‘You are Antonio Mora’s widow, Olivia,’ he said flatly. ‘A wealthy woman in her own right. I owe it to Tony to look out for you. What kind of a man would I be if I betrayed his trust?’

      Olivia’s lips tightened. ‘You tell me.’

      Another silence, this time more hostile than the last, and she knew she had touched a nerve. Then, ‘This is not the time to discuss the past, Olivia,’ he told her harshly. And she didn’t have to see his face to know he was angry now. ‘But Tony is dead and, whether you like it or not, you are vulnerable. It is my responsibility to ensure that you are not disturbed in any way.’

      ‘Except by you.’

      She heard his sudden intake of breath and knew a moment’s fear that she had gone too far. Christian had been a good friend to Tony but he would make a bad enemy. For her own sake—and for the sake of her child—she had to make him understand that she didn’t need his help.

      But how?

      Taking another deep breath, she plunged into an impromptu explanation. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful, Christian, but you have to understand I was hoping for some privacy here. When—when Tony died, I didn’t seem to have a minute to myself. Perhaps I was naïve in thinking I could get away without telling anyone where I was going. But I hope this doesn’t mean I have to report to you every time I want to—want to—’

      The words ‘take a leak’ seemed most appropriate, but this time she bit her tongue before she offended him again. Somehow, she had to convince him that she was all right, that she needed nothing from him. If she could just keep her head, he would soon realise he was wasting his time with her.

      ‘I do not expect you to report to me at all, Olivia,’ he said now, almost grimly, and her heart sank at the thought that perhaps he wasn’t going to be so easy to dismiss after all. ‘But it would have been a courtesy to leave your forwarding address with my secretary.’

      Not likely! Olivia’s mouth tightened. She refused to give that promiscuous bitch the time of day. Dolores Samuels had been trying to get her claws into Christian ever since Tony had blown her off a year ago. He must know that. Or had he already availed himself of her far-too-obvious allure?

      The idea should not have been so distasteful to her and to cover herself, she muttered, ‘Perhaps I should.’ But she resented his assumption that she owed him any explanations. Dammit, he wasn’t her husband. She owed him nothing at all.

      ‘I’m sorry if you feel I have overstepped my position, Olivia,’ he declared into the silence that had followed her reluctant submission. ‘But, in the circumstances, it was—unavoidable.’

      Unavoidable? Olivia stiffened. Was she missing something here? Surely he couldn’t have found out about— But, no. That was impossible. She’d told no one she was seeing a doctor and a patient’s records were confidential, weren’t they?

      She shook her head. She was being paranoid. She’d done nothing to arouse anyone’s suspicions, least of all his. Whatever he wanted, it had to be something to do with Tony’s estate. But why hadn’t he contacted Luis? Was the power Tony had given him not enough?

      ‘I don’t understand,’ she said now, adopting an aloof tone. ‘What is—was—unavoidable?’

      ‘Luis is in hospital in San Francisco,’ replied Christian without preamble, and Olivia was glad she was sitting down when he threw that at her.

      ‘In hospital?’ she echoed weakly, her hand clammy on the receiver. ‘Oh, God, what’s happened? Is he ill?’

      ‘Not ill, no,’ responded Christian swiftly, and she guessed he wasn’t totally insensitive to her feelings.

      ‘His car ploughed into a wall. Luis was driving, naturally. He has a fractured pelvis, bruises, concussion…’ he paused ‘…and initially a suspected broken neck.’

      The whimper of pain Olivia gave was audible to him and she heard Christian utter a frustrated imprecation. Then, almost savagely, he said, ‘He is not dying, Olivia. His spine was bruised, that is all. There is no fracture. With time—and the skill of his doctors—he should recover completely.’

      Olivia swallowed. ‘You’re sure of that?’

      ‘As sure as I can be.’ Christian expelled a sharp breath. ‘I am not an expert, Olivia. But my understanding is that your precious boy will soon be as good as new.’

      Olivia stiffened. ‘You needn’t be sarcastic, Christian. I realise that both you and Tony were born with balance sheets clutched in your power-hungry little hands. But Luis isn’t like that. He realises there’s more to life than money.’

      ‘Vale.’ The ice in Christian’s voice was almost palpable. ‘I suppose that is why he was only driving a Porsche Turbo instead of the GT?’

      Olivia pressed her lips together. ‘Just tell me where he is,’ she said coldly. ‘I want to go and see him.’

      ‘There is no need.’

      ‘What do you mean, there is no need?’ Olivia was infuriated, her earlier panic giving way to indignation at his words. ‘Which hospital was he taken to? You might as well tell me. Because if you don’t, I will find out—’

      ‘Cool it, will you?’ Christian’s tone was flat now.

      Olivia wished she didn’t feel so helpless. ‘You can’t stop me seeing him, Christian.’

      ‘God!’ His exclamation was fervent. ‘I am not trying to stop you from seeing him, Olivia. But there’s no need for you to think about flying out to San Francisco when I’ve arranged for him to be flown back to Miami in the morning.’

      Olivia gasped. ‘You’ve what?’ She couldn’t believe it.

      ‘I think you heard me, Olivia.’

      ‘But—’ She struggled for words. ‘You had no right to do that.’

      ‘No?’

      ‘No,’ she spluttered. ‘It’s too soon for him to be moved. You said he has a fractured pelvis. He probably has whiplash. And what about the concussion—?’

      ‘The mild concussion?’ he inquired evenly and she wanted to scream. ‘He will survive.’

      ‘I still think you shouldn’t have made the decision to move him,’ she declared hotly. ‘Just because you can’t be bothered to take time off from your personal schedule to go and see him, you’re prepared to risk possible complications to satisfy your own ends.’

      ‘That’s your opinion, is it?’

      He was breathing heavily now. She could hear it, and for a moment she was tempted to say nothing more. But she couldn’t let him intimidate her and, squaring her shoulders, she said, ‘Yes, it is.’ She paused and then added defensively, ‘And whatever his faults, I’m sure it would have been Tony’s opinion as well.’

      ‘You think?’ He blew out a breath and, although she couldn’t see him, she sensed the anger that was simmering just beneath his iron control. ‘Well, querida, for your information, Luis’s doctor has assessed his condition and sanctioned the transfer to the hospital in Miami. An air ambulance, fully equipped with both doctors and nursing staff, will fly him from the local airport in San Francisco. Subsequently, he will be airlifted to the Sacred Heart. Does that reassure you?’

      Olivia moistened her lips. ‘I—I suppose it has to.’

      ‘Good.’ But he was sardonic. ‘Then that only leaves us with the question of when you will come to Miami to visit him.’

      Oh, God! Olivia sank back against the soft leather. She’d known it was coming, of course, but it sounded so much more ominous when he said it.

      ‘You—you say