moment, en route to Caballeros. When he returned there with Francesca in the morning there would be eyes and ears everywhere, keeping watch. Keeping her safe.
Felipe rubbed his eyes, sighed and swung his legs off the bed.
The guilt at his anger towards her had grown and his self-chastisement with it.
Control and discipline were the two most important elements needed for his job. He’d learned both in the forces and had carried it through to his business. He demanded the men he employed have the same qualities. When danger was rife, keeping a cool head was a necessity even when, as he’d learned to his bitter cost, it wasn’t always enough.
He’d lost that cool head with Francesca.
He’d overstepped the mark. He would have to apologise. That had been his intention before he’d left his suite for a swim. He would do his fifty laps then seek her out and apologise.
She’d been at the poolside. He’d seen her the moment he’d stepped onto the tiles surrounding the pool, spotting her as she pulled a book over her face, pretending not to have seen him.
He’d swum his lengths with more vigour than usual, pounding the water as if the strokes could sweep away the image of Francesca on a recliner wearing nothing but a tiny pale yellow bikini.
Dios, she had curves that could make a man weep.
He’d sensed her watching his every stroke.
When he’d finished, he hadn’t been able to resist another look while he’d dried himself. She’d been holding her book over her face again.
With the tell-tale tingles of arousal curling through his loins, he’d beaten a hasty retreat back to his suite and taken a cool shower.
Apologising could wait.
He couldn’t entertain the thought of knocking on her suite door. That would be putting temptation in his path when he needed to divert around it.
It was standard practice to sleep in the adjacent room to the client. He’d arranged with the hotel manager to beef up the hotel’s already tight security, the memory of the black Mondeo that had followed them hovering in the background of his mind a constant presence. Here, in this hotel, Francesca was safe. But not safe enough for him to contemplate changing suites to one on the other side of the complex, even though his every sinew strained to run.
Not wanting to be stuck with his own morose company and already bored with room service, he donned a pair of smart black chinos and a grey shirt, and decided to check out one of the hotel’s many restaurants.
There were half a dozen eateries to choose from. The only one that appealed was the Mediterranean Restaurant and Bar, which seemed the most informal of them and promised live music.
If he could have chosen anywhere he would have found an American diner and eaten the largest burger on the menu but he didn’t want to drive. He wanted to surround himself with people, eat and then sleep.
The restaurant was busy. A bar covered one wall while a small stage and dance area was set up on the wall opposite.
A waiter led him to an available table and as they went through the room Felipe spotted a lone figure sitting at a table tucked away in the corner, reading a menu.
His heart managed to sink and leap at the same moment, and in that same moment Francesca gazed absently around the room and found him. There was one quick blink before she put her head back down.
He rubbed the back of his neck. At the pool it had been easy for them both to pretend they hadn’t see each other but now there was no avoiding her.
‘DO YOU WANT some company?’ Felipe asked when he reached her. She wore a pretty floral dress with tiny straps. He caught a glimpse of thigh.
Francesca eyed him warily then gave a small nod.
He took the chair the waiter held out for him and sat down, noting the tall multi-coloured cocktail glass with an umbrella and straw in it. ‘What are you drinking?’
‘Tequila Sunrise. Do you want one?’
‘I’ll stick to beer. Have you ordered?’
‘I’m still making my mind up.’
The waiter scuttled off to get Felipe’s beer.
Opening his menu, he watched Francesca studiously read hers, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip.
‘Have you had a good day?’ he asked conversationally.
She shrugged but didn’t look at him, reaching for her drink with a hand that shook. ‘I’ve had worse.’ She took a long drink through the straw.
‘This isn’t an easy time for you,’ he observed, knowing it to be an understatement. She’d buried her brother only a few days before.
Her shoulders rose in another shrug and to his horror he watched her blink frantically in an attempt to hold back glistening tears.
She yanked her napkin and dabbed at her eyes, laughing morosely. ‘Look, Felipe, you don’t have to eat with me. I know you’re just being polite. If you want to find another table, I won’t care.’
‘No.’ Feeling like a complete ass, he ran his fingers through his hair and stared at her until she met his gaze. ‘I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you.’
That surprised her. She took another drink of her cocktail, the light of the candle flickering off her eyes.
Eventually she said in a small voice, ‘Have you spoken to Daniele about what happened yesterday with the Governor?’
‘No.’ He’d thought long and hard about it but had come to the conclusion that while she’d acted rashly, his condemnation had been too harsh. Francesca had been appalled when he’d pointed out the danger she’d put her career and the foundation in but it seemed she was far angrier with herself than he could be. She deserved the chance to see it through.
She closed her eyes. ‘Thank you. I think I was overwrought yesterday. It’s not an excuse but I’ve not been sleeping well since Pieta died and all that’s been keeping me going is the thought of getting this hospital built. I promise I’ll be considered in my approach from now on.’
‘Why don’t we draw a line through yesterday?’ he suggested gently. ‘Forget any cross words and start again?’
‘I would like that,’ she whispered. Reaching again for her napkin, she dabbed some more at her eyes then rolled her neck, took a deep breath, straightened and flashed him a smile that made his heart turn over. ‘What are you going to eat? Seeing as Daniele’s footing the bill, I’m going to select the most expensive items on the menu.’
Before he could correct her assumption, as he should have done the day before, she said, ‘Have you met him?’
‘Daniele?’
She nodded.
‘I met him a few years ago in Paris with his girlfriend. Pieta introduced us.’
The bleak veil cloaking her since he’d joined her lifted in its entirety.
‘Girlfriend? Daniele?’ She leant forward, eyes alight. ‘He’s never had a girlfriend. Lots of scandalous flings, though.’
He shrugged. ‘She was with him. I assumed she was his girlfriend. They acted like a couple.’
‘Daniele with a girlfriend? That’s amazing. Pieta knew they were together?’
‘I assumed so.’
The waiter returned with Felipe’s beer so they ordered their food and Francesca quickly finished her cocktail and ordered another.
‘What were you all doing in Paris?’ she asked