His Forbidden Passion Page 15
‘Initially.’ Serena hesitated. ‘Initially, I’d have said that. Did say it, actually. But things have changed.’
‘No, they haven’t.’
The last thing Cleo wanted was for Serena to try and persuade her to stay. She’d told herself she was prepared for Jacob’s disappointment. Anything else would be too much for her to handle.
And after last night, there was no way she could remain at Magnolia Hill. Not after what had happened. She wasn’t her mother. She’d never be satisfied with second-best. And it had been evident from Dominic’s attitude that all he wanted was an affair.
She hadn’t slept for what was left of the night and, in consequence, she wasn’t thinking all that clearly. But one thing seemed perfectly obvious: she had to leave here before she lost all her self-respect.
Last night it had taken quite a hammering. Particularly during that ominously silent drive back to Magnolia Hill. Dominic hadn’t spoken, except to advise her to fasten her seat belt, and when he’d dropped her at the house only courtesy had prevented him from driving away before she was safely inside.
As luck would have it, the rear door was still unlocked, and she’d merely lifted a hand in farewell before scuttling through it. She’d heard the SUV’s wheels squeal as he’d executed a three-point turn, and prayed no one else had been awake to hear it, too.
And she’d known then how vulnerable she was. She’d wanted to appease him, she admitted painfully. And she would give in if she stayed here. It was only a matter of time before he wore her down.
Which mustn’t happen.
‘Does this have anything to do with Lily?’ asked Serena now, and Cleo wondered if she dared use Dominic’s mother as an excuse.
But, no. In actual fact, Lily had become the least of her worries. She doubted the other woman would ever like her, but she thought she had gained a bit of respect in her eyes.
Which would soon vanish if she ever found out about her and Dominic, Cleo conceded bitterly. Lily was prepared to accept that her coming here was not her doing, but her attitude would soon change if she thought Cleo wasn’t going back.
‘I just want to go home,’ Cleo said simply, and Serena shook her head.
‘You know my father considers that this is your home, don’t you?’ she protested. She paused. ‘Nobody knows how much time he has left. Couldn’t you put your own life on hold for a few more weeks?’
Cleo sighed. ‘You know I only got leave of absence for two weeks.’
‘But I’m sure, in the circumstances—’
‘No.’ Cleo hated having to refuse her, to refuse Jacob, but what could she do?
‘I have to go back,’ she insisted. ‘You know people don’t accept me here.’
‘They’re beginning to.’ Serena was persuasive. ‘You have to give people time to get to know you, Cleo. No one knew of your existence until a few weeks ago.’
‘Do you think I’ve forgotten?’
There was a trace of pain in Cleo’s voice now. She’d been sure it wouldn’t matter to her, but it did.
And Serena did something Cleo never would have expected. She stepped towards her and enfolded her in her arms.
‘You have to put the past behind you, my dear,’ she said gently. ‘Believe me, we all feel regret for things that we did, things we didn’t do. I more than most.’
Cleo had submitted to the embrace, but now she drew back to look at this woman who was, amazingly, her aunt.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh…’ Serena pulled a wry face. ‘Hasn’t my father told you about Michael Cordy?’
A trace of colour entered Cleo’s cheeks at her words and Serena nodded her head resignedly.
‘I see he has,’ she said. ‘Did he tell you Michael asked me to marry him? Not once, but several times?’ She grimaced. ‘And, like a fool, I turned him down. I had the mistaken idea that my father needed me here.’
‘I’m sure he did, Serena.’ Cleo had never imagined she’d be comforting her aunt. ‘When your mother died, he must have been desolate.’
‘I suppose he was.’ Serena tipped her head from side to side in a gesture that spoke of her uncertainty. ‘But I was never woman enough for him. He could always walk all over me. He still does, if I let him.’
‘Oh, Serena!’ Cleo felt such sympathy for her. ‘He loves you. You know he does. Perhaps his illness…’
‘Do you honestly think his being ill has made a scrap of difference to the way he thinks of me; the way he thinks of all of us?’ Serena was scornful. ‘You know, perhaps I shouldn’t be trying to persuade you to stay here. Heaven knows, if you did, your life would never be your own.’
