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Dominic stifled a sigh. ‘OK.’
‘Oh, and by the way…’ Jacob looked up at him now ‘…I never thanked you for bringing my granddaughter to me, Dom. You’ve no idea how much it means to me to have her here.’
Dominic pulled a wry face. ‘I have a pretty good idea,’ he said, squeezing his grandfather’s shoulder with genuine affection. ‘Look after yourself, old man. And don’t be overdoing things to try and impress her, yeah?’
‘Then you’re going to have to spend a little time with her yourself, Dom,’ said Jacob staunchly. ‘Introduce her to your friends. I’d like for you all to get along.’ Yeah, right.
Dominic didn’t voice the words, but he wasn’t deceived by the old man’s suggestion. Jacob knew Sarah for one would be as keen to make a friend of Cleo as his mother.
Dominic prepared for the celebratory dinner at Magnolia Hill with little enthusiasm.
He was in no hurry to spend an evening refereeing a slanging match between his grandfather and his mother. And, judging from what Lily had said when he’d spoken to her on the phone earlier, her opinion of their unexpected guest hadn’t improved with time.
He was less sure of Serena.
According to his mother, his aunt was playing a waiting game, neither applauding Cleo’s arrival, nor making any attempt to alienate the girl.
Which was Serena all over, thought Dominic wryly, sliding his arms into the sleeves of a dark blue silk shirt. She must know that her position as her father’s hostess could be in jeopardy and she’d be holding her cards very close to her chest.
As for Cleo herself…
Dominic buttoned his shirt with impatient fingers, studying his reflection in his dressing-room mirror without liking. He really didn’t want to see her again. Not with the image of her as he’d last seen her, beside the pool, still tormenting his mind.
Of course, he’d had a valid excuse for not calling to see his grandfather the night before. The old man had known he was having dinner with Sarah, so Dominic had contented himself with a phone call instead.
Not that his dinner with Sarah had been a particularly enjoyable occasion. She’d still been brooding about his absence the previous evening, and Dominic was beginning to think their affair had run its course. Her mood had soured their meeting, and he’d been glad to get back to his own house.
He’d known Sarah had expected him to stay over. But even after she’d thrown off her petulance, he’d had enough. He doubted he could have sustained a convincing conversation. And as for going to bed with her…
Dominic closed his eyes for a moment. Then, zipping up his trousers, he emerged into the bedroom.
Sarah was standing in the middle of the floor. She had evidently been debating the merits of surprising him in either his bathroom or his dressing room, and her face fell when she saw he was fully dressed.
Dominic had half forgotten he’d invited her to the dinner party. When he’d first arrived at her house the night before, it had seemed the natural thing to do. Now, though, he was definitely regretting it…
‘You’re ready,’ she said disappointedly, and Dominic was inordinately relieved he hadn’t spent any more time than was necessary in the shower.
‘What did you expect?’ he asked, coming to bestow a light kiss on her expectant mouth. ‘We have to be there in twenty minutes.’
‘There’s no rush.’ Sarah’s lips pouted.
‘There is,’ said Dominic flatly, stepping past her to pick up his cellphone from the low table beside the king-size bed. ‘I promised Grandpa I wouldn’t be late.’
‘Oh, Grandpa!’
Sarah spoke contemptuously, and Dominic couldn’t help noticing how her lips thinned when she was agitated.
Even in her apricot sequinned mini-dress, that exposed her slim legs to advantage, and with her cap of blonde hair curling confidingly under her chin, her face had a sulky arrogance that detracted somewhat from its pale beauty.
‘Yes, Grandpa,’ agreed Dominic, not prepared to argue. He glanced towards her. ‘I assume Nelson is waiting outside. Why don’t you go ahead? I’ve got a couple of calls to make before I leave.’
‘But you’re coming with me, aren’t you?’
Sarah was indignant, and Dominic ran a weary hand round the back of his neck.
‘I thought I’d drive my own car,’ he said, aware that he was behaving badly. But, dammit, if he allowed the Cordys’ chauffeur to drive them, Sarah would expect to spend the night at Turtle Cove when they got back.
So what was wrong with that?
Everything!
Sarah got the message, as he’d known she would.
‘You’re still sulking,’ she said accusingly. ‘Just because I was a bit short with you last night—not without good reason, mind you—you’ve decided to punish me in return.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
Dominic wanted to laugh out loud at the ludicrousness of that statement.
‘I just think it would be easier if I didn’t have to rely on Nelson,’ he said. ‘Grandpa may decide he wants a post-mortem after the party is over. It will save you hanging around when I don’t know when I’ll be ready to leave.’
Sarah pursed her lips. ‘Why can’t Jacob wait until tomorrow if he needs to discuss anything with you? For heaven’s sake, Dom, you’re in charge of the Montoya interests, not him.’
‘Don’t let Grandpa hear you saying that,’ remarked Dominic, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Anyway, it’s a good idea, isn’t it? And I am still pretty jet-lagged, you know.’
