The Alcolar Family. Kate Walker

that you were in bed.’

      She knew how worn out he must really be when he didn’t even rise to the provocation, but simply nodded slowly and murmured, ‘That would be a good idea.’

      ‘Well, then, why don’t you go on up? I’ll tidy things away here and follow.’

      Again, no protest. Could it really be that easy? After the way he had behaved earlier, she very much doubted it, but she wasn’t going to question too strongly—not tonight. She was worn out too, though probably not as exhausted as Joaquin must be on his first day out of hospital. The strain of the past seventy-two hours was catching up with her, and she had spent long hours in the hospital, sitting in a chair by Joaquin’s bed, and then had barely slept when she’d got back to Ramón’s flat.

      Stretching wearily and yawning so widely that she felt her jaw would crack, she switched off the lights and made her way to the stairs, plodding slowly up them, thinking longingly of sinking into her bed. Joaquin would probably be asleep already. He had looked so exhausted that he must have crashed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

      He hadn’t.

      She reached the top of the stair and turned to go along the landing, then jumped in fright as she became aware of the tall, dark, silent figure leaning against the wall in the shadows, waiting for her.

      ‘Joaquin! Oh, you gave me such a fright! What is it? Why are you—is something wrong?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ was the response, in a voice that turned her blood to ice in her veins and made her throat close up so tight that it was difficult to breathe. ‘You tell me.’

      Straightening up and taking a step forward, he kicked open the nearest door. The door to a bedroom—her bedroom, she noted with a sickening lurch of her stomach. The bedroom she had chosen to sleep in tonight, knowing she could not possibly share a bed with Joaquin under the circumstances.

      As the door swung open it revealed what Joaquin must have seen, the details that betrayed her, the silent evidence that revealed her plans. Her nightdress and robe lay on the bed, her wash bag on the dresser. She could only be intensely grateful that she had pushed the case she’d brought back from Ramón’s firmly to the back of the wardrobe so that he didn’t realise she had only just managed to unpack part of her luggage before he and his brother had appeared downstairs. And that all of it was in this room—not the one she had once shared with him.

      ‘I…’ she began but her voice failed her hopelessly.

      ‘You?’ Joaquin questioned cynically, his carved face just a cold mask of contempt and barely controlled cold fury. ‘So just what explanation were you planning on giving me for this? I take it you do have one?’

      ‘Of course I do.’

      The realisation that there was nothing more revealing than her nightdress on show gave a new strength to her words, giving her the courage to face him with a touch of defiance.

      ‘And you’d know what it is if you were thinking straight!’

      Joaquin scowled darkly, glaring at her ferociously.

      ‘Don’t tell me—the doctors’ orders again?’

      ‘Got it in one!’ Cassie retorted sharply. ‘And you’ll also have to admit that it makes sense.’

      The cynically sceptical look he turned on her declared that he found that very unlikely, but she swallowed hard and forced herself to continue.

      ‘You’re just out of hospital. You need a good night’s sleep and for that you need to be undisturbed.’

      ‘And you’ll disturb me?’

      ‘I—I might. Or you might let yourself be disturbed by me. Oh, come on, Joaquin!’ she risked a protest. ‘You promised me that you’d do as I said.’

      ‘I know I did—and I have. But this—’

      He broke off abruptly, glowering at her darkly. Cassie held her breath in apprehension, not knowing what on earth she would do if he flat out refused to co-operate.

      But Joaquin must have been even more tired and out of sorts than she had anticipated, because just as she had drawn in a breath to argue further, to try and persuade him to understand, he gave a deep sigh and lifted his shoulders in a shrug of concession.

      ‘All right. If that’s what you were told, I suppose I can’t argue.’

      ‘It was!’ Cassie assured him, crossing her fingers against the small white lie. ‘Doctors’ orders.’

      ‘And I promised…’

      ‘Yes, you did.’

      Still he held out, looking into the room, black eyes going from the bed to her taut, anxious face and back again.

      ‘All right, then,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll go along with this for now—because I promised. But let me make one thing plain…’

      When he hesitated Cassie froze, knowing she wasn’t going to like what was coming.

      ‘I’ll go along with this for tonight. And only tonight. Tomorrow is another day and tomorrow I want things back to normal—or I’ll want to know why.’