The Sanchez Tradition Page 16

  Rachel swayed disbelievingly. It was André’s voice. But it couldn’t be André, she told herself incredulously. Not here, not in London.

  She took two steps down the staircase, and then stopped again. The silhouette could be André’s, and certainly the determination was André’s.

  With trembling steps she reached the foot of the stairs, and crossed the shop to the door. She had to step round the articles of furniture which were heaped rather haphazardly to one side, but at last she was near the panels.

  ‘André?’ she murmured, in a husky voice. ‘Is that you?’

  The letterbox banged impatiently. ‘Of course it’s me,’ he said loudly. ‘Open the door!’

  Rachel’s fingers went to the bolts, and then stopped. ‘Why—why are you here?’ she asked unsteadily.

  She heard his angry ejaculation. ‘Rachel,’ he said, in a low piercing tone, ‘I am attracting a great deal of attention out here. Do you want to have me arrested for trying to break in?’

  Rachel compressed her lips, and with a sigh she withdrew the bolts and turned the key. André turned the handle, and the door swung inwards. Rachel stepped back, and watched him as he closed the door.

  He was dressed in a dark suit and overcoat, and his hair glistened with the drops of rain upon it. He quickly removed the wet overcoat and threw it over a nearby chair.

  ‘Well?’ he said harshly. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me upstairs? I didn’t fly all this way just to talk to you in a shadowed shop doorway.’

  Rachel shrugged indifferently, but she led the way upstairs without saying a word. In the living-room, illuminated by a standard lamp, she faced him. Going up the stairs she had mentally armed herself against what was to come, but she was unsure how strong she really could be. Why was he here? Was he in London on business? Did he think he could spend the night here? If so he was mistaken. He would never make a fool of her again.

  ‘Well, André,’ she said uncompromisingly, ‘this is a surprise!’

  André regarded her sombrely. ‘Is it? Didn’t you know I would come as soon as I could?’ His expression was harsh in the lamplight. ‘Haven’t I always?’

  Rachel pressed a hand to her throat. ‘I don’t know why you should,’ she said tensely.

  ‘Don’t you?’ André lifted his shoulders wearily. ‘Maybe because I always was a fool where you were concerned!’

  Rachel frowned. ‘André, you’re not making sense,’ she said uneasily.

  André looked at her intently. ‘Am I not? Why didn’t you come to Veros after you left Juanastra?’

  ‘To—Veros?’

  ‘Of course. If not for my sake then for my mother’s.’

  Rachel sank down on to a chair. Her legs felt weak. ‘Why should I go back to Veros?’ she asked unsteadily. ‘My home is here.’

  A muscle worked in André’s cheek. ‘It was the least you could do, I would have thought,’ he said roughly.

  Rachel shook her head. ‘But why? Surely your mother knew I intended to return to London. Marcus must have told her.’

  ‘He did. He said you were leaving Juanastra. That was why Irena agreed to go to be with Olivia.’

  ‘Yes?’ Rachel frowned. ‘So?’

  André studied her face. Then he shook his head. ‘You look so innocent,’ he muttered. ‘Maybe that’s why I can’t get you out of my mind!’

  Rachel’s heart fluttered. ‘André,’ she exclaimed, ‘what are you talking about?’

  André chewed his lip. ‘All right, all right,’ he said. ‘You know Irena invited you to Veros. My mother sent the message with her. She knew you wanted to leave Brazil, and at my request she invited you back to Veros.’

  ‘At your request?’ echoed Rachel faintly. ‘Oh, André, this doesn’t make sense!’ In her mind’s eye she saw again the cheque in Irena’s hand, heard Irena’s words. Pressing the palms of her hands to her ears, she said: ‘I got no message, André.’

  André stared at her disbelievingly, his brows drawn together in an angry frown. ‘Of course you got the message. Irena told you. She told my mother you wouldn’t listen to her. That you insisted on returning to England.’ He raised his eyes heavenward. ‘You were gone by this time, of course, and all hell was let loose!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rachel felt confused. ‘André, please, you’re not making sense!’

  André stared at her for a moment longer, and then he uttered an expletive. ‘All right, then,’ he muttered violently, ‘this is the only sense I know!’ and he pulled her up into his arms, finding her startled, parted lips with his mouth.

  Rachel struggled for a moment, but the warmth of his body and the passionate intensity of his mouth were too much for her and she clung to him weakly, kissing him back. His arms gathered her still closer and she felt the hardness of his body against hers as his mouth sought her throat and shoulder, pushing aside the gown and finding her warm scented flesh.

  ‘God,’ he groaned, ‘Rachel, you’ve got to let me care for you, look after you; I need you more than life itself!’ Rachel made a concerted effort and thrust him away a little so that she could look into his face. His eyes were weary, and there was a haggard expression deepening the lines by his mouth.

  ‘What did you say?’ she whispered incredulously. ‘How can you say such things? Leonie—–’

  ‘Oh, to hell with Leonie,’ he muttered, smoothing her hair between his fingers. ‘You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved and you know it.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘You don’t mean that,’ she said unsteadily. ‘You know what I’m like. Bad-tempered, shrewish, unwilling to be dominated!’

