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Her mouth firmed.
Nothing.
* * *
As he was driven through the sweeping Argentinian landscape, Lucas felt the pounding of his heart. It was pounding like an out-of-control speed train. As he got out of the car he became aware that his mouth was dry and recognised that this was the closest he’d ever come to fear. Or maybe it was just apprehension. Glancing up at the big sign which read Sabato School of Polo, he took a moment to realise that someone must have heard the sound of his car and a man was walking towards him.
The man’s build was much like his own—long-legged, strong and muscular—though the thick tumble of dark hair was distinctly longer. He wore casual riding clothes and leather boots which were dull with dust—an outfit which was in marked contrast to Lucas’s own bespoke linen suit. But as he grew closer, Lucas found himself staring into a pair of dark-lashed and slanting green eyes, so unnervingly like his, as were the chiselled jaw and high slash of cheekbones.
And now the pounding of his heart became deafening as he acknowledged who it was who stood before him. His older brother. He swallowed. His only brother. For a moment neither man said anything, just stared long and hard, their faces set and serious. Two powerful tycoons confronted by the bitter reality of their past, which had somehow merged into the present.
‘Alejandro,’ said Lucas eventually.
The man nodded. ‘I’ve spent a long time trying to find you, Lucas,’ he breathed slowly.
And that was the main difference between them, Lucas acknowledged. That his brother’s deep voice was accented, its lilting cadence emphasising the Spanish of his mother tongue. Lucas felt his heart clench, realising that his brother had known their real mother, while he had not, and he felt a bitter pang he hadn’t expected before replying to his brother’s statement. ‘I changed my name,’ he said, at last.
Alej nodded and then smiled, expelling a long sigh of something which sounded like relief. ‘Want to tell me about it? Over a beer maybe, or even a ride? I don’t even know if you ride—how crazy is that?’
For the first time Lucas smiled as he chose the latter option, even though he hadn’t been on a horse in a while and even though his brother was an ex-world-champion polo player who could outride most people. But for once, he wasn’t feeling competitive and he didn’t care if Alej outshone him in the saddle. He wanted clarity in which to confront the past—not alcohol clouding or distorting the things which needed to be said. He wanted to hear the facts as they were, no matter how much they might hurt.
And they did hurt. No two ways about it. He had thought he was prepared for the pain which might be awaiting him when he heard the full story of how he came to be adopted, but afterwards wondered if perhaps he’d been naïve. Because was anyone ever really prepared for pain? Intellectually you might think you knew what to expect, but on a visceral level it always hit you with a force which could leave you breathless.
Hacking out over the lush green pastures, they rode for a long time, sometimes talking, sometimes lapsing into thoughtful silences, until the sinking sun had begun to splash the landscape with coral and Alej turned to him.
‘You must be thirsty by now. Think it’s time for that beer?’
Lucas nodded. ‘Sure do.’
As if by unspoken consent, they urged their mounts into a fierce gallop as they headed back towards the stables and Lucas was glad for the sudden rush of adrenalin which surged through his veins. Glad too that the rush of air dried the tears he could feel on his cheeks.
His brother’s car was waiting to take them to Alej’s estancia, where his wife Emily was waiting with their baby Luis, and Lucas stepped into the warm family home and felt a rush of something he’d never experienced before. Was it envy or regret? he wondered. Because as Alej lifted the squealing Luis high in the air and the beautiful Emily stirred somet
hing in a pot which smelt delicious, Lucas realised that he too could have had this. A home and a family. With Tara. The woman who had encouraged him to come here. Who had made him dare raise the curtain on his past and look directly into the face of his brother and his troubled ancestry.
He swallowed as Emily handed him a frosted bottle of beer.
He could have had all this.
And he had blown it.
He didn’t sleep well that night, even though the bed was supremely comfortable and the steak which Alej cooked for dinner the best he’d ever eaten, especially as it had been served with Emily’s delicious spicy vegetables. But in the days which followed, he was given a tantalising taste of the country of his birth. He grew to understand it a little and to like it enormously so that by the time it came to leave, he experienced a distinct pang as he dropped a kiss on the baby’s downy head and hugged Emily goodbye. He didn’t say much as Alej drove him to the airport. He didn’t need to. He knew that something powerful had been forged between the two of them during the past week, a bond which had been severed so many years ago but which had somehow, miraculously, endured.
At the airport the two men embraced. Then Lucas took one last look at the sweeping mountains he could see in the distance and, somewhere in his heart, knew he’d be back. ‘You know, you and the family must visit me in Ireland.’
‘Por supuesto.’
Once again their gazes clashed with the sense of something unspoken. And then he was in the aircraft and clipping his seat belt before the private jet barrelled along the runway and soared up into the cloudless sky. For a while Lucas stared down at the retreating rooftops of Buenos Aires, before settling back in his seat.
It was a long flight but for once he couldn’t concentrate on work matters—even though he was able to communicate with his assistant on the ground. And somewhat predictably, when the plane touched down in Dublin, it was to a grey and blustery day. He thought how tiny Ireland seemed in comparison to the sweeping landscape of the country he’d just left. A pulse was beating at his temple as he stared down at the email his assistant had sent him earlier and, slowly, he gave his driver the address. All during the car journey to Caragh Lake, Lucas was aware of the racing of his heart and sudden clamminess of his palms—as if his body were trying to keep him focussed on what his mind was trying so hard to resist. But the dark thoughts kept flapping back, like insistent crows.
What if he couldn’t do this?
What if she didn’t want him? Could he blame her if she didn’t? His mouth hardened. And mightn’t that be best? Wouldn’t that guarantee her some kind of peace, even if peace was a concept he couldn’t ever imagine finding for himself? Not now, anyway.
Despite its size, the big house wasn’t easy to find, tucked away in a leafy lane and overlooking a beautiful lake. As Lucas lifted the heavy door knocker he could hear it echoing through the large house and it seemed to take for ever before he heard the approach of oddly familiar footsteps, and when the door opened he saw Tara standing there. His heart leapt. The new Tara. The one with the feathery soft hair which made her look so sleek.
She was blinking at him in disbelief. ‘Lucas?’
