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By the time he was striding through the house he’d heard from Miguel Sanchez, his steward, that Señorita Lachaille had not wanted to be shown around the estancia. That in fact no one had seen her emerge from the house for two days. From Maria he learned that Lulu wasn’t sick, but that she appeared to prefer to eat her meals in her room.
His housekeeper didn’t seem to think this was a problem—which was unusual, as Maria complained about most things.
He took the stairs by threes, then stood at Lulu’s door.
His door.
The guest room door.
Memories swamped him. Of sitting slumped at another door, listening to his mother crying on the other side. Of his mother sending for him to relay her complaints about the food, about the way she was being treated.
His hand hovered over the door. He wanted to thump on it, but if Lulu was exhibiting behaviour that pushed his buttons he knew he didn’t have all the facts.
He knocked softly. ‘Lulu?’
Nothing.
He knocked more heavily. Again nothing. He pushed it open and stepped inside.
Ten minutes later it was apparent that she wasn’t in the house.
‘Check the outbuildings,’ he told the men he’d gathered in the courtyard.
He eyed the lake and told himself he was being overly dramatic.
He was crossing towards it when he saw the light in the high gable of the brick stables. Nobody was supposed to be in there. Chariot was in there. He’d given orders.
Lulu?
His chest was tight with adrenalin as he slipped through the half-open door, his tread light on the gravel. If it wasn’t Lulu, then someone was in there illegally. There was several million euros’ worth of horseflesh alone in these stalls.
It was dark and quiet, but around the corner a light shone over Chariot’s stall.
He heard the light murmur of her voice. He’d have known it anywhere, even if she hadn’t had that French accent, sexy and flowery with all those soft Vs.
As Alejandro drew closer he realised she was talking to someone. He stopped.
‘You have to stay there. If you come any closer I don’t know what I’ll do.’
Every muscle in his body tensed. Was someone threatening her?
‘Bien, be a good horsey and let me pass. If you don’t I know what happens from experience—and it’s not good. You really don’t want be around me when I lose it. And I mean lose it. No one wants to be around that.’
He stepped around the corner and looked over the stable door. Chariot was standing quietly, rocking a little from side to side, and Lulu was pressed up against the far wall, eyes huge, face white. There were traces of blood on her blouse and scratches on the fine skin just below her collarbone, which worried him, and she was cradling something to her breast.
‘Lulu?’
She looked up and relief swept over her face, but she kept herself plastered against the stable wall.
‘It’s all right, hermosa,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘Just stay where you are. I’m coming in to get you.’
‘That would be good…’ she choked.
Chariot lifted his head at Alejandro’s familiar scent. ‘Hello, boy…nice and easy. I’m just taking the lady with me. You’ve got that lovely harem and this one is mine.’
The moment he was between her and Chariot, Lulu sidled behind him and he backed her out of the stall, keeping his eye on the stallion.
Anyone else and he would have had no sympathy.
