Counterfeit Bride(5)

'Ye gods,' Nicola thought, 'and this is only the poor relation! What the  Mark II model is like makes the mind reel.' Somehow the image of the  plump, pompous grandee didn't seem quite so valid any more.

He walked forward, strong shoulders, lean hips and long legs encased in a  lightweight but very expensive suit. His black silk shirt was open at  the throat, allowing a glimpse of smooth brown chest.

He was smiling faintly, and Nicola thought, her hackles rising, that he was clearly under no illusion about his effect on women.

'Señorita.' He stood at the foot of the steps and looked up at her rather enquiringly.

'I am Teresita Dominguez, señor,' she said coldly. 'And you are late.'

Now that the words were uttered, and the charade begun, it was somehow easier.

If Don Luis had informed his cousin that his future wife was a  submissive doormat of a girl who would speak when spoken to, then Don  Ramon de Costanza had just had the shock of his life, she thought with  satisfaction. She was pleased to see that he did look taken aback.

'My apologies, Señorita Dominguez. I was detained. And of course I could  not know-I was not warned what a vision of loveliness awaited me.'

No one warned me about you either, she thought silently. And Don Luis  must be off his head to let you out of your cage to prowl round the girl  he's going to marry, cousin or no cousin.

She primmed her mouth disapprovingly as he came up the steps to her side. 'Don Ramon, must I remind you who I am?'

'Indeed no, señorita. You are the novia of Don Luis Alvarado de  Montalba, the most fortunate man in Mexico. Welcome to our family,  Teresita-if I may call you that?' He lifted her hand as if to kiss it  lightly, then at the last moment turned it over, and brushed his mouth  swiftly and sensuously across the palm instead.

'Señor.' Nicola snatched her hand away, aware that she did not have to  pretend the note of shock in her voice. Her flesh tingled as if it had  been in contact with a live electric current. 'I hope I do not have to  inform Don Luis of your behaviour.'

'Forgive me.' He didn't sound particularly repentant. 'I forgot myself.  You will have nothing further to complain of in my conduct, I swear.  Will you allow me to put your cases in the car?'

She assented with a cool nod, and followed him down the steps, her heart still thumping.

'And your bag?'

She swallowed, shaking her head and taking a firm hold on the strap.

'I prefer to keep it with me.'

He surveyed the bag in silence for a moment. 'It lacks the charm and elegance of the rest of your appearance.'

'It has sentimental value,' she said shortly.

'I'm glad it has something,' he said smoothly. The chauffeur was holding  the rear door open, and she climbed in, taking pains to do so without  displaying too much leg. The door was shut and she saw her travelling  companion detain the man with a hand on his arm and tell him something  which clearly caused the chauffeur some surprise before he nodded and  turned away.

The next minute Ramon came round and also got in the back of the car  beside her. She saw the chauffeur watching covertly in the mirror, his  face deliberately stolid and expressionless.

Keep your eyes on that mirror, amigo, she addressed him silently, and if he puts a hand on me anywhere, call in the army.

She leaned back in her seat, forcing herself to relax, reminding herself  that she was occupying a very spacious, luxurious air-conditioned  vehicle, and the fact that it felt crowded was purely imaginary.                       
       
           



       

The car began to move, and she felt tiny beads of perspiration break out  on her top lip. They were on their way. So far so good, she thought,  then stole a glance at her travelling companion and realised that there  was absolutely no room for complacency on this journey. And she had  promised Teresita that she would use delaying tactics, and make it last  as long as possible. She swallowed, and turned her attention as  resolutely as possible to the scenery outside the car.

They had been travelling for over half an hour when he said, 'You are very quiet.'

It was her chance. She produced a lace-trimmed handkerchief from her bag, and dabbed her lips with it.

'I am not a good traveller, Don Ramon. You must excuse me.'

She hiccuped realistically, and settled further into her corner of the  seat, relishing the slightly alarmed expression on his face. She closed  her eyes and pretended to doze, and eventually pretence was overtaken by  reality, and, lulled by the smooth motion of the car, she slept.

She awoke with a start some time later. Her eyes flew open and she saw  that he was watching her, the dark face curiously hard and speculative.  As she looked at him uncertainly, the expression faded, and there was  nothing but that former charm.

'Welcome back, señorita. Are you feeling better?'

She said, 'A little,' and sat up, her hands automatically smoothing some  of the creases out of the skirt of her dress. His eyes followed her  movements, observing the rounded shape of her thighs beneath the  clinging material, and she flushed slightly, thankful that her bag was  on the seat between them, an actual physical barricade.

'Where are we?' They seemed to be passing through a town. He mentioned a name, but it meant nothing.

'I had intended to stop here for lunch,' he said, after a pause. 'But as you are unwell, perhaps it would be unwise.'

Nicola groaned inwardly. She could hardly confess the truth, that she was starving. Tension seemed to be giving her an appetite.

'Please don't let my indisposition interfere with your plans, Don  Ramon,' she said meekly. 'While you eat, I can always go for a walk.  The-the fresh air might do me good.'

Again she was conscious of the speculative stare, then he said, 'As you wish, señorita.'

The chauffeur, whose name was Lopez, parked in a small square behind the church.

Ramon helped her out. 'Are you sure you will be all right?' He paused. 'It is only a small place, you can hardly get lost.'

'I'll be fine,' she assured him, reaching for the strap of her bag.

'You don't wish to take that heavy thing with you. Leave it in the car,' he suggested.

Rather at a loss, she said, 'I'm used to carrying it. It-it doesn't worry me.'

'Clearly you are not as frail as you seem,' he murmured.

She waited to see what direction he took with Lopez, and made sure she  went the other way. In one of the streets off the square a small market  was in full swing, and there were food stalls, she saw thankfully. Black  bean soup, she decided with relish, and sopes to follow. She had  learned to love the little corn dough boats filled with chili and topped  with cheese and vegetables and spiced sausage which were to be found  cooking on griddles at so many roadside foodstalls. She ate every scrap,  and licked her fingers.

She felt far more relaxed, and in a much better temper as she sauntered  back to the car. Ramon de Costanza was standing outside the car, looking  at his watch and tapping his foot with impatience as she approached.

'I wondered if I would have to come and find you,' he said silkily. 'Did you enjoy your stroll?'

'Gracias, señor. Did you enjoy your lunch?'

'It was delicious.' He looked faintly amused as he surveyed her and  Nicola wondered uneasily whether she had left any traces of black bean  soup round her mouth.

As he took his seat beside her in the car, Ramon said, 'I have a  business call to make a few kilometres ahead, and then we will find  somewhere to stay for the night.'

'Already?' she asked with a frown.

He looked surprised. 'It will soon, be the time for siesta. You don't  want to continue our journey through the full heat of the day, or ask  Lopez to do so.'

'No, of course not,' she said, feeling a fool. 'I-I wasn't thinking.'  That had to count as a slip, she thought. Surely by now she should be  used to the way life in Mexico slowed to a crawl in the late afternoon.  She was taking too much for granted, losing her edge, and it couldn't  happen again, or he might begin to suspect.

They eventually arrived at a motel, a large rambling white building  surrounded by lush gardens, fountains and even a swimming pool. Nicola  stared at it longingly, and then banished even the thought regretfully.  Ladies wearing wigs stayed on dry land. Besides, her bikinis were all in  her own cases on the way to Merida by now, and that was just as well,  because the prospect of appearing before Ramon de Costanza so scantily  clad was an alarming one.                       
       
           



       

Every time she had as much as glanced in his direction, he had been watching her, she thought broodingly.

And that was putting it mildly. What he had actually been doing was  undressing her with his eyes, and in her role as Teresita she couldn't  even make a protest, because the innocent Teresita wouldn't have known  for one moment what he was doing.

But I know, she thought, grinding her teeth, and longing to embed the delicate heel of her sandal in his shin.