Cleo sighed, releasing herself with some reluctance from Serena’s arms. Then she put a little space between them.
‘I have to go,’ she said, hoping the other woman wouldn’t ask for any more reasons. ‘Will you—do what you can to arrange it?’
‘And risk my father’s wrath?’
‘I am going to tell him what I plan to do,’ said Cleo firmly. ‘I wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye.’
‘Well, good luck with that.’ Serena pulled a wry face. ‘Though I guess this proves that you’re really his granddaughter.’ She shook her head. ‘Apart from Dominic, we all give in to him, one way or the other.’
She paused. ‘But I’ll speak to Rick Moreno. He’s the pilot who brought you here. He flies into Nassau most days on company business or to pick up supplies. I might be able to arrange with him to take you with him.’
Cleo bit her lip. ‘When?’
‘When?’ Serena frowned. ‘Oh—in a day or two.’
‘Tomorrow?’
Serena blew out a breath. ‘Cleo—’
‘Please.’
Serena shook her head. ‘I’ll do what I can, but I’m not promising anything. Your grandfather may have something to say about that.’
‘Thanks.’ Impulsively, Cleo stepped towards her again and kissed Serena’s cheek. ‘I appreciate it.’
Serena shook her head. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do this.’ She sniffed. ‘Just as we’re getting to know one another.’
Cleo managed a rueful smile. But when she got outside the room again, and the door was securely closed behind her, she felt the hot tears rolling down her cheeks.
Dominic was sitting at his desk, staring broodingly into space, when his cellphone rang.
Flicking it open, he blinked when he saw who was calling him. The old man always used the office number when he wanted to get in touch with his grandson there and the very fact that he hadn’t put this call on an entirely different footing.
‘Grandpa!’ Forcing a neutral tone, Dominic hoped he sounded less edgy than he felt. ‘This is a surprise.’
The old man didn’t say anything and Dominic’s nerves tightened even more. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’
‘Like you don’t know.’
The anger in the older man’s voice was almost palpable and Dominic wearily closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘I assume this is about Cleo.’
‘You’re sharp, I’ll give you that.’ But Jacob was sarcastic. ‘You couldn’t keep your hands off her, could you? After the way you swore to me that you had no intention of ruining her life as your father ruined her mother’s.’
‘I haven’t.’
But the old man wasn’t listening to him. ‘Just tell me: did you sleep with her?’
Dominic heaved a sigh. ‘Cleo?’
‘Don’t mess with me, boy. You know who I mean.’
‘OK.’ Dominic spoke flatly. ‘Yes, I slept with her.’
‘Damn you!’
‘It’s not what you think, old man.’
‘No?’ Jacob snorted. ‘You’re going to tell me next that you asked her to marry you. Oh, no, you couldn’t do that because marriage isn’t on your agenda.’
‘Grandpa—’
‘You make me sick, do you know that?’
Dominic groaned. ‘If
you’d let me speak—’
‘And say what?’
‘That I love her, dammit!’ exclaimed Dominic harshly. ‘You don’t take any prisoners, do you?’
The silence that followed this pronouncement was ominous.
Dominic had expected the old man to say something, even if it was only to call him a liar. But Jacob said nothing, and that was more disturbing than his anger had been.
Unable to sit still while he waited for his grandfather to speak, Dominic pushed himself up from his chair and walked a little jerkily over to the window.
The three-storey block of offices that housed the Montoya Corporation overlooked the bay. A couple of hundred feet above the marina, up a narrow, winding street, it had an unparallelled view of the town and the harbour beyond.
But Dominic was blind to the beauty of his surroundings. Finally, he said, ‘Well? Don’t you have anything to say?’
‘It’s too late.’
Jacob’s words struck his grandson like a sword to his ribs. ‘What do you mean—it’s too late?’ he snarled. ‘I’ve told you, I love her. I do. I’m going to see her today, to tell her—’
‘Well, you should have thought of that sooner.’ Jacob was contemptuous. ‘But I guess this is all new for you. You don’t usually offer marriage to the women you sleep with.’
