All the furniture in the room was painted cream—feminine and delicate—as well as highly decorated with a good deal of gilt rococo work. On the bed was a gold coverlet made out of the same fabric as the curtains, its cherubs stitched and padded to stand out. Against one wall, between two sets of tall glass doors that led out onto narrow balconies, stood a desk with its own chair, and in the corner was a low table on which she could see a selection of glossy magazines. Fliss, who had a little knowledge of antiques, suspected that the cream-and-gold carpet was probably a priceless Savonnerie, made especially for the room.
‘Your bathroom and dressing room are through here,’ the housekeeper informed Fliss, indicating the recessed double doors on either side of the bed. ‘I shall send a maid up to escort you to lunch in ten minutes.’
Thanking her, Fliss waited until the door had closed behind her before investigating the bathroom and dressing room.
The bathroom was very traditional, with marble floors and walls and a huge roll-top bath alongside a modern shower enclosure. Every kind of product a visiting guest might require was laid out on the marble surround to the basin. A quantity of thick fluffy towels hung from a modern chrome heated towel rail, whilst an equally thick and fluffy white robe hung from a peg behind the door.
The dressing room was lined with mirror-fronted cupboards large enough to hold the entire wardrobes of several families, and even possessed a chaise-longue. So that the male partner of the woman sleeping in the bedroom could lounge there and watch as she paraded in expensive designer clothes for his pleasure and approval? Inside her head Fliss had a swift mental image of Vidal, dark-browed and dark-suited, leaning against the gold silk upholstery of the chaise, reaching out to touch her bare shoulder, his gaze fixed on her mouth, whilst she—
No. She must not allow such thoughts.
Quickly stepping back into the bedroom, Fliss went over to open doors to one of the balconies, intending to breath in some fresh air. But she came to a halt when she saw that the balcony looked down on an enclosed swimming-pool area large enough to have belonged to a five-star hotel. The intense brilliant blue of the sky was reflected in the still waters of the pool, and beyond the walled pool area she could see the orchards, stretching up into the foothills.
This valley was a small earthly paradise—a paradise complete with its own danger, its own Lucifer as far as she was concerned, in the shape of Vidal. And was she tempted by Vidal as Eve had been tempted by the serpent, in danger of risking all that mattered to her morally for the sake of the sensual caress of a man who represented everything she most despised?
CHAPTER SIX
SOMEONE was knocking on her bedroom door. Quickly removing her rolled-up Panama hat from her case and grabbing her handbag, Fliss went to open the door, somehow managing to disengage herself from her troublesome thoughts and produce a smile for the maid who was waiting outside it.
In the room to which the maid showed her a buffet lunch had been laid out on a heavily carved wooden sideboard. Three places were set at the immaculately polished mahogany table, and the reason for that was made apparent when Vidal walked into the room, accompanied by a good-looking dark-haired younger man, who gave Fliss a warm smile of open male appreciation as soon as he saw her.
Vidal introduced them. ‘Felicity—Ramón Carrera. Ramón is Estate Manager here.’ Ramón’s warm smile faded to a very respectful inclination of his head when Vidal added, ‘Felicity is Felipe’s daughter,’ before striding over to the buffet and telling them both, ‘Come—let us eat.’
Going to pick up one of the plates on the table, Fliss grappled with the unexpectedness of Vidal introducing her openly as his adopted uncle’s daughter—thus acknowledging her as a member of the family as easily as though there had never been any past secrecy or unwillingness to recognise her. Why had he done it? Because he had felt it necessary to explain her presence and hadn’t wanted anyone on the estate to jump to the conclusion that just because he had brought her here it meant they were personally involved romantically? Of course, being the man he was, he wouldn’t want anyone thinking that. He had made his dislike of her plain enough, after all.
As she ate her food, whilst the two men talked about estate matters, Fliss pondered on why the thought of Vidal pointing out that she was here because she was Felipe’s daughter and not because of any personal emotional involvement with him had the power to make her feel such an intense stab of angry pain.
‘You have not tried our wine yet,’ she heard Ramón saying, ‘It’s a new Merlot we have just started producing here.’