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Joaquin tilted back his arrogant dark head to study her as she made her breathless return, clutching a small travel bag. She could feel her face burning as he appraised the snug fit of fine wool over her breasts and the slim length of leg now on view. Suddenly wishing that the floor would open and swallow her, Lucy turned away. Talk about being obvious! Rushing to put on a more flattering outfit had to have given him a very clear message as to her susceptibility, but to her relief he made no comment as she locked up the apartment.
Out on the street, a limousine awaited them. Lucy settled back into the rich leather upholstery, striving to act as if she travelled in similar style every day.
‘You’re lucky that I didn’t involve the police in this,’ Joaquin delivered without warning, throwing her a grim glance that made her back into the furthest corner of the seat. ‘My sister is a very rich young woman. Had you not accompanied her back to London, I would have been afraid that she had been kidnapped when she failed to show up at school. But, though I have little faith in your moral principles, I did not believe that you would put Yolanda at risk.’
‘For the last time,’ Lucy groaned ruefully, ‘I didn’t realise she was only sixteen!’
‘Isn’t it strange, though, that in spite of that age-gap the two of you seem to be very much on the same wavelength?’ Joaquin drawled in a sardonic aside.
Lucy decided to ignore that crack. ‘Is Yolanda’s mother over here with you?’
Joaquin vented a cynical laugh. ‘No, Beatriz isn’t in London. She has no interest in what her teenage daughter does.’
Lucy frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Beatriz was my father’s second wife and very much younger.’ Joaquin murmured drily. ‘When he died, he made my sister an heiress, but his will decreed that Beatriz would lose much of her income if she remarried.’
‘Which she did?’
‘Beatriz and her new husband then had the responsibility of handling my sister’s trust fund. However, gross financial irregularities persuaded the trustees to make other arrangements when Yolanda was nine years old,’ Joaquin explained with sardonic cool. ‘When Beatriz was no longer in a position to rob her daughter blind, she chose to send her off to an English boarding school and more or less forget about her.’
Lucy was shaken by that unemotional rendering of unpleasant facts. ‘I’d already gathered that she and her mother weren’t close, but—’
‘Beatriz resented having a daughter so much richer than she was herself.’ Joaquin made no attempt to conceal his derision. ‘Yet her present husband owns a very large and successful construction company and they are by no means poor.’
‘Did you have much contact with Yolanda while she was growing up?’
‘Not enough to establish the relationship which her mother was determined to discourage. But when my sister’s school suspended her as a punishment—’
Lucy winced. ‘What did she do?’
‘She sneaked out to a nightclub and got her face splashed all over the tabloids. Where do you think the It Girl fantasy came from?’ Joaquin enquired drily. ‘Beatriz said she could no longer cope with her and sent her to me. When the suspension was up, Yolanda then refused to return to school.’
‘So that’s what the arguments were about,’ Lucy sighed. ‘I got hold of entirely the wrong end of the stick.’
The chauffeur opened the door beside her. Lucy blinked in disconcertion and scrambled out. She had been so involved in her conversation with Joaquin that she hadn’t even noticed that the car had drawn to a halt outside an imposing Georgian house in a quiet residential square.
The spacious hall was beautifully furnished and very elegant. A manservant spread open the door of an equally impressive drawing room.
‘Where’s the phone Yolanda gave you?’
Lucy dug the cerise pink phone out of her bag and extended it.
Joaquin removed it from her hold. ‘It’s not even switched on!’ he shot at her incredulously.
Lucy reddened. ‘I haven’t read all the instructions yet, but I did charge it—’
Joaquin flicked through the buttons and then set the phone down on the coffee table. ‘You haven’t missed any calls.’
She took a seat in an armchair. She studied the beautiful wool rug fixedly, felt her stupid eyes sting with tears. How pathetic she had been, rushing to borrow her sister’s clothes like an over-excited teenager invited out on a hot date! It was so obvious that there was just nothing there for him any more. But then weren’t a lot of men supposed to be like that? She was no mystery now. She was not outstandingly beautiful either. Why, she hadn’t even bothered making use of the cosmetics which Cindy had painstakingly taught her to apply! That passionate night at Hacienda De Oro had been a mistake as far as Joaquin was concerned. And now, more than two weeks on? The way he was behaving, she might as well have dreamt up the entire encounter.
‘You realise that you can’t tell Yolanda I’m here when she rings,’ Joaquin spelt out.
Lucy nodded.
‘That you have to find out where she’s staying and arrange either to go over there or to meet up somewhere? I don’t want her vanishing again,’ Joaquin completed.
Lucy nodded a second time.
Where were her wits? What was going on inside her head? This was the guy who had suggested he might call in for the occasional night of recreational sex when he was in London. Suggestions didn’t come much more offensive. In fact, if he was to lay a single finger on her she would scream and tell him exactly where to get off! Only it didn’t look as if she was about to get the opportunity to demonstrate her aversion to him.
The manservant reappeared with a tray of coffee. Joaquin moved his hand in a negative motion signifying disinterest. Lucy poured a cup for herself while he paced the floor
in preoccupied silence.
‘Infierno!’ Joaquin bit out, half under his breath. ‘What the hell am I supposed to say to Yolanda when I do get hold of her?’
That driven demand touched Lucy’s heart and chipped away at the barriers she was striving to raise for her own protection. She watched him spread his hands and drop them again in an expressive gesture of frustration. In his dark navy pinstriped business suit he looked so cool and elegant and distant, but his crystalline green eyes betrayed the depth of his anxiety.
‘I think your sister needs to know that you love and care about her—’
‘She must know that!’
‘I’m not sure she does,’ Lucy sighed. ‘And try not to be confrontational. If she doesn’t want to go back to school, there have to be other options that could at least be discussed.’
Joaquin elevated a derisive ebony brow. ‘You want me to sit down with a big smile and tell her she can be a wild child if she wants to be?’
At that crack, Lucy abandoned her coffee and stood up. ‘No, just let her know that you’re willing to listen. A lot of what Yolanda says is just talk. She hasn’t even gone to any nightclubs.’
Joaquin raised both hands in an impatient motion of dismissal, his darkly handsome features hard with resolve. ‘I know what is best for my sister—’
‘You’ve already admitted that you don’t know her very well, so how can you know?’ Lucy asked him ruefully.
He tensed and lost colour beneath his bronzed complexion, but he didn’t lower his arrogant dark head one inch and his brilliant eyes reflected ice-cool scorn for that reminder.
‘OK…you asked, and now you’re putting me down for answering, but that attitude won’t work with Yolanda. She’s as stubborn and hot-tempered as you are!’ Cut to the bone by that silent derision, Lucy turned away.
His lean hands came down on her rigid shoulders and slowly turned her back. She focused on his smooth gold silk tie. Long fingers curved under her chin to make her look up. ‘I’m sorry, querida. I’ve never been very good at taking instruction.’
