A Spanish Inheritance

‘I think we’d better go,’ he said, breaking the spell. He settled his coffee cup into the saucer. ‘There’s something I’d like you to see.’

Annalisa started guiltily, as if she had been caught out in some dreadful act. But there was only purpose in his face, and that purpose was wildly at odds with her erotic fantasies.

‘That is if you can spare another hour before I take you home?’

‘I can spare the time.’

‘Good,’ he said looking at her keenly. ‘I should be the one—’ He broke off as he stood aside to let her go past, and showed no inclination to explain himself further.

They got into the car and Ramon drove skilfully around the congested side streets until soon they were speeding along the main highway again. But he was taking her in the wrong direction for home. They were heading instead towards the north of the island, where the terrain became more rugged and the vegetation grew dense and lush.

Annalisa was on the verge of asking him where he was taking her, but something about the set of his jaw discouraged conversation. Along with his customary courtesy towards her she sensed a strange intensity; a determination to have her under his control for a little while longer.

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE time Ramon pulled the Porsche to a halt the sky was a tapestry of rose-streaked viridian. In the dim half-light the trees at the side of the road cast smoky fingers across the dust-coated tarmac.

‘This is as far as we can go by car,’ he said, climbing out.

As he held the door for her Annalisa saw they had stopped beside a sandy track that snaked away into a shadowy wood.

‘Are we close to the sea?’

‘This path leads to the beach,’ he confirmed, toeing off his loafers.

Annalisa was still wearing her high-heeled sandals from the night before, and following Ramon’s lead she slipped them off. ‘So. Where are you taking me?’

‘You’ll see,’ he promised, turning as if to take her hand.

Not trusting herself, Annalisa tucked hers into her pockets.

Unperturbed, Ramon headed off in front of her. ‘This is a rather unconventional expedition,’ he admitted, calling back to her over his shoulder. ‘But something tells me you’re not ready to make a formal visit just yet.’

‘A visit?’ Annalisa queried, hurrying to catch up with him. ‘A visit to whom?’

‘You’ll see.’

Finally the path opened out onto a small crescent-shaped beach. Where the forest yielded to sand a natural boundary had been created by a string of smooth boulders. Like beads in a giant’s necklace, Annalisa thought as she followed Ramon across them.

‘There,’ he said, pointing away from the shoreline into the hills.

Following his gaze, Annalisa saw a large house that might have looked more at home in the Hollywood hills than on the brow of a hill in rural Menorca. It wasn’t that the building lacked anything as far as she could see—far from it. But to Annalisa’s eyes the stark lines of the modern construction with its austere regimented garden sat uncomfortably amidst the craggy limestone outcrops and luxuriant tumble of vegetation. ‘This has to belong to a total control freak,’ she murmured.

‘Very observant of you,’ Ramon commented, sounding pleased.

‘You weren’t meant to overhear,’ she admitted. ‘Who does it belong to?’

‘It used to belong to your late father—’

‘My father!’ Why the idea should offend her to such a degree she had no idea. But it felt wrong, impossible—

‘Are you going to allow me to explain?’ Ramon demanded.

She swung around to see him settled back against a gnarled tree trunk with his arms folded as he stood watching her, shadows pointing up the extraordinary seductiveness of his sun-bronzed face. Was everything she had to learn about her father going to come from Ramon? She was caught between a desperate longing to know more and a fear of becoming emotionally entangled with a man who posed a very real danger to her…and whose motives were unclear.

But then they were distracted by the sight of a glamorous middle-aged woman strolling onto the terrace. Dressed for cocktails in a close-fitting red dress, she moved with great elegance, and her silver-blonde hair, swept into a chignon, was immaculate. ‘Who’s that?’ Annalisa murmured.

Ramon came to stand beside her. ‘That is Señora Fuego Montoya. Your father’s widow.’

Annalisa froze. Everything she had learned about her father since arriving on the island had been chipping away at her contempt for him. But with this change of heart came strong passions…passions that had lain dormant until this moment. Her focus sharpened as she speared a glance at her stepmother and tried not to hate her. It was impossible to see clearly, but Annalisa guessed her shoes would match the dress exactly, as would her lipstick. Something about Señora Fuego Montoya suggested no fashion detail would be too small to escape her notice.