Kitabı oku: «The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections», sayfa 16
Slowly she slid from the bed and crossed to stand behind him, aware from his slight movement that he had heard the rustle of the sheets, the almost silent pad of her feet.
Hannah linked her arms around his waist and leaned in against him, holding him close. Long minutes later he gathered her into his arms and carried her into the en suite. There, he filled the spa-bath, switched on the jets, then he stepped in and lowered her down in front of him.
She simply closed her eyes and let the pulsing warm water provide a soothing relaxation. It would be so easy just to drift to sleep, and she almost did, only to open her eyes wide when Miguel scooped her out and wrapped her in a huge bath-towel.
Dry, they returned to the bedroom, and she made no protest when he drew her down onto the bed. With exquisite care he began an erotic tasting that took her to the edge of sensual nirvana, then tipped her over.
Would it always be like this? Hannah wondered on the edge of sleep.
Beautiful, glorious, heart-wrenching sex. Affection, fondness, respect. But not love.
She, who had sworn never to become emotionally involved with another man, had no choice.
Her heart belonged to Miguel. It always had, always would, whether he wanted it or not.
CHAPTER SIX
‘WONDERFUL,’ Elise murmured as she relaxed beneath the canopied section of the comfortable cruiser Miguel had hired for the day.
Hannah adjusted her sunglasses and smiled as Elise pulled the brim of her hat down to shade her face from the sun’s strong rays.
Together they’d driven down to Williamstown at ten this morning, where Miguel had organised to hire a luxury cruiser and captain to cruise the sparkling waters, then return mid-afternoon.
‘It’s nice to get away somewhere quiet,’ Elise said appreciatively. ‘No phones, no visitors, no one-hundred-and-one things to do.’
And no way a certain very persistent Frenchwoman could intrude, Hannah added silently, unable to prevent herself from wondering what Camille’s next move might be.
Miguel and Alejandro were seated at the stern, both casually attired in pale chinos and a polo shirt. Both wore sunglasses and baseball caps, and resembled, Hannah decided, two businessmen relaxing on a rare day off.
All she had to do was look at Miguel to feel her insides begin to melt. Traitorous desire flared, and spread stealthily through her body, heating her blood and sensitising every nerve-end into pulsing life.
It was impossible not to relive the cataclysmic passion they’d shared less than twelve hours before, and, as crazy as it seemed, she was willing to swear she could still feel him inside her. Sensitive tissues throbbed a little from his possession, and there was a part of her that ached for his touch.
At that moment he turned and cast her a long measured glance, and for an instant she could almost imagine he’d read her mind. Then his mouth curved into a slow, infinitely sensual smile that tore her composure to shreds.
‘Lunch,’ Elise stated with evident relish, ‘might be a good idea.’
‘Junior is hungry?’ Hannah queried musingly, and found herself laughing at Elise’s expression.
‘Little missy has very definite ideas on when and what I should eat.’ She stood to her feet and smoothed her hands over her barely perceptible bulge. ‘Today, I have a craving for ham, mayonnaise, gherkins and pineapple.’
Fortunately Sofia had packed a wide selection into a picnic hamper, together with crunchy bread rolls, salmon, chicken, and a variety of salads.
Hannah went inside the cabin and retrieved the hamper, then with Elise’s help she set it out on the table, added bottled water, soft drinks and wine, and called the men to eat.
The fresh air, the faint breeze, made for a very pleasant few hours, and they disembarked and then took the coastal road down to the Port Phillip before returning to Toorak.
A seafood barbecue as the heat of the afternoon sun began to wane completed a relaxing day in good company, and Hannah stacked plates and dishes onto a tray and carried them indoors.
Elise followed her, and together they rinsed and stacked them into the dishwasher in record time.
Hannah wiped down the bench, then paused as Elise touched her arm.
‘May I say something?’
‘Of course.’ Hannah turned and gave Elise her full attention.
‘Alejandro had a woman chase him when I was pregnant with our first son. Savannah made a complete nuisance of herself and caused me immeasurable grief at the time.’ She smiled a little at the memory. ‘Unless I’m reading things wrong, you have a similar nemesis in Camille.’ She drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly. ‘One thing I learned that might help. The Santanas men are one-woman men.’
‘So don’t worry about Camille?’ Hannah queried wryly.
‘Don’t worry about Miguel,’ Elise corrected gently. Her features momentarily clouded. ‘Here we go again,’ she groaned, rolling her eyes an instant before she quickly exited the kitchen.