Sarah considered for a moment, and then came to rest her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m a bitch, aren’t I?’
‘No.’ Dominic’s conscience couldn’t allow her to think that. ‘Look—we can spend time together when I’m not so committed,’ he said, not altogether truthfully. He put an arm about her shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘Right now, things are a bit…hectic. I’m sorry.’
‘You mean because that girl is here,’ said Sarah peevishly. ‘I don’t know what your grandfather’s thinking of, bringing your father’s bastard daughter to Magnolia Hill.’
Dominic’s jaw hardened. ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk about her like that, Sarah,’ he said coldly. ‘You sound just like my mother. You can’t hold Cleo responsible for what her father and mother did before she was born.’
Sarah’s lips curled. ‘But can you understand why—with a sweet wife like Lily—your father could risk impregnating a woman like Celeste Dubois? I mean—it’s disgusting!’
‘Yeah, well…’
Unfortunately, Dominic could understand his father’s situation exactly.
But that was something he had no intention of acting on, so they weren’t that alike, after all.
Cleo was standing beside her grandfather’s chair when she saw Dominic come out of the house with a slim blonde young woman clinging to his arm.
It was evening, and beyond the candle-lit beauty of the terrace it was already pitch-dark. Only the muted roar of the sea reminded her of the walk she’d taken earlier, the perfumed scents of the flowers overlaid by the expensive fragrances worn by their female guests.
Cleo was already tired of keeping a smile plastered to her lips. Her grandfather—and Serena—had introduced her to so many people that she’d had no hope of remembering all their names.
She did know they were here for two reasons, however. One, to please her grandfather; and two, to get a look at Robert Montoya’s bastard.
Ever since her grandfather’s guests started arriving, she’d been aware of their interest and speculation. Aware, too, that many of the whispered conversations, taking place behind discreetly raised glasses, concerned her and her likeness not just to her mother, but to her father, as well.
Not that anyone had mentioned it to her. They’d all been very cordial, very polite. Though she couldn’t exactly call them friendly.
Which was probably due to the fact that Dominic’s mother had stood glaring at her all evening, making her attitude towards her father-in-law’s behaviour all too obvious.
‘At last,’ she heard her grandfather mutter now, and guessed Dominic’s late arrival was what he meant. ‘Where the devil has he been?’ he demanded of no one in particular. ‘I told him I wanted him to be here to welcome our guests.’
Cleo thought she had an idea why his grandson’s arrival had been delayed. The way the young woman with him was hanging on his arm was a fair indication, and she was sure they’d shared more than a car ride here.
Whatever, it was nothing to do with her, she assured herself fiercely. She’d be going back to England before too long and then she’d never see any of them again.
Not surprisingly, Dominic made a beeline for his grandfather, only stopping briefly along the way when one or other of Jacob’s guests spoke to him.
With an easy confidence Cleo could only envy, he parried all their greetings with a rueful aside or a laughing retort, leaving an admiring group of men as well as women in his wake.
Sarah, who’d been forced to let go of his arm, followed him across the terrace. In a strapless, sequin-studded mini-dress, that suited her petite figure, she was every bit as glamorous as Cleo had anticipated Dominic’s girlfriend would be.
Certainly, her outfit was far more expensive than the simple jade slip dress Cleo was wearing; her skin with that delicate look of porcelain, that made Cleo’s skin look almost dusky.
‘Hey, Grandpa!’ Dominic exclaimed when he reached them, squatting down beside the old man’s chair, his expression rueful. ‘I guess I’m in the doghouse, yeah?’
Jacob gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘That depends what you’ve got to say for yourself,’ he declared drily. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘Sarah’s car broke down,’ Dominic replied without hesitation, and Cleo felt her own jaw drop at the total incredulity of his excuse.
‘Say what?’ Jacob stared at him. ‘Can’t you do better than that, boy?’
‘It’s true,’ said Dominic, glancing up into Cleo’s doubtful face.
Obviously she didn’t believe him either, he thought, wishing it didn’t matter to him. Then, straightening, he turned to Sarah, ‘Do you want to tell them or shall I?’
‘Oh…’ Sarah pouted prettily, and Cleo wondered it if was possible to hate someone when you’d never even been introduced to them. ‘Well, Nelson—that’s my father’s chauffeur, Mr Montoya—’
‘Yes, I know who Nelson Buffett is,’ Jacob interrupted her shortly, and with a little sigh she went on.
‘Well, Nelson thought Daddy had put gas in the car and Daddy thought Nelson had.’ She spread her hands innocently. ‘It turns out, neither of them had.’
‘So you ran out of gas?’
‘Yes.’
Sarah nodded, her eyes drifting irresistibly to Cleo, and Dominic realised he was being damnably ignorant in not introducing them.
But he was loath to do it. Cleo looked so beautiful this evening, and he was unwilling to give Sarah a chance to hurt her feelings as his mother had done.
Instead, he turned back to his grandfather. ‘Hey, it was lucky we weren’t travelling together,’ he said, and saw the way Cleo’s eyes widened again. ‘I came along about ten minutes later in the SUV and I offered to go and get some gas for them.’
Jacob sniffed. ‘And couldn’t young Buffett have phoned the garage and had them bail him out?’ he asked, and once again Sarah joined in.
‘He did ring the garage in San Clemente, Mr Montoya, but there’s nobody there at this time of the evening. And we couldn’t leave poor Nelson to walk home, could we?’
Jacob grimaced. ‘I suppose not,’ he said grudgingly. He looked up at Cleo. ‘I guess we’re going to have to forgive him, eh, my dear? Oh, and by the way, you haven’t met Dominic’s girlfriend, have you?’ He paused. ‘This is Sarah, Cleo. Why don’t you ask her what she’d like to drink?’
Sarah’s polite words belied the flush of irritation that stained her cheeks. ‘I’ve been here often enough to get my own drink, thank you. Or Dom can get it, can’t you, darling?’ She linked her arm with his again. ‘How do you do—er—Cleo? Are you enjoying your stay at Magnolia Hill?’
‘Very much,’ Cleo was beginning, when her grandfather caught her hand in both of his.
‘We’re hoping she might consider making her home on San Clemente,’ he said, in a voice that carried right across the terrace. ‘Isn’t that right, Dom? You’re all for it, aren’t you?’
The old devil!
Dominic’s teeth ground together for a moment. The old man knew he’d never discussed any such thing, despite his suspicions of what Jacob had in mind.
But before he could make any response, Cleo said awkwardly, ‘I don’t think we’ve ever talked about that—er—Jacob.’ She refused to call him ‘Grandfather’ in front of all these people, even if that was the way she was beginning to think of him. ‘I certainly don’t think this is the time or the place—’
‘Nonsense!’ But Jacob seemed to realise he’d embarrassed her and he patted her hand reassuringly. ‘We’ll leave it for now.’ He glanced round. ‘Now where’s Luella with the canapés? I told her I wanted them serving as soon as all the guests had arrived.’
There was a significant relaxing of the atmosphere as Jacob got determinedly to his feet. Refusing the help of either his grandson or his granddaughter, he stomped off towards the buffet tables that were set up beneath a sheltering canopy.
Catching Cleo’s eye, Dominic realised that she was more upset by what had happened than either himself or Sarah. He was used to his grandfather’s blunt way of speaking, but Cleo wasn’t, and, detaching himself from Sarah’s clinging hands, he said, ‘Come on. I’ll get us all a drink.’ He nodded towards Cleo’s glass. ‘Is that a pina colada?’
‘This?’ Cleo was taken aback. ‘Um—no. It’s just pineapple juice,’ she said, aware of Sarah’s displeasure at this turn of events. ‘And I don’t need another drink, thank you.’
‘Well, I do,’ said Dominic flatly. And before he’d given any thought to his actions, he’d gripped Cleo’s elbow with a decisive hand and turned her towards the bar set up beside the swimming pool.
He regretted it instantly. He hadn’t forgotten how soft her skin was, or erased the memory of her scent, that tonight was a mixture of musk and spice and some tropical fragrance. But he had blanked it from his mind.
Now, however, it was back, more potent than before.
The side of her breast was so warm and sexy against his suddenly moist fingers. And if she was wearing a bra, it was doing little to hide the way her nipples had peaked and were pressing unrestrainedly against the thin fabric of her dress.
Oh, God!
His arousal was as painful as it was inappropriate. With Sarah—the girl he’d brought to the party, dammit—following closely behind, he had no right to be feeling as if the ground was shifting beneath his feet.
Yet it was. And, heaven knew, he wanted to touch Cleo. Not as he was touching her now, but privately, intimately. To bury his hands in her silky hair and bury another part of his body—that was hot and hard and pulsing with life—in some place equally soft, but tight and wet as well.
He wondered if she’d heard his hoarse intake of breath, the surely audible pounding of his heart. She must have felt his fingers tightening almost involuntarily, because she turned to look at him, her eyes almost as wide and elemental as his own.
He abruptly let her go, surging ahead to where a handful of waiters tended the comprehensive array of drinks his grandfather had provided.
‘Scotch,’ he said without hesitation. ‘No. No ice. Just as it is.’ Then he raised the single malt to his lips and swallowed half of it before turning to address the two girls.
Cleo was wishing she’d accompanied her grandfather, after all. She was far too aware of Dominic, far too conscious of the fact that in other circumstances she wouldn’t have wanted him to let her go.
Everything about him disturbed her: from the lean, muscular strength of his body to the intensely masculine perfume of his skin.
When he’d taken her arm, his heat had surrounded her. The hardness of his fingers gripping her arm had felt almost possessive. She’d wanted to rub herself against him, like a cat that was wholly sensitive to his touch.
