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‘Señorita Wilson would no doubt benefit from hearing your interpretation of the problems you both face,’ Don Alfonso began vaguely.

So they shared some difficulty, Annalisa thought, wondering what it might be. She watched Ramon incline his head in gracious assent. She might have expected him to jump down Don Alfonso’s throat for suggesting he suffered problems just like any ordinary mortal. But there was not so much as a flicker of impatience on his face. How attractive he was, she thought, relishing the chance to gaze at him without attracting curiosity as he rose to speak. What a tragedy to find herself ranged against him! And worse still to know he was spoken for…

‘As Señorita Wilson is already aware,’ Ramon began, his low, resonant voice commanding the whole room’s attention, ‘our fathers were partners. When my father died,’ he added, directing his gaze straight at Annalisa, ‘I inherited his share of the business.’

He paused, and that moment seemed like an eternity to Annalisa. She stared fixedly at a small knot of wood on the polished table while shockwaves pummelled her mind. She struggled to take in this latest breathtaking revelation. The only thing she had known about her Spanish father was that he had deserted her mother shortly before she was born. As far as she was aware they had never heard from him again. To discover that he had not only been a man of property, but had been involved in business with one of the most powerful families in Spain, was a staggering discovery… But why hadn’t Don Alfonso mentioned this to her when he must have known? Feeling Ramon staring at her, she glanced up distractedly, but as his focus sharpened she looked away.

‘On her twenty-fifth birthday,’ he continued, ‘Señorita Wilson discovered that she had inherited a large tract of land here in Menorca. Land that had been left in trust for her by her late father, Don Pedro di Fuego Montoya.’

A wave of emotion broke over Annalisa as Ramon mentioned her father’s name. His voice contained such affection and respect. There had clearly been a bond between the two men, a bond that both thrilled and frightened her. It made Ramon Perez part of her life whether she liked it or not. And now all the men around the table were bowing their heads, as if they remembered her father quite differently from the way she had always imagined him. Her mother’s refusal to talk about him had always led Annalisa to suppose that her absentee Spanish father must have caused some dreadful hurt. Wasn’t his neglect proof enough of that?

She looked up again to hear Ramon say, ‘This land was his to give freely. I have no dispute over title with Señorita Wilson.’

Don Alfonso made another discreet signal to silence Annalisa. ‘You wish to purchase a piece of this land in order to advance your plans for development in the area?’ he asked.

‘That is correct,’ Ramon agreed. ‘I had imagined the new owner of the finca would be eager to sell. But that was before I met Señorita Wilson. Now I realise Señorita Wilson has plans of her own. However, in order for the orange groves to be restored to full production she will require a constant supply of fresh water: water that runs across my land.’

He stopped, his expression unfathomable. But Annalisa had heard enough. She sprang to her feet. ‘I admit my intentions are still in the planning stage, but I can tell you two things: whatever difficulties are placed in my way, I intend to make my home in Menorca, and finca Fuego Montoya is not for sale.’

‘Is the property viable?’ one of Ramon’s young lawyers asked doubtfully. ‘Even forgetting the problem you will have obtaining sufficient fresh water for your commercial activities, I heard the house was in a terrible state.’

Emotionally, Annalisa was wrung out. Deciding to keep the finca had left her stranded on an island of uncertainty, where she was bombarded by facts and revelations and, worst of all, the scrutiny of a man who seemed capable of seeing beyond her professional façade to the vulnerable core beneath. Her glance flashed up as he began to speak again.

‘You have not seen the finca recently,’ he said, glancing first around the table and then back at her.

His eyes, Annalisa saw, had warmed past a point that was safe. And his voice when he spoke again wrapped around her like a comfort blanket, even though he directed his comments to everyone.

‘Señorita Wilson has made many improvements already—’

Feeling an ominous pricking at the back of her eyes, she pulled herself together fast. Ramon as adversary was bad enough… Ramon back-pedalling out of concern for her feelings was really worrying.

‘And Don Alfonso assures me that she has sufficient funds,’ Ramon finished, with a ‘so that’s an end of it’ shrug.

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