Dominic bit his tongue on a savage retort. ‘This is different,’ he muttered. ‘I needed time to think.’
‘I bet you did.’ Jacob snorted. ‘Anyway, forget it. It’s too late now. She’s gone!’
‘Cleo?’ Dominic felt a sudden chill in the pit of his stomach. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I should have thought it was fairly obvious,’ said his grandfather coldly. ‘She left on this morning’s flight.’
‘You’re kidding!’
‘Would I kid about something like that? She’s gone, I tell you. She wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. I tried to persuade her to stay on until the end of the two weeks’ absence she’d been granted. But it was no use.’
‘Jesus!’
‘Yes, you might consider calling on Him for forgiveness, boy, because I sure as hell am going to find it hard to forgive you myself.’
Dominic’s fist connected with the frame of the window. ‘I’ll go after her.’
‘You won’t.’ Jacob was very definite about that. ‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? She told me she never wants to see you again, and I believe her. If you want to do something useful, I suggest you clear up your own mess. Or is splitting up with Sarah Cordy not so urgent now that the girl you seduced has left the island?’
Dominic sucked in a breath. ‘That’s a foul accusation to make. Even from you.’
‘Yes.’ The old man sounded very weary suddenly. ‘Yes, it was. And maybe not totally justified. You’re a young man. Why shouldn’t you sow a few wild oats? I know I did. But you knew how I felt about Cleo. Couldn’t you have slaked your lust with someone else?’
‘It wasn’t lust,’ said Dominic doggedly.
‘Whatever.’ His grandfather’s lips turned down. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’
‘It does matter.’ Dominic raked frustrated hands through his hair. ‘I’ll go after her. I’ll bring her back. If I tell her how you feel—’
‘Do you think, I didn’t tell her that?’ Jacob was impatient now. ‘For goodness’ sake, Dominic, I did everything I could to persuade her to stay. But she was determined to leave, and I realise now we have to let her do this. At least for a little while. She’s promised me she’ll come back if I need her. And I don’t want you—especially you—or any of us doing anything to muddy the waters. Do you hear?’
Cleo was standing in the queue at the British Airways checkin desk when someone said her name.
‘Cleo?’ the woman said, her voice horribly familiar. ‘Cleo, are you leaving?’
Cleo hesitated only a moment before turning to face Sarah Cordy.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said reluctantly. She really didn’t want to talk to Dominic’s girlfriend at the moment. But politeness necessitated an answer, and with a slight smile she added. ‘Yes, I have to get back to London.’
‘Really?’ Sarah’s blue eyes widened. ‘This is rather sudden, isn’t it? I understood from Dom that you were staying for two weeks.’
‘Change of plan,’ said Cleo shortly, grateful when the desk clerk chose that moment to ask for her passport. Handing it over, she said, ‘Are you going to London, too?’
Hopefully not with Dominic, she appended silently. That would really be too much for her to bear.
‘Oh…’
Sarah looked taken aback for a moment. And then, as if a thought had occurred to her, a look of calculation crossed her face.
‘Well, no,’ she said a little smugly. ‘I’m here to meet an associate of Dominic’s actually. He asked me to stand in for him. I think he’s grooming me for—well, you know.’
Cleo did know. Sarah meant when they were married. She wondered if a heart could split in two.
‘Anyway, I think that’s the flight that’s just landed,’ Sarah continued. ‘I’d better get going. Enjoy your trip.’
Cleo nodded, but Sarah’s departure was hardly a relief.
But then, as she was handed her boarding card, another thought entered her head. If Sarah was here to meet an associate of Dominic’s, surely she was in the wrong area of the airport altogether.
She shrugged, and dismissed the thought. What did she know about airports, after all? She’d just be grateful when she was on the flight to London. It was two days since she’d left San Clemente and this was the first available booking she’d been able to make.
