Once he started looking it was hard to stop. She was the most dramatically beautiful woman he had ever seen. A bare scrubbed face only emphasised the crystal purity of her perfectly symmetrical features; the skin, stretched tighter after her sleepless night, across the beautiful bones was satiny smooth; her sleepless pallor and the dark smudges made the colour of her eyes appear even more dramatic than usual.
It was a major improvement to the way she had looked the night before. Last night she had looked … Struggling to hold onto his train of thought, Santiago narrowed his eyes in concentration and broke contact with her sapphire stare.
The muscles along his angular jawline quivered as he recalled the attitude of the doctor, who turned out to be not the family friend but a locum who seemed barely shaving, standing in. The man, having already called an ambulance for Ramon, had seemed inclined to underplay the severity of Lucy’s condition.
To Santiago it had seemed logical to err on the side of caution and he had been far from convinced by the doctor’s assertion that staying where she was and reviewing the situation tomorrow was the best course of action in Lucy’s case.
He had been proved right and Santiago had been ready to admit as much this morning. The doctor deserved an apology and he respected the fact the other man had not rolled over and said yes sir—a response that Santiago encountered all too often.
The doctor’s response to his apology had been a good-natured shrug.
‘I’ve been called worse and threatened with worse,’ he’d said. ‘Though not from anyone who looked quite so capable of carrying through with the threats,’ he’d admitted with a rueful roll of his eyes. ‘It’s hard for people to be objective when they are emotionally involved.’
Santiago had been midway through assuring the man that he was not in any way emotionally involved with the patient, that in point of fact he barely knew the woman, when he had realised that, the more he protested, the more he sounded like someone in denial.
He had let the subject drop.
‘She’s been asleep for hours and hours.’ Gabby relinquished her perch on the bed but only took one step towards the door before her curiosity got the better of her. ‘And the doctor says that no one can catch anything. You’re not … contagious …?’ She glanced towards her father, who nodded. ‘And all we need to do is maintain …’ Again the glance. ‘Basic good hygiene.’
‘Basic good hygiene. Did you really ride Santana?’
Lucy’s eyes flew guiltily to Santiago and she discovered with a little shocking thrill that he was staring at her. Guilty heat poured into her face. ‘I … it was a … mistake.’
‘And you fell off?’
Take it like a man, Lucy, she told herself. ‘Yes, I fell off.’ Some people might call it bad luck and some, she thought, flashing a glance to the silent man before her, might call it what I deserved.
‘Did it hurt?’
‘Not much.’
‘But you didn’t die. I’m glad.’
Amused by the solemn little girl and her apparent fixation on the gruesome details of the accident, Lucy smiled and said, ‘It was nothing.’
‘People do die falling off horses,’ the girl replied matter-of-factly. ‘My mamá did.’
Lucy’s horrified intake of breath sounded loud in the silent room.
‘SHE was dead when Papá found her—’
This casual revelation drew another exclamation from an unprepared Lucy before Santiago, his deep voice calm and wiped of any hint of emotion, cut across his daughter.
‘Gabby, leave Miss Fitzgerald in peace. You can interrogate her later.’
Lucy’s eyes flew to his face. In profile his expression was veiled, nothing other than the suggestion of tension in the muscles along his firm jaw to suggest they were discussing a tragedy.
Tears started in her eyes as an empathic shudder ran through her body … to lose his wife in a senseless accident and to discover her body … A bone-deep chill settled on Lucy as she realised what he must have thought when he found her … Oh, God, to have it all brought back … and I thought he was overreacting!
He was a tough man, but even steel had weaknesses.
The horrid realisation that she had been the catalyst for bringing back heaven knew what sort of nightmarish memories made her feel like an utterly selfish … And it was her fault and why …?
She had known it was wrong and she had done it anyway.
‘But, Papá, I …’ The girl met her father’s eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘All right, but I was only—’
‘Say goodbye to Miss Fitzgerald, Gabriella.’
‘Goodbye, Miss Fitzgerald,’ she trotted out obediently.
‘Goodbye, Gabby.’ No mystery why Santiago’s parenting skills veered towards the overprotective!
The child threw a half smile at Lucy over her shoulder before she left the room, dragging her feet with exaggerated reluctance.
Lucy half expected him to follow his daughter out, but instead Santiago moved into the room, closing the door behind him.
‘Your wife died …’ Lucy began awkwardly. ‘The circumstances … I didn’t know …’
His shoulders lifted. ‘There is no reason you should know.’ Subtitles were not required to read the silent addition of back off!
‘So you are feeling better?’ His eyes touched the purple smudges beneath her eyes. ‘The lab results on Ramon have confirmed the strain of bug … You have been relatively lucky. They have kept him in to rule out any complications.’
Her eyes widened in alarm. ‘Complications?’
‘Apparently there have been rare cases when the kidneys are affected. It is only a precaution. The doctor will be here to see you shortly. In the meantime just ring the bell.’ He nodded to the old-fashioned arrangement above the bed and Lucy visualised it ringing in the nether regions of the place—she had no intention of using it or of staying in bed.
‘In the meantime I am instructed to tell you to take plenty of fluids.’
It would be a brave person who instructed him to do anything. ‘That’s very … kind of you.’ Kind was not a word she had ever imagined using in relation to this autocratic man but he had been, and she had not exactly been grateful. ‘But totally not necessary. I’m fine. If someone could bring my clothes—’ holding back her hair with one hand, she pulled back the covers ‘—I’ll—’
‘You’re weak as a kitten,’ he said, placing a finger on her chest that sent her back against the pillows. Pulling back the bed covers, he leaned in to tuck them around her, affording Lucy a smell of the soap he had used mingled with the warm male smell of him.
‘You can’t keep me here against my will!’
He nodded his head. ‘True, I can’t, always assuming of course that I would want to.’ His amused glance travelled over her rigid figure, making Lucy painfully aware of how awful she must look … Several steps down from dragged through a hedge was clearly no temptation … not that she wanted to tempt him.
He took a step back and nodded towards the door. ‘Feel free to go back to the finca if you wish.’ Bowing his head, he made a sweeping gesture of invitation.
Suspicious of the easy victory—why the sudden climb down?—she viewed him through narrowed blue eyes