  ‘Rachel, I need you. That word constitutes everything. There will be times I know when I hate you, when I want to hurt you, but in spite of that, I love you, and I’ve never said that to any woman but you!’

  Rachel struggled out of his arms, unwilling to believe this was really happening. ‘Go—go on about Irena—and your mother,’ she said. ‘I didn’t get any message, I maintain that, but even so—it’s over a month since I came back to England.’

  André sighed, and trailed the fingers of one hand down her cheek. ‘I know,’ he muttered. ‘I think every day must have taken a year off my life.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When I found you had left for England, I flew to Rio to see Olivia. To find out if you had said anything to her. But when I arrived, Olivia was in hospital and it was Irena I saw—Irena I spoke to.’

  ‘Olivia! In hospital! Why?’

  André shook his head. ‘She lost the baby.’

  ‘Oh no!’

  ‘Yes. Maria had been naughty and Irena was scolding her. Olivia came hurrying down the stairs to stop her, but she passed out halfway down, and fell. Irena sent for the doctor, but it was too late. I believe she had been ill—–’

  ‘Yes, she had. While I was there.’ Rachel turned away. ‘Irena!’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘Poor Olivia! I wish I’d known!’

  ‘Yes, Irena seems to have caused a lot of trouble one way and another,’ said André heavily. ‘However, I understand she’s planning to take a trip. On my advice.’ He sighed. ‘That leaves us, Rachel.’

  Rachel bent her head. ‘You went away without saying a word,’ she reminded him in a choked voice. ‘And—and there was the cheque!’

  ‘What cheque?’ André caught her arm. ‘What cheque?’ he repeated.

  Rachel looked up at him, and comprehension dawned. ‘I—I’ll tell you,’ she whispered. ‘But first—tell me why you went away.’

  André pulled her to him. ‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘I went away because I knew I had to see Leonie and free myself from her before speaking to you. It wasn’t easy, placating Leonie and her parents without causing a scandal, and then immediately afterwards my mother fell ill. It was as though events were combining to keep us apart.’

  ‘Irena knew you were breaking with Leonie I suppose,’ murmured Rachel, beginning to understand fully.

  ‘Of course. We had quite a row about
it. But then, when Marcus said you were leaving Rio, I got my mother to invite you to Veros. When you didn’t come I could have killed you.’

  Rachel nodded slowly. Then she cupped his face in her hands. ‘Irena gave me a cheque, but no message,’ she said quietly. ‘She said you had said to tell me that I would know what the money was for!’

  ‘Oh God!’ André pressed her face to his shoulder. ‘And you believed her?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I? The cheque had your name on it.’

  André sighed. ‘I sign cheques all the time,’ he muttered. ‘It wouldn’t have been difficult for her to obtain one. She might even have forged my signature. It wouldn’t be difficult, having access to my things as she does. So that was why you left so abruptly….’

  Rachel sighed. ‘That was part of it,’ she agreed softly.

  ‘And the rest?’

  Rachel shook her head, and drew back again. ‘Tell me about Olivia. How is she now?’

  ‘She’s fine. A little depressed, perhaps, but Marcus took her away after it was over, and I think she’s recovering now. That was why I couldn’t come immediately to England. To begin with, I was so mad, I didn’t intend ever seeing you again.’ He half smiled. ‘And by the time I cooled down, Marcus and Olivia had left for their trip to the States, and I had the Hemming deal to complete myself.’

  ‘I see,’ Rachel nodded. ‘And now you’re free?’

  ‘In every respect except one,’ he muttered huskily. ‘Come back here, I want to make love to you.’

  Rachel did not resist. There was no point any longer, and a warm feeling of being part of a family again was stealing into her heart.

  She awoke in the early hours of the morning, and brushed her hair out of her eyes with a lazy hand. Then she became aware that André was awake and was lying regarding her tenderly.

  ‘Love me?’ he murmured huskily, drawing her into the circle of his arms.

  Rachel nodded. ‘André,’ she whispered hesitantly, ‘there—there’s something I’ve got to tell you.’

  André frowned. ‘Nothing bad, I hope,’ he said, tracing the outline of her mouth with a lazy finger.

  ‘I hope you won’t think so,’ she replied, struggling into a sitting position. ‘I’m going to have a baby!’

  André” sat up and stared at her incredulously. ‘A baby?’ he repeated softly.

  Rachel nodded.

  ‘My child.’ It was a statement.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And you weren’t going to tell me?’ he exclaimed, pain in his eyes.

  Rachel put her hands on his shoulders, smoothing his brown skin with her palms. ‘How could I?’ she asked appealingly. ‘I thought you were going to marry Leonie as soon as you were free. Had I told you about the baby then you might have thought I was asserting my rights.’

  ‘Your rights!’ groaned André, caressing her fingers with his lips. ‘Rachel, what can I say?’

  She looked anxiously at him. ‘You’re not sorry?’

