‘Maria has passed away.’ His eyes clouded. ‘That much I do know. I’ve naturally set in motion the standard enquiries. I’ve got sufficient information at my disposal to contact my daughter and I’ve had enough time to figure out...the way forward when it comes to doing that.’
‘Long-haul flight to Argentina?’ Rafael looked at his godfather, whose head was tilted to one side while his mind played with the abundance of revelations that unexpectedly had been dumped on his plate. ‘You’ll have to check with the consultant. You don’t need another heart scare.’ Something inside twisted at the thought of that, a mixture of fear and panic.
‘It was more than a scare!’
‘Tell me why I’m here, David,’ Rafael coaxed gently. ‘As a confidante to this information or for some other purpose?’
‘I can’t go to Argentina—but you can, my dear boy, and you must.’ He sat forward, as serious as Rafael had ever seen him ‘I’ll make it worth your while...’
* * *
Sofia Suarez impatiently tapped her foot and stared out towards the imposing wrought-iron gates that protected the owners of this fabulous property from any strays who might decide to drop in to see whether they might be in luck with handouts.
In this exclusive enclave on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, the wealthy always made sure that they were well protected, rarely opening their doors to anyone they didn’t know.
They had enough money to make sure that hired help took care of whatever they considered beneath them. Which, she thought now—tapping her foot ever-quicker and checking her watch—was why she was here, waiting for the appearance of a gardener who should have showed up an hour and a half earlier.
James and Elizabeth Walters were off skiing with their two young children.
‘No idea why we’ve been landed with this gardener chap when I’ve been perfectly happy getting a team in once a week,’ James had complained to her a week earlier, when he had appeared in the doorway of her bedroom without any advance warning. ‘But my boss has asked me to take the man on as a favour for a friend in London. Anyway, Lizzy and I won’t be around, so you’re going to have to show him the ropes.’
‘Yes, of course, although you did say that this would be allotted holiday time for me,’ Sofia had said, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. James and Elizabeth Walters were very, very fond of dictating exactly what she did with her free time, even though her hours were clearly stated in the job-acceptance form she had signed a year ago.
But she needed this job. The pay was fantastic and she had paid upfront for her online accountancy course. It hadn’t been cheap and, added to that the fact that she tried to help out financially with her aunt, well, unless she won the lottery she was pretty much stuck. Someone in debt was not someone holding any trump cards.
‘We were more than understanding when you had to interrupt your working hours to visit your mother in the hospital,’ her boss had retorted without batting an eyelid. ‘So, grounds for complaint? Don’t think so. We’re going to be gone for a fortnight. You’re going to be twiddling your thumbs, and getting damn well paid for it, so I don’t see where the problem is.’
He had raked his eyes over her in that insolent way that bordered on sexual harassment and stared narrowly. ‘The man is only going to be here for a month at the most. Some nonsense about him needing money while he bums his way around South America. God only knows why these types don’t find decent jobs like everyone else but I have no choice in the matter.’
He’d straightened and stared at her for a few seconds longer than was comfortable and Sofia had done what she always did when her boss made her feel uncomfortable—she gritted her teeth and stared down silently at the floor until he lost interest.
Which he had, having reminded her of the thousand other things she was charged to do in their absence, from sorting out the gardener to cleaning the proverbial silverware. So, twiddling her thumbs? What a joke. That was the one thing she could never be accused of having done and certainly not when she was staring at a list of instructions.
The blazing sun was sinking into a violet sky when, finally, the intercom went and a disembodied voice announced the arrival of the gardener.
‘You’re late,’ Sofia said, not bothering to mince her words. The man had spoken in English and she had replied in same. A nomadic life had made her fluent in it and it helped that the people currently employing her refused to speak Spanish. ‘I’ve been hanging around waiting for you to show up for the past two hours.’
She could scarcely make out the figure on the visual display. She was keen to get him in and out of her way because she had a busy evening lined up with her accountancy books. It was hard enough finding the time to study without wasting precious hours with her ear to the buzzer.
‘Who am I talking to?’
‘This is Señorita Suarez and I’m to show you the ropes while the Walters are away.’ There was a brief pause, and for some reason Sofia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, but the moment passed—to be replaced with mounting irritation, because a minute in and the man was already beginning to get on her nerves.
‘Are you going to let me in?’
Sofia bristled. ‘I will need to ask you some security questions.’
‘Why?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Why?’ Rafael repeated.
Sofia looked around her at the massively expensive furnishings. ‘El señor de la casa,’ she intoned with saccharin sweetness, ‘is a little cautious when it comes to allowing strangers into his house. He’s fond of his possessions remaining on the premises.’
‘El señor,’ Rafael drawled in response, ‘has nothing to fear. I very much doubt there’s a single thing he possesses that I could possibly want.’ He held up the introductory letter David had handed over to him some days ago. He had barely been able to contain his amusement at the thought of his high-powered and much-feared godson slumming it with a lawn mower and taking orders from someone he didn’t know. ‘Peer carefully and you’ll be able to see that I am exactly who I say I am. Name is Rafael and I’m here to look after el señor’s garden for a couple of weeks. Rest assured, I won’t be leaving with his lawn mower and the pruning shears.’
‘You’re Spanish?’
‘So it would seem. Now, open the gate. I’ve spent hours travelling. It’s been a hellish trip. I’m hot and tired and I’m not prepared to spend the next half an hour sweltering out here while I answer pointless questions that don’t need to be asked.’
Sofia could scarcely believe what she was hearing. For one very wicked moment, she almost wished that James and his stuck-up wife were here so that they could experience a cocky, arrogant hired hand who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.
But they weren’t, because they were busy having fun on the slopes. No, she was here, working, as always, beyond her brief. She buzzed open the iron gates and waited until she heard the sharp ring of the doorbell, immediately followed by the thundering of the lion-head brass knocker, as though the man outside couldn’t wait the seconds it might take her to answer the door.
She sprinted and yanked open the front door, letting in the fragrant smell of grass and trees and the soothing orchestra of twilight insects, and then stopped dead in her tracks.
Just for a few seconds. Just as she registered the guy towering in front of her, his hand raised as though about to bang the knocker again.
Drop-dead gorgeous. The breath left her in a whoosh, as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Her eyes widened and she instantly went into self-defence mode, taking one step back, arms folded, although this time, unlike when her boss turned lascivious eyes on her, it was for an entirely different reason.
This