Alejandro's Revenge. Anne Mather

long can you stay?’ Dolores had asked politely, passing her a bowl of rice and beans so that she could serve herself. ‘Edward couldn’t tell us what your plans were.’

      I bet he couldn’t, Abby had fumed silently, noticing that once again Edward was avoiding her eyes. But, ‘I’m not sure,’ she’d responded, deciding he shouldn’t have it all his own way. ‘When Edward told me about his accident I felt I ought to come and see how he was for myself. I hope you don’t mind.’

      ‘Of course we don’t mind,’ Luis Esquival had assured her smoothly, his innate courtesy not allowing him to make any other response. ‘You are Edward’s sister, Abigail. You are welcome here at any time. I hope your brother assured you of that.’

      Abby had managed a smile, but she felt uneasy at accepting their hospitality under false pretences. She’d hardly been able to swallow any of the rather spicy rice and fried beef, which Dolores had told her was a Cuban speciality, and when the meal was over she’d pleaded tiredness and retired to her room.

      She’d hardly exchanged two words with her sister-in-law all evening. Lauren had seemed singularly reticent to get involved in what little conversation there was, and Abby wondered if she suspected why she was here. Surely not. Edward wouldn’t have told her. Though in retrospect Abby had to admit that Lauren had said very little to her husband either.

      So what was she to gauge from that? Did Edward have some justification for his suspicions? He’d left her in no doubt that he believed his happiness was at stake. He’d even told her that he didn’t know how he would go on if Lauren left him. And, while Abby was sure that was an exaggeration, nothing could alter the fact that he was distraught.

      She shook her head. The whole situation was unbelievable. Could he really have invited her here because of some fleeting interest he thought Alejandro had shown in her two years ago? How was she supposed to get a man who was virtually a stranger to her, despite their torrid history, to choose her company over that of his cousin? It was ludicrous. She was engaged to Ross, for heaven’s sake. Just because Edward didn’t like him that didn’t mean she could ignore her fiancé’s feelings and act like a—a tart!

      Picking up the matching earring from the table beside the bed, she padded across the floor to the windows, securing it to her ear as she went. Then, drawing the blinds aside, she unlatched the balcony doors and stepped out into the comparative coolness of early morning.

      A sliver of brightness on the horizon heralded the imminent arrival of the sun, but for the moment the garden below was shrouded in shadow. Yet already she could hear the sound of running water and guessed someone was tending to the plants. The lawns didn’t get to be so green by accident, she mused, and, unwilling to be observed in just her nightshirt, she turned and went back into her room.

      Deciding a shower would serve the dual purpose of filling time and helping to clear her head, Abby walked into the bathroom. It was such a treat, she thought wryly. When she stayed at Ross’s house she had to compete with him for the shower, and her fiancé tended to ignore the fact that the hot water wasn’t unlimited. He often left it running needlessly, so that when Abby went for her shower the water was cold.

      She didn’t have that problem this morning. But it did remind her that she had to ring Ross before she did anything else. Knowing him, she was sure he’d have checked that her flight had arrived safely, but she still needed to explain what was going on.

      Or not.

      Heaving a sigh, she adjusted the shower, wondering what on earth she was going to tell her fiancé when she made her call. If she told him that Edward wasn’t seriously hurt he’d expect her to return home almost immediately. And that was what she should do, she chided herself fiercely. If she just pretended that she’d made a mistake Ross need never know what Edward had asked of her.

      Stepping into the pulsating stream of water, she wondered why she was even hesitating. Delaying her return was just giving her brother false hope. All right, she was prepared to accept that he and Lauren might be going through a bad patch. These things happened. But nothing she did was going to change things. It was up to him to make an effort, to do everything in his power to rekindle whatever it was that had attracted her to him in the first place.

      There were bottles of shower gel and shampoo on a glass shelf to one side of the shower, and Abby chose a lemon-scented mousse to wash her hair. It was good to massage her scalp, to feel the cleansing fragrance refreshing her completely. She emerged feeling infinitely brighter, if no less certain of what she was going to do.

      The long mirrors that lined the walls of the bathroom were barely steamed when she stepped out. Reaching for a towel from the rack, she dried herself quickly and then used the towel to rub the condensation from the mirror nearest to her. Surveying her appearance with a critical eye, she wondered why on earth Edward thought that Alejandro might prefer her to Lauren. It just wasn’t realistic, however she might feel about it.

      She shook her head and the tumbled tangle of dark red curls sprayed water all over her dry shoulders. Reaching for the towel, she dabbed herself dry again, aware as she did so that her nipples were suddenly tight and hard. It was because she’d shivered, she assured herself, turning away from the mirror. But not before her eyes had made a swift appraisal of her narrow waist and rounded hips.

      The realisation that what she was really doing was trying to see herself with Alejandro’s eyes irritated her. Did she really care what he thought of her now? Or was she naïve enough to believe Edward’s assessment of her appearance? A final glance at her backside convinced her. Her brother was desperate, and he’d say anything to get his own way.