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He remained on the walk. “You couldn’t count on being safe.”

“Maybe not, but you were willing to ride your bike to trap René Charles, so you’ve no room to criticize me.”

“I’ll take all the room I need. Was today just a daredevil payback?”

“Not at all.” She caught a breath, relieved no lurking paparazzi were in sight. “Would you please open the door? Or I’ll wave to the guard to let me in.”

He yanked open the door. “I’ll be busy tomorrow with the burial at sea. I’ll pick you up Sunday afternoon, and we’ll do something fun for a change.”

Coming from him, fun sounded like an obscenity, but she smiled as though it had been a pleasant invitation. “I’ll look forward to it.” She stepped through the door and waited to watch him drive away. If he were in as black a mood on Sunday, she’d stay home and read.

Henry nodded as she passed the desk. “He’s going to regret leaving you before he gets home.”

“I hope you’re right.” Fatima was waiting for her, and Ana gave her a quick rundown. “Alejandro has had enough of me for the day, but I’ll see him on Sunday. Would you please make me a cup of tea?”

“In a minute, but first there’s something you need to explain. I never deliberately eavesdrop on your conversations, but didn’t I hear a mention of a baby?”

Her longtime housekeeper looked perplexed at best, and she deserved the truth. “Yes, you did. It’s taken me a while to get used to the idea. I haven’t even told my mother.”

“Why not? She lives in France. Nothing shocks anyone there.”

“I don’t know if that’s true, but she’ll be surprised. I’d rather rest a while than worry about telling anyone else about the baby today.”

“I understand, but it’ll be very difficult to raise a child on your own.”

Ann leaned her crutches against a dining room chair. “I grew up with a widowed mother, so I know that only too well. You needn’t worry, Alejandro intends to be a good father and provide for our child.”

The housekeeper rested her hands on her hips. “Then you’d be smart to marry him.”

“That’s what he says. Now may I have my tea?”

“Yes, and I baked some shortbread cookies.”

“Thank you.” It took a couple of cups of tea for her to realize Alejandro had been completely justified in his anger. She’d wanted a neat conclusion to the whole Lamoreaux affair, but their meeting could have easily ended tragically. She rubbed her arms to shake off a chill and ate another delicious cookie. More than one man had shot a woman who’d left him or threatened to leave, and she shouldn’t have taken such a foolish risk with Lamoreaux when she barely knew him.

She reached for her phone, and then set it aside. Alejandro was probably still too angry with her to listen to an apology. Spending a couple of lonely nights would also improve her chances he’d be so happy to see her he’d accept any apology she cared to give.

“Fatima, is there any of your wonderful leek and potato soup in the freezer? I’m staying in tonight.”

Saturday dawned bright with a cloudless sky. Alejandro followed Carlotta and her sons onto a fifty-foot cabin cruiser used for burials at sea. She’d invited a half-dozen of her late husband’s friends, and many others who’d known or admired him followed in their own boats as the captain took them beyond the port to open water. Sailboats crossed on the horizon. It was a far more peaceful scene than Alejandro had anticipated. When the captain cut the engine, the sea lapped gently against the cruiser’s hull. Squawking sea gulls flew overhead in a disrespectful chatter.

Carnation floral wreaths in the Ortiz Line’s blue and white colors were ready for the boys to throw. Eager to get the ordeal over, Alejandro nodded to Carlotta, but she remained in her seat, tightly clutching the silver urn with her late husband’s ashes.

Alejandro crossed to her. “Here, come with me.” He circled her shoulders and led her to the rail. “Come on, boys. Let’s do this together.”

Rodrigo and Francisco joined them, faces solemn, and Alejandro wished he’d prepared something, anything to say. He had no favorite memories of the man who’d been more of a mentor than a father. He looked over his shoulder to his father’s friends. “Would any of you care to say something?”

A bald, heavy-set man came forward, and Carlotta gave him a shaky smile. “I can’t bear to tell him good-bye, Gael.”

Gael Galvez took the urn from her hands and twisted off the lid. “A man who loved the sea with such great passion will be at home beneath the waves.” He lowered the urn, and the ashes spilled in a fine line.

Alejandro watched the boys, who appeared more fascinated by the drifting ashes than sad. Only Carlotta wept. The boys threw the wreaths, and the flowers floated upon the sea in silent tribute. He waited until Carlotta looked up at him to signal the captain. The cruiser made a wide arc and returned to the dock.

Carlotta wiped her eyes on her handkerchief. “I know you’ve never liked me, but thank you for handling today. There are so many others who’ll miss your father. I’ve invited them to a small reception at home. I really don’t care if Orlando would object or not.”

Alejandro took her arm to help her step onto the dock. “He won’t know, so how can he care?”

She found a shaky smile. “Please come.”

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