  ‘Me? Sorry?’ he ejaculated, shaking his head. ‘Dear God, Rachel, what a question! But you—do you want it?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Rachel was eager. ‘Very much.’

  André’s eyes darkened. ‘Our child,’ he murmured wonderingly, drawing her down to him, his hands on her waist. ‘Rachel, I adore you.’

  ‘I’m going to look terrible in a few weeks,’ she volunteered reluctantly.

  ‘Not to me,’ he denied, rather thickly. ‘Never to me!’

  André swung the tiller and the yacht curved gracefully through the channel into the lagoon. Swiftly he dismantled the sail, and Rachel steered the craft across the lake towards the landing stage.

  As they neared the jetty, André dropped down into the stern beside his wife and regarded her flushed face with some amusement.

  ‘Well?’ he said lazily. ‘I wouldn’t exactly say you were ready for a solo voyage round Cape Horn, but you’re improving!’

  Rachel cast him a laughing glance. ‘Praise from the master is praise indeed!’ she remarked. Then she sighed. ‘Oh, André, I am enjoying this! It’s so long since we sailed together.’

  ‘Hmm!’ André gave her a speculative glance. ‘Too long. However, I intend to remedy that in the future.’

  Rachel leant forward and kissed his cheek. ‘You wouldn’t have wanted me to take any chances with our son, would you?’ she murmured.

  ‘Oh no!’ André shook his head, soberly. ‘Or with you,’ he added gently. ‘You are infinitely precious to me!’

  Rachel’s eyes were tender. ‘I don’t know why I deserve to be so happy,’ she reflected softly. ‘I haven’t had much chance to talk to you since Robert was born with your mother being around and so on, but I just want you to know that I realise what a fool I was to leave you….’

  André shook his head and drew her into the circle of his arm. ‘I should never have let you go—should never have acted as I did! I guess we all learn by our mistakes. I should have looked after you as Marcus looked after Olivia when she lost her baby, not blown my top as I did.’

  Rachel’s lips touched his neck. ‘I really didn’t set out to lose the baby,’ she said. ‘You do believe that.’

  André nodded, cupping her chin in his hand. ‘I was a brute and an arrogant fool,’ he said, tracing the line of her lips with his finger, arousing her as he was always able to do. ‘But never again. And so far as the Sanchez corporation is concerned, they can find themselves a new chairman. I’ll maintain an interest, of course—–’

  ‘Of course,’ Rachel interrupted him mischievously.

  ‘—but from now on my own family takes precedence.’

  The yacht nudged gently against the jetty walls, and André vaulted out to secure the painter. Then he helped Rachel to join him, and they started to walk up towards the house. As they did so, Olivia came out of the house carrying Rachel’s baby. At four weeks, Robert André Sanchez was small, and dark and adorable.

  Rachel shook her head as they reached Olivia, and said: ‘Oh, Olivia, has he been a nuisance?’

  Olivia shook her head smilingly. ‘Of course not. I’ve just been giving him his bottle, that’s all, and I couldn’t resist holding him for a while. Four months is such a long time to wait!’

  Olivia expected another baby in four months, and this time there had been no complications.

  Now they all entered the house where Marcus was busily mixing drinks. Rachel looked about her with pleasure. It was still hard to realise that she had been given a second chance, even though she knew that the love she and André shared had been strengthened by their separation. She was so lucky, so very lucky.

  ‘Olivia tells me you’ve let a young couple have the shop, Rachel,’ Marcus was saying now.

  Rachel nodded. ‘That’s right. The girl, Hannah, was a great help to me when I went back to England. Her parents have the shop next door.’

  ‘I see.’ Marcus nodded. ‘And do they know a lot about the business?’

  ‘Very little,’ replied André, accepting his drink. ‘But they’ll learn. John is a very intelligent young man. I liked him.’

  ‘They’re coming over after Christmas to spend a couple of weeks with us,’ inserted Rachel. ‘They hadn’t a chance to take a honeymoon, so they’re spending it here.’

  Olivia smiled. ‘I’m sure they’ll love it.’ She looked at her husband. ‘Marcus, why can’t we have a home of our own like this?’

  Later, as Rachel and André were changing for dinner, Rachel said: ‘Tell me honestly, André, why did you come to Brazil when I was staying with Olivia and Marcus?’ She turned so that he could zip up her dress, and as he did so, his hands slid down her back to her waist, tightening possessively.

  ‘You know why,’ he muttered huskily. ‘I had to be sure you meant what you said that night at Veros.’

  ‘You were so horrible to me that night,’ she murmured, drawing his arms round her and leaning back against him.

  ‘Yes, I was wasn’t I?’ he mouthed against her neck. ‘I’ve
told you—I hated you for what you were doing to me!’

  ‘And now?’ she asked, with some satisfaction.

  ‘And now I’ve got to finish getting dressed,’ he replied, rather huskily, ‘or would you rather we missed dinner altogether…?’

  ISBN: 978-1-472-09731-6

  THE SANCHEZ TRADITION

  © 1971 Anne Mather

  Published in Great Britain 2014

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited

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