Chapter Fifteen
NORAH met Cleo on the landing outside their small apartment.
It was obvious the other girl had been waiting for her, and Cleo was instantly reminded of that other occasion when Serena Montoya had accosted her at the supermarket.
It was three months since she’d returned to London. Three months and spring had lifted its head at last. There were daffodils in the park and ducks on the pond, and a definite feeling of warmth invading the air.
Not the kind of warmth she’d known when she was in San Clemente, Cleo acknowledged. But England had other attractions for her. A sense of normality for one; a return to the places she was familiar with. The sights and sounds and people she loved.
Of course, she loved her grandfather, too. That realisation had come to her in the darkness of her bedroom and given her some sleepless nights. She worried about him constantly; wished there was some way she could make up to him for the way she’d left the island.
But going to live on San Clemente wasn’t an option. She would go and see her grandfather if he needed her, but there was no way she could stay there and constantly come into contact with the man she loved.
Oh, yes. The sudden awareness that she’d felt that night at his house hadn’t changed. She loved Dominic. But she would not allow history to repeat itself.
At least she wasn’t pregnant.
She’d had a few scary moments, but her period had arrived only two days late that first month home. When she was feeling really low, she conceded it was a mixed blessing. Despite the fact that she told herself she never wanted to see Dominic again, the idea of having his child had been something else.
Was that how her mother had felt? she wondered. Was that why she’d gone ahead and had her child in spite of the obvious difficulties it involved? Had she loved her baby? Cleo felt fairly sure she must have. Which was another reason why she must never forget the past.
Now, as Norah bustled towards the stairhead, she looked at her friend with slightly apprehensive eyes.
‘What’s wrong?’ Cleo asked, her stomach plunging alarmingly. ‘Oh, God, it’s not my grandfather, is it?’
Norah gave a helpless shrug. ‘I don’t know why she’s here,’ she said. ‘She wouldn’t tell me.’
‘She? She?’ Cleo’s mouth was dry. ‘You mean—Serena? Ms
Montoya? Is she here?’
Norah shook her head. ‘It’s not the woman who came before. But I think she did say her name was Montoya.’ She spread her hands. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to warn you. After the last time…’
Cleo closed her eyes for a moment as they crossed the landing. The urge to turn round and go out again was tempting, but she couldn’t leave Norah alone. The trouble was, there were only two other Montoyas it could be: either Dominic had married Sarah, as she’d evidently wanted, or it was Lily. And Cleo was fairly sure it wouldn’t be his mother.
But it was.
Amazingly, Lily was seated on their shabby sofa. Despite the warmth of the apartment, she still had her cashmere overcoat clutched about her throat. Perhaps she felt the cold, thought Cleo, trying to distract herself. She couldn’t think of a single reason why the woman should be here.
Norah made a beeline for her bedroom. ‘I’ve made some tea,’ she said in passing, indicating the pot standing on the divider. ‘If you need anything else, Cleo…’
‘Thanks.’ Cleo exchanged a look with her friend and then became aware that Lily had risen to her feet as soon as Norah left the room. ‘Um—hello, Mrs Montoya. This is a—surprise.’
‘A shock, I think.’ For once Lily seemed almost approachable. Her smile—a smile Cleo had so rarely seen—came and went in quick succession.
Then, as if she were the hostess, she said, ‘Won’t you sit down, Cleo? I need to talk to you.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been so worried.’
Although Lily sank onto the sofa once more, Cleo didn’t move.
‘Grandfather,’ she said, scarcely aware that she’d used the familiar form of address. ‘I mean—has something happened? Is he worse?’ Her voice broke. ‘He hasn’t—he hasn’t—’
‘Jacob’s fine,’ Lily assured her quickly. ‘Well, as fine as can be expected, anyway. Isn’t that what they always say?’ She made an impatient gesture and then, evidently getting tired of looking up at her, she patted the seat beside her. ‘Please, sit down, Cleo. You’re making me nervous,’
You’re making me nervous, thought Cleo, but she obediently loosened her jacket and subsided onto the sofa beside her.