Miguel and Alejandro entered the house as Elise returned from her mercy dash, and Hannah set the coffee filtering as she extracted cups, sugar and milk.
‘Tea for me,’ Elise requested, and Hannah extracted a tray.
‘Why don’t you go sit by the pool and I’ll bring it out in a few minutes?’
It was pleasant to relax in the quiet evening air and watch the sun go down. The garden lights sprung to life by automatic control, and recessed lighting around the pool area added a luminous glow that was highlighted by underwater pool lighting.
A private fairyland, secluded, peaceful, and a relaxing way to end a lovely day.
Elise voiced the words, and Hannah had to agree.
‘Time to go, querida,’ Alejandro commanded quietly as he stood to his feet. ‘You’re tired.’
‘I am?’ Her eyes assumed a musing gleam. ‘If you say so.’
How many years had they been married? Hannah posed. Six, seven? Yet the intense passion was there, burning just beneath the surface. Somehow she could imagine it would always be so. Yet it hadn’t been in the beginning, she reflected as she stood with Miguel at the front door and watched the tail-lights of their hire car glow in the darkness. An arranged marriage that had gone wrong, with Elise escaping only to find herself involved in a car crash and suffering memory loss.
‘More coffee?’ Hannah queried as she turned away from the door.
‘No,’ Miguel refused as he locked up and set the security alarm. ‘I need to pack. Alejandro is picking me up at seven-thirty en route to the airport.’
Where the Sanmar company Lear jet would fly them across the vast Australian continent to Perth.
Without a word she crossed the foyer with him and ascended the stairs to their room where she watched in silence as Miguel extracted a leather holdall and rapidly tossed in a few shirts, a pair of trousers, together with other essentials.
The thought of him being absent for a few days didn’t thrill her at all, and she gathered up a silky nightshirt, then entered the en suite to shower.
Miguel joined her there minutes later, and she felt acutely vulnerable as he took the soap from her hand, using it gently over every inch of her body before extending it to her to return the favour.
For a second she hesitated, and the breath caught in her throat as he cupped her face and slanted his mouth down to cover her own in a kiss that was so tender it was all she could do not to cry.
It was a while before they both emerged, and towelled dry, re-entered the bedroom and slipped beneath the covers.
He reached for her, and she went to him willingly, curving her arms round his neck as she pulled his head down to hers.
Miguel indulged her, allowing her to take the initiative, until he stilled her hands and held them.
‘Amante, no. As much as I want you, last night—’
‘Was wonderful,’ Hannah assured. ‘Earth-shattering.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Don’t,’ she pleaded. ‘Think, I mean,’ she added quickly. ‘Just feel. Please.’ She extricated her hands and ran light fingers down his chest, traced a pattern over his navel, then moved low. ‘I want to make love with you.’
And she did, with exquisite care, rising above him as she took in his length, feeling acute pleasure, enclosing him tightly she began to move.
Yet it was Miguel who took control and measured the pace, making it a slow erotic dance that shattered them both with its intensity. Then he brought her down to him and held her long after her breathing returned to normal and she slept.
Saying goodbye was harder than it had ever been before, and she wanted to say don’t go. Except the words never found voice, and she managed the semblance of a warm smile as he kissed her briefly before moving quickly out to the car and slipped into the front seat beside Alejandro.
Fortunately there wasn’t much time to reflect on Miguel’s departure as she returned to the dining room to finish the last of her breakfast and skim the daily newspaper before ascending the stairs to get ready for work.
The replacement salesgirl sent by the agency proved to be a dramatic improvement on Chantal, and Hannah began to relax as the morning progressed.
Renee rang to check how the new girl was shaping up, and Miguel called to say they’d landed in Perth.
When the phone rang again minutes later Hannah automatically lifted the receiver and intoned her usual greeting.
‘Bonjour, Hannah.’
The voice on the other end of the phone was familiar. Far too familiar, and not one she wanted to hear.
‘How did you get my number?’ A silly question, she silently castigated herself the instant the words slipped from her lips.
‘Dearest Hannah,’ Luc drawled with cynical humour. ‘Your boutique has a name, which is listed in the telephone directory.’
The connection to Camille was obvious. ‘What do you want?’
‘Ah, chérie,’ he chastised softly. ‘Straight to the point.’
‘I don’t have time to chat.’ Her voice was distant, formal.
‘Meet me for coffee.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You have to break for lunch, surely?’
‘Yes, but I don’t intend to have it with you.’
