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Breakfast with her grandfather was surprisingly enjoyable.
And, although Cleo knew it was due in no small part to Jacob’s determination to put her at her ease, she found him amazingly easy to talk to.
Much like Dominic, she admitted unwillingly. Except that when she was talking to her grandfather, there was no sexual tension between them.
As there was with Dominic.
A shiver of remembrance prickled her spine. She didn’t know what might have happened if his mother hadn’t interrupted them as she had. Or was that simmering awareness between them only in her mind, not his? There was no doubt it played an integral part in the way she reacted to him.
But it was pleasant, sitting in the sunlit luxury of the morning room, overlooking the gardens of the house and the blue-green waters of the Atlantic beyond.
Crisp lemon-yellow linen, gleaming silver flatware, cut glass and bone china, all set on a circular table in the shaded curve of the windows.
Jacob began by saying how sorry he was that she’d lost her parents—even if he was thinking that she’d had no blood tie to them at all. Nevertheless, he was kind enough to express his condolences; to help her to relax and feel there was someone else, besides herself, who cared.
Her apology for not appearing again the night before was quickly dealt with.
‘Dominic was right,’ he assured her, gnarled fingers surprisingly dark against her creamy skin. ‘I should have realised you were tired. Instead of expecting you to be as excited to see me as I was to see you.’
Cleo had no answer to that. Easy-going as he was, she hadn’t to forget how she came to be here. But it wasn’t as easy to hold a grudge in such beautiful surroundings. And hadn’t he been as much a victim of circumstance as she was?
No!
Fortunately, her grandfather was happy to lead the conversation. He seemed quite content to describe the island and its history, entertaining her with stories of the illegal rum-running that had gone on during Prohibition in the United States.
Surprisingly, he’d also mentioned the slavery that had taken place during the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth centuries, too. He’d shocked her by admitting that there were few families on San Clemente who could claim there was no mixed blood in their ancestry.
Indeed, she’d been so engrossed in what he was saying that it wasn’t until the meal was over that Cleo realised how much about her own life he’d gleaned. Just the odd question here and there, but she’d found herself telling him about her job and about Norah, forgetting for a few moments exactly who he was.
He was a clever man, she mused, accepting his invitation to sit on the terrace for a while after breakfast. He’d probably already known half of what she’d told him. But by getting her to confide in him, he’d created a bond between them that would be that much harder to break.
‘Perhaps you’d like a swim,’ he remarked, apparently aware that Cleo had been eyeing the cool waters below the terrace with some envy. ‘Later this afternoon, you might enjoy a walk along the shoreline. I’d like to take you myself, but for now I can recommend the pool.’
‘Oh, no.’ Cleo shook her head. Then, in an outright lie, ‘I don’t have a swimsuit, Mr Montoya.’
‘If you can’t call me Grandpa, call me Jacob,’ he said a little tersely then, continuing his earlier suggestion. ‘A swimsuit is no problem.’ He gestured with his stick towards the cabanas. ‘You’ll find everything you need in one of the cabins. Serena always keeps a selection of swimwear for unexpected guests.’
‘But I’m not really an unexpected guest, am I?’ Cleo regarded him with cautious eyes. ‘I think I’d rather hear why you’ve brought me here now. When—well, for over twenty years you’ve ignored my existence.’
Jacob sighed. ‘It must seem that way, mustn’t it?’
‘It is that way,’ said Cleo flatly. ‘And although I appreciate that you’re ill—’
‘My being ill is the least of it!’ exclaimed her grandfather fiercely. ‘Is that what they told you? That because I’m dying I’ve had a change of heart?’
Cleo felt a little nervous now. She didn’t want to upset him, goodness knew.
‘And—and isn’t that true?’ she ventured, aware that she was treading into deep water. But she had a right to know, she told herself. She’d spent too many years in the dark.
The old man’s fingers massaged the head of his cane for a few pregnant moments, and then he said, ‘How much has Dominic told you?’
‘Oh…’ Cleo could feel her body getting hot now and she shifted a little uncomfortably beneath his knowing eyes. ‘Well, he told me that—that Celeste—’
‘Your mother.’
‘All right, my mother—used to work for the Montoyas.’
‘Yes, she did. She worked for Robert and Lily. I believe Dominic was very fond of her. But he was only a young boy at the time.’
‘Dominic knew her?’
‘Of course. She lived with the family. And until—well, until my son took a fancy to her, Lily and Celeste were good friends.’
‘Friends!’
Cleo was scornful, but Jacob only shook his head. ‘Yes, friends,’ he insisted. ‘We have no class system here on the island, Cleo. Your mother worked for my son and his wife, this is true, but she was never regarded as one of the servants.’
