A Spanish Inheritance

His eyes were little more than blazing arrow-slits of pent-up fury. ‘Why don’t you just sit down, calm down, and listen to me?’

‘Listen to you? I’ve listened to you for long enough!’

‘Why can’t you trust me, Annalisa?’ The question started in a shout and ended in a whisper, as if some giant fist had coiled around his guts and yanked it out of him. ‘I thought we were close—’

‘And I thought you wanted me for my own sake and not for my land.’

‘What are you talking about?’ he demanded angrily.

‘Your marriage proposal is nothing more than a cynical attempt to manipulate my feelings so that you get the land for your marina!’ She made an angry sound, as if enlightenment had truly struck this time. ‘If I sell on the open market someone else might beat you to it—my father’s widow, for instance!’ She gazed up at him accusingly. ‘You really think I’m for sale, don’t you? You think you can take advantage of me because you have all the money in the world and I have nothing! Nothing except that stupid piece of sand! What you want, Ramon, is a merger, not a marriage!’

‘You have no idea what I want,’ he said calmly. ‘You’ve made that abundantly clear.’ And then without warning he came towards her and backed her up against the door.

‘Don’t come any closer,’ she warned, knowing he could turn her anger into passion in an instant. ‘Do you really think I’ll do anything you say just because we slept together?’

‘We slept together?’ he said, spitting out each word as if it was too bitter to keep in his mouth. ‘Is that what we did?’ And when she didn’t reply he straightened up with a sharp gust of exasperation and turned away. ‘Think what the hell you like, Annalisa! I’ve got nothing left to say to you.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

BY THE time she finished in the bathroom Ramon was gone. Annalisa tiptoed across the sitting room, but the silence was absolute. The suite was empty, with not a sign of him ever having been there. And she didn’t even know the name of the lawyer he had arranged for her to see. But the lonely ache in the pit of her stomach had no connection with her inheritance, let alone lawyers.

And then she saw it. Leaning against the clock on the mantelpiece. With a sharp cry of relief she crossed the room and snatched up the small cream business card. In Ramon’s handwriting she read, Michael Delaney, Barrister at Law, Chaucer House 11.30 a.m. Wednesday 23rd. Glancing at her watch, she firmed her mouth. If she hurried she could still make the appointment.

She was shown straight into an imposing book-lined office. The rotund gentleman advancing from behind a vast and cluttered desk reminded her of a clean-shaven Father Christmas.

‘Ah, Miss Wilson. What a pleasure to meet you. Michael Delaney at your service. Won’t you take a seat?’ he invited, ushering her towards a well-worn leather chair. ‘Tea? Coffee? Something a little stronger?’ he demanded eagerly.

‘Oh, no, thank you. It’s a little early—’

‘Perhaps not when you hear what I have to tell you,’ he said, beaming over the top of his wire-rimmed spectacles.

Her tentative smile faded. Not more bad news!

‘Don’t look so worried, young lady. I hear you’re a lawyer turned agriculturist.’ He sat down across the desk from her and rubbed his hands together as if the idea delighted him.

‘Perhaps it was a little rash—’

‘Nonsense! Nonsense!’ he said, growing more expansive with each exclamation. ‘Don’t you think I’d exchange this dusty old office for a chance to get out in the fresh air—?’ He broke off, inhaling theatrically to make his point.

‘There’s a lot to be said for dusty old offices,’ Annalisa said, her eyes fixed on his framed certificates banked across one wall.

‘Courage! Courage, Miss Wilson,’ he insisted with a wave of his hand. ‘Now, then. I have it here somewhere.’

‘What…what do you have?’ Annalisa prompted anxiously.

He stopped what he was doing and cocked his head to one side. ‘Are you telling me that Señor Crianza di Perez didn’t tell you why he had arranged this visit?’

‘He didn’t tell me anything,’ Annalisa confessed, omitting to add that she hadn’t given him much of a chance.

‘Ah,’ the lawyer said, plucking at his lips with his fingertips. ‘I had imagined… No matter! No matter! Yes! Here it is!’ he exclaimed triumphantly, plunging in his hand like a conjurer to extract a slim file from the midst of the muddle.

‘What is it?’ Annalisa said curiously.