‘Afraid, chérie?’
Had he always been this insufferably arrogant? She almost cringed at the thought she’d once been attracted to him. ‘Of you? No.’ She replaced the receiver, and turned towards the sheaf of invoices waiting to claim her attention.
A client entered the boutique, and Hannah watched surreptitiously as Elaine moved forward with a practised greeting. In only a matter of hours the girl was showing her worth, and Hannah felt cautiously hopeful she’d work out.
Elaine took a lunch break at midday, and on her return an hour later Hannah crossed the street to the café she usually frequented. The food was good, the coffee superb.
Big mistake, she realised within seconds of entering the busy eatery. Being a creature of habit had its downfall, for anyone familiar with her regular routine would be aware this particular café was her favourite haunt for lunch…whether she chose food to take away, or took the time to eat in.
Seated at a table overlooking the street was Luc Dubois, looking the relaxed urbane sophisticate he aspired to be.
Now why wasn’t she surprised to see him there? Luc did nothing without motivation. It made her feel distinctly wary.
‘Bonjour, chérie,’ Luc greeted with deliberate warmth. ‘I knew if I sat here long enough it would be only a matter of time before you arrived.’
‘I must remember to change my eating venue.’ Without a further word she turned on her heel and walked out again.
The entire street held several equally trendy eating places. She’d go somewhere else.
Five minutes later she was seated at a table and had just given her order when someone slid into the seat opposite.
‘Whatever the lady ordered,’ Luc instructed the waiter, ‘make it two.’
Hannah cast him an arctic glare. ‘Just what in hell are you trying to pull?’
Luc extended one arm in a sweeping gesture. ‘We’re in public,’ he indicated with an eloquent shrug. ‘Why not combine lunch with a little reminiscing?’
Hannah arched one eyebrow. ‘To what purpose?’
He tried to look hurt. ‘Why, chérie. We shared some good times together.’
She spared him a bitter smile. ‘It took me three months to discover your charm was only an act.’
‘Not all the time.’
‘Oh…p-l-e-a-s-e,’ she discounted wearily.
‘The attraction was Daddy’s bank account and my healthy annuity. I was irrelevant.’ Every instinct told her to get up and walk out now.
The waiter delivered two lattes, and against her better judgement she tore open a sugar tube and tipped the contents into the milky froth. Luc did the same.
She cut straight to the chase. ‘What has Camille paid you to do?’
He spread both hands in a conciliatory gesture.
‘Why should Camille have anything to do with me wanting to share a coffee with you?’
She speared him with a look. ‘Don’t take me for a fool.’
The waiter arrived with two plates, each containing a salad sandwich. As he turned away a flash bulb exploded nearby, and she caught a brief glimpse of a photographer making a rapid exit.
‘Pay dirt,’ Luc informed with a cynical smile.
It all clicked into place in an instant, and Hannah rose to her feet in one angry movement, extracted a note from her purse, then flung it down onto the table and walked out into the street.
Dammit, she should have seen it coming! Luc played a tune to the highest bidder. In this instance, Camille. Another step down a diabolical path towards Camille’s main goal…Miguel. Now, there was photographic evidence Hannah had shared a meal with Luc. It didn’t take a genius to work out how Camille intended to use the photograph.
A car horn blared, and she halted mid-step. Dear God, she whispered shakily as realisation hit that she’d stepped off the footpath onto the road. Get a grip!
Minutes later she entered the boutique, caught Elaine’s surprised look, and offered a humourless smile. ‘That bad, huh?’
‘Are you okay?’
Hannah attempted to downplay the past thirty minutes. ‘Something disagreed with me.’
‘Or someone?’
‘You’re good,’ Hannah accorded wryly. ‘Any problems while I was gone?’
‘I sold two shirts, a scarf, and took two orders.’
‘Well done.’
‘You weren’t away long. Did you get to eat?’
‘I lost my appetite.’ Wasn’t that the truth!
It was after six when she arrived home, and she ate the meal Sofia had prepared for her, then she retreated to the study and keyed in the digits to connect with Miguel’s mobile, only to get his voice-mail.
Maybe he and Alejandro were out to dinner. She left a message, then took a shower and changed into jeans and a singlet top.
Her mother called, and Hannah accepted an invitation to dinner the following evening. They chatted for a while, catching up on each other’s news, and afterwards she watched a television movie before opting to indulge herself by reading in bed.
It was almost eleven when the sudden peal of the telephone startled her into dropping the book, and she caught up the receiver, uttered a brief curse as it slipped from her fingers.
