A Spanish Inheritance

Swarming all over her roof, workmen were ripping up the few remaining tiles. They showed no sign of hearing her. Ladders leaned drunkenly against the uneven walls and puffs of old plaster and debris were falling all around like dirty snow. After standing there for just a few moments she felt her lustrous black hair was coated with an itchy grey crust.

Finally one of the men responded to her furious gestures and called down, ‘Señor Perez’s orders—’

Annalisa’s emotions went up like a rocket. ‘Señor Perez has no control here! How dare—?’

The man shrugged as he gave her a brown-toothed grin. ‘You want we should leave it?’

‘Yes! No!’ Annalisa gazed around in desperation. Neatly stacked piles of brand-new roof tiles stood in one corner, whilst heaps of old tiles, now broken beyond hope of saving, littered the ground.

‘Where is Señor Perez?’ she demanded. ‘No—’ She flung up her hand to stop the man the moment she heard the words Inglaterra and Margarita. ‘In England, at the race with Margarita,’ she muttered fiercely, swinging around to consider what to do next.

‘No, no, señorita,’ another voice called from somewhere on the ruined roof. ‘Señor Perez returned home today.’

‘Right!’ Annalisa said, tightening her mouth. ‘Thank you very much,’ she shouted. Swinging away from them, she ran back to the car.

‘That’s all right, Rodriguez. You can leave us,’ Ramon Perez instructed his tight-lipped manservant. ‘And, gentlemen,’ he added, turning to the group of sober-suited men seated at the table with him, ‘we will reconvene this meeting in one hour’s time.’

One hour? Annalisa’s brows lifted. He had been away for weeks, missed their meetings, played house with her home, and seriously expected to be rid of her within the hour?

‘Annalisa,’ Ramon said when they had all left the room. ‘What an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?’ As he spoke he eased his chair back and stood to confront her, his hawkish expression completely at odds with the courteous words.

Somehow the austere business suit only served to affirm his brutally male appeal, Annalisa realised, finding the effect on her resolve an added irritation. ‘Don’t try that power jag on me,’ she warned. ‘You’ve already done far too much for me already!’

‘Really?’ he murmured, turning to glance out of the window, but not before she caught the gleam of amusement in his dark eyes. ‘How careless of me.’

‘This isn’t a joke, Ramon.’

‘I can see that,’ he said, turning so abruptly she jumped.

‘No!’ she warned, taking a step back when it looked as though he might come closer. ‘I demand an explanation.’

‘You demand?’ he drawled, while his mouth curved in a long lazy smile.

‘Yes, I—’

He held up his hands in an unexpected gesture of surrender. ‘You have my apologies,’ he said mildly, then spoiled the effect with his next observation. ‘I should have realised how frustrating this must be for you.’

Frustrating! And now he was heading straight for her… ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ Annalisa flared, retreating a step only to find the door at her back.

He stopped short and shrugged. ‘The waiting, of course.’ And now his eyes were glinting with amusement. ‘All these problems getting in the way,’ he murmured, brushing a hand down the side of her face.

She jerked back. ‘In the way of what, exactly?’

‘Of an agreement being drawn up between us,’ he clarified, moving away again.

Annalisa swallowed hard as she watched his lean, tanned fingers move to adjust his tie. It was so easy to fall under his spell…far too easy. Determinedly she rallied her wits. ‘Really, Ramon. I must insist—’

‘You must insist?’ He looked at her with amused tolerance, as if she had lost her wits rather than rallied them. And then, advancing far enough to trap her against the door, he traced her full lips with one firm thumbpad.

As hard as she strained back there was nowhere to go. ‘My roof—’ she protested breathlessly, moving to protect her mouth with the back of her hand.

‘Ah, yes,’ he murmured, his amused glance straying to her hand. ‘Your roof.’

The heat in her face went rampaging through her body. ‘You’re repairing it,’ she gasped out.

With a sharp look he turned on his heels. ‘Before it falls down.’

‘It’s not yours to repair!’ Annalisa pointed out.

‘Call it neighbourly concern, if it makes you feel better.’