‘So what happened?’
‘You know what happened.’ Jacob grimaced. ‘Robert fell in love with her. Oh, yes.’ He held up a hand as Cleo would have interrupted him. ‘Robert did love Celeste. I am assured of that. But he loved his wife as well and he knew that their relationship would destroy Lily if she found out.’
Cleo bent her head. ‘How convenient that Celeste died.’
Jacob made a sound of resignation. ‘I suppose it does seem that way to you. And I accept the fact that your growing up on the island would have been a constant threat.’
‘To your son!’
‘And to Lily,’ Jacob agreed heavily. ‘She couldn’t have children, you know. If she could, things might have been different.’
‘I don’t think so.’
Cleo couldn’t help the faintly bitter edge that had entered her voice now, and Jacob stretched out a hand and gripped her arm.
‘No one knows what might have happened if cicumstances had been different,’ he said, holding her troubled gaze with his. ‘I’m not totally convinced Robert would have let you go to England. But after Celeste’s death, he was a changed man.’
Cleo made a helpless gesture. ‘And where did my—the Novaks fit into the equation?’
‘Well…’
Jacob released her arm and lay back in his chair. He was looking very pale and Cleo realised this must be a terrible strain on him. She half wished someone—even Lily—would interrupt them. But the breeze was all that stirred the feathery palms.
‘Henry was a decent man,’ her grandfather said at last. ‘But he was ambitious. He thought that moving to England would help him achieve the success he was striving for. He and Lucille had no children, and Lucille and Celeste had been friends. It wasn’t too difficult to persuade them to adopt her daughter.’
Cleo caught her breath. Her mother—her adoptive mother—and her real mother had been friends! That at least accounted for the faded photograph she’d found among her parents’ papers, after they were dead.
She frowned now. ‘But it must have been a drain on their resources. I mean, my father—Henry, that is—didn’t have a job to go to, did he?’
‘No.’ Jacob moistened his lips. ‘We—Robert and I—oiled the wheels of the removal for him. It was…the least we could do.’
Cleo stared at him. ‘You mean, you paid him to adopt me?’ She was dismayed. ‘Oh God. No one told me that!’
‘Don’t take it so hard, my dear.’ Jacob blew out a breath. ‘You have to understand, the Novaks were not wealthy people.’
‘Even so…’
‘They looked after you, didn’t they? They loved you, I’m sure. And, judging by the way you’ve turned out, they did a damn good job of it as well.’
Cleo shook her head, aware that her eyes burned with unshed tears. It was all too much for her to handle. First the news that she wasn’t who she’d always thought she was. And now—horror of horrors—the fact that her parents had had to be paid to adopt her.
Well, they weren’t her parents, of course, she reminded herself. She mustn’t forget that. And it was true, they had loved her and she’d loved them. But how much of their love had been fabricated? she wondered. She would never know now.
‘This has been very hard for you,’ murmured her grandfather regretfully. ‘And believe me, if I could have done it any other way, I would. But we, Robert and I, respected the Novaks’ wishes not to contact you. They wanted you to have nothing more to do with this family, and I suppose I can’t blame them for that. But when I discovered they’d been killed in that accident—’
‘All bets were off,’ said Cleo bitterly, and her grandfather bowed his head in mute acknowledgement.
There was silence for a while. The breeze continued to bring a blessed freshness to the air, and the water in the pool rippled invitingly.
Glancing at her grandfather, Cleo saw he’d closed his eyes and she wondered a little anxiously if he was all right. But his chest was rising and falling rhythmically, so she felt a little better. Probably, he’d just fallen asleep.
She wished she’d agreed to take a swim now. The idea of submerging herself in the cool water was just as attractive as it had been before.
But she was glad they had had this conversation. At least she knew now why the Novaks had adopted her. Even if she felt as if the world as she’d known it had been destroyed.
Pushing herself to her feet, she walked to the edge of the terrace and stood looking down at the marble dolphin that continuously spouted water into the pool. She wished she could be as unfeeling as the fountain. But she was far too emotional for that.
‘Why don’t you?’ her grandfather’s voice interrupted her reverie. ‘Have that swim?’ he suggested, and she turned to gaze at him with incredulous eyes.
‘How did you know—?’
‘What you were thinking?’ His lined face creased into a grin. ‘We’re family, remember?’
Cleo shook her head. ‘I think you’re just very intuitive,’ she said.
‘Well, whatever I am, why don’t you take me at my word?’ He nodded towards the cabanas. ‘Humour me, Cleo. I’d love to watch my beautiful granddaughter enjoying herself at last.’
Cleo had her doubts, but the temptation was greater. Besides, she suspected Jacob would relax if she proved she hadn’t taken offence over what he’d told her.
And, after all, she’d wanted to know the truth, hadn’t she? She’d asked him to tell her how she’d come to be living with—with the Novaks. Not the other way about.
The cabana smelled of pine and salt water. Although it was a freshwater pool, she guessed the cabins were used by anyone who wanted to change. As Jacob had said, there was a fitted rail with a row of colourful swimsuits. Tank suits and bikinis, but not a one-piece outfit in sight.
Blowing out a breath, she examined the suits rather disappointedly. But short of abandoning the idea, she would have to choose one of them to wear.
And, after all, there was no one about—well, except Lily. But she couldn’t see Dominic’s mother caring to watch her take a swim.
She emerged from the cabana wearing the plainest tank suit in the collection. It was a deep blue, with white piping highlighting every seam and hem.
It left a narrow wedge of skin exposed at her midriff, but that didn’t worry her. She was used to that after wearing cropped T-shirts at home.
However, the high-sided briefs made her wonder with unwilling humour if she should have taken Norah’s advice and had a Brazilian wax before taking off her clothes.
Still, it was too late now. She left the cabana, pulling the elastic band off her hair and folding her hair in half before securing it again.
With her arms upraised, her breasts were lifted and the skimpy briefs threatened to reveal more than they concealed. And it was at that precise moment she saw Dominic, across the pool, standing beside her grandfather’s chair.
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_ed30aa30-f6ea-5547-8cdd-ff23509f9a88)
THE breath whooshed out of her lungs with a rush. Her body suffused with heat, yet goose pimples pebbled all over her skin.
She wanted to pull her arms down, to draw the cuffs of her briefs over her buttocks. To somehow compose herself so that he wouldn’t see how his appearance had affected her.
But for some reason, her limbs were frozen like a statue. And she thought how ironic it was that only minutes before she’d been imagining how unfeeling the marble dolphin was.
She wasn’t unfeeling; she was hot and unsteady. Her only consolation was that surely he couldn’t see the pointed hardness of her breasts outlined against the blue silk of her top.
Dominic, meanwhile, looked cool and indifferent. He was wearing another suit, although there was no formal vest or waistcoat in sight. Just Italian silk and pale grey cotton, his tie a splash of charcoal against his shirt.
She could always slip into the pool, Cleo thought, managing to bring her hands down at last, feeling the slick of moisture in her palms.
But that would be a rude and cowardly gesture. And she had no intention of proving Lily’s opinion was right.
Dominic meanwhile was wishing he’d never stepped onto the terrace. He’d seen his grandfather sitting there, alone, and he’d assumed Cleo had gone back to her room. All he’d intended was to clear the air with the old man before leaving. But now his eyes were riveted on the young woman who’d just emerged from the cabana.
God, she was beautiful, he thought. But there was something more than beauty alone that drew him to her. Sarah was beautiful, but he had never felt this way in her presence. Never felt his stomach clenching with awareness, or the wild rush of blood to his groin.
She had a sexual appeal that was beyond anything he had experienced before. And he couldn’t help comparing his feelings to the feelings his adoptive father had had for her mother.
He could almost scent her, he mused grimly, even while he rejected the notion. She made him feel like some kind of jungle predator, his senses spinning with the thought of her naked in his arms.
Dammit!
‘Is something wrong?’
The old man was far too perceptive, and Dominic had to physically force a hollow smile to his lips.
‘I didn’t realise Cleo was here,’ he said, aware that his answer begged even more questions. He pushed his fists into his jacket pockets. ‘Well, as you’re in such good hands, I’ll be on my way.’
‘It’s a pity you can’t stay,’ remarked his grandfather sagely. ‘I know how much you like a swim in the pool.’
‘I had one earlier,’ said Dominic shortly, not best-pleased at being reminded. The brief glimpse of Cleo he’d seen on her balcony was still far too dominant in his mind.
With her hair tumbled about her shoulders, she’d drawn his eyes instinctively. In her skimpy bra and panties, she’d looked even more seductive than she did now. ‘Oh, well…’
Dominic was fairly sure the old man wasn’t deceived, but he wasn’t about to stay around to find out.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘You know I’m having dinner with Sarah this evening. She was pretty peeved when I didn’t get over to see her last night.’
‘She’ll get over it.’ Jacob spoke absently, lifting a hand to Cleo as he spoke. ‘Just so long as you remember we’re having a special dinner here tomorrow evening. I want to introduce Cleo to our friends and neighbours. I want them to know how proud of her I am.’
