Sweet Revenge. Эбби Грин

child for her age and eventually there would be questions.

      But for now, one of the most important hurdles had been conquered.

      Marcello pressed a light kiss to his daughter’s temple. ‘Now we will all get ready to go visit with your bisabuelo, Ramon.’

      He rested a hand briefly on Shannay’s shoulder. ‘Fifteen minutes. I’ll wait for you downstairs.’

      Together they chose Nicki’s prettiest dress, and with her hair neatly caught together she followed Shannay into her room as Shannay selected a slim-fitting dress in jade linen, attached a belt, then tended to her hair and make-up beneath her daughter’s interested gaze.

      Marcello was standing in the foyer as they descended the stairs, and he smiled at Nicki’s childish beam when she placed her small hand in his on reaching his side.

      Carlo drove through the suburban avenues to Ramon’s mansion, parking it in the forecourt immediately adjacent to the main entrance.

      Shannay was unprepared for the physical changes in the elderly man, who’d been one of the few Martinez family members to view her kindly before and during her brief marriage to his eldest grandson.

      She remembered him as a strong man, despite his advancing years. Vibrant and powerful, yet compassionate to the young woman who’d captured Marcello’s heart.

      Ramon had encouraged her struggle to learn the Spanish language, to come to terms with the Martinez wealth and lifestyle, and to accept the things she couldn’t change.

      In a way, he’d been her mentor, and to now discover the shell of the man she’d once adored was heartbreaking.

      At first she was tentative, unsure whether the affection they’d shared still existed. After all, it had been she who’d left under cover of night, leaving only a brief note for Marcello to find on his return home, and no word for anyone else.

      ‘Holà.’ It wasn’t so much the greeting, but the husky-voiced delivery accompanied by a gentle smile that filled her eyes with unshed tears.

      ‘Ramon.’ She didn’t hesitate in crossing to the cushioned chair where he sat. Nor did she pause in brushing her lips to his cheek. ‘How are you?’

      The dark eyes twinkled with humour. ‘How do I look?’

      She tilted her head slightly to one side. ‘A little less the Martinez lion than I remember.’

      ‘How beautifully you lie.’ His soft laughter almost undid her. ‘But I forgive you for indulging an old man.’ He caught hold of her hand and held it within his own. ‘Now introduce me to my great-granddaughter.’

      Marcello moved forward with Nicki held in his arms.

      ‘Nicki,’ he said gently, ‘this is Ramon.’

      Ramon’s features softened dramatically, and his eyes misted. ‘Bring her closer.’

      For a moment Nicki looked hesitant, then she nodded as Marcello offered a few soft, reassuring words.

       ‘Holà, Bisabuelo.’

      Shannay’s eyes widened in startled surprise. The pronunciation was good. Who? Marcello … of course, possibly coached by Maria.

      For a moment she had mixed feelings, then they were overcome by Ramon’s obvious delight.

      ‘Nicki. A beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,’ he said gently.

      ‘Marcello—my daddy—sometimes calls me pequena,’ Nicki said solemnly. ‘That means little.’

      His smile melted Shannay’s heart. ‘Indeed it does. You must visit often, and I will teach you some Spanish.’

      ‘I’ll have to ask Mummy if it’s OK.’

      ‘Of course,’ Ramon agreed with equal solemnity, and cast Shannay an enquiring glance.

      ‘It will be a pleasure.’ How could she say anything else?

      ‘Marcello shall bring you.’

      Nicki looked momentarily unsure. ‘Mummy, too?’

      ‘Naturally. We shall make it mornings, then you will have the rest of the day to explore.’ He glanced up at the slight sound of a door opening. ‘Ah, here is Sophia with our tea.’

      Tea with delicious bite-size sandwiches and pastries, some pleasant conversation, after which Marcello indicated they should leave.

       ‘Hasta mañana.’

      Until tomorrow.

      Carlo drove them past the Warner Bros Park, a visit to which Marcello promised as a treat in store.

      ‘You’re a busy man,’ Shannay protested lightly.

      ‘Impossible I have learnt to delegate?’

      ‘Improbable.’

      ‘You are wrong.’

      She looked at him carefully. ‘We don’t expect you to give up your time.’

      Dark eyes travelled to her mouth and lingered there a moment too long. ‘It is my pleasure to do so.’

      Pleasure being the operative word, and unmistakable.

      Shannay could feel colour tinge her cheeks, and she shot him a dark glance before becoming seemingly engrossed in the scene beyond the car window.

      It was during dinner that evening that she brought up his social life, and a firm reiteration she didn’t require to be entertained … especially by him.

      ‘Won’t your—er—’ she paused with deliberate delicacy ‘—current lover,’ she lightly stressed, ‘become impatient at your absence?’

      One eyebrow slanted in silent mockery. ‘From her bed?’ And noted with interest the increased thud of a pulse at the base of her throat. ‘Possibly,’ he drawled, and took his time in adding, ‘If I had one.’

      She refused to rise to the bait. ‘Estella has become the consummate mistress?’

      ‘Something you would need to ask of her husband.’

      Estella had married? ‘I find it difficult to believe she gave up on you.’

      His smile was a mere facsimile. ‘It takes two, amada, and I was never a contender.’

      It wasn’t easy to feign indifference, but she managed it. ‘Could we change the subject?’

      ‘Yet you brought it up,’ he reminded with hateful simplicity.

      ‘Is Ramon in much pain?’ She kept the faintly desperate edge from her voice, and had the impression it didn’t fool him at all.

      Marcello’s gaze didn’t shift from her own as he inclined his head. ‘He has ongoing medical attention with a doctor and nurse in residence. It is his wish to remain at home.’

      Shannay knew his condition, and the odds. There was little to be done, except keep him comfortable.

      ‘I would ask that you and Nicki remain here until Ramon slips into a coma.’

      She should have seen it coming, and she cursed herself for not foreseeing just this eventuality.

      ‘I have a job,’ she reminded. ‘We have an agreement. After three weeks Nicki and I return to Perth.’

      ‘I’m sure your leave can be extended on compassionate grounds.’

      It could. If she wanted it extended.

      The truth being she didn’t trust herself to stay in Marcello’s company any longer than she had to.

      They shared a history, a potent chemistry she didn’t dare stir into vibrant life.

      He was dangerous, primitive, and intently focused.