Seconds later she managed an articulate greeting, and heard Miguel’s husky voice on the line.
‘Did I wake you?’
‘No,’ Hannah said at once. ‘I was reading.’
His soft chuckle set all her fine body hairs standing on end. ‘You left a message to call.’
‘I—’ She hesitated, then opted for the banal. ‘How are things going?’
‘What is it?’ Miguel demanded in a dangerously quiet tone.
‘What makes you think something’s wrong?’
‘Querida,’ he drawled with deceptive mildness. ‘Don’t stall.’
‘Luc came into the café opposite the boutique during my lunch break.’ She could almost see his features harden. ‘I refused to join him.’
‘There’s more to the story?’
‘Try having him follow me, sit down at the same table after I’d ordered, then, just as the waiter delivered the food, a photographer appears from nowhere and captured the two of us apparently sharing a meal.’
‘He set you up.’
‘I should have seen it coming,’ Hannah said wretchedly.
‘I’ll take care of him.’ His voice was tensile steel and just as dangerous.
‘What are you going to do?’
Miguel smiled grimly on the other end of the line. ‘Ensure he doesn’t come near you again.’ He waited a beat. ‘Or he will answer to me.’
Hannah shivered. ‘Miguel—’
‘Tomorrow there will be someone to shadow your every move.’
Comprehension dawned. ‘I don’t need a bodyguard!’
There was a brief silence, then he said hardly, ‘My decision, Hannah.’
‘Shouldn’t it also be mine?’
‘Accept it as a protective precaution.’
‘And if I choose not to?’ she pursued, angered by his high-handedness.
‘The bodyguard stays.’
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. ‘I don’t like tyrannical men.’
‘Tough,’ Miguel reiterated succinctly. ‘Alejandro can wrap up the deal. I’ll be on the late afternoon flight Wednesday.’
Now she was getting steamed. ‘Don’t cut an important business deal short on my account.’
‘You, amante, are more important than any business deal.’
‘Me, or my vested interest in the Martinez half of the Sanmar corporation?’
‘It’s as well the breadth of a continent separates us,’ Miguel declared with chilling softness, ‘or I would take you to task.’
‘For daring to speak the truth?’
She had the distinct impression he was actively controlling his temper. ‘It will keep.’
Hannah had had enough. ‘Goodnight, Miguel.’ She cut the connection, and replaced the receiver.
Overbearing, autocratic man! A bodyguard? Was he mad?
She picked up the book and tried to get back into the characters, the story, only to close the cover and toss it down onto the bed.
A protective precaution, indeed! Her teeth worried the soft part of her lower lip. Luc was unlikely to do her physical harm. She doubted he’d risk life or limb or arrest, no matter what price Camille offered him. Or could she be wrong?
It wasn’t a comfortable thought, and one that kept her awake long after she’d switched off the bedside lamp.
Dreams invaded her subconscious, a series of scary sequences where she was mysteriously pushed from behind into the path of an oncoming vehicle, and worse, driving a car with brakes that didn’t respond when she most needed them.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HANNAH was in the middle of eating breakfast when the ’phone rang, and she answered it on the third ring.
‘Buenos días.’ Miguel’s faintly accented voice curled round her nerve-ends and tugged at something she was loath to analyse. ‘You slept well?’
No, and I missed you like hell. ‘Thank you.’
‘That’s not an answer,’ he reproved. Would it help her to know he’d lain awake until almost dawn?
‘It’s all I’m prepared to give.’
‘Be as angry as hell, querida,’ he warned silkily. ‘It won’t make any difference.’
‘That’s an ambiguous statement. I imagine there’s a purpose for your call?’
He didn’t know whether to laugh or repress the need to wring her neck. ‘Remind me to beat you.’
‘Lay one hand on me, and I’ll…’
‘Lost for words?’
‘Too many choices,’ Hannah reiterated with crushing cynicism.
At the risk of having her hang up on him, he relayed pertinent details of the man he’d hired to take care of her.
‘Rodney Spears is thirty-two, ex-police, average height, bulky frame, fair hair, blue eyes. He’s driving a late model dark blue Holden sedan.’ He gave the registration number. ‘He’ll be at the house in ten minutes to introduce himself.’
The bodyguard. Hannah clenched the receiver, and threw the cat stretched out on the tiles nearby such a dark look the poor animal leapt to its feet and ran from the room.
‘Next you’ll tell me he’s an expert in unarmed combat and a sharp marksman.’
Miguel didn’t answer, which in her mind was an admission by avoidance. ‘Apart from the initial introduction this morning, he’ll remain unobtrusively in the background. You won’t notice him. Nor will anyone else.’
‘This is beginning to sound like a scene from a cheap detective movie,’ she alluded cynically.
‘Indulge me.’
‘How long is this subterfuge to continue?’
‘For as long as it takes.’
‘Do I entertain him for breakfast and dinner?’
Miguel’s faint laughter sent goose bumps scudding down her spine. ‘He has the days, querida. I get to take care of you at night.’
‘My guardian angel,’ Hannah remarked in droll tones.
‘You could thank me.’
‘I’m more likely to hit you,’ she retaliated fiercely.
‘Do you have any plans for tonight?’
‘Dinner with my parents.’
‘Why don’t you stay with them overnight?’
This was too much. He was too much! ‘I’m way past the age of requiring a babysitter.’ She took in a deep breath in an effort to control her anger. ‘Aren’t you taking this protection thing just a bit too far?’
‘No,’ Miguel declared with hard inflexibility. ‘Do as I ask. Please.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
He wanted to reach down the line and shake her. Stubborn independence didn’t come close! Yet it was those very qualities he admired in her. But not when he was several thousand miles away.
‘I don’t want to see you upset or hurt.’ His voice deepened slightly. ‘Comprende?’
‘Okay, you’ve made your point,’ she conceded, and heard him expel a faint sigh.
‘Gracias.’
Sofia escorted a man fitting the bodyguard’s description into the breakfast room, and Hannah lowered her voice.
‘The cavalry has arrived.’
‘I’ll call you later.’
He did, and she was able to report Luc hadn’t telephoned or shown up at the café.
The day had gone well, with new stock snapped up by various clients. Renee called to say there would be a change of plan and they’d eat at a restaurant.
‘I’ll go home and change first, then meet you there. Six-thirty?’
Should she alert Rodney Spears? Just as she thought about dialling his mobile, he rang through to confirm her evening plans, and carefully noted the changes.
Hannah checked her rear-vision mirror as she pulled out from the car park, and glimpsed a dark blue sedan follow at a discreet distance.
Then she lost him in the flow of traffic, and she didn’t catch sight of the sedan until an hour later when she left the house en route to the restaurant.
It was, she reflected silently, totally unnecessary for him to shadow her every move. When did the man eat, for heaven’s sake? Hamburgers and fries at a drive-through? And he had to sleep some time, surely?
Miguel was probably paying him a small fortune, but that didn’t stop her from offering Rodney a one-hundred-dollar bill to eat in the restaurant.
‘Look on it as a bonus,’ she advised when he offered a protest. ‘I’ll go ahead and ensure you get a table.’
She did, and she’d only been seated a few minutes when Renee and Carlo entered the foyer.
‘Darling, have you been waiting long?’ Renee greeted anxiously. ‘We got held up in traffic.’
It was a pleasant evening. The food was superb, each course presented with flair and artistry. Hannah sipped a half-glass of wine throughout the meal, and together they caught up on each other’s news.
‘How is Cindy?’ Renee broached as she forked a few morsels of salad, then speared a sliver of chicken.
‘She was discharged this morning.’
Renee looked at her daughter carefully. ‘One imagines Luc’s appearance at the Leukaemia Charity Ball was deliberate, rather than a chance circumstance?’
‘I have no idea,’ Hannah indicated with a slight shrug. ‘Nor do I care.’
‘It doesn’t bother you that he’s in town?’
‘Why should it? He’s a bad memory I’d prefer to forget.’
‘He hasn’t attempted to contact you?’
‘What is this?’ she queried lightly. ‘The third degree?’
‘You would tell us if he proves to be a nuisance?’ her father countered insistently.
‘He won’t get the opportunity.’ Her omnipotent husband was taking care of it. She spared a glance towards the bodyguard’s table, and saw that he was just finishing up.
She could confide in her parents, but what was the point in worrying them unnecessarily? She opted not to suggest she follow them home and stay overnight. She hadn’t done so before on any of the other occasions Miguel had been away. If she suggested it now, their suspicions would be aroused. And what was the point? In her opinion, Miguel’s precautions were way over the top. Besides, the house and grounds were secure with a state-of-the-art security system.
When the waiter cleared their plates Hannah declined dessert, the cheeseboard, and settled for coffee. It had been a leisurely meal, and nice to catch up with her parents away from the social scene.
‘We should discuss Christmas, darling,’ Renee ventured. ‘I thought I’d do lunch this year, and invite Esteban.’
Christmas? Why, that was—
‘Nine weeks away, darling,’ her mother reminded. ‘The first of the pre-Christmas social festivities begins next week.’
Heavens, it was that close? ‘I’ll check with Miguel, but I’m sure lunch will be fine.’
‘Well, this is a nice surprise.’
Hannah heard her father’s words an instant before she felt a hand touch her shoulder.
‘What will you check with me, querida?’
She turned her head at the sound of that deep, faintly accented drawl, and felt the floor drop away.
Miguel?
‘I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow night,’ she managed an instant before his mouth closed over hers in a brief, tantalising kiss. The quick sweep of his tongue wreaked havoc with her senses, and it took a few seconds to regain her scattered thoughts.
Why was he here at this restaurant?
‘I caught a taxi from the airport.’
‘Have you eaten?’ Renee queried warmly as he took the chair next to Hannah.
‘On the plane,’ Miguel confirmed. ‘However, I’ll join you for coffee.’ He caught hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, then he linked his fingers through her own and rested them on his thigh.
His smile left her breathless, the faint teasing quality stirring her emotions to fever pitch within seconds.
‘What will you check with me?’ he repeated, giving Hannah his total attention.
It wasn’t fair that one man should possess such devastating sensuality, or that she could be rendered so intensely vulnerable by his look, his touch.
From somewhere she restored order to her scattered thoughts. ‘Christmas. Renee mentioned lunch, if it suits your father to join us for dinner.’
How did Miguel know she’d be dining at this restaurant?
Rodney Spears, Hannah concluded. The bodyguard had obviously reported the change in venue to Miguel. But what had occurred to influence Miguel to drop everything and fly home at a moment’s notice?
Whatever it was, it had to wait until they were alone, and she toyed with her coffee, stirring it unnecessarily, then she sipped the contents without registering the excellent espresso blend.
The next hour seemed to be one of the longest in her life, and she breathed an inward sigh of relief when Miguel indicated they would leave.
Hannah burst into speech the instant they were inside the car, and Miguel effectively silenced her by placing a hand over her mouth.
‘It’ll keep until we get home.’ He put the car in gear and reversed out before heading towards the exit.
‘The hell it will,’ she said fiercely as he joined the flow of traffic and headed towards Toorak.
Miguel slanted her a long glance as he drew to a temporary halt at a set of lights. ‘The thought that I might have cut my trip short just to be here with you does not please you?’
‘I’m still mad at you over the bodyguard bit.’ She met his gaze and held it, then the lights changed and he gave the road his attention. ‘I take it I have Rodney to thank for reporting to you my every move?’
‘That’s what I pay him to do.’
‘A case of total overkill.’
‘You may change your mind when you see what I have to show you.’
Something in his tone stilled the retort she was about to utter. A cold hand closed round her heart, and she searched his features, noting the hard set of his jaw, the serious expression which didn’t bode well.
‘It’s Camille, isn’t it?’ Hannah queried quietly. ‘What has she done?’
Miguel turned the car into their driveway, paused while the electronically controlled gates swung open, then he headed towards the house. Within minutes he entered the garage and cut the engine.
He popped the boot and removed a bag and his briefcase. ‘Let’s go indoors, shall we?’
He led her into the study, dropped his bag to the floor, then he placed the briefcase on the desk, unlocked it, and extracted a large manila envelope.
‘A scanned copy of these was sent to me by e-mail today.’ He withdrew six colour prints and spread them out on the desk. ‘Look at them carefully.’
There was no mistaking the first three prints. They featured herself and Luc sharing lunch. The second three prints were something else entirely.
Miguel and Camille seated at a table together. Worse, they were looking into each other’s eyes with an expression only lovers shared.
Hannah felt sick, and it was all she could do to regulate her breathing. Dear heaven. Miguel and Camille?
‘Look at them very carefully, querida,’ Miguel prompted gently. He was almost afraid to touch her for fear she might shatter. A silent rage reasserted itself, and he consciously held it in check. ‘They are not quite what they seem.’
‘They look real enough to me.’
‘As they are meant to.’ He picked up one print and pointed to Camille. ‘If you look very carefully, you will see there is a slight difference in the reflection of light.’ He picked up a pen and pointed its tip to the print. ‘Here. Do you see?’
The texture wasn’t quite the same, the shade of light reflecting from one set of features compared to the